#i still have quESTIONS ofc but give me a 2nd season and more of them pls

[diaphanuos]

i finished watching moving and just!! spoilers ahead

i absolutely love the show??? the way the characters were written, just *chef's kiss*

like pls mihyun who wouldn't shoot at her commanding officer's order but will not hesitate to kill someone to protect her son

and jang juwon seeing lee jaeman about to attack the shockwave guy and going all "you're so fucked"

and lee jaeman going absolutely berserk to protect his son, but also "don't do that, ganghoon-ah, you'll hurt your hand"

and the kids!! bongseok carrying his eomma on his back like she used to do for him when he was younger

and huisoo throwing herself in front of a bullet in one scene and comforting a bloodied crying man on the sidewalk the next (showing us that she's both her father's and her mother's daughter)

and the nk agents too!! the show depicting that they might belong to a different side but they're human too and their whole backstories pls like just absolutely heartbreaking and they deserve better and "those who forces sacrifices are to blame" and my heart hurts at just how they were all called monsters but were used as pawns by the actual monsters

just !!!!!! so good

[cloveroctobers]

FALSE STARTS — CARMY BERZATTO [Summer Writings]

A/N: Getting down to my final collection to these summer writings…I strongly debated if I wanted to even write for carm this time around, the man is always going through it…not saying that I won’t ever again because I ofc have love for the guy but whew!!! Never giving up on him but—you guys get it? You just have to let some things sink in after watching the seasons…so here’s something possibly short? Knowing me my definition of short is not always reliable kinda like Carmy’s mental state—OOP. Too much?

WARNINGS: Added a OC, another berzatto again to the mix because I can also see Kyle being on the show and I’ve got a soft spot for him as well SORRY! I feel it in my spirit for smile 2 that it’s NOT going to end well but let’s be delusional! Slight reference to that horror movie in here as well, Still x reader based but you just have a name since I didn’t want to write in 2nd POV, along with some background for you and Carmy’s friendship, language, mentions of s**c***e & some spoilers for season three if you’re not caught up yet!

SYNOPSIS: Carmy runs into more than just his past and blood, forever learning what his next steps are, if his head will let him that is.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @emziess + @andrew3garfield !

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

The last thing Carmy expected was to see, Joel Berzatto at the pick up window during the lunch rush. Carmy’s been on autopilot the second week into the grand opening and he was already frustrated with the new hires. They didn’t have what it takes and Carmy didn’t have the patience to teach them, especially when they didn’t put in the effort to learn.

All they cared about was a paycheck.

He couldn’t teach what should have already been known.

Carmy already shocked himself, not blowing a fuse, deciding to just head out back silently with a carton of cigarettes. He vowed at some point he was going to quit these things and faught hard about the stick that was perched in between his lips. He’s pacing along the rocks and dirt on the side of the bear, back of his lighter racking against his fingers as he took a two minute break.

There was no time to make it five.

“Carmen,” a voice greets, making his bright blues turn to the voice.

It’s Joel.

Michelle’s younger brother.

He’s got a bag to go, bunched up underneath his fingers and his badge on his waist glimmers from underneath his earthy toned attire for work. Carmen reminds himself to blink, coming to terms that this is indeed his family—on his father’s side—at his place of business.

“Joel?” Carmen echoes but it’s more of a question.

Joel snickers as there’s still a great distance between the two family members, “yeah I was wondering when I was going to get caught red handed.”

Carmen clears his throat after removing the cigarette from his lips, “you’ve ordered something to go?”

That’s obvious but he’s trying to fill up the silence, which is always so loud even in the city.

Joel scratches at his brow, a small smile playing on his face, “‘Course I did. I was in the area and my partner wanted some other shit, he’s vegan or vegetarian and I knew that would be a disappointment so I snuck over here to get my money’s worth.”

“Yeah?” Carmy’s eyes flick back to the bag, “what’s your poison?”

Joel laughs, “can’t ever go wrong with a classic, am I right?”

Which only meant one thing: Italian Beef with extra peppers, just how he always got it, even when they were younger. Joel was older than Carmy, more around Nat’s age but he always found a way to bring up something to talk about once Michelle, Mikey, and Richie brought the house down with their boisterous voices.

“I’ve mentioned to Sugar that Sam and I can’t wait to try out the dinner menu but it hasn’t been the best time…” Joel hints, almost as if he’s apologizing for not showing his face.

There was tension at the beginning.

Joel was this big detective.

Always the persistent one and trying to solve something. It only made sense that he chose this profession but Joel did piss the family off when he tried to come up with this conspiracy theory that Mikey didn’t kill himself and that someone else pulled the trigger. His perspective? It was probably someone who Mikey bought those painkillers off of and in Joel’s mind, he thought he was doing the family a good service but instead he had his own denial about Mikey’s passing as well.

There’s been two big death’s in Joel’s life that he had to face before with his fiancée who took her own life as well. A psychologist at that. That happened years before Mikey…and Carmy can only imagine how fucked he’s been in the head too and maybe detective work gave him some sort of solace—in a twisted way.

They were family after all and grief is handled in different ways they say!

Carmy picks up on the name referred to and questions, “Sammy? You guys are still together?”

Joel snickers but doesn’t seem offended by any means, “Yeah, can’t seem to get rid of her.”

He jokes but Carmy knows that would be the last thing Joel wanted.

“She always tells me to send her love whenever I do stop by for lunch…we just don’t want to disrupt anything you guys have going on.” Joel admits and that actually makes Carmy frown.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a shake of his head, “she wouldn’t—you guys wouldn’t. You’re both family too…it’s just been a lot.”

“Yeah but at some point I think we’ve got to stop making excuses,” Joel shrugs, “No pressure on our end. You should stop by the house one day, Samora would love to see you. It’s been awhile you know?”

Carmy nods.

It has.

Samora’s been one of Carmy’s oldest friends.

The friendship happened to be one of those, catch you when I catch you type of things, or if seeing someone mutual and he so happened to come up, she always related her love for him. That’s just how they operated, even if was at a distance and there wasn’t any bad blood.

Life went on.

Separately for them.

And she’s apparently been going strong with his blood cousin, Joel, for who knows how long? Carmy can’t believe he’s almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend like her.

“Yeah, I should.” Carmy agrees, “Nat’s got your number right? I’ll have to get it from her and reach out to see what’s best for you guys?”

Joel raised his brows at this.

He didn’t think Carmy would even respond to that. Carmy’s always been the kind of guy that found the nicest corner in the room and chose to stay there, it was what he was comfortable with: seeing all sides of the room and the nearest exit.

“Well Sam’s mostly working out of the house now, business picked back up for her in the last year, thankfully.” Joel answers with an inhale, “I’m the one that’s mostly gone all the time not getting the chance to really live in the house but…whenever you want. We don’t mind pop in’s—usually.”

Carmy nods, “cool—uh? I got to get back in there but I hope you enjoy the sandwich and maybe fucking try something else huh?”

Joel’s always been the sandwich and chips kind of guy. Easy going. Compassionate and soft spoken. Carmy’s only ever saw Joel pissed one time as far as he can remember. Of course when carmy brought up the interest of taking cooking seriously, Joel offered a listening ear and would admit he hardly knew what kind of fancy dishes Carmy was talking about but once he brought out the sketches? Sold! Joel couldn’t be more thrilled to see Carmy finding something to be passionate about.

It took time but he did it.

Joel picks up on Carmy’s teasing tone and points the bag at him, “I don’t tell you how to run your business, Carm. So don’t get in between a man and his favorite hoagie.”

A crooked smile appears on Carmy’s face at that as he slowly starts to retreat, “alright, fair enough.”

“Keep it up, bear.” Joel tells Carm, “beginnings can be rough but everything looks phenomenal…from what I can see anyway.”

Did it feel that way?

Carmy couldn’t tell you.

A week and three months it took for Carmy to show up to the familiar Greystone. It was after the review came in and Carmy was back on mode: disconnect, taking a much needed walk that led him right back to the usual busy area where the home sat; that had history there. He’s not positive how long he’s been standing there, peering up at the picturesque home beyond the fence.

Eventually he works up the nerve to stand at the front door, head just kissing it as he debates about knocking. His stomach feels like an off track dryer machine and his head is telling him that he has no place showing up to this house. Samora wouldn’t want to see him and Joel was just talking back then, never expecting Carmy to take up the invitation.

Carmy’s got the number from Sugar and found out where they stayed. It was the same address of where Sammy grew up, a home from her great grandparents that was passed all the way down to her. Legally she got the greystone since her foster turned adopted siblings weren’t biologically in the family and only one of them seemed to put up a fight about it anyway, only wanting the cash and not caring about how significant the home was.

He remembered that.

And so, he knocks.

He’s heading towards the gate by the time the front door swings open but the sound of the woman calling out his name, stops him in his tracks. He exhaled, dropping his hand from pulling the gate back, lifting his head before turning back to the woman on the stoop.

“It is you! Well don’t just stand there, get up here you little turd.” She’s waving her hands along and Carmy moves.

They’re face to face and it’s been ages.

Both of their eyes traces over one another’s faces but Samora is the first to yank him by the shoulders into her arms. He’s tense but finds himself placing his chin into her own shoulder, shaky hands going to her spine. Samora’s hugs have always been tight but Carmy’s never had a problem with pressure.

Much.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t get paint all on your fresh suit. What’s that? Givenchy?” Samora pokes fun as she playfully flicks the tip of his nose.

Carmy smacks her hand away realizing that she is in fact covered in paint all over her shorts overalls and there’s a dry paint swatch right on her left cheek. A awful chartreuse color, which she always seemed to like the brightest of colors others like to hate on.

In a sense Samora tried to see the good in most things.

“No,” Carmy feels a small smirk appear on his own cheek, “you’re good.”

And she welcomes him inside.

The once old home has been refreshed and Carmy can’t tell you the last time he’s been in here but the changes are evident. The first set of walls were now white, making the short entry way feel bigger and as they both turn to the right towards the living room, the view of the front porch at night feels like many summers ago when they both would sit out there, him on his back, arms tucked behind his head and Samora right beside him cross legged as she stared out towards the traffic lights.

They could sit out there for hours together, comfortable in silence or Carmy listening to Samora curse up a storm when she got confused trying to learn chess with a board her great-grandfather made. A slab of wood with a built in drawer to keep the pieces on the side, it would get stuck sometimes but she always handled with care.

“Carmen Berzatto…can’t believe you came to see little ��ol me…unless you’re looking for Joel?” Samora says over her shoulder, still waving him along through the dinning room towards the grand kitchen.

He awkwardly stands off to the side in the kitchen while Samora lets out a yawn with a shake of her head before moving forward with searching through the cabinets. “I uh—not necessarily.”

“He’s at work anyway, getting buried into another one of his insane cases that he’s not supposed to tell me about but we all know how I am—I’m going to find out regardless.” Samora places two shot glasses down, noticing that Carmy had moved closer to the island counter now.

He did know actually.

They went to school together, been through a lot of typical high school bullshit together. He always felt like the sidekick, whereas he was the shy and reserved one, Samora had other friends that she didn’t mind putting to the side to hang out with Carmy for. Her response would be whenever Carmy asked why she kicked them to the curb to be around someone boring would be, “I know who my lifelong friends are, surely.”

“Surely,” was always Samora’s word and, “Duh,” happened to be Nat’s.

Sophomore year when Konstantinos “Tino,” Pappas found his next target in Carmy and thought it would be funny to sic his Rottweiler on him one day (he had asthma and could barely run a mile but loved skateboarding) when he had to walk home alone after school one day, he glossed over it, saying that he just tried to hop the fence as a shortcut to get home and got stuck on it instead.

He didn’t mention the dog snatching his backpack, or the nasty nip mark on his lower back, his shirt ripping after it got stuck on the spikes, and colliding face first with a sharp rock, that left a faint knick on his cheek until this day, if you got close enough to see it you would notice. Donna believed Carmy’s lies although she knew Carmy was a more take his time kind of kid but all she wanted to do was get back to her daily cocktail, Nat was concerned but Carmy also brushed her off, saying he was fine, and when Mikey saw the marks, he hammered him with questions, leaving a teenage Carmy to grow sick of his big brother being on his case so he shut him out too.

And what did Mikey Berzatto do?

He went right to a sick Samora to find out what she knew. She had been home for the past three days, down with a fever she caught from her new foster sibling and swore that she would find out. Shook on it with the older Berzatto, who bid his farewells of how good she is to his kid brother, which meant she would always be good people in Mikey’s eyes. And when she did find out? She came right back to school that Monday, noticing the laughter from Tino and his friends down by their locker with a whole camcorder of the incident, which wasn’t far from her’s and Carmy’s.

Carmy lifted his hand to greet the teen but when she was on a mission? It was tunnel vision. She didn’t care if there were teachers at the end of the hall, she snatched the camcorder from one of Tino’s friends, shoving him out of the way, before getting to Tino. A fist met his eye that day and that resulted in a suspension and detention after learning what Tino did.

If you thought Carmy was pissed before about Nat’s overbearing nurturing ways and Mikey bugging him about the marks, then you can only imagine how annoyed he was with Samora after that. That resulted in a stupid fight and with Samora even dating Tino for two whole days—the goal was to break his heart anyway.

Teenagers? Am I right?

“Check this out,” Samora grins as she pours this green liquid into the shot glasses and makes sure to get a piece of cucumber? floating at the top to decorate it with, “I’ve been experimenting and since Joel can’t be my rodent of a taste taster tonight. I present to you chef Carmy, Cold Cucumber green Gazpacho. A chilled soup—as I’m sure you are aware of—since you know how I feel about soups in the summer.”

“…you want me to try this?” Carmy picks up the glass, eyeing it.

Samora dips her head, “surely and if you don’t do that pinched lip thing, then I know it’s trash.”

Carmy flicks his eyes to her with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”

She folds her first four fingers over her thumb, tapping them together, “I don’t know! It’s a thing! You do it when you’re yelling too but at least I know you’re focused so, go on.”

Carmy shakes his head with a slow close of his eyes. He didn’t know what she was talking about at all but he can’t say he was surprised she picked up on this, she was an interior decorator after all.

Detail was always crucial.

“That’s,” Carmy starts after seeing Samora toss her head back not long after himself, “fresh.”

Samora grins, “not bad for a beginner, huh? Easy peasy and quick! Make sure you shout me out if you make this an appetizer or something at the restaurant, will ya?”

“You got it.” Carmy comments making a mental note to do something green next time on the menu, savoring the smooth and freshness with a hint of a zing dish as Samora carefully places the bowl back into the fridge.

Sighing she turns to rest her elbows onto the counter, “Now…bestie Carmy Berzatto…what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift, “N-Nothing. I saw Joel the other day and he brought you up—

“How long ago was that?” She interrupts.

He fires back, “…awhile? Does it matter?”

“No…you know I don’t sweat the small stuff.” She blinks, “Long as I knew you were thriving then that’s all I can wish for but I know my friend and I’m sensing that you’re not okay. You’re avoiding.”

Carmy’s tapping his finger along the side of the glass but Samora doesn’t relax her burning stare, “what—

“Did you see your niece yet?” Samora quizzes and he quickly closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair, she can tell he’s mentally cursing at himself, “she’s a beautiful baby. I had groceries sent to Nat and Pete’s the other day—

“Is this your way of reminding me of how shitty I’ve been at communicating and being present because I don’t need it. I already feel that.”

Samora sticks her tongue in her cheek and pushes back, “No shock there, Carmy. I know you. So what exactly triggered you today that made you finally come here to see me?”

Carmy starts chewing on his lips, eyes not connecting with Samora’s as she tilted her head to the side, waiting. It feels like forever to get an answer so Samora moves around the island, squeezing his shoulder, “let’s go up to the roof, maybe the fresh air and not the fumes of paint will help ease you into it. Thanks for knocking by the way, I may have seen a glimpse of the other side because of it before you got here.”

“What?” Carmy spits out in concern as she pulls at his wrist.

Samora laughs, “if you tell Joel, I’ll have to keep you here and bury you in the front yard.”

Carmy blinks with a roll of his eyes.

They’re on the rooftop, there’s less cars as the night carries on. Carmy’s lost count of how many times the street lights flick from red, yellow, to green and back again. Samora allows carmy to take his time, one leg curled up underneath her with her head thrown back staring up at the twinkle of stars on a hot summer night. There’s barely a breeze but they’re alright.

“I saw the shit stain tonight.”

Samora tossed an arm over her forehead, leaned back in the comfy cushioned blue lounge chair, “yeah? There’s plenty here in chicago, so which one? Don’t tell me you saw the walking jump-scare, Tino?”

“Who?” Carmy presses but Samora can tell he’s not going down that path of the past.

She fans her hand to tell him to continue.

“This guy. One of the best chef’s I worked for in New York, he was at the funeral. There was a funeral for this restaurant, Ever.” Carmy begins to tell his old friend, mindful that she’s been out of the loop.

Samora looks around the night sky and snaps her fingers with a nod of her head, “yeah um, Chelly—mostly Stevie said something about a strict chef you were working with but of course it was vague, which leaves me to believe that you didn’t tell chelly much but she’s great at reading in between the lines much like myself.”

Carmy doesn’t tell her exactly what Chef David said to him a hour ago but tells her what his words made him feel yet again. Small. Incapable. How he has to triple check everything, take charge with no regard for his team that’s supposed to be family, and ultimately that he shouldn’t have a team because he was better off alone. How he should be grateful to be where he is now because of all that Chef David taught him.

“Oh nooooo, Chef charred asshole better be lucky I wasn’t there,” Samora mumbles, “He sounds like a narcissistic dick of a man who gets off on attempting to morph you into him and to me? That doesn’t sound like a brilliant or best of the best chef or even a person! it sounds weak and miserable.”

“It’s what I signed up for.” Carmy almost argues and Samora sits up.

She knows this stems from much more than what he experienced in that restaurant in New York.

“I haven’t been around you in a while but I’ve always been on the sidelines. You accomplished all of these things because you knew you could—you fought. You worked hard and earned this.” Samora reassures, “but these false ideas that you have because of what someone else caused shouldn’t diminish anything that you’ve done and continue to do.”

Carmy pulls out his phone and a pack of chewing gum, “tell that to my brain then. The review is up, Sammy.”

Samora’s eyes meet Carmy’s as he shoves a square piece into his mouth, elbows on his knees as they start to bounce, head dropping just a bit. She reaches for the phone, giving him a side eye since there’s no passcode on it, and is brought right to a webpage.

~THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE~

Reviewed by Ad. Shap

Carmen doesn’t have to look at Samora’s face to take in her reaction. He ultimately knows it’ll be different from what the blue in his brain says. There were many things wrong with the review, mostly wrong than good and that’s why he needed someone from the outside to see before seeing how the crew digested this.

Samora usually does this humming when she’s reading or thinking about something and that doesn’t seem to change. When she’s finished she puts the phone face down on the outdoor table and folds her fingers together as she sits back.

“Well…That was reminiscent to my short lived cookie career.”

Carmy widens his eyes as he sets them back on his friend.

She shields her face instantly, “whoa turn down the opacity on those things will ya?”

“Your cookie business failed.”

“Um, no. Fuck you for that by the way,” Samora glared, “I view it as that wasn’t the way the chapter was meant to be told. I wasn’t heavily devoted to culinary like you. Nobody is that I know of. It was just a hobby for me but you turned your craft into something much more: breathe, sleep—well—you let it consume you pros and cons. Surely these reviews are deeply important because impressions are…tricky but not everything is the way you see it.”

Carmy scoffs with a rub to his lips in annoyance, “what the fuck do you mean it’s not the way I see it? It’s my business and I’ve been backstabbed by a prick I worked with—

“Carmy—

“I can’t be a screw up! I won’t be. I’ve been at this for so long and I’m more than tired and shitty in the head but not enough to throw it all away no matter what some four eyed fucker with a typewriter for a laptop says!” Carmy is on his feet now pacing, “I picked up what Mikey left behind, I put in the time and the effort, I removed parts of myself to be untouchable—

Samora shakes her head, “you’re not though and some part of you knows that. None of us are unbreakable, babe. You just…start over as many times until it feels right.”

“See I don’t—

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat to speak clearly, “that’s the problem, I don’t think I know what feels right or if I ever did. I just know circumstances.”

Samora inhales as she gets to her feet too, “okay then. Take everything that you bottled up and let it out there.” She points over the edge of the balcony, “you have to try to acknowledge the good and let some things go or you’ll forever feel stuck instead of moving forward…but I’m no therapist just a decorator who’s still annoyed that you didn’t reach out to revamp the bear—but that’s another conversation, just a friend who knows a little something something that’ll help.”

“Uh, something something?” Carmy repeats feeling his heart race as Samora waved her painted hand out for Carmy’s tatted one.

He takes her hand as she leads the way to the balcony but not close enough to trigger any vertigo. Carmy always loved the view at Samora’s compared to his own childhood home, which contrasted with no view at all—his bedroom didn’t have any windows, just a closed in space—and he was stuck hearing the common yelling between Donna and Mikey.

Carmy could see the top of a neighbor’s red brick building (thanks to how many floors the greystone had) across the street, along with another home to the left and a row of other houses to the right. Behind the house across the street sat the changing color of lights and beyond that was the liveliness of Chicago in the distance, the farmer’s market he personally loved and had Tina make the runs to, other great eateries, and music spots also weren’t far from Samora’s.

The woman rests a hand right in the center of his chest and Carmy can feel himself panting, “No one ever has to know if you have it all figured out…nobody truly does. Put down some of those dishes bear, out there. Not to hibernate but to be the best version of yourself for you and not what anyone tells you, you should be.”

His eyes burn and he feels like he might let some tears fall some more tonight and he finds that comfort in Samora. Something good from his past that was still present although his version is always different, he doesn’t mind much if she see’s any water that slips from the corners. He knows she won’t say anything about it, and her hand doesn’t move from his chest as she’s almost coaching him how to deal with just a portion of his bullshit.

He couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Yet he was willing to learn.

The scream curdles from the back of his throat, bursting through his lips into the night. He curls into his stomach some, the weight present, the firmness of Samora’s hand on his chest, and his face is hot in the summer air, turning pink as he fights to breathe through his screams. Samora is right there with him, her screams were much more melodic, like she’s had the practice while Carmy is testing it out.

His screams have been buried just like everything else he’s bottled up for years.

After, his throat is raw and voice hoarse as he sniffs, he abruptly turns to Samora, pulling her into another hug. She isn’t tense against him, small laughter falling through her own lips while Carmy hold’s onto her.

Calming down.

“love you,” he manages to get out while Samora scratches his back.

She knows he means it and it’s probably something he needed to hear back as of lately.

Samora sighs, “love you too, turd.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pulling back to meet her stare and she winks at him.

“…if I didn’t love the both of you, I might be highly concerned at whatever the hell that was.” Joel announces his arrival after a few moments of silence.

His arms are folded but he’s got that Berzatto sly grin on his lips as Carmy slowly lets his hands fall from Samora’s forearms. The shorter haired man makes his way over to the two, hands going to both of their shoulders as he peers back and forth.

“You made it.”

“I—yeah.” Carmy clears his throat with a shake of his head, “I did.”

“Good,” Joel dips his head but it feels more like a question than a comment.

carmy shrugs.

Samora claps her hands gaining both cousins’ attention, “let’s have some of Mora’s Mosa’s as a celebratory of the night—was the work day alright for you, love?”

Joel awkwardly nods his head back and forth as a way to show that it was so-so.

“Works for me!” Samora yells, “to the kitchen!”

“It’s midnight, honey.” Joel tells Samora who twists her lips to the side, “and I’m sure Carmy doesn’t want any of that green shit you had in the fridge.”

Samora gasps, “damn, who knew my boyfriend would be my biggest critic?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t get sensitive on me now!”

She shrugs his hand from her shoulder while Joel’s low lidded eyes sends a look to Carmy who raises his hands in surrender.

In a hoarse tone he replies, “I actually like the gazpacho so…you’re on your own with that one.”

“Woooow, okay.” Joel breathes out a laugh, then bites down on his bottom lip while Carmy moves to grab his phone and fallen gum pack.

Carmy then turns to watch the two bicker like an old married couple but it doesn’t get loud at all. Joel does talk with his hands to get his point across and Carmy can pinpoint the exact moment Samora cracks, the corner of her nose twitches with amusement before Joel tests the waters, gripping her hips to place a tender kiss on her lips, which Samora seems to kiss back before they break apart. Smiles on both of their faces before they turn back to Carmy who’s attempting to sneak off down the steps.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Joel asks, “you think you can just go off when you and I didn’t get any one on one time?”

Carmy taps his phone against his hand, “It’s getting late, don’t want to impose any further.”

Joel rolls his eyes, tossing an arm across Carmy’s shoulder, “shut your trap, you’re home, man.”

And with that Carmy is led back into the house.

He doesn’t think he’s slept long, but when he checks the time on his slowly dying phone, it’s already later into the next morning.

8:37am and he has no idea what this day is going to look like but it’s a Sunday…maybe for once he doesn’t have to. One of the rooms he’s tucked in belonged to one of Samora’s adopted brothers, Jacobi, Carmy guesses since there’s still a large crack against the ceiling thanks to a lighting strike that occurred way back when they were all kids.

He sits up for a while, taking in the view one last time before he starts to make his exit. He’s walking down the path towards the gate and stops as he hears the front door open.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Samora tells him as he turns to face her, the woman hugging her robe to herself as she’s sitting on the front step.

Carmy stretches a small smile on his dry lips, “Never that,” he jokes, “thanks for always being here, Sammy. Dunno if I ever told you that enough…probably not since I’m always in my head but uh—give Joel my thanks too for me this time.”

Samora dips her head and says, “Surely.”

Carmy scoffs as he pulls the gate back before putting his palm up in the air, “see you soon.”

“After while, crocodile.” She kisses her fingertips before waving them at him.

Samora watches Carmy go, hoping he starts putting the pieces together instead of forcing it all apart like he’s always been accustomed to.

When Monday comes along, his hands are resting along the trimming of white counter as he’s slightly shifting his head back and forth at all the greenery situated in front of him.

“Morning Chef,” Marcus greets first as he’s followed in by Tina.

Carmy nods his head in greeting.

Tina’s eyes immediately go to all the herbs and vegetables, “Jeffery, what’s all this?”

“Something new, green, for the menu.” Carmy informs, “I realized we haven’t had family dinner in a while and i want all of your inputs for what we’ll have tonight.”

Tina and Marcus share a glance, having a feeling that this had something to do with the new review. They all briefly talked about it in the group chat over the weekend.

“Okay, cool. We’re gonna just go put our stuff down.” Marcus points and Carmy keeps his eyes on the ingredients.

“Take your time, Chefs.” Carmy calls out after some time as the two have already started making their way towards the lockers.

He closes his eyes, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart, deeply inhaling as he ignores the contrast of oxygen between his two nostrils, that was another problem he’s gotten used to, his eyes open just in time to meet the green again as the back doors swing open, revealing the rest of his team gradually.

Carmy had work to do and he’s never been afraid of hard work.

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[lostfracturess]

honestly so disappointed in the jjk manga, especially the ending. don't know what to start with. like...i started reading after the 2nd season ending and up to somehow 250 chapter or something. i completely understand that this manga wasn't about something deep in the terms of relationships between the characters, or the world building or the emotional aspect (especially that part), because as i said to my friends, "the title is called "the sorcery fight", not "the sorcery talk" to my great disappointment and irritation. i am not a writer, but i think that building emotional depth is essential, even for the title like that, because it gives everything a better prospect. and this is why, to my mind, the shibuya incident was the best arc of the title (no, because of the feral gojo ofc, don't listen to me), since we were already used to the characters, attached to them, sincerely sympathetic to them, not to mention the whole satosugu thing, which is why it was so superior to me. because it literally had some depth to it, unlike the rest of the manga, that had been being read to me like the fight for the sake of fighting (which is probably the sense of the title, but nevertheless 😭). i feel like everything went extremely downhill since the maki x mai arc, it was so boring to read after that, (up to the chapter 221, obviously 🤧🤧🤧). the fight between sukuna and satoru was so good, not because of the fight itself (satoru dogwalked him, I'll die on this hill), but because it was also our beloved satoru and it was the clash of their philosophies more (which made absolutely no sense after all), and sukuna was really a charismatic villain, good known to us. after that everything felt like a nightmare. and the ending???? honestly, i think it was worse than the attack on titan manga (if you read or watched it). well, to me it sucked in different aspects than jjk, but still sucked. i have SO many questions unanswered it, like the whole kenjaku plan, the origin of sukuna and uraume, the whole merging thing, itadori's domain expansion, the fight between hakari and uraume???? WHERE'S THE SATORU'S BODY???

speaking of satoru ofc, this is such a cruel fate for him, i was literally crying yesterday 😭😭 had been born for being a weapon, raised like a weapon, treated like a weapon, lived like a weapon, died like a weapon, remembered like a weapon. like ARE YOU KIDDING ME? NO ONE EVEN REMEMBERED HIM?? ACKNOWLEDGED HIM??? we had a bunch of nameless characters in the end (well, they had names, but still), but the only mention of him was blaming him for everything 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 maybe i am oversensitive over it, but that's how it is for me. not even given a proper burial or a goodbye. so, so cruel 😞😞😞 not to mention of course the endless hints to his revival (the whole chapter 236, north and south thing especially, THAT WAS COMPLETELY POINTLESS 😭😭😭, the buddha references, 2:21 theory, a nightmare theory....) there literally loopholes for that. i have seen theories far more better than the actual gege's ending for him. hell, he was literally used as a bait for the ending, with all the promo (like the jjk twitter account posting the art with him before the chapter 271 release), even a tool like that (maybe it's too deep, but idc)

so far it feels like gege got a severe burnout and wanted to end it as soon as possible.

sorry for rambling on, really wanna to hear your thoughts about it 💜

bruhhh second you on everything, expect the AOT manga ending ??? i think AOT is a masterpiece for the whole plot including the ending ahhhh :')))) but other than that, i totally understand your frustration with jjk. i feel very much the same.

@/nanamis-baker showed me this earlier about how gege originally planned the whole manga and to me it totally makes sense. like he planned something completely different for the story and was pressured to fit into the other popular shonen manga type of plot and ended up not liking it himself and then it all went downhill (which I had the feeling, like he didn't like the story himself and just wanted to get it over with).

and please i think it's a crime that he really didn't show us anything other than the letters gojo wrote for his students to honor him, like no funeral or anything else or like someone, anyone is sad about his passing pleasssseeeeeee. it's insane. and spending the last chapter on random culling game characters (sue me, but i never really got attached to any of them) and not the main chast ahhhhhhh.

still give my biggest thanks to gege for creating the story (and satoru gojo), and hope he can be more true to himself and what he wants to create in maybe another manga.

[domokunrainbowkinz]

fuck it. have some more manhwa posting:

pearl boy (18+): I did NOT expect to like this one so much like if you told me 3 days ago that a comic about a boy who cums pearls will make me tear up and almost cry on multiple occasions i would've laughed in your face. the art is a little rough in the beginning but it improves by MILES and the current artstyle is so gorgeous. the relationship between the 2 leads is SO SO GOOD, they are the definition of ride or die, by ch 20 i was ready to kill everyone and then myself if anything happened to them. dooshik and jooha are so much fun, and their interactions are just *chefs kiss* they are so good man. I am a little iffy about the ending, but the side stories are making up for it (it's nice to see how jooha would've fallen in love without The Horrors looming over him). controversial opinion but I was pretty eehhhh about the sex scenes, especially bc there is A LOT of SA and sexual violence in general in the series (not between the 2 characters, they're just literally chased by the worst people ever), so even when the 2 leads are having nasty disrespectful consensual banging a part of me is like :/. despite my gripes with the ending and some of the events in the series, i still thought it was a good read. I really do hope the side stories give dooshik a chance to like heal bc I don't think he's doing so hot 😔

pizza delivery man and the golden palace (18+): I originally wasn't gonna read this one bc of the goofy ass title but it was surprisingly very sweet?? it was very nice to see 2 people at their low points meet and help each other with their issues and to heal. I really enjoyed s1, however I heard s2 isn't that good and that it unfortunately falls into a lot of typical BL tropes (derogatory), but I will hold out judgement until I finish the 2nd season.

under the green light (18+): mannnn this one is good. I originally stopped reading bc Matthew creeped me out and gave me the ick (he doesn't do anything bad, he's just a little creepy), but I decided to continue bc I love jin (I am forever biased towards confident snarky characters). I'm really glad I kept with it bc there actually was an explanation for why matthew became so fixated on jin that made me go "OHH....that makes a lot of sense". rly curious to see where the story is going, it's a mafia story so ofc I got my popcorn READY.

a tree without roots (18+): the first scene of the first chapter starts off with a bang and really sets the tone of the story, like they literally slap u over the head with "hey!!!! this is a fucked up story turn back now!!!" before flashing back 8 years, so now you're left with the question of "good lordt what HAPPENED???". as someone who likes fucked up stories and is biased towards obsessive characters, I really enjoyed s1, and I'm curious to see where s2 is going. my 1 gripe is that taekyung is a little dumb when it comes to his treatment of heeseo, like i sorta get it, but also dude...there's DEFINITELY a better way this could've been handled. anyways huge warning for non-con/dub-con between the 2 characters if u decide to check it out.

uncanny charm: I dropped this one bc I found it a little boring, it has a really interesting premise and is also a modern-day supernatural romance, but something about it just didn't click with me. the relationship between the 2 characters was pretty lukewarm, and I'm also not a huge fan of the artstyle.

limited run (18+): dropped this one bc I don't like the MC or the ML, their relationship is just bizarre and weird to me. I wasn't invested in anything that was happening, and the ML's thought process makes no sense to me. idk man I just don't like stories where the MC is like helpless or passive about their situation and grow a spine!!! weakness is not tolerated in this house >:(

cry me a river (18+): dropped bc once again I don't like the MC for being passive and weak. I got baited into reading this one bc the ML is very very pretty, but unfortunately good art is not enough for me to continue a series. once again the relationship between the 2 characters is just weird, what is it with ML's being unable to like idk express emotion?? or communicate?? anyways I also did not give a shit abt what happened so 👁👅👁

nerd project (18+): I really liked this one!! it's a fun fluffy college story about a drama and biotech student. the banter and interactions between them are such a delight to read, but I cannot BELIEVE they ended s1 in the middle of a sex scene what the fuck man 😭

[furious-rogue-stuff]

Heat Chapter 25: Heightened

A super-sized chapter due to being quite plot-heavy, so definitely hoping it’s not pushing the envelope into chore-reading 😬  

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, please let me know~!

Pairing: Javier Peña x OFC | Javi x Querida

Disclaimer: Written in 2nd person narrative, you can safely assume our heroine and love/lust interest is a Latina, written by a Latina. Here's my philosophy on my writing, for further context.

Rating: Mature/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 23,000+

Summary: You both have so much to look forward to, so when challenges arise to derail Javi, you find yourself struggling to keep both of you afloat from going under. Will your unflinching love be enough to shelter each other from the impending tumult?

Warnings: The WONDERFUL Javier Peña, graphic depictions of oral (f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of menstrual cycles, period sex, rough intercourse, dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, and praise kink. Some Dom!Javi, Wrathful!Javi, and Possessive!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.

Heat Masterlist

Previous chapter - Chapter 24: Chemistry

Chapter 25: Heightened

You have to admit it. Coming into work from Javi's is so much better than having to slog a half hour from your side of town. Even with traffic, his place is ten minutes away from the embassy, which is wildly convenient on a day you risked being a few minutes late to your staff meeting. Thankfully, you make it up with enough time to deposit your purse and tote in your office and stroll down to the conference room without looking harried.

It would be a salacious lie for you to pretend you're not still alight and aflutter after your heart-to-heart with Javier earlier, though, so you do your best to mask your giddy joy from your savvy subordinates. Of course, Ellis eagle-eye-spies it in you regardless, and during your late morning meeting catch-up in your office, he tries peppering you with leading questions.

"—Fancy night out later?"

"Nope."

"Oh, quiet dinner at home?"

"…Perhaps."

"His place, or yours?"

"Ellis, quit it," you scoff and wave him out. When he pouts and gives you a doe-eyed beckon, you sigh. "I'll be more amenable to answering during lunch," is your relenting musing as you direct your attention to your laptop screen, typing away.

He actually fist-pumps in triumph before sobering with a grunt of, "Oh, by the way – Crosby's office asked for a meeting with you tomorrow. I had to move the conference call with the field offices to end of day."

"Huh, that should be fine," you remark, glancing up and asking, "Any mention as to what the meeting is about?"

"Zilch, but I heard there's a big inter-agency thing with CNP that is gonna be a prickly affair early tomorrow, so maybe it'll be to fill you in on that?" he theorizes, shrugging before looking at his watch. "Gotta run. Lunch in here later?"

"Sounds good," you chime and smile, watching him lope out before returning to your work.

Meanwhile, Javier's on cloud nine. His usually brooding and curt demeanor is stowed, making him easygoing and approachable today, which has the attentive members of his staff taking notice, especially Stoddard. Even when Javier accidentally pinches his fingertip in his desk filing cabinet drawer hard enough to bruise his nail, he only hissed a swear and sucked on his forefinger instinctually instead of react like a furious bull as he would've normally from the inconvenience. The younger man walks in with the latest in surveillance logs, and rather than the scowl he usually gets from the seasoned agent, he gets a friendly nod of acknowledgement as he places the files in his boss' hand. "The latest from the field offices, sir. Just need you to review and sign before I submit them," he recites before segueing to, "I spoke to Deputy Rose, and he mentioned having a progress session with the resource whose been managing the pilot program onboarding. I'll know if there's any continued resistance from our team later today."

"Great. Make sure you flag to him that any other issues should be communicated to you as soon as they happen," Javier instructs as he reaches for a cigarette, surrendering to the urge after not having one last night or eating breakfast earlier. It should curb his appetite until lunch, or so is his justification for lighting up. "Also," he remarks before exhaling the puff of smoke and sitting back in his desk chair. "Any developments on the wiretap?"

Shaking his head, Stoddard replies, "Nothing yet, boss. But based on the conversations, I doubt he's going to mention his location."

"Regardless, keep 'em your top priority. They're our only lead," Javi grumbles, eyeing the clearly hesitant man. "Any word from Feistl or Van Ness?"

"Just a check-in about trying to get a CNP chaperone to take them to some locations they wanted to vet. Feistl seemed testy," he tells Javi, and when he just deadpan stares at him, Stoddard clears his throat and states he'll stop back to collect the logs when he's through with them.

Once he's alone, Javi shakes his head and finishes his cigarette. He can sense that Stoddard's about to buckle, but he hopes he does it after they get Jurado's location. While he puts out the bud in the ashtray in order to dive into the logs before his next meeting, you're just getting out of your staff training a while later. Starved, you and Ellis heat up your lunches and sit in your office.

"So…I officially have a drawer and closet space at his place," you volunteer aloofly as you eat your stir-fry, smiling when Ellis whistles. "We'll probably alternate between both our apartments, though. But I have to admit, the 10-minute commute was fantastic."

"He'd mostly spend time at your pad, then?" Ellis asks before taking a bite of his sandwich. When you nod, he follows up with, "You know that's pretty legendary, right?"

"What is?" you chortle before sipping from your can of soda.

Leaning in conspiratorially, Ellis whispers, "You, domesticating the infamous Javier Peña – notorious ladies' man and reckless action hero—"

"You could've just said heroic, brooding man-slut," you jibe, earning a choked grunt of amusement from Ellis. "It's not like we're getting a place together. Just finally spending the night at his place for a few nights out of the week. Seeing how long it'll take until he gets sick of it," you joke, tone light and musing as you idly rub at your sore lower back, hiding your discomfort from your menstrual cramps easily.

Ellis squints at you. "Kid, c'mon. You don't honestly think he's liable to be a dick like that, right?" he inquires, tone becoming serious when you just blink bemusedly at him. "Seriously. If he ever makes you feel bad like that—"

"It's not like that, I promise," you chuckle meekly. "He's been nothing but amazing about it. Honestly…it kind of took me off guard," you confide, and whisper, "I'm just afraid of falling back into old habits."

Your friend and deputy frowns, setting his lunch aside to pull the chair closer to where you're perched daintily on the couch. "Does he know? About what happened with that gutless sonuvabitch?" he mutters, and when you nod and shy your gaze away, he reaches over to platonically squeeze your forearm. "Good, so he'll know just as well as you, that the past doesn't predicate your future. That was a bad situation that doesn't define you. Just like you're not letting his bad rep discourage your feelings for him, or wanting to be with him," Ellis assures, being the voice of reason you desperately needed.

"Thanks, Rose," you fondly muse and grin when he hums pleasantly. "By the way? He made me this last night," you chirp and hold up the container with the stir-fry.

"See? He's fucking smitten, girlie. Got him wrapped around your little finger," he chuckles good-naturedly and bounces his brows at you.

While you continue to banter light-heartedly in your office, Javier is exiting his latest meeting and dying to get through the rest of the logs so he can skip out early enough to beat you home so he can surprise you with dinner. Unfortunately, different commitments force him to end up having to spend the rest of his afternoon at his desk, poring over statements and logs, signing off on requisition forms – all the things he loathes about his job.

Once finished with all that, he deposits the signed stack of logs onto Stoddard's desk and inquires about the big meeting tomorrow. The younger man flicks his gaze towards Javier's office, indicating it'd be best to discuss the details in there, so they both go in and hash out what his deputy has gathered on the tenor of the meeting.

Still, Javi can hardly care. The damage was done, and he wasn't going to take it back or apologize for going after Cali, so he changed subjects to the session Stoddard was supposed to have with Ellis.

"Ah – yes. Deputy Rose confirmed the resources in question have fallen into line with the training. Everything should be copacetic for the status report with the director next week."

"Excellent. Let me know if anything else crops up with that," Javier responds and nods when Stoddard gestures he's going to hop to it with the logs on his desk.

When his end of day conference call goes later than he'd hoped, Javi spends most of the meeting thinking about you. It's unavoidable, after all. Especially when you'd told him some of the most consequential, poignant things. He replays your radiant expression as you'd declared how he was the love of your life and the best man you'd ever been with. The tender feeling his reminiscing stokes in his chest is so potent that he almost misses addressing the others on the call when it comes around to him.

While Javier is dying to wrap up the call, you're triumphant as you park in the garage and see you're the first to arrive, so you hustle up to the apartment and let yourself in with your key. It's still fairly early for the end of the day, so you decide to get out of your work clothes and put on the casual mauve t-shirt dress from the dresser drawer before going in search for a hamper to put your work outfit in. Said search becomes a scavenger hunt in the chilly air-conditioned abode, and after a few minutes of opening closets, cabinets, and looking in nooks, you balk at Javier having no freaking hamper. Befuddled, you wander out of the bedroom and spot the louvered doors adjacent to the kitchen.

Opening them, you are pleasantly surprised by the stackable washer-dryer unit, and finally find the hamper shoved into the corner next to folded up ironing board leaning against the machine. Grunting, you pull it out and end up noticing Javi stuffed laundry into the washer. Shaking your head sardonically, you go back to the bedroom, dump your clothes into the hamper you place in the corner by the closet doors, and go to the pile of laundry he shoved hastily in the corner, tucked out of sight by the dresser.

"Oh my god, this man," you snicker to yourself as you dig through the piles and separate items that can be washed from garments that require dry cleaning. Then, you make sure to check the bathroom and the bedroom closet for any possible laundry stragglers. "Huh, wonder if he has dirty clothes in you," sardonically, you absently muse out loud, as you take the duffle bag from the closet and go to empty its contents out on the bed. Sorting the items into your separated piles, you're humming to yourself as you rifle through the pockets. When you slip your hand into a hidden pouch in the interior of the bag and fish out your used pair of panties – the ones he'd pilfered from your apartment after your first night together, you balk in horror. "Eww!"

Tossing the offending undies into the hamper, you remember that Javier had another pair you'd given him in Medellín. Casting a glare around the room, you decide you must find them and wash them, regardless of how sulky he'll get. You look in every drawer, in the nightstands – even under the bed, and have no luck, so you sit on the soft surface and huff.

"If I was a filthy, naughty beyako, where would I hide my skanky jerkoff panties…" you mutter to yourself, pondering while grumpily stretching out on his side of the bed. Then, as you're lying on your back and staring up at the ceiling, you instinctively skim your hand down the edge and wedge your hand under the mattress. "Oh for the love of god," you cackle as you pull out the sought-after panties. "I can't fucking believe it," you impishly chuckle, sneering as you stand and deposit them into the hamper. "Blegh," is your acerbic grimace as you dust your hands off before moving on back to the original task at hand.

By the time you have the second load of laundry in the wash and the first in the dryer, you're in the kitchen, seasoning the chicken you plan to fry up for dinner. It's still early, almost an hour before the time Javi had said he'd be home by, so you'd started the rice and beans and now leave the seasoned chicken to marinate. You then busy yourself with padding around barefoot as you peruse his apartment.

You get to catalogue all the things you haven't noticed the few times you'd been over before. His walls are bare, and there aren't any tchotchkes – no family photos, or really anything that spoke of his life in any way. But then you spot a few books aligned on the bottom shelf of the entertainment system, so you go over and pluck a thick textbook out and fan through it. The criminology book is worn, and there are several folded pages and highlighted sections throughout it. Intrigued, you look at the other books in his collection.

There's a just as well read History of Colombia, a paperback of Cien Años de Soledad, and a copy of Open Veins of Latin America. Impressed, you return everything in it's previous alignment on the shelf before going to check on the stove. Glancing over at the credenza, you smile at the vase of now-wilted roses, and go over to tidy up – sweeping the spent rose petals that had fallen onto the top in one hand while you hum at the lack of any other plants in his abode. You're idly trying to remember if he had any potted plants at his old apartment while you're disposing of the flowers and washing out the vase. You leave the spherical vase to dry on the dishcloth while humming a jaunty tune as you decide to make yourself a drink.

Once the dryer dings, you take the piping clothes out and set up the ironing board to tend to items that require pressing. In not much time, you have all of Javier's dress shirts ironed and hung up in the closet while you steam the wrinkles out of his ties. You're ridiculously content as you busy yourself with the domestic tasks your boyfriend clearly hates doing for himself, and in no time, you're sorting the remaining load out of the dryer. Your now-salvaged undies are folded and neatly stored in the top drawer of the dresser while you iron, roll and fold the other garments to be stored in their proper place.

Stowing the iron and board away, you start organizing some of the sheets of paper strewn on the counter as you sip your drink. One of them lists the instructions from the in-building dry cleaning service downstairs. Humming, you see they're open for ten more minutes, so you hurry over to grab Javi's suits.

Sitting on the bed while you quickly check all the pockets of each blazer and pant, you fish out some receipts, a few coins, spent gum packets, and the occasional cigarette cellophane wrapper. You're digging into the left pocket of a muted-brown blazer when you pluck out a slightly crumpled note. Furrowing your brow, you notice the dark, bold penmanship and unfurl the paper.

A cold chill runs down your spine, breath stuttering while you stare at the note, rereading it over and over in a vacant attempt to try and make sense of it.

When Javier comes through the door a while later, he can't help call out in a cheesy croon, "Honey, I'm home," with a bright smile on his handsome features, demeanor carefree – until he sees you sitting on the couch.

The apartment is dimly lit. The kitchen light is on, but you've only switched on a lamp in the living room, seeming to favor sitting in the din with what looks to be a stiff drink resting on the coffee table. Tossing his keys onto the credenza and shirking the empty lunch container to the counter, Javi strides over to you. "Querida, what's wrong?" he asks as he nears, pausing when you hesitate and fiddle with something in your hands. He can smell the aroma of your delicious rice and beans, and he hears the air conditioning kick on, but everything seems odd when juxtaposed with your uneasy glance – with how you curl into the sofa cushions worriedly.

Taking a fortifying breath, you pat the empty spot next to you, beckoning him to sit. Once Javi plunks down and his stare only intensifies, you sigh and show him the paper in your hands. "I was sorting through the laundry to take down to the dry cleaners, when I found this," you say, watching intently for his reaction.

YOU BROKE IT, YOU BOUGHT IT. ASSHOLE!

His jaw sets, clenching tightly. "This? It's nothing," he tries to dismiss, tossing it down onto the coffee table as he pivots to nuzzle you and flippantly drawl, "That's what's got you all tense? You should see some of the memos I get—"

Shying away, you stand and pad barefoot across the apartment to grab your purse from the counter, digging through it judiciously before producing something and walking back to him. Holding his confused gaze with your dubious stare, you hand him the folded piece of paper. "This was left on my desk earlier in the week," you tell him evenly as he takes it and opens it.

CONGRATULATIONS ON THE FUNDING. LOOKING FORWARD TO WORKING TOGETHER SOON.

Javier sees red. You watch on, disarmed, as his hands curl into fists while his shoulders broaden and square up. He bows his head, tucking his chin down to hide the furious expression contorting his features as he grapples with his blinding rage.

"That pinche cabrón," Javi growls in a gravelly pitch, blood pressure shooting up and anger welling in his chest. "That bastard—" he snarls – warring with the dizzying wave of impotent anger zinging in his veins when he finally looks up at you and sees the bewildered trepidation in your face. He reins himself in and pulls you over to sit next to him. "Fuck, I'm sorry—"

"Stechner wrote that to you."

Javi tenses, and when you just insistently stare at him, he gruffly confirms, "Yes. He slipped it in my folder during the meeting with the Colombian officials at the National Palace, after we captured Gilberto Rodríguez…"

Absorbing that, your brows knit together in brooding thought. This was clearly an attempt by the CIA station chief to size you up in some way, and the fact he left that note after Javier had thwarted his plans could not be downplayed.

"I should've known," you muse out loud, adding thoughtfully, "I didn't think of him until I saw this note. But I should've suspected him sooner."

Javier's expression shutters in at how calm and clinical you're being about this. "That motherfucker has no cause to be hassling you, and I'm going to tell him so tomorrow—"

"You will do no such thing, Javier," you suddenly snap and glare seriously at him. "That's exactly what he wants you to do. Don't play into that prick's hands, please," is your resolute sneer, grabbing both notes and folding them together before marching to the counter and storing them in your purse.

That riles Javi, so he stands and emphatically rails, "I don't give a fuck! He can try pissing on my plans all he wants, but he's not going to retaliate against me by harassing you."

"He's not harassing me," you dismiss curtly and turn to stare impatiently at him. "This is his attempt at rattling my cage and seeing if I'll take the bait. I will not, so I expect you not to go más macho and confront him, which will only prove he can get to you by bugging me," is your sharp assessment as you stride back to him when you see him only wind up with frustrated anger. Caressing your hands up his chest to slip them under his blazer so you can knead his shoulders and intensely stare up into his smoldering glare, you murmur gently, "He's a supercilious, self-important, limp dildo, Javi."

That is such a ridiculous description of the smarmy bastard Bill Stechner that Javier scoffs cynically and snorts when you playfully grunt and shake him by the shoulders. "Yeah, well, I don't want that fucker bothering you," he grumbles gruffly and pulls you against him, nuzzling a kiss to your hairline.

You want to assure him that no such thing will occur without ending in a very well planned outcome that will backfire on the facetious man, but decide to muse light-heartedly instead, "He won't, mi amor. Let's forget about him so he doesn't spoil any more of our night, ok?"

Surly, he grunts, so you huff and start kissing him relentlessly until his scowl dissolves and that irreverent smirk quirks his pillowy lips. "I won't argue with that," he chuckles and squeezes your ass cheekily before stealing a flirty kiss from your lips.

Smiling, you backpedal impishly away towards the kitchen as you chime, "Good! Now go get comfy while I fry up the pollo."

He's about to snicker when he notices you've tidied up the counter and the louvered doors are open. Shit, did she…?

Loping into the bedroom while he shrugs his blazer off, Javi sees the hamper tucked by the closet and his empty duffle on the bed. The piles of clothes in the corner are gone. Then, it dawns on him, and he rushes to the duffle and digs into the hidden pocket.

You're merrily smirking to yourself as you tend to the chicken when you hear Javi complain gruffly, "Oh c'mon!" from the bedroom, hearing him fling the duffle to the floor before the protesting of the mattress as he lifts it to find the other hidden pair of panties gone. "Really?!" his exclaimed scoff has you giggling as you fry the drumsticks.

Javier's footfalls amble in from the bedroom a few minutes later. "Just got two more minutes of frying and then we can eat, babe," you innocently lilt as you keep your gloating features hidden.

"Who told you to clean, by the way?" he crisply grumbles, but you can hear the amusement in his baritone, poorly hidden away as he mutters, "You would have a fit if I went through your stuff—"

"Oh my god, you did though," you exclaim irreverently and whirl on him, quirking a derisive eyebrow at him while he rolls his eyes and his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. He's shoeless and tieless, shirt collar unbuttoned and belt removed from his slacks. "Remember?! You went snooping in my nightstand like, the next morning after our first time, malcriado. You're just mad I washed those disgustingly skanky panties—"

"They were not disgusting," he lamely counters and actually gives you a pouty glare as he puts his hands on his hips.

You wrinkle your nose derisively and drawl, "You know they were, so stop being a silly beyako and go set the table for me, please?"

The corner of his mouth twitches in a lewd smirk before he husks, "I'll just steal a pair when you're not looking," before loping into the kitchen to retrieve the napkins and cutlery. You turn back to the stove to hide your amused reaction, which gives Javier the opportunity to teasingly brush up against you, and add raunchily, "Maybe the ones you're wearing right now, even."

It's incomprehensible how wet he gets you just from telling you something so shameless. The ache in your lower back is replaced by the pulse of arousal that thrums between your thighs now, leaving you ridiculously turned on as you take the last pieces out of the frying pan and shut the stove off. He sees the apples of your cheeks flush, and he knows it isn't from the heat in the kitchen, so he smugly sets the table and smiles when you fan yourself and go to get a hair tie so you can fasten your locks up in a messy bun.

Dinner is wonderful – spent merrily eating and catching up about the day. When you notice the bruise on his finger, you tut and take his hand so you can affectionately kiss it. "Who'd you piss off to slam a drawer shut on your poor finger?" you lament, smiling when he scoffs and caresses your cheek.

"Just myself, with that goddamn filing cabinet drawer. Wasn't paying attention," Javi huffs dryly. He wants to add that it was partially your fault by distracting his thoughts – that he spent every spare moment replaying what you'd told him that morning. Instead, he steals a kiss from your lips as he gets up from the table and collects your dish, and true to his promise, when he finishes clearing the table and washes the dishes, he smugly declares, "We're having dessert in the bedroom, querida."

Snickering, you finish your drink and lean over the counter separating you from him to contrarily muse, "It'll have to be a one-sided dessert tonight, stud."

He shakes his head charismatically. "Nonsense," Javier croons and turns to face you while he dries his hands. "Not after I've been thinking about you all damn day – going without you and coffee—"

"You are such a dork," you giggle and toss your napkin at him, which he catches and deposits in the trash before sighing noisily and pursing his lips at you.

Javi starts unbuttoning his shirt open as he walks around the counter to get to you. "I've been called many things, but dork is a new one," he jokes as he tugs his shirt loose from his slacks and finishes unbuttoning it. Your coy smile becomes an alluring smirk when you grab both ends of his open dress shirt and guide him close.

His scent is even better now that your senses are heightened by your hormones – warm spice of his skin making your blood vessels expand in tantalized attraction, seeking out more. So, you press your nose to his chest and get lost in his musky, spiced and salty smell, on delay when his hands yank you up against him by the backs of your thighs so he can effortlessly carry you into the bedroom. You hum contentedly as you nuzzle his neck and kiss his pulse. Javier lays you on the bed and climbs over you, intending to stay on his propped hands and knees when you protest and pull him down on top of you to meet your hungry kiss.

You both languidly make out and enjoy the feel of each other – how warm his chest and back are when you wrap your arms around him and trail your touch under the shirt. Javier caresses a hand up the contour of your side to hike your soft dress up, but you thwart its assent and mewl into his mouth. "I can't tonight," you whisper against his lips when he sits up enough to stare intently with lusted eyes at you. "Let me just take care of you," is your breathy murmur as you slip your hand down his body to reach for his fly.

He gently redirects your hand up and kisses the inside of your wrist. "Don't be silly. I told you, it's nothing to be skittish about—"

"Pfft, I can't really stay in the mood if I'm bleeding all over the bed, Javier," you counter grumpily, plush lips pouting when he sits up and arches a sardonic brow at you. "It's not sexy, and daresay, it's actually really embarrassing—"

"But it's normal and nothing to be embarrassed about?" he contradicts and affectionately traces your jawline with his fingertips. "If you want to…we can. Don't go without because you think it'd bother me, is all I mean."

Sighing bashfully, you chew on the inside of your cheek. After all, this was a first for you both. Peculiarly enough, your relationship had been so on-and-off that you'd rarely had your time of the month while Javier was around. He'd either be coming back from Medellín right after your period or you'd spend a solid week together right before it. Stars aligning and full moons cresting in your favor, you suppose.

Now though, as you try avoiding being flustered, you stretch out under him before mustering the gumption to query, "You wouldn't be grossed out? For real?"

He reassuringly chuckles, "Christ, of course not, cariño. It's just sex, well, with maybe a towel over the bed, but really, it's no different than dealing with cum, if you think about it," Javier muses wryly, but when he sees you look a bit dubious, he sobers and assures, "But if it bothers you that much—"

"Once, when I was at a house party, I went up to a bedroom with a really cute guy my age, and in the middle of sex, I got my period," is your interjection, confiding in a self-deprecating stream of consciousness, "He saw the blood and freaked. I was so embarrassed. I wasn't supposed to get it for a few more days, and then there I was, bleeding over some Upper East Siders' expensive Egyptian cotton sheets with this jock acting like the elevator from The Shining opened up between my legs," you explain and cover your face self-consciously. "It was so mortifying!"

Rolling onto his back and tugging you along with him, Javier groans while consolingly pulling you into his arms to tut, "What a fucking idiot."

You laugh and shake your head. "That was the last time I hooked up with anyone I went to school with. Didn't save me from all the gossip and taunts, though," you sigh flatly and huff at yourself as you bury your face into his chest.

He's angry at hearing that, wishing he could retroactively take that pain from you and exact it on someone more deserving.

"So?! How are you so cool with the prospect of period sex, then?" you suddenly ask and sit up to squint adorably down at him when you think you're looking judiciously bossy.

He snorts and stretches out under you so he can fold his hands behind his head. "I grew up with lots of girl cousins. A few were older than me, and at family gatherings, I would hear some crazy girl shit," he tells you earnestly, and you crack an endeared smile. "My cousin Lucía once told the other girls that the best way to get rid of period cramps was to ride a guy and get fucked side saddle," Javier remarks without an ounce of shame while you dissolve into startled giggles.

"They'd talk about that around you?!" you ask, still laughing in shock as you absently tuck the rogue strands of hair that have escaped your bun behind your ears.

"I mean, I might've been eavesdropping around the corner of the barn, but yeah," he remarks aloofly and shrugs a shoulder.

"How old were you?!" you chortle, smile silly and intrigued.

"I don't know, maybe 11 or 12? I was the only boy for a while until my cousin Danny was born," Javier remarks warmly while you start giggling at the mental image of a little Javi hearing girl talk and gaping in round-eyed horror. "So? Let's shower, and if you're in the mood…" he suggests in a tentative, no-pressure drawl before cupping the small of your back and rubbing his fingers soothingly in massaging circles there.

Nodding, you acquiesce. Once you've taken your earrings off and shed your dress, you go to the bathroom while he strips out of his suit, and after you've removed your tampon and used the facilities, you hop in the shower and get joined by Javi a few minutes later. He's ridiculously tender and sweet with you – rubbing his hands down your body and kneading his thumbs gently into your achy lower back, kissing the shell of your ear while you rinse the soap off your skin. He's even behaving while you affectionately lather his chest up and wash him sensually. And the kisses he steals from your lips are soft, albeit tender with desire.

Once dry and back in the bedroom, you can't deny how enticed and worked up you are, cunt yearning to be split open on his thick cock, regardless of your previous insecurity. So, you lay the dark towel down on the bed and stretch out over it, completely nude and feeling tingly for him. Javier takes the unspoken assent and sheds his towel to admire you from the front of the bed. You're tempted to suggest he use a condom, but you don't have a chance when he ruggedly pulls you to the foot of the bed by the backs of your knees, and pushes them gently up and apart.

You inhale a charged breath and blush, keeping your hands down on the bed and staring demurely up at Javi. His hands glide down to caress your inner thighs, and you get lost in the tickling tingle his touch ripples through you while you gaze up at his golden skin and start to really yearn for him to be inside you. Javi's brown eyes capture your sultry gaze as he trails his touch through the soft curls of your mound before brushing his thumb over the hood of your clit while his other hand keeps one of your thighs butterflied open from you arching and mewling.

"If at any point you want me to stop, tell me," he murmurs to you and keeps his dark coffee gaze on yours.

You nod and bite your bottom lip, anticipating his hands to nudge your legs completely open so he can nestle between them and press into the cradle of your pelvis to rut his thick, engorged cock you're now staring at into you. Instead, Javi surprises you by bowing over your torso to kiss and suckle an incandescent path from your sensitive nipples – both of which he purses his mouth over to lave and tease the pebbled morsels – to the crest of your sex before his hands push your hips up so he could angle your pelvis up to his greedy worship.

The gasp you let out when he licks the seam of your pussy before suckling over the hood of your clit sounds pitchy and floored to your own ears, but you instinctively arch back and rock your hips up higher to him, seeking more. Your face burns with anxiety, but it's becoming muddled under your mounting arousal as Javi hums in desire at your reaction and sweeps his tongue through your folds.

"Ah, Ja-Javi," you mewl and start to tremble in anticipation of the worst. That he'll recoil from your ripened womanhood, or you'll gush into his mouth, but just as you start to get taut from the fretting, Javi groans and buries his tongue into you.

The feral delight that dings in Javier at the heady-yet-tender feel of your pussy engulfing his tongue makes him wild and eager for more, so he swipes the talented appendage around your fluttering slit and glances up at you to make sure he's not misreading your cues. You're quivering now, eyes glossed over with awed lust as you pant and gasp in nervous excitement. Smirking up at you, Javier uses the flat of his tongue to lave a long lick up your pussy before flicking it over your clit. You let out a startled moan and writhe, cheeks burning with your blush.

"Jesus, you taste so fucking good," he growls and plants a sloppy kiss to the inseam of your thigh. "Just wanna bury my face in your pussy, baby—"

"Ja-Javi, you can't," you giggle and press the back of your hand over your eyes, overwhelmed and bashful about it. He rumbles in protest, so you huff a flustered sound before looking at him and seeing he's genuinely into eating you out and savoring your heightened warmth, scent and taste. It makes your core melt down into cloying desire, enraptured by the hunger you see in his eyes as he toys his lips along your cunt. With a breathy sound, you beg, "Please, n-need you inside me."

Javier needs no other prompt. Effortlessly, he shifts you up further on the bed so he can plant his knees on the soft surface – strategically keeping you both placed over the towel you laid out – and hitches up between your thighs before skimming his throbbing, thick erection over your mound. The weight of his length against you has you groaning lustfully – the anticipation of having it buried inside your heated and syrupy sheath has your pussy weeping with excitement. He's trying to keep control of his own desire and not miss any sign of your unease or discomfort, so he gives you an intent and appraising once over while his hands soothingly rub the tops of your thighs.

He takes you in. Flushed cheeks, plush-panting lips, blown out pupils staring gorgeously up at him. Your skin is several degrees warmer than usual, running hot and feeling sinuous. Your usually taut tummy is supple and soft, and he finds himself skimming his fingertips over your womb, admiring how smooth and warm you are there as you wistfully relax and sigh. Javier thinks how beautiful you'd look with a round little belly and it takes his mind a second to register that and snap him back. Fuck me, where did that come from?!

You let out a soft giggle when his touch starts to tickle, so he leans down and plants a kiss on your sternum, between your breasts, before he purrs, "Mi hermosura, tan tierna y calientita."

The delight he sees crest your alluring eyes settles a warm ache in his chest. "Deja de tentarme, amado," you breathily whine and reach for his hand so you can trail his fingertips along your mouth before suckling the pad of his index and middle fingers. You watch his gaze get heavy with want, so you murmur, "Give it to me, Javi…please. I want it."

He groans and caresses your jawline as he guides his cock to part your folds and press into you. His thrust breaches you and feels amazing, punching pleasure so swiftly into your pussy that it blows apart the menstrual cramping and aches in your lower back. For Javi, it feels like your tight pussy is molten – clutching him lushly and rippling like velvet, wet heat around his cock. Planting his hands on either side of you, Javi snaps his hips into you and groans a husky sound as you grab his triceps and hike your pelvis up to encourage him to thrust deeper. So, with a feral growl and possessive nuzzle, Javi slams home and hits that devastating point inside you before he sets a toe-curling pace in his piston-like strokes into your melted silken vise.

You'd be utterly mortified by the messy and obscene sounds coming from him pumping his ramrod cock through your squelching pussy if him fucking you like this didn't feel so insanely good. The boisterous pleasure that sears up your body to fizzle delirious rapture into your throat has you dizzy, escaping you as a delectable moan Javi's never heard you make before, so he suckles a hungry kiss into your neck as he shoves his hand under you to tilt your lower back up on his next pounding series of thrusts.

Gasping incandescently and clinging to Javier now, you moan, "Oh fuck-oh my fucking god!" He can feel your cunt flood over and wring around his pulsing cock just as you toss your head back and sob, "Javi!" when you climax hard, so wrecked and overcome by the ecstasy of sensation in this fertile state your body is in that you hike your knees instinctively up to grapple with his sides and bury your face in his shoulder. Your fingers are clutching at his back as he groans and prolongs your bliss – slamming his cock over and over into you while ravished mewls fall from your gasping lips.

He keeps rocking into your luscious cunt as you tremble from the waves of pleasure crashing through your insides, so when you whimper overwhelmed little sounds, Javier soothes you with, "I got you, querida. Not going anywhere. J-Just let go and don't worry, mi tiernita. K-Keep you safe."

Your eyes well with tears and you surrender to the soul-shattering feeling of trusting someone so utterly and fiercely. He feels you relax, hears your satiated little sighs as he tries to regain his own breath from the staccato, shallow panting it's become. His cock is throbbing, but he's concentrating on you, making sure you're not anything but satisfied as he nuzzles your temple and caresses his hand along your side.

"Javi?" Your voice sounds soft and breathy, so he sits up on his propped hands on either side of you again to gaze down at you. He sees how smoldering your expression is, flushed and sultry with the promise of sinfulness. "Please, mi amor, fuck me again," is your smoky petition, hungry and shameless as you bat your lashes and caress an open-mouth kiss over his forearm.

Javi's cock throbs in response inside you, enthralled features becoming lustful as he smirks and nods. "As you wish, guapita," he grouses and leans down to kiss you.

The feeling of being railed by Javier is just short of heaven for you right now, any previous unease or embarrassment discarded for the exhilarating and heightened pleasure you're in. He flipped you from your back onto your knees before he speared back into your molten cunt from behind, hands on the small of your back and pressing you to bow into the bed to just let him dominate you like this. For his part, Javier is loving how wired and raw you are in your pleasure, savoring the luscious clutch of your pussy swallowing his cock greedily while you moan and give yourself over to him.

The sight of you coming and writhing under him with your ass up against him has his cock straining and swelling with an impending release, but it's your reaching a hand blindly behind yourself to grip his wrist while begging, "Fucking fill me with your cum, Javi, please, please please!" that sends him over the scintillating edge of a ferocious orgasm.

He shouts out and barrels mindlessly into your molten cunt over and over until his climax surges in thick bursts to saturate your already melted insides with his spend. Shivering, his thrusts stutter in rhythm as he groans charged, hoarse sounds of completion before he clumsily folds over you and gasps into the nape of your neck.

You're drunkenly smiling into the bed, elated and the most fulfilled you've ever felt in your life. You can feel the debauched mess seeping out of you, but you can't muster the shame or concern, so you lie under Javi until he comes to his senses and regains his awareness.

"Shit, baby, you ok?" he mumbles and shifts to roll you both onto your sides, staying nestled inside you and pressed up against you while he encircles your body and spoons you.

"Mmm…" you respond sensually and pull your knees up closer to your chest so you can feel like a curled up sated thing, warm and coiled against him. "I've never felt better," you sigh contentedly and interlace your fingers with the hand he has resting over your womb.

Javi grunts proudly and nuzzles you in the spot beneath your ear. "Want me to pull out?" is his mellow chuckle, and you shake your head, making a little sound to protest the suggestion. "Mmph, you're so warm. Feel so good," he mumbles on a wistful exhale and kisses the side of your neck.

Your mind is recovering from a flashflood of lust that numbed all your shame and inhibitions, and now that the flood has ebbed and left you dazed in its wake, you can't muster any fretting thoughts. Instead, some primal little spark in you hazes at the vacant musing that Javi could've easily gotten you pregnant after something that heady and primordial – pill or no pill. And the anxiety the thought coaxes free from the lust-logged recesses of your mind shakes you loose. However, the thought of such a happening doesn't well cold terror in you like it did the last time, but it gives you pause.

Squeezing his hand, you whisper, "I'm kind of scared to look."

He snorts and kisses the sloping juncture of your shoulder before he eases out of you and shifts. The aftermath of your lovemaking is a crimson-tinged mess that's pooling on the dark towel, but definitely nothing to make him reconsider having sex while you're on your period. Really, he looks forward to doing it again,since it feels that good for the both of you. Agilely, Javi gets off the bed and cleans off before tending to you and helping you wriggle up off the sullied towel. A quick shower later, and you both get ready for bed.

He can't hide the adoring smile quirking his lips while he watches you tug your stretched out tour shirt-turned-pajama nightgown down over your cotton-panty-clad derrière before you shake out your hair from the messy bun and finger comb it. Glancing over and catching his flirty glance, you playfully leer at him while he charmingly climbs in his nude glory under the covers and pats your side of the bed. Slinking onto the bed, you kiss his cheek and smile when he pulls the bedding back for you to slip under with him before he shuts the lamp on the nightstand off.

Once under the covers in the dark, you cuddle into his side and murmur, "You're the best cramp reliever of my life."

Javier laughs heartily at that before wrapping his arm around you and rumbling, "We gotta try that side saddle business next time."

Now your turn to chuckle, you kiss his cheek and settle comfortably against him. "Maybe tomorrow?" you suggest as you teasingly brush your fingertips from his forehead down the etched bridge of his nose before thrumming them playfully over his mustachioed lips.

He kisses your impish digits before drawling, "Fuck yeah, I need something good to look forward to."

You sober at that. Caressing his cheek, you let your eyes adjust to the penumbra of the room so you can trail your touch up to his forehead, where you brush his rogue wisps of hair back. "That meeting?" you ask gently.

He sighs. "I know it's not going to go well. Vargas is on the surrender, keep things status quo, side of the argument. I fucked all that up for him and the rest of the Cali cronies," Javier grumbles dryly. "I've never been good at dealing with the political sleight of hand shit."

Absorbing that as you continue to caress your touch along his handsome countenance, you inquire, "And Crosby isn't on your side?"

Javier huffs flippantly. "His concern is about destabilizing relations with the Colombian government. He's given me shit, but has backed me up in front of officials, when it's come to a head," he remarks and idly caresses his hand along the length of your side. "I can't help suspect he's just shepherding shit along and doesn't care for actually taking down the cartel," is his sulky musing. He's dying for a cigarette, but with you nestled against him? The last thing he wants to do is get up to smoke right now.

"Well…maybe that's the case," you retort thoughtfully and feel Javi grunt in displeasure. "Crosby is one of the most pragmatic people I've ever met. There are other agencies in the building other than DEA," you can't help razz, and when he turns his head to glower at you? Your eyes twinkle as you give him a lopsided smile. "I'm serious. Not all of them have the same goals. Most of the time, agencies have competing interests. His job is to make sure none of that jeopardizes the standing of the U.S. here, on top of not pissing off the locals," is your judicious remark before you kiss his cheek and jibe, "If you're thinking the only goal is pursuing something for the greater good, you're gonna ruffle a lot of feathers."

He grunts at that, unable to take umbrage. It's insightful and objective – which is what he desperately lacks in his current circumstance.

Sitting up to kiss his forehead, you drawl, "Go have your cigarette."

Javi scoffs and fists his fingers through his hair. "How the hell did you know?"

"I know you, chulito," you giggle and playfully flick your thumb over his nipple, laughing when he inhales a sharp sound and taps your ass in retaliation. "Plus, your fingers start to fidget when you're craving a smoke," is your sardonic lilt.

He sits up in bed and pouts, shaking his right hand out and huffing sarcastically. "You should've gone into law enforcement with how good you are at spotting tells," he quips in a purring bass. "I already know you're a crack shot—"

You snicker and adjust to affectionately lean into him. "Ah-hah, keep it up, burlón. If you and I were partners on the job, I'd show you up," is your sassy retort, to which he makes an, 'Oh yeah?' drawn out grunt, so you nudge him bossily out of bed. "You know I would. Murphy would have nothing on me, and bonus: I'd take you home after work and handcuff you to the bed," you brazenly chime and goose him.

The yelp Javier gasps out has you grinning. "Tan atrevida," he growls derisively and moseys over to the dresser to get a pair of pajama pants to put on. "…I might take you up on that," he drawls as he pulls the bottoms on and shoots you a saucy wink before loping out of the room, quickly returning with the pack and lighter. "Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind putting you in the cuffs instead," Javi quips as he pulls the curtain back from the windows so he can open the center pane before lighting up a cigarette and exhaling the smoke away into the night air.

Propping the pillows up behind yourself so you can lounge more comfortably and shoot him a playful look, you deadpan, "I'm sure."

Chuckling, he takes a long pull from the cigarette before exhaling. "Maybe this weekend?" he queries and bounces his brows at you.

You giggle and shake your head amusedly as you grab the ashtray from the nightstand and hold it out to him so he can flick the ash into it. He takes it from you and does so as you remark aloofly, "Only plans I have are to make that lasagna for Ellis. Perhaps I can pencil you in for some kinky fun at some point."

He hums intriguingly at that as he stubs his cigarette out and shuts the window. "How magnanimous of you," he remarks goadingly as he pulls the curtain back into place. "Shit, I still have to find something to wear to that fancy art thing Monday night," Javi blurts as he places the ashtray back on the nightstand and saunters to the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Unless you wanna sort through my closet and judge more of my clothes," is his cheeky callout to you before you hear water start to run from the faucet.

Amused, you take the chance to lotion up your elbows and knees while you hear him gargling. "You know what? I think I'll do that tomorrow. Sort through all your clothes and organize them by 'cute and can stay' to 'horrible and must burn' categories," you're remarking glibly loud enough for him to hear. His haughty scoff echoes down to you just as he dries his face before shutting the bathroom light. "Worst case scenario will be taking you to a tailor to get your measurements so I can get you a nice outfit—"

Javier dismissively huffs at that as he saunters back into the room and tosses himself down on the bed to frown in faux-outrage at you. "I know��how to dress. I'm quite a snappy dresser, if I do say so myself," he grumbles ruggedly and playfully tugs you close by your hip. "Shit, I know for a fact you like how I dress—"

"I do, but everyone could use a bit of sprucing up," you tease and kiss the corner of his mouth when he twists his lips in a pouty grimace. "But button-up shirts and 'fuck me' jeans aren't appropriate for every outing—"

" 'Fuck me' jeans?!" he balks and stares comically at you. "Is that what you call 'em?"

"Oh my fucking god, Javi. Your jeans contour to you like they were sewn on! They barely leave anything to the imagination, so is it any wonder I'd call 'em your 'fuck me' jeans?" you cackle irreverently and squeal peels of laughter when he starts relentlessly tickling and kissing you.

"But you like them, right?" he growls while you giggle and squirm against him.

"I love them, Javi, now quit it – quit it!" you exclaim in between peels of laughter, so Javi loops his arms around you and hoists you to lie on top of him after he flings himself backwards into the pillows. Mirthful, you giggle, "You don't have to worry about me chucking any of 'em away, let's just put it that way."

"You better not, traviesa," he grunts bossily and squeezes you affectionately. "Now, quit keeping me up and go to sleep."

You scoff and wriggle to sit up and straddle his lap so you can playfully swat him lightly on his bare chest. "Mira quien habla," is your sassy huff before you daringly tousle his hair and nimbly scamper off of him to slide under the covers.

He chuckles and rolls to tug you against him so he can spoon you and suckle doting kisses into your neck. "Goodnight, bravita."

Turning to brush your lips in a silly peck next to his nose, you chime, "Buenas noches, chavón."

Settling down, you both easily doze off, lulled by well-achieved exhaustion and the tranquil comfort of being together – of feeling completely safe with each other. Any anxious feeling Javier had about his upcoming day had been quelled by you, making sleep come heavy and serene for him. So much so, that when he stirred awake a few minutes before the alarm clock was meant to go off, he was drowsy and lethargic as he rolled over to reach for you.

Finding your side of the bed empty, Javi dully wondered if he'd dreamed you, before his brain kicked on completely and he sat up in bed. Grunting, he scrubbed his hands over his face and let his senses sharpen. He finally picked up on the sound of shuffling around out in the main room, so with a labored grumble and stretch of his back, he kicked the covers off and got up.

Javier finds you cooking at the stove, wearing your fluffy cream robe and matching slippers, with your hair up in a bun as you intently tend to the sausage links you have in the pan before shuffling back to the bowl you're using to crack some eggs into and whisking them briskly, then seasoning them with salt and pepper. The domestic sight has that funny feeling of warmth wriggling in Javi's breastbone. When you go to turn to retrieve the container of butter from the counter, you freeze and innocently blink at him.

"Ugh, I didn't mean to wake you," is your pouty whisper. "Was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed."

The beaming love he feels has him tangled up with what to say, so he just stands there and melts with charmed, albeit flustered awe. But then, you smile, endearing and sweet, and before Javier knows it, he has breezed over and wrapped his arms around you to capture your lips in a reverent kiss. You grunt in surprise and then giggle when he presses you up against the edge of the counter, which nudges his morning wood into you.

"Babe!" you chortle and fumble to nudge him back with how possessively affectionate he's being, so you pat his ass and nip impishly at his lower lip to get his attention. He jolts and leans back with those irrepressibly adorable brown puppy dog eyes. "You're gonna make me burn the sausages," you wryly admonish as you herd around him and expertly turn the links to the opposite side.

Before Javi could grumble a response, the alarm clock starts going off in the bedroom, so he begrudgingly goes to shut it off. By the time he comes back, you're already buttering the pan for the scrambled eggs. "You get the munchies when it's your time of the month?" he can't help quip when he hitches up behind you to nuzzle a kiss to the nape of your neck.

"Hah, sometimes, but this is for you, because I know you're going to neglect eating today," you muse sagely as you pour the eggs into the pan before turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubble-covered cheek. "I saw you have some Bustelo in the cupboard. Want me to brew a pot of coffee?" you ask as you fold the eggs before you start to fluff and scramble them.

"I'll take care of that," he retorts and caresses your robe-covered hip before going to do just that. "I never bother with it; brewing coffee here. Got me spoiled with Don Gilberto's stuff now," he warmly muses and glances at you, smirking when you shrug, as if to say, 'Well, naturally!'

Once the food is ready, you plate breakfast and sit at a stool at the counter next to each other to eat. Javi has such a healthy appetite when you cook for him, knowing his bad habit of not taking care of himself in keeping himself fed, which is why you push food on him like this. Watching him scarf breakfast down in a few minutes makes you feel less guilty about being so pushy, though.

Sipping from your mug, you sigh. "This is all right, but I just love how smooth and rich the other coffee is," you remark while he polishes off his plate and chugs down his orange juice. "Think you'll have a break to sneak down for a coffee date today?" is your flirty query as he dabs his mouth with a napkin.

"The meeting is first thing at CNP Headquarters, but I should be back in the office around lunchtime," he retorts smoothly and finishes his coffee before collecting all the dishes and taking them to the sink. "Got a lot of work today?"

"Yeah, just finalizing prep for the system that's coming in next week, and I have a meeting with Crosby later in the day," you remark and stand to cutely shuffle over to shut the sink off so you can bossily tug him to the bedroom. Javi grunts amusedly and follows, letting you shove him to sit on the bed so you can slink onto his lap and encircle your arms around his shoulders. Hugging him tight, you murmur, "You'll let me know how it goes?"

Exhaling, he nods and caresses your back. "I will, querida," he husks near your temple before nuzzling you.

Reluctantly, you both go through the morning chores of getting ready for work together. The quickie in the shower has you both smiling and bantering playfully about the raunchy fun to come over the weekend, which helps keep your collective worries at bay.

Once you're slipping on your chic heels, Javi's all dressed, albeit fiddling with his deep red tie with oblong blue circles outlined in gold dots. Smiling, you waltz over and adjust it for him, fixing the knot and straightening it to fall smoothly over his crisp white dress shirt. While you do so, Javi takes the opportunity to admire your emerald chiffon blouse and tailored pencil skirt with the back split that shows a sliver of your supple thighs when you walk.

Glancing up at him through your long, dark lashes, you smile and purr, "To your liking, mi patrón?"

"Fuck…you can't say sexy shit like that to me when we're about to walk out the door, guapita," he growls and fondles your ass while he dips down to brush an open-mouth kiss along your neck.

You shiver and playfully grip his waistband. "Then quit looking at me all hungrily like that," is your smoky sigh as you cup his cheek and guide him to meet your lips for a chaste, doting kiss.

"Hmph," he grunts dryly and taps your ass before letting you strut over to grab your black blazer and slip it on. "Want to go out for dinner tonight?" Javi asks as he grabs his watch from the dresser and fastens it on.

"Oh, it'll have to be after happy hour," you retort and brush your hair back over your shoulders once you've shrugged the jacket in place comfortably. "It should be done by 7:30pm. Meet here around then and go together?" you suggest as you strut to the main room to grab your purse and tote while Javi follows and pockets his wallet, keys, service weapon, and grabs his obnoxiously large satellite phone.

"Sounds like a plan, preciosa," he drawls in a velvety tone before stealing a kiss from your lips as you both get to the door.

You snicker at the gesture when you both know that if the elevator is empty, you're going to make out all the way down to the garage. After locking up and escorting you to the end of the hall, you end up doing just that – kissing the entire ride down until the doors slide open. You know Javier's trying to prolong leaving, because he walks you to your car and opens the door and leans down to kiss you wistfully. So, you grab the lapel of his suit jacket and hold him from stepping back from the open door.

With a gentle smile, you murmur, "I love you."

Soulful eyes crinkling warmly at the corners, Javi husks, "I love you too," before stealing one last kiss from your lips.

Parting ways, you both drive to the start of your hectic days, hoping for the best.

Of course, things aren't that simple.

Especially not for Javier. The moment he walked into the conference room and saw how jam-packed with people it was, the cold chill of anxiety trickled down his spine. Sitting across from Crosby and seeing the glacial stare fixed stoically on him while the meeting was opened up by some of Vargas' tenientes didn't help his wariness dissipate either. So, when the general at the head of the conference table went in on his supercilious recounting of events up to date, and made it appoint to emphasize the unilateral operation that did not have his blessing, Javier knew he was poised to get a verbal dagger thrown his way.

What Javier did not expect was to get directly called out.

"Well in that case, I will turn things over to the man who's responsible for this situation. Maybe he can walk us through his path to victory. So Agent Peña, what comes next?" When Javier looks over at the man, he gives him a thin smile before adding crisply, "The floor is yours."

He'd be lying if he said stark panic hadn't seized him at being put on the spot in such a flagrant manner. Javier's pulse jumped and anxiety wrung in his chest, so after self-consciously caressing his hand from his cheek to then press over his mouth, he quickly collected his thoughts in order not to end up the piñata of the meeting.

In a smooth musing tone, Javier answered, "I appreciate your candor, general. But I believe that the remaining capos will be liable to make more mistakes without the leadership of Gilberto Rodríguez. Their security apparatus might scale up, but that can't be achieved without bringing attention to their operation, which will no doubt create internal strife where the 'stabilizing influence' of Gilberto Rodríguez wouldn't have allowed for before."

"That is a very optimistic assessment," General Vargas flatly remarks and glances over at Crosby. "It does not take into account the 'volatility' of when that internal strife could spill out externally to the public."

"Our sources have assessed that had begun to happen before the raid, general," Crosby answers neutrally before glancing over at Javier. "The surrender plan was spearheaded by Gilberto, but there was some resistance from the other heads of the cartel."

"That, and now with his capture, will put pressure on them to regroup in a way they've not been willing to do prior, which will give us the advantage in our pursuit of the other capos," Javi remarks and gives Vargas a steely look. "One down, three to go. With your cooperation and the backing of the Minister of Defense, I believe we can successfully capture the others before any fallout can occur from the dismantling of Cali's operations."

Vargas looks annoyed, but gives them both another thin smile as he diplomatically drawls, "I would like to hear more about Minister Botero's thoughts on the matter. Perhaps once you've briefed him on your intentions?"

Goddammit. Javier knows he has to hustle his ass to do just that as soon as possible, for fear Vargas will start tainting things to his superiors who will then take it to Botero.

So, as soon as the meeting concludes, Javier huddles with Crosby in the corner of the hall, just outside the conference room, and tells him he's going straight to Botero's office. "Fine. I'll put in a call and ask that he take a meeting with you," the ambassador grouses as he starts dialing on his secure cell phone. "Just do me a favor and don't piss him off as bad as you did Vargas."

By the time Javi's marching across the sprawling plaza towards the regal building the minister's office resides, he can't help feel his day is about to go to shit, and then Feistl calls him. It's the last thing he needs to hear right now – about how Cali CNP got him and Van Ness on lockdown. How they won't let them off the base without an escort, but there conveniently was no manpower that could be spared to provide them said escort off base. Javi adds it to the list of shit he needs to manage now, and is seething by the time he climbs the steps and hustles into the building to meet with the new Minister of Defense.

Pleasantries aside, Javier senses the man is ambivalently on the level, but chooses to keep his cards close to the vest. He makes sure to keep his flippant sarcasm at a minimum as well, and manages to assure Botero that his only agenda is to take down the Cali cartel, and asks his help to lift the restrictions on Feistl and Van Ness. He doesn't expect the stoic man to suggest he find a witness who can testify against the cartel if he wants Gilberto Rodríguez to remain in jail. It feels like a warning more than a suggestion, so Javier rushes back to the embassy to just that.

You've just gotten back from a marathon of morning meetings when you walk into your office and sigh wearily as you sit in your desk chair, plopping your things on the desktop and checking your watch to see it's almost lunchtime when your cell phone rings. Reaching into your purse, you answer it.

"Hey," Javi's raspy baritone sounds tense, so your brows immediately furrow with worry. "Sorry for the short notice, but I can't do coffee today. I'm heading back to brainstorm over this Jurado thing with Stoddard."

"It's ok. How'd the meeting go?" you ask coolly and fiddle with a pen.

"It was a raking over the coals," he tells you acerbically, and you frown. "I went right after to meet with the new Minister of Defense. He basically told me Rodríguez could get out of prison if we don't find a witness against him and the cartel's operations," he sighs gruffly before muttering, "Need a break on Jurado's location."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you get up to swiftly close your office door and sit on the couch to ask in a hushed tone, "Well, what about his wife?"

"…What about her?" he asks, perplexed.

"I mean, if you catch Jurado, you'll have to give him immunity and protection for his cooperation, right? Which naturally will extend to his wife, so, why not put pressure on her to tell you where he's at?" is your suggestion, and you hear Javi exhale a bemused sound along with what you imagine is cigarette smoke. "I know you'll play your hand that you're looking for him, but the longer you wait to get him, the bigger the chance he'll just go MIA – or the cartel will take him out," you remark, adding, "The wife is likely the only thing keeping him tethered here."

Javi can't help hum thoughtfully as he drives towards the avenue that leads to the embassy's main security gate. "See? You should've gone into law enforcement," he jibes wryly, smiling as he flicks his cigarette out of the window and chuckling when you snicker a silly sound. "I gotta go. I'll see you tonight."

"Good luck, agente," you purr in his ear, and heat flares down into his groin. "Bye."

He's in a better mood when he gets to his office ten minutes later and pauses at the sight of a to-go coffee cup waiting for him on his desk. Smirking, he picks it up and takes several sips as he unloads his bulky satellite phone to the desktop. Once he's chugged enough of the delicious brew, he places the cup down and makes a beeline to the makeshift audio room Stoddard's in currently listening to the latest of the wiretaps. Unfortunately, the man has no good news about Jurado's location, so Javi's stuck pondering a risky maneuver before deciding it's his best play, under the fucked circumstances. He doesn't even feel like a dick when Stoddard finally asks to talk about the legalities of the wiretaps and he flat out rhetorically tells his deputy to think about his career and whether having the conversation will help or hurt his chances of getting there.

Javier does feel like a dick when he rushes home to change out of his gray suit for a red wool blend button shirt and well-worn cool-toned brown velvet jacket, brown belt and blue jeans. Slipping on his favorite leather boots, he wonders if he should call you – let you know he's going to take your advice and approach Christina Jurado, but decides against it. He second-guesses himself once he's tailing her from her condo to an upscale high-rise bar in the city, though. After all, it's been a while since he's had to approach a target like this, and back when he did so, he'd been single and industrious. Flirting his way in was his specialty, but it'd mostly been with working girls – not a married gringa who didn't know her life was about to be upended.

Plus…he didn't really want to flirt her up, but under the hasty circumstances, he didn't have another idea in mind. Sitting at the end of the bar now, he watched her drink her martini, how she plucked the olives into her mouth from the wooden stirrer and seemed desperate for some kind of respite. She was an attractive woman, he couldn't deny that, but he struggled to find a decent enough throughway to hook her and get her talking. So, he told the bartender to send her a martini, courtesy of him.

Hell, he could be charming when he didn't want to be, so, he loped over and turned it on, going for charismatically dashing.

She was not buying it.

To his chagrin, Javi couldn't help be reminded of Lorraine. Of how she could shut him down with a tepid smile and a scathing squint of her blue eyes. Christina Jurado was clearly a loyal wife, and with his window of opportunity about to close with her strutting off, Javi relents and drops the act. She is none too please or willing to cooperate, dismissively storming off with a parting, 'Enjoy your drink, Elliot Ness,' shot that leaves him feeling like a righteous jackass.

"Fuck," he swears under his breath before turning to the bar and asking for the bill with an impatient tap on the bar top.

Regrouping, he goes to his car and calls Stoddard, ordering him to make sure to pull the wiretaps for all calls in the next few hours and have them ready for when he gets back to the office. Deciding a second run at Christina is necessary, Javier goes to the Jurados' luxury condo and has the front desk call up that an Elliot Ness is there to see her. Once up in the apartment, he sits down and gives her the hard sell. What seems to rattle her bitchy façade to flint away is the idea that no matter how things play out, there would be no future for her or Franklin if he didn't help the DEA out.

"I didn't plan on living like this. It…it was a mistake, not stopping it sooner. Have you ever done anything like that?" Christina rambles and asks.

"I have." His tone is sincere but no-nonsense.

He doesn't ask her for his location.

Fearing doing so would scare her off to calling and warning her husband, he decides it's best to bait the line and see if she and Franklin take it. After all, he'd rather get the jump on the guy than risk him getting cold feet – to him cutting and running. So, Javier leaves his card and tells her to think it over, but the look in his stern brown eyes tells her not to take too long.

While he hurries back to the embassy, you're going into your meeting with the ambassador. When he looks up from his desk as you walk in, he grins at the sight of two to-go coffee cups held in your hands.

"Bless you for having the foresight to know my ass is dragging today," he snickers as you hand him one of the cups before sitting across from him in front of his desk.

"It's been a hectic week for everyone, sir. I think coffee is the only thing keeping the place from folding down," you chuckle before taking a sip.

He hums over the rim of his cup after taking a long draw and placing his coffee aside with a raspy exhale and weary smile. "Well, I hate to make it any more hectic for you, darlin', but I wanted to give you a heads up that CIA is a little jealous of DEA getting to be part of the pilot before them. Bill Stechner's been impressed with your operation, and let me know he wants in on it," Crosby tells you in a put-on conversational tone.

You're internally bristling at the thought of that fucking asshole poking around, but you tactfully smile and retort, "I'd be happy to discuss it further with him, sir—"

"I'm going to speak plain now," Crosby cuts in and leans forward to confide, "Bill doesn't report to me. And while I don't report to the CIA, we both know they have a lot of pull down here. I know you dealt with resistance from the agency in the past, but he's got a different mind about things. I wouldn't be surprised if he expects your department to fall in line with his wishes, but I want you to know that is not coming from me. I will leave it to you to decide how much leeway you want to allow the station chief…but just know that he's a treacherous son of a bitch when he wants to be."

Not betraying a flicker of shock or worry, you nod curtly. "I appreciate the advice, ambassador. So, should I go up to the top floor and set up a meeting with him?"

"Nah, he doesn't actually spend much time up there. He has a tendency to show up out the blue, so don't be surprised if he just pops into your office at some point," Crosby answers mildly before picking up his coffee cup and reclining in his chair. "Anyway, in better news, the funding is being fast-tracked to the State Department next week, so let me know if there are any issues with the finance team."

"Will do, sir," you stand and offer him a kind smile as you muse, "Have a nice weekend, and give my regards to Mrs. Crosby."

By the time you're back in your office, you're simmering with anger. Stechner's play is still a mystery to you, but you know he's a bastard who uses people and has no qualms about tanking careers if it strikes his whim. You're distractedly ruminating over it as you sit at your desk and review some of the requisitions, trying to find anything that would've been an in for the station chief to poke around in, when Francesca pops her head into your office.

"Hey! Is it a good time to run something by you?" she asks, and you wave her in, so she closes the door and rushes over to take a seat across from you. "I have all the prep done for next week, and was wondering if you needed me to come in? Since it's a school break, I'll be free."

"Oh, that would be great! I can have you sit in on the system launch stuff too," you remark and smile at her. "What about Monday night? Got everything set?"

"Yeah, I got my questions prepped, and a disposable camera so I can snap photos to add to the report," she chimes affably and leans over your desktop to cheekily whisper, "And I even got a nice dress I'm kinda gonna borrow from my roommate without her permission, but she's going to be away, so no harm done!"

"Hah, I'm glad. Do you need a ride to the museum?" you ask as you nurse your coffee.

"Actually, my dorm is only a block away from MAMBO, so I'm all set," Francesca remarks and adjusts her glasses onto the bridge of her nose.

You're about to retort when a knock raps on your door before it's opened and Ellis pokes his head in now. "Hey, kids! Private meeting? Just wanted to check if we're still on for happy hour," he inquires.

"Yeah, I won't be there until late this time, though," you answer as you wave him in. "Francesca and I were chatting about next week."

As the three of you chat pleasantly, Javier is painstakingly reviewing the wiretaps with Stoddard, forcing him to rewind and fast-forward sections for him and adjust the audio quality when needed. He can hear the tense desperation in Christina's voice, and just hopes she doesn't completely fall apart and spook Franklin. But it's on the next playback that he hears the clue he needs, and with a surge of hope, he rushes out of the audio room to dig for the number of the language guy at SLS. Said guy informs him 'Danki masha danki' is Papiamento, so based on that, Javier searched Caribbean nations that would have a luxury resort with an island villa for rent.

Curaçao. It made so much sense, and he kicks himself for not having thought of it before. Once he's rushed out to Stoddard and given the man the instructions, Javier goes back to his office to call Crosby and give him the heads up.

While Javier starts working on a plan of action, you're trying to wrap up a few things in your office.

Wearing the eyeglasses you use when your eyes are straining from staring at the computer screen for too long, you're furiously typing away, entering your clearances to sign off on field offices' requisitions and running an assessment of their pilot program hours. Ellis and the rest of the staff had already headed out to the bar, and you'd assured him you'd be maybe fifteen minutes more when he'd loped out, so you're checking your watch and seeing you have a few more minutes to spare when a knock on your open door stirs you to glance up from your laptop.

"Bad time?"

You have to will your features into a stoic, placid regard upon seeing the CIA station chief taking up space at your doorway. "Not at all," you reply as you remove your glasses and shut your laptop before standing and gesturing to a chair while you ask, "Would you like to have a seat?"

"Ah, that won't be necessary," he casually waves off before loping into your office in a perusing pace, as if you're there for his amusement. "I take it you spoke to the ambassador?"

"Yes, and he informed me of your interest on having CIA on boarded to the pilot program," you retort and sit on the corner of your desk, which discourages him from loping any closer. "I know you rarely keep office hours, Agent Stechner—"

"Call me Bill," the smarmy man lilts and gives you a mild smile. "And I trust you to know the right resources that should be brought on to the pilot, but I have a list here," he remarks as he fishes out a folded piece of paper from his blue corduroy blazer's pocket and hands it to you. "These are my top guys – and gals – that I would like to have first shot at the program. If, they meet your requirements, of course," is his drawl as he flicks his deriding eyes from the paper to your gaze.

"Absolutely," you answer, deliberately avoiding addressing him at all by his title or first name. "Would you like me to set up a status report with your deputy?"

"I don't have one, but, like I said: I trust you," he muses glibly, slipping his hands in his dark slacks and shrugging his corduroy-clad shoulders before he turns and lopes to the door. "Oh, by the way," he says as he pauses at the threshold and turns to glance sidelong at you. "I hope you thanked Agent Peña for putting in a good word with the Senators. I doubt you would've gotten any of the funding you requested otherwise," he jabs as he toys his tongue along his bottom lip thoughtfully before adding, "Although, seeing as he spent his afternoon personally tracking a target and flirting her up at the bar, I guess you wouldn't have the opportunity to give him your thanks."

His steely blue eyes flicker over you, but instead of a haughty flare of temper, you serenely smile at him and remark, "Well, next time I see him, I'll be sure to thank him. He's been quite a busy man recently, after all."

The dig earns a quirk of his lips before he aloofly snickers, "You have a good night, director."

"You as well," you remark and stand to return back to your desk chair, making a point to dismissively open your laptop and go back to your work.

You can feel Stechner get a bit miffed that you don't track his exit, but when you distantly hear the chime of the arriving elevator out in the main hall, your poker face becomes a glower. Fucking asshole really has it in for Javi…I'm going to have to vet things quicker than planned…

As soon as Stoddard confirmed that Willemstad Police had a track on Franklin Jurado's location on the island, Javier instructed him to book a flight out for him ASAP, so once his deputy informed him the next departure was in a couple of hours, Javier told him to lock it in. He's rushing home a few minutes later, needing to pack his duffle with a few changes of clothes in anticipation of spending several days with the Cali moneyman once he's captured and processed in Miami. When he arrives in the garage and doesn't see your car, he frowns and hurries up to the apartment while he preemptively dials your cell phone number.

"Hello?" you answer, and he can hear a lot of ambient noise in the background.

"Hey, baby. Where are you?" Javi asks as he enters his apartment and turns on the lights before striding to his bedroom to grab his duffle.

"I'm at happy hour with my staff. Is something wrong?" you retort.

"Fuck…that's right. Sorry, I forgot," he grumbles while he starts packing clothes into the duffle. "Listen, something's come up, and I'm flying out to Curaçao, so I might be gone a few days—"

"You found him, then?" you ask, and he can't quite place your tone. "When is the flight?"

"It's in over an hour. I'm at my place packing and heading direct to the airport—"

"I'll leave now—" you begin to tell him.

"No, that's ok," he assures, although he would love to see you before he goes. "Don't come rushing over on my account. It'll only be a few days, and I'll call you when I can," Javier assures as he tosses his travel toiletry case into the duffle and zips it up. "I'm sorry about dinner."

You make an easy-going sound in response. "It's fine. Just promise me you'll let me know you've landed and are safe?" you petition, sounding like you've stepped outside to talk without the ruckus of the bar chatter and music. "And, promise you won't go cowboy down there?"

"…I can promise the former, but can't commit to the latter," he tells you honestly, and you huff into the phone. "Querida, I got my guys in Cali, so I'm going solo on this. I might need to do some cowboy shit," is his grouse as he shoulders his duffle and starts heading out.

"What happened to 'I'm not a field agent anymore? No more getting roped down into shit'?" you counter, which has Javi internally swearing while he locks up before stalking down to the elevator. But then, you let out a rescind hum. "Sigh…be careful, mi amor."

His frown becomes a rueful smile. "I will, cariño. I'll call you when I'm at the hotel. Ok?"

"You better," you growl at him, and that familiar flare of arousal coils in his apex at your bossy tone. "Have a safe flight, hermoso. I love you."

"Love you too, guapita. Talk soon," Javi purrs before ending the call and getting into the elevator.

Sighing worriedly, you lean against the banister of the bar's foyer, heartache already welling in your chest. You only stay half hour longer before making sure Ellis will settle the tab. "—And I'll come over to your place probably late afternoon with the lasagna," you're telling him as you shoulder your purse.

"Awesome! I'm salivating already," he quips and gives you a farewell hug before you pat Francesca on the shoulder and wave to the staff as you head out.

Javier's at the airport bar when Christina Jurado calls and assures that she can get Franklin to agree to cooperate – that she just needed more time. He's too tired to linger on the irony of the harried woman professing to something he knows is bullshit and was currently en route to rectify, but once his 2-hour flight to Willemstad lands, he snickers to himself. Even though he crashed and burned at the bar, approaching her had been a good play after all. The thought of telling you the story makes him wonder if you'll razz him, maybe even punish him for not quite following your suggestion. Fuck…she's got me whipped.

Any acerbic humor he nurses is snuffed the minute he steps off the plane and feels the Caribbean heat press into him.

By the time he's checked into his hotel room, Javier is hastily tearing his jacket off and stripping free of the rest of his clothes as he stalks to the small bathroom and gets the shower running. Even after the cold shower, he ends up standing in front of the air-conditioning unit's vents in his towel, baffled by how drastic the shift in climate could be. Deciding to stay parked in front of the blowing cold air for a bit, he grabs his satellite phone and dials your number.

You're just shuffling into his bedroom in your warm robe and slippers when your cell phone rings in the charger. Rushing to grab it, you answer in a playful chime, "How's that Caribbean night air treating you?"

"I'm sweating my balls off," Javi rasps laconically, and you giggle impishly as you sit on the bed. "Literally sitting in front of the air-conditioner's vent to try and not melt."

"Oof, that means tomorrow's likely to be humid," you tell him and idly kick your legs in a silly rhythm. He grunts peevishly, so you chuckle, "I thought you were made for heat, remember?"

"This is muggy hell, burlona," he drawls, but you can hear his smile. "Anyway…I'm sorry about today. But we finally heard Jurado say something that gave us a lead, and it was just fast and furious to align an operation and get here—"

"It's fine, Javi. I know how important it is. Just catch him and come back so we can do all the naughty things we talked about," you silkily murmur as you lie back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

His enticed groan has excitement fluttering in your core. "I will, preciosa. So…what're you wearing?" he purrs in that lower octave that has you shivering.

"Well, right now? My robe," you chirp simply as you sit up and add, "I haven't had a chance to lotion up, so nothing else underneath yet…"

"Fuck. You just had to put that mental image in my head, didn't you," he rumbles hotly, and you give him a silly hum in response, so he sighs, "All naked and smooth in your bed—"

"Oh, I'm actually in your bed," you remark offhandedly before hopping off to pace towards the closet as you muse, "It was closer, and I promised to peruse your wardrobe for you—"

As you're telling him and looking through his hung up clothes, Javi can't help but sit on his bed and smile at the idea that you went to his place – that you feel comfortable enough to stay there even when he's out of town. It makes him happy – lifts his spirits. Tossing his towel aside so he can settle more comfortably on the bed, he listens to you describe a particular dress shirt you're suggesting for him to wear.

"—Ah, I think it'll look nice with this dark charcoal suit," you're telling him as you hold out the black dress shirt and tuck it behind the lapel of the charcoal-colored suit jacket, admiring the contrast. "Hopefully you'll be back by then," you find yourself saying out loud as you keep pulling items to complete the ensemble together, cell phone propped strategically at your ear by your shoulder. The pleasant chatter is nice, and Javi's grunts sound relaxed and content.

You decided not to tell him about what Stechner had said. It didn't seem like something you should bring up with everything going on today, and you don't want to add any stress to Javier when he's got to keep his focus on catching Franklin Jurado. It also might have something to do with wanting him to mention the supposed flirt session with who you're guessing was Jurado's wife, and feeling it should be something he discloses—

"I'm confident we'll get him in custody tomorrow. The unknown is how long it'll take to process and finalize his cooperation agreement when we get to Miami," Javier is telling you, pulling you back from your absent styling. You're hanging the outfit you've picked out for him on the top of the closet door when he asks, "Oh, how did your meeting with Crosby go?"

"It was interesting," you find yourself remarking as you go now to the fridge and decide to snack on some of the fruit. You'd nibbled on appetizers at the bar, so you're not very hungry, and want the distraction of making yourself a treat as you continue, "He said the funding is being fast-tracked, so it'll be in next week." He hums, and you can tell he's getting sleepy, so you smile and purr, "You cooled down finally?"

"Mmhmm," he mumbles over the line. "Sorry, baby. Fucking exhausted…going to the police station first thing to coordinate things."

"It's fine, chulito," you say and smirk when he grunts at the nickname in half-asleep umbrage. "Good luck tomorrow, and…stay in touch, or else I'm going to punish you," is your alluring command.

Javi stirs and smiles broadly at the tone of your voice. "I'll call you tomorrow, querida. Promise…but I might be into getting punished anyway when I get back," he tells you in a husky purr and stretches out more comfortably before he murmurs, "I love you."

"Love you too, Javi. Goodnight."

He places his satellite phone to charge and then rolls over, lulled to sleep by the oscillating hum of the air-conditioning unit. While he's seguing into a deep slumber, you're chewing on the last piece of fruit and washing the dishes in the sink before shutting the lights out, shedding your robe to lotion your skin, and getting in pajamas before crawling into his bed, alone.

You can't help worry about Javi as you doze off to sleep, and even when you wake up, you lie in bed, cuddling his pillow to take in his scent as you fret over the possibilities that this will finally be the end of the cartel. What would happen once Jurado testifies? Would all the dominos fall in place? Is everything going to get better or worse for Javi?

Would you two finally be able to plan your life together beyond who's staying over at whose?

Annoyed with yourself, you get out of bed, make it, and start getting ready for your day. Once you're locking up the apartment and heading down to the parking garage to go to the market for some fresh ingredients before heading to your place to start the lasagna prep, Javi is checking in with Crosby.

He's just set out to trail Jurado once he'd coordinated a plan with the head of the Willemstad police, and while he's aggravated by the allowances he needs to make in not grabbing Jurado outside of a bank, he assures the ambassador that he doesn't anticipate any issues in capturing the man.

"Good, because I got everyone waiting in Miami on confirmation of the capture so they can start the proceedings. Keep me posted, Peña."

Javier ends the call and sits back in his seat in the car, watching the front of the bank they'd seen Franklin go into. He allows himself a cigarette, having skipped breakfast and feeling his gut start to roil from the anxiety. The two officers sitting up front are mumbling in Papiamento to each other, so he'd decidedly on the oust as he stares out the window behind his Aviator shades. It's hot as sin out, and even in his light cotton faded salmon-colored short-sleeved button up, Javier is sweating. He can't blame it completely on the heat, though.

When he spots Jurado walk out of the bank and waits for his chauffer to pull up, Javi taps at the back of the driver's headrest and tells him to follow him, but lag back so it isn't obvious. The man in the passenger's seat radios his commander and lets him know they're in pursuit. Tossing his cigarette out the window, Javier rolls it up as they start to tail the silver car towards the restaurant district of the city.

While he starts preparing for the possible confrontation, you're merrily popping the two lasagna trays into the oven. You're free now to catch up on chores, and once you've started on the laundry, you decide to call your grandmother and check in. She fills you in on all the latest, and starts in about needing you to take time off so you can help her shop and prep for your cousin's wedding as well as the actual event. You promise to carve out a few days so she and you can go shopping for the reception. Once she rushes off the phone, you snicker and continue with your to-do list.

Aside from being in decent spirits even though you're worried about Javi, you're relieved to be able to go tampon-free once you'd found you're no longer bleeding or even spotting. His dick really was the ultimate period reliever, you think crassly to yourself before chuckling as you water your plants before tidying up the kitchen.

You've just finished folding your laundry – dutifully setting Javi's shirts aside for ironing – when scratches at your balcony doors are followed by a yowl. "Hah, well then, come in, missy," you open one of the doors to the black cat who meows a bunch at you, as if recriminating you for not being around the last few days. You pet her before breaking out the tuna and plating it. The phone rings as you just placed her food and water down for her, so you hurry to answer the call.

"Well, don't you sound spry! I thought there'd be a chance you were still in bed, ketsele," Sasha's velvety drawl earns a snicker from you.

"The days of sleeping in until noon have long been over," you jibe. "You make it in ok? How do you like Colombia so far?"

"It's very nice. I was a bit jetlagged, so I haven't seen much, but I'll be at the museum today and tomorrow to supervise the installation. You're still able to come on Monday?" he asks, and for some reason, you can picture him pacing, and toying with his earlobe – all his nervous tells you'd catalogued after years of friendship. Maybe it's the musing tone in his voice?

"Yes! I'm so excited to see you and get a look at what's so top secret," you assure warmly. "It's still alright to bring all the people on my list?"

"Of course. They're already on the VIP list," there's a pause. "So, which one is your date?" he rasps, tone hitting a huskier note as be purrs, "I'm guessing it's the one with the gallant-sounding name. What was it? Javier Pena?"

"Peña," you correct, pursing your lips at his teasing grunt. Sitting on your couch and staring at the cat as she lounges like the Sphinx, you add, "And yes, he's my date. Although, he might not be able to make it—"

"Not so gallant then after all…" you hear him disparage under his breath.

"He's currently out of town, and might not be back in time, bub," you answer aloofly, which always gets Sasha's attention. "So? You going to give me a hint as to the theme of this collection?"

"Ah, I want to see your reaction, so no, you'll just have to be surprised, darling," he husks in a deep chuckle. "I have to run. The car is here. I can't wait to see you, krasivaya," Sasha purrs.

"Looking forward to it, velvel," you chime, and grin when Sasha scoffs haughtily at your nickname for him, reserved for times you truly want to bug him. You still remember the time you'd asked his sister, 'What's wolf in Yiddish?' only to turn around and purr into Sasha's ear while on the way to a night out clubbing, 'My blue-eyed velvel…'

"If your date is a no-show, I'm going to get you back for that, ketsele," he growls, and you just laugh irreverently, so he grouses, "I mean it!"

"Go to your car already!" you order playfully. "Goodbye."

He gives you one parting growl before hanging up, and you just chuckle to yourself as you go back to your chores.

As you're currently checking on the lasagnas in the oven, Javi is walking up to the restaurant he'd seen Jurado go into. The Willemstad police commander pulled up in his own patrol unit and joined him at the curb before silently communicating he'd go in first. They both strolled in, and the moment Javi loped towards the bar and then looked at the dining room to his right, he locked eyes with Franklin – and the bastard booked it.

Giving chase, he sprinted through the kitchen and out to the callejón at the back of the block. The fucker was an agile and fast runner, even in the blazer and dress shoes, making a quick sprint around the corner and up into a building with Javi and the other officers right on his heels. By the time Javi gets to the top of the stairs, he's worried Jurado gave them the slip, so he orders the officers to check the back while he dips into the next room. But his sixth sense has him rushing back and running to the balcony to spot Franklin exiting and rushing down the street.

"Fuck!" Javi snarls as he bounds over the balcony's railing and maneuvers his frame down enough before he lets go to drop hastily down to the sidewalk below before continuing his ambling sprint after the Cali moneyman. Even with the head start, he manages to gain on him once Franklin ditched his jacket and tried to mingle into the crowded, tourist-laden plaza. But Javi spots him when Franklin is spiraling in the middle of the crowded promenade when he sees the patrol units pull up and cut off his escape.

The look in the man's eyes tells Javi he's desperate, so he mutters, "Don't run," as he holds up his weapon, but when Jurado tries to scramble away, Javi shoots four warning shots in the air, which instantly has the man quaking in his leather dress shoes and stopping while the panicked onlookers disperse. Marching gruffly up to him, Javi, in a commanding, albeit winded tone declares he's being extradited for money laundering and racketeering as the officers detain Franklin and put the cuffs on him.

"My wife. You need to make sure—"

"She's in Bogotá. She'll meet us in Miami," Javier cuts in before gesturing to the officers to take him away.

While they put him in the back of a squad car, Javier's adrenaline finally comes down and he realizes he's sweating buckets, so he wipes at his brow and his upper lip as he dials the ambassador's office. He updates Crosby, who assures him everything is in the works and to let him know once Jurado's started talking so he can update the Department of Justice.

"Agent Peña. Good work."

The praise has Javi feeling raw and outside of his skin. He chalks it up to being fucking exhausted, out of shape, and sweating like a damn pig after the chase in the muggiest heat he's dealt with. It sticks with him once he's back in his hotel and splashing water on his face before wringing a damp towel and using it to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck, throat, and chest. Grabbing his duffle and checking out, he rushes out without taking the shower he desperately needs to instead hop into the patrol car that's escorting him to the airport so he can get en route to Miami with Franklin first thing.

While they're loading the man onto the private plane and chaining him to his seat, Javi sneaks off to the side to call you.

"Hey! Are you alright?" you ask, tone teeming with worry.

"Yes, everything's fine. I got him," Javier tells you, idly running his fingers through his hair. "I'm on my way to Miami. Hoping he starts talking as soon as he's processed, that way I can be on the first flight back with the intel."

He hears you sigh in relief. "I'm so glad. Call me and let me know once you're there?"

Looking back when the air marshal signals they're ready for him, he nods at him and starts loping over to the plane's steps. "I will," he says, pausing at the bottom step once the marshal has re-entered the plane in order to purr a covert, "I love you."

"I love you too. Now hurry up and get back," is your charming demand, and he can hear your sultry smile in it, which has his pulse skipping a beat.

So, as he climbs the steps, he laconically drawls, "Yes, boss lady," before saying goodbye.

Standing outside on Ellis and Anita's patio, you let out a cleansing breath and lean against the wrought-iron railing. You'd been in the middle of an animated conversation with your friends over lasagna when your phone rang in your purse and you'd practically sprinted for it and rushed outside for privacy.

When you come back in, Ellis eyes you intently, trying to read if you're upset before he asks, "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, it's all good. Sorry for rushing out like that," you meekly retort before sitting back at the table. "That was so rude of me—"

"Well, make it up to us by passing me more of the sauce?" Anita diverts your self-deprecation and smiles when you grin and hand her the bowl. "So, we were talking about the dress code Monday night?" she redirects back to the previous conversation.

"Ah, just a nice cocktail dress should suffice," you answer before the conversation veers into the plan for you all going together to the art show.

A few hours of good company later, and you and Ellis are sitting at the now-cleared table just chatting idly about the office while Anita made the mistake of going to sit on the couch after all that lasagna. Once she passed out, you both nursed your drinks and talked in hushed tones. He's discussing the latest he'd heard from Devon and Jackie when you remember the interaction with Bill Stechner the night before. Begrudgingly, you decide to fill him in. You don't tell him the contentious backstory between the CIA station chief and the DEA country attaché, but you do tell him how the smarmy man seems to have an axe to grind against Javier.

"I mean, Samson once mentioned something about him derailing things Mil Group had in the works. Shit, I think Benson once made a crack about Stechner being the one behind that story," he pauses and eyes you keenly. "The Miami Herald thing."

You nod, figuring it wouldn't hurt to divulge just a little more to Ellis. "The source? She'd been Javi's criminal informant, and while on the way to record her testimony against the Cali cartel, Stechner had his contact put her on a plane and ship her off to do that hit piece instead," you tell him, tone clinical while your gaze narrows in retroactive anger. "She flipped to be a CIA informant, and since they weren't supposed to be going after the Cali cartel, Stechner had Messina and Javi rotated out," is your elaboration as you swirl your drink idly and stare into the glass. "I'm sure he's going to use Javi as a scapegoat again to obfuscate the shit he's really doing. I just don't know what his play is towards our department."

"Well, I'll ask around. Vet the names he gave you," Ellis remarks and drains his glass of scotch. "Do you think he knows about you two?" he asks and watches you flick your gaze back up at him and ponder something silently.

"…He knows about us. So, he could potentially use that to interfere with us at the embassy," you admit before finishing your drink. "But, oddly, I don't get the feeling that he's going to expose us. I just can't figure out what his angle is towards me…"

"Maybe he just wants to fuck you," Ellis blurts derisively, and you comically grimace at the prospect. "I mean, I know plenty of guys at the embassy that would definitely be bummed at finding out you're with Peña," he can't help snort.

While Ellis keeps razzing you until you haughtily change the subject back to work, Javier is charged up with exhilaration as he briefs the Department of Justice lawyers who've met him at the processing checkpoint.

The flight to Miami had been a contentious one until Jurado had staked his terms: He won't say a word until he sees his wife. Once that's done, Javi will have his witness. So, once they'd landed and were deplaning, he's flippant with Christina. After all, she's calling, all frazzled, and running away from Stoddard and the security detail he'd had sent to her place rather than just fucking cooperating already. As they're taking Franklin and loading him into the back of an SUV, he tells her that he's been arrested. His patience with her has worn out, and he tells her this is it – to get to the embassy immediately and not talk to anyone.

Now, as he's walking the corridors and giving the interrogators the instructions of exactly what he needs them to get out of Jurado, he can't help feel a little guilty about how impatient he was with her. But the moment he turns the corner and sees into the interrogation room, those sentiments evaporate and are replaced by the cold anticipation of defeat that's welling in his gut.

Fucking lawyers, he can't help think before the smug bastard waltzes out of the room and tells him Franklin isn't cooperating. But what feels like the gut punch is the unscrupulous man telling him glibly that his wife 'met with Jurado's employers' and had a change of heart. Rocked, Javi frantically calls the embassy and finds out no one ever arrived under the name Christina Jurado, and when they patch him into Stoddard's line, his deputy gives him the real shitty news:

"—Found a vehicle with a dead female driver, and Christina Jurado's purse was in the front seat, boss. They must've been trailing her this whole time, and the minute Franklin's arrest hit the wires, they moved on her," Stoddard theorizes glumly.

Javier's never felt more demoralized in his life. Not even the switcheroo Stechner pulled on him with Judy Moncado had left him reeling as bad as he is now, standing on the tarmac while they prep the private jet for him back to Bogotá. Vacantly, he stares at his satellite phone before mechanically dialing the number.

You're humming a song to yourself as you iron a dress shirt while watching the variety show on the TV in your living room when your cell phone rings. Smiling, you set the iron down and rush to answer it. "¿Bueno, cómo le va, mi patrón?" you singsong silkily. When you don't hear his amused or enticed grunt in response, you sober and strain your hearing. It sounds like he's outside, but you can't make out where. "Javi?"

"…I'm flying back tonight."

Alarmed, you sit in the chair in front of the coffee table, feeling nervous about his emotionless tone. "What's wrong?" you ask, and when you can feel his tension even over the line thousands of miles away, you decide to press tentatively, "Tell me what happened, mi amor."

There's a foreboding pause that has you trembling with fear of the worst – heart racing and breath catching in your chest when you finally hear him exhale a lonesome sound.

"We fucked up. Jurado was going to cooperate only if we could get his wife out of Colombia and let him see her, but she got taken before my people could secure her," he tells you in a hollow drone, and you cover your mouth to stifle your gasp. "I'd fucking just spoken to her right when we landed! I told her to get to the fucking embassy, and in less than an hour, she got grabbed—"

You're absorbing everything, and the shock is quickly set aside by your tactical, clinical nature kicking in and immediately analyzing all the contingencies and worst-case scenarios. When you hear his tone getting that irascible edge, you cut in, "This isn't your fault, Javier."

"…I have to go."

The sadness that curls in your chest has your bottom lip trembling. "Ok…I love you—"

The dial tone interrupts you, and you listen to it for a beat too long, processing things before you end the call.

Javier's gone on autopilot. It's the only way his mind can stop him from succumbing to the blinding rage that's suffocating him. The wrath helps keep the self-loathing at bay. It also keeps him awake and numb as he sits on the plane – alone – and flies back into the clusterfuck that is his assignment. He helps himself to a double whiskey neat, and stares off into space while his fury roils him. He'd already told Crosby the shit news, and rather than chew his ass out, the man had just icily told him to get the fuck back and start dealing with the shitshow that'd erupted while he'd been babysitting Jurado all day.

It's after midnight by the time he lands, and the drive to his place is filled with the quiet rage of his thoughts. You fucked this up. Why didn't you put her into protective custody?! Have a fucking escort tailing her?! Snarling, he reaches for a cigarette, and by the time he gets to his apartment and parks in the garage, he's in full self-loathing mode. The bitter taste in his mouth only gets worse when he thinks about how badly this whole fuckup has set him back, and with the snarky update Crosby gave him about the assassination attempt in a crowded club during the height of the Feria de Cali, he feels boxed in by all the new obstacles he's now having to surmount.

Dejectedly exiting the car, he stubs the cigarette butt out with the tip of his boot before grabbing his duffle and walking to the elevator. He's making a mental list of all the things he'll need to deal with in the morning while he trudges down the hall towards his apartment door, feeling like shit when he realizes he'd been a callous asshole on the phone with you. Annoyed with himself further, he unlocks the door and enters his place.

He's bemused to find the living room dark, save for the ambient glow of the television sitting on. Adjusting his tired gaze, he realizes there's a form curled up on the couch. Shutting the door and quietly placing his duffle down by the credenza, he lopes closer, and once his eyes have adjusted to the lowlight, he makes you out.

You're asleep, curled up on your side under the throw blanket. Something fragile wriggles in his chest, making him feel afflicted and hopeful at the same time. Before he's able to confront the dueling feelings, he's gone to sit on the edge of the sofa so he can admire your sleeping features. Reaching his fingers to gently brush your hair from your face, Javi gets calmed by the serene softness of your countenance in this state.

Tucking the rogue strands behind your ear is what makes you stir. Groggily you unfurl under the throw and murmur, "Javi?"

"…I didn't expect you…to be here," his halting murmur stirs you fully awake, and you go to sit up. The throw slinks down from your shoulders and reveals you're wearing his favorite nighty – the one with the slit up the thigh. His eyes linger on the delicate fabric clinging to your breasts, which distracts him long enough for you to shift up and throw your arms around him.

Hugging him tight, you bury your face in his neck. "I'll always be here for you," is your murmur, and you feel Javi go slack, so you give him a fortifying squeeze. "You can't just hang up on me and not expect to find me waiting for you in the dark of your apartment," you quip.

Javi lets out an acerbic snort and encircles you, pulling you close. He nuzzles your soft hair and breathes in your enchanting scent. "I'm a fucking asshole," he tells you in a rumbled drone.

Frowning, you pull back and cup his face, staring deep into his loathsomely frowning, dark brown eyes. "You are not," is your counter, and he flicks his gaze away. "Mírame, Javier." When he slowly looks back into your fierce stare, you tell him, "I will not let you wallow in this."

"…You don't have to do anything—" he begins to dismiss as he nudges you back so he can stand.

Literally shoving him back down and straddling his lap to keep him pinned in place, you imperiously glare at him. "I'm not going to let you beat yourself up," you declare in an exacting tone, eyes boring into his with conviction until he surrenders. "You want to vent? Go ahead. But you're not going to swallow up your anger and turn it around on yourself."

Disarmed, he tosses his head back and wrings his hand over his features before pressing it into his eyes with exasperation as he collects his thoughts. You take the moment to catalogue how tense his muscles feel under your touch. His scent teems with briny, dried sweat, the remnants of his overworked deodorant and cologne, the clinging whiff of chain-smoked cigarettes, and the spice of whiskey on his breath.

"…Do you know how fucking maddening it is to get the guy – to have chased him like a fucking old dog running after the meat wagon – only to have a cartel-retained lawyer tell you before your own people that the bargaining chip you had got fucking snatched right out from under you?"

You calmly sit on his lap while he drops his hand moodily to the armrest and glares up at the ceiling.

"…Is that why you have such a ripe tufo on you?"

Javi barks out a laugh and looks at you. "I thought you liked how I smelled?" he drawls as he scratches at his sweat-permeated hair.

"I love how you smell, but right now, you stink," you chime and shrug innocently, trying to lighten the mood. "You chased that fucker in humid heat and stayed in these sweaty things all day?" is your faux-aghast lilt as you tug on his shirt and wrinkle your nose cutely at him.

Javier scowls. "Alright, I get the point," he grumbles and nudges you onto the couch so he can stand. "I had more important things to do than smell good for anyone today—" is his grouchy huff as he stalks over to snatch his duffle bag up and heads with it to the bathroom.

"Ok, so, let me amend something to you," you cut in and adjust to sit up on your knees on the couch so you can glare at his back. "You don't get to beat yourself up, or take your shitty mood out on me, Javier," is your sharp remark when he pauses in the hall.

Ashamed, he nods before rushing into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You frown, feeling that familiar ache in your heart. Your temper flared and got the best of you when you should've just understood how low he feels right now. Lying back down on the sofa, you listen to the hum of the shower running, and before long, you doze off for an unmeasured period of time, before you feel yourself being lifted up off the couch.

Javier carries you in his arms to his bed, still warm and dewy from the shower, so you cuddle into him and mumble, "Sorry…" He pauses at that just as he was going to set you down, so you stir fully awake and curl your arms around him. "I shouldn't have snapped at you—"

Shaking his head, he sets you down on the bed and starts trying to tuck you in. "You didn't," he huffs and goes to move away, but you grab his hand, so he gruffly exhales and sits at the side of the bed. You realize he's only in a towel that's wrapped snugly around his hips. You're still a little drowsy, so you're having a hard time deciphering his mood, but when he squeezes your hand, you sit up and lean into his back, rubbing your palm soothingly along the curve of his shoulder. "I…whenever I've dealt with something like this, I just…" he trails off, brooding thoughts weighing heavy on him. He doesn't have the gall to say that in his lowest moments, he'd drink himself into a stupor, or seek out the company of women he could fuck his anger away with. The shame is like an anchor tied around his neck, and he suddenly bows his head and vacantly rubs his hand over his moustache before blurting, "I just want to take this out of me."

You jolt at that and shift to wrap your arms around him from behind. "Take what out?" you query on a thin whisper.

Javi shakes his head in disgust with himself. "Just forget I said that…" he rasps and shies away from your embrace.

Wounded, you lean away and try not to let the knot forming in your throat break loose the tears you feel welling up there. "I—I'll give you your space then," you whisper and amble to the foot of the bed in order to retrieve some clothes from the drawer.

Your breath catches in your chest when his hand grabs your upper arm and pulls you around to face him before he tugs you close. "Goddammit, I don't—I don't want to be alone…I fucking just—I don't fucking trust myself," he growls in terse frustration, usually soulful eyes fraught with conflicting emotions. "I'm so fucking tired of being angry…"

That strikes such a chord in you that he's taken aback by the fire that flares in your smoldering gaze as you slink up against him and grip your hands at the back of his neck. "Then fucking do something about it, querido," you hiss and nudge your cheek into the side of his jaw in a primal sign of wanting to rile him. His breath hitches, and he stares ambivalently down at you, so you decide to give him another push.

You whip his towel off of his hips and suckle a hard kiss to the top of his left pectoral before murmuring haughtily, "Fuck me already, Javier."

The intensity you see ignite in his dark eyes sends a flutter into your womb, and before you can blink, Javier has whisked you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed before pouncing down on you. Your gasp stutters when he smothers your mouth with his and kisses you like nothing in the world matters. His tongue sweeps into your mouth and claims you with ravenous hunger as his hands possessively clutch you to him – warm skin pressing down on you and the firm press of his cock grinding into your inner thigh.

No words pass between you as he suddenly snatches you up and hikes your nighty off in an impatient yank before he tugs you around to face the foot of the bed while he hitches up flush behind you and suckles wanton kisses into your neck and shoulder. You moan and arch back into him, feeling alight and tingling wildly with anticipation when he sweeps his fingers through your folds and feels how hot and wet you are, how your desire drips slickly over his digits while his thumb grinds against your clit.

"Ah!" you whimper and cling to his arms when he plunges two fingers into you and curves them while he nuzzles you dominantly before nipping at the delicate spot just under your ear. His cock is digging into the plump ridge of your ass while he continues to tease your clit, fill your cunt with his fingers, and suckle greedily down the length of your neck before he fondles his other hand from your waist to squeeze your tit and pluck at your studded nipple.

You gasp and squirm in delight, feeling overloaded by all the pleasurable sensations when he suddenly yanks his fingers out of your clenching cunt and sucks them into his mouth while he shoves you down onto your hands and knees before his hand grips your hip to pivot your pelvis up to align for the spear of his cock. The sound you let out when Javi thrusts into you to the hilt from behind is needy and alluring, which helps rein in his feral concentration.

The sight of you bowing into the bed with your lower back arched up – ass high and right, where he can see his cock getting swallowed by your tight pussy? That primal desperation rakes up in him, a lewd urge he's always tried to keep at bay when he's with you but now feels it overtaking him with a demanding fury.

You're not prepared when his hand latches to your shoulder and yanks you up from the bed while he ferociously tugs your hip back to slam you full-force onto his cock. Gasping, you instinctively reach a hand backwards to cling to the wrist of the hand gripping your hip and setting the pace of his now relentless pounding thrusts while the other grapples for balance on the bed. You whimper when his fingers knead into your hip – feeling like he's imprinting them to the sinew, so you toss your head back on a reedy mewl and catch your reflection in the mirror above his dresser.

You've never seen Javi look so wild. His shoulders are rolled back, chest puffed out – looking intensely broad, with every muscle bunched up as he unfocusedly stares into the back of your head while he grunts and growls with every pounding slam of his cock into you, lips curling back from the brutal force of him trying to take his pleasure by pounding his savage need in you.

The feral fervor etched into his features – that's ticking his jaw and making him bare his teeth after a particularly deep slam of his cock – has you blooming with something primordial and intense. He's never fucked you like this, never been so rough, and rather than scare you, it has you coiling up with a searing desire. So, you suddenly shift your knees for better purchase and rock your hips backwards to meet his next thrust, then the next, and the sounds you've been biting back? You let them out, no matter how heady and obscene they are echoing in the room over the squelching slap of skin-on-skin.

The blown-out, unfocused stare flits away from Javi's ferocious features and he gasps as you dig your fingertips into his wrist and watch him fuck you in the mirror. He follows your gaze and sees the lurid display of you both reveling ardently in each other for the first time, and the hoarse growl he lets out has you clenching and flooding with arousal until your thighs are damp with it.

It's all too much for him to not chase and plummet headfirst into, so he hammers his cock into you and clutches you protectively against him when you cry out, "Javi!" in a drawn out sob and climax all over his apex while he continues to pound your pussy until it clamps down on him. You're deliriously mewling and writhing, mind gone the minute his cock drove into you with such force you would swear he punched up into your womb. So you're unconsciously reacting to him hauling you up to be pressed against him while he groans a fierce sound just as his cock swells and he shouts out his orgasm. You moan at the sensation of Javier filling you with cum after such a fierce coupling, shivering as he prolongs the exhilarating sensations tumbling wildly inside you.

You cling to his hand when it grips your ribcage to pin you in place against him, and moan in satisfaction when the hand gripping your shoulder curls at the side of your head and laces its fingers into your tousled hair there to tilt your face up so he can press his face into you – to dominantly nuzzle your temple, cheekbone and jaw.

He shudders, hips stuttering the remnants of his powerful ecstasy as he exhales a panting grunt and buries his face into your neck while he holds you possessively. You're coming down from the prolonged bliss, sweating and throbbing and feeling the most alive you've ever been. So it's disarming when Javier seems to jolt against you and starts to reel away.

Now in his right frame of mind, Javier is prodded by the sense memory of the last time he'd done this – lost himself in pounding his fury away in the throes of rough sex until he was no longer anything but the angry thing he tried so hard to keep locked down deep in himself. It's like a scalding déjà vu, and he's retreating back from you as anxiety springs up in him. Fuck, no, fuck, what did I do?! Jesus Christ, I never wanted to do this with her—

You don't know why he's suddenly skittish, but you intuitively sense this is something loathsome and harsh he's become tangled up in, so you turn and grab his face. Hands firmly gripping and pinning him in place from shifting away, you're searching his startled expression. You're both panting, still recovering from the animalistic coupling, and even though you are literally a ravished mess, you look deep into Javi's dark brewed eyes and see something you don't expect.

"Don't run away," you whisper and press closer to him, and he shudders. His shoulders droop as the shaky exhale he lets out has his frame trembling with something he's trying to keep control of. "You don't have to hide anything from me," you murmur and pull him close, looping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek while he silently wars with himself, so when you see him squeeze his eyes shut and huff tensely, you susurrate, "I love you, Javi. Please, don't push me away…just let me in."

Javier dissolves at that. Internally crumbles at the profoundly overwhelming tumult warring in him. Falling back to sit on the bed with his knees butterflying askew, he hunches protectively, completely ashamed as he buries his face in his hands and stutters a weary breath. You can't take seeing him like that, so you straddle his lap and wrap your arms around him, hugging him with all your might as you press your nose to his hair and kiss him. His hands move around to grip you desperately to him as he hides his face in your neck.

You hold him for a quiet beat, concentrating on listening to his breathing and feeling his muscles relax the longer you dotingly kiss his head and squeeze and rub his shoulders.

"You don't have to hide your anger from me," you find yourself murmuring softly. "It doesn't scare me. You don't scare me."

He shifts to rest his forehead to your cheek, but doesn't say anything, thoughts racing through the quicksand of his mind.

"And no – that wasn't scary or overwhelming or too rough," you tell him in a quipping tone, and he lets out his breath in a charged huff. "Talk to me, mi amor."

"…I-I never wanted to do that…only did that…" he's haltingly grasping for words, but is utterly ashamed – tongue-tied and wary of voicing the truth.

With a sigh, you turn to kiss his temple. "Only with women like that Gabby and Vanessa – with just working girls," you fill in for him, and when he stirs and leans back to stare in open, unguarded shock, you cup his cheek. "I told you what I would do when I would get so angry that I just couldn't handle ignoring it, right?"

Javier nods. "But that was different," he croaks.

"No, it wasn't," you reply and rest your forehead to his. "I'm not this fragile, delicate thing you can't be raw with. You can vent with me, Javi."

"Is that what we're going to call that?" he blurts before shying his brown puppy eyes away. "…Venting?"

"We can call it 'doing the caveman,' if you want," you jibe, and he actually lets out a startled laugh. "I mean, look at us. We clearly enjoyed it—"

"Jesus, querida," he snickers and covers his nervously beguiled face with his hand. "I was fucking cringing that I went too goddamn far—"

"Have I ever let you do something I didn't like?" you cut in and bossily pull his hand away so he can see your confident smile. "Or not told you when something did not feel good?" When his brows crinkle from him trying to think back, you roll your eyes and deadpan, "Remember 'mamita'? Or when you plowed your cock into me that one time on the kitchen island—"

"Fucking hell, yeah…I remember," he grumbles, a bit exasperated, so you growl and shake him by the shoulders until his sulky pout is replaced by a lopsided smirk. "So you're saying you liked it, and it wasn't just something you went along with for my sake?" he presses, that little furrow in between his brows getting deeper when he adds, "It didn't hurt…at all?"

He has to ask. After all, Gabby had remarked offhandedly once how she would probably have a hard time walking after one particularly rough session.

You kiss his lips and give him a sweet smile. "I mean, it was that exhilarating kind of thing where pain and pleasure are entwined together" you answer honestly and nudge him down to lie back on the rumpled pillows so you can lounge on top of him. "It felt great, babe," is your sultry purr as you caress his hair and smile at his enthralled stare. "I'm kinda annoyed you've been holding back on me, actually—"

"Fuck me," he scoffs sardonically and runs a hand down his face in flustered intrigue.

You giggle and kiss his chin when he dips his head back into the pillow. With a sobering sigh, you keep caressing his hair as you admit, "I would want to feel anything else but the anger. The way that worked the best and didn't involve getting sloshed, or doing really reckless adrenaline-junkie-kind-of-things was to get lost in the feeling of sex," you pause when he exhales worriedly and caresses you protectively. Smiling, you rest your head on his shoulder and continue, "Sometimes it'd be me using a guy…I think that's what happened with Luke – with most of the guys in my past…"

Javier is silent, but he hasn't stopped caressing you, and when you hesitate in continuing, he kisses your temple. "I ever made you that angry?"

"Yes," you admit. "I missed you so much…was so angry that I would never see you again. So I just…I just surrendered to getting lost in any other feeling, would ask him to be rough – to fuck me with abandon. But, he and I…I don't know. I didn't want anything but the distraction, so I don't know what would've happened had he not been reassigned," is your stream of conscious as you nose his neck. "I probably would've pushed him away…"

"Because he didn't really do it for you?" he can't help grumble as he runs a hand over your mussed hair.

"Because I really only wanted to be with you," you declare simply and nuzzle him under the hinge of his jaw.

Absorbing that, Javier can't help feel completely at ease now. He always felt alone and ashamed by his coping mechanisms, by how he went about shaking free from his loathsome fury. But right now, he doesn't feel alone anymore. It's also resonating deeply with him, hearing you confide to him these things you've never shared with anyone. It all has him bowled over. And, the fact that you have opened up so much to him in his lowest moment has anchored him, saved him from the tempest of his anger. So, he sits up and kisses you adoringly.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The weighty murmur gives you pause and makes your heart swell. "Javi…" you hiccup, feeling overcome with emotion as he gazes deeply in your eyes and caresses the back of his knuckles along your cheek. No one has ever said that to you, and the reverent look in his eyes makes you feel filled with vast love. His expression softens as he leans down and kisses you with toe-curling passion. You cling lovingly to him as you both stretch out and cuddle into each other, before you snicker despite yourself. When he looks into your eyes with concern, you meekly mumble, "We're both so sticky."

He laughs, and with a wonderful grin, Javier sits up and literally picks you up to march gallantly to the bathroom. "Quick shower, and no funny business," he drawls, and you try not to melt.

Once you're both warm and dewy, thanks to Javi hastily drying the both of you, he picks you up and carries you to bed. Slipping under the covers with him never felt better, and before you know it, you're fast asleep in his arms. Nuzzling the top of your hair, Javi relishes your comforting smell, as he gets lost in thought about everything that's gone wrong. It's like his work is destined to always get derailed – to constantly be racing to a result before failure inevitably sets in.

Part of him still feels scared that the turmoil will impact things with you. That seeing any more of his dark, furious moments will alienate you from him. The heaviness in his chest when he worries about losing you only subsides when he recalls what you'd told him previously.

"You, Javier Felipe Peña, are the love of my life. I've never been happier, and more hopeful than I feel right now, being with you."

Consoled by the recall, he closes his eyes and dozes off to the hope that he'll be able to live up to making you happier and inspiring more hope to bloom inside you for the future.

Unfortunately, it won't be that simple.

________________

Read Chapter 26: Art

Spanish-English Glossary:

Beyako = Puerto Rican slang for horny/naughty guy; akin to "horn dog"

Querida = Affectionate term for a female, akin to expressing one's want and desire

Pinche cabrón = Fucking asshole

Más macho = More manly; akin to saying "the most manly man"

Mi amor = My love

Pollo = Chicken

Malcriada/malcriado = Brat/spoiled

Cariño = Darling/sweetheart

Mi hermosura, tan tierna y calientita = My beauty, so tender and warm

Deja de tentarme, amado = Stop tempting me, beloved

Mi tiernita = My tender little girl

Guapita = Sassy/foxy/daring/testy lady

Chulo/Chulito = Cute guy; little cutie

Burlón = Joker; teaser

Tan atrevida = So daring [woman]

Traviesa = Naughty/Mischievous girl

Mira quien habla = Look who's talking

Bravita= Tough girl; feisty girl

Buenas noches, chavón = Goodnight, pesterer

Mi patrón = My master/boss

Preciosa = Gorgeous; precious

Tenientes = Lieutenants

Agente = Agent

Gringa = American woman

Hermosa/hermoso = Beautiful (female); beautiful (male)

Burlona = Joker (female)

Callejón = Alleyway

¿Bueno, cómo le va, mi patrón = Well, how's it going, my master?

Mírame, Javier = Look at me, Javier

Tufo = Stink

Thanks for reading! Please consider leaving a comment and sharing your feedback. I would be eternally grateful.

[ackermanshoe]

March comes in like a lion, it's Portrayal of toxic & healthy relationship and how to compares rivamika + Ereh

Que the longest title everr 😌✨

So before I start on the actual analysis, I recently started watching March comes in like a lion instead of doing my assignments and I half way through season 2. For those of you who haven't watched it, it might be a spoilers so beware of that.

In this analysis I'll be comparing the similarities I found between Rei, Hina and Kyoko.

So watching any anime after being do emotionally attached to rivamika it's only natural that I compare them to the characters with even the tiniest bit similarities in their dynamic but Rei and hina's relationship jump in episode 4 of season 2 really caught me off guard and I was like omg?? Rivamika?? How do I make this about them 😩

Anyway so a little background on Rei's relationship with both girls Kyoko and Hina ( Hinata ). Firstly, i subconsciously placed Rei has Mikasa, kyoko has Eren and Hina as Levi, why? You will know on a minute. Rei is a depressed kid who has known only one way of life and that's through shogi games and after his parents death ( cough cough ) he was taken in by a old friend ( I think ) of his dad's who was also obsessed with shogi. Kyoko is the biological daughter of this man who has "adopted" Rei and later on Rei was came to know Hina and her sisters, they were super supportive of him from the start and having lost family members themselves they related to him on a personal level.

So you see why Eren and mikasa's dynamic matches with Rei and Kyoko and not only as "step siblings" it's also the fact that Rei became somewhat obsessed with her through the time he had spent over at their house, it's toxic and it's been showcased that way ever since kyoko was introduced into the series. Rei thought of her when he heard the word "love" and he even admitted to the fact that having her around is toxic and yet he can't push her away. He said he does not want to stop hearing her voice even tho she , herself is in love with a much older man who is married. Everytime she showed up to his bedroom uninvited and slept next to him my mind went "he is in love with her and their relationship is so toxic why does the author keep bringing her into his life?" Or "girl get the fuck away from him".

Without even thinking too much deep into their physical connection I already knew I would be able to related this dynamic to Eren and Mikasa. Although this series gives us much more depth into the main characters views since it's narrated from his own perspective, and the fact that he metaphorically compared his feelings of being lost and sadness helps me as an audience to understand what's happening much much easier than attack on titan. I personally feel like this kind of series are usually short ( idk how long this is) because it feels like the author knows exactly what he is going for, everything is set in stone.

Going back to Rei's ( mikasa's) relationship with kyoko ( Eren ) it's much much clear how toxic it had become for him in more than just one way. And the show isn't denying Rei of his feelings towards Kyoko and it's not even attempting to distant him from her and yet you just knew there had to be someone better right? That's when they introduced Hina and Kyoko in the same episode, meeting each other and a sense of invisible rivalry gushed over them, especially Hina. She is a happy go lucky girl and extremely sensitive to things to the point it kinda annoys me everytime she bursts out crying ( but hey you can't hate a genuinely good character ).

That's where things get interesting for me maybe because I am on that Levi X Mikasa agenda all the time but just like rivamika their relationship has been portrayed as platonic for the longest time in the seaosns. If I didn't go out of way to search up who Rei falls in love with and it didn't say hina's name I probably wouldn't be making this comparison right now because who wants to have their heart broken for the 2nd time in the same fucking month 🙄.

Anyway so in this one episode Hina comes home crying because of bullying issue at school and as she runs off into the dark streets Rei chases her and eventually catching up to her takes her hand and being able to relate to her problems, comparing his younger self to her present Rei reaches out his hand and God fucking damn it he says "you saved my life..I promise I'll stay with you" ofc I'm making this post now you know the real reason 🤡.

The unseen build up that happen between them reminds me of rivamika, the Portrayal of healthy relationship is rivamika. Hina (in our case Levi ) to Rei is the voice of emotion, she speaks out the feelings that Rei has been surpassing all these years inside of him. Just like how we talked about Levi is the voice of reason, while Mikasa has the impulsive urge to act up. Just like how Levi became the perosn who reasonably always took mikasa's side, he gave her personal reasons to take Erens side everytime have an actual meaning towards the scouts / everyone , he then became someone Mikasa was able to object & voice out her opinion towards because she knew that he would response and guide her the right way and finally he became someone she was able to fully trust.

Much like Hina and Rei, when Hina cried out her heart and Rei couldn't help but go back to his past self and imagine Hina coming to him and giving him a hand, being his saviour. It's much like how Levi saw his past self in Mikasa present ( S1 ), Levi gave Mikasa the hand she needed when she didn't know she needed.

Hina despite being much younger than him, was able to make him realise that he too was shutting out his emotions and was able to let himself be free through Hina when she cried, expressing her frustrations and very human like emotions. In the forest of the giant trees when Mikasa and Levi saved Eren for the first time he told her " we got your precious friend, didn't we?" A slight wake up call he had given her for the very first time, an attack on Mikasa's ego and evoking a different emotions within her. Like telling her it's not only about Eren and getting revenge, risking your life so easily, Levi had lost his entire squad in order to protect Eren so now that he is safe they better leave now.

So the question is did Levi and Mikasa save each other?

What can I say that I haven't said already in here about these two?

"you saved my life" Rei says to Hina as he reached out her hand and the beauty of that scene was the fact that it was delicate and soft despite it not being anything romantic. Remind me of that panel of Mikasa touching Levi's shoulder. How ironic is the fact that I'm comparing Hina, a openly emotional character to Levi who is said to be the most emotional inside?

Levi physically saved Mikasa a lot of the time however emotionally Levi saved Mikasa from being selfish and from herself. What if I said and ignoring 139, that Levi was one of of the biggest reasons Mikasa took the initiative and decapitated Eren that day?

Wait why does it feel like I already said it before lol

Through Levi, Mikasa learnt to trust more, learnt that even though they gave difference not only in height, age and in how they treat Eren ( Levi with force and Mikasa with care ), Mikasa still came in terms with Levi and relied on him, shared her burden with him. I think that's the biggest character twist Mikasa had, the fact that she was ready to draw sword at anyone who treated Eren wrong and everyone was scared of her and then came the grumpy shorty who beat her beloved brother right in front of her but eventually he became the biggest form of support she had in the end. I just can not help but laugh at all the unseen development this ship has had and all the implication of Futher interaction after season 3 between them, it's really obvious they had something going on because imagine you don't talk to someone for like 3 years and suddenly when you engage in battle against , paired up with them suddenly you become the strongest duo known to humanity. +?)!#)# make it make sense.

Sooo now you see the that having toxic relationship with a partner is only natural and inevitable but growing from that, opening your eyes to those who actually care there for you is rather healthy. So moral of the story is guys make sure stick with those who tells you to stay with them, the end.

Omg guys this turned out so much longer than I intended, anyway hopefully y'all liked it. I know it's not the strongest comparison or analysis but I feel like I'm running out of words for what I want to say about rivamika it feels like I'm recycling my sentences from previous analysis over and over again because ✨ lack of content ✨ and my inability to think of something new.

Please ignore all my spelling mistakes I have decided to embrace my mistakes instead of fixing them simply because I'm too lazy 😉

💜💜💜

[buckstaposition]

I cling to your lips like gloss (2)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (in case u wanna come say hello on main but no pressure)

rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death, some mentions of sexual situations but nothing explicit, spoilers for season 2 (should probably have tagged ch1 for this too oops)

words: 6607, no regrets

summary: it’s not a date if it’s for work

Author’s note: There is so much research that went into this I would just like to say thank you internet for letting me look up stuff from the comfort of my own home at unholy hours even though I did get very distracted while looking up late 80s wedding dress fashion. Also bless the s2 dvd extra which was a director’s commentary on s2 ep10 and very informative.

—

Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries @fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 

(message me if you want to be added to the list. or just message me in general)

and also I urge you to look at the beautiful moodboard that @huliabitch made for me! I love it so much!

Masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Informant

Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals

"All the best from Mr DEA." Diana said as she threw herself down in the seat across from her best friend. Gabriela looked effortlessly glamourous as usual, even though she was just in a blouse and jeans. She just had that air about her, like one of the vintage movie stars, something Diana had never quite been able to match. She was well aware she was downright frumpy in comparison, not one to catch eyes just by walking past. For the most part, that suited her. Gabi tried to seem nonchalant about the greeting.

"Oh?" She sipped gingerly from her drink and put her menu away. "You finally met, then? He's back?"

Diana nodded and stowed away her purse and cardigan. "Yeah, this afternoon and yesterday, in the morning. He seems... nice enough? I don't know. Not a talker, is he? He seems a bit on edge, to be honest. Though I suppose that's to be expected." But despite everything, he still has kindness in his eyes.

Gabi just grinned at her for a long moment, waiting to pounce.

"Yeah, he can be a bit of a grump. ...Handsome though, no?"

Diana sighed, swatting at the other woman with her own menu. "Did it ever occur to you that the newly divorced woman might have had her fill of men for the time being?"

"It has occcurred to me that five years of unchanging, uninspired missionary for half an hour exactly, twice a week, with that wet blanket you married might have left you with the need to really be filled by a man for once."

"Gabriela!" she gasped, choking on thin air and mortification, even though their conversations would often get way more explicit than this. Just never with her being the subject. Gabriela just smiles like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, hailing a waiter to give him their order.

"Speaking of newly divorced: has the dipshit finally signed the papers then?" Diana groaned, throwing her glasses down onto the table to massage her temples.

"No, he's dragging his feet. Which is ridiculous, it's not like I want anything from him. It's not like we're fighting tooth and nail over every other thing, like that American movie, the one we watched on your mom's old VHS player, you know? With Meryl Streep? In any case, now he decides to fight? If you can call that fighting."

"Kramer vs Kramer." Gabi remarked sagely. "Yeah... At least you don't have children together. That could really have gone ugly. I still don't know what you ever saw in that man."

"Oh shut it. I used to be fond of Juan Mateo; I don't know when that changed." Diana huffed, quickly snatching up her glasses when the waiter sailed over with their drinks and appetizer.

"Well that's the problem, you never loved him! And your parents set too good an example; what could ever live up to that?" She took a generous drag from her drink, then dug into the food with hungry abandon. "At least you're finally rid of his snoring. And his mother."

"God, she really hated me. Couldn't bear it that her precious boy brought some lowly scum from the comunas into her pristine middle class home. Marrying me might have just been the only demonstration of free will that man has ever managed." Diana allowed herself to seethe a bit at the memory, taking it out on her food as she stabbed at it roughly. "And I will definitely not miss the snoring."

"Mr DEA barely snores." Gabriela remarked lightly. "Just ...very softly. It's quite cute."

"Since when do you let clients stay to actually sleep?" Diana inquired around a mouthful, brows scrunched. Gabriela hummed thoughtfully, swiping some sauce off her plate with a piece of bread.

"Ah, but he was so tired, poor thing. It wouldn't have been safe to send him back out, he would have crashed his car and died in a ditch somewhere, which would have been a real shame. I just let him nap for an hour or so that one time. Besides, I wasn't in any state to do much myself after he blew my back out." She had a way of being so nonchalant about these things that Diana supposed came from a sort of professional equanimity. Diana possessed no such poise and gawked openly, the wheels turning in her head as she recalled previous conversations and connected dots.

"Oh." She breathed as realization hit. "Oh! No! That was him? You're kidding me. How am supposed to look him in the eye now?" Gabi was already cackling, barely able to hold her laughter as Diana sputtered, recalling the very detailed recounting she'd received after the night in question. "You said you felt that for days after!"

"I did, but it was worth it." Gabi was now subtly holding her sides, having pushed her empty plate away to be collected. "You see, you're my dearest and oldest friend and I only want the best for you."

"I'm sure Mr DEA would be delighted to know of your crude attempts to pimp him out." Diana snarked, pushing her own plate to the side just in time to be whisked away by the waiter. "You're incorrigible. This is serious. Besides, I think he really liked you, actually."

"He liked the illusion of intimacy, like most of my clients. Lonely but with committment issues to the moon and back. It's not like I'm telling you to marry him. I'm just trying to get you properly laid for once." Gabriela scoffed. She could be so detached sometimes. In fact, one could call it downright cynical. But Diana had known her since they were both in pigtails and could detect the care behind even the most jaded words.

"Oh whatever. I request a change of topic. How's your book coming along? Any progress on that chapter that's been giving you so much trouble?" Diana asked sweetly, making the other woman glare at her over the plates with their main courses as they were being set down. Because yes, Gabriela does indeed write more than letters, and she's good, too. Also, two can play this game of being just slightly mean.

--- --- ---

Javier hated team meetings. And now that he was the boss here he couldn't even get out of them. Worse, he had to lead them. He looked over the assembled agents, glad that he had most of their names down by now. Gladder still that this was a DEA-only event and he wouldn't have to deal with any of Stechner's CIA asswads for now.

"Duffy, where are we on the shipments?" He turned to the other man expectantly. Duffy was one of the few agents here that weren't younger than him; he actually had some experience under his belt, unlike all these fucking greenhorns the higher-ups had sent him. He forced himself to pay attention to Agent Duffy's answer, making notes of important dates as he listened. Operation Cornerstone had, at this point, not yet come to full fruition, but if they continued to put in their due dilligence it was almost certain to turn up something useful. When they'd gone through all the points on his agenda, and after clearing up a few uncertainties, he dismissed the roomful of agents.

"Duffy, got another moment?" Javier stopped the other agent as he turned to leave the conference room.

"Sir?" Duffy sat back down and pulled his writing pad back out.

"Have you come up with any ideas for my informant in Calí?" Javier had mentioned this before, seeing as Duffy was one of the agents permanently stationed at the Calí field office. Now that Escobar was gone it would look suspicious if the head of the DEA in the country trekked up to Medellín every other week, and they needed a better way for Miss Rivas to hand over her collected intel. Duffy cleared his throat and caught the eye of one of his colleagues and waved him over.

"Lopez here has had a few ideas, sir. Tony, tell the boss your ideas for drop-offs."

The other agent was younger, handsome in that pretty way that made girls sigh dreamily, going by his own, admittedly remote, memory of high school and college. Lopez hadn't said much during the meeting, but had that eager glint in his eyes that said he wanted to prove himself. Javier had had that same look when he first came down here; it hadn't survived the first year.

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, so I was thinking the public library might be worth a shot." Agent Lopez pulled a notepad from his own case, squinting down at the scrawled chickenscratch. Javier nodded along, encouraging more than praise. He'd have to run these ideas by Miss Rivas anyway, and if she had concerns they were back at square one. But that was a river he intended to cross when the time came and not a second earlier.

--- --- ---

The satphone was also a good instinct because after their preliminary meetings in April, it gets irritatingly difficult to arrange another one for over a month.

"The what now?"

"The 4th International Poetry Festival. It's on from June 2nd to 8th." she explained patiently. "Orietta Lozano, Gloria Gervitz, Blanca Varela!"

"I assume those are poets."

"Obviously."

"You want me to go to a poetry festival with you?"

"No, I'm taking the week off and I'm going to the festival, and I am also free to meet you. I'm just suggesting that maybe your work hours don't all have to be spent in dreariness and drudgery." Something sizzled on the other end of the line where she was making herself dinner while talking to him, and it made Javier's stomach grumble. "A bit of culture is good for the soul, Agent Peña. You'll burn yourself out with how much you work. When was the last time you ever did anything for fun? Read a book? Hell, listened to music?"

Whenever you call me. She always had music on at home. It drifted through the receiver, a soothing background hum that was too soft to truly make out most times. Add to that the fact that he was still sitting in his office at almost half past seven in the evening, and he didn't have a proper counter-argument.

"Alright, fine. 2nd to 8th, I'll see what I can do."

--- --- ---

She was wearing another belted shirt dress, this one pale yellow and sleeveless, the full skirt reaching to just below the knees. It reminded Javier of the style his mother used to wear when he was little. Saturday, June 4th, had him meet up with Miss Rivas at the Teatro Metropolitano in central Medellín. Her dress contrasted against the blocky red building in a way that tugged familiar, but Javier was trying to train himself to not see blood in every instance of red.

"This is quite a way from Envigado." He announced his approach as soon as he was close enough to not have to shout. She jumped a bit, clearly startled, but her lips pulled into a polite smile when she recognized him.

"Agent Peña." She greeted. "No, cultural grandeur doesn't usually make it out to the comunas." She sat back down on the bench and pulled a flyer from her (rather big) purse, thumbing it pensively. Javier sat beside her, not quite at arms' length. Trying to appear wordlessly inviting, if only to mask how at a loss for words she made him feel. He seemed to be no longer used to normal, civil human interaction.

"Right, there is one reading here at the Metropol that starts in about half an hour that I think you might like. It has a few of the international poets; a few of them will be reading in English. Then there's another one later at the Teatro Carlos Vieco that I'm keen on. It's about half an hour on foot between locations, but there's the open air exhibits that only require a small detour." She pointed it all out on the program as she spoke, Javier silently nodding along in acknowledgement. "I've planned it so there's more than enough time for a lunch break. I hate having to rush through things that are meant to be enjoyed. I brought arepas, but there are usually enough street vendors out and about to get something else, if you prefer." She really did talk a lot. That was surprisingly fine by Javier, since it meant he didn't have to. "Though of course if you'd rather just get your intel and go I understand, but I must insist on at least this first reading, Agent Peña. But otherwise I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you have other things to do."

His lips twitched involuntarily and he held his hand out for the program flyer, silently reading it over. None of the names rung any kind of bell. Not that he was much of a poetry aficionado. "Sounds good to me."

She blinked. "Which part?"

He handed her back the flyer, which she took automatically, still eyeing him with uncertainty.

"All of it." She blinked again, looking mildly shocked, the flyer still dangling uselessly from her fingers. "Miss Rivas, I came all the way here and you went through all this trouble planning. It would be a waste to part ways after so short a time."

Truth be told it sounded ...nice. The thought of spending a day just exploring, letting work be work for even just a day (or at least part of it). Despite being an only child, he'd never liked being on his own even when he was young, cherishing every day spent with school friends or any of his numerous cousins. And it wasn't like he'd had to do far less pleasant things for information.

Her expression morphed from uncertain gaping into a wide, pleased smile that he couldn't help but mirror. Maybe she was quite a nice lady after all.

---

"...I have to ask though: What's a ...smit- ...smee-dereen?"

"Smithereens." Javier corrected gently as they exited the venue after the reading. "It means... it's all the small pieces that are left over when something is destroyed. Like with a bomb."

"Hmm," she hummed, pensive as they strolled along with the leisurely flow of the crowd, "I'll have to think a bit more about this." She fished around in her purse, producing bottled water and offering him one. He took it gratefully, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. "How did you like it, Agent Peña? Already regretting agreeing to this?"

"No." Javier found himself replying perhaps a smidgeon too quickly. "No, it's very uh... enriching." And not what he'd expected at all. Though the festival was now in its fourth year running, he'd never had the chance or the wish, really, to attend it before. He'd barely taken note of its existence, too preoccupied with chasing down leads.

"Hm, you don't have to mollify me, Agent Peña. You'll still get your intel, don't worry." Her expression slipped, from an almost serene smile back into that underlying heaviness that he could identify only now that it had been lifted for a short while.

"Miss Rivas," he said earnestly, "I wouldn't lie to you. I'm just not that good with words. That's why I'm a government agent and not a poet."

That at least made her chuckle a bit. And it was true, too. He felt lighter, in a way, like his mind had been craving a break from the frustrating work of trying to find an in to take down the cartel. Even his shoulders felt less tense here. And it was a beautiful day, too. Warm but not too hot, sunny with a mild breeze. People were out and about around them, festival goers and other citizens alike, mingling freely with a carelessness that would have been unthinkable only a year prior.

"Juan Mateo never wanted to come with me to this." She gestured vaguely at the city and its people around them. "My husband. Ex-husband. Technically still husband because he won't sign the divorce papers." Her features turned tense as she explained, a slight frown appearing between her brows. "Not that it matters now, of course. But goodness, that man had no sense for these things. He thought top shelf coffee was the height of culture. He'd act like going out to a bar one evening every few weeks was a chore beyond compare. Such a martyr!" She huffed and Javier laughed softly, offering to take her bag for a while as she adjusted it on her shoulder for the third time now.

"No, that's alright. It's not heavy. This way." Her hand naturally slipped into the crook of his elbow to steer him down the side of the road and Javier faltered for a moment, cursing himself for wearing a short-sleeved shirt even though it was comfortably warm. He just didn't want to get separated in the bustle of activity, he reasoned. This was a perfectly tame and non-offensive gesture and it would be rude to flinch away, he reasoned. She initiated it, after all. No harm no foul. This was still a professional alliance.

"You think very loudly, Agent Peña." She remarked, lightly squeezing his elbow. "It better not be about work."

"Technically I am at work right now." He countered, covering her hand on his arm with his much larger one and giving it an awkward pat.

"Lucky you." She teased, lightly nudging his side with her elbow.

"Beats paperwork, that's for sure."

They ambled along, weaving through the crowds where they gathered in front of street performers and makeshift stages. Javier couldn't deny that it felt good to feel the sun on his skin, un-recycled air in his lungs; most of all being far away from Stechner and his legion of CIA goons was almost rejuvenating. They fell into a languid rhythm, walking leisurely and stopping every so often to linger a bit where music was being played or more poetry recited, in front of the stalls of local artisans or to look at the sculptures that had been put up as an open air exhibit throughout the city. Every so often, Miss Rivas would tell him some little anecdote, be it about any of the previous festivals or just the city itself. He barely felt the time pass.

By the time they'd made it across the river and to the park wherein the open-air theatre was situated, it was time for a late lunch and Javier felt his stomach start to protest, all that walking serving to work up an appetite.

"...and after school Gabi and I would trek across town to the library and hide by the shelves in the back, the ones with the old classics, and we'd read all the scandalous 19th-century novels about adulteresses and other fallen women. You know, Anna Karenina, Thérèse Raquin, Madame Bovary, Tess of the d'Urbervilles..." Miss Rivas set her bag down and produced a fairly big plastic container from within, setting it on the bench between them. "Perhaps not the most appropriate fare for a couple of fifteen-year-old girls, but it wasn't like we had a whole lot of supervision, you know? It definitely wasn't appropriate to read to a five-year-old, so I guess it's good that Maritza never really paid attention much- Stop my prattling any time, Agent Peña. I know I talk too much; Juan Mateo always used to say so."

Javier paused, an abundantly filled arepa inches from his mouth. "He what now?"

She flushed, looking down and picking at the wrapping paper she'd bundled the food up in. "It's fine, it's not a big deal, really."

"It's not fine." Javier insisted. Told her to shut up, told his own wife that she talked to much! What an ass. He started tearing into the arepa with a glower. They sat in silence for a while, chewing tensely in this little corner of the park at the foot of Cerro Nutibara, in a spot that was fairly hidden among the greenery while still affording a decent view of the city streets below. Javier didn't even know why it irked him so much. There were worse things out there than insensitive husbands. Ex-husbands at that. Still, he seethed quietly in his righteous wrath.

"Wanna see something funny?" She was already digging through her purse, so he didn't see much sense in replying. She pulled a photo from some deep compartment in her wallet, looking down at it thoughtfully for a moment before passing it to him. In his defence, Javier hadn't meant to laugh. It just came out, snorty and half-aborted.

"Hey, at least I managed to evade the poofy sleeves, okay? My mother was dead set on them. She wanted me to look like the English lady… uh, Princess Diana. I think she might have taken the name as a sign."

"That's a.. that's a lot of satin."  And tulle. Javier pressed out, still suppressing his laughter and barely succeeding. He could have pointed out that the mass of ruffles negated any absence of actual puff sleeves, but thought it better to refrain. And it wasn't like she hadn't looked beautiful as a bride, it was more that in that ruffled satin-and-tulle concoction she looked like an unwilling dress-up doll, despite the tasteful off-the-shoulder cut and flattering waistline. It was just... there were a lot of ruffles. There was a lot of dress, period. Paired with an expression that was better suited to a funeral, the effect was almost morbidly comedic.

"Wait till I show you the cake; we were basically identical." It was the dryness of her tone that set him off. There was no suppressing it now, Javier was bellowing, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. It didn't help that the dress fashion hadn't really strayed very far from the 'bigger and more style' in the years since. All things considered, this was a comparatively simple gown, lacking the mass of sparkly appliqués and abundance of bows and flowers that had been popular in the latter years of the previous decade. It just wasn't a style that suited her personality in any way, at all. Her slender figure was absolutely drowned in the sheer volume of the skirt alone. Hell, it completely overshadowed the already forgettable man standing by her side in the photo. Though 'by her side' was a generous descriptor. There was definitely enough space for the Holy Spirit and then some between the couple.

"My mother spent ages on that damn dress. Her hands looked like pincushions by the time she was done; that's why she wore gloves to the wedding."

"She's a seamstress, right? Your mother?" She'd mentioned it in an offhand comment during one of their previous phone calls.

"She was." Diana confirmed, tucking the picture away again. "Didn't think you'd remember that."

"Of course. I listen to everything you tell me."

Diana chuckled, flushing lightly. "It's not even relevant to the case!"

"I listen to everything you tell me." Javier insisted and started gathering up wrapping paper and such to throw away. A quick look at his watch told him they'd have to get moving soon if they wanted to make it to the theatre on time to get decent seats.

"Right." Diana collected her things to stuff them back into her bag. "So it's a no for ruffles, but what would you have me wear, Agent Peña? What do you think suits me?"

Javier couldn't have told even the most skilled interrogation expert what exactly compelled him to answer, and so readily at that, why he had an opinion at the ready in the first place, or at least that's what he preferred to tell himself.

"I think... something soft and flowy, not a whole lot of embellishments, if any. Clear lines and a light fabric, something you can dance in and be comfortable. Definitely no more satin."

She laughed now, as well, eyes twinkling with what he thought was approval. "You are full of surprises. Should I ever get married again, I'll most certainly engage your services as designer, Agent Peña."

"I'll keep a spot open for you. First consultation is free."

---

How her hand can feel so natural there in the crook of his elbow after hardly a day, he cannot tell. All he knows is that by the time the reading at the open air theatre is done the sun has started to dip in the sky and if this was what his work was like more often he'd perhaps be happier in his workaholic ways. Though they haven't broached the topic of work in hours now, instead ambling half-aimlessly northward towards Conquistadores where he's parked his rental car at the hotel he's staying at. Because it is a long way to Envigado and he insisted on driving her home. Because even though now that Escobar is gone Medellín is much safer, but he's never been one to easily trust a good thing.

It's only when they've crossed the big main street Avenida 33 that Miss Rivas gets quieter. She's obviously  tired following their prolonged outing, but he instantly misses the pleasant hum of her voice, her clever little observations- At the same time, it's a comfortable silence, not one weighed down by expectation. She'd even let down her hair from where it had been up in a ponytail for most of the day, most likely to keep the thick curtain of it away from her neck in the heat and sun.

They're just crossing a smaller square, the edge of it lined with shops, the hole-in-the-wall kind mostly, when she suddenly pulls away with a soft instruction to wait there for just a moment, and he's left to look after her flapping skirt with what is probably not the most dignified expression. Defeated, he sat down on the broad edge of a flowerbed nearby and watched her cross to a food vendor, order, and fish around for her wallet to pay, before turning around again with a plastic cup in each hand. Fresas con crema, he can make out upon her approach, and one corner of his mouth ticks up involuntarily.

"Hungry again?" He teased when she got within earshot, handing him one cup and setting the other down beside him along with her purse.

"There's always space for this in my stomach." She retorted primly. "If you don't want any, all the better."

"Thank you for the generous offer, but no. Thanks for this." He makes a show of cupping the treat protectively, fully knowing he'll have to set it down to unwrap the plastic spoon that came with it. It makes her laugh nonetheless, which imbues him with a strange, fluttery sense of accomplishment.

She's still standing, head thrown back and grinning wide, when her gaze catches on something at the far end of the plaza, and her expression morphs from glee to astonishment to rage so quickly it gives Javier whiplash.

"Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Ripping off her glasses and thrusting them into his hands, she began stalking off.

Two things are fortuitous: one, she had to pass Javier to get to whatever she saw and two, his reflexes are still sharp enough for him to jump up and into her path, even having managed to safely deposit the cup of strawberries and cream.

"Whoa, what the hell is it?"

"I- ...she-" Her voice is strained, her whole body taut like a livewire as she attempts to round him and resume her warpath. On instinct, Javier took a few steps backwards, keeping himself between her and her target. It's only his hands on her shoulders that stall her enough for him to be able to whip his head around and follow her eyeline. That side of the square is empty save for an older lady shuffling along, huffing and puffing and blissfully unaware of the wrathful freight train about to rush her. To say Javier was puzzled would be an understatement.

"What, her? The old woman?"

"That's Hermilda Escobar!" She's shaking so much he has trouble keeping a grip on her. "Look at her! The nerve of that woman to show her face here-" She winds out from under his hands, rounding him with a quick sidestep, and he can only match her speed because his legs are longer.

"Hey!" Javier whisper-shouts to be met with flashing eyes, then repeats it more softly. "Hey. What exactly are you planning to do here, huh?"

"I'm gonna give that self-righteous bitch a piece of my mind is what I'm gonna do!" She retorted, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It's cowing, the single-minded purpose rolling off of her. She's strumming with it, her seething damn near tangible. In her rage, she is ruthless. Javier had no doubt, in that moment, that once let go she might well maul the woman with more than words.

It's instinctive, the way his arm wraps around her. Like the few times he's had to restrain Steve and yet not like that at all. For one Javier doesn't have to go for a near chokehold, though energy-wise her wrath is at least as fierce. So, he wraps one long arm around her waist, hauling her much slighter body against his with a half-turn, her forearms colliding sharply with his chest.

"Easy." He rumbles, his other arm coming up to fold across her shoulders. "Easy. Calm down. Calm down!"

Palms smack against his pectorals and it stings. "Hey!" He tightens his hold around her trembling body, her angry, anguished squirming. Softens his voice. "Hey. Calm down, okay? What're you gonna do, beat up that old woman in the street? Come on, breathe."

The sound that comes out of her is something very closely related to a snarl, and he feels the bite of her nails even through his shirt, but holds fast, continuing to ramble empty phrases with the intent to soothe, or at least distract.

"If you tell me to calm down one more time I will get violent." She promised, hands pushing into his chest in an effort to break his hold. The old woman has almost passed by completely by now, seeming blissfully unaware of the savaging she's escaping. Javier held fast, as tight as he dared, the hand still pinching the pair of glasses between two fingers awkwardly patting at her shoulder while he sways them both, rocking from foot to foot.

By the time Diana has calmed down enough that he feels comfortable loosening his hold, the old woman is long gone from view. He feels her slump in his grip, reflexively tightening his arms again to hold her up.

"Hey," he gentles, lightly nudging the side of her head and thinking, distantly, that all but burying his nose into her soft hair is far too intimate a position for any of this. "Hey, it's alright, I've got you, okay? I've got you."

They're still swaying on the spot, a gentle see-saw motion, and then he felt the hands that had been clenching and unclenching on his chest lose all tension and drop down to the side. She's still shaking, her whole ribcage jumping with the hiccup of suppressed sobs. Somehow, he maneuvers them both around and back the few steps from where their snack and her purse still wait beside the flowerbed.

"Why'd you hand me these, anyway?" It's but a cheap distraction tactic, Javier handed her the glasses back as soon as she sat nevertheless.

"I'm not blind without them." Diana responded tersely, snatching the glasses and cleaning the lenses with the hem of her dress. When she doesn't deign to elaborate, he sighs and stretches from where he'd sat back on his haunches in front of her, resuming his earlier seat and finally unwrapping the spoon. It's a tense silence for a long moment, her aggravation like a pulse around them. Certainly it gives Javier a good bit to think on.

"You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

"Don't condescend to me. You may have been closer to the action, but I've lived here all my life." She ripped open her own packet with a vengeance, digging the spoon into her own portion with such force that the sliced strawberries bleed into the white cream. Javier sighed. Took a moment to order his words before they leave his tongue.

"I just need to know if this," he gestured between her and the edge of the square, "is going to be something that has to be taken into account. I need to know that you're not just in this for revenge. I need to know where you're at mentally. I need to be sure, both for your own safety and the integrity of this operation, that you're not just going to snap one day and try to claw Miguel Rodríguez' eyes out, okay?"

She chews angrily a moment, eyes flashing at him before she stares straight ahead again. The wrath is still rolling off of her in waves, perhaps dipping a bit in its intensity, but far from dulling just yet.

"You want to know my motivations, is that it? Well, let me lay it out for you, Agent Peña: of my entire class, a third never even made it to graduation, for one reason or another. I spent my youth plotting routes around gunfights in the street, with just enough success to still be alive, somehow. My mother was caught in the crossfire of a raid and was afraid to leave the house for years afterwards. My father was on that Avianca flight. My baby cousin Maritza is dead and her baby will grow up without her mother. And throughout it all, I took the coward's way out, moved cities, for university, for work, for marriage, for myself even, and everywhere I went they were, too. The narcos have spun their spider's web across the whole damn country and beyond and sooner or later everyone gets stuck in it. I got stuck in it despite my best efforts, and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of having to flee and turning up in dead ends. Somehow I have landed in this unique position, and I refuse to join them. Is that enough motivation for you, Agent Peña?"

She held his gaze, a challenge in fire, and he wondered how much longer that adrenaline surge would sustain her before she crashed. Wordlessly, he nodded his affirmation.

It's more tense silence after that, thick like stew or the humidity out in the jungle. She doesn't reach for him again as they resume the walk up to his hotel, doesn't casually link their arms like before, choosing instead to fidget with the handles of her bag. He hates it, misses the lightness the day had before. These narcos, they really do poison even the most mundane of things with their long, bloodied shadows. When they get to the hotel's underground garage, she's gone even more quiet, almost deflated. There are no more words exchanged, save for the clipped directions to her aunt's house. At one point, Javier was almost certain she'd dozed off.

---

"Do you ever think you should have been there? When they finally got him?" He'd just parked the car opposite of the house. It's almost completely dark outside by now.

"...Yes." Of course he did. He'd wanted, even needed to. The temporary suspension had not been near as effective a punishment as denying him that. The fruits of his labor, of years spent chasing after shadows and getting himself mired deeper and deeper, until he barely recognized himself when he looked in the mirror. He'd wanted it, sure, but perhaps he hadn't deserved it.

"Why did they send you home?" It's not that Javier is in a particularly obstinate mood, it's just that after the incident earlier, he's reluctant to bring up his own involvement with the cartels of Calí and Medellín, much less Los Pepes, so he gives a non-committal grunt in response. He should have known that wouldn't deter her. "When I first called, Agent Murphy said you had been recalled to the States. I only found out later that that was before they finally got Escobar. Why would a top agent on a case of this magnitude be pulled off and sent back before that?"

"You mean what did I do?" She nodded. There was no getting out of it now. He didn't want to lie to her either. Javier sighed, scratching his thumbnail across his brow. "You're going to look at me differently."

"Perhaps, yes." She took a deep breath, rummaging through her purse and producing a folded up paper. "These are the names of some American banks that I'm very certain help funnel and launder Calí's money. Sorry it's nothing more specific." She placed the paper in his hand, gently closing his fingers over it. "Whatever you tell me, we're in this together, right? We both want to bring them down. I trust you, alright?"

Javier gulped, his fingers tingling under her touch. He pockets the paper to buy time, if only to swallow through his suddenly-too-dry throat. And then he tells her. The dead ends and the crippling bureaucracy, Don Berna, the Castaño brothers and Judy Moncada and Pacho Herrera. His desperate grasping at straws to find a way, any way to throw a wrench in the escalating violence and catch Escobar, how that backfired so spectacurlarly. How he tried to get out, despite knowing that these people do not allow outs. How he'd been played by the fucking CIA because he'd been an idiot falsely believing that the two agencies were operating under even remotely the same objectives. How he'd gone down, almost taking his partner with him, definitely tanking his boss' career. He hasn't spoken to anybody about this in such depth, not even his father. By the end of it, he's exhausted.

"So you're the one Carlos Castaño wanted to feed to the crocodiles."

"What?" He'd expected judgement, even disgust. Certainly not this.

"I overheard Gilberto mentioning it on the phone. I think he must have just learned that you'd be the DEA's man in charge. 'Maybe I should have let you feed that damn DEA agent to the crocodiles after all, Carlos.'  The door wasn't all the way closed, that's how I heard it. I think that was the moment I realized I couldn't wind my way out of this. That either they were going down, or they were going to find out that I was already talking to Agent Murphy and have me... vanished."

"I won't let that happen." Javier promised instinctively, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Crocodiles though? Really?" Not how he thought he'd end, that was for certain.

"Yeah, they're very uh... charming, huh?"

Javier grimaced. "If I never see any of them again, it'll be too soon."

"Knock on wood." Diana replied and unbuckled herself, pushing open the door.

"I'll walk you. It's dark."

"It's only across the street." She protested, and was that the ghost of a smile on her lips? Javier's hands stilled on his own seatbelt.

"You sure?"

"If my aunt catches me coming home with a man I'll never hear the end of it." Diana slipped out of the car, then bent to grab her purse. "Good night, Agent Peña. Until next time."

"Good night, Miss Rivas."

He waited until she was inside, the door securely locked behind her, before starting the drive back.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3

-------------------------

Author’s note cont’d: if you wanna know what I had in mind, approximately, for the wedding gown see here

The International Poetry Festival of Medellín is a real thing, too. They have a youtube channel

[jennibeultimate]

Kinda personal recap Cup of Russia 2020 - Free skate

This is going to be super long 🙈

Men

So actually of the first group I only liked Vladimir Litvintsev. Surely there are lots of things to improve, but I like his elegance and movement. The struggle in the steps and the faces coaches was really funny though 😂. (Imo he was definitely much better performing even with mistakes than Yablokov...)

And two times Notre Dame de Paris in one group...there are a lot of musicals, why always chose the same? While Evgeni Semenenko was much better into the performance than Yablokov...(but someone tell skaters that a costume change doesn't make a good performance)

Andrei Mozalev - the program is weird, but I think he works well with it. The popped 4F was unfortunate, but he recovered really well. He can do better than here, but he is young and he has the abilities to make it far. 😊

Dmitri Aliev - You see he is not a youngster anymore, he has much more presence than the skaters before him. His performance was good, but I think in the 2nd half needs more commitment to moves and music. But overall after the injury and recovery a good effort! He pulled through and made no major mistakes. I was surprised that they actually did downplay him a bit in the TES, rightfully so, but still I thought being European Champ would help here.

Makar Ignatov - where is the emotion for such a piece of music? Not found. (and I wouldn't be sad to not see "Je suis malade" used ever again and no dear commentator the music is emotional, but the skater didn't show much of it...bruh) I mean his jumps are fine. The 4Loop is impressive indeed. But he is extremely slow on the ice and there is not much happening neither with legs nor arms between the elements.

Mikhail Kolyada - I love love love this program! ❤️ He is a league on his own! His skating is of such different quality than the rest! Just really what does need to happen for him to skate clean? He still managed fine TES with the quality, but it wouldn't be enough in a top skaters field, where he belongs to, but with those mistakes it's hard to get in the top. (and I wouldn't say anything about it, if it would only have been today, but this is the problem throughout his career. He is fabulous but never flawless) I am really glad Misha is back! Love him a lot, just skating gods give him more consistency please! 🙏

Petr Gumenik - and another often used musical 😅 (I love POTO just in skating I would gladly like skaters to stop using it for like 10 years 😬) Music choice aside Petr is a wonderful skater with some unique spins and is lovely to watch! And don't get me wrong, it's still a nice program (and costume) and he fought very good.

Moris Kvitelashvili - I think I've never seen him better. (I think this is also not a bad program by Daniil, no weird music cuts, no weird no meaning movements, that is as low my expectations for good are 😅) He could work more with the music for sure, but anyway good effort. And 2nd place for Moris is also good! Congrats!

Congrats to Misha for winning 🥇 🎉🎉🎉 Totally happy with the result!

I really have to say (apart from the first two skaters) there wasn't a lot of mistakes in the performances, really a superb competition for the men! It was really fun watching! 😊

Pairs

Panfilova/Rylov - this program is so beautiful 😍 Throw the single jumps out 😅 then they could be a force for any medal...love this pair!

Boikova/Kozlovskii - this was a phenomenal skate. ❤️ Such a different level of confidence than the rest of the competition. This program suits them so well!

Mishina/Galiamov - I like them a lot. Today they made a mistake, so 2nd place is fine. 😊 Contrary to Boikova/Kozlovskii there free skate is not as good as the short. I don't know how many times today we heard Queen as program or in the background. I like Queen but there are so many musics, why always the same???

It's a bit sad that Tarasova/Morozov and Khodykin/Pavliucheko weren't here, this way the level and ppl on the podium were rather predictable.

Congrats to the medalist! 🎉

Ladies

I just love love love Eva-Lotta Kibus! ❤️ A natural performer (ofc in the first half a bit concentrated on jumps)a breath of fresh air in this Russian field, solid jumps, she smiles, love the dress too, lots lots to admire! 😍

Viktoriia Safonova - She is a good skater no question. But I question the music choice of Bolero being good for her. The program felt super long. Bolero is a difficult music, it's repetitive and while it builds musically it's extremely difficult to maintain the building up through a program with so many elements. The only Bolero program in singles for me that ever worked was by Carolina Kostner. Everyone else just is overpowered by the music.

Sofia Samodurova - Oh Sofia 😔 She was lost somewhere...nothing really worked for her today. And I don't understand her programs this season. (at least it's original 😅) She is a great performer but this music cut and everything about it is weird and if it's not performed well, it's just...well

Alexandra Trusova - she has a new costume and what kind of costume change was that? And sorry to say that, but this was just really bad. I admire her guts, but this is not it, it's no performance, nothing that skating stands for and I am glad she didn't place before Guliakova.

Liza Tuktamysheva - A good performance. I am happy for Liza, for all the fights she had. Not sure I like the program but I mean it's original and suits her. I will never understand her jump layout. Even with 3A her TES isn't as high and that's not solely on GOEs but on BV.

Alena Kostornaia - What a lovely skate!🥰 It's a pretty program, I just think it's not as special as ppl made it sound like. Seems a bit like SLB ran out of special ideas. I was pleasantly surprised she didn't win and also that her PCS were only 73...👀 (is it now because being under Plushenko does not give you same treatment or because panel was stricter? 🤔)

Congrats Liza for winning CoR! You did well! 🎉👏

Overall the ladies were quite underwhelming. I never thought I'd see the day, the Russian men would have better skates than the ladies! 👀

What could have been if Zhenya would have been healthy? Skates like at last CoR would have been enough to win I think 🤔 Anyway she wasn't here, but I missed her.

Just saying it's not like COVID-19 seems to be taken seriously at CoR at all, but I don't think it's a problem only by the organization of this competition but seems to be the general handling of Covid in Russia. Those measures do look very half-heartedly and fake. But I try to look at the bright side of the competition happening: it's skating with lots of talented skaters. Let me enjoy things for the time being, the world is dark anyway atm. (But still it's really damn hard to overlook and the ignorance on the pandemic is mind boggling)

Adding: I am really torn on this topic and now that it's over and I look over my selfish take to just enjoy it in the moment, I really don't know anymore what to think of it, other than I had a much better feeling after SkAm and CoC than I do have here...

Sorry for this being super long, so thanks for reading! 😅 Leave a comment or like if you want to, I would be very happy. Let's talk figure skating!

[lunian]

Hi! It appears to me that when season 1 aired everyone loved Thomas Astruc and now that season 2 is slowly coming and we have many other things ml related, people are getting tired and more irritated by him. what do you think?

What do I think? Weeeell, Im pissed, you know.

Let me show you why I and other people are getting dissapointed of creator of MLB:

1. There was a time even before 1 season had finished when people asked Thomas for more info about characters like surnames (at least, we got about it later), heights, birthdays and maybe something else.

A date of his response is 26 November 2015:

Much later when we finally saw some eps of 2nd season fans asked about it again. Its quite understandable because we found out that Marinette was 13 years old in the first season, but we also had an ep with Alix’ 15th one while they are classmates. It gives food for thoughts, huh?

So Thomas was asked wasnt it some kind of mistake.

Well…….

Everything would be kinda fair, but if a writer doesnt want to mention and show someone’s age, they wont mention it at all, right? So Thomas just confused everyone.

But based on his second response, Adrien can be 16 and Max 13 years old, for example. Why not? Maybe I like this version.

Also its just rude. You dont have to say characters’ zodiac signs, foot size and other details, but its fun for fans having some kind of info like birthdays, people like “celebrate” it and also finding out who were born in the same month/day with them. I dont think, it harms for creator to think this up.

One russian news group about ML asked Thomas even in french about all of it:

“Hello, @Thomas_Astruc. Its Russian fandom. Why you dont asnwer the questions from fans? Including those questions about characters’ age. Character and temper, for example, depend on age, as well as their actions. A whole plot depends on actions. Will we get a serious answer on it?”

“Yeah, you will: its “no”

Sooo, kids, thats how we justify our mistakes in the plot :)

Remember when they said we will get LGBT character(s)? Dont be confused if we wont get it as a result. Even creator forgets what he promises.

2. Secondly, maybe you saw one of the comics which went on sale, if im not mistaken (sorry if i am), in September about LB and CN’s adventures in New-York. Or you could see the best pages from it. I wont even show it. All quality of this comic is another topic to talk about.

Many people were confused and even mad by context.

There was naked Marinette in hella awkward and strange situation (also, I saw enough pages to notice, that she had some clothes on before transformation, but then, uh, she detransforms and she is totally naked?? Sorry, if you do something like that, do it with logic, at least).

Also, some rasist stuff.

Ofc Thomas got questions about it. His answer was that people had to read a full version of comic.

And well:

I read full version tho and its still a full crap :) Also, please, fire this damn artist or kick them to draw better.

3. This thing:

Only animation or only plot, guys, dont complain here.

Also, let me be a big ass, but I still havent seen any great story. But I saw some shitty animation already :) (to compare with first season)

4. The latest thing that happened not really long time ago:

Full convo

Thats everything objective, of course. But still, all these responses and teases from Thomas are getting just annoying and even rude. Some time ago it could be funny and cool like “our Hawkdaddy is such a tease haha”.

Fan’s tweet after this convo. Make your own conclusions.

What is bad when bad characters/bullies are getting love and fans want them redemption arc when they have a right and chance for it? The most of characters here are damn kids, you know.

We dont know much about Lila and her role in future, but hasnt Chloe got enough screen time to be shown just like a too spoiled kid with childhood problems?

And, no, good look is not misleading. Not that I really love how Chloe looks lol, but it doesnt make me think about her worse. Lila is even prettier for me in some way, but for now I dont really like her. So good job here.

Also make people hate teenage character? Cool.If Chloe is a bitch, why she gets a miraculous? Additionally, Astruc said long time ago that akumatized in the past characters cant have a miraculous and be heroes. Alya, Nino and Chloe were akumatized, so..? I dont have any answers.

All of it is just my opinion, I know that people see those situations in different ways and have different points of views. I just think that people like Thomas Astruc should be more careful with their words and be more serious about their projects. Dont justify it like “its just a show for kids”.

Thats all. Thats what I think, anon, You definetely didnt expect so big answer lol, sorry.

[emypony]

Every number, lol

ily lmfao

gdi lina

((now i gotta open my own goddamn tumblr to find it smh))

i’ll do edits throughout bcs i go on other questions and i legit like, answer them and go back and add stuff

1. first anime you ever watched

tbh i can’t freaking remember?? Though it might’ve been something on animax. I don’t count pokemon rly bcs i rarely watched it. I think watched thoroughly…???

Frick. Deltora Quest (??) ((god I just remembered I need to hype that too crap)) but I’ll be proud to say front to back as a really long anime is going to be Inazuma Eleven. God I was so trash for it. Saw a few eps on Disney and decided “i want to see this but without this crappy romanian dub thx”

I can’t remember any other anime I watched but amongst the first ones were: Shugo Chara, Princess Tutu (I NEED TO DRAW THIS AS WELL AUGH LINA WHAT’VE U DONE) uhhhhhhhh, Kaleido Star? Zero no Tsukaima (VERY BAD ANIME TO START WATCHING WHEN UR LIKE 13) and other trash stuff like Oran Highschool Host club, Toradora (I didn’t watch the last ep gg me), Brother’s Conflict (another harem AND I DIDN’T WATCH THE LAST EP EITHER GG OMG) and this is all I can remember great…

EDIT: UNDERRATED ELEMENTAL GELADE LIKE DID ANYBODY EVEN HEAR ABT IT like AAAA

look at me i can’t even do one question without rambling this is gonna be long asf

EDIT:::: Shaman King was the first. Used to air dubbed on some non cartoon channel over here and I got hooked.

2. first anime crush

Shun from Bakugan. I’m trash. (yes this was after I found out that it was originally japanese. I think i wanted to watch the jap dub but i couldn’t find it anywhere and i couldn’t take Dan having Naruto’s voice either thx)

Then i discovered Spectra (aka the Brother of that girl from the 2nd season) and i cried bcs how could I choose

3. favorite anime character

Tsurugi Kyousuke and you know it girl

TSUNA FROM KHR (in his more serious form)

ALSO GOKUDERA ^^^^

4. least favorite anime character

fricc. uHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…(inazuma eleven makes everybody lovable I mean…)

5. list all anime you have ever watched (do non finished one count too thx)

NOTE: The ones with * means I didn’t finish them.

I DID THIS IN QUESTION 1 THANKS BUT LET ME ADD SOME

Mob Psycho 100

Shokugeki no Souma**  (in prcess of watching)

Oban Star Racers

Sword Art Online

SMILE PRECURE - it’s so clichee but I love it

Kaichou wa Maid-Sama

K-ON!*

Fruits Basket!!!

Sukitte Ii na yo

edit: Noucome

Dog Days!* (i can’t even what is this anime)

Kamisama Hajimemashita* (THERE’S LIKE A 2ND/3RD SEASON I NEVER KNEW ABUOT)

//screams

SHAMAN KIIIIIIING

DNANGEL AHHHHHHHHH

Beyblade (newer series tho)*

To Love-Ru* (wasn’t my thing but i saw a bit of it)

more Pretty Cure series which I can’t remember tbh

SUGAR SUGAR RUNE //CRYING

Gugure! Kokkuri-san*

6. popular anime you didn’t like

NOTE: I DIDN’T ACTUALLY WATCH MOST OF THESE BUT THE HYPE OVER THEM JUST KILLED IT FOR ME

Vampire…s-something with Vampire? With the Subaru and stuff. 

EDIT::: DIABOLIK LOVERS

LIKE ONLY 1 GUY WAS CUTE AND HAD REASONABLE REASONS BEHIND HIS AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR, THE REST WERE JUST F*CKED UP PSYCHOS THANKS

Naruto (I mean first seasons are nice and all but like, it becomes confusing)

One Piece, Fairy Tail, YURI ON ICE , HETALIA ((MISS ME WITH THAT SH*T THX)), Death Note, Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul, Clannad, Boku no Hero Academia, Dragon Ball Z (and what have you), Kuroko no Basket, Haikyuu, Free!, Bleach, Inuyasha, YuGiOh (i’ve seen a bit but meh..), Mirai Nikki, 

//inhales Sailor Moon

idk just not for me, though maybe I should give it a chance??

7. anime you are currently watching

I guess Shokugeki no Souma since I’ve yet to finish s3

But I’m still in IEGO hell rn, rewatching it for the lolzies

8. anime character you are most like

Tenma, ofc. 

9. favorite anime child

uHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tenma. ;;w;; he’s so precious and doubts himself and I think he’s great  ahhh 

Konoha. She loves animals and she’s kinda cute ouo

idk if there’s more i am really not recent anime trash sorry

10. favorite anime animal sidekick

Kili who’s Jasmine’s(?) -idk if that was her name in the jap version too- crow

I frkin love crows holy danm

Sasuke is such a cute dog save me

11. anime you didn’t expect to like but did

Inazuma Eleven (I don’t even like soccer) , Princess Tutu (I don’t like ballet and it was old af so I literally put it off for watching Shugo Chara), uhhhh idunno anymore

12. anime that should get more attention from others

PRINCESS TUTU I CAN’T STFU ABOUT THIS

Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

INAZUMA ELEVEN ALSO!!!

13. funniest anime you have watched

the one anime with the guy who had to make decisions or else

Noucome? (wikipedia: short for My Mental Choices are Completely Interfering with my School Romantic Comedy) Yeah that’s the one.

Shokugeki no Souma

14. saddest anime you have ever watched

PRINCESS TUTU (screw me, right?)

15. anime you never get sick of watching

INAZUMA ELEVEN THX

16. 10 best animes you have watched

oH COME ON

Inazuma Eleven

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Princess Tutu

Bakugan

Deltora Quest

Sugar Sugar Rune

Noucome

Shokugeki No Souma

Shaman King

i don’t know another one save me

17. biggest anime crush

TSURUGI KYOUSUKE

18.10 worst anime you have watched

how can I even- 

19. favorite anime ships

kYOUTEN

YuuiChi ( ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ;)))))) furiously winks)

RanMasa

Ibuki x Shindou ((idk the name of this together lmao))

i don’t have anything more tbh x’D

20. least favorite anime ships

ShinKyou (I’m sorry but how?)

Fakir x Rue (Princess tutu. But like y these 2 srsly they hate each other)

21. anime that made you cry, when

Inazuma Eleven, not sure when but it did. I’m p sure it did

UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

fricc. Princess Tutu defs at the end

22. age you started watching anime/person who introduced you to it.

idk how the hecc I found it but i think i was like 11/12?

23. unpopular character you love

YUUICHI

I mean c’mon we only see him a few times like give the poor guy some love

SARU!!!

24. popular character you hate

Fudou

Idk just… :^) not ma’ thing

25. anime you would recommend to someone who hates anime

i can’t?? my anime choices are literally trash

26. manga you have read all the ways through

i…didn’t read mangas xD

((yes you’re free to kill me now :^))

(((TBH THERE IS ONE. And that’s Nana to Kaoru I think..but it’s nsfw sorta but it was nice as well? like you don’t see that often)))

27. anime you plan to watch in the future

uhhhh crap good question. I had some lists somewhere but idk

28. most upsetting moment in anime, why

WHEN KAZEMARU LEFT THE TEAM LIKE AAAAAAAA MY BOY

When Shun from bakugan cut his hair but damn he was still hot

THE CUTE BOY FROM DELTORA QUEST WHO WAS SUCH A CINNAMON BUN TURNED OUT TO BE SOME MONSTER FREAK LIKE HOW DARE YOU

29. anime that deserves another season

PRINCESS TUTU

DELTORA QUEST (THERE WERE 3 BOOKS BUT THEY ONLY MADE ONE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)

OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB

FRUITS BASKET AAAAAAAAH

i can’t think of more

30. one anime conclusion you would change

((SPOILERS))

Princess Tutu: MAKE AHIRU GODDAMN HUMAN SERIOUSLY I WANT TO SEE MY SHIP SAIL AUGHHJKFGBG

I FREAKING HOPE I DIDN’T MISS ANY AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[survivormontenegro]

Jury Rites of Passage

Before we wrap up this season, here’s what the final 4 had to say about our lovely jury.

Ali -  Alex, you were someone who from the cast reveal of this season I was honestly terrified of lowkey. You just give off such a smart, strategic energy that makes you someone who is very daunting to play against, particularly since we didn’t meet till merge and I had just heard stories about your influence from OG Durmitors. While I stand by the necessity of voting you out, in that you held a lot of sway over the tribe, and were seemingly tight with Jones and Mo, I genuinely was so sorry to see how upset you got in the aftermath of your vote. I felt like the move needed to be swift and clean to remove such a threat from the game, but I apologise, a move so brutal and so blindisde-y would’ve been rough to be apart of, and for that I’m really sorry.

Benj - You were one of the first people to make me feel welcome when we swapped together thank u for always being so open to things and ur passion for the game was undeniable.

Caeleb - I can’t tell if Alex is gonna hate me or respect me. Regardless, I had to vote him off because he was too strong of a player. Everyone was just waiting for his command and then running with it, and I didn’t want to play that game. Plus, I didn’t think that Alex was alwaysss being truthful with me and just pulling me along until he was done, so I kinda felt like we had a little showdown. It was either him or me, and while he’s a sweetheart and a really amazing guy, I kinda consider him my TS rival. Love ya. I’m glad we were able to crush butt with our Grandma’s Boys in the premerge.

Tom - oh boy big boy Alex you are a killa of a game player I must say going against you really spooked me because you had a solid group of people but I’m sorry it had to be done :(

Ali -  oh my god. When I saw that THE Jules was cast for this season, I can’t even describe how excited I was to play with you. Playing and working with you was everything I could’ve hoped for and more, you are smart, savvy and just a joy to talk to at all times, and we vibed on SO much this game. While I think your robbery was disgusting, I understand why others did it, your savvyness and strategic mind speak for themselves and you were of course a major threat. It’s been a pleasure to work with you and to be able to call you my friend.

Benj - LEGEND!!! When I saw you on the cast reveal I was actually shaking bc as u already know my friends who played almia with you said u were such a queen and so nice and they weren’t wrong!! It was a pleasure to get to play with you even though it was so short, and it was sad that we never really got to strategize and work together game wise but I enjoyed all of our talks sm!

Caeleb - Jules was always fun to talk to. She was super sweet and very good at figuring out where the majority was gonna be in the votes. I was really surprised that she cursed me because while I did tell her that I was gonna vote with her, I didn’t message her for a couple of hours before tribal so I didn’t think I was even being very believable. Overall tho Jules was sweet, fun, a bundle of astrology knowledge, and threw in a little bit of sass to make things lively and interesting.

Tom - wowee Jules you social butterfly icon. I’m sad you were eliminated and that I literally did not help at all by saving you I was in my inactive stage. I commend you on how bloody open you are about your sexuality and gender I guess you really are something special and this is not just because you’re on the jury I love how passionate you are about astrology and hopefully one day you can make something out of it

Ali -  I love you and stan you unapologetically. We had a bumpy ride this season, and my one regret from this season, was not telling you about the Alex vote. I’m sure you would’ve been down, and it burned a bridge for me with someone I genuinely trusted and had a lot of time for. While I think your blow-up was ill advised, given that me/Tom/Jason were angling to save you, I can’t fault you for distrusting me after the Alex vote. I felt awful voting you out but once you set my game on fire, with the choice being you vs Tom, I had to side with who had my back and I felt would be a consistent ally moving forwards, so kept Tom and voted for you. You were also apart of some of my highlights from this season, like calling to work through JJ’s… JJness or drinking white wine on the tribe call. I know you’ve now hexed me three times, but I’ll take being hexed a fourth time, if it means we can be friends after this.

Benj - I have never met anyone quite like you before in an org and even though we didn’t talk much your presence in the game was so fun from calls to call outs. Icon! My FB org friends stan u

Caeleb - Easily, the person I talked to the least in the merge, Ian included. For some reason, Julia didn’t want to talk game with me ever, even though we would vote the same. Every conversation we had would kinda trail off with her failing to respond. I know she was active in calls, and since I wasn’t I think that made her write me off. I kinda wish things were different and we could’ve had a different demeanor throughout the season. Who knows maybe we could’ve made something actually happen.

Tom - lol

Ali -  MY SON. The Nemo to my Marlin. While we like… never voted together from jury onwards, I am genuinely proud of you this season. We didn’t particularly vibe as players, and I don’t think I ever got the chance to see your strategic mind in action, but you played a great game this season, and I’m super proud of you. You kick-started some of the key debates of the season, like this stupid mountain llama mess, but you also kept the mood light and had a consistent positive impact on the season as a whole.

Benj - (El)MO! You were really nice in the game and we got along well on swapped tribe but didn’t have the best connection at merge so sadly ended up on the opposites sides a lot but I think u played a good game! I loved how happy u were to be here

Caeleb - A hero. I have such a tumultuous relationship now with Grandma’s Boys because I had to vote off Alex first, switch and vote Mo in the revote, and then fail to save Jones in F6. I think they might think I am a little bit scheming and never really was working with them, but honestly, I voted with Mo and Jones post Alex because they both were easily the most fun to talk to in the tribe. Mo was hilarious, a true king, and loyal to a fault. When Benj told me that he was voting Mo, I had a sinking feeling that Mo was gonna leave that day, but I held on hope that Ali would still vote Tom. I’m sorry that didn’t happen Mo.

Tom - this is a shame this one we got along quite well on durmitor then the tribe swap really uhm separated us literally. Two seperate bridges that just never came together unfortunately. Good luck and stay safe on that grindr game u play

Ali -  Okay… of all people this season, we have had the most rollercoaster ride I think possible. Whether you know it or not, from me almost voting you out prejury, to voting you publicly at F10, to us somehow working together moving forwards. While I knew you needed to go around the time you were idoled out, I was genuinely so sad to see you go home, because I think you played one of, if not the strongest game this season. You took my vote for you in your stride, and being on calls with you and our weird fake rivalry was so much fun. We were on the first cast reveal together, and I hope we can be friends after this season is all done.

Benj - omg MITCHHHH I wish you had stuck with my plan otherwise you prob would have stayed LOL. King you were one of my favs from the first tribe and we stuck it out thru the swap and kept working together for basically every vote until you left! It was so fun to play w you. Ps… I was the 2nd vote for you when Jared left LMAO… I ofc never wanted u gone but me and Ali didn’t want Jared blowing up the fact we were allies so had one of us randomly vote with him.

Caeleb - The strongest player in this season imo. Like everyone talks about Ali being the favored to win rn because of his immunity run and his social butterfly nature. Mitch was stronger strategically by far. His moves were calculated and always put him in a better spot than he was in before, while also never putting a target on his back. I had my eye on voting him for awhile, and when Jones wanted to idol him out it was like some ESP type shit. He was so strong, and also funny, this season would not have been what it was without him.

Tom - mmmmm big ol mitchy boi is it toiLET or toilet that’s the true question, an amazing ally friend and strategist who was skeptical of everything but had good intentions thank you for saving my ass in this game multiple times because I wouldn’t be here without you

Ali -  when people google robbery, if your picture is not the top result, i will SCREAM. It says a lot that we literally never voted together during merge, and yet I stanned for you with my whole heart, and would’ve voted for you in the end. You have this raw likability, that makes you the best ever, but also SUCH a threat in these games, and after your iconic idol play, it was incredibly clear that you were the biggest threat and so critically needed to be voted out. You are such a joy, and I hope we can be friends after the season.

Benj - JONES!!!!!!!!!! Omg I was gagged when I saw that you were playing this season I had heard a lot about you but never met you until now and I was sooooo excited when we got swapped together!! Joining your side back then was such a good decision and ty for making it so easy to accept me and I loved talking to u throughout the whole game even if we were basically on diff sides most of merge! You would have wiped the floor against anyone at the end and I know one day u will get ur win! ILY

Caeleb - My true Grandmother. Honestly, I hope that post-game we can rekindle and be harmonious because I TRULY thought that Jones was one of the friendliest, kind, and joyous people. I worked to get people to switch their votes from Jones in F6, but I kinda expected that it wouldn’t happen because even I recognized that no one could beat Jones in a FTC. I felt like Sierra voting off her mother in BvW. It was truly my saddest day in Montenegro BY FAR.

Tom - I’m sorry Tunnel vision really got you good, You played such an amazing game and honestly to get to final 6 the way you did you should be so proud, you were by far the biggest jury threat because everyone absolutely loved your personality including myself. I really hope we can keep talking on the outside and your artistry takes you amazing places

Ali -  I spent 40 days on a tribe with you, and I want to say it was a pleasure throughout. From talking about Big Little Lies to bonding over our warped sleeping patterns, we genuinely really vibed as people. One thing I loved about our relationship, was our ability to be rational and logical, even when we voted against each other, after the Jules and Ian votes particularly. I genuinely had so much respect for you as a player and your attitude after the Ian vote, and it was something I attempted to mirror after the Jules vote. You had to go at F5, because you played a phenomenal game, surviving being one vote from going home at merge, and it was for that reason I had to vote you out, but it’s been a pleasure, all fourty days of it.

Benj - We had the most up and down relation probably of anyone LOL from me voting you 4 times to us working together for the rest, it really was a ride and even tho we weren’t the most connected im so glad u had such a great season to return to after so long !

Caeleb - Omg go get ur Donna Summer record. Jason was probably the person I talked to a bunch but barely talked game with. We were always on differing sides of the vote, and kinda to my own demise for many of those, but as a result we talked about different things like eggs and records and gay stereotypes. It was a bold and profitable move when we talked post-Ian vote and set us both up for success for the rest of merge. Let's talk soon :)

Tom - Ahhhhhhh my closest ally in this game, i am so proud of the way we survived this game. I was really skeptical about working with you on budva but i am so glad i stuck to my gut of working with you and ian. Round 1 of merge we got absolutely blindsided and destroyed and every since then we had to fight so damn hard every single round to survive together. We were arguably the tightest duo in the game, we voted together every single round , 23 votes combined 8 tribal councils we were targeted at yet we made final 5 together. Through the dark times we stayed loyal to each other and got ourselves in such an amazing position in this game by getting with mitch and ali whilst also working caeleb. We truly went from the bottom to the fucking top and as much as i dont think i can pull this one out for us, i will give it my best shot. It was an amazing experience with you through all of our paranoia and stress that people were going to split us apart. Lets hope lightning strikes twice and i can pull out this win for you and ian because you both deserve to be right next to me <3 <3 Luv you mountain llama <3 <3

[serenagaywaterford]

1) Okay, I'm late (bc rl sucks), but I'm back and I'll gradually address everything. "Also do not feel any pressure to respond to my multiple essays! I understand completely!"The same goes to you, bc I feel like I'm bothering you too much. That being said, I truly enjoy talking to you. Not only you offer fresh/perceptive insights into the characters' minds (which made me a. reconsider scenes and motives, b. wanna rewatch S1 --some scenes you're commenting on are SO fuzzy in my head-- mind you,

2) 2) I’m already rereading the book), but you also provide such hilarious, sarcastic lines (some of them are absolute killers).

3) personalities” I know you have an inkling of who’s who. :D But damn, that ‘lesbianing’ bit had me giggling. Kudos, fellow anon. Since we’re on the subject, I have another question about your fic (if you don’t mind): is it post s2 or s1/s2 canon divergent? b) “Add horrid fangirls to that and it’s a big ass no lol.” Ugh. Fandom smh manages to sour my opinion of characters/ships/series I personally like. Especially when fans start pestering the creators to cater to their whims or harass actors

4) or start ship wars. Double ugh. c) “So, that’s the Mass Effect connection!” Two more similarities: i. Mass Effect’s Miranda Lawson got a lot of fandom hate back then (even though she was a famous character), just like Serena. ii. She has a back-and-forth, bickering (hateful but not THAT complex) relationship with another female character. d) “I have seen Westworld! Well, okay, just the first season. I got too tired/confused to get past the 2nd season premiere.” Oh, sorry. I shouldn’t have

5) assumed. Believe me when I say it’s a good thing you stopped watching when you did. The overall quality of the series remained pretty much the same (e.g. acting, cinematography, direction), but, oh boy, some new plot twists (which I usually like) are SO OVER THE TOP in order to impress (?) the audience. It’s reached a point where some characters are unrecognizable, bc they’re servants to the plot. Maeve has a lot bigger arc in S2 and Newton is thriving (imo, S2!Maeve >> S1!Maeve), but so is

6) Strahovski/Serena. :D e) “don’t go around bitching at people who say shitty things or stuff I don’t agree with, or blocking anybody who doesn’t like her."Ah, another thing we have in common. There were times I’ve been blocked by fandom people (with beautiful edits) that I NEVER interacted with (except for maybe reblogging from each other). That’s not me complaining. Like I said, each to their own.I just find this phenomenon funny at times. Story time. Once, an out of nowhere anon (whose msg I

7) didn’t publish, bc drama is SO not my thing) said they’d block me, bc of an uploaded gifset for a canon pairing (which wasn’t to their taste apparently) that was tagged as #[series]edit (although the ship!portmanteau was right there, too, so that people could easily block it). I remember being like: "Okay. Good for you, anon!” LOL. f) “I dunno if you see spoilers but there’s one about them.) She needs therapy so much more than a cutesy feelgood storyline.” I did NOT actually, but feel free to8) enlighten me.

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I am sort of back! (RL does get in the way of incredibly lengthy essays about fictional TV shows!) NO APOLOGIES NECESSARY!! I am just so happy I get to read all these excellent thoughts, analyses, and feelings you have! (and that we clearly share lol, including the sheer amusement of your writing!). I really want to write more at the mo but my hands are doing that weird old lady thing where you can see the veins popping out and it makes me v uncomfortable to look at. Especially since I have little baby hands. I hate it.

Ok, I’m now kneeling on the floor and the computer is on the kitchen island. This is better. I cannot see the top of my hands. 

SO. Where was I? OW. my kneeeessss. This is a bad idea.

I’m so lost. Fic question. right. It’s post-S2. Like… quite post-S2. I didn’t even deal with HOW or WHY June is back in the Waterford’s house tbh cos I can’t be bothered to sort that out. (Thanks, show.) So, it just assumes that for some reason, she’s back. Which, if the BTS pics/video is to be believed, that’s the case anyway. 

Fangirls (and boys ofc) ruin so much for me. Even if I like the same thing initially. Ugh. Then sometimes they’ll annoy me so much that I end up liking the complete opposite of what they like. Dunno why.

No worries about Westworld! It’s a reasonable assumption! Please don’t apologise, my friend. I do agree that Thandie was very good in S1. IIRC, her character was my fav (other than Clementine lol). Yvonne S2 was just next level shit to me. Like, what you’re saying makes me wanna give S2 WW another shot but when shows get overcomplicated, they’re not much fun anymore when I’m like “BUT WHAT IS HAPPENING LOL”. 

>> “There were times I’ve been blocked by fandom people (with beautiful edits) that I NEVER interacted with (except for maybe reblogging from each other)”

EXACT SAME. It was actually in THT fandom most recently lol. Like, I reblogged one of their pretty edits once. Ever. I didn’t even say anything snarky or bitchy or rude in tags. I don’t think I added any commentary at all. Next thing I know? BLOCKED. Never interacted with them in any way whatsoever. (Typical N/J fangirl lol.) It’s the strangest behaviour and it’s that kind of thing that sours me towards sects of fangirls, and sometimes even the characters they like. Maybe that’s just petty but I think it actually just reinforces pre-existing feelings I had towards the character or pairing.) The only blogs I block are ones that are gross, RP, or spam. (RP blogs is a long history of them stealing and spamming and adding awful commentary to my posts way back in the day, so I just… block em. lol.)

>> “they’d block me, bc of an uploaded gifset for a canon pairing (which wasn’t to their taste apparently) that was tagged as #[series]edit (although the ship!portmanteau was right there, too, so that people could easily block it). I remember being like: “Okay. Good for you, anon!” LOL.”

Oh. My… WHAT. There’s a very odd sense of entitlement here that seems so peculiar to me. Like, that’s what the blacklisting feature is for? I’ve put every version of my most despised pairings, characters, etc. and it works? Very rarely does it miss on. I guess we’re just dramaphobic, mature old fandom farts. Like, “Kids, let me sit you down and tell you about this site before you could block things. Before even XKit was invented…” Not to mention every other website ever lol.

HOLY GROSS… I just got up and a centipede fell off me!! WHYYYYYY. THIS IS WHY I DON’T SIT ON THE FLOOR. (we live near the beach/woods so we get lots of bugs no matter how clean we are…) no more painful kneeling for me i guess…

OKAY. Spoilers. It’s not much but other than the June in Martha costume (which was shown in the teaser Superbowl trailer anyway by now)… there were set pics of Emily, Sylvia, Nicole, and Luke all happy and smiling. IIRC. I can’t find the post anymore. So it may not have been in character. But I dunno… it all seems… too easy? Like, I’m glad Emily is safe but omg. She’d better not be all hunky dory “I stabbed a lady and threw her down the stairs, murdered another, and ran a dude over with a stolen car, but now I’m Canada, I’m all healed!” (Not including the heart attack/crotch kicking here cos that was fair play to Emily. She deserved that.) Like, honestly, as much part of me was like YESSSS at all of those, still… that’s grievous bodily harm with intent to kill, flat out murder, and vehicular manslaughter. For Emily to do those things, you don’t do those crimes without being really broken and damaged. And… yeah. That doesn’t magically disappear when you hop over a border.