#the fact that no one really talks about javi’s trauma

[unheavenly]

꒰ა ໒꒱

[snapghoul]

Why Twisters is an amazing movie

Brought to you by snapghoul and their film degree

I really love analyzing films and I need to talk about this movie so badly. Get cozy, grab a nice drink because this is a long one.

Spoilers below

[ Part 2 ]

1) Disaster film - Human vs Nature

Disasters films are one of the most difficult movies to write and shoot because it’s human vs nature and people can only do so much. They are to remind us that we are very fragile, nature very dangerous, and a visual metaphor for the illusion of control. Making a film like this also requires a lot of CGI or a balanced mix of practical effects which in most films today is not as common due to budget.

When looking at films like San Andres (2015) or Day After Tomorrow (2004), both films are more action based. San Andres is written worse to worse before it gets better which is externally common in films like these, the earth quakes that lead to a tsunami and so on. The film also ends with the hopeful “we won” with the American flag and everyone recovering.

What makes Twisters stand out is the presence of the disasters are there but they aren’t what drive the characters solely, the tornadoes themselves are actually a subplot. It’s not tragedy after tragedy, like there’s an ungodly amount of tornadoes at once and people are dying left and right. And when people died it wasn’t graphic, I appreciated that very much that it was only people being swept away and not bloody. The tornadoes themselves only take up about 30 minutes of the 2 hour movie, which is very little compared to other storm films.

The main story is Kate working to overcome her trauma and relearning how to love chasing and being in the field again. They are an obstacle that do end being the “antagonist” towards the end of the film where Kate drives into the EF5 to stop it. Twisters is more written in a way to respect nature, to see the beauty and the power of the earth. Twisters also ends more ambiguous, there is the moment of triumph but it’s very short lived before the resolution of Javi, Kate and Tyler at the airport.

2) Kate’s Character & Relationships

Kate is one of the best written female protagonists I’ve seen in a very long time. Through the film she is struggling to over come a lot of trauma while also trying to juggle her crumbled friendship with Javi and her disconnection with her mother. Her struggles are very real, they weren’t played down or exaggerated, she had realistic response to being in a tornado again after the death of her friends. They also show her reliving that event many times, in the beginning we see a “ghost” of Jeb telling she’s okay, the moment she sees a tornado with Javi up close, she stumbles back and the voices of Jeb as they’re riding out the storm in the pool and how she grabs Tyler’s hand for a second to see if he was still there.

I personally loved that she refused to acknowledge her fear when around others because that is a very human thing, many people do it which makes her very dimensional and relatable. How she didn’t give Ben her last name, how she told Riggs she wasn’t scared. It’s such a real things that it makes me froth at the mouth because it such good writing.

As many people are upset that Kate and Tyler didn’t kiss, I actually agree on why they cut it out, it’s not about their budding romance. In movies there are many different subplots, in Twisters, Kate and Tyler are I would say around subplot C. Which I LOVED, i loved that they didn’t have all her problems fixed by a love interest or how his character downplayed her intelligence. In fact he elevated her character, Tyler is there to remind her the passion and fun of their field, he is also a blank slate with Kate, he has no preconceptions about her or history which allows her to open up and reignite her passion she had before.

And her hair symbolism! How we see it slowly gets more brown and less bright beach blonde that we see in New York.

Kate and Javi’s relationship I would also place at subplot B, Javi trying to get Kate back in the field but doing it in a not so right way. They have some unresolved issues between them regarding the trauma they share and it rears its head multiple times. The line “three of my best friends died while you were trying to land a big fat grant.” Was a real nail in the coffin for them but also it opened Javi’s character development up for the end of the film. Not only that but they and audience known that he agreed to getting the money at the beginning. So them splitting up was good because neither of them could get what they wanted or process anything when they were together. And in the end the come back together when they grow and change.

Also have to mention Kate and her mom, because it’s more growth for Kate, her mom comes in as the mentor character type, she refused to let Kate throw anything away and pushed her and Tyler together because she saw what he was doing.

3) Tyler Owens & The Wranglers

Of course I have to talk about our favorite tornado cowboy. His character is so interesting, he adds so much to each character, like a said above he only lifted Kate up.

But what I loved most about him was the infectious enthusiasm and passion he just oozed about weather. Even with the cocky YouTube personality he was having fun which was a contrast to Javi and Kate who were there on business. He is also very bright, instead of having a self taught chaser he had a degree, he knows what he’s doing and how to be safe while doing stupid stuff. The scenes where we see him showing her science side were some of my favorites, seeing him geek out over the storms and setting up models just showed he’s as much as a nerd and Kate.

His character is also very compassionate as well as the wranglers. We learn they sell merch so they can provide free food and water to survivors, that Tyler and Boone spent a while looking for a dog and that Lilly offered Kate food before she left. We see Tyler put himself in danger for the safety of others many times but not in a hero archetype way, he’s not a hero in any way, he’s a man who deeply cares, understands tragedy and knows how important friends and family are.

4) Music & Sound

Oh my god, the music in the film is phenomenal. Sound makes up a good majority of a movie, without good sound a film can flop. What I loved most about it was a lot of the music was diegetic: taking place in the world and can be heard by the characters. Seen(or heard) Ain’t No Love In Oklahoma playing through the speakers as the wranglers roll up, accompanied by a shot of the loud speakers on the motor home and the audio editing to make it sound like it’s coming from said speakers. (Ghost) Riders in the Sky blasting while they go to shoot fireworks, seeing Tyler whipping the truck through the field very recklessly also sets up that these characters are wild and obnoxious. Boone singing along to Dead End Road while loading flares, it adds another element of fun for them to interact with the music instead of it there so let for aesthetics.

If there was music for the action scenes, it wasn’t overpowering, in fact i barely noticed it until my third watch through.

The soundtrack is also really good, I’m not a huge country fan but my god did I by that OST vinyl so fast.

5) The Trucks

This is an honorable mention, but the red sped up dually ram was a character in its self. Once again showing the rugged and fun loving wranglers when put next to StormPAR’s pristine white trucks which is also a metaphor for Javi that we see it gets dirtier and dirtier as the film progresses and his character changes. But also how the red ram represents Tyler, he’s very safety oriented and the truck is a part of him and protects Kate during the final storm. She puts her trust in it and lets nature run it course instead of fighting it, something Tyler was trying to teach her. Not to run from it but to ride it.

But also Tyler ripping that rig through fields going 75mph is also just so funny to me.

I love symbolism.

I’m gonna stop it here before I write a whole essay about this which I might. But if you haven’t seen this movie I highly recommend it, it’s PG-13 so I suggest being careful watching this with little ones if you have them, the CGI storms can get a little freaky.

(Please let me know if you want more, I will gladly talk more)

[ofstoriesandstardust]

can't take the home out of oklahoma - iii. (k.c.)

a/n: i've been trapped in inspo paralysis because of the heat but i have finally pulled this together! please note that this part does contain descriptions of injuries related to tornadoes/part descriptions of trauma not unlike what we see in the opening scene of the film. the fourth and final part will play really heavily on the top gun aspect of the crossover so i've made sure things wrap up nicely if you're not here for that. as always, comments and reblog are appreciated! :)

i & ii

summary: As you and Kate grow into your relationship, you and Tyler finally talk.

warnings: descriptions of injuries due to tornadoes, past description of trauma, background retellings, hurt/comfort, swearing

word count: 5.6k

“You should be all set.” Dani says, stepping away from you. 

You pump your fists in the air. “Yes!” 

She laughs, smiling. “Go on then.” 

“Thanks Dani!” You shout, taking the stairs fastest than you ever have before, slipping out the front door. You have to stop yourself from flat out running to the barn, too excited to see Kate. 

You see Boone first. He’s screwing something on the drone, probably fiddling with it as Lilly stands in the back of the barn with the rest of group, going over the data they’ve collected over the last few days. 

Boone knocks his elbow with you. You smile. “Good news, I’m free from concussion purgatory.” 

Boone grins, reaching his fist out to bump yours. “Hell yeah baby.”

“I was just coming to talk to Kate, but she looks pretty busy.” 

And also just pretty. 

She’s immersed into the data, standing over the tablet with Javi and Tyler crowded around her. She’s saying something to Lilly and Dexter as they follow her words with rapt attention. 

“I’ll talk to her later.” You muse and Boone nods.  You pause for a minute before taking Boone’s arm. He glances at you as you lean in real close despite the fact that no one will be able to hear you from across the barn. “Hey Booney baby. I took the shot.” You pat his arm, letting go, as his eyes go wide. “Your turn.” 

You laugh all the way back to the house as Boone shouts “Are you fucking shitting me man?” 

-

Kate softly knocks on the door of her bedroom door to alert you of her presence about an hour and a half later. Her head peaks around the door and you glance up at her from your phone, smile growing as you do.

You slide your phone onto her nightstand as she slips into the room, shutting the door gently behind her. 

“Hey.” She says quietly. “Dani says you’re all cleared.” 

You nod, moving to sit upwards on the bed, mindful of the sleeping Enid on your chest. “Free from concussion purgatory. How was the chase?” 

“Two out of three storms collapsed.” She responds, climbing onto the bed next you. “We’re keeping an eye out on a few more — might head back out in the morning if you want to join us? Only if you’re feeling up to it.” Kate’s voice feigns an air of casual nonchalance but you can hear the worry in the undertone of her words. 

You hum. “We’ll see. Only if you’re going.” 

Her smile grows as she reaches over to scratch Enid’s ears, the puppy nuzzling into her touch. “Always happy to have you along.” 

It’s quiet for a minute as the two of you sit there, basking in each other’s presence. The setting sun filters in through Kate’s window, setting a golden glow to the girl’s hair. 

“Look, I-“ Kate breaks off. She shakes her head. “If you want to chalk this up to- just heat of the moment, adrenaline, whatever, I’d understand.”

“Do you want that?” You ask quietly. 

“No.” She admits quietly. “No, no I don’t.” She sighs, quiet for a minute and you let her think, pensive look crossing her face. “No, I- I’ve-“ She breaks off again and you nudge her. 

“Kate?” She glances back up at you and you take her hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. “Whatever you have to say, I want to hear it.” 

She squeezes your hand. “I- I’ve come to the realization that I’m in love with you.” 

The confession should hit you like a ton of bricks, but instead all it does is send a warm soothing feeling through your body. 

Kate loves you. 

You didn’t think you’d ever entertained the possibility that she could love you and you feel alight, giddy almost, with the joy of hearing those words. 

But marveling in her words means you’re quiet for too long and it’s clear Kate begins to panic, ready to take back the confession. “I’m- I’m sorry. I just- After what happened, I realized I was so scared of losing you and I couldn’t miss another opportunity without showing you how I felt. But if you don’t feel that way for me, it’s okay. I can- I will make this be professional, just platonic. You don’t need to leave-“ 

Your eyebrows had been furrowing as she talk and you interrupt her as she goes to tug her fingers away. “Leave? Who said anything about leaving?” You question as you tighten your fingers around hers again. 

She hesitates for a minute before sighing. “I know that you have someone back at home who still cares for you-“ 

“I’m not hung up on him, Kate.” You interrupt. “I’m not still in love with him. Our breakup was messy and sudden as all hell, but I’ve let him go.” 

“He’d take you back in a heartbeat.” She says softly, tightening her fingers around your own as if you might intend to flee as she reminds you of your ex. “He still loves you. I mean, I don’t blame the guy, you’re…” She trails off. “You’re you.” She says in a tone so soft it makes your heart swell. She uses her free hand to wipe at her face. “And I’m just Kate. Kate who gets the people she loves killed.” 

You let go of Kate’s hand, a flash of panic crossing her face, only to disappear when you move to gently pry Enid off of your chest. “Sorry baby.” You whisper as the dog whimpers. “Need both of my hands and my body for this.” 

You loop your fingers in Kate’s belt loops, tugging her closer before your hands find placement on her waist. 

“You’re not just Kate to me. You’re Kate fucking Carter, Kate who tames tornadoes, Kate who has done what nobody else thought possible. The people you love don’t get killed because of you, Kate. They wouldn’t see it that way and neither do I.” You say softly, moving one of your hands to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “And I’m not leaving. This is my family, here with the Wranglers. I’ve- My whole life, I’ve tried to so hard to find a place where I truly belonged and I know no other place is right like it is here. And a huge reason is because of you, Kate.” You croon, hand gently cupping her cheek. “Yeah, I had somebody back home who meant a lot to me at one point in time and I’ll always wish the best for him. But he and I- we weren’t right for each other. Not like this is. And I know I haven’t- haven’t exactly shared all my scars with you and I’m sorry about that-“

“Hey.” She cuts you off gently. “We’ve got time.”

You tuck stray hair behind her ears, taking a second to admire how soft it is as you do before giving her a small smile. “Kate, I’ve been in love with you for so long now and I never even thought or gave myself a chance to believe that you could return my feelings. But I promise you, there is nowhere else in this world I’d want to be than next to you.” 

“You love me?” She whispers, eyes glassy. 

“Kate, I- I don’t know how anyone couldn’t be.” 

She leans in a little bit further, but pauses. “Can I- Can I kiss you?” 

You give the girl a soft smile, squeezing your hands against her. “Kate, you can kiss me whenever you want.” 

The kiss is softer this time, letting you savor it. The last kiss between the two of you had been a rush against time, a need to express your feelings but this, right here, was just for you two. 

Kate’s hands find your cheek, languidly deepening the kiss as she tilts your head. You’re all but practically in her lap, crowding her space in a way you’ve always wanted. 

it’s only when Enid paws at your thigh to you break away, breathing out a laugh at the little dog. You sit back, letting him crawl into your lap as Kate shifts on the bed, sitting so she can tuck your head into the crook of your neck. 

“So, does this like… make you my girlfriend now?” Kate asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“If you want.” You respond, mirroring her own grin. 

“I think I’d like that.” She says with a sigh. You snort, reaching out to pet Enid as she wraps a hand around your side. “Hey, what was Boone yelling about earlier when you stopped by the barn?”

You give her a grin, feeling a bit sheepish. “A few weeks ago, Boone started ragging on me about what was going on between you and I so I started getting on him about him and Javi. He basically said that if I took the shot, he would too. I had told him had to do it first, so I guess he sort of thought he could keep running from it.” You shrug. “And while you kissed me first, I kissed you back and well, you know, told him it was his turn to take the shot.”

Kate giggles as a knock sounds at the door and Kate calls for them to come in. Tyler pushes the door open, stepping into the room. 

“Hey, Dani let us know you’re feeling better.” He says, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

“I am.” You confirm. 

“That’s good.” He says, looking around Kate’s bedroom. Your eyes slide between the pair, discomfort settling in. 

Kate blames me, hell I blame myself. 

You catch Kate’s eye, and nod to Tyler. She sighs and shifts on the bed. “T, I’m sorry for yelling at you. It wasn’t your fault.” 

He shakes his head, taking a step forward to sit on the edge of the bed. “No need to apologize, Kate.” He says with a grin that is all too plastic for your liking. “The blame is all mine.” 

“Would you stop that?” You say sharply and he looks up at you. “It’s like I keep trying to tell you both, nobody is at fault for what happened. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s me. I’m an adult who is in charge of her own actions and the consequences of them. Neither of you made me take care of the truck. I chose too. And I keep telling you I’ve walked away from worse. I’d like it if we could offer ourselves a little forgiveness here.” 

Kate glances at Tyler. “Ty, I really am sorry. It wasn’t right that I yelled at you. I was projecting and looking for someone to blame. It doesn’t excuse it. I am sorry.”

“I know Carter.” He says, crossing his arms. “I was never mad at you, just myself. But if you really are fine-“ He breaks off, looking to you for confirmation. When you nod, the tension in his shoulders loosen. “Then we’re all good.” 

The three of you sit in silence for a minute as you watch the dusk roll in over Kate’s shoulder. 

“So, I gotta ask.” You both turn back to Tyler. “Are the two of you like- dating now?” 

“Maybe.” Kate responds. “Gonna bother you if we are?” 

He shakes his head, grin growing. “Nah, cause I’m sick and tired of both of y’all pinning. Plus, if Sapulpa made the first move, it means StormPar owes me forty bucks.” 

“Hey guys!” Lilly shouts up the stairs. “The doppler is changing! If we want to catch that storm we’ve been watching, we’ve gotta go now!” 

Tyler’s eyes flicker down to the dog in your lap. 

“Does anyone else get the eery sense Enid’s only interested in you when he can sense a storm coming?” 

-

Boone worms his way in between where Javi and Tyler are sitting, beaming at you from the across the fire. Even in the orange glow of the firelight, you can see when Javi’s cheeks redden as Boone indiscreetly places an arm around Javi’s waist, pulling him in. 

You snort as you and Tyler make eye contact, Tyler giving you an exaggerated roll of his eyes. 

“What, you got something you want to say?” Boone asks with a tip of his head before taking a draw of his beer. 

You look down at the girl whose head is your lap as she flips through Lilly’s sketchbook. You brush a hand through Kate’s hair, tugging on a knot as you do. “No.” You hum. “I’m not exactly much better myself.” 

Although the team had never said anything about you and Kate, you knew they knew in the same way they had known about Javi and Boone. The quiet touches (well, in Boone’s case, rather obvious touches), the silent conversations, the way you leaned into each other’s presence. The way Kate sought you out after a storm and the way you always found your way to her room at the end of the night. 

It was simple, here in this life that you had. 

You’d never felt more whole, more complete, than alongside these people who’d become your family. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with all of them, no matter how that time was spent. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Kate asks softly, moving to sit up with her weight pressed into you. You hum, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. 

“Bout how happy I am. How lucky I am to have this.” 

Kate gives you a soft smile, not an ounce insincere. Her eyes glimmer in the firelight as her right arm leans over, wrapping around your shoulders. 

“We’re the lucky ones.” She whispers. “You coming to Oklahoma was one of the best things that’s ever happened to us. To me.”

“I can’t hear what you’re saying but the sap is making me nauseous!” Boone calls from across the fire and Javi nudges Boone, Ty hitting the back of his head. 

“Shove it where the sun don’t shine Booney baby!” You call back, throwing him the bird as you pressed a chaste kiss to Kate’s lips. 

Dani snorts. “I always knew California would fit right in.”

-

“Hi Mrs. Jacobson!” Kate calls, walking up the drive to one of her neighbors houses. The elderly woman waves, beckoning you and the Carters up her front porch. 

The Jacobsons were one of Kate’s neighbors and they were getting ready to move out to Arizona to be closer to their daughter. Unfortunately, a stray kitten had decided that week that their new residence was the Jacobson’s farm. 

Mrs. Jacobson, Ellen she insists you call her, lets you all inside. Cathy had been hesitant about taking on a new pet but Kate had insisted the three of you go see the kitten anyways, just to be sure. 

(When you asked why Kate wanted you to go with, she’d simply given you a confused look and said that you’d be the cat’s mom too.) 

As you suspected she would, Kate begins to fawn over the peachy colored kitten, despite being covered in dirt from outside. Kate scoops the kitten up in her arms, cooing as the cat purrs, nuzzling into her hand. 

“We’ve given the kitten food and some shelter, but we’re just not really equipped for such a little thing and with the move on the horizon, we’d rather know the kitten’s going to a good home.” Ellen explains as you reach a hand out, gently scratching the cat’s head. 

“We could name you Peaches.” You say softly and the cat meows, prompting Kate to giggle. 

“I think Peaches likes that idea, huh baby?” She coos. Kate glances back up at her Mom, eyes pleading. 

Cathy sighs, letting her hands fall to her hips. “I’ve never been able to say no to you, you know that Katie?” 

Kate’s smile grows, jumping lightly on her toes and you chuckle, taking the cat from Kate’s arms so she could hug her Mom. Cathy runs her hands up and down Kate’s back, chuckling as she does. 

“At least you’re actually old enough to help take care of the cat this time around.”

-

“I still can’t believe you didn’t want Enid so badly.” You comment as Kate curls into your side. 

Tyler looks at the dog asleep on his chest. “That town just reminded me so much of where I grew up.” 

You glance up at him. “Yeah?” 

He nods, running a hand down Enid’s back. “When Dani was talking about his owners, it reminded me so much of how I lost my own grandparents. And we never uh, did find their dog afterwards.” 

Kate looks at Tyler. “Ty, I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

He shrugs as Enid nuzzles into his hand. “Such is life.”

You look out at your friends. Dani and Lilly are curled up together in their double camping chair, both passed out. Boone and Javi are huddled together across the fire, in quiet conversation. The blue staffy (Buttons, at Boone’s insistence) you all had picked up from the wreckage of another town is sat at Boone’s feet. Dexter is a few feet away from the fire, looking out through the telescope he’d brought. 

It was the end of the season. The storm you had all chased today had been for you, for your team. There were no cameras, just you and your friends and the sky.

Tomorrow, you all would head back to Sapulpa. 

Tyler had bought a place out by Kate’s sometime before the season so most of the team would settle there. There had been talk of roadtrips, Boone in particular wanting to head out to the intermountain west to find places to rock climb. Dexter was planning to go back to New Orleans for a little while. You supposed Kate and Javi would hunker down, focus on the data from the season and using it to get grants for the next. You knew Tyler had plans to get some relief out to towns hit by the hurricanes predicted to hit coastal towns this fall. Lilly had plans to improve her drones and Dani had been talking about binge watching all the Netflix shows she couldn’t watch during the season. 

And you- you would stay here. With this team and do anything they asked you to. You’d stay on Kate’s farm, with Enid who loved Ty more and Peaches who loved Kate even more, and help Cathy with the cows every morning. You’d help Javi and Kate draw up their grant proposals, help Boone manage the channel in the off-season lull, help Ty build relief plans for the hurricane season that had already been off to a rocky start. 

She didn’t know it, but you’d follow Kate anywhere she asked you to go. 

“Tyler, how come you don’t talk to your brother?” You ask quietly. Kate perks her head up off where it’s resting on your arm, moving to sit up. Javi and Boone both glance up, clearly intrigued by the conversation shift. 

Tyler takes a long draw of his beer. “We finally talking about it California?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I think it’s time we do.” 

“Tyler? I didn’t know you had a brother.” Javi comments. 

He sighs. “My twin. We don’t talk really at all.” He looks over at you. “How’d you know?”

Despite yourself, you snort. “The only difference between you and Jake Seresin is that he chases an adrenaline thrill by flying multimillion dollar jets for the Navy and you get it by shooting fireworks at a tornado. Otherwise, the two of you might as well be carbon copies of each other. The ego, the looks, the Southern charm. It’s all the same. I will say, the last names threw me, started to think maybe I was crazy.” 

Ty shakes his head. “When this started to get big, we had a couple crazies start to try and track down the rest of my family. Showed up in my hometown in Arkansas. Stuff like that. So, I decided to go by my Mom’s maiden name. Legally, I’m still a Seresin, but to the rest of the world and to me, I’ll always be an Owens. How do you even know Jake?” 

You hum. “I was in a pretty serious relationship with this guy named Javy for about a year and a half before I came here.” You say, squeezing Kate’s hand. “Served in the Navy with Jake. Best friends.” Your eyes flicker over to Javi. “That’s the one that you guys saw the voicemail from. The one I was scandalously younger than.” 

Javi straightens up, recognition forming on his face as Boone takes a glance at his partner. “Y’all talked about this before?” Boone asks, curiosity piquing in his voice. 

Javi shrugs. “Just a little. That night, when we got drunk and made cookies. I was sort of picking on her about it.” 

Tyler hums. “Yeah, yeah I think I met Machado a few times while they were back in the Academy. Nice guy.” 

You glance at Kate, who’s listening to your conversation with rapt attention. “Jake’s a real asshole.” You comment, scuffing your shoe against the ground. “I mean, he really-“ 

He really ruined my life, you want to say. 

“I’d agree with you on that one.” Jake mutters. 

“Tyler, what did he do?” Kate asks gently. 

Tyler sighs, stretching out in his chair. “Our parents separated the summer before we started kindergarten. Mom got full custody of me, Dad of Jake. Mom took me and went back to Arkansas to live with her parents. Jake lived in Texas but he spent so much time out there with us, all the holidays and school vacations. Dad apparently was never home much, hired a full-time nanny to watch him during the school year. Jacob Seresin always cared too damn much about his career and it’s a trait he unfortunately passed on to my brother.” 

Tyler sighs again after a minute. “Anyways, Mom died when I was 7. It was sudden - heart failure. Jake never came to the funeral. From then on, my grandparents raised me. Really tried with Jake too. But when I was in college, he was at Top Gun.” 

“For the record - Top Gun is a major competition where the top one percent of the Navy pilots compete for a trophy.” You say quietly to Kate. 

“The hell you know about Top Gun?” Tyler asks. 

You shrug. “Javy was there with Jake. And boy, do they live in their glory days.”

Tyler nods, conceding. “Makes sense. Anyways, towards the end of Top Gun, a tornado hit my town. Neither of my grandparents made it. I left school with three weeks left in the semester to be there for the funeral and sort through the estate stuff. I begged Jake to come but he said Top Gun was too important for his career, that I didn’t understand what sacrifices he’d have to make to be there. I was so angry with him I stopped answering him and eventually Jake stopped calling.” 

“And yet when I called you and told you Jake had given me your number, you still did all this for me?” 

Tyler looks up at you, the sincerity swimming in his face knocking the breath from your lungs. “I’d still do anything in this world for my brother. And if it means helping a scared girl calling me, I’d do it. And you’ve turned out to be one of the best things to happen for this team so I’m grateful I did.” 

“Me too.” Kate says softly and you smile, taking her hand and intertwining your fingers. 

“I third that statement.” Boone follows up and Javi snorts, shaking his head. 

“You ready to tell me how you ended up with my number in the first place?” Tyler asks. 

You sigh, glancing at Kate. “At the start of tornado season, we all went out to Texas for a friend’s joint bachelor/bachelorette trip. Javy and Jake, they’re friends and teammates with the groom and I was a bridesmaid for his fiancée.” You swallow around a lump that’s beginning to form at the thought of finally talking about what happened to you.

“A key point here is that Jake never liked me. He spent our whole relationship telling Javy every reason why he thought we shouldn’t be together and telling me why I’d never be enough for his friend. You know how I’ve always said that towards the end, I was unhappy?” 

The group nods, unsure looks on their faces. You sigh, shifting your hair. “Well, it was sort of this- mob mentality, with his friends right? It didn’t matter how much they liked me individually, when they saw Jake getting on me, they all piled it on. They saw it as fair game. And God, Jake would say the meanest things to me when he thought no one else could hear him and I used to beg Javy to stand up for me, just once. He never did, he wanted me to play nice with his friends. Didn’t want to go against the grain but didn’t want to do what it would take to keep me, you know? It wasn’t like he was a bad boyfriend but- towards the end there, it wasn’t like he was a good one either.”

“Shit kid.” Tyler breathes out, long and slow. “That’s not- that’s not good.” 

You shrug. “I’ve dated worse. You know, he was nice to me and we, we laughed a lot. Wasn’t beating the crap out of me or anything.” 

“Those are terrible standards for a relationship.” Javi says firmly. “Like lower than low. You should never ever let anyone treat you like that. You deserve better than that.” 

You sniffed. “I loved him.” You offer, tears seeping their way through the statement. 

Anger flashes across his face. “If I ever catch him-“ Boone nudges him, forcing him to take a breath and lean back. 

You sigh again. “So anyways, a bunch of the bridesmaids pulled out from the trip right beforehand — didn’t want to be caught dead in Texas. My presence just pissed Jake off to no end, not even acknowledging that this stupid trip ends up coinciding with Jake’s birthday. And of course, Jake wants to go out to this rodeo like two hours from the ranch we’re staying at. The night before, everyone goes out, parties too hard and the next morning the only people ready to leave on time are me, Jake, and this guy named Steven, who was a service member they all knew and owned the ranch with his wife Lainey. So we go to this stupid rodeo, but not before Jake and I spent the two hours fighting. I mean, he really- really let me have it. Kept telling me to have a backbone, to stand up for myself, like these guys weren’t eight, nine, ten years older than me and my boyfriend’s best friends. And by the time we got to the rodeo, I just- god, I knew something was wrong.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until Kate reaches up to brush the tears from your face. “Baby, it’s okay.” She says softly, squeezing your hand. 

“All day, I kept asking Jake if we could leave and he kept saying no and then- and then it hit.” Your voice cracks as you feel yourself begin to slip into the memories. 

The leather of the truck, your outfit covered in blood and dirt, the way Jake had said have a backbone and stand up for yourself as he had hit the steering wheel, the way you had flinched. 

“All day it had been stormy and cloudy, but Jake insisted it was fine, no tornado would hit despite the warnings. He knew Texas tornados, he had said and he insisted that wasn’t it. But of course, that was it. And of course, we were in the farthest possible point from the shelters too. We ended up taking cover, holding onto this storm grate.”

It’s almost like you’re there again, the cold terror and panic like ice in your veins. The rain pounding on you. The screams of the people around you. The wind nearly tipping you over. 

“But before Steven could make it to the storm grate, some debris hit him. It sort of… went through him.” You say as Kate winces at the image you’re sure she sees. Boone cringes and Javi makes a noise in the back of his throat, eyes closing. “The immediate impact didn’t kill him and the whole time we rode out the storm we could hear him screaming out for us a few feet away to help him. By the time the tornado had passed, he was dead.” 

You remember too well the iron grip Jake had on the back of your shirt, the way he’d shielded your body with his. The whispered apologies he’d said as you cried through the storm. The way you had begged for him to help you afterwards as you stared at Steven. 

The unseeing, defeated look in his eye. 

“Jake asked me to lie. To say we had only found Steven afterwards, that we had gotten to shelter in time. I don’t know why I listened to him but I think I was in such shock, I did it. But it- it was all too much. Suddenly, my life didn’t make sense, didn’t feel right. How could I go back to San Diego knowing what I had seen? How could I go back to San Diego when I had watched a good man die? And I just kept wondering - why had it been me? What had the universe seen in this bossy, irritating girl that deserved to live over someone who had a life and a family? I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was what I had seen, about why it was me who was still breathing. All I could think about was the fact that I had agreed to lie and I couldn’t look any of them in the eye, least of all Javy. So, three days after we got back from Texas, I packed my duffle bag, marched on in to Javy’s house and told him we weren’t going to work out and that I was leaving. I didn’t know where I was going — just that what I wanted didn’t make sense anymore. The life I had didn’t fit.” 

Kate’s thumbs on your knuckles reminds you to let out a breath as you reach up to wipe the tears from your chin with the sleeves of her flannel. 

“I tunnel visioned so hard I didn’t even realize all of his roommates were there, including Jake. Jake followed me out of the house, shoved this tiny scrap piece of paper with Tyler’s number on it, and told me that if I ever needed anything to call that number. I wasn’t- I wasn’t going to but I was sitting in the San Diego airport trying to figure out where in the world I was going to go, what I was going to do, and I just- I just wanted to try.”

You pull your hands away from Kate, scrubbing at the tears on your face with your sleeves before looking at her. “That day, when he called me and left that voicemail, I realized- I realized I’ve never made a better decision than I did to come to Oklahoma.” A sob cuts through, voice weakening as you talk. “He says he’s still in love with me but the truth is, he’s still in love with a version of me that doesn’t exist, that will never exist again. That girl died that day at the rodeo and I will never be whole again.” 

Tyler sighs, standing up from his chair as he pulls you into a tight hug. “You are whole, California. You might be a bit rough around the edges but you’re whole and you’re healing. This team’s got you. We ain’t gonna turn our backs on you.” 

Tyler lets you go and you step back, looking at your girlfriend. “Kate?” You croak. 

She gives you a soft albeit concerned smile, pulling you into a hug of your own. “Javi always said we were more similar than we would think. Who knew it would be like this.” She whispers in your ear as you clutch the fabric of her sweatshirt. “You know I love you, yeah?” You nod into her shoulder. “Ty’s right. We got you. You’re safe here.”

“For the record, you heal me too. Your love doesn’t make the memories cut so deep.” 

She pulls back, eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Her hand comes up, brushing her thumb over your cheekbone. “Right back at ya.”

Javi waits until later, when you are all getting ready to turn in for the night, to pull you aside. His hug is long as he tucks his head on top of yours. Part of you thinks it may be more for his benefit than yours but you can’t deny the peace that comes wrapped around him. 

“You know, I know you’re like Owens little sister.” He says, clearing his throat. “But you’re like mine too. And it makes me angry as hell that you went through that shit without people looking out for you in the way they should’ve.” 

“We can’t go back and change the past.” You whisper. 

“We can’t. But I can make it right in the here and now. It’s like Ty said, we got your back. You ever find a time where you need me to knock some Navy guys skulls together, or hell you just need me, I’ll be there. You pick up the phone at three am, you call me ten years from now, I’ll be there.” 

“Ditto.” Boone says over Javi’s shoulder. “Whatever you need.” 

You let go of Javi’s sweatshirt, reaching out to fist bump Boone’s own. He smiles before joining the hug, much to the annoyance of Javi, based on the way he groans. 

“We’re family man. Don’t ever forget that.” Boone says, squeezing the both of you. 

“Don’t know how I ever could.” 

iiii.

[jolapeno]

Hi Jo!

How did you get into writing fanfic?

I’m sorry I’ve sat on this for so long, but I wanted to make sure I answered it with the full attention it deserves. I apologise for the length 😂.

I began this as to how, but then also why? and it got long.

warnings for: jo being overly open, sharing things she doesn’t usually, mentions of mental health, mention but not discussion of sexual trauma poor sleep, and again, oversharing. I don’t think I’ve been this open ever, so be gentle with me.

so, I began writing fanfic in 2015. I discovered it on accident, I was doom scrolling on Pinterest, trying to see if I could make some tree decorations in an insomnia bout (because I’d already completed TLOU - irony I know) and discovered a fanfic.

and I was lost in it, 200k deep and then I read another, and another, and I don’t know why I had an idea to attempt to write my own, but I did, and I poured all of my pain into it. (I eventually took this fic down because it was so freaking personal and painful to have up - and it’s still shared now by several people which irks me a lot). but god at the time? it healed me. and it brought me two people who I still talk to to this day, even if we don’t live in the same timezone.

I stayed in that fandom until 2018 when I left and continued only writing for daredevil (which id joined in like 2016).

and then in 2019 I stopped all together due to bad mental health, and just personal things in my life (I really wasn’t doing that well and wanted a bit of a reset).

it was then I began writing an original story. working on it obsessively, eventually shaping it to show some agents at a writing festival in 2020 (virtually, cause of the rona). and it was good, I met with three and two of them loved it. i had amazing feedback, including requests, and I should have been happy, right?

well, I FREAKED out. my little romcom could be something? I sobbed, I broke down, I couldn’t get out of bed for two days and I was a mess.

now, the reasons as to why, is still fuzzy to me. but I assume it’s because all of my life I’d truly believed that Im not good at anything. and writing was this one thing I had to myself, that I shared but never expected anything. and then, suddenly there was expectations, and the reality that people had read it—people who could do things with it, terrified me.

their nice words had weight, meaning? and yet they felt like iron pokers against my skin. even through therapy I don’t like delving into the why’s the what’s, but I assume it’s a combination of lack of self belief and the foundation I’m built on (and why I struggle with compliments) but also the fact it went from a hobby to something that could be something. and I think I freaked at it.

from here, my mental health took a big hit, I was so anxious I couldn’t leave the house and by the end of that year I was back to where I was in 2019, but if anything, much worse?

I didn’t know who I was. all the trauma i thought I’d healed from, rose up inside of me and it took me ages to finally be able to even think about writing again. I was broken. reset to more than factory settings because I couldn’t even recall what I liked? what I loved (outside of my husband and dog). I was a shadow wandering around, going from appointment to appointment.

and then, because he’s an amazing soul, my husband suggested I write fanfic again. start again, try. and I did. I potted around under a different name and then in 2022 i grabbed mvtthewmurdvck back, and I came back through call of duty.

by the end of that year, I found narcos 💁‍♀️ (javi supremacy) and here we are, 2024.

I say a lot that writing saved me, and it literally did.

and I rarely share all of this, but I’m not ashamed of my story, but sometimes I feel I should have been stronger?

but actually, I’m strong for getting up even when I was knocked down. I rebuilt, I reshaped and I discovered threads in myself I’d never known was there. and that took guts.

I was able to discover my sex drive, a thing I’ve struggled with (even in my loving and brilliant relationship) after some trauma when I was 15 with my boyfriend at the time (iykyk). I was able to write scenarios that I could then bring into my own life, and I wrote an entire fic (ILTWY) that helped me discover that I actually love sex. that I love pleasure in all its forms.

I was able to find my heart again, and write a romcom that made me find people I couldn’t be without now, but also, show myself that I can still write a romcom, and that thing in 2020 was just a blip, it wasn’t a sign and it wasn’t a thing that would define me.

and, even now, while I’m struggling to even smile, and I cried putting my eyebrows on this morning, I wrote my feelings out into a Drabble I’m not sure if I’ll share, that made me feel like I could go to work today and cope.

I say that notes and things aren’t my focus here, but never really explained why, but this, all above, is why. writing is there for me, it’s a crutch, it’s a saviour when the world feels too much. it was a thing that I lived without for a short period, but when I came back to it, it was like returning home.

and the best part? I get to share my words with you, I get to think “maybe this will resonate with people” and find that sometimes, it does. I get to be a comfort, to make someone smile, to make you laugh or even make you feel a little horny hahahah. and that means MORE to me, because when I was lost, afraid and terrified of the voice in my head, someone else’s words did that for me. they held me close, they helped me stop and pause and take a breath.

and that’s how I got into writing fanfic, and why it will forever be something special to me.

an: I haven’t edited this, and I’m shaking, so if there’s spelling mistakes, ignore.

[wannab-urs]

Gin's 2023 sappy post

It's hard for me to believe that at the beginning of this year, I didn't know a single one of my best friends in the world existed. But it's true!

How we got here

I'm not quite sure exactly when I started looking up Pedro Pascal on Tumblr, but it was sometime after February. I'd watched Game of Thrones and Oberyn was my favorite character, but I was in one of my periods of not being on Tumblr (I've had this account for about 10 years, but it's seen many fandoms and I haven't always been active).

I watched the first few episodes of The Last of Us that had come out - I was 3 episodes behind I think - and immediately looked up Joel Miller on Tumblr. How could I not? Anyway, give me ten minutes on this hellsite and a middle aged man with a huge imdb and watch me develop a hyperfixation.

So then I looked up interviews. I watched basically every interview this man ever did, but I remember that the Lie Detector interview and his appearance on the Talk Easy podcast are really what did me in. I went from admiring this man as an actor and thinking he's pretty to basically being in love with him.

Anyways....

I didn't mean to start reading fanfic? I come from the world of Destiel on AO3. I never wrote it, I just read copious amounts of it. I'd never read reader insert, much less straight reader insert, and I'd never written a word of anything even resembling a fanfiction.

But I found @prolix-yuy, @frannyzooey, @joelscruff, @fuckyeahdindjarin, and @ezrasbirdie (check the spreadsheet, y'all are at the very top!) and I was hooked.

Then I read Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat and Celestial Navigation by @write-and-buried and was inspired to parade my trauma around in a Dieter shaped trench coat: AGOY was born.

@beskarandblasters is the first person I really talked to on here. In fact, Kel is the one who introduced me to most of my friends on here. And we've been harassing each other on the daily since. I hope to 🦵 her in real life someday soon ❤️. I love you, bitch. You mean the world to me.

I could never ever ever list all of my dear friends I've made on here. Seriously, there are so many of you that mean the world to me. But I'm gonna list a few.

My cannibal crew @pr0ximamidnight and @atinylittlepain, without whom Love as Violence Dave (starving season), Head up his Ass Javi (in the a.m.), and the later editions of loser druggie Dieter (AGOY) would not exist - or at least they wouldn't be as good as they are.

My darling soup snake, the loml, my spider twin, my forever partner in making bitches cry (it's us, we're bitches, making each other cry in an endless loop) @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin. #1 AGOY stan forever, you may love my own magnum opus more than I love it. Thanks for listening to me scream about every pedro boy on the planet and thanks for screaming right back at me. I love you.

The random college student I found by accident, decided to take under my wing, and then was subsequently taken under their wing bc it turns out they have more fandom experience and life advice than I can ever hope to have @idolatrybarbie. Bea, my darling, thanks for always letting me bitch, for showing me fics I never thought I'd be into (The Santa Claus AU Frankie Morales Free Use Kink, anyone) but that I often was into, for encouraging my writing, and for being fucking real with me.

The pedrostories crew, but especially @pedrorascal - I love screaming about Pedro with you at... 2:30 in the morning my time (we love time zones!). Thanks for letting me be a terrible mod for your fic archive blog and never getting mad at me for not doing my job. And for being a wonderful, kind, amazing person all the fucking time.

I'm being so serious when I say I could list at least 20 more people. People who brightened my day with a reblog or a message. Or who wrote a fic I still think about at least once a week. Or who made a gifset that is permanently etched into my brain. People I talked to in discords and most likely trauma dumped on and they listened and they cared and they let me hold their trauma in return. I love you guys so fucking much.

Conclusion

I never could have imagined I'd be a writer and run a fic rec blog at 24. Especially not for Pedro Pascal Characters. But here we are -- and I can honestly say it has been the highlight of my year. And I bought a house this year.

I have so many new friends and a new hobby (I never wrote at all before this) just because I wanted to Fuck That Old Man. Incredible.

[wildernesslost]

under the cut is YJ S2 episode 8 spoilers mentioned but what i want to talk about is a little criticism i have of the way the show has treated their POC characters this season in particular, now I write this as a white bitch, so by all means there are plenty of other folks who are probably more equipped than me to talk about it, so listen to them over me, this is just what i have noticed, and i preface this with the fact i do love this show, and i love that they have a diverse cast, the representation itself is great, but representation only goes so far, you feel me?

I am still processing this week's episode, and I wanna start by saying right out the bat, that Javi deserved fucking better. BOTH of the Martinez brothers deserve better than for their deaths to be used a plot device to add trauma to Natalie's character, without their storylines being in any way meaningful fleshed out, this season in particular Javi has been entirely sidelined after his miraculous return from the wilderness, which we only found out about how he survived and was hiding this week as a means to a plot line to serve Natalie's survival, and don't get me wrong I ADORE Natalie, she is one of my favourites, so this is in NO WAY character hate, this is purely criticism of the show runners, and while I get that someone had to die in his episode, that isn't my criticism, I think he could have still ultimately met the same fate but with his character having actually been given some depth, and for us to have found out before Thursday where he was.

In season 1 we find out Travis is dead in modern timeline, with little to no real storyline, no real explanation other than an oh whoops it went bad and Travis died, oh well, too bad, better move along from Lottie (i love our delulu antler queen but C'MON). The only person really affected b his death was Natalie, and it felt like a real cheap shot to use his death only to add trauma points for her, without once again, giving it more depth and substance.

I know that with such a big cast, and two timelines there is always going to be things we wish we'd gotten, but to me, it feels like it's even more of an issue for the BIPOC characters on the show (Akilah's lack of storyline besides nugget, or the fact none of the mains seemed to give a shit that Crystal (Kristen) was never found, who'd death was only used to give Misty some trauma points. Simone's character barely being mentioned when her wife almost caused her god-damn untimely demise - and sure i get that she isn't a 'main' she's Tai's wife, her storyline isn't wound up in the main modern storyline, it still feels off that we saw the car crash then CRICKETS...anyway, you get my point.)

I just think it's very telling the way that the white main characters are given far more screen time and storylines that are actually meaningful, i'm just a little disappointed that his death was used for shock value and trauma points to a white counterpart, but it's not anything new in TV, so while i am disappointed, I am not surprised. Maybe i have worded this terribly and if i have people feel free to yell at me or give your own interpretation! xD

[cnfrmdkll]

Okay time to talk about Jake’s dating history! going under a cut for length and potentially triggering things while discussing shitty doms and age gaps. 

As always, personals please do not reblog. 

This is applicable for almost all verses. The biggest divergent is the Married verse and the Admiral’s son verse, which I will explain below. 

Jake’s has had far more hook ups, one night stands and fuck buddies than he has had actual relationships. 

In high school. he had two boyfriends who only lasted a couple of months and one that last closer to six months (Bryan). That last relationship is the one that ended with Jake being outed (to the school, community and his parents) because they got caught going at it but one of his boyfriend’s friend. In an effort to save himself from being outed, he threw Jake under the bus and it made his life hell. No matter how progressive the town they lived in was, being thrust into the school spotlight as the gay kid in the mid 2000s was rough. (Jake had already slept with both of his previous boyfriends so he at least didn’t have the extra trauma of it being the first person he slept with who did that to him.)

Then came the grad student (Mason). While Jake did his best to recover from the hell that was the outing, he also found himself seeing (loosely) a guy he met after sneaking into a club. Jake was 18, Mason was 23. Jake was really just expecting a one night stand but they kept meeting up and after a few weeks was the first time that Mason took on a Dom role and really introduced Jake to the concept. While he wasn’t outright abusive to Jake, he absolutely was the type of Dom who got into it to have control over someone else, not because he understood that the Sub is the one who actually has control in the relationship. It lasted a few months before he finally broke it off. 

For the rest of high school and into the first year of college, Jake stuck strictly to hook ups, being very up front about wanting nothing more than mutual releases and it worked out well enough, though he did end up kicking several to the curb for a variety of reasons. 

Sophomore year of college, Jake meet Will, who he initially only wanted for a one night stand but they turned out to have class together so he actually got to know him. They stayed together for the rest of Jake’s time in college (so about 2 1/2 years) and broke up because Jake was going into the Naval Academy and Will was pursuing a civilian career. Over the course of their relationship, they started to incorporate do.m/su.b aspects into things and Jake got to learn what a good Dom was like and how Mason was a pile of red flags disguised as a person. 

At the Academy, Jake met Shane, who he slept with for about a year, simply because the sex was good. They didn’t necessarily get along and Jake really thought he was an asshole but he was good in bed and Jake wasn’t really looking for anything more anyway. 

After that, Jake didn’t maintain any actually relationships, keeping too busy with work to really put in the effort to make anything work. Which leaves him at his currently single state and lowkey wanting to settle down with someone. 

In the Married verse (ft Bradley)

Jake’s dating history stops after Mason. That relationship inadvertently leads to Jake and Bradley getting together a few months later. 

Jake pulling away from his best friends because of his relationship with Mason has both Javy and Bradley worried and them both voicing their concern about the relationship and the fact he hid it from them pulled Jake away from Mason shortly before winter break of Senior year. Once Jake and Bradley get together, they stay together throughout college and get married shortly before they start the Academy. (Technically, they aren't lying on their applications when they say they aren't married because at the time of their applications, they aren't yet married.) 

In the Admiral's Sons verse

Having an openly bisexual father meant Jake was also very open about being gay pretty much from the time he realized he was gay. In high school, he had a few boyfriends, one of whom attempted to be more controlling than anyone liked, leading Jake to break it off. For the most part, he kept things casual in high school, content to not find something serious.

The last few months of high school and into College, he dated Bryan for little over a year before he found out that Bryan was cheating on him by finding him making out with his side piece. In the resulting argument, Jake asked for time and headed back home to Beau's house, unaware of the fact he was being followed. Once they got to the Simpson house, the argument restarted with Jake even more upset by the fact Bryan refused to give him the space he asked for. Beau and Pete overheard the two arguing and intervened. Jake spent the weekend with his dad and sister, who Beau had alerted to what was going on, before heading back to campus, where he did everything he could to avoid Bryan.

After that break up, Jake started to close himself off and didn’t really maintain any relationships for very long. Summer between Sophomore and Junior year of College is when he had his relationship with Mason. It lasted for a few months before he realized how toxic the relationship was and broke it off. Javy and Jess weren’t told until after he broke it off. 

He did still have his relationship with Will but it was for a much shorter period of time (throughout Senior Year of College. They were both aware going in that Jake had every intention of pursuing a Naval career so they knew their time was limited). From there, the rest of his relationship history followed as listed above.

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter One

Summary: You live in Bogotá in the ‘90s, and work odd hours. No, you’re not a DEA agent, but a nurse. These odd hours prompt odd habits, like working out at 2:03 A.M. after a shift. Odd hours attract odd people, and you have a chance encounter with one DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña. Warnings: language, blood and violence (both graphic), descriptions of death and gun violence Chapter 1 W/C: 2.3K A/N: you guys! I am so in love with this fic. I already have quite a bit more written and can’t wait for you to read it! I hope you love it as much as I do! Javi deserves some softness... but not too much. this can’t all be fluff when you’re Javier Peña. Okay, this is not super canon-fitting of Narcos, I’m just gonna be honest with y’all. This is between the time of Escobar’s escape from La Catedral and his final capture and death, but also… Connie’s still in Colombia. Additionally, I don’t really have a year in mind, it’s just somewhere in that period. Please note that this is not a very lighthearted story- it begins with a death, though not of a significant character. Javier and reader both have some trauma, so please check the warnings of each chapter before you start reading. If you’re continuing on, I hope you like it! For the most part, if I use italics here when someone is speaking, it’s indicating that it’s in Spanish. I’m okay at the language, but I don’t want to butcher anything, so… just imagine it. Otherwise, it’s just the way anyone would use italics I guess.

next chapter

Chapter One

You watched a woman you didn’t know die in your arms tonight.

 She was beautiful, all dressed up to go out and party, her makeup running down her face with tears. Her lips were the painted the color of the blood that trickled from the side of them, eyes glazing over as she coughed and coughed and ruined the beautiful dress she wore. The nurses had asked what happened, and she had told them, through gurgles of blood: she had slept with one of Escobar’s men. She got too close, learned too much, and they tracked her down. 

She flatlined not long after telling the nurses around you. You had stood in the corner, paralyzed at first. You were an experienced ER nurse, nothing was new. You had seen patients die, but something about her was different. Maybe it was the way she reached out to you right before her body went limp. You didn’t make it to her bedside in time to calm her, the panic holding you down, but you finally took her hand right as she took her last breath. 

After she passed, you threw up in the bathroom, shaking and clutching the toilet. The night air had grown unbearably hot and humid, causing your scrubs to cling to your skin, and the sweat from the heaving of your stomach didn’t make things easier on you. Lorena, a fellow nurse and your best friend at work, had found you and comforted you, rubbing your back and bringing you water. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t reverse what had happened. 

Now, you sit on a bench in the staff’s locker room, redoing the ponytail holding your hair from your damp face. Your shift ended a few minutes ago, but you don’t know what to do now. You don’t feel like drinking; that would only make the visions swimming in your head worse. You know you can’t go home, can’t attempt to find sleep tonight. You look up and spot a bag with tennis shoes and spare clothing and settle your mind on at least one thing: the gym could do you some good. You change into the clothes and put the blood-spattered scrubs in the laundry pile. 

As you leave, you give Lorena a little wave goodbye and exit the building. You’re hyper-aware of your surroundings tonight, and you groan as you look at your watch and notice that it’s precisely 2:09 A.M. here in Bogotá. The walk to your fitness club is short, but your step is slightly extra hurried and your hand is on your pepper spray the entire time, extra vigilant to the fact that a hit went down somewhere around here just a few hours earlier. Surprisingly enough, no one catcalls or bugs you tonight. 

The little gym is run-down and dilapidated, and there’s no working air conditioning, but it’s the only one near you. You paid the small monthly membership fee to gain access, and you were going to use it to get in shape, you’d decided. As you swipe in and enter, the tiny fitness center looks more depressing in the fluorescent lights, no daylight to sugarcoat the atrocities of the center. There are two of every machine, a punching bag and a speed bag, two weightlifting racks, and a couple of benches. 

It’s nice that you get to work out alone tonight, you tell yourself. Even better is the fact that you now get to control the music. Desperate for a taste of home, you flip the large boombox in the corner on and begin scanning the airwaves with the dial. There’s a station in town that plays American music, and you need it more than anything tonight. You listen carefully and nearly start sobbing again as you hear Billy Joel’s voice through the speakers. With a sigh of relief, you lock your bag in the rusty lockers in the corner and head to the treadmill. It’s a beat up old thing, but this is the one you always use. It provides a little bit of comfort tonight, the familiarity of it. You turn it on low and start walking. A few moments later, you up it to a jog, mouthing along to the words of the familiar song. 

As the song ends, you push the buttons enough to enter a running speed. Your feet slam into the treadmill harder than normal tonight, feeling as overwhelmed as when you left the hospital. Your body finally works up a sweat, the physical stress overwhelming the mental stress. 

As the events of tonight replay in your head to some other song from the late 80’s, your eyes start to water. Everything was so overwhelming, and your mind is just starting to process it. You finally allow the tears to fall, mixing with the sweat coating your cheeks. It’s hard to tell which is causing more of the mess, but you let yourself cry it out as you run for the next few minutes. 

The next song that comes on is Venus by Bananarama. You almost chuckle at the fact that it’s a few years old by now, but the song is comforting. It reminds you of home, of a time before you had issues like these. You slow down the treadmill a little, singing to the words aloud once you catch your breath enough. Daring to do a little spin on the rolling surface, you groove along to the music, chuckling a little

After the first chorus, you hear a creaking noise and whip around to find a man standing in the doorway. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You shout before you can stop yourself, hopping off the treadmill and onto the non-moving one before you get flung off. Your heart is pounding from the running, only intensifying the adrenaline rush from the scare. 

The man chuckles a little, but the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s tired- of course he is, it’s now 2:30 in the morning. “Lo siento,” you offer in Spanish, cringing at yourself and your reaction just now. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here this late,” you stutter, still panting from the running. He shakes his head lightly. “You’re American,” he says simply. In English, in a beautifully American accented voice.

Your sweaty brow furrows, a glimmer of hope sparking inside your chest as you notice that he speaks like an American himself. “So are you.”

He nods at that. “That I am,” he says as he puts his things in a locker, snapping it shut behind him. He looks at you for a moment. You’re not working at the Embassy, or he’d know you. It was rare to find an American down here that wasn’t working for the government somehow. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, looking at how tired he appears in the big mirrored wall. He’s curious, but he’s exhausted. 

You look at him for a moment. “You going to explain anything, like, tell me about yourself? Or do I have to go first?” You ask, hands on your waist as you hop back on the slowly moving treadmill, back into moving. He doesn’t respond. “Fine. I know you’re government. I’m not an idiot.”

He chuckles and tugs on his t-shirt, moving to the treadmill next to you and getting on. It’s been ages since you’ve held a conversation in English, and you missed this, missed how easily your first language flows from your mouth. “And you’re not.”

“Correct,” you nod, turning up the speed a little on the machine until you’re at a light jog. “My bigger concern was going to be why you’re here at 2-fucking-30, but I’m guessing I know the answer. You get called in around here for the hit?” He nods, starting the treadmill up and walking on it. 

“You don’t have to be so guarded, Jesus. I fucking hate Escobar, I’m on your side,” you scoff before turning up the machine until you’re running once more.

Javier shrugs. “Makes sense. How did you know-”

“She died,” you say quickly and firmly, keeping your eyes straight ahead and looking at the room around you. “Add that to your file.”

He nods, understanding a little more now. You knew her somehow. He doesn’t say a word either, cranking up the machine and heading into a jog too.

A few more minutes pass of the two of you silently running next to each other, the American music still playing throughout the gym. It’s a comfort to Javier too. Tonight was shit for the DEA- they had known Escobar’s men would be around here. They had the intel, they had everything ready, but the men somehow had escaped and left a victim in their wake. 

The frustration of everything, of the man being something close to home for you yet being a brick wall, threatens your eyes with welling tears again. “I just wanted to talk with an American,” you sigh and cross your arms, moving back into the walking stage of a treadmill. 

The man next to you gives a similar sigh, stopping his treadmill completely and offering you a hand. “Javier Peña.” You take it reluctantly, feeling the sweat of both of your hands mix, and tell him your name before retracting it and stopping the treadmill too. “So, what brings you to the gym at 2:30?” He asks, crossing his arms and leaning against the center part of the treadmill. 

“I’m a nurse. I work the graveyard shift. Bad night, a patient died because she got fucking shot for having a boyfriend and not knowing he was a narco, I need to get something out, I come here,” you shrug, unconsciously mimicking him by folding your arms as well. 

He nods at that. “I’m here for the same. Shitty stakeout, I’m pissed off, I come here.” He leaves out the part about his favorite call girl being taken, and how he needed another way to get the rage inside of him out. He walks off of the treadmill and to the weight rack, pulling a bench beneath the bar.

You turn again and turn the machine back on, slowly jogging. “I see. Odd hours to be here, that’s why I asked,” you say simply. “And to see another American at such a time. I haven’t interacted with one since I came here.”

Javier nods, adjusting the weights on the bar. “Yeah. Weird,” he nods. “And that you’re an American who isn’t working for the government and you’re down here. What, you got a husband who works for us?”

You shake your head, swallowing hard for a moment. “No, don’t have a husband in the first place,” you admit, adjusting the ponytail holding your hair up. “It’s a long story.”

“We got time,” he shrugs as he gets on the bench beneath the rack, looking at you in the mirrored wall. Even with the sweat and the stress of working out, he notices that you’re gorgeous. You have a nice body, and even your face is pretty while you’re working out.

You shake your head. “Fine, if you really want to hear it.”

“Might as well. It’s that or more of this fucking Wham! music, and I’m sick of George Michael.”

“First of all, first person here gets the music, so mind your manners.” This finally earns a chuckle from the man, and you want to smile but it just can’t come. “I came down here with a man. He’s a citizen here. We were going to get married, but he left me. That was a couple of months ago now,” you admit, the tears beading in the corner of your eye again. “My work visa was still valid, and I renewed it so I can keep working at the hospital. I don’t really have anyone down here except the girls I work with, but I like helping out. They need me.” He nods a little as he listens, breaking his focus as he starts his reps with the bar.

“And you’re government, so that explains everything I need to know about you,” you continue to babble. “One of the girls I work with has a husband who’s at the Embassy. Murphy,” you say offhandedly. 

Javier’s attention is caught, and he sets the bar on the rack. “Murphy?” He asks, and you turn your head to look at him and give him a nod. “No shit. That’s my partner.”

You chuckle slightly and look back at him, stopping the treadmill. “So you know Connie?”

Javi nods. “Yeah, great gal. She could do better than Steve,” he says, sitting up.

You laugh softly at that. “From what I’ve heard of him, I agree. She’s a really great girl, you’re right,” you nod in agreement, looking back at him. “She’s never mentioned you. She says her husband’s in janitorial, but we all know that’s not true. What, you guys CIA? DEA?”

Javier nods again. “DEA.”

“I see,” you say, folding your arms and leaning against the machine. “Can’t make you many friends around here. I learned pretty quickly to keep my mouth shut about being a gringa. They can usually tell though.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles and cracks his back.

You bite your lip as you look at him, your voice watery when you can finally speak again, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion again. “It’s nice to talk to someone in English again,” you admit with a forced smile. 

He can read your eyes easily. You’re a nurse, and you told him that the victim died. You saw it. “It is,” he nods, reading your pain and trying to show you he empathizes with it. Your eyes are beautiful, he notices as he looks into them. So much more hope and trust than anyone else he works with, but the pain in them is unbearable. He looks away, leaning back on the bench to lift again.

“So where you from in the States?” You finally ask when the silence is too long. 

“Laredo, Texas,” he chuckles. “Yourself?”

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.4k 

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg​, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week. 

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent.  He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you.  Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.  

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 7: El Hombre con el Corazón Ardiente

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: After finally standing up for herself, Javier takes it upon himself to treat her to a lovely evening together. Yet the mere idea of what happened and what might still happen won’t let go of him.

Warnings: swearing, angst, suggestive sexual content, nudity, arguing, mentions of abusive household 

Masterlist

Previous chapter

Next chapter

“How’s that?”

You let out a moan, the mixture of his hot hands and the aroma of the water just plain entrancing.

He lowers his hand to that particularly sore spot on your lower back, rubbing it just the right way. “Words, hermosa..”

“Mhmm, ‘sgood, very good.. don’t stop”, you mutter groggily, eyes threatening to shut any second.

His breath fans against your ear as he huffs out a chuckle, lips pressing to the tender skin there. “Don’t fall asleep, we’re just getting started.”

As his hands move around to your front, softly grazing the underside of your stinging breasts, you flinch a bit. “Ten cuidado”, you whisper, lips moving against his cheek. (Be careful.)

“¿Confías en mí?”, he questions, thumbs rubbing over your hardening peaks. (Do you trust me?)

“Mhmm, depends..”, you teased, smirking up at him.

He frowned at you, trying his hardest not to smirk right back. “On what?”

“I trust you with my life in the field.. but at home.. seeing how you nearly burnt down the apartment like half an hour ago.. I’m not so sure..”

He grabbed a hold your chin, forcing you to look straight up at him. “Don’t get too mouthy now, hermosa.”

You leaned back a bit more, lips brushing past his. “I’ll do with this mouth as I please.”

He bit his bottom lips, hand sliding down to your throat. “As much as I want to take you up on that.. you need to heal up a bit more first.”

“I know, I just enjoy gaging reactions”, you purred, taking his hand off your throat.

“Never took you as the brat kind of girl.”

You pressed your lips to his for a short, sweet kiss. “You’ll find I’m full of surprises, agente Peña.”

Having keened his interest, you peeled his arms off of you, grabbing onto the rim of the tub as you went to stand. “W-where are you going?”

“Water’s getting cold”, you sighed, wrapping a towel around yourself. “And I would’ve fallen asleep.”

He got out of the bathtub as well, reaching for the other towel on the rack. “Your back feel any better?”

“Loads”, you walked up behind him, resting your chin on his bare shoulder as you captured his gaze in the foggy mirror. “Thank you.”

“You did good today.. I know it wasn’t easy but you’re doing the right thing”, he softly spoke, drying his torso.

“I’m sure others would disagree”, you sighed, slipping on the silky chemise that you’d laid out for the night. “I-I’m just really scared of having to go to court about it.”

He adjusted the fallen strap on your left shoulder, dragging his fingers to your cheek, holding them there. “We have hard evidence and maybe even witnesses. Whatever happens, I’ll be right here with you, corazón, every step of the way.”

“Ah fuck”, you muttered under your breath, tugging at the hem of your chemise.

“Feeling sick? Cramp? What’s wrong?”, Javier hovered over you, immediately turning around.

“Oh no, no, I’m okay, just.. this doesn’t fit”, you chuckled.

He looked at the way the fabric didn’t stretch over your hips, smugly smiling. “It’s all those hot meals Lopez gave you.”

“Or it’s the fact that you knocked me up”, you retorted, playfully smacking his behind.

“Take my shirts until you can buy some new stuff”, he suggested, ruffling a smaller towel through his damp hair.

You pecked his shoulder, walking out of the bathroom to pull a t-shirt out of his bag. As you turned you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Oh wow, yeah, your breasts did look a bit fuller and your lower belly had somewhat of a curve to it. You turned a bit, watching yourself from the side and hesitantly put a hand on your swollen abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily a noticeable bump yet, but it was there.

“You look beautiful”, his voice sounded.

You whipped your head in his direction, his figure looking impossibly broad leaning against the doorway like that. “You’re just saying that because of these”, you taunted, gesturing towards your chest.

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” He walked over to you, grabbing the shirt from your hands and slipping it over your head. “But if you don’t cover those up I won’t be able to control myself.”

He gave a flustered chuckle when you pushed the fabric up against your nose. “Smells like you..”

“Fucking weirdo. Let’s go make some food.”

 Javier had improvised a dinner with whatever he could find in your cupboards and fridge. He managed to cook up some homemade garlic bread while you sliced and diced some vegetables for the main course, promising a great start to the evening.

When you’d practically inhaled half a piece, he grabbed a hold of your wrist. “Slow down, you’re gonna choke.”

You took another bite, closing your eyes as you fucking savoured it. “You’re making this every day now.”

“I almost burned the apartment down, again”, he reminded you.

You laughed, giving him the opportunity to take the half-eaten piece of bread from your hand. He shoved it into his own mouth, winking at you. You gave him an offended look, crossing your arms as you stared into his eyes. “That was a hate crime.”

“C’mon, you were gonna be full before dessert, I did you a favour here”, he taunted, wiping some left-over butter off your chin.

You smiled at him, cuddling into his chest: “Shut up. Now hands off, I need to check on the chicken.”

He laid back in the couch, watching as you made your way over to the kitchen, the fabric of his shirt swaying in rhythm with your strides. “Need any help?”

“Nope! Do you want a beer?”, you called.

Javier could get used to this. He never really imagined himself a family man, but spending the evening just in your company? That didn’t seem so unlikely anymore. The way he’d catch you looking at him, eyes shimmering with unspoken words of affirmation and adoration, he could tell you were happy. He couldn’t grasp it though, the fact that somebody as sweet and pure as you would ever settle for a mess like him. Maybe he was somewhat of a project to you, or maybe, just maybe you loved him as much as you’d claimed earlier that day. His heart raced just from looking at you. The way you were stood in that mirror earlier, cupping the slight swell of your belly, it had triggered something within his deeper conscience. He’d never admit it though – well, maybe one day, but tonight, tonight was good enough the way it was. Just the two of you in that damn apartment, getting to know one another. As much as he was enjoying the moment, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat conflicted about what had been revealed to him back at the office. The recounting of your childhood conflicts and traumas not leaving his mind, even as he watched you twirl around the kitchen, teeth-baring grin plastered on that precious face of yours. How in the hell did you do it, how in the hell were you this strong. He’d been wanting to talk about it all night, wanting to know everything, but he’d decided that you could use a break, even if it was just for one night.

“Hola Peña, ayudarme!” (Hey, help me)

He immediately got up from the couch, joining you at the stove. “Did you say something?”

“Yeah, just get me two plates and like a spatula”, you instructed, turning the knobs on the furnace.

He passed you the utensil, two plates balancing on his other arm. “So we uh, we’re like a thing now, right?”

You found the time to look at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

“Thought I’d confirm before like.. grabbing your ass at work or something.”

“Grabbing my- take these damn plates to the couch before I beat your ass”, you giggled.

He did as you asked, smirking to himself, thinking of the perfect comeback. “Gotta tell Lopez and Suarez somehow.”

“I swear if you bring it up one more time I will not have sex with you for a week.”

 The rest of the night was spend on the couch with a tub of vanilla ice cream to be shared between the both of you. You’d eventually just gone to watching tv, too tired and sore to do literally anything else. Javier didn’t complain though, God knows he was exhausted as well. It was no surprise really when he fell asleep with your head in his lap, fingers suddenly stilled in your hair. You’d noticed he was out before dozing off yourself, mouth slightly agape, drooling a bit. The two of you had been there for about an hour, completely knocked out when Javier suddenly jolted awake, startling you.

“Shit, sorry”, he gasped.

You sat up, placing a hand on his heaving chest. “What’s the matter, Javi?”

“Just a stupid dream, but I’m fine”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Sit tight baby, I’ll get you some water.”

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back as he focused on getting his heartrate down. This hadn’t happened in a while, well he hadn’t slept that much anyway, so go figure. When he had nightmares they were never about himself but about others and this time it was about you. He didn’t know what your dad looked like, not even in the slightest, but the picture he created in his head was enough to make his blood boil.

“Here, drink up.”

He eagerly took the glass from your hands, downing it in just a few gulps, his breathing somewhat slower. As you got up to refill it for him, he tugged you back over to him. “Please just.. sit with me..”

You put the glass on the coffee table, taking a seat on his lap, a leg on either side of him. Balling up the shirt’s fabric in your hand, you gently swiped it across his sweaty forehead. “Wanna talk about it?”, you cooed, brushing some stray locks behind his ear.

“Just give me a minute, then we can go to bed”, he slurred, resting his head against your sternum.

The two of you sat there for half a dozen minutes, just wrapped up in each other. It was silences like these you cherished. The only sound his breathing which got calmer by the minute until eventually he was perfectly fine again, pressing a kiss to your neck before looking up at you. You let out a squeak as he cupped your bottom, standing up with you wrapped around him. He carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the counter there.

“I’m gonna get some more water, you get ready, okay?”

By the time he was ready for bed, you were already sat on the mattress, writing down a grocery list as he emerged. “M’gonna head out to the market tomorrow, need some stuff”, you declared, pen wedged between your teeth.

“Just wake me up, I’ll come with.”

“I was actually hoping to go and meet Connie as well and help her out with Olivia.”

He took his shirt off before sliding under the covers. “I’ll take Steve out then”, he added, rubbing a hand over your thigh. “C’mere querida, I’m not done with you yet.”

 When you fell asleep exactly, you had no idea, but it took a loooong time. Longer than usual, especially considering the other half of the bed was constantly moving. Whether it was tossing from his left to his right or accidentally sucker-punching you in his flailing, you couldn’t pinpoint. You’d nonetheless made your way out of the arena, taking you pillow to the couch. It wasn’t as comfy as your bed, but the risk of a broken nose was significantly smaller.

You woke up to a pair of lips pressed to your head, a hand on your shoulder. “Did I say something bad?”, he joked.

You nuzzled deeper into your pillow, not wanting to open your eyes, painfully fatigued. “Fuck you.”

“That bad huh?”, he continued, kneeling down in front of you.

“Nearly kicked me out of the bed”, you mumbled groggily, opening one eye to look at him.

He pecked your forehead again, rubbing a hand through your hair. “Tell you what, you go back to bed and I’ll run down to the bakery for some breakfast.”

“I’m gonna be like.. really really hungry though.”

“I’ll get you the good stuff, now get back in bed.”

You kissed his lips as you sat up, swatting his bum in passing. The bed had never felt so fucking snug before, as you flopped down. Falling back asleep almost as soon as you hit the pillow. You’d get your revenge later, but for now, you’d linger in the warmth of his pillow.

As Javier headed down to the shop, he took the scenic route, aka going to the office. He was a nervous wreck knowing your case could’ve been reviewed already. He just needed to know, he couldn’t get it out of his head at this point. He was surprised to find Steve there, giving him a knowing look before joining him at the desk.

“And?”

“They approved, should get a response somewhere next week.”

Javier let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on the desk. “Thank fucking Christ.”

“Think she’ll be okay?”, his partner asked, genuine concern in his tone.

“She’s fine, if it was up to me he would’ve been rotting in there already.”

“It’s not that easy okay, she still had ties with her sisters… she just didn’t want to lose it all over-“

“Over her own fucking safety?”, he scolded. “I mean shit, probably would have never even told me if she didn’t get her ass handed to her.”

Steve shuffled on his feet, motioning for his partner to calm down. “It’s not something she talks about. Don’t take it personally, I knew her for years and also found out that way.”

“Don’t take it pers– that’s the mother of my fucking child, man! Can’t get much more personal than that!”

“You wanna play daddy now huh, take care of your girl? Don’t fucking forget who made her run home in the first place Peña.”, Steve snarled, poking his friend in the chest.

He grabbed two fistfuls of Murphy’s jacket, face dangerously close to his, eyes glaring into his. “You know jack shit.”

“You gonna get sick of this one too? Find another altar to leave her at?”

“I was there holding her when she screamed and cried, for hours, I kept myself together for her, still do. And you, you fucking just watched her get destroyed and ripped apart and didn’t do shit! Don’t even try to talk down to me man, check yourself!” He was shaking with rage, chest heaving in between strings of broken screams and curses. “I burn for her.”

Deciding to be the bigger person, he turned around, heading out of the office. He wasn’t perfect, hell, far from it, but he wasn’t about to let that fucker get to him. He was bigger, better than this. So he did what he knew best, going for a drive. As he pulled up to the sandwich shop, like he’d promised the anger has somewhat left his body, the only remnant the protruding vein on his neck and the furrow of his brows.

When he walked back into the apartment he was met with a welcoming silence. He left his shoes and keys at the door, just the way you liked it and headed straight for the bedroom. You were cuddled up in the sheets, lips perked up in an adorable pout.

I burn for her.

Even peacefully asleep you set his heart aflame, unleashed the passions he’d hidden away years ago. You brought out the things he kept tucked away, for fear of what might happen if they were ever to be unleashed again. Something about the way you touched him, the way you talked to him, the way you just treated him in general made him feel safe and rooted. It made him feel like a person, the monstrous persona he’d become chipping away with every brush of your lips. You were it for him, all he ever needed and all he’d ever want, you were his everything. Maybe one day he could tell you, maybe one day he could find the right words to say to you, he sure as hell wanted to.

It was a bit past noon at this point, the sun starting to shine through the curtains. The beams cast the room in a yellowy hue, the sheets looking incredibly inviting and soft in this light. He set down the bag on the other side of the bed, slowly sitting down, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You blinked a few times, squinting as you adjusted to the brightness within the room. “What time is it?”

The two of you sat in bed, eating sandwiches and just enjoying the slow day. He’d told you he went to the office and ran into Murphy, he discretely let out the part where he almost choked him out, instead said something about Connie and him being unavailable today. You insisted you could handle yourself for some groceries, but Javier’s big stubborn brain had reasoned again anything of the sorts. So not too soon after the two of you found yourselves in the centre of Bogotá, the market to be precise.

He admired the way you talked to the locals and the way they seemed to know you, smiling and offering you kind words as you passed by them. Despite being the one to insist he come along, he found himself bored within minutes, straying from your side a bit when he thought you took too long deciding between fucking soap or towels. Javier had always been a simple man, not one to stop and enjoy the finer things, but with you here, he didn’t mind it all that much. Somewhere along the way you’d pointed out a small café, wanting to grab a quick drink before finishing up on your shopping. He’d of course agreed, Javier Peña wasn’t one to turn down a fresh, cold beer.

“¿Es mi niña?”, an elderly woman called out to you.

You got up and enveloped the lady in a heartfelt embrace. As she kissed your face all over, Javier just quirked a brow, perplexed at the sight.

“Dios mío, ¿ese es él tipo?“, the woman cooed, “Muy guapo.” (My goodness, is that him? Very handsome.)

You blushed a bit at her words, before slowly nodding. “Rosita, este es mi novio.“ (This is my boyfriend.)

“Perdón, ¿me estoy perdiendo algo?”, Javier intervened, not sure what to make of the situation. (Sorry, but am I missing something?)

Rosita walked off after you asked her for something, giving you the opportunity to turn back to Javier. “I met her before I went home. She spotted me in the square and offered me a drink. I told her about what a jerk you were.”

He huffed out an awkward laugh before stowing his aviators in his breast pocket. “De acuerdo, soy un imbécil”, he smirked, sitting down across from you. “Nothing you didn’t know beforehand.” (All right, I’m a jerk.)

“Mhm, but a very persuasive one”, you teased with a teeth-baring smile.

“Persuasive huh?”, he taunted, leaning forward a bit, “You better behave, hermosa, no se burle de mí..” (Don’t tease me.)

He leaned back in his seat as Rosita set two glasses on the table. “Bueno, ¿cómo está el bebé?”, she asked excitedly, sitting between the both of you. (Well, how’s the baby?)

The two of you quickly caught up to speed on the whole baby thing while Javier just sat back and listened. He didn’t get the whole fussing about it, he actually found it rather annoying and off-putting, the way people would obsess over you and your baby. Eventually the conversation turned back around and Rosita was decidedly interrogating Javier on his behaviour towards you.

“Bueno, ¿y tú la estás tratando bien?” Her tone left no room for arguing or dishonesty, eyes glaring into his own, making him shift in his seat. (Well, are you treating her right?)

“Hago lo mejor que puedo, señora.. pero es del tipo testarudo”, he answered, winking at you. (I try my best ma’am.. but she’s rather stubborn.)

The old woman laughed, putting a hand over his: “Eso es lo que me gusta escuchar.” (That’s what I like to hear.)

 After about another half hour of the chitchatting you finally returned to the market, to Javier’s relief. He adored the old woman, but small talk and “high tea” wasn’t really his strong suit. He preferred drinking with the guys, free of puny conversation topics such as stretchmarks and morning sickness. You seemed to be enjoying yourself however, hence why he stayed seated, rather than finishing up your shopping himself. The two of you were casually walking through the stands, a feet or two apart, not wanting to raise too much suspicion in case any sicarios should see the two of you together. No matter where, Javier was always on his toes, having been familiar with the cartel’s practices for quite some time now. So when you’d go buy vegetables at one stand, he’d go admire the spices at the next one over, occasionally sneaking peaks at you. You were doing exactly that when he found himself in front of a stand with children’s toys and clothes. He rolled his eyes, cursing himself for just not walking ahead as the woman smiled at him.

“¿Puedo ayudarte en algo, cariño?”, she asked nicely.

He looked down at the table, sputtering out something about just looking when his eyes land on the tiniest set of little socks. He can’t help himself and finds the corners of his mouth curling up ever so slightly. They were nothing special, just a pair of plain white socks with some yellow stripes on them, but something about them made him pull out his wallet.

He stuffed them in his back pocket, turning around to see you over at the next vendor already, stocking up on the last of your groceries. Later – he thought – I’ll tell her later.

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily​ 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 10 favorite things about TFS?

Bold of you to assume I can narrow it down to just 10 things, but I’ll try my best. 

Here’s a list of things I LOVE about The Final Season of TWDG, starting from #10 and working my way down to #1.

10. Rosie is best girl and doesn’t die 

Listen, okay? If you give me a game with a doggo companion that I bond with only to have said doggo die for dramatic effect... you automatically lose 2 outta 5 stars on your rating. Case in point: Season 2.

However, tfs knew not to kill Rosie off for dramatic effect, knew it’d be cheap. Plus, Rosie is a sweetheart and I love that she helps Clementine come to terms with her past trauma with dogs and genuinely bonds with her. Rosie is best girl. 

9. Over the shoulder camera/controls 

They’re the best of the series, having come a LONG way since S1. Like, look... Don’t get me wrong. S1 isn’t unplayable or anything, far from it, but they’re not the greatest either. They’re pretty wonky at times, the fixed camera can get annoying when you’re moving around, and sometimes button presses don’t register. It’s definitely something I have to get used to whenever I go back and replay the entire series, and like I said, it’s not the worst controls in the world... but oh man, compared to TFS?

Have you ever played S1 and then jumped straight into TFS just to get a direct comparison of the two? Because I have and it’s jarring how much smoother, accurate, and overall better everything is in TFS.

Just... props, guys. Thank you for the over-the-shoulder, movable camera, thank you for the polished button prompts, and thank you for a run button that has Clementine go into a nice jog rather than a comical run or, eh... does nothing [lookin’ at you ANF... Javi slow].

It’s just so effortless to play. The most trouble I ever have is with doors but that’s a given- Doors make no goddamn sense in this series and I’ve given up trying to learn their secrets. Oh, and speaking of more improvements! 

The shooting mechanic in this game is leaps better than in S1. Y’all remember the Motor-Inn shootout? The one that was such a frustrating pain in the ass?? So much death and anger...

I still die sometimes when shooting the walkers with the bow, especially the ones that are on fire, but it’s nothing compared to the shooting mechanic in S1, so the biggest THANK YOU for that one. It’s actually enjoyable to shoot stuff this time around.

8. Collectibles 

You as Clementine get to pick up various collectibles to decorate her and AJ’s dorm with and it’s great. One of my favorite bits about this game is seeing Clementine wake up in this empty, lifeless room, and see it get brighter and brighter with every collectible you place throughout the game until you reach the final scene with AJ where the room is just FULL of life and personality. Like... it’s officially theirs. It’s such a good feeling! 

And the devs totally didn’t have to add the collectible system in, but I’m so thankful they did. I’m one of those people who gets every single collectible every single time I play. 

7. Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth

Y’know, I honestly can’t think of a better place for Clementine and AJ to end up than Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youth. It’s awesome, I love it, what a great idea. I also love the sense of wonder when we step outside for the first time and see the inside of Ericson, as well as the others, walking around. Like even Clementine is taken back by it.

Because of course it makes sense for Clementine to end up in a school surrounded by people closer to her age rather than with a group of dumbass adults like in the past three games.

Here it feels like they’re all about on the same level. There’s no older person here belittling Clementine because “she’s just a child and doesn’t get it,” they’re just people, y’know? Hell, if anything, Clementine’s now the most experienced one!

The school’s great! I wouldn’t change a thing about TFS taking place here. The environments are beautiful and I love exploring the world. 

6. Marlon as an antagonistic character/final confrontation 

I have an entire Marlon character discussion/study so I won’t put too much time into this one, but I will say that I love Marlon’s part in tfs. I love him as a surprise antagonistic character, I love how chill he is in the beginning, I love the final confrontation at the end of ep1... I just really like Marlon, y’know?

Ray Chase gives a damn near perfect performance as Marlon, so much so that I wish he survived past ep1 just so that I could hear more of his acting. Marlon himself in an interesting look at a leader character hiding his shame and guilt while trying to maintain control over everyone [including himself] around him, only to be broken down when he’s found out. 

5. James 

I know people tend to be pretty split on James, but I personally really like his role in tfs. I love that they included a character who was apart of the Whisperers, and hell, if anything I’d like to know MORE about James’ past with them. 

I just find him and his whole “walkers are sort of people? kinda?” beliefs. Again, I know some people get annoyed with him because of his beliefs but I think he adds an interesting spin on the whole thing, y’know? Though I do love what a bitch he is if you don’t agree with him hahaha

James is a bitch and I love him, okay? I love his dumb walker mask, I love his dumb boyband hair, I love his whispery voice, and I love his backstory with the Whisperers and Charlie. I love this he’s trying so hard to be this pacifist that he ends up doing the literal thing he said he doesn’t want to do-- hurt people. Y’know... like attempting to kidnap AJ and threatening to break Clementine’s leg in the caves if he’s alive. 

Which, by the way, that whole cave scene is a thing. It’s wild and I love it but not for the reasons the devs probably wanted. Like... it’s a little hilarious? I know it’s not supposed to be! But I can’t take James seriously when he’s walkin’ around his hands on his hips all huffy and puffy, okay? It’s just wild. 

Anyway, I love James and wouldn’t get rid of him. Hell, I’m still waiting for my James with the Whisperers mini-series, Skybound. 

4. Ericson Crew

There isn’t a single character from Ericson that I don’t like, or that I’d get rid of, which is rare with these games. Thinking back to the previous games, there’s always at least one person I could do without or that I didn’t like. I adore all of them!

The Ericson crew just feels closer than previous groups. For starters, they’re way more likable than most in our previous groups. Even when there’s tension [and boy is there tension at points] you still get the sense that they don’t hate each other, unlike in our previous groups. They do in fact love each other as a family and will do what they can to protect one another.

Plus, they’re all interesting. They’re troubled youth and I love all of them! 

Aasim keeps a daily journal where he chronicles everything in hopes of learning from past mistakes to prevent future ones, he’s damn good with a bow, and he’s got a neat little soul patch on his chin.  

Ruby is the tiny yet fiery medic of the group who adamantly believes in manners yet used to chase teachers around with pitchforks. 

Brody is caught up in the twin mess with Marlon but she’s also shown to want an escape, a road trip where she and her friends can go see the beach, but she also suffers with anxiety and panic attacks and isn’t afraid to knock Marlon on his ass or swear at Clementine. 

Mitch is a grumpy, tall boy who looks after Willy like a brother, knows how to make bombs out of manure and propane, and used to fight his neighbors because they didn’t like his face. 

Omar is a sassy chef who has to have every ingredient just right otherwise he’s salty for a week and he can take a bullet to the leg like a champ. 

Willy’s a goober who can climb trees like you wouldn’t believe and he made a bomb of his own in Mitch’s honor that completely wrecked the delta’s ship. 

Tenn is a soft, naïve boy who draws and reads but isn’t afraid to stab a walker bitch if he has to. 

Violet was sent to the school after witnessing her grandmother’s dead, she used to date Minerva who is now “dead,” has abandonment issues,  tries to give off the appearance of a grumpy grump but like once she’s comfortable with you she’ll tell you her life story and do romantic shit like dancing and painting you a pin. 

Louis was sent to Ericson because he was a rich brat who broke up his parents marriage because they wouldn’t let him take singing lessons and has felt like garbage ever since, using humor to cope and push people away, and keeps the façade on until someone’s willing to see past it in which he’ll finally bare his soul to you, name a song he wrote after you, and do everything in his power to keep you and everyone else safe over himself. 

I just... Love ‘em all. 

3. Clementine and AJ’s dynamic 

To think that they almost killed AJ off, or kept him a minor character. That would’ve been a shame and an absolute waste because Clementine and AJ’s dynamic is super fucking good in tfs. 

It’s actually a little baffling that AJ’s as good as he is, from his writing to his voice acting, he’s just great. And his relationship with Clementine is definitely one of my favorites to come from this game. It’s not perfect, but I don’t want perfect. 

I love that AJ looks to Clem for guidance and I love the way our choices affect him, even when it’s a case of the bridge scene. Hate the bridge scene knowing that I gotta sacrifice a character I care about for another I love, but I can’t deny that I love how that choice is made. After everything, do you trust AJ or not? 

Plus, their conversations are so well done, their chemistry is through the roof, and I wouldn’t change it. 

Oh, and the barn scene? Gets me every time, even though I already know everything’s fine and gonna work out. Still gets me. 

2. Clementine is Bisexual

I’ve talked about this in the past, but lemme just say that I love the fact that Clementine is canonically bisexual. 

Doesn’t matter if you’re dating Louis, Violet, or no one, Clementine is still bisexual. The game confirms it through it’s text/subtext and Clementine’s actions that we don’t have control over, and the devs confirmed it. She ain’t straight, she ain’t a lesbian, she is bisexual. 

I can’t express how happy that makes me. Just... 💗💜💙

And with her being bisexual comes her two great love interests: Louis and Violet. They’re amazing, and such an improvement over the previous game’s attempt at love interests... ahem, y’know... Kate.

1. Louis as a character/his relationship with Clementine 

I mean... c’mon. Y’all knew what #1 was gonna be. Do I even need to explain? This entire blog is just me gushing about Louis/clouis. 

Look, Louis is my favorite non-playable character across the entire series. Hell, even when you factor in playable characters, he’s STILL my absolute favorite. Like, even outside of his relationship with Clementine, I find him to be such a compelling character by himself. 

Like I mentioned above, he came from a stupid rich family who gave him everything he ever wanted, but when his father wouldn’t let him take singing lessons, he literally worked for over a year to break up his parents marriage because “you get to be happy or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” 

He gets sent to Ericson where the apocalypse happens, he never gets to make up with his parents, and he ends up using jokes and piano as a coping mechanism to deal with everything, falls into a cycle of being unreliable and the butt of the joke, and lives one day at a time without much thought for the future. 

He puts on the happy jokester persona to push people away from knowing the real him and rarely shares much about himself. Hell, when Clementine does hunting and decides to take care of the walker with him, he actually does let down the wall for a minute to share his view on “this moment” before looking away like “Oof, shared too much-- HEY, GO CHECK ON AASIM :D I’LL BE OVER HERE :D FIXING THE TRAP :D and adjusting the wall ahem--” 

It’s so interesting because you’d think that he’d be more open about his past with Marlon or the twins or whatever [like Violet is] but no, he doesn’t tell you shit about his past until EPISODE 3 and you have to work to get that story. 

I just... I just love him. Could talk about and analyze his character for hours. And I love his relationship with Clementine. It’s just so good. The piano scene where they finally admit their feelings for one another?? That shit has my entire heart. Their entire relationship is my favorite. What else is there to say? 

[hopelikethemoon]

first time (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: first time Rating: PG-13 Length: 2200 Warnings: Light descriptions of medical procedures related to pregnancy.  Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in January 1997.  Summary: Reader and Javier visit the obstetrician.

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito@rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex@ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico​ @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted@randomness501​@fioccodineveautunnale​ @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim​@amarvelousmandalorian​ @lukesrighthand​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Javier was more anxious than the heavily pregnant women sitting around the waiting room. He hated waiting rooms and you couldn’t blame him. It had taken him awhile to talk to you about the day Josie was born — you hadn’t known that the hospital had separate waiting rooms, that they’d added insult to injury. Waiting rooms took him back to Colombia and with that came a lot of baggage he hadn’t fully unpacked yet. 

“Peña?” You hadn’t taken his name and you had no plans to at the moment — but the baby was. 

“That’s us.” You nudged Javier, taking his hand into yours. 

Everything in your life was under your own surname — your diploma, your certificates, and everything else. But you knew how much it ate him up inside that Josie hadn’t carried his name until you moved back to the states. You didn’t want this pregnancy to carry the same trauma. 

Javier’s brows drew together as the nurse guided you down the hallway to the room. “Why—“

“Because I asked.” You told him, squeezing his hand tightly before you released it to sit down on the edge of the examination table. 

The nurse went through your medical records; checked your blood pressure and temperature, took blood for testing, all before leaving you to change into a gown. 

“You did all of this alone with Josie?” Javier questioned as he draped your clothes over the back of the chair he was sitting in, moving to help you with the closure of your gown.

You nodded slowly, “I’m glad you’re here this time.” You whispered, brushing your fingers over his cheek before stealing a quick kiss. “Maybe we’ll find out what we’re having today.”

“Are you far enough along for that?”

“I think so.” You smiled at him, stroking your hand over your belly before you resumed your position on the examination table. “When the doctor gets here, there’s a few other tests they’ll do.” You explained to him. “But then they’ll do the sonogram.”

Javier dragged his fingers through his hair and sank back into his seat. “Thank you.” He offered softly.

“Hmm?”

“For the little things.” His lips twitched upwards at the corners. You knew exactly what he was talking about. Peña. You wanted to make this easier for him this time around. To let him enjoy every little part of your pregnancy. 

You smiled at him, “You’re welcome.”

The doctor arrived shortly after, going over your chart with you and everything the nurse had written down. Your blood pressure was a little high, but the doctor wasn’t too concerned considering that you were at the doctor’s office. Despite having had no issues with Josie, the doctor recommended a transvaginal ultrasound, just to ensure that everything was in working order. Mostly because you had struggled to conceive this time around. Just to rule out potential complications.

Javier stood beside you, gripping at your hand as he watched the monitor. “Is that—“

“A very healthy little baby.” The doctor answered, readjusting the device within you until the monitor displayed the baby clearly. 

You watched Javier’s face, the way his bottom lip trembled as the doctor adjusted the settings and the soft and steady lub-dub of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room. He sniffed, trying his best not to cry.

“First time father?” The doctor questioned, as she took a few notes. 

“No.” Javier shook his head. “I missed a lot with our first.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he stared at the monitor. “Is it too soon to find out what we’re having?” He looked at you, “You want to know?”

You nodded, looking towards the monitor then. 

“It’s a little early, we typically check at around twenty weeks.” She adjusted the ultrasound wand, trying to get a better picture on the monitor. “You’re right at around fifteen weeks. Let’s see what we can find out from a sonogram.” She withdrew the device. “Relax while I get it set up.”

Javier reached out and brushed a lock of hair off your forehead, fingers playing over your cheek. “That was… I feel like a fucking idiot calling it magical.”

You laughed, wiping at your eyes as you felt tears burning there. “Your face was everything.” You beckoned him closer for a kiss. “I think I fell a little more in love with you, Javi.” 

“How long have you two been together?” The doctor questioned as she flipped through your notes, before pulling the sonogram towards the bed, hooking up all the wires into the monitor. 

“We’ve known each other for ten years.” You offered, resting your hand on your stomach. “Our daughter will be five in May.” 

“How exciting.” She smiled at both of you. “Based on fetal size, it looks like you’ll be having another baby in May.” 

Javier chuckled, “It’s a good month.” He interlaced his fingers with yours, eyes drawn back to the monitor as the doctor smeared the jelly on your stomach and pressed the wand against your skin. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room again and his grip tightened on you. 

“Everything looks very good for your baby. Healthy development.” She pointed at the monitor. “They’re a little shy.” 

“Look at their hand!” Javier’s eyes lit up and it was hard for you to look at the sonogram when he was beside you. You wondered if he would’ve been like this with Josie. There were so many wounded feelings back then, would it have tempered his enthusiasm? But despite the things that held you back, he had been all in from the start. 

“Well Mr. and Mrs. Peña, it looks like you’re having another little girl.” The doctor informed you, pointing to something on the monitor that indicated what you were having. You didn’t even mind that she had mistakenly considered the two of you married — it probably had to do with the ring he wore from Christmas. “Congratulations.” 

“Another little girl, baby.” Javier lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. 

“Your future is full of princess dresses, Javi.” You laughed, blinking back tears of joy. “Poor Steve!”

“You know he’ll just tell us to call her Stephanie.”

“No!” You snorted, shaking your head. 

The doctor cleaned your stomach off and left to give you privacy to change back into your clothes. “The nurse will give you the images on the way out.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” Javier told you as he helped you change.

You felt a faint blush spread over your cheeks under his praise. “What? For giving you another little girl to spoil?” 

Javier combed his fingers through his hair. “You’re stronger than anyone has ever given you credit for.” He sat back down in the chair, rubbing at the back of his neck. “You did all of this alone. And you never… you never complained.” 

“You did everything alone too.” You reminded him. 

“But I wasn’t the one carrying life in me.” He shrugged and laughed a little. “Baby, I’m just in awe of you.” 

“You’re going to make me cry.” You scolded him lightly, shaking your head as you sniffled. “Come on, let’s go. I promised Josie ice cream.”

“You promised yourself ice cream.” Javier laughed, dragging his hand over his mouth. “I think it’s finally set in that we’re having another kid.”

You gestured to your stomach, “You couldn’t tell?”

“You’re pregnant?” Javier feigned surprise and you groaned and rolled your eyes. 

“You’re such an asshole.” You smacked his arm as you walked down the hallway. “Why do I love you again?”

“I’m still trying to figure that one out.” Javier shrugged. “Why do you?”

You thanked the nurse as you checked out and passed the sonogram pictures to Javier to hold onto. “I think it might have something to do with the fact that you’re an asshole, actually.” You took his hand into yours as you headed for the parking lot. “I think I might be a bit of a masochist.”

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth, “Really?” He moved to open the passenger door for you, “I’m a little disappointed to find this out while you’re—”

“Still perfectly capable of kicking your ass?”

“That is sadism.” 

“Damn.” You grinned at him, “I knew it was an -ism.” 

“You think Josie’s going to be excited that she’s getting a baby sister?” 

You rested your hand on your stomach, smiling at Javi. “She did ask Santa for a baby sister.” 

“She got everything she asked for.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

You reached across and stole his aviator’s off his shirt. “Lucky kid, a Buzz Lightyear action figure, a baby sister, and a PlayStation that has suspiciously not been played by the kid yet.” You gave him a look over the aviators before you pushed them up the bridge of your nose. 

“Crash is a fun game.” Javier shrugged, reaching over to give your leg a squeeze. “Pretty sure someone else has been playing Tomb Raider… Who could that be?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, rubbing your hand over your stomach. “It’s relaxing.” You sank back against your seat and glanced out the window, your fingers idly playing with the necklace around your neck. “I want to name her after your mother.”

“Baby,” He reached and gave your leg another squeeze. “What about your side? Josie’s already named for my abuela.” 

You rested your hand over his and turned to look at him with a warm smile, “You talk about her all the time with Josie.” You reminded him, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “I was already thinking about this months ago, when the likelihood felt bleak. But I was really hoping we would have a girl.” You took his hand off your leg and rested it against your stomach, “Aside from not wanting a son named Steve, it just felt like the right thing. Sofía is a beautiful name.” 

Javier pulled the car up to a stoplight and turned to meet your eyes. “You never cease to amaze me.” 

You screwed your face up and brushed his hand away, laughing as you feigned disgust. “You’re being a sap. Is this what I missed out on for three months?”

“You have no idea.” Javier shook his head, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. 

You watched him with a smirk quirking at the corners of your lips. “So when were you going to tell me about the glasses?”

“What?” Javier swallowed nervously.

“The glasses, old man.” You raised your brows. “You have dents in your nose that don’t fit your aviators.”

“You’re not allowed to be that observant.”

“It’s literally my job to be observant.” You snorted, clicking your tongue against your teeth twice. “So.”

Javier huffed and shook his head. “They're for reading.” He glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes. “And I wasn’t keeping it a secret.”

“We’ve already established that you’re a terrible secret keeper.” You teased, rubbing your hand over your stomach as you chuckled. “Are you going to let me see them?”

“They make me look old.”

“Javi, neither of us are getting any younger.” You reminded him, reaching out to give his shoulder three little squeezes. “Show me later?”

He worked his jaw slowly before sighing, “Sure.”

“Have your students seen you in them?”

“Maybe.” His brows drew together as he gave you a pointed look. “They’re just glasses, baby.”

“I know they are, but I’m a little offended that you weren’t going to let me see them. And don’t argue, I’m pregnant. I’m allowed to be offended.” 

“I’m still impressed you figured out that I had glasses.” Javier shook his head with a short laugh. 

“You’ve been squinting for the past six months.” You shrugged a shoulder. “And then there’s the dents on your nose.” You reached across the center console and brushed your thumb over one of the faint marks. Javi caught your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your palm. 

“Are you watching me, Mrs. Peña?” Javier quipped as he put the car into park on the street outside of Steve and Connie’s townhome. 

“Don’t even.” You grinned at him. “I figured since Josie was almost one when she finally became your daughter, that you’d appreciate it from the beginning this time.” 

“I did.” And given the look on his face, you had a feeling that acknowledgment ran even deeper for him. Joséfina and Sofía were both lucky little girls to have him as their father. After everything that went down in Colombia — this was the life you both deserved. 

Javier got out of the car first, walking around to open your door and help you out (even though you didn’t really need help). “You know,” You started as you looked towards Javi with a slightly teasing grin, “Since it seems like this thing between us is going to last…”

“Just now realizing that?” Javi gave your ass a playful swat, before he caught your hand. “What is it?”

“I really like the idea of having our own yard.” You gestured to the front of the Murphy’s townhome. The sidewalk leading to the front door was covered his chalkart from Olivia, Emily and Josie. 

His brows rose upwards as he turned to look at you, “Before or after the baby comes?”

“We could start looking.” You shrugged a shoulder. “See if anything feels like home.”

Javier curled his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. “You know where home is for me.” 

“Such a sap.” You swatted his chest playfully. “I love you.” 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his hand moving to your stomach. “I love you both.”

[dindjarindiaries]

Collide - Chapter 5

summary: Bella tries to remember what happened the night before, and fails to seek answers from the one person who knows them.

warnings: vomiting, angst, trauma, sexual talk

rating: R

word count: 3.840k

masterlist

chapter 5

You wake up the next day with nothing but regret—and a hangover from hell.

The good part of your morning is spent hunched over the toilet in your clothes from the night before. Your head feels much too heavy for your body, and you try to clear the fog to figure out how the hell you ended up back home—but you can barely even make a coherent thought. Thankfully, the three of you managed to get today off work as if by a stroke of luck, and so you don’t have to try to suffer your way through a work day in such a horrible state. Once you’re sure you’ve emptied out at least half of your guts and managed to pay for your dumb decisions the night before, you finally stand up and make a bolder attempt to get things straight. You hop in the shower, hoping the water will also wash your mind clean, but only get part of the way there by the time you’re slipping into your most comfortable clothes.

It’s when you’re making your light breakfast of toast that it starts coming back to you. You’re sipping gingerly at the water in your glass when you remember the same glass sitting on your bedside table this morning. You have no idea how it got there, or who could’ve put it there, but you assume it was by whoever managed to get you home. The last thing you can remember is dancing with Connie, and even that’s a little fuzzy. But the rest isn’t. You wish it was, because all your mind decides to remind you of is the way Javier was dancing with that stranger.

She’s probably in his bed right now, you think, scoffing to yourself as you take another sip of water. You try not to empty your stomach once again at the utter thought of it.

The sound of your toast popping up scares you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit as you turn around. You chuckle at yourself and shake your head as you lightly butter it and start to chew on it, not necessarily wanting to do so but also knowing you need to get something in your stomach. It’s starting to drive you more and more insane that you don’t know how you got home. You assume it was Connie with the assistance of Steve, since Javier was too wrapped up in his conquest of the night, but you agonize yourself at the thought of what you could’ve said along the way. You never get drunk—it messes with your ability to control yourself and the situations you’re put in—so you’re fearful you let something risky slip while you were blacked out.

Knowing you can’t wait any longer for confirmation, you finish your toast quickly and reach for your pair of sunglasses, using them to try to ease your headache as you leave your apartment. You choose to ignore the fact that you’re solely in a pair of athletic shorts and an oversized college t-shirt as you make your way up the stairs, knocking at Steve and Connie’s door before you can convince yourself to leave them alone.

Connie’s thankfully the one who answers, her eyes widening as she sees you. “You’re alive!” she exclaims jokingly, causing you to laugh lightly. “But I can tell it’s a miracle.”

“Yeah, you can say that again,” you mutter, thanking her as she lets you into the apartment. You look around, furrowing your brow when you don’t see your partner. “Is Steve here?”

“No, he’s runnin’ errands with Olivia right now,” Connie informs you. “He was beggin’ to get out of the apartment for somethin’ other than work.” You nod understandingly, sitting at the counter as Connie raises an eyebrow. “Did you need him?”

“Oh, no, not really,” you assure her. You clear your throat, swallowing your pride as you accept the glass of water she’s poured for you. “I just, well, I need someone to fill me in.”

Connie tilts her head at you. “Fill you in?”

You bite your lip, running one hand over your neck in your nervous manner as your other hand grips the glass of water. “I… don’t remember anything after we danced.”

Connie’s gaze flashes with understanding. “Oh, I see.” She giggles to herself, taking a sip of her coffee as she gives you an impressed expression. “You surprised me with that, I can’t lie. I didn’t take you for the type.”

You exhale deeply as you release your neck and the glass, dipping your fingers under your sunglasses as you run your hands over your face. “I’m not. Last night was a rare occasion.” You reopen your eyes to see Connie’s expression morph into something more of sympathy.

“Already feelin’ the toll of work?”

You scoff. “That’s one way to put it.” You pause, studying Connie from behind your sunglasses for a quick moment as you ponder going on. She’s already become quite the confidante for you during your first week, and you know she doesn’t have anyone else to tell about your troubles—aside from Steve. But you feel that if you make it obvious you don’t want him to know, she won’t tell. So, with a deep breath, you decide to push forward. “It was because of my partner.”

Connie’s brow furrows. “I’m gonna assume you don’t mean my husband.”

“That’s a correct assumption.”

“So, Javi, then?” When you nod, Connie’s gaze flashes with remembrance—and a look of panic that you don’t necessarily like. The latter reaction, however, disappears quickly, and you choose to ignore it as she goes on. “Oh, yeah, I saw him, too. But that’s not out of the ordinary. Must’ve been weird for you, though.”

You shake your head, taking a sip of your water as you prepare yourself to fill her in. “Connie, it wasn’t just ‘weird.’ It was… well, heartbreaking.” When Connie gives you a look of confusion, you continue elaborating. “There’s a part of my and Javi’s story that you haven’t heard yet. But, please, don’t tell anyone.”

Connie lifts her hands in mock surrender. “I’ve got no one to tell but a man who probably won’t care to hear it, girl. Go for it.”

You snort at her comment, clearing your throat before speaking again. “Javi and I were best friends growing up, just like I told you. When high school came around, though, everything changed for me. I realized that I felt—well, much different than I did before. It was tormenting, really, to see him go through other relationships and also suffer through some of my own, knowing where my heart truly was. And then… senior prom rolled around.” You pause, feeling your chest get heavy as you recount the night that used to be so perfect to you—and now is so tainted. “We went together. As friends—I thought. And then we danced together, and we kissed, and we started acting like a couple, and then we… you know…”

Connie covers her hand with her mouth to suppress a gasp. You give her a knowing nod.

“I thought we’d be together after that. But Javi pretended that nothing ever happened, and I played along until just before he left for college. Our confrontation didn’t go as well as expected, and that’s the last time I saw him until a week ago.” You bite your lip for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts and emotions. “No matter how many years passed by, though, my heart stayed with him. I fuckin’ hate the fact that I can’t get rid of him. And now, having him back in my life, but having to see what I saw last night…” You trail off, shaking your head as Connie gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” You smile a bit when Connie reaches a hand over to grab one of yours. “That’s real tough. I had no idea you two were that close.”

“I tried not to make it obvious,” you confess with a curt chuckle.

“Well… that explains a lot of the reason why Steve kept sensin’ tension.” Connie lets out a deep breath, and her eyes suddenly widen as she releases your hand. You feel alert at her change in demeanor, and you almost start to question it until she tells you herself. “Oh shit, girl, I hope you’re not a chatty drunk.”

You furrow your brow. “Why?”

Connie swallows hard. “Javi’s the one who took you home last night.”

Your heart practically leaps into your throat upon hearing her words. Javi? you ask yourself. But I thought he was with the woman. Why wouldn’t he have brought her home? “Really?”

Connie nods. “Steve asked him to, because we thought out of the three of us, he’d know the best way to take care of you. But if you got drunk because of him, and then you were talkin’ when you were with him and let it slip, I…” Connie trails off, and she doesn’t have to say anything else. Your fears are now laid out on the table.

“Fuck,” you curse, gripping your hair in your hands as you lean your elbows against the counter. “Oh my fuck, Connie, what if I said some dumb shit? We just came to a kind of truce and made it through the week, and what if I messed it up?”

“I’m sure it’s fine, sweetheart. We’re probably just stressin’ for no reason. You seemed pretty far gone when you left me.”

You shake your head, knowing all the frustrations that lay deep within your chest and would gladly jump out at Javier if you had the chance or the confidence. You don’t get drunk often—at all—but you do know that your confidence while drunk skyrockets, which means you might’ve actually had the balls to say something potentially damaging to Javier.

Before you have a chance to respond to her words of comfort, a knocking suddenly sounds at the front door. Connie excuses herself as she disappears into the hallway, and you listen as she pauses to look through the peephole and then unlocks the door. The voice that reverberates off the walls hits you directly in your chest, and you soon find yourself practically stumbling out of your chair as you dare to approach them.

“… seen her?” you pick up part of Javier’s extremely panicked words. “She’s not in her apartment, and I know that in her state, she wouldn’t have been able to get far—.” Javier stops when he looks beyond Connie to see you as you finally pop into the hallway. You try to still your heart as it thuds against your chest upon seeing his expression of pure worry—for you. He’s still in an outfit he would typically wear to work, and you would wonder if he ever wore anything else at all if you weren’t so wrapped up in the fact that he’s pursuing you. “Bella,” Javier finally breaks the tense silence, his voice sounding like a gasp of relief. “I… you scared me, there.”

“Sorry,” you manage to say meekly in response. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

Another silence persists, and this time it’s only broken by Connie as she clears her throat and gestures back towards the kitchen. “Do you want to come in for a drink or something, Javi? Steve’s out right now, but he should be back soon.”

You never break your gaze with Javier, trying to convince him to come in so you can clear your conscience about the night before with him. But all you see in his gaze is a flash of further fear, regret, and pain, and you know he’s not going to stay. On top of that, you know you must’ve said something utterly terrible to him last night, because the only other time you’ve seen his eyes flash like that is when you told him you never wanted to see him again. “I’m alright,” Javier finally dismisses Connie’s offer in his usual gruff voice. “I’ve got some errands to run. But thanks, anyway.” Connie nods, and Javier gives you a curt nod as well. “I’m glad you’re okay, bella.” With that, he turns away to leave.

Before he can go too far, you hurry over to the door, stepping outside to call to Javier where he’s descending the stairs. “Javi!” you exclaim, and he turns around quickly to face you. Your stomach sinks at the way his gaze practically begs you to let him go. “Thank you. For taking care of me last night.”

Javier simply gives you another nod, turning back around to finish going down the stairs. You try to swallow the lump in your throat as you retreat into Connie’s apartment, practically falling against the counter dramatically when you get there. Connie follows you with a grimace.

“Shit!” you curse angrily, feeling Connie place a comforting hand on your shoulder. You meet her gaze to find her sympathy, and you let out a heavy sigh as you shake your head at her. “I know I said something bad. I could see it written all over him.” You bite your lip, not wanting to dwell on the dark thought you’re conceiving of but having to face the reality of it. “If I didn’t ruin things all those years ago, then I definitely managed to do it, now—after only a week.”

Connie shakes her head as she invites you to sit back down, instead changing the subject as she tries her best to get your mind off things. But it’s too late—you’re already sinking into the black hole you’ve created for yourself. You’d broken things before you even had a chance to fix them, and that’s something you’re not sure you can ever forgive yourself for.

Later that night, you’re going onto your countless hour of despaired solitude, only able to sit on your couch and stare endlessly into the television screen as your mind continues to torment you. You’re still not sure what you said to Javier that made him feel so hurt and afraid. There are too many possibilities, and you don’t want to start considering which one you went for. Each one you manage to think of brings a sharp pain to your chest, so you decide to keep burying them deep inside and hope that he’s just gotten upset over something trivial.

Your thinking’s interrupted by the sound of clattering coming from the hallway. Immediately, you reach for the remote and turn off the television, freezing in place as you tune your ears into whatever could be going down. When you hear more chaos, you practically leap off the couch and hurry to your peephole, looking through to see if you can get a view of what’s going on. Your stomach twists into terrible knots when you finally observe the scene. All it takes is seeing an unfamiliar woman walk through the door of Javier’s apartment for you to understand what’s happening—and hope you don’t have to hear it, like Steve once said you might.

But you don’t even have to hear anything for the memories to start back up like clockwork, ticking to the sounds of the flashback you can never get out of your head.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this?”

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you lean your back against the door. You’re trying to shake it from your head, but you can’t—especially as you further picture what could be happening right down the hall.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, cariño.”

I should’ve said no, you lament to yourself. I should’ve fucking said no. You manage to make it over to your couch again, resting your elbows on your knees as you let your face fall into your hands. Your heart is screaming at you to remember anything, literally fucking anything, other than what your mind’s choosing to right now, but it’s got a chokehold on you. Now that you’re aware of what Javier’s up to, you can only picture that moment when you were in the same position.

“You’re doing amazing, bella. Fuck—you’re doing so good.”

You can hear his voice so clearly in your head. Still trying to be mindful of the migraine that’d radiated through your head for most of the day but needing to force something out of it, you take your hair in your fists and give it a firm tug.

“Eres mi princesa, bella—siempre. Good girl—God, you’re so beautiful. You always have been.”

They were lies! you want to scream aloud. They were all fucking lies! The way he’d comforted you, made you feel so special, and even murmured a forever—it was all bullshit. You know he’s probably saying the same exact things to the woman you’ve just seen.

“Javi… cariño… I—fuck—I—.”

“Shhh, I know, bella. I know, mi amor.”

Thank God he hadn’t let you say it. But having the audacity to follow it up with those promising words of mi amor makes you want to punch the wall. Upon hearing that for the first time, you truly thought everything was going to change—and instead, you’re here many years later, knowing he’s calling a stranger the same thing just a few feet away down the hall.

The voices have just started to fade into the feeling of your skin burning underneath his tender touch when another commotion outside your door interrupts you. Thankful for the distraction from your torment, you hop up from the couch and head for the peephole—already hearing a female yelling something in Spanish. Sure enough, when you look outside, you see the same woman from before storming out of Javier’s apartment and heading for the door to the outside. You raise an eyebrow, wondering how such a sudden turnaround could’ve happened.

You release a breath you never realized you were holding, glad that the memory’s starting to fade away as you head for the couch again. You stop, however, when you hear a hesitant knocking at your door. A pit forms in your stomach, and you turn around slowly to face the door yet again. You’re pretty certain of who’s standing there, and you’re not sure you’re ready to face them after the chaos they just unleashed on your mind. As soon as you open the door, however, you’re at their mercy—feeling your heart sink at the sight of their dark gaze brimming with unshed tears.

“Cariño,” you whisper, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. You attempt to push past the fact that half his shirt’s unbuttoned, his lips are more swollen than usual, and his hair’s in quite a disarray, solely wanting to make him feel at ease. “What’s wrong?”

Javier shakes his head, biting his lip to keep himself from releasing the tears that still fill his eyes. You let out a soft breath and gesture towards the couch, seeing him head towards it with relief as you close the door behind him. You sit beside him gingerly, your gaze never leaving him. He’s leaning his elbows on his knees as his clasped hands rest over his mouth, his eyes looking endlessly into your coffee table. No matter how painful your latest memories of him have been, or how afraid you are of whatever you said to him last night, it absolutely devastates you to see him like this—so you let your hand fall on his back as your thumb rubs soothing circles over it.

“How can I help you, Javi?”

Javier blinks once, his gaze never moving as he finally rests his hands below his chin and offers an answer. “You can’t.” His gruff voice is broken, and the sound of it makes your heart absolutely shatter.

“Why not?” You keep your question gentle, to avoid provoking him by mistake.

“Because.” Javier pauses, taking a shaky breath before he finally looks over at you. The same fear, pain, and regret from earlier is in his gaze, and you wish you could just make it all disappear. “I don’t deserve it.”

You grimace, your hand slowly falling from his back. “Javi—.”

“I brought a woman in,” Javier cuts you off, clenching his jaw as he stares at something beyond you, “wanting to use her like I always do. To forget shit. To avoid it. But this time, fuck, all I could remember was you saying that I made you feel like a whore that one night, and I… I couldn’t help thinking, what if I make all of them feel like that? Because it seems I’ve sure as fuck made myself out to be just that.”

Your whole body goes cold, and you can barely speak around the lump in your throat as you dare to respond. “When did I say that?”

Javier’s gaze returns to yours, and you can see the horror he feels upon hearing your words. “Last night,” he breathes. “You don’t remember that?”

You shake your head. “I don’t remember anything after dancing at the bar, Javi.”

Javier looks away from you. “Fuck,” he curses to himself. “Fuck.”

You start to panic, realizing that this is the thing you’ve been dreading all day. “Look, Javi, I was drunk, and you know I don’t get drunk often. I probably didn’t even know what I was saying.”

“That was some pretty deep bullshit to have made up on the spot, bella.” Javier’s gaze snaps back to you, and those same three emotions are present in his eyes. “You don’t need to lie to me. I heard all your pain myself.” Upon saying that, you see his eyes widen slightly, and he stands up from the couch in a rush. You rise after him, watching as he rubs his hands on his thighs nervously and looks towards the door. “I don’t know why I came, I—I shouldn’t have come.” He looks at you quickly, averting your gaze as he gives you a nod. “Sorry.” Javier then takes off for your door, leaving you in a daze as you try to follow him.

“Wait, cariño!” you exclaim, trying to keep him from fleeing. He’s fast, however, and you only have time to get to your door when you see him walking back into his apartment and no doubt locking the door behind him. “Shit.” You slam your door closed and rest your forehead against it, closing your eyes and chewing your lip as you try to bury the sudden pain and confusion that’s rushed on like a wave.

You’re confident that you’ve managed to ruin your attempt at a second chance with Javier before you could even try to start it—and, in the process, contributed to the further damaging of his self-image. So much for leaving the shitshow in Texas.

chapter 6

translations:

Eres mi princesa, bella—siempre = You’re my princess, beautiful, forever

tags: @tarrevizslas @none-of-your-bullshit @lavenderl3mons @gooddaykate @flower-petal-blooming @stilllivindue2spite @mrsparknuts @fionnthebandersnacc @pisss-offf-ghostt @gaydreamland @longitud-de-onda @literallytrashhhhhh @kkgraham @arrowswithwifi @rage-isaquietthing @awesomefandomsunited @theforceofdarkandlight @murdermewithbooks @blushingwueen @rachelloveseveryone @madadlorian @ah-callie @mrsdaamneron @lokiaddicted @arcadianempress @benakenalove @wickedfrsgrl @pascalisperfect @absurdthirst @weirdowithnobeardo @lcandothisallday @sailorflowermoon @engineeredfiction @souls-rain @kaylaylaylayla @cailoleaf @unintentionalwriter @earthtokace @starwarsiscooliguess @xxlovingfandomsxx @theindiealto @mikahid @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @youhavereachedtheendofpie @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

[pascalpanic]

Josie! congrats on 1000 followers thats so cool! I adore your writing so much, caffeine rush is my comfort fic 🥰

about me? well I am 5'2 and about medium build, merlot dyed hair but I am a natural dark brunette. I am a libra so I love getting dolled up with painted nails, blown out hair and I love earrings and perfume, but I really do love to listen to people talk about their passions. I really enjoy learning about astrology, I can read tarot cards and I am a bit superstitious. I am the mom friend! i always have snacks and extra tampons in my purse and I remind my friends to eat on time and also call them out on their bs 😅I am an ISFP and I dont like it when people trauma dump on me or when people are not honest with their feelings with me. Right now I am trying to improve my spanish even more with music and tv and possibly a class! 😘

omg thank you so mucH!!!! ngl sometimes caffeine rush feels like a scream into an empty void but I’m so honored you like it :_)

I would ship you with Javier Peña!

Javi loves seeing you get all dressed up so he can take you out and show you off. He almost borders on sugar-daddy-esque sometimes with how much he’ll let you buy whatever you want on his credit card, but hey, are you gonna complain? Nope. He really loves watching you get ready. He thinks your makeup rituals are so fascinating and intricate.

Javi doesn’t really believe in astrology but it’s kind of fun to him. I always HC him as a Scorpio sun I mean come on now. He appreciates the fact that you’re always prepared and willing to kind of care for him, because he really needs it. He’s busy and tired and he’s only not busy when he’s sleeping. Please make this man have a solid sleep schedule!

He will never ever trauma dump on you until you ask for it, because to love Javier in his entirety you really have to know his history. He’d be a tough one to break emotionally, but once the dam breaks, it never goes back in. It would be hard to get through to him emotionally at first, but once he really trusts you he’ll be very open and communicative. 

it’s a party! send me a request and I’ll ship you with a Pedro character!

[thefifthsister-notactive]

Moon & Back

Spoilers for several Nikki Heat books!!

Future Fic!

The sound of her phone ringing broke through sleep and she heard her husband grumble.

“If that’s Jake again tell him we’ll send bail in the morning,” he moaned in his sleep and roll over away from the offending sound. Kate grabbed her phone, blinking an eye open and saw the face of her daughter lighting up the screen.

“It’s Lily.” Kate was wide awake now and worried. Castle sat up as she did and listened to her answer.

“Lily? You okay sweetheart?” Kate asked.

“Hi Mom. I’m not in jail or anything, promise. I’ll leave the trouble making to Dad and the boys,” Kate relaxed. “I know it's late there. I just…”

“Feeling a little homesick?” Kate relaxed back against the headboard, hearing it in her daughters voice. She exchanged a look of relief with her husband. It was hard for them, having their girl on the other side of the country.

“And needed my Mom... Go on, gloat.” Lily teased.

Kate mouthed ‘girl talk’ to her husband who smiled and nodded, laying back in bed and was happy to go back to sleep knowing his daughter was okay.

“You’ll never be too old to need me, little flower,” Kate teased right back. “You know you can call me anytime. What’s on your mind?”

Kate grabbed her robe and slipped into the office, settling herself into an armchair.

“Just missing home a little. I miss you. And Dad. Alexis and Eve. Even PB & J.”

“Well, I’d be happy to send your brother’s out there. As I recall there’s plenty of floor space in your dorm room for them.” Kate heard her daughter huff. “I’m serious. Your Dad and I could use the Loft to ourselves.”

“Gross. Besides, you’re worse than Dad. You’d be lost without the boys.”

Kate smiled. Yeah, turned out when Lily left for college she’d been worse than Castle, but she’d tried to do a better job at hiding it then he had.

“I love you three and as your mother I’m allowed to be overbearing. Believe me, Grandpa and Grandma did the same to me when I went to Stamford.” She felt the mood shift. “Lil?”

“I just finished reading Heat Storm,” Lily suddenly announced.

“You did?”

“Don’t tell Dad. I’ll never hear the end of it,” Lily laughed. He’d been outraged when Lily had said she’d never read the Heat books, that it would be too traumatic to read books based on her parents. The fact she had a Steven King novel in her hand at the time had not softened the blow in the slightest either.

“I promise. It’s bad enough he knows I read them. Hasn’t let that drop for almost thirty years.”

“Did you wish that was what happened? With Grandma? I… you never really told me that whole story with… with the guys that went after her. After you.”

Kate swallowed. “Every day I wished I could see her just one more time. Tell her how proud I  was she was my Mom. How much I loved her. We’d had a tough time, your Dad and I, with how that turned out and he wanted to give me the one thing he knew he never could. He gave Nikki her Mom back because he couldn’t do that for me.” She wiped a tear that had escaped and could hear her daughter sniffle a little. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.”

“And how about the rest of the trauma?” Kate tried to make her laugh, aching for the miles apart to vanish so she could hold her little girl.

“I skipped over any of the gross parts,” Lily joked. “Is… I know Dad has always told me stories about you slaying dragons and we used to visit you but is that what it was like? You and Dad closing cases. Working with Uncle Javi and Uncle Kevin?”

“Lots of things in those books happened to us, but not everything was true. You know you’re Dad and his imagination.”

“Annnnnnd ew. Dad may have to write another book to cover my therapy now,” Lily laughed. 

“But yes, the way Nikki and Rook, Roach and Lauren work, that’s how we all worked together. We closed a lot of cases for the 12th.”

“And you and Dad really weren’t together when he wrote the first few?” Lily asked. Everyone was always skeptical about that part.

“Nope. We weren’t. He just finished Frozen Heat when we started dating. We got married just after he wrote Raging Heat and we had you just after Heat Storm. You can work out when you’re brothers came along after that. Though you’ll notice none of you or Alexis are in the series. He, we wanted to keep you all out of the public eye. It was bad enough your Dad dragged me into it,” Kate explained.

“I liked Rook proposing. Did you ever…?”

“Throw a drink at your Dad? No. I remember dumping the cup of ice chips in his lap when I was in labour with your brothers but that’s about as close as it came. You know how your Dad proposed. It was one of the least dramatic moments of our lives, all things considered, really.”

“Nikki’s cool.” Lily said when both their laughter wound down.

“Yeah?” Kate smiled.

“Yeah. You’re cooler though Mom.”

“Hang on a minute, I’m just gonna mark down the date and time and wake your Dad to tell him you said that.”

“Again with the gloating!” Lily whined. 

“You are too much like me sometimes kid,” Kate laughed. “I remember calling my Mom the first month I was away. You’re gonna be fine Lil.”

“I know.” Kate was happy to hear the confidence. Lily was headstrong, determined and smart. They knew she could handle this. 

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I’m proud you’re my Mom.”

“You, my little flower, have no idea how much I love you and how much you changed my life and your Dad’s life. We’re so proud of you.” Kate felt the emotion creeping into her throat.

“I’ll let you go back to bed,” Lily said.

“I can talk for a little longer if you need,” Kate said, not ready to let her girl go just yet. They talked for a little while longer about her week, her classes so far, the diner she’d found nearby that wasn’t quite as good as Remy’s but it would do and that they’d have to go when Kate and Castle came out to visit in a few months during his next book tour.

Lily yawned.

“Bedtime Lilypad,” Kate ordered. “I love you.”

“Love you too Mom.”

“Expect your Dad to call and check on you tomorrow morning.”

“I’d be worried if he didn’t. Good night.”

“Moon and back, Lil.”

“Moon and back.” 

Kate climbed back in bed with her husband, setting her phone next to her on the bedside cabinet and smiled at image of her little girl tucked up with a Richard Castle novel for company.

I was re-reading Heat Rises last night and had a lovely image of Lily reading the books when she missed her parents the first few weeks she went off to college but getting to Driving Heat and Heat Storm and getting a little upset over Johanna and her Mom.

[gainerstories]

Formerly Fit

Trigger Warning:

Non-consensual sex is a key element of this story and may be triggering for those who have survived sexual abuse.

Kent Worthwood was the most popular guy in high school, a total bully, and secretly a fag. I had the great luck of not only being Kent’s favorite victim, but also the illustrious role as his cum dumpster. He was a junior when I was a freshman, and I was the perfect target for him to unleash a constant slew of attacks stemming from his own internalized homophobia. He made my life a living hell for the two years we were in school together. He immediately noticed I was gay and disseminated this information to our entire conservative high school. He would push me around in the hallways, vandalize my car, and made sure everyone else followed suit.

Things got worse one night at a Homecoming after party. Everyone was drunk on cheap beer and as I was about to call a taxi home, Kent locked me in the bathroom and forced me to give him a blow job. He was much stronger than me and I was afraid that if I didn’t comply he’d beat me up worse than ever. Despite feeling afraid and violated I was also kind of turned on. I constantly feel guilty for the fact that to this day I still jerk off thinking about that night. After the blow job he said no one would believe me about what happened and that if I tried to go to my parents or the cops he would ruin me. I had no other option but to stay silent. Unfortunately, this one-off incident became a regular activity. By the time Kent graduated we had a solid routine. He would text me that he needed my mouth, and I would go over to his house. Each time he would be spread legged on the couch in the same position, surrounded by a cloud of pot smoke. I’d pull his basketball shorts down from his toned varsity track star waist and suck his cock until he came. Then I would leave. And no one would know.

I felt mixed emotions once he graduated and left town. On one hand, I was relieved. On the other, I missed his smell, the taste of his thick uncut cock, and that hazy room stinking of marijuana. I knew I had succumbed to Stockholm syndrome and that I was better off with him out of my life. Still, memories of that time would occasionally sprout up and send me into a masturbatory spiral of self-loathing.

I moved to New York City after I graduated to study graphic design. I finally got to spread my wings and date a variety of men who treated me with dignity and respect. I had new sexual experiences that made the memories of those strange high school years begin to fade. However, once I traveled home for the holidays they all came flooding back. It was a surreal experience returning to my hometown after living on my own for a whole year, but I figured that was part of growing up.

I was out shopping with my mom when I received a text message from an unknown number. It read: “Hey, this is Kent Worthwood from high school. I’d like to see you again if you’re in town. I live in the same house as before.”

My head began to spin. There was no way this was happening. I wanted to resist his beckoning but I was also intensely curious. Why had he moved back to town? What did he look like now? Was he following his dream of running in the olympics? Why was he still interested in me? Would his cock taste as good as in my fantasies? I asked my mom if I could go out after dinner that evening and she agreed. I texted Kent back and he seemed pretty excited that I would be stopping by. His language was so kind that I became suspicious and was struck with the fear that I may be walking into a trap. I knew I had to be cautious, but my curiosity was piqued and there was no way I could pass up this opportunity.

After dinner I took a shower and drove over to Kent’s house. I always found it strange that his parents were never around when I was there. I found it even more bizarre that he had moved back. I parked in front of the house and took a deep breath. I was unsure of what I’d be walking into and had even brought a pocket knife just in case. From my car I texted Kent that I had arrived and he replied that the door was unlocked. I slowly walked up to the front door, took one last deep breath, and turned the knob.

It felt like I was stepping back in time as I walked inside. The living room was so clouded with marijuana smoke that I could barely see. I could discern that the TV was on and playing Beavis and Butthead and that all of the furniture looked the same as it always had. I could faintly discern a figure sitting on the couch, spread legged, and exhaling a puff of smoke from a bong. I stepped closer and was utterly confused.

“Kent?”

“Hey, cutie. It’s been awhile.”

I was completely floored. Kent was barely recognizable. He had to have gained over a hundred pounds since I saw him last. His track star physique was long gone. From what I could tell he was sitting at about three hundred and fifty pounds. A giant beer belly filled his lap and poured into the space between thighs that were thick as tree trunks. Buoyant manboobs rested atop the mountain of fat protruding from his torso. His once chiseled features and square jaw had softened underneath chubby cheeks, scruff, and a prodigious double chin. His hair had grown long and was tied up in a disheveled man bun. Unless I was mistaken, he was wearing a pair of old basketball shorts from when we were in high school. The cellulite on his thighs filled the legs of the shorts completely. His T-shirt was similarly tight and left nothing to the imagination. It was also covered with food stains that traced the curve of his mountainous gut. Overall, it looked like Kent Wentworth had become something of a fat slob— a far cry from his high school days.

“I… You… look so different.”

“I know. Thanks for not calling me fat. I injured my leg in college and discovered that you can’t eat the way I do unless you’re running several miles a day. Who knew!” He chuckled.

“Yeah, uh… who knew.”

I didn’t know how to behave. I was used to him slinging insults and homophobic remarks at me. The last thing I expected was small talk.

“Hey, you wanna hit the bong?”

“I think I’m okay.”

“I won’t pressure ya!”

I nodded awkwardly. What was I supposed to say?

“I wanna apologize,” he said. “I bullied you a lot for being gay and I really regret that. I was under a lot of pressure from my dad to do well in sports and I was having a hard time reckoning with my own feelings… gay feelings, ya know. Especially with you. I was so attracted to you man, I mean fuck… but I guess you knew that.”

I tried to hide my fiery indignation. No, I didn’t know he felt that way. I thought he hated me and thought I was garbage. I was nothing more than a warm mouth for his bitter come. Although brimming with outrage and insecurity, I was still speechless and incapable of forcing words from my mouth. I simply shrugged.

“Anyway,” Kent continued, ”I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, Javi. Those were some good times we had, and I was wondering if you might wanna do what we did back then?”

I was angry and wanted to spit in his face and tell him how miserable he made me. I wanted to shout that I still have trauma from what he did. But being in that room was fucking with my head. My dick was already starting to get hard and I think I was getting a contact high. I stepped closer and noticed that a pizza box sat next to him on the couch. All the slices were gone except for one that had a few bites taken out of it. I walked closer until I was inches from the couch. I gazed at the changes his body had taken on. It was unbelievable the weight he had gained. Part of me was repulsed but as I stepped closer I could smell his intoxicating B.O. Without second thought I dropped to my knees.

“Yeah, that’s right. You missed this huge cock, huh you little faggot?”

I nodded in agreeance and began to tug at his shorts. I had to slide my fingers in between the fabric and his hairy dimpled thighs and was surprised to discover how supple and cushioned his legs felt. I don’t think I had ever touched someone so fat until that moment. Without standing up he lifted his waist up off the couch to allow me to pull his shorts off. The maneuver forced his chin deeper into his neck fat, making his face look like modeled pastry dough. It also made his T-Shirt ride up and reveal a furry belly covered in blazing red stretch marks. I yanked the shorts from his body and he plopped back down, causing his belly to bounce like a water balloon and the couch to creak as though it were on the verge of collapse.

His cock was already hard, but appeared much smaller than it had four years ago due to all the chub surrounding it. When we were in high school his erection would slap against his toned abdomen and point straight towards his face. Now his gargantuan belly pushed it forward, causing it to point directly at me. I put it in my mouth but soon realized I couldn’t create much friction with all the fat in my way. I pushed my mouth as deep as it could go, allowing my face to be encompassed by his belly, thighs, and FUPA. The familiar smell of his body caused my erection to quiver. He definitely had become smellier with all the extra weight on his frame. It was the same smell he had before, only intensified.

I realized my old cock sucking method was no longer effective for an overweight guy. To remedy this I lifted his belly up with both my hands so that I could better wrap my mouth around his member. When I did this I discovered how truly large his FUPA was. It was so big that his overgrown bush looked quaint in comparison to the stretch marks laying underneath it. I began to get to work, bobbing my head up and down as I held up his belly. My arms were beginning to grow tired so I sat back for a break. I noticed that he was chewing on the remaining slice of pizza while I sucked and I was surprised at this blatant gluttony. He seemed unashamed. After swallowing the pizza down he let out a large belch that smelled like Mountain Dew and cheese.

“No one sucks my cock like you, man. Fuck. Play with my nipples too.”

He lifted his belly so that I could slurp on his boner with ease while also diddling his man tits. They were soft like a woman’s, but also covered in hair. He began to moan louder and louder and I could tell that he was close to orgasm. His body began to tremble, sending his fat into a jiggling frenzy. He dropped his belly on my face with an audible plop and brushed my hands from his tits so he could take over. He pushed my head down with one hand as he began to pump his jizz down my throat. I couldn’t see because my face was obscured by all of his extra weight, causing my other senses to heighten. I could smell the distinct odor of the unwashed crease between his FUPA and belly, feel his sticky unwashed skin stuck to my face while soft fat bounced around it, and feel the come coursing through his cock and exploding into the back of my throat.

I peeled my face away when he was finished and we made awkward eye contact. He never used to look me in the eyes.

“Hey, you wanna stick around for pizza and a movie? I’ll make it worth your while?”

I declined and drove home. The house was dark and my parents were in bed. I stripped off my clothes and laid down. My cock was still hard as a rock from what had just transpired. I opened up my laptop and googled: “chubby gay porn.”