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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

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I Can't Help Myself (Epilogue)

Summary: Jake accidentally touches a cursed object while on a mission. Part 1. Part 2.

Author’s Note: This final part is bound to upset some people, but that’s okay. Reality can be whatever I want. Not proofread.

Word count: 4.5k I know I’m sorry.

Content: soft smut, lots of aftercare, inaccurate depiction of switches, dub-con per the nature of sex pollen, but much less dub-con than the previous two installments. [vibrating plugs, rope bondage, sexual nudity, then non-sexual nudity, baths, cuddling]

Time was passing too slowly.

Steven had fallen unconscious from exhaustion at around the nine-hours-left mark, but you knew he wouldn’t stay asleep for long. You could only sit and watch his slumber, anxiously awaiting his inevitable upset and dreading the likelihood of going through the entire affair over again. Nine hours. You’d never make it that long.

His rest offered you enough reprieve to do some chores around the apartment. There wasn’t much else you could do—you wouldn’t dare leave them alone here. You cleaned and you tidied and you organized until there wasn’t much left for you to scrutinize. It was barely past noon. The boys still had hours to go and you had no good solution to help them.

Tentatively, you crept back into the bedroom. Steven—or all three of them, technically—was still fast asleep atop the bed. The rope was still fastened around him, scratching his skin as he tossed slightly in his sleep. You hadn’t touched him at all since he’d passed out, save for laying him down and draping a blanket over him for comfort and modesty. Thankfully, and beautifully, he looked calm and relaxed in his slumber.

So, you started thinking ahead. There wasn’t much to do until Steven awoke, but then what would you do once he did? You would have to see the state he was in when the time came. One thing you could do while you waited, though, was prepare him a nice, warm meal to comfort him. He would wake sore and exhausted, no doubt. You migrated to the kitchen where you began to chop veggies to make soup. The meal would be vegan for Steven’s sake, but any of the boys would happily accept a hot bowl of potato soup if they happened to be the one at the front instead. The apartment was quiet—too quiet—but you wouldn’t dare risk turning on the television or radio and risk waking them up earlier. So you worked in near-silence.

The time chipped away slowly as you took on every possible household chore. Sweeping the floor? Half an hour. Organizing the books that Steven had left strewn about? Another fifteen minutes. Chopping veggies, making soup, and then doing the dishes as quietly as possible? Well, you weren’t quite done yet but still, you could only mark off another twenty or so.

All of the aromatics were on to boil and you decided again to peek into the bedroom. He was muttering in his sleep—Spanish, then English, then Spanish—and you wondered if the boys were talking to each other in the headspace. You hoped their dreams at least would be offering them some relief, since their body couldn’t provide it.

It was another hour then. The soup was turned to a simmer and the windows were open to let in the cool breeze and you slumped for an accidental nap in the office chair as you heard him softly snore.

Something woke you at the five-hour mark.

“Oh my God,” Steven mumbled dazedly. You were over by his side in a matter of seconds once you finally made sense of the noise that drew you from sleep. He craned his neck and crunched his eyes, groaning. “I feel horrible.”

He made little effort to fight against his bindings, much too tired and sensitive to pull and tug and crane his neck. You touched your hand lightly to his cheek, but said nothing as you slowly let him stir awake and come to whatever senses he had. He swallowed hard, obviously struggling against the fog in his brain, and you bore a soft, sympathetic smile.

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.” He grumbled and you cupped his chin with your palm. Steven looked to be more aware of himself than he had been before, though he was still much too calm for you to suppose that he was his normal self again. “What time is it?”

“It’s just passed two, baby.” You tried to soften your voice as much as you could. Steven’s face dropped when he did the mental math. Too many hours left. He immediately tensed against the ropes that bound him, a pitiful show of anger that he knew was futile. It took him all of five seconds to sink into resignation and relax against the bindings. You shuffled onto the bed beside him so that you could hold him to you. “You’re gonna be alright, I promise. I’m staying right here to take care of you. Anything you need, I’m here. We’re gonna get you through this.”

“I feel weird.”

“I know,” you hummed. He didn’t lean into your touch as you braced his body with your own. “The curse messes with your body and your brain. You’re not yourself, right? Marc was really giddy and cuddly when he woke up. Then he got really handsy and more aggressive and then, well, I suppose you know the rest.”

“Darling, no,” Steven urged, “I mean really weird. I don’t know how to explain.” He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, blinking and scrunching his nose and desperately trying to orient himself. “I don’t feel like all of that. Something is different. It’s like—It’s like a withdrawal. I’m craving…something. I don’t know what it is, though.”

“Well, if the past day has been any indication, I assume you want sex. That’s what this whole curse has been about, right?”

He turned to look into your eyes and you looked right back into his. His pupils weren’t dilated, but his eyes were wide and soft and desperate. They were glazed and detached even though he was looking right at you, almost looking into you. Steven’s face was inquisitive, but also something you couldn’t begin to identify. He tugged at the rope around his shoulders, as if he for a moment had forgotten it was there.

“No, it’s not that.”

“Well, maybe it’s food, then. Marc ate breakfast, sure, but the body’s had a workout since then. I’ve got potato soup on the stove.”

Steven nodded to you. Less of an ‘I agree’ nod and more like an ‘It’s worth a try’ sort of nod.

“I’m guessing you’re not gonna untie me first.” Steven laid his head back, tensing lazily against the rope.

“Sorry, baby. I don’t want to keep you like this, but I need to be safe.” You planted a slow, sweet kiss on his cheek and he blushed deeply before you got to your feet. The soup would certainly be ready by now, after your little siesta and all. Pulling out a deep bowl, one that almost looked more like a mug, you ladled a good serving for him. Steven scoffed as you returned to the bed with the bowl of soup in your hands. You sat it on the bedside table with a sympathetic stare.

You spread your fingers to wrap around the bindings on the center of his chest. Bracing his back with your opposite hand, you pulled Steven back up into a sitting position. He whimpered a little bit, and you remembered the plug still inside of him. You would deal with that later.

“Smells good.” He was trying to stay positive, but you could tell he was fighting both his impatience and his exhaustion. Steven opened his mouth reluctantly as you brought the spoon to his lips. Sweat was already beading on his forehead and he fell just a bit too relaxed as the warm food touched his tongue. You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. His eyes lit up a significant bit. “Tastes amazing.”

The reluctance dissipated as you continued to spoon-feed him. He looked at first like the experience was humiliating—which was perfectly fair, it most certainly was—but now he seemed much more accepting of it. The color returned to his face and the tension released from his shoulders as you made your way to the bottom of the bowl. Steven didn’t hide his little groans and hums of approval at the warm, delicious taste.

“Does that make you feel better, love?” It calmed you, too, to see him relaxed. Maybe the curse was wearing off early. He nodded dazedly.

You helped him finish off the bowl before grabbing him a glass of water. He looked indifferent as you pressed your fingers under his chin to tilt his head back, but he gulped the entire cup down in mere seconds. He must not have realized completely the state he was in.

“Darling,” he began tentatively, “how long do I have to stay like this?”

You averted your gaze from his pleading eyes, instead surveying his body. Steven’s abs protruded strongly as he was no doubt dehydrated. His skin was red and angry around the tightest parts of the rope, and the rest was cold and sweat-covered. Under the blankets, you could see that he wasn’t nearly as excited as he had been before. That was a good sign, at least.

“I think that it’s safe now,” you offered. His face brightened a bit. “You said you’re not craving sex, right?”

“That’s right, I’m not.”

“I can take most of these off, then. As long as you promise to tell me if you start to feel frisky again.”

“Of course! I promise.” Steven’s relief was tangible in the air. The rope to the left of his neck had rubbed his skin raw, drawing small crimson dots to the surface that had been most attacked. You turned your attention to the knot at the small of his back. The rope fought against your fingers as you rigged it apart.

He was still, obedient as you unwrapped the longest length of rope. Pain erupted in your chest as you saw just how damaged his skin had become. Between himself and Marc, the fighting against his restraints had left Steven in pretty rough shape. He winced as you pulled the braided length away from the raw surface of his skin. When it was almost entirely undone, Steven tentatively lifted his arms, a single strand still tied around his wrists. He groaned in pain as he tried to raise his elbows level to his head.

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“It’s alright. It’s for safety, innit? I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse.” He slowly tilted his head from side to side, no longer having resistance from the particularly tight rope along his collarbone. Taking a few deep breaths, he groaned again softly and crunched his eyes. “Can you turn the lights off?”

“I can,” you answered, already back on your feet. “Any particular reason?”

“They’re just too bright. Shut the curtains as well, please.”

You turned off every light in the apartment and closed the curtains on the window beside the bed. Steven still hung his head and squinted his eyes, and you thought it best to close the rest of the curtains as well. Is he… hungover? That would surely make sense. He was coming down from a pretty powerful drug, after all.

“Is that better?” You returned to his side, running your hands lightly over his shoulders where the skin wasn’t so red. He nodded and reached up to grab you with his bound hands. Steven pulled you to him, eyes shut, and breathed in deeply as you set your chin gently against his neck. You wrapped your arms lazily around him and he slumped into you.

“My head is pounding,” he started, slurring his words. You could feel that his pulse was strong, but slow and uneven. He hummed into your skin and tugged you tighter, awkwardly grasping at your arm and begging you to hold him closer. “Can you just lay here with me?”

“For a minute, baby.” You were concerned by the state of his chest and his back. Most of the friction burns from the rope were mild, but the ones on waist and around his neck were more than warranting fear. You wondered how he wasn’t writhing in pain, as the burn on the left side of his neck seemed particularly raw and you could feel the heat radiating from it. “We need to get you cleaned up, though. I don’t want these wounds to get infected.”

“Just let me have a minute, please,” he grumbled. You pulled the blanket up over him further. “You’re so warm.”

He bore a slight, tired smile as you let your hands run across his skin. Every time your fingers grazed an indention left by the binding, he tensed and hummed and leaned into you more. Your hand explored lower, softly passing his hips and scooping back around his waist. Suddenly, you remembered.

“Steven?”

“Hmm?”

“You want me to take this out?” Your hand cupped his ass gently and he knew that you were referring to the vibrating plug you’d been too scared to touch before. You had wanted to wait until he awoke before you removed it, but you didn’t exactly expect him to be asleep for four hours. You’d forgotten about it.

He made another hum that sounded somewhat life an affirmation. Steven was awake, for sure, but it took all the energy he had just to breathe, let alone move or talk. You looped two of your fingers around the base of the plug and he quietly groaned.

“Just relax, baby.” You started to slowly pull and Steven dug his blunt nails into the skin of your arm. You felt him twitch against you, which sent a hot shiver down your spine and a weight to your stomach. You continued to pull until the widest part was almost at his rim.

“Wait,” he whispered to you and you paused. Steven sighed in resignation and embarrassment, neither of the emotions stronger than the other. He hummed and swallowed and loosened his grip on your arm, blushing. “Leave it in.”

You let go of the plug, allowing it to slowly sink back into him. He still couldn’t open his eyes and by now he was actively scrunching them shut. Nuzzling upward into his jaw, you planted a soft kiss on his lower cheek. He turned to look at you. Steven’s eyes only opened for a moment, lidded and heavy and unable to focus, and they closed again as he pressed his lips firmly against yours. You kissed him back sweetly, not parting your lips until his tongue coaxed them open. He took his time, surveying your mouth hesitantly and hungrily. It was oddly enough very far from a lustful kiss. It was loving and smooth.

He hissed as your arm grazed his shoulder and you had to make yourself back away. Steven’s eyes opened again and his lips puffed a tiny bit outward into a pout. You pulled away and moved to stand off of the bed.

“Where are you going?” he whined.

“To draw you a bath. You did a number on those ropes, Steven. Don’t you feel the burns on your skin?”

“I guess,” he huffed, “But I was more focused on feeling you, love.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Wait.”

He looked at you pitifully. You raised your eyebrows at him and he blushed deep crimson at the center of his cheeks. Using all the leverage he could bear, he turned to plead with you. The words had a hard time coming out of his mouth.

“Turn it back on.”

The weight in your stomach seemed to grow at his request. You couldn’t keep doing this forever. You thought that he was starting to come down, but evidently not down far enough. He waited desperately as you said nothing, turning over his words in your brain. Finally, you reached over to the bedside table and took the remote in your hands. You turned it up two settings from the lowest.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Call for me if you need me.” You had to convince yourself you were doing more good than harm. He was begging for this. You weren’t hurting him, and you had likely kept him from hurting himself over the last few hours. Stepping into the bathroom, you turned the faucet on for the tub to slightly hotter than lukewarm. Maybe cool water is better for burns, but you wouldn’t dare throw him into a cold bath. You let the water fill as you lit the lavender vanilla candle you kept by the tub.

You couldn’t believe the state he was in. The body had gone through nearly a dozen orgasms throughout the day and yet here he was, completely drunk on sex and whining and fighting and begging for more. He had already reached his peak once while you were away filling the tub, and as you crept back into the bedroom you could see he was on the edge of the second. You decided to talk him through his orgasm and then turn it off, whether he wanted that or not. It was getting to be more than his body could take and you would be damned if you couldn’t help him come down from this.

“You look so pretty, baby,” you cooed at him and he groaned. It was absolutely true in a very tragic way. Steven’s chest was heaving and his face was blushing and his curls were sticking to the sweat that rolled off his face as delirious curses fell down from his lips. He looked absolutely wrecked, completely destroyed and utterly defeated. That’s what made him so ravishing now.

“You’re doing so good.” You brought your hand to his neck, running your knuckles over the skin that shuddered at the touch. His whimpers were high pitched and choked and you could see he was right on the edge. “Doing so good for me. I could watch you like this for hours. You’re so pretty.”

His breath caught in his throat and he came with a low-pitched and raspy yelp. Immediately after he’d ridden it out, you turned off the plug and wrapped him up in your arms. He didn’t even try to hold you back. You took out the vibrator without much protest from him, and you drew gentle circles on his back as he regained the tiny bit of energy that he had left.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you into the bath, okay? It’s nice and warm.” You helped him to sit up and he groggily draped his arm onto your shoulder. You helped him to untie the last bit of rope binding his wrists and he took his newfound freedom as an opportunity to pull you into his chest. His voice ran together and erupted from his chest in a mumbling whine.

“I love you so much.” You laughed lightly and he tried in vain to lift his arms high enough to properly hold you. “You take care of me. So good to me.”

“Alright. I love you, too. We’ve got to make it to the tub now. Can you do that?”

“Of course.”

You stumbled your way into the bathroom with him, bearing as much of his weight as you could as you helped him step over the tub. He hummed breathily as the water enveloped his broken skin, soothing the scrapes and the burns and even the places that were just a little sore. He looked like he was bound to go back to sleep any second. You helped him hold his chest up and you started to scoop water over the parts of his body that sat above the surface. There was no noise except for the trickling of water and the sounds of both of your steady breaths. The silence went on until a new voice broke the tension in the air.

“Thank you.” Marc.

“You don’t need to thank me.” He looked surprised at the state of his body, rolling his shoulders and moving his arms and testing all of the painful places. You gazed at him pitifully as he grunted at the discomfort.

“Steven really didn’t know that he was getting himself into, did he?” He chuckled lightly and you brought a handful of water to his scalp. Marc hissed as the moisture hit his shoulder, burning the surface of the wound across his neck. It had calmed considerably, but it was still angry and red. “He has to stop jumping up to help me like that.”

“He says the same thing about you,” you scoffed. “He just didn’t want you to be in pain. You were in distress.”

“I was handling it.” You took a washcloth from the shelf under the vanity. Wetting it below the water, you pressed it gently to the line on his neck, careful not to rub or scrape or add too much pressure. He choked back a grunt at the stinging contact.

“He handled it just fine, too,” you pointed out. Marc glared at you, slightly annoyed, and the softness in his eyes was evident. Under normal circumstances, you would have thought him to be drunk. He wasn’t quite as grumpy or sensitive as his alter, but he was just as sore, tired, and confused. “He did have me worried, though. I hope that he’ll be okay.”

“He will be,” Marc soothed. How odd that he was soothing you. “Curse or no curse, he definitely enjoyed himself. I don’t think you have to worry about him.”

Your mind wandered back over the last few hours. Particularly, over Steven’s worry and confusion the moments that he woke up. You surveyed Marc for any signs of how the curse itself was working on him. There wasn’t too much time left, now, but it was bound to be lingering in him. He certainly still had the brain fog, if nothing else.

“Steven told me he felt like he was having a withdrawal. Like he needed something and he didn’t know what. Do you feel like that?” He squinted at you, obviously having to pour energy into thinking up his response. You tugged lightly at his hair to signal to him to tilt his head back. He obliged and you brought some shampoo up to the center of his scalp.

“I guess so. It’s not so much that I don’t know what I want, I just don’t know how to get it.” The scent of citrus and green tea from his shampoo filled the room as you lathered it into his hair.

“You know what it is?” You were surprised. He hummed in place of nodding to you. “What do you want, then?”

“You.”

The word sent shock and confusion and warmth through you all at once. He blushed a bit, but he said it so matter-of-factly that you knew it was genuine. All he wanted was you?

“I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“It’s like… the other stuff melted away. I don’t want sex anymore. Fuck, I’m too tired for that even if I did, but I still want the rest of it.”

You combed the pads of your fingers to the base of his scalp, wiggling your hand and bringing up water to rinse out his hair. He leaned into your touch lazily and desperately. Pathetically. He was too confident to beg like Steven had, too stoic and too gruff, but he didn’t hide how much he wanted the contact.

“The rest of it?” What could that possibly mean? The water was getting pretty cold now. You’d have to help him back up and he was even more weak and sleepy than Steven had been when he got in. You continued to wet his hair until you were confident that no soap was left. He yawned as you moved your hand down to rub his back.

“Yeah, the rest. The closeness. The warmth. I don’t know. There’s no one else I would want any of that from. I want it from you.”

“And that’s all you want? You’re sure you don’t want to have sex with me?” He couldn’t hold his eyes open now. He raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded. You moved to stand up from where you’d been kneeling beside the bath.

“I just want you, honey. That, and I want to get out of this tub.”

“Well, alright.” You grabbed him a towel and draped it on your arm while you helped him stand. His balance was barely there at all, but you kept him from falling long enough for him to step out onto the mat. Pulling the towel around his waist, you planted a lazy kiss to his temple, then his cheek. The two of you made your way slowly to the couch and he slumped into it instantly.

“You’re not gonna let me help you get dressed?” You smiled and he looked up at you with an offended glare.

“I’ll put on some boxers, maybe. I’m too tired to get dressed right now.”

“I’ll bring you some, then.” He curled up into a ball on the end of the couch, tucking his face into the cushions and letting his hair form a wet spot in the upholstery. Marc wore a satisfied smile, though it was exhausted as all hell. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he watched you as you slowly walked to his chest of drawers.

“Thank you.”

You brought back a loose pair of checkered boxers. Not nearly his favorite ones, but they were best for the burns on his waist, you figured. His raw skin thankfully wouldn’t need bandaging, but you were careful not to touch it as you helped him step into the underwear.

“Thank you.” He said again. You thought maybe he was delirious, but his face was too controlled, too deliberate. He wasn’t much unlike himself right now, as close as you’d seen any of them to their normal attitudes. He was tired, though, and needy as hell.

You took his towel and gave him a long, fluffy blanket in exchange. He tucked himself back into the couch, but not before calling quietly to you.

“C’mere.”

You dipped hesitantly into the cushion beside him, and he used all of the strength he had left to pull you against his chest, effectively trapping you on top of him. Once you had settled there—after a short giggling fit from the both of you—he dropped his grip and tucked himself into your neck, finally completely relaxed.

It wasn’t long before both of you were out cold.

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theewokingdead · 2 years

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Soft Lies, Hard Truths

Pairing: Javier Peña x Agent!Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Javi has strong feelings after you get injured saving him in the line of duty.

Rating: Explicit

A/N: Uh…So, I’ve never written him before, but @iamskyereads needed to hear about angry sex with Javi. @leannawithacapitala told me I didn’t have to write a whole scene as to why he’s angry or anything, but I apparently don’t listen. Thank her for enabling me (as I do with her) and giving me the courage to have a go at writing Javier.

If you want to be added to my taglist, join here or just let me know.

Main Masterlist

“Keep up the good work.”

Messina turns away from your desk area, where a small group had gathered to hear the heroic tale of how you got shot while saving Javier Peña’s ass – at least that’s how your co-workers have been portraying it. You’ve been hailed as brave and selfless for leaping between your partner and a bullet that was intended for him, protected only by the fabric of your tac vest.

Thank fuck for that clunky thing.

You look at her with one eyebrow raised and arms crossed, leaning with your backside against your desk. “You mean this may happen again?” you question, causing her to look at you confusedly. It’s not clear whether she didn’t expect the question or just didn’t have an answer to it – and honestly, how could anyone know whether you’d ever be shot again?

“I’ll be sure to duck next time,” you add, causing the small crowd around you to laugh. Even your boss manages to crack a small smile before walking away.

“You’re a riot,” a secretary declares. “How can you manage to be so calm and make jokes about what happened?”

Shrugging, you reply, “It was just an average day at the office. I’ve been in tighter spots.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being in a tighter spot,” she marvels, clearly unaware of how much your fellow agents and officers risk each day.

Opening your mouth to reply, you catch sight of Javier in the background. When you see him, your breath catches in your throat and your heart skips a beat. Relief washes over you…but only for a moment. The air around him seems to radiate tension, like a dark cloud is brewing over his head – that’s typical for Javier though. His eyes flash as they catch the reflection of the dancing lights, and you wonder if there’s more to it. Was that a glimpse of suppressed rage you caught beneath his brooding exterior? His fingers flex in place, his chin jutted and jaw clenched, lips a tight line - little quirks that are enough to confirm your suspicion.

He’s pissed. But why?

Javier hovers over his desk before picking up a manilla folder, opening the file to read it. It’s clear he’s ignoring you. Or pretending to at least. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to you in days, not since the incident that left you a hero in the eyes of your peers.

In the aftermath of the shooting, Messina forced you to take time off, claiming that getting shot isn’t something you get over in a day, even if it all it seemed to leave was some heavy bruising. Javier hadn’t called or visited, and since no one, not even Steve, knew about your relationship behind closed doors, you couldn’t just call the office and ask if he was okay. That's why you dropped by today, under the pretext that a bruise wasn’t going to stop you from catching Pablo Escobar, hoping to finally force Javier to talk to you.

Remembering that you were in the middle of a conversation, you clear your throat. “You know, normally I’d make a dirty joke about what you said,” you state. “There’s some potential there, but I’m not sure I’m really in the mood.”

“Eso es lo que dice la esposa del gringo,” Trujillo mutters to his fellow police officers, and everyone laughs. That’s what the gringo’s wife says.

“English, asshole,” Steve replies, seeming to know that was a jab at him.

“You are one lucky puta,” one of the Colombian officers note. “Crazy, but lucky.”

“Steve here is the lucky one,” you immediately quip, nodding in the direction of the other DEA agent. “If it had been him instead of me and Javi… Well, there’s no chance in hell they’d miss his pasty ass.”

Steve nods and pretends to laugh as he runs a thumb along his mustache. “Yeah, well, you can bend over and kiss my pasty ass.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “In your dreams, Murph. How about we leave the ass kissing to Trujillo?”

Everyone around you whoops and laughs. Everyone except Javier, who obviously was listening and seemed to reach a breaking point. After slamming the file on his desk, causing you and several others to snap your heads in his direction, he scoops up his leather jacket in one swift movement.

“Jav!” Steve calls, also unable to ignore Javier’s theatrics, watching as he heads toward the doors. “The fuck you going?”

“Home,” he growls back simply, not even looking back.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon!”

His shoulders are raised and head slumped. Though he storms out of the office with large, rapid movements, it’s clear to you that he’s retreating – from what, you don’t know.

“Fucking asshole,” Steve murmurs.

Hugging your arms tighter against your chest, your eyes drop to the ground, a hundred questions flowing through you mind. After a moment, you push yourself off the edge of your desk and walk after him, your pace intentionally casual so as not to draw further attention.

Stepping outside into the bright sunshine of Bogotá, you find the streets eerily quiet – quieter than you’ve ever heard them. Any other time, it would be comforting, feeling like the chaos within the city had been quelled. This time, it’s anything but calming, knowing that Javier was already gone. A mixture of anger and anxieties consumes you as you stand in the silence, unable to ignore the nagging feeling that something is wrong between the two of you. Did you do something - say something wrong?

God damn it, Javi.

Quickly, you run to your car and race to Javier’s building, hoping you can catch him before he could retreat to the confines of his apartment. As you pull up, you see him getting out of his car and march toward the building, the fingers of his right hand spreading like claws before clutching into a first.

Striding down the hallway, you watch him unlock his door.

“Jav!” you call, thinking he didn’t see you following.

Despite knowing you’re there, he closes the door behind him, making it clear it doesn’t want to talk to you. Fortunately, he didn’t lock it.

Barreling into his apartment and slamming the door shut behind you, you immediately fire at him, “What the fuck is your problem?”

He quickly whips around, his nostrils flared. “The fuck is yours?”

“Mine?” you question, laughing in disbelief. “Fuck you, Javi. You’ve been ignoring me for days. I didn’t do shit to you - except save your life. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What were you thinking?” he interrogates, confirming the nagging suspicion that his behavior had everything to do with that night. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I did get hurt,” you correct. “I’ve got the bruise to prove it. Would you like to see it?” Your voice is sarcastic, gesturing toward your chest.

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed.” He spits the words like venom, as if he is hoping they’ll seep into your blood and run to your brain to make you understand.

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” you ask, like you hadn’t told yourself a thousand times already.

“What are you going to do when the next bullet goes in your head?” he asks angrily, spit spraying from his mouth while he speaks, pointing theatrically to his head.

“Seriously, Javier? Don’t be so dramatic. What makes you so sure there will be a next time?” Years in the DEA, months in Colombia on the Escobar case, and it was the first-time lead made any sort of contact with you. The risk will always be there, especially with Escobar and his sicarios so desperate these days, but what were the chances that a bullet would find you again – and in the wrong place?

“What will you fucking do?” he repeats, demanding an answer.

Shrugging your shoulders, you reply, “Die, obviously.”

In a fit of rage, Javier slams his arm across a table, knocking some of his possessions to the ground. Then, he quickly spins around, stepping close to you. “You think this is a fucking joke?”

“No,” you respond. Even though you feel your heart pounding, you’re not intimidated. This wasn’t the first time you’ve dealt with an outburst; it was just the first time you were the cause of it. “I know the consequences of being at the wrong end of a barrel, Javier. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Javier seems to calm, taking a step back and putting his hands on his hips while looking away.

“You could’ve died,” he reiterates without looking at you. He couldn’t bring himself to.

“I’m fucking aware, Javi,” you grumble, already tired of this senseless argument. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry I jumped in front of you? I’m sorry I took the bullet instead of you? Is that what you want?” He remains silent. “I’m sorry I saved your fucking life. There. Happy?”

His nostrils flare, creating a steep, pronounced curve, as they always do when he’s angry. After a moment, he shakes his head. “No.”

“No?” you question, frustration clear in your voice.

“No,” he repeats, turning to you. Fire dances in his russet eyes, fueled by desire and laced with something that both scares and excites you to your very core.

“Because you don’t fucking mean it.”

“What do-”

Taking a step forward, he grabs your shirt and pulls you to him, crashing his lips into yours in a deep kiss. Hot breath escapes his nose, a combination of anger and passion flowing through his nostrils.

A mixture of confusion and relief wash over you as he captures your mouth in a bruising kiss that has you whimpering into his mouth. However, you let anger win out. Pushing him off your lips, you question, “Javier, what the fuck?”

His lips immediately find a place on your neck, and you are once more immobilized by the pleasure while he leaves a nice purpling bruise high enough for everyone to see should you return to work soon. His mustache tickles your skin as he brushes along your body. His hands peel back your jacket, exposing your skin to the cool air of his apartment. His lips are desperate, burning kisses into your skin while your jacket falls to the ground. You feel anger bubble up in your throat, but you’re distracted by his large hands moving to your hips, squeezing and pulling you closer. His knee parts your thighs for him, igniting a totally different fire in you - one that grows and spreads like wildfire.

“The things I want to do to you, hermosa…,” he growls, nimble fingers teasing the skin on your arms, causing goosebumps to form.

“Javi, please…,” you begin, feeling like you’ll explode or change your mind if something didn’t happen right here, right now.

“Use your words, sweetheart. What do you want?”

“I… Fuck!” You grab his wrist and pull his hand from your pants, not wanting to graze past whatever is bothering him, whatever caused him to lash out at you. He backs away in confusion, his chest heaving with the effort to hold back.

“I want you to tell me why you’re so upset,” you request, but he doesn’t respond, his head hanging in silence. “Are you pissed that I saved you before you even had the chance to save me? That youdon’t get to play the hero?”

Javier laughs at the ridiculous accusation. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then enlighten me,” you demand, crossing your arms. “Because I obviously have no clue what’s going on in that screwed up head of yours. One minute your pissed, the next you want to fuck me. What is it, Javier?”

He puts his hands on his hips once more, then looks down at the ground, fuming. “We both agreed to keep this a secret. That this was just fucking our frustrations out. But you – you throwing yourself in from of me…” He huffs. “Why? Why would you – why would anyone put their life on the line for me?”

You stare at him, unsure how to answer.

“I was doing my job.” What is that – lie number two? It is a blatant one, and as with the first lie, Javier sees right through it.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“So what if I am, asshole?” you ask aggressively. “Is it so hard to believe that someone cares about you? That I care about you? That I’ve developed fucking feelings for you? That I might actually lov-?”

“Don’t,” Javier immediately interrupts, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t fucking say it.”

You glare. “Don’t act like you don’t feel the same. I saw your face after I went down. You were afraid, Javi. And you’re still afraid - scared to let yourself have a little bit of happiness in this sad, pathetic life of yours.”

“Fuck you,” he spews.

“Most of all, I think you’re afraid because you love me too, and you’re scared to admit it - terrified by the thought of losing me.”

“Fuck this,” he growls before quickly spinning you around, pinning you against the front door, holding your arms against your back as if he’s arresting you. His hips slowly rut against your ass. “Do you feel what you fucking do to me?”

You smile victoriously, knowing you’re right. And though you’re pissed that he shoved you against the door unexpectedly, there’s no denying that it’s one of the hottest moves.

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t it too, querida,” he responds, his voice low and gruff. A hand returns to your body while his other holds your wrists. “You’d like if I fucked you like this, huh? From behind like some fucking animal. Tell me you wouldn’t like it.”

“I’d hate every second of it,” you snarl, not giving him the satisfaction of being right.

“Liar!” he growls, his voice making you shudder and clench your pussy at the same time. “Tell me to stop if you hate it so much.” He slips a hand down the waistband of your pants, his fingertips reaching and touching the wet spot on your panties. Instinctively, your hips roll against his touch, your body begging for something – anything – to relieve the pressure inside you.

“You can’t, can you? Because you don’t hate it, querida. You fucking love it,” he says. He withdraws his hand, but only to slip beneath your panties, dropping his hand to glide his fingers through your soaked folds. A calloused fingertip grazes your clit, garnering a gasp from you. He slides further down then sinks two thick fingers inside you.

Your mouth instinctively opens, but you quickly bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep from crying out in pleasure those nimble fingers give you. He slides his fingers in and out of you, his thumb brushing against your clit.

“Javi,” you whine breathlessly.

A harsh derisive laugh escapes his lips, his thumb busy bullying your clit around with tiny circles while he wiggles his fingers inside you. “You’re so fucking wet. Your body can’t deny it, so why do you? Tell me… Tell me how much you love when I touch your pussy. Dime.”

“You think this is going to make me beg?” you question heatedly. “You’re just making me impatient, Peña. Fuck me or don’t. Just make up your mind.”

“I’ve already made up my mind,” he replies, withdrawing his hand from your pants completely, making you whine at the loss of friction. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“Then fucking do it,” you sneer, trying to get out of the grip he still has on your wrists.

“Quédate!” he yells – stay still - pining himself even more against you, a hand around your waist to pull you even closer. You feel his cock push into your backside and hate how wet it makes you. “Maybe we should see if you can run that pretty little mouth of yours when its full of my cock. You’d like that, huh?”

“You’re all fucking talk, Javi. Shut up and give it to me.”

Javier laughs, low and deep, and you can sense the devilish smirk on his face. “You really don’t think I’m going to reward you for your behavior so easily, do you? No. First, I am going to kiss every inch of your skin.” He plants a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin there before moving elsewhere, grazing your skin with his nose as he moves. He slides his hand up your body, under your shirt, sending shivers up your spine as he fingers glide along it. Finding your bra, he quickly unhooks it with one hand, then reaches around, finding a nipple beneath the loosened garment. He pinches it to a peak, then rolls it between yours fingers while tugging lightly, eliciting a small moan from you.

“I’m going to suck on these gorgeous breasts of yours. Take you to the edge of orgasm without even touching your pussy.”

His hand runs back down your body. “Then I’m going to part your thighs and lick your folds until you’re whimpering, begging me to let you come. When you can’t take it anymore, I’ll fill that sweet little pussy of yours, and you’re going to come on my cock. Do you understand?”

“J-Javi.” Your breath hitches. You force yourself to inhale steadily as his hand slides closer to your hot center, his thumb rubbing lightly against you as your thighs part on your own volition.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes. Please, Javi.” You’re beyond caring about whatever pride you have left. All you want is to feel him inside you.

“Good girl. I’m going to make you beg, cariño. You may not be sorry now…but you will be.”

After what feels like hours of relentless teasing, your orgasm is swiftly reaching its peak. With deep, demanding thrusts, Javier slams into you from behind, brushing your sensitive spot with each punishing slide of his cock. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, nails leaving little crescent shape indentions and he pounds hard and fast. With each snap of his hips, his balls smack your clit, providing just enough stimulation. Stars shoot across your vision, and you screw your eyes tightly shut, nearly sobbing at the sensation.

Your body trembles, but you manage to remain on your elbows and knees, keeping your ass upright for Javier. A hand on your back pushes you down to remain in the perfect position for him, hellbent on fucking you so hard you forget your own name – and he’s succeeding. You’re a mess of mumbled words, gasps, and moans - a mix of Javi and please that have left your throat raw. You’re not even sure what you’re begging for; you just know you need it from him - now.

“Come for me,” he finally growls. “Soak my fucking cock, baby.”

Suddenly, the only words you seem to know are yes, yes, yes and Javi, thank you, grateful for the pleasure he’s finally giving you so freely. Your walls tighten around him, and a fire flows through you so hot that you wonder if you're being burned alive by your release.

His own orgasm sneaks up and devours him, his movements turning sloppy. With gritted teeth, your name escapes his mouth, hips jerking and stuttering as he paints your quivering walls with his seed. He stills inside you, his breath coming in soft pants.

Suddenly, a large hand wraps around your waist and pulls you up and back, squeezing you into his body. His chest is wet and sticky with sweat, the hair on his forehead damp. His fingers splayed over your skin, you reach up and grab his hand, forcing him to interlock his fingers with yours, sensing the tender and sweet Javier you know and love. He pants in your ear, his mouth trailing along your jaw, leaving little nibbling kisses.

“Mine,” he murmurs between breaths and kisses. “Mine.”

“I’m yours, Javi,” you affirm, squeezing his hand.

“If you ever pull a fucking stunt like that again…” He can’t continue, the thought alone too much to bear. “I’m sorry…for losing my mind.”

You twist your torso enough to see him, his brown eyes wet and soft, filled with so many emotions, all of which he wishes he could bury. You reach up and caress his face, your fingertips feeling the stubble on his cheek from where he didn’t shave that morning. “What are you afraid of, Javier?”

A frown twists at his lips and he drops his gaze, diverting yours. “I’m not afraid of many things, cariño…but mostly, I’m afraid of losing you.”

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena #narcos #pedro pascal #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #narcos fanfic #angry javi #javi peña #javi pena #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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crtter · 8 months

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hey so, i saw that one carrd you made with links for the osomatsu english dub and i was wondering if you also have links for other osomatsu/literally any akatsuka related media

I do! I’ve got most of 60s -kun and the entirety of 80s -kun + the first half of the Osomatsu-kun / Tensai Bakabon special in these Google drive accounts:

And this person here on Tumblr has the two other 80s Osomatsu-kun movies:

There’s a catch, though: none of these are subbed. Ever since I’ve made the initial post, however, I’ve been able to acquire an English subbed version of 80s Osomatsu-kun, minus the special and the two movies! I’ve also got the raws of the 90s and 00s Tensai Bakabon on me, and I think the other Tensai Bakabon series are also relatively easily available to track down.

I haven’t uploaded any of these anywhere yet but I’m planning on it along with the entirety of the Spanish Osomatsu-kun dub, which I also have on me! It takes a little bit of planning and organizing, though, but as soon as I do I’ll update and reblog the original post 👍

#Answers #Anonymous #Osomatsu kun #80s -kun #60s -kun #Osomatsu san

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violetfaust · 6 months

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The Broken Destiel Seals: A Semicomprehensive Unillustrated List

(So far)

I didn't complete my (self-appointed) assignment for Destiel Day, which was to compile a complete list of every time Destiel went canon (thus breaking one of the Sixty-Six Seals: when they all fall, the pale coconuts will collide), with nice gifs. To me, Destiel is "canonized" by persons/entities who officially create and distribute the show: producers, writers, actors, directors, other crew, translators, and networks.

Have, instead, this work in progress.

November 5, 2020, 15x18, “Despair”: Cas declares his love.

Then:

Nov. 11, 2020: Misha Collins at DCLOnline: “It was a long time in the making. It was really important to [Robert Berens] and really important to me. When he pitched me the storyline it gave me chills. I thought - this is awesome. This vindication and this expression of love - at the end - it makes it all worth it. I was really happy about it. You know, it’s interesting, there are some fans who are asexual who have taken solace in the fact that Cas hasn’t made this kind of declaration [before] so I feel bad that those fans might get a little bit alienated. However, I’m sure that a lot of them are also okay with this. There’s a trope in Hollywood of “kill the gays” and so Cas meeting with his demise only seconds after making this homosexual declaration of love fits into that fairly insidious trope, however, for some reason, that is, in my mind, not really as important as the declaration itself.”

Nov. 12, 2020, 15x19, “Inherit the Earth”: Lucifer, whose signature move is pretending to be a dead lover to get someone to let him in (done to Sam, Nick, and Vince Vincente), pretends to be Cas when calling Dean.

November 19, 2020, 15x20, “Carry On”: Bobby’s knowing eyebrow waggle when telling Dean that Cass "helped"--was safe in heaven.

November 25, 2020, the Latin American dub: “Te amo.” “Y yo a ti, Cas.” https://teamironmanforever.tumblr.com/post/637355024027090944/highlight-translation-of-the-spanish-dub-actor

Those are the first five seals, taking us to the end of November 2020.

But they were just the beginning.

December 6, 2020, 5x4 “The End” script: “I think the only thing we have left, me and Dean, is each other.”

December 6, 2020: confirmation that Dean was scripted to say “I love you” in the crypt scene.

December 11, 2020, 15x18 script direction: “Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”

December 28, 2020, 7x1 script direction: “Dean looks down, away, quietly emotional—believe it or not, the following is a loving, heart-wrenched eulogy.”

January 8, 2021: Sky Deutschland describes Cas’s closest relationship as “Dean <3”

March 3, 2021, 15x18 German dub

March 10, 2021, 15x18 French dub

March 25, 2021: Before airing the SPN finale, Sky Deutschland shares Destiel reunion fanart. https://www.instagram.com/p/CM2hL42CQbO/

April 4, 2021: cameo with Misha reciting deleted bit from 05x04 The End gets published

April 10, 2021, Misha at Paris DarkLight Conline: The mix tape contained rock love songs.

April 18, 2021, 13x6 second draft script: Dean spread Cas’s ashes in a beautiful meadow near a windmill.

Note: from November 2020 to the beginning of May 2021, Destiel was going canon an average of once a week.

6/18/21, 15x18 Russian dub: “From our very first meeting, ever since I pulled you out of hell, I’ve been changing beside you. I learned love from you.” “Don’t even think about it, Cas.”

6/30/21, original script for 8x17, “Good-bye Stranger”: “I forgive you, Cas…I love you.”

9/4/21, Misha Collins at Memento Con 21: “Cas saw love in Dean’s eyes.”

9/9/21: the Italian dub’s “I love you” is platonic (unlike all other translations); Misha retorts with a “Ti amo” tweet.

10/15/21, DenCon 21:

April 2022, SPN Indy: Misha confirms that Jensen/Radio Company song “Watching Over Me” is about Cas

9/5/22, 13x20 “Unfinished Business” production script: “I lost Cas and it damn near broke me.”

10/23/22, Jensen Ackles at VanCon 22: “I had an answer for that in the next set up--camera set up after Castiel is taken and Dean's on the floor and puts his--I put my--my head in my hands--um--in that moment I did that not because I just lost--well because I--I-- he--because I lost Cas, but also because I didn't-- I didn't say anything--I didn't give him anything. And--what I had in my head was, I should have said 'I love you too' and hugged him."

Note: Someone in the future will earn their doctorate in psychology studying Jensen Ackles's tangled pronouns when he talks about Dean.

11/16/22, 14x10 “Prophet and Loss” blue pages: “The world loses you, and me—I—I lose you too. And that is unacceptable to me, Dean. Unacceptable. Totally.”

2/25/23, JA at JIB 2023: “Well, I mean hopefully we get to see that at some point but I'm sure it would go how we all think it would go, it would probably be a big embrace and then Dean would say ‘Can we talk about that goodbye a little bit?’"

February 2023, JIB: Jensen and Misha write a Destiel song onstage

8/23/23: News breaks that the Latin American translator “doesn’t add stuff” and while he doesn’t remember specifically, he thinks Dean’s reciprocation must have been in the script he worked from. https://www.tumblr.com/blanketforcas/726452424930410496/context-for-those-who-missed-it

Those are the roughly 28 Destiel Seals through 11/5/23.

And counting...

#destiel #spn #nov 5th #dean winchester #castiel #the destiel seals #to date #remember remember the fifth of november #to repeat:#in late 2020/early 2021 destiel was going canon an average of once a week #op

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messrsbyler · 1 year

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if you love stranger things you need to hear me out on this one…

so we have about a year to wait for next season, and during these trying times i am here to offer a hand. if you love stranger things (which if you are here reading this we both know you do) i URGE you to go watch Paraíso (Paradise) on HBO max if you can. it’s a spanish series with a very similar plot to st. basically, a group of three girls went missing after attending this pub named paradise and it’s been three months since no answers have been found about their location. what it’s even odder though it’s the fact that this only adds to a series of missing people who all have gone missing in groups of three in this town, something no one can explain. now, the brother of one of the girls along with his friends are trying to find answers as to what happened that night, and they stumble to what seems to be a supernatural hidden spot in said pub with many secrets and some people who will do what they can to keep those secrets buried. did i also mention the series takes place during the 90’s? that the group of friends are ride or die for each other? that (from what i’ve heard) there’s an official queer couple? and if you are the type of people who don’t like watching series in other languages (though i highly recommend watch this one in spanish with subtitles bc it adds to the experience) the series is dubbed in english.

now, i can only speak for the first episode because i just finished and it was SO DAMN GOOD!! it was gripping and kept my attention at all times, i liked the characters and the struggles they are going through, the different relationships they show between family, friends, and love interests. i am so HOOKED with the mystery of this place called Paradise. the show so far has two seasons each of seven chapters if i’m not wrong, so i have a long way to go and things could go downhill. HOWEVER first chapter gave me that feeling i got when i watched all of st, that feeling of “oh this is gonna be such a good show i’m so excited for the next episode i need to know what happens next with this mystery and these characters”, so i thought i would come here and put it on your radar if it wasn’t yet.

#stranger things #paradise #shows #series

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beturbecky · 1 year

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So sometimes I watch movies in Spanish (I’ve been doing it more as of late) to not only help improve on my Spanish, but so my abuela can understand what’s going on and I’m watching knives out.

We got to this one part in the film where

*slight spoiler talk*

Blank tells Helen that he isn’t Batman, to let her know he’ll do his best at getting the ‘shitheads’ to talk, but he’s not Batman. But in the Spanish dub, instead of Batman, he says James Bond

#lol #knives out #slight spoilers for glass onion #glass onion #glass onion a knives out mystery

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slowroadtosantiago · 1 year

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Day 27 - Leon

So it’s been a funny old day. I wandered out to see the cathedral this morning leaving Jane in bed Googling ‘sprained ankle’.

The city was quiet and the streets clean after the partying that would have taken place last night.

The cathedral is another large gothic construction, not as interesting inside as Burgos but what it does have are some amazing stained glass windows. In fact all the windows in there are amazing stained glass which change as the light moves around during the day.

I was in for an hour when Jane messaged to say she wanted to find a pharmacy to see what they would say about her ankle. I met her and we found one open. Basically the pharmacist said to go to the hospital to get it checked out.

There was a hospital just behind the cathedral set in the city walls. It turned out to be a private hospital that wouldn’t accept our UK Global Health Insurance card, but we are both covered by separate travel insurance. After a bit of form filling in Jane was led away and I went for a wander.

She had an X-ray and nothing is broken. However she has a 3rd degree sprain with a tendon tear and is not allowed to walk or carry weight for 72 hours and must keep it strapped up for a week, and has been told to get some tablets.

In the meantime I had met Alex and Nicole and had taken them to a nice restaurant I knew where we were sitting outside before being joined by Janet and Ernest. Jane came along shortly afterwards. She is mobile but is in obvious discomfort.

We all ate together then Jane and I got an ice cream on the way back for a final washing session and a siesta. We’ve both got one non-walking thing - I brought a lightweight dress and Jane a long shirt which we have worn in the evenings or on days off. So they have also had a freshen up.

We had a chat about what we would do. The one thing I’m sure of it’s that it’s all for one, one for all, and that if we can’t complete this together this time then we’ll come back in September. For now we’ve decided to stay another couple of days in Leon to see how the ankle heals and then we’ll take it from there. I’ve messaged the Airbnb host but there are plenty of places to stay.

We popped out once the shops had reopened and went back to the pharmacy for the tablets Jane needed. It was the same pharmacist as in the morning and she was lovely with Jane, very concerned.

We then had a lemonade and people watched for a while. Everyone comes out in their finery the evening to promenade along the main street . You can always tell the pilgrims as they are the scruffy ones in sandals!

Several people we knew stopped to say hello - Dieter from Austria and Kate and Malcolm the siblings. After stopping in the supermarket for a few bits we’ve settled back at the flat watching something which we think is French dubbed into Spanish. It’s fun making up the story!

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smileysuh · 7 months

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Okie I’ve only read ghost or so far will read vamp wonwoo as soon as I head to bed but johnny is like… 🫣🤭🤭🤭 for me so I had to right away and these are som notes I wrote so I wouldn’t forget 🫡

I got, like soooo giddy during the phone call when he said he would never lie to mc 🤭

MC DOING TBE WONDER WOMAN POSE BEFORE HER JOB INTERVIEW WAS SO RELATABLE I CACKLED

It’s soooo crazy knowing it’s Johnny and they describe him as a softy bear w like no ounce of suspect you had me screaming into my pillow

I love them

I love bestie mark

I love haechan

I love Johnny sm 😭😭😭

🍵

(Also I did respond to your opla question promise but I sent in your other account idk. But omg girl I am so down horrendous for sanji and shanks the most but like the entire cast as me panicking. did you know that the actors that play luffy and sanji also do the Spanish dub. I melted through my floor)

HIIIII!!!!!! omg I love these notes- Ghostie John had me giddy TOO!

Happy to get your opla responses here cuz I never check that other account- I hadn't been on it in 2 years until opla came out klDLKSADLK, omg, DADDY SHANKS FOR SURE!!!!! and Sanji, our love- we do love Spanish kings holy shit, the cast is just 10/10-

ok but let me tell you about my new one piece obsession

i've got a thing for fucking ASSHOLES- Donquixote Doflamingo- I'm watching the whole ass anime JUST FOR THIS MAN

and don't get me started on Donquixote Rosinante

I might pass away when they join the live action

#inbox #soup anon #🍵 anon

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venus-haze · 7 months

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On my day off I’ve decided to rewatch midnight mass and some other horror movies that you’ve written fics ab so I can catch up. Slasher or horror recs?

Hey Coi! I hope your semester has been going well🖤 I’d definitely recommend House of Wax, Near Dark, and Slumber Party Massacre 2 (you don’t have to watch the first one to get what’s going on in the second, there’s like one or two minor references to the first one but they have no bearing on the plot). Rob Zombie’s trilogy of House of 1000 Corpses, Devil’s Rejects, and 3 From Hell are great if you’re into the Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies.

For more contemporary horror, I’d recommend Don’t Breathe, Barbarian, Bones and All, and Cerdita/Piggy (the original Spanish dub with English subtitles is the way to go).

🦇 Battie

#ask tag

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microsoftactivationscripts · 1 year

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Rambling about Ben 10 and the English language for ~800 words

In March 24th of 2008, Latin America faced a significant problem: the newest DVD release of popular cartoon series Ben 10 had been released, and it did not feature a Spanish dub. This limited access to the majority of the population, since most of them did not speak English. It was a real problem, I swear. Many people were affected! One child in particular suffered most of all… Me. It was me. I was the main victim of this crime. Seven year old me was absolutely obsessed with Ben 10 and I watched the DVD episodes on repeat most days. When I got the season 3 disks, I was confused to see that they did not have an option for translated audio. However, they did have Spanish subtitles available, and I had the determination to continue watching the show on loop. The result of this was watching every episode of season 3 and then later 4 over and over, day after day, listening to English audio while simultaneously reading Spanish subtitles. At some point, one simply starts understanding what they’re saying.

The image of a child learning a new language out of sheer determination to keep watching one particular cartoon show is pretty funny, which is why for the most part I only bring it up to get a laugh out of people. Going deeper into it, though, it is not hard to see that it actually ended up being a pretty important event in my life. It’s not that the experience of listening to the explanation for how Ben 10 suddenly unlocked Upchuck of all aliens to eat a giant robot in the season finale had a profound impact on me, though the season’s Ghostfreak arc did fuel my continued obsession with the show. It’s that it’s hard to imagine how different of a path my life would have taken if I had never learned to speak English. This is, of course, almost entirely due to the Internet.

I’ve almost never been in a position where knowing English has been necessary offline, but online it’s a different story, with basically every popular website requiring you to be able to at least understand English, even if not fluently speak it yourself. Without access to this mass of information, I would be a very different person right now, considering that being limited to only what I learned from people and institutions around me would leave me with significant gaps in knowledge. I may have questioned less about how this society works and what is expected of all of us. I would imagine my political views, while still strongly anti-colonialist, would emphasise anti-capitalism less.

A more personally dramatic change would likely be my lack of exposure to the concept of being transgender. Queer topics are simply never discussed in Puerto Rico, unless by way of disparaging comments and jokes. I would likely still know next to nothing about them had I never learned English and gone online to stumble across information by myself. I might still be occasionally wondering what’s wrong with me in the rare moments of introspection before returning to my default state of running on autopilot, which went on for years which I now genuinely struggle to remember most of. I would also never have met the people that went on to become my friends. What would have happened had I graduated high school in that state and had no one left to talk to, to confide in, to ease my loneliness with? What would have happened had I never met Shahnaz, the person I’m closest to in this entire world, who knows me better than anyone and is the only one I trust to talk to about my deepest issues? They’ve shaped my life in so many ways that it feels impossible to imagine a version of myself that never knew them, never knew her.

Being able to understand this language has, looking back, been a vital part of my development into being the person I am now. It let me consume media I would otherwise have missed out on. It allowed me access to information and perspectives that I may never have been exposed to had I been relying exclusively on what I learned from people and institutions locally, or even limited to Latin American internet, leading me to question more about the world, the society and systems we live under, and myself. It even made me able to connect with people who I otherwise would have had no chance of talking with, some of whom would go on to become close friends and have significant influences on me as a person. Hell, I’m now even planning on living in Scotland, a fully English-speaking country. That’s certainly going to bump up the amount of use I get out of the language. While I may sometimes have a few complicated feelings when it comes to the use of the language due to colonialism, I’ve never regretted knowing it. Being bilingual has widened my perspective on pretty much everything and allowed me to connect with some amazing people. Most of all, it let me watch Secret of the Omnitrix over and over and over again, and that shit is still cool as fuck. I’m gonna go watch Ben 10 again now.

#ben 10 #english #english language #puerto rico #latin america #trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #queer #essay

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