#this is dedicated to the person who asked me if i had forgotten about javier when i talked about the fronteras gushing about their children

[lloydfrontera]

i will always find the relationship between javier and the fronteras endlessly fascinating and compelling especially because of the way it's shaped by the required narrative of the original novel versus what we see of them as people through the plot of tged. let me explain.

the thing about javier is that. he's not. a person when we first meet him. he's supposed to be a character. he's just about to go through his tragic backstory so he can then go on to be the hero of 'the knight of blood and iron'. this is what javier is. all his life before that is really nothing more than a footnote. the fronteras themselves are nothing more than extras that die in the very beginning of his story.

and this shapes the way their relationship is meant to be like. because they need to strike the right balance of them being close enough where it's justified for javier to be so loyal to arcos that he refuses to take any master after his death but not so close that javier feels the responsibility or has the authority to take over the estate after their deaths or even remain there at all to help in any way he can. for the sake of the narrative javier isn't allowed to really be a part of the frontera family despite being basically raised by them, because that would interfere with the plot destiny has set up for him.

and if that were it, that would be fine, no one would really pay that much attention to it because why would they. the only things that matters is that they kept javier alive, they were close to him in some regard and now they're dead. that's all that was needed from them for tkobai.

but then. lloyd happens. and he immediately derails the plot and saves the fronteras from death and javier from having to become an errant knight and now everyone is alive and free to continue their own lives and then we get to know arcos and marbella, not as just tragic extras of javier's story but as actual people with their own thoughts and feelings and. what we get to know about them doesn't quite track with their previous actions.

the arcos and marbella we get to know in tged?? they basically adopt lloyd as their son. lloyd. an adult stranger who replaced their son, kept the truth from them for years and who then came back looking nothing like their own kid. and they still love him and accept him as their child. by all accounts they straight up give him their family name, centuries later he's still known as lloyd frontera and nothing else.

this is the kind of people they are. the kind of people who would welcome a stranger into their family because he's kind and good and he's trying his best.

but you mean to tell me that these are the same people who took in a five year old orphan into their home and then just. kept him around. not really being a part of their family. they just raised him for 15 years and then took his oath as a knight and that was it. they don't even call him by his name. he's always 'sir asrahan'.

it doesn't make sense!! that doesn't track with the kind of people they are in tged! except it totally does if you remember they were never meant to be more than just extras. they were never meant to be more than some kind people javier is very distraught to lose but not enough to fall apart for.

that being said. there are a couple explanations that could be given in universe to explain why javier was never made a frontera, despite being taken in by them.

one is that they simply weren't allowed to adopt him. like someone in the replies of this post mentioned, some countries could be pretty strict about who nobles were allowed to adopt. maybe in the magentano kingdom it's the same and the fronteras couldn't legally make javier their child and so could only take him in as a ward or something similar.

or maybe they didn't want to take away one of the very few things javier has left of his family. he was a really small child when his parents were killed, he once mentions he doesn't even really remember his father, just a memory of waiting up for him late at night and that's it. he never really speaks of them nor does he seem to have a deeper connection or longing for them. by the time we meet him, all he has left of them is his name really. maybe when they took him in neither arcos nor marbella wanted to take away one of javier's last remains of his family by making him take their name.

or perhaps they thought adopting javier would cause them more harm than good. after all. they did have a little bastard of a son who took offense at the very existence of javier, despite javier just being *checks notes* a five year old orphan they picked up from the streets so he wouldn't starve or freeze to death. can you imagine the nightmare it would've been if javier had actually been adopted and not just taken in. if og lloyd had not only been forced to share a home but also his own name with him. it wouldn't have been pretty! and the one to pay for it would've certainly been javier! so maybe they thought the risk was simply too high. maybe they thought not giving him their name was a price worth paying to keep the peace at their home.

or maybe they simply didn't think it was their place. maybe they didn't want to make javier uncomfortable or force him into a relationship with them that he didn't want. maybe they wanted to wait until the loss was a little less recent, until the pain had had time to settle into something more manageable and then they just. missed the timing. maybe by the time they realized it was already too late and walls had formed between them that they didn't know how to take down.

in any case i simply don't believe that arcos and marbella are the kind of people to take in a child, raise him his whole life and then just. not feel anything deeper than fondness for him. it doesn't make sense from what we actually get to see of them.

i don't think their relationship with javier is that of parents with a child, but i also don't think it's as distant as what it looks like at first glance. personally i think it must be a mix of,,, habit, formalities and the awkwardness of a missed opportunity hanging between them that doesn't let them be as close as they would otherwise be. like. they all wish they could be something more, they wish the distance was a little shorter, they wish the walls between them could come down but they simply aren't sure how to do that anymore. they don't know if they missed their one chance and this is all that's left.

i don't know!! i just!! it's fascinating to me and i think about it far too much for it to be healthy!! halp!!

[jawabear]

Hi~ could I request a Javi fic inspired by the song Take my breath away by Berlin? 🥺

Take my breath away (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: thanks for the request Anon! I know you said you wanted it based on the song but I kind of based it on the scene in which the song plays in Top Gun...I hope that’s okay... this is more of a Frankie song to me, but I loved writing this for my love Javi. But I’m sorry if this kind of sucks? I really like it but I think it’s more to my personal taste... but I hope you enjoy it. I definitely recommend listening to the song whilst reading this, and maybe watching the scene too. But it’s not a requirement. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Fem!Reader, angry flirting, very slow sex, Javi being a little clueless about love and feelings, soft!javi, me trying to talk politics, time skips

Summary: The Calí case was to run differently, that was made clear to him. But something else is made clear to Javier as well.

-

Watching every motion in my foolish lover's game,

On this endless ocean finally lovers know no shame

Another day, another meeting. That’s all it was for Javier. But he didn’t expect much else. He didn’t expect the Cali case to be any different from the Escobar case. It now he was the one calling the shots, everything was a whole lot harder.

But he knew what meetings would entail. Him getting a talk from the ambassador. Generals giving zero shits for the safety of the DEA agents. And anyone else who was in their throwing in there opinions that meant jack shit to anyone else there. And she would be there.

The bane of Javier’s life.

She had been in his life since the Escobar case got going, but before Steve was sent down from Miami. He wasn’t sure what her job role was exactly. But she was in every meeting. In the background. Blending in and going unnoticed until she spoke. But Javi noticed her immediately. A radiant being. A beautiful woman. Who knew how to get shit done. And did it well.

Javier walked into the meeting room where it seemed everyone else had already been assembled, all waiting on him. All eyes were on him. He gave a curt nod and looked quickly around the room for a seat and glancing over the eyes that were on him. All except one pair.

There she sat. Writing something on her paper that probably had no relevance to anything and that no one would ever see. At first she didn’t care to acknowledge him. But he knew that she knew he was there.

Her eyes briefly looked up and met his.

Those eyes. Those damn eyes. They saw everything. They took everything in. She didn’t miss a single detail about anything or anyone. And he had fallen for those eyes. Those bright, big, beautiful eyes.

But it seemed as soon as they met his own, they were gone again, looking back down at her paper. Javi took the only seat that was available, the one that was right opposite her. Of course.

“Nice if you to join us, Agent Peña” Crosby said in a sarcastic tone.

“Sorry I’m late” Javier apologised, adjusting his sitting position as he opened the file in front of him.

The meeting got stated soon after that but it was nothing that Javier hadn’t already been told on his arrival back in Colombia. And besides, his attention was on something far more interesting. Or someone. But she paid no attention to him. She rarely ever did, save for the odd glance here and there. They had hardly ever spoke to each other. It seemed she much favoured Steve when he was there, that’s what he guess anyway. She much preferred to talk to him than Javi.

Javi knew that his feelings for her were ridiculous and one sided. She wouldn’t give him the time of day let alone the attention and affection he desperately wanted from her. She was firm, level headed, and strong willed. She never did anything spontaneous or unplanned. And he never seemed to have a place in her life. He didn’t have a place in her heart. At least, that’s what Javi believed.

“Ambassador” she said as she leaned forwards slightly to make her self visible to everyone. They all seemed a little surprised when she spoke up. Most likely because they had forgotten she was in there. “If I may sir?”

“Please” Crosby said gesturing for her to continue.

She nodded and glanced back to Javier whose eyes had barely left her for the duration of the meeting so far “I am aware, sir, that you have already made it clear to Agent Peña that the Cali case cannot be like the Escobar case. But I wanted to make it clear to both Agent Peña and everyone else present exactly what that means”

She paused for a moment and looked around the room for any sign of objection, but when she receive none, she continued again. “Calí had to be done differently. The Godfathers play by their own rules, yes, but they do have rules. And so do we. So we have to play by our rules too. We have to follow the rules of the Colombian government too. There is no way around that. No more unnecessary risks. We cannot work as freely and as uncontrolled and Agent Peña did in the Escobar case. It’s just not going to pass this time. And whilst they succeeded in capturing and killing Escobar, the extent of the damage left behind is immeasurable. It is best for the people of Colombia and the American government is we try to avoid that same future at all costs”

“Is this now just a dig at me, agent?” He laughed making her look at him.

“No. It isn’t. I’m simply stating that we can’t have a re-run of what you and agent Murphy did in Medellín. Too many lives were lost in the hunt for Escobar. Calí has to be done differently”

“It’s a drug war, (Y/N)” he spat “there is going to be a body count however it plays out”

“It’s the DEA’s job, Javier, to reduce that body count. Or to ensure there isn’t one at all. But from what I’ve heard, you had a personal hand in making the amount large” she retorted quickly, giving him a dark look from across the table.

“I think what she is trying to say,” Crosby spoke up, sensing the hostility between the two agents “is that we take no more unnecessary risks. We play things by the book. For the safety of everyone”

That pretty much wrapped up the meeting and Javier was far too pissed of to stay and shake the hands of those who thought so little of him. He made a quick escape and (Y/N) watch his every move.

But she was more polite than Javi was. No matter how bad a mood she was in, she always stayed to show respect to the others, even if often they didn’t deserve it. But once that was done, she followed in Javi’s footsteps out the door and trailing after him.

(Y/N) didn’t quite managed to catch up to him. She stood at the top of the embassy stairs as he swung open his car door. “Javier!” She called out to him. She knew he heard her, but he ignored her completely. He got in his car and it wasn’t long before he was driving off. “Fuck” she swore under her breath before marching to her own car to chase after him. He was going to listen to what she had to say, whether he liked it or not.

Turning and returning to some secret place inside,

Watching in slow motion as you turn around and say

“Javier” she called again getting out her car to meet him.

“You insult a guy and then follow him home?” He mocked.

“Javier, listen to me-“

“To you saying what? Have you got a list in your pocket of all the other ways you can slate me and my work? If you don’t like me (Y/N), just tell me. You’ve made it fucking obvious to everyone else!”

He went to walk past her by she took his arm in a surprisingly firm grasp and forced him to turn back and look at her. He could see the anger rising in her, she looked at him with serious yet soft eyes.

“Everything I said was true but there was more that I wanted to say. But I couldn’t say it back there. There were things I couldn’t admit back there. Like how I admired your bravery and dedication to this job. I couldn’t say that because everyone would see right through me. I didn’t want people to know the truth” she stated firmly as she looked between his eyes.

He let out a laugh and placed his hands on his hips “oh yeah? What truth?” He asked.

“That I’ve fallen for you” she said without skipping a beat.

For once in his life, Javier was speechless. He just stared at her, not knowing what to say. And she just stared right back, she wasn’t phased by her words at all. But what she was phased by was what he did next.

He walked towards her, grabbing her face in his hands and pressing his lips to her. She immediately kissed him back, he hands coming to rest on his hips. Their lips moved against each other perfectly. The cliche line that they were made for each other became apparent. And it was true.

Nothing felt more perfect.

My love, Take my breath away

She stood up against the wall beside his bed, his hands either side of her head but he stood at arms length away from her. Watching her with hungry eyes as she slowly unbuttoned her shirt revealing her black lace bra.

Javier hesitantly reached out his hand and trace along the fabric whilst she looked up at him through her lashes with wanting eyes. His hand slid up to her shoulder as he pressed his lips to hers again. His tongue came out to run across her bottom lip and she didn’t hesitate in opening her mouth for him to explore. As he did this, he pushed her shirt off her shoulder, it dropped to the floor and he wrapped his arms around her as she brought her hands up to rest of his bare chest.

“I’ve fallen for you too” he whispered. They were the first words he had uttered to her since she had said the same. She hummed against his lips and managed to slip her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers through his thick hair holding his lips against hers.

Carefully, Javi pulled her off the wall and laid her on the bed. He pulled his lips from her and looking into her eyes again. Slowly he lifted his hand and gently brushed a few stands of hair from her face. He then moved that hand down her body and slipped his fingers into her panties and stroked through her folds.

“Javi” she gasped before biting down on her bottom lip. His rough fingers found their way to her clit where he began rubbing soft circles over it making her moan quietly. Javi buried his face into her neck, licking and sucking at her soft skin. Her fingers wrapped around his strong biceps as she melted into his mattress and his sweet touch.

(Y/N) began rolling her hips, grinding against his fingers eager for more friction. Eager for his touch. He pulled his head from her neck and reattached his lips to hers, his tongue sliding back into her mouth, stroking over hers as he pushed down her panties and threw them across the room.

Their tongues still dancing together, her hands moved down his back to his jeans when she skilfully undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. His fingers were still rubbing at her clit making her let out breathy moans into his mouth. She sat up slightly so she could reach into his boxers and pull out his already hard length, teasing his head with her thumb making him instinctively thrust into her hand with a grunt making her smile.

He let out a low growl and pushed her down onto her back again before pushing his jeans and boxers further down his legs. He leaned back over her and slowly eased himself into her.

“Oh fuck” he gasped into the air. She hummed as he pushed further and further into her, her tongue sliding up the length of his neck before he looked back down at her. She looked up at him with a teasing look but that look was soon wiped of her face as he began to slowly thrust in and out of her. She hummed and flattened her hands on his broad back.

They both began filling his room with quiet and breathless moans of each other’s name. The gentle rustling of his bed sheets and quiet squeak of the bed too. The sound of his lips sucking at her neck and the sound of her fingers gliding up and down his back.

Javi had never been this slow and sensual with anyone. But he had never had a reason too. He didn’t need to work out his frustrations of his day, nor did he need to forget. No. He could enjoy it. He could feel it. Feel her. Hear her. Love her.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she rolled her head back, her back arching up so their chests were touching. She moaned from her throat as her nails dug into his back.

No words were needed for him to know he had hit a good spot inside her. Now words were needed for him to know she was already close to her end, but so was he. The slowness of the sex was driving them both crazy in the best possible way.

It just felt so good.

She whispered his name and he whispered hers. His thick fingers trailed down her body again, meeting her swollen clit and rubbing barely there circles on it, the light touches blew her mind, her nails dug further into his skin making him groan.

Javi looked down at her, loving the expression of pleasure on her face. He gently nipped at her chin making her smile “oh Javi” she whispered.

He only moaned in response as her walls began to pulse around him and she began to pant. His hips began to move a little fast and he pressed harder against her clit pulling cut little whimpers and whines from her.

It wasn’t long, then, before she was coming around him. Her breath almost stopping completely as her walls clamped down on him and her eyes were squeezed shut. He came quickly after that, shooting ropes of his hot come inside, resting his forehead against hers.

She was basically frozen in her state of pleasure, her body not moving or responding to him as he slowed his hips and pulled his fingers off her.

Javi pressed a loose kiss to her parted lips “breath for me baby” he whispered to her. Words he never expected to say to someone after sex. But nonetheless, he had to make sure she didn’t die on him. A deep breath fell from her lips fanning over his face “good girl” his hips came to a full stop and he slowly pulled out of her, letting her back ease back down onto his bed as he rolled off her.

Take my breath away

“I’m sorry” she whispered to him as she dragged her finger down the slope of his nose “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I know you did what you had to do for the good of the people... I said what I said because-“

He cut off her apology by pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss which she returned, her hand moving to rest against his cheek.

“I get it” he muttered against her lips “you don’t need to apologise”

“But I do” she said quickly “you’re a great agent Javi. And I admire you. I want you to know how great and amazing I think you are...” she looked up at him with sadness in her eyes. Desperate for him to know the truth.

“I’m just doing my job (Y/N)” he ran his index finger down the navel between her breasts “but I should apologise to you. For that way I spoke to you”

“I deserved it...” she smiled “for what I said to you”

“I guess we’re even then” he chuckled.

“Hmm, I guess so” she gently pulled his head back down so that she could kiss him again.

Take my breath away

13/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you want to be removed or added to the list)

[yicruz48]

hey, what did you see in Adam Glass' instagram? :ooo I am really curious (and worried af).

Sorry It took me awhile to respond, I just got out of work:)

Here is the conversation Adam Glass had with a reader who (AS MANY OF US) is angry about Damian’s regression. 

So basically summarizing and sliding my opinion on the matter:

Adam has basically revealed DC’s plans for Damian in the future (either intentionally or not). 

Adam Glass’s run tried (emphasis on ‘tried’ because that definitely didn’t get through in his writing to the readers) to explore Damian’s darkness (and its connection to his humanity). 

DC Comics plan (A plan that Glass supports himself), is to lead Damian to his own destruction in order to for him to discover himself and his identity and to come out on the other side better I guess. 

But I personally have a lot issues with these statements and plans. 

I can fully agree that Damian before rebirth had a lot of development yet to be explored. Damian by no means is a perfect character and still has some flaws in his thinking when it comes to his obsession with his bloodline, his insecurity with his position in the bat family, his toxic loyalty to his father, his attitude towards villain's and other people and so on.  

But the problem is that Glass terribly executed this during this run. At the beginning of his run Damian stated motivations for creating essentially a torture chamber were: 

-> Him seeing a planet die in No Justice. Which as I’ve said before (many times) I really don’t think Damian would’ve give a fuck about because the Justice League tried their best and sacrifices had to be made. And out of all the Batfamily Damian would’ve understood that the most. 

-> His favorite Arab restaurant was blown up by Black Mask, a villian who like many other villains found a loophole in order to get out Arkham. Fed up with Villian’s always escaping and getting away with things (such as blowing up his favorite restaurant and safe haven) he decides to creates his own prison (aka torture chamber). But if you currently read TT, you’ve probably forgotten his information because Glass never emphasized again after the special. How are we the readers, suppose to assume Damian was truly affected by No Justice and his favorite restaurant  being destroyed when it wasn’t mentioned ever again? It is the job of the writer to make this clear by reminding his audience of this every once in awhile. You can not expect the readers to remember these details and make connections without it.

If Damian was truly affected by these events, then it was Glass’s job to go more in depth about how it affected him negatively and his decision-making in the future. One issue and never mentioning it again wasn’t enough. It makes Damian seem like he just used No Justice and his favorite restaurant  blowing up as an excuse to build a prison which destroys his development.

And due to solicitations and wips from Javier Fernandez on instagram, it seems like more reasoning will be given about Damian’s suddenly going all killer and hunting down villians:  

Which by looking at these, it seems he will be influenced to go down this path because of Dick losing his memories (thanks to KG Beast) and Alfred dying in front of him (thanks to Tom King). 

But I have one big issue with this that my friend @wesavegotham brought to my attention and that is incredibly important to keep in mind:

In order for a character to suddenly begin killing and going down a dark path there needs to be a trigger; or an event that happens that pushes this character to make a change in their opinions. 

Yes, we may be given reasons as to why Damian starts potentially killing but these reasonings came far too late. 

-> Dick losing his memories happened about more than 2 years ago and as if a few days ago we just received the news that Dick will return most likely in Batman issue  # 99.

->Alfred dying happened almost a year ago. 

Using these as reasonings NOW after so much time has passed since these issues came out AND months has gone by in DC Universe no longer makes these reasonings triggers. 

As in the name, “Trigger” occurs right AFTER the event happens, not months after it happens because then it becomes a weak reasoning (aka excuse) to start killing.

If you only read Teen Titans, then this may be satisfying reasoning's to go killer.

But most people who read comics, read more than one comic. Those of us reading Batman, Detective comics and Nightwing along with Teen Titans,  it just gives us the impression that Damian is using these reasons as excuses because we know months has past in other comics. Which again, makes Damian look bad and unjustified in his reasonings. 

If you were going to use these as triggers in order for him to start killing maybe mentioning them a bit in issues beforehand would’ve been a obliviously good idea in order to legitimize these reasonings for most readers who read  more than one comic. You could’ve had one of the Teen Titan’s asking Damian directly why he was acting differently earlier in the run and Damian shunning them for prying in his personal issues. Or having a member of the group who knows this information being aware of it as a possible reasoning for Damian’s change in opinion (Wallace West ii knows Wally so he may be aware of the situation with  Nightwing, Emiko’s older brother works with the Justice League, so she may be aware of Nightwing’s absence). Even just Glass writing the members being aware of some attitude change in Damian (and connecting it to something probably personal) would’ve cut it if you had to delay shedding Dick and Alfred as reasonings for this attitude change for future issues. 

As a writer, it is your job to sell the reasonings as to why Damian changed the opinions he previously held in Tomasi’s run and Glass didn’t sell it for me. If you wanted me to seriously consider the events of No Justice and the restaurant blowing up as initial triggers for Damian’s change in direction then you needed to advertise and sell to me your reasonings for this. As a consumer, I received no following advertisements to convince me. Again it is the job of the writer to make this clear. I am not gonna clearly remember an issue that came out nearly two years ago ESPECIALLY since I read multiple comics.  

If you are going to destroy a character in order for them to later be “reborn” you needed to convince me why the destruction was necessary for their development and why a rebirth is essential for this character to grow when he already had a whole book dedicated to his redemption (Robin: Son of Batman). 

When Damian killed Nobody earlier in Batman and Robin (2011) and killed someone in Batman Incorporated both Tomasi and Morrison made it clear why he decided to kill them and break his promise with Bruce. Which both were connected to the fact Damian was afraid of losing his father and family. 

Even Damian’s first kill after meeting his father (Spook) was justified by Morrison. Damian killed Spook in order to show his worth and ability to his father in the only way he knew at that time; by killing his enemies. You couldn’t really blame him for not knowing better when he raised to think killing anybody was justifiable.  

Again, I am not frustrated by Damian going down a dark path in order to grow as a character. I am angry that it was handled so poorly that it portrays my favorite character in a bad light as if people didn’t already see him in a bad light and bash me for liking such a character like Damian.    

[allie1804-fan]

Please Assist Me

So this is a new fic. I’ve not fully worked out where it’s taking me so watch this space. I’ve written quite a bit so let’s see how anyone likes the first little bit!

Chapter 1

He said

She was the third person we’d seen that morning. Cheryl was with me. I knew I could rely on her instincts to sniff out anyone the agency had sent who was likely to spell trouble. Of course, the agency promised to screen people so you didn’t get a nutter or an under-cover journo applying but Cheryl didn’t have total faith in their skills.

The first two had basically proved her right, being far more interested in looking round my house, asking who I might have visiting or unsubtly trying to see what freebies there might be than in finding out what the job really entailed. I was about to embark on my second directing project and I had an acting part too, so knew I was going to be all in as usual. That dedication to work would mean taking care of daily life would fall by the wayside.  I’d need someone to take care of travel arrangements if I was needed out of town, there would be some bills to pay, grocery shopping and all the other day to day crap like being around for deliveries or letting a plumber in or making sure birthday cards were sent. I didn’t say so but basically I was after an old style wife but without the relationship! I also needed to keep a certain amount of control, a small chink of ‘real’ if you will. So, if it was my sister’s birthday, I’d choose the gift and write the card but maybe I could use some help finding options to choose from given how busy I would be on set.

Sophia was the first of the interviewees who seemed to grasp the importance of this aspect to me and she asked good questions about the practicalities of me being involved where necessary. She was also the only one who seemed like she knew her way around a kitchen and one of my needs was going to be a little food preparation every now and again especially as I needed to watch my diet to keep in shape for the demands of the role.

After 2 more, frankly useless candidates were seen and ruled out, we both agreed that Sophia was the one. She wouldn’t be able to travel with me on shoots or promotional tours as she had 2 small children, but my main needs were going to be at home for the foreseeable future and things like buying a gift or a card for someone could be managed at a distance with modern technology and planning. A week after the interview, Sophia came over again for an induction session.

It took me a moment to invite her in – I was kind of stunned as I looked at her – I don’t think I’d really taken in how attractive she was at the interview,  being focussed on the interviewing task and making sure I was asking each interviewee exactly the same questions in order to be fair. That morning she was like a sunflower, clad in a bright yellow, sleeveless sundress. Her long brown hair was up in a practical ponytail and the dress contrasted beautifully with her tanned arms and legs, highlighting her Latin American heritage.

She followed me down the hallway to the kitchen, clutching a notebook which she’d brought to make notes on the tasks. By the end of our session, I felt in safe hands and she left with everything she needed to be my personal assistant starting with a one month trial period.

She said

My first real life encounter with Keanu was when I had an interview for the role of personal assistant. I hadn’t ever done a role like this having only recently signed on with a job agency after my divorce from Javier. Before that I had been a housewife and mum to our 2 kids Eva, who is 7 and Miguel who is 5.  Back before the kids were born, I had done a little modelling and in between jobs had done some “runner” jobs working on sets with A list actors. That experience, and my general organisational skills and domestic experience had identified me as someone suited to this role.

Of course, I’d seen Keanu on the silver screen like anybody else in all those big roles which made it all the more surreal to be heading up into the Birds streets for the interview with him and his PR lady Cheryl at his house no less.

Cheryl was charming but also quite formidable, giving me the impression that she’d kick the ass of anyone who messed with her client! Keanu himself was all charm but kind of shy and bumbling as he tried to explain the slightly unusual mix of mundane and personal tasks he was going to want help with.

The mundane were things like making sure his Koi carp were fed, that the pool guy, cleaner and gardener were  let in on the right days, getting his dry cleaning and some grocery shopping done. The personal was basically, as I saw it, the things a wife or partner would help a man like him do If he had one  - he wanted to make sure birthday cards and gifts were bought for his close friends and family but he would play a role in choosing them. He just needed someone to narrow down the options, make the actual purchase and wrap the gift. If he could, he’d deliver it in person but if he couldn’t do that, at the very least he’d write out a personal message himself.  

There would be some advanced planning to make sure all that happened on time as he’d soon be on set for long days on his next project. I suggested that I’d need to come over on a Saturday sometimes to  make sure he could add those personal touches.  

The job was basically perfect for me as I would be able to get everything done while the kids were in school and kindergarten. He didn’t expect me to travel when he did  - he could use hotel services when away and declared himself not so pampered or busy that he couldn’t organise some basic stuff for himself while he was away. He also had a place in New York so, if he had to go there , he had a home base. His main concern was that his LA home kept running well and I could handle all of that.

I was thrilled when I got the call that the job was mine and it was with excitement that I made my way back to his home a week later to get a more detailed briefing and start my month’s probation.  

I stood on the doorstep for what felt like a long minute after he opened the door. I had a moment of fear that he’s somehow changed his mind or forgotten our appointment but he eventually shook his head like he was jolting himself out of a day dream and invited me in.

“sorry, sorry, what am I like leaving you standing there! Come, come in!”

I followed him into the house and we headed down the long corridor and into the bright kitchen where we sat at the island and he took me through his diary and my tasks for the month. He gave me an iPad to use with an e mail already set up as KCR_assistant@outlook.com and a credit card I could use for the purchases he needed me to make on his behalf.

He was  starting on set the following week and his sister Kim’s birthday was a couple of weeks away. Since she lived in Italy this would be one of the more challenging gifts to organise. He shared a little about her and took me to his office to proudly show me her picture which was on a wall filled with family portraits.

“This is a test right?” I remember asking.

“nah, nah don’t see it like that ….” He stuttered

“But it’s really important to you right?”  I countered and he nodded, smiling slightly

“yeah, yeah Kim, she ……… she’s very  important to me”

“As she should be” I said. “I promise to get you some great ideas along the lines you want in a day or two so you can pick and we can get it to her on time.”

“Thanks”

I hoped I’d do Kim justice – I really needed to keep this job.

On my first day, I headed up to Keanu’s house after dropping the kids at school and shopping for groceries that had been on the list Keanu had e mailed the night before.

Laundry wasn’t in my remit, but I spotted as I went in through the garage that there was a load in the tumble dryer due to finish soon. Keanu must have forgotten it. I made a note to pop back and fetch it after I’d done some other jobs.

In the kitchen, I put away the supplies and got on with making the elements of a Caesar salad with chicken that Keanu could quickly throw together after work.

Then it was time to start gift hunting for Kim. Keanu was interested in getting her a vintage Italian coffee set and we’d agreed it made sense to source it from Italy. Being a native Spanish speaker, I could muddle my way through Italian websites and I narrowed the choices down to 3 which I            e-mailed to him as well as dropping him a text in case he didn’t check his e mails. He’d said he would have some down time during the day but he wouldn’t be expecting me to share ideas for a day or two.

By then it was 2pm and I needed to head off soon to fetch the kids. I grabbed the laundry and left a pile of t shirts (all Arch branded) and boxers neatly folded on his bed. I hoped he’d appreciate that I’d not left them to grow damp again in the dryer and that he wouldn’t feel weird that I’d touched his undies! If I’m honest it did feel a bit surreal to me to be in his home, dropping him e mails and texts, doing his shopping and folding his undies but I reminded myself that he was just a guy and, really, so far he’d been pretty down to earth in my dealings with him – well apart from the $1000 budget I had for Kim’s gift that is!

 @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @keanureevesisbae @penwieldingdreamer @witty-wallflower @paperplanesandwallflowers @bitchyslut99 @ladyreapermc @toomanystoriessolittletime @fanficsrusz @keanuficfiles

[verai-marcel]

What Is Real (RDR2 Fanfic, Corrections AU, Javier x Fem!Reader, Part 1 of 2, 18+)

Summary: You’re a barista at the Strada Cafe, and you’ve noticed that a couple of men who seem somewhat familiar have been visiting lately, with two of your regulars. You have a hard time believing that it’s Arthur & Charles, two of the bouncers from the BDSM club you used to attend when you lived in the big city. Then one of their friends shows up, and now you’re 100% sure it’s them, because you couldn’t forget those warm brown eyes and charming demeanor if your life depended on it.

Author’s Notes: My first true Javier x Reader fic. @eddescuella, @mrsescuella, @javiescuellx, I dedicate this to you.

Tags: Javier x Reader, smut, D/s, plot, romance, drama, dirty talk, name-calling, spanking

AO3 Link is here, baby.

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

Chapter 1: We Meet Again

Word Count: 2788

"Good morning!" you said cheerfully as the front door opened, the bells jingling daintily.

Two men greeted you with a polite smile and a nod before sitting at a corner table. They must be waiting for someone, you thought, as they did not stop to purchase something from the counter. 

You had seen the two men more often recently, but not together; in fact, you had seen them paired with two of your regulars, the veterinarian and the prison guard. Part of you felt strange, seeing them here in this city after so long. They didn’t recognize you, which was a relief. Then again, you wouldn’t blame anyone for not recognizing you if they saw you outside of that club.

Two years ago, when you moved to this city to start over, you swore off your other life. You had been a grocery clerk by day, and at night you would go down to the Free & Brave, dressed to the nines in your best latex dress, and play your heart out.

But you had gotten too close to a certain club employee; he was just doing his job and you were addicted to his services, coming back to the club again and again, just for him. In hindsight, it was cringey, the way you always looked for him, the way just one smile from him would light up your whole night. His suave mannerisms, his voice, and his guitar playing were only part of the whole package. You sincerely cared about him as a whole person, but you were starting to feel foolish, knowing that he didn’t feel the same way.

So when you got fired from your job, you decided it was time to leave the big city and head east, away from the complicated feelings, away from your addiction, away from everything. On one hand, you wanted desperately to see him again, and on the other, you wanted to just forget about what you had been.

Every date, every lover, every one night stand you’d had since then? No one could compare. You were never satisfied.

The door jingled open again.

“Good morning!” you said before turning to the door. You paused for a split second, your heart leaping into your throat. Forcing it back down, you continued. “Welcome to Strada Cafe!”

“Hi,” the man that haunted your memories said with a polite smile. He looked around and spotted the other two men and waved at them. “I’ll come back to order something,” he said to you before he joined his friends.

Your heart was hammering. Did your eyes deceive you?

Was that… Javier?

***

“Hello gentlemen,” Javier said as he walked towards the two men who looked back at him with neutral expressions. He had emailed them, asking to meet up. When they agreed to meet him in a cafe, he was both relieved and anxious; after all, he was the one who had pushed them away when they had told him the truth about the Free & Brave’s secret operations. So he understood why they weren’t exactly welcoming him back with open arms.

“Javier,” Arthur said, nodding at him. “Been a long time.”

“A couple of years at least,” he replied. “A lot has happened.”

Charles stayed quiet, watching Javier sit down.

“Listen, about… the club.” Javier took a breath and blew it out slowly, a contrite look on his face. “You were right. You were both right. I should’ve left. I just… I didn’t want to see the truth.”

“At least you see it now, right?” Arthur asked. When Javier nodded, he continued. “So where’ve you been?”

“The feds detained all of us, told us to not leave town while they did the investigation. I had to get a job somewhere, so I worked at a restaurant for a while. The feds kept bringing me in for questioning. It was a mess. Different agents would ask me the same question, over and over. But I didn’t have anything to tell them. When they finally told me I was free to go, I started looking for a quiet place to live. Moved out here a couple of days ago. John told me you two lived out here.”

“You still talk to John?” Charles asked.

“We email sometimes. Not much talking, really,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh,” was all Charles could say. He suspected there was more to this than just Javier’s response, but he didn’t have any desire to pry.

“So how’ve you two been doing?” Javier asked, changing subjects.

Charles and Arthur both shrugged. “Doin’ fine, I s’ppose,” Arthur replied. “Just workin’ almost every day, gettin’ by.”

Javier nodded. “Sounds… nice.” He sighed. “I’ll just cut to the chase. I need to find a new job.”

“You tried the internet?” Charles asked, a bit sarcastically.

Javier ignored the jab at his intelligence, though it grated a little at his pride. “I did, but I was hoping one of you had a lead.”

Arthur shook his head. “We don’t. Our boss isn’t hiring at the moment.”

Charles glanced at Arthur before responding. “We’ll let you know if she needs another person.”

Javier bowed his head. “Thank you." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I know things didn’t end well back there, but I want to start over. You two were the most level-headed guys at that place.” 

He held out his hand. "I’m sorry for what I said. Forgive me.”

Charles took his hand and shook it firmly. “It’s alright. Water under the bridge.”

When Javier turned to Arthur and offered his hand, Arthur glanced at Charles, who nodded imperceptibly. Taking his hand, he shook it once before letting go. “I haven’t forgotten, Javier.”

Wrinkling his brow at Arthur’s response, Javier nodded. “I understand. Let me buy you a drink, then you can go about your day.”

***

You couldn’t overhear the three of them talking clearly, but you knew that there was something going on, when Javier shook both of their hands, and then got up and walked towards the counter. You fumbled your pencil as you tried to set it down before going back to the register.

“Wh-what can I get for you?” you asked, attempting to hide your nerves.

“Two coffees, black, and a honey lavender latte.”

You blinked. “Alright, anything to eat?”

“No, but thank you.”

You rang him up and turned the tablet to him so he could pay. When he finished and you turned the tablet back to you to complete the order, you noticed he was looking at you in a curious way.

“I think I know you,” he said.

You swallowed. “Um, maybe?” Your voice cracked as you finally looked up at him and met his kind gaze.

Suddenly he smiled. “Don’t lie, querida. I thought I recognized you.”

Querida. His pet name for you at the club. He remembered. And you panicked.

“I, um, well, yes,” you stammered.

“I won’t bother you while you’re working. Can I come see you after your shift?”

“Yes!” you said with far too much enthusiasm. “Come back at 3pm,” you said more quietly. You passed him two cups of black coffee. 

“I’ll be here,” Javier said, winking at you as he went back to his table.

Your heart beating wildly in your chest, you quickly went to make the latte. You knew it was for Javier; after all, his room at the club always had a light lavender scent.

***

After accepting the coffee from Javier, Arthur and Charles made their excuses and left, saying they had other errands they needed to do, leaving Javier to wait for his latte alone. He sat at the table, staring outside and contemplating his future; he had left the big city to start over. It still hurt to think about the past and the choices he made, the sides he took when he should’ve thought about it more carefully.

But he had cared so much about the club. He had cared about Dutch, the man who brought him in, encouraged his talents, encouraged him to be free. He taught him to treat others with respect, to be open to new things, to be a better person altogether.

And instead, he turned out to be the head of an underground crime syndicate, with alleged ties to assassinations and blackmail.

It hurt to have his belief in someone turn out to be so misplaced.

At least he could take comfort in the fact that most of the crew were just as in the dark about the club’s ties to the underground as he was. When he reached out to the others who had left, only Lenny had responded. Without him, Javier would never have gotten in contact with John, to whom he apologized, but got the feeling that he was still angry at him for what he had said before.

He was surprised that John told him where Arthur and Charles were, after he had asked. Maybe it was because he had written that he wanted to apologize to them.

Charles was a forgiving man. Arthur… Arthur still carried a grudge. That much he could tell.

Javier knew things would never be the same. But at least he could start over in this city with the knowledge that he had a chance at reclaiming some of the connections he once had. It gave him hope.

***

“You forgave him so easily.”

“It’s been a couple years, Arthur.”

“Do you even remember what he said to us?”

“I know. But he was intensely loyal to Dutch. When your faith in someone is upended like that…. Some people don’t handle it well.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re a better man than me.”

As they walked to their cars, Charles clapped Arthur on the back. “You’re a good man too, Arthur.”

He shrugged. “If you say so.”

Charles smiled. “Just ask your lady.”

Arthur sighed. He knew what she would say. “Alright, alright.” He pointed at his beat up truck. “I’m goin’ to see her.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

Arthur raised two fingers and waved goodbye as he got into his truck and took off.

***

“Here’s your latte.”

Javier looked up at the barista and smiled. Another connection that he had thought disappeared forever now stood before him. He felt like the world had given him a second chance; he wasn’t going to screw it up.

***

Javier’s dazzling smile blinded you to everything else, and for a moment all you could do was smile back like a fool.

“Where’d your friends go?” you asked.

“They had things to do,” he said, looking out the window again, looking a little forlorn. 

You immediately sat down, despite knowing that you had to get back to the counter right away. Touching his arm, you gave him a sympathetic look. “You can stay here as long as you need,” you said kindly.

“Thank you,” he said as he turned to meet your eyes. “I’m happy to see you again.”

You felt warm all of a sudden. “Me too,” you said. Patting his arm, you got up and went back to your counter, but you were definitely distracted by the man in the corner.

Eventually, he got up and left, winking at you before he left. “See you at 3,” he mouthed to you while you were ringing up another customer.

You were so distracted that you had to reset the transaction, much to the chagrin of your boss.

***

When 3 o’clock rolled around, you signed out of the Clover station, swapped places with your coworker, and bounded to the back room. As you were clocking out and pulling your stuff out of your locker, your boss came up to you.

“Hey, can we talk?”

Oh god, you thought. “Sure,” you said with some trepidation.

“You made a couple of mistakes today at the register. You caught them before you finalized the transaction, but still.”

You nodded. “I know, I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“Alright. Also, don’t flirt with the customers.”

You felt your face heat with embarrassment. “I wasn’t flirting, he’s an old acquaintance,” you replied, tamping down your irritation as best as you could.

“Uh huh. Well, you have a good rest of your day.”

As she walked away, you breathed a sigh of relief and quickly left out the back door. Walking around to the front, you saw Javier, waiting for you.

He had on a pair of brown chukka boots, dark blue jeans, and a black athletic cut T-shirt, tight on his lean muscled body. You could see the bottom of his eagle tattoo that you knew adorned his left pectoral and curved around his shoulder, the tattoo that he had gleefully shown you on a rainy night after a session, telling you how happy he was that he could finally afford to get it.

***

“Isn’t it sore?” you had asked, gesturing at his tattoo.

“A little, but I can handle it. Just to see you, I would brave a thousand needles.”

When he had told you that, your heart had fluttered and a part of you had wished it was all real, a real relationship, not a series of sessions at a fetish club, where you pretended to be someone else.

***

The two of you walked downtown, heading for a small burger place to grab food. You were hungry, and he offered to accompany you, though he had eaten not too long ago. 

You met his eyes, feeling shy all of a sudden. It was strange and yet oddly comforting to see him outside like this. You had never seen him like this before, and yet it felt natural, felt… real.

"So what brings you to town?" you asked, curious.

"I moved here."

You stared at him for a moment. "Really?" 

"Yeah." He was silent for a few moments before he continued. "Wanted a new start. So now I'm looking for a new job."

"We need a new barista," you blurted out before you could think better of it. 

He looked at you for a couple of seconds before he spoke. "Maybe I shouldn't. After all, it isn't good to date a coworker."

You stopped walking as you looked at him in shock. He laughed at your expression, turning around to face you. "Does that surprise you, querida?" 

"Yeah, it does," you said. "I mean, we, back then, I…"

He stepped closer to you and took your hands in his. "Let's start over. We can be real." Caressing your cheek, he leaned in. "What do you say?" 

He was so close. How many times in the past had he been this close? And yet this time was different from all the rest. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes, reveling in the feel of his warm hand on your face. 

"Yes," you finally answered.

***

As you munched on a burger, Javier slowly sipped on a coke. He had asked what you’d been up to the past two years. You just gave him the rundown of how your life was pretty humdrum these days, since you moved here. You weren’t about to tell him everything, about how your addiction to your other life caused you to get fired from your previous job. 

You did tell him about how you spent your spare time writing, trying to put together ideas for a book, but you never got very far, always coming up with new ideas, never settling on one plot.

After a few minutes of silence as Javier absorbed everything you said, he finally spoke.

"The club closed a couple of years ago, pretty soon after you disappeared."

You were shocked. "Why?" you asked. 

He shrugged. “Finances got bad,” he said. “Everyone got laid off. I tried to stay in the city, but it’s hard to make a living there. So I came out here to have a quieter life for a while.” 

You nodded sympathetically.

“How about you?” he asked. “Why did you leave?”

“Same as you, wanted to live somewhere not crazy.” 

Javier laughed. "And yet life is crazy, bringing us back together." He looked over at you, his face turning serious. "Are you getting what you need?" he said in a low voice. 

You nearly choked on your burger, swallowed, took a sip of your soda, and looked up at him. His sympathetic gaze did things to your heart, things that you were not prepared for. 

"No," you finally answered. "I missed you."

Javier's fingers caressed your cheek. "I missed you too, querida."

You reached up and held his hand, taking it away from your face. "Let's try being… normal. Maybe we go on a date first?"

He chuckled. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

You nodded. Normalcy, that’s what you wanted right now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 2 is here.

[fiveknivesdates]

No one's gonna stick the pieces together for you

Camilla

Name: Shira Omuraliev

Id number: -05

Birth: October 19th, 1991

Arrival: February 4th, 2000

Gender: Female

Room number: 5

Nationality: American

Specialities: Transformation

Languages spoken: English.

History: Born in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania to Aibek and Azra Omuraliev. Has two siblings, her twin sister Dinara and younger brother Devin whom she has not met. Started using her powers in late 1999 and joined the Organization a couple months later.

That was all that stood on the first page in the book. Two pictures were plastered on the left side of the page, one of a young girl that must be Shira when she arrived. The other looked as if it could have been taken yesterday. She was wearing that same gold eyeliner and her short black hair looked wild. I stared at the pictures for a long while, looking at her smile, her eyes, her hair. Young Shira had long, straight black hair. There was something about these two pictures that irked me deeply. Maybe it was seeing a younger version of somebody I had just met, making her somehow seem more real. This picture of Shira from years ago was proof that she was a person with a life and a story to tell. She had big teeth and was wearing a red t-shirt with butterflies on. She was just a kid, and already she had come to this place. Already she had begun controlling the world around her. She had grown so much, still looking at the newer picture, it was clear that she was still young. There was still a child inside of her, longing to be set free. I saw it in the way she lined her eyes in that shimmering gold, the way her hair had both grown shorter, but also wilder.

There was more to Shira than I had first thought. I needed to know who she had been four years ago when Javier and Miriam were killed. I needed to start somewhere, I needed to dig deep into everything about her if I wanted to know if she could have done it, and as I had just learned a few hours ago, nothing was impossible.

When I heard knocking on my door, I was sure it must be Shira. She had shown me around yesterday, so why shouldn’t she also be the one to check up on me today? However, when I opened the door, I wasn't greeted by a black bob cut, but a cloud of golden curls. Erika was fidgeting with her silk skirt as I looked her up and down.

“Good morning,” She said cheeringly. “It’s time for breakfast, then we’ll begin lessons”

“Lessons?” I asked bewildered as I followed her down the hall to the elevator

“Didn’t Shira mention?” Erika asked me. “Well, you are supposed to receive lessons by everyone, starting with me today”

“For the whole day?”

“No, you’ll get plenty of free time to roam.” Erika answered as the doors opened to the Kitchen and Common Room. “But after dinner we have obligatory training on floor 14”

“What's on floor 14 again?” I asked as we sat down by the kitchen table.

“That’s the maze,” Erika said. “Adi and Shira are turning it into a city so we can practice urban combat and chase.”

“Is it really clever to make everybody compete with each other?” I asked as I sipped the mug of coffee Erika had handed me, then I continued, clarifying: “After yesterday’s dinner?”

“Clever? No, not if you asked me,” Erika answered truthfully. “Necessary? Yes, if you asked Adi”

“How long till I’ll meet your leader?”

“Depends,” Erika said with a sly smile, a beckoning for me to remember a conversation we’d been a part of a few days ago. “Adi is a busy man, but maybe if you ask nicely he’ll let you visit him in his workshop”

“So your leader is too busy to meet your newest member?” I asked, then leaned over the table to punctuate what I was about to say. “Or does he just not care enough to bother?”

If you asked me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you how I knew to strike where I did. The truth is, I sensed something about Erika and the way she said Adi’s name, like she was uttering the name of a god long forgotten. She was the only one who said his name like that, like it meant more than any other word in every other language. It made me believe that she felt strongly about the guy. It made me think that if I ever said something rude about him, she’d take offense to it.

That’s why I let my mouth run.

Erika smiled at me, unbothered. The only thing indicating her irritation was her fingers that wrapped a little tighter around her own mug of coffee. “Adi cares, but he sometimes gets a little stuck in his study”

“Why don't we go down and visit him, then?” I asked with no idea of why I was going this far to meet another new face when I was already exhausted from all the new faces I had met.

“Like I said,” Erika chirped. “We would have to ask nicely”

“We are not allowed in the workshops?”

“We are not allowed in his workshop.” I could see the gentle lines and sweet smile begin to fade on Erika’s face, into a tired annoyance. A triumph. She continued: “And why do you even want to visit him so badly? You’ll get your chance soon enough to see him”

I didn't know why I wanted to see him. To see who was the mastermind behind my kidnapping? To meet the most powerful of the most powerful? Adi was their leader, he must be more powerful then the others, more wise. Or maybe I just want answers.

I don't have any questions on my mind, I am perfectly question free. I am the only one who knows who I am. Still I seek answers, seek purpose. A reasoning.

I don't know.

I don't know what I am seeking, I just know that I have been grasping towards something my entire life and being here, seeing magic unfold inside of myself, it all makes me feel like I am close to finding what I was looking for all that time. I desperately want to close my hand and feel my own life inside of it, and I thought Adi might be the key for me to do so. When in a castle, you go to the king for purpose, not his servants.

“I just do,” I tell Erika, a truthful lie. The kind of lie I have a talent for telling.

“Let’s wait till after your lesson” Erika said with a force behind her words. I close my mouth and look down into my food.

The entirety of Floor Ten is dedicated to training. There is a big empty room with swords and other tools for fighting are lined along the wall. Inside another room is a swimming pool, which I found strange, seeing as we are surrounded by water already.

We entered a small room with a round table in the middle and a whiteboard covering an entire wall.

“Sit down, please.” Erika said, so I did. “Welcome to your first theory lesson.”

I got up right away. I am not here to listen to Erika ramble on about magic while I just sit quietly. I wanted to practice, I wanted to use magic.

“Camilla sit down, please” Erika said again, still with that polite tone but now with more power behind it, so I sat down. I didn't mean to sit down, it just sort of happened. I look up at Erika and she is smiling at me, all sunshine and goldm and I want to tear the smile of her face. I was beginning to figure out that Erika’s smile was unwavering. I knew I was getting on her nerves, I could see that clearly in the way her hands gripped the back of the chair she was standing behind, but still she continued to smile at me.

“I don't want to be here,” I said plain and simple.

“You’ll get to use your powers for the rest of your life,” Erika wheddled. “But it’ll be easier if you know what you are doing. This isn’t just fun and games. We are born with the power to tamper with the universe, don't you think we owe the world to be careful with those powers?”

I didn’t care about the world, I just wanted to know myself. I didn't say as much to Erika but instead folded by hands and waited for her to get on with the lesson.

The lesson lasted until lunch, with no breaks. It was easy stuff, mostly Erika talking about how our powers and the universe works, with only a few mentions of the kind of missions the Organization sent it’s Tethered on, but for a girl like me who has not been in school for four years, I was suddenly reminded of how hard it is to sit still and listen for a prolonged time.

According to Erika, the magic we used was the thing that bound the universe together and made things happen. It’s that happening that we control, that we use to run fast or swim further or light up the world. Few people have this power, and it is unpredictable who gets to be born with the powers. She said the last part like she was answering a question I had yet to say out loud, and when she did I realized it was one of the questions inside of me. Why was I picked? Why me?

The Organization is a funny thing to me. It’s old, older than I can properly grasp, and it’s sole purpose is to protect humankind. That means also protecting Earth. The Organization is led by an elected Tethered, that being the mysterious Adi at the moment. Adi, born in 1770, is the oldest member of the Organization, but he is not the oldest known Tethered.

Erika explained that it takes time to learn new powers, which is why it’s a general rule that the older a Tethered is, the more dangerous.

“But age isn't the only thing that makes us more powerful.” Added Erika. “We all have a bucket, which we use to draw magic from the well of the universe. Imagine if you used your bucket, but gave whatever was in it to someone else. Someone who already knows how to drink the water.”

“Sounds very wise,” I admitted “But I don’t really get it”

“Well,” Erika offered “Point is we can boost each others powers. It’s usually done by physical contact, like holding hands. It’s one of the reasons the Organization is so effective. Drifters have to rely on their own powers and knowledge, but we can share those things.”

“If that’s true, how are the Drifters even benefiting from being alone?” I speculated aloud.

Erika’s eyes lit up. “That is a good question. Why stay alone when you could work together? Why wander the earth, older than any other human around you; lonely. Why do that of your own free will when it’s so easy to reach out your hand to people like you?”

She knew that I knew the answer, and I did. I was alone too, maybe not for as long as some of the Drifters around the world, but that hardly mattered. Fact was that I ran away because I wanted to be alone, because I wanted to be free. They all traded power for solitude, a choice that might sound ridiculous to most people who didn’t know that solitude is sometimes another word for freedom. I knew now that I could not stay here. I am a creature who feeds of freedom, who always shys away from people. I had to stay for a bit, at least until I figured out how to use my powers, then I’d run away and make a life of my own. Alone.

“I think you know the answer, don't you?” Erika prodded.

“I do” I said simply

“People are predictable,” Erika continued on with her lesson. “And we, the Tethered, are still just people. Some of us need connection to other human beings to feel alive, and others can only be themselves when they are alone.” I couldn’t help but tune her out, focusing instead on the glass from where I could see the deep of the ocean. It was light outside again, like the ocean lit up with the sun, even if the actual rays of light could not reach this far underwater.

“What happened to Javier and Miriam?” I cut in. Erika looked taken aback for about half a second, then she composed herself.

“They were found dead.” She began, careful with her words. “First it was Javier in Germany. Him and Zeph were on a mission and they had split up for a bit. Zeph said when he came back to their camp, Javier was laying in the snow with a knife in his shoulder and his heart bigger than his head; murdered by another Tethered.”

“And Miriam?” I asked when Erika stopped.

She smiled and looked down at her own hands. “Miriam was our leader. Brave, smart, funny. Lynn found her dead right there,” She pointed towards the seafloor that I could see clearly through the glass. A single stone was raised in the water. “There had been an earthquake. She was laying on the ground, her hands gripping onto the stone and her lungs shattered.”

“And you don't know who did this?” I asked

“You know we don't,” Erika pointed out.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I want to find out who did it”

Erika looked me over, then shook her head. “You are in more danger than any of us. You can’t even control your powers properly, how are you supposed to defend youself from a murder? Take my advice and keep your head low while you train”

“Okay” I lied. Erika eyed me again, unconvinced, but still she continued with the lesson.

Erika takes me down to the 13th floor, which is a giant garden. The walls here aren't glass, but mirrors, making the garden seem endless. There are areas where vegetables and herbs are grown in rows, and even a section of fruit trees standing in line like a mini orchard, but the rest of the garden is an overgrown mess. Erika leads me towards a giant willow tree beside a small lake, and we sit down to eat our lunch.

Earlier today I decided that I would investigate Shira. A big part of me didn’t believe she could be the murderer. She just seemed too innocent, too carefree, but my life had taught me that you never knew just what people could be capable of. I wondered, not for the first time, if you could read it on my face how many people I had killed, or if I still had some of my innocence left.

“Can I ask you something?” I started out.

“Of course.” Erika said, looking out at the lake. There must be some sort of artificial light source hidden over us, because in that fleeting moment it looked like Erika was sitting underneath the sun, her hair ablaze in the spots where the light shone through the leaves over us.

“What does ‘transformation’ mean? I saw it on Shira’s page in that book”

“Oh, it's her powers,” Erika explained, turning towards me. I wish she would have kept looking out at the lake, because with her eyes on me I felt exposed, like she could read all my secrets. She properly could. “She has the ability to transform one thing into another. Like, wood into stone or lead into gold.”

I thought about Shira and her gold jewelry. It must be real gold she wore, real gold made by herself. I recalled Erika telling me about Javier’s death. His heart had grown bigger, until it couldn’t fit inside his chest. Shira was familiar with manipulating objects. It wouldn't be out of her capabilities to ruin organs. The mental image of Shira stabbing another person and making his heart grow felt wrong. Still it did not feel impossible.

“Was her and Javier friends?” I asked Erika.

“Kinda,” Erika answered. “They weren't anything special. Javier spent most of his time hanging with Zeph or Aiden, and Shira was mostly found down in the workshops with Adi. But that didn't mean they werent friends, ya know. Everyone here are friends”

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Everyone here were friends” Erika reiterated. “Believe it or not, we didn't used to be this messy. We used to be friends. We had movie nights and we went clubbing each friday. Of course none of us are in the mood for those things since they died.”

“Do you think Shira could have done it?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before my brain caught up.

Erika laughed, shortly. “No, have you met her? Shira couldn't even hurt a fly, as if she would even stand a chance against Miriam.”

“Was Miriam strong?”

“The strongest” Erika sighed. “She was old, very old.”

“But Javier? Could she have done that?”

“I don't see why you are interested”

“Precautions” I said, simply.

Erika looked at me then, and I wished that I had never asked her anything. She looked right through me and it made my soul shake. “Don't try to play detective, Camilla.”

I left with the sound of my own name ringing from her lips. <-- Previous chapter // Next chapter --> Chapter index

[365footballorg-blog]

Football's Che Guevara? Behind the enigma of Guardiola

Pep Guardiola is the son of a bricklayer who has been described as the Che Guevara of football – but who exactly is the Manchester City manager?

As he comes towards the end of his second season in England the 47-year-old remains something of an enigma in the country in which he now lives.

I have been following his life and career for more than 20 years, talking during that period to him and the key people who have helped shape the person he has become.

Working on an update of my Guardiola biography Another Way Of Winning, I caught up with them to discover whether he remains the same – or whether England has changed him.

(Listen to Pep Guardiola – 5 live sport special at 19:00 BST on Wednesday)

Old-fashioned values and Italian loafers

Guardiola was born 70km from Barcelona in the sleepy town of Santpedor, which lies in the shadow of the rocky outline of Monserrat, a giant, iconic, serrated mountain so precious to Catalans.

He was the third of four children born to Valenti Guardiola, a bricklayer, and Dolors Sala and raised in a working-class home with solid family principles and a clear sense of dignity.

The writer and film director David Trueba, who knows him better than many, says of his friend: “Nobody has paid any attention to the fundamental fact that Guardiola is a bricklayer’s son.

“For Pep, his father is an example of integrity and hard work. The family he has grown up with in Santpedor has instilled old values in him, values from a time in which parents didn’t have money or property to hand down to their children.

“When it comes to analysing or judging Guardiola, you must bear in mind that underneath the elegant suit, the cashmere jumper and the tie, is the son of a bricklayer. Inside those expensive Italian shoes there is a heart in espadrilles.”

How Guardiola won the title for City

What City’s goals tell us about the champions

Watch: Guardiola meets Lineker

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And no understanding of Guardiola is complete without a grasp of La Masia, until 2011 the home and production line of the Barcelona Academy set up by Johan Cruyff. For about six years from 1984 it was the home of Guardiola.

“I had the best years of my life at La Masia – a time focused on the single, most non-negotiable dream that I have ever had: to play for Barca’s first team.”

Barcelona and Netherlands legend Cruyff became Guardiola’s great mentor, a man he would meet regularly before and after becoming a manager.

Once a year, generally when the season was over, they would enjoy a long lunch at the famous El Bulli restaurant on the Costa Brava. It was an excuse to chat, drink wine, eat well and have afternoon sea baths.

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Can you imagine? Cruyff and Guardiola, two of world football’s great innovators, enjoying the creative genius of El Bulli owner Ferran Adria, a great culinary inventor and gastronomic inspiration to so many of the world’s great chefs.

The principles are the same. It is not just about being the best at playing the game or cooking the best meal, but more about changing the way the game is played and how the food is served and perceived – while having fun in the process.

Innovation, genius and talent combined with total dedication and unstinting toil and effort comes in many forms, be they sporting or culinary.

In a way, where else would the likes of Cruyff and Guardiola celebrate the end of a campaign?

However, Cruyff is by no means the only influence. Another is Argentine Marcelo Bielsa, the man known affectionately as ‘El Loco’ – the madman.

The former Chile and Argentina boss – most recently the head coach of Lille at club level – is a man of huge influence but relatively few trophies.

“It is important for me to say this about Marcelo because it doesn’t matter how many titles he had in his career,” Guardiola has said.

“We are judged by that – how much success we have, how many titles we have won. But his titles are much less important than how he has influenced football and his football players. That is why, for me, he is the best coach in the world.”

Bielsa told Guardiola during an 11-hour chat at the Argentine’s villa that football is all about an idea, fighting for it, improving players, and never losing the passion.

“Occasionally when I’m asked to do a talk in La Masia, I use the following example,” Guardiola once said.

“Each night when you are going to sleep, ask yourselves if, right then, you’d get up, grab the ball and play for a bit. If ever the answer is ‘no’ then that is the day to start looking for something else to do.”

Guardiola – a life in football Born in Santpedor, Catalonia in 1971, he joined Barcelona at the age of 13. Barca boss Johan Cruyff saw him playing in a youth team game on the right of midfield and told the youth team coach to play him as a defensive midfielder – a position he made his own. Guardiola made his full Barca debut in 1990, remained at the club until 2001 and was part of the ‘dream team’ that won the European Cup in 1992. Guardiola went on to play for Brescia, Roma, Al-Ahli and Dorados before retiring in 2006. He also made 47 appearances for Spain, scoring five goals. Guardiola has managed Barcelona B, Barcelona, Bayern Munich and now Manchester City.

His body is there, but the mind is miles away

If life teaches us anything it is that those who are the very best at what they do are invariably the ones that work the hardest. Pep is no exception.

Eidur Gudjohnsen once told me the story of going to see Guardiola to ask what he wanted from him if he was to stand a chance of getting more playing time at Barcelona. “Your life,” said Pep.

Guardiola’s assistant at City and long-time friend Manuel Estiarte laughed as he told me on many occasions he will be talking to Pep in the knowledge he is simply not listening, immersed instead in analysis of one thing or another.

“His body is there but his mind is miles away,” his friend admits.

They spend lots of time together, along with City’s director of football Txiki Begiristain, and when they relax with a bit of wine, Guardiola is a great storyteller. He laughs at himself and the world of football, but it is not always possible to take him away from it.

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Guardiola is a sponge, keen to learn from anyone from England rugby union coach Eddie Jones to chess grandmaster Garry Kasparov. Perhaps on some level he is making up for his lack of structured education.

The principles he learned, ones he has evolved and improved over time, remain strictly non-negotiable. He might add to them by listening to others, but they are strict.

It goes like this.

What makes a team a unit, what makes this sport fun, is the ball.

Players became players to play with a ball, so let them have it as much as possible. And let’s build around the idea of having it all the time. But the ball burns you. Give it to a colleague as soon as you can. Play quick, play simple. And when you lose it – get it back as soon as you can, because it should hurt not to have it.

If you mix into this belief his obsessive desire to find solutions to problems (not exclusive to him as Cruyff, Bielsa, Mauricio Pochettino and Sir Alex Ferguson are made from the same mould), you find a coach that has developed a new way of winning; not the best way, just a different one.

Former Argentina manager and World Cup winner Cesar Luis Menotti, who earlier this year shared conversation and wine chosen by connoisseur Pep, admits Guardiola has changed football.

“Pep is the Che Guevara of football. I always said a revolutionary wins or dies in the fight and Pep’s idea remains unwavering,” said Menotti.

“He’s never going to change it: he wants to play well, he wants to own the space and he wants command of the ball. And he wants to handle the time, to stay ahead of the curve.”

His obsession with football can lead to feelings of guilt and remorse with those people closest to him, mostly his family.

I remember his dread when he missed out on a concert his daughter was playing in at school because he had forgotten about it and was watching DVDs of matches involving Barcelona’s next opponents, Getafe.

Having a sabbatical after Barcelona was a way to compensate for the time he had been away from them. But three months after saying goodbye to the Camp Nou he started conversations with Bayern.

In the early years of his coaching career he would prepare for any game in the same way, no matter the opponent. Three days before it, he spent hours watching videos of the rival, identifying weaknesses.

Then he would show clips to the players followed by a training session solely about the match.

It is here you will find Guardiola’s real magic. Once he has spotted a weakness in an opponent’s armour he can explain to his players how to exploit it.

Speaking about the 2011 Champions League final at Wembley – when Barca beat Manchester United 3-1 – Javier Mascherano told me: “While he was talking it wasn’t as if he was referring to a game that we were about to take part in, it was as if we were actually playing it right there.

“He was up and down, side to side in front of the board, gesticulating and if you shut your eyes you were out there in the middle of the action.

“Everything that he said would happen, happened as he said it would. During the match I was thinking, ‘I’ve seen this already, I’ve already heard all about it – because Pep has already told me about it’.”

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A man who needs to be liked?

Like most people, Guardiola is a man who would like to be popular. The difference is that unlike many he will not compromise his principles for popularity.

He cannot afford to do so if he wants to get to where he wants to get to – but perhaps it was not always like that. In the past he could not handle a bad look from a player, say Samuel Eto’o or Thierry Henry, but now he understands it is part and parcel of the job.

Ask him and he will tell you that one of his biggest challenges is to ensure that his players love him and believe in him.

He would like to be able to explain to a player why they have been left out – but knows they will never understand.

“I was a footballer, I know why they feel that way,” Pep admits. So part of the job now is to find a bench full of good people because it helps to make, he says “a team of champions”.

To do so, Guardiola reckons it is important to make his players realise the privileged life they lead as footballers.

“He showed us a video that was really emotional,” said Pablo Zabaleta, who played for him at City last season. “I nearly cried. Some of the players were crying.

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“There were some people from Barcelona who were working with immigrants, rescuing people from the streets. And he brought the physios and everyone in and said I want you all to see how lucky you are to be doing what you are doing. We have the best building, the best training ground, we stay at the best hotels.'”

He was very closely and emotionally linked to his players at Barca and said he had to leave because they were going to “hurt each other” as there were difficult decisions to make.

At Bayern the cultural clash helped maintain some distance with some of the German footballers (even though he got very close to Philipp Lahm and Kimmich) and at City he has become an older brother or father figure to a very young squad.

Last season he took his large family, wives and girlfriends included, to a popular Spanish restaurant in town.

When David Silva had a son born prematurely earlier this season the rule was clear. “David, you tell me when you have to go to Spain and we will adapt.”

With Joe Hart there was never anything personal, just the style of a goalkeeper who could not adapt to the new City plan.

Samir Nasri and Yaya Toure were in such poor shape physically when he arrived that he expected them to improve on that before being made part of the group. When you are asked to win, there is no space for passengers. Even if later on you decide to change your mind, as happened briefly with Yaya Toure.

A man with a truly Catalan soul

Pep is a product of Santpedor, a village that has kept a close link to Catalan culture, its history and identity.

He is therefore a proud Catalan, with fundamental core values and an inherent sense of justice instilled in him by his family and his environment from the very start. You can add to this an acute sense of the importance of symbology.

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When a 21-year-old Guardiola stood on the balcony of the Placa Sant Jaume in Barcelona at the home of the Catalan Parliament in 1992 and raised the European Cup with the words “Ciutadans de Catalunya, ja la tenim aqui” (Citizens of Catalonia, at last we have her here) he was paraphrasing former Catalan leader Josep Tarradellas.

Tarradellas had been exiled in France since 1939 but returned on 23 October 1977 – two years after Spanish dictator General Franco’s death – and from the same place that Guardiola would later lift the trophy he proclaimed: “Ciutadans de Catalunya, ja soc aqui!” (Catalan for “Citizens of Catalonia, I am here at last!”).

Guardiola has always felt comfortable being the spokesman of a team.

He is a firm believer in Catalonia’s right to independence from Spain but that is a long way from saying he is an extremist, or a politician in the making.

His much-discussed wearing of a yellow ribbon is not a call for independence but rather a protest against the imprisonment of democratically elected politicians by the Spanish government.

“Before a manager, I am a human being,” he said. “There are four guys in prison. There are other guys, who are outside of Catalonia; when they come back, they are going to be jailed, imprisoned for rebellion and sedition. It’s not about politicians, it’s about democracy.”

When he left Barcelona in 2012, a rumour abounded in the city. “He will come back as a president,” it was said.

He now says what was originally going to be a short coaching career could extend to his late fifties. And after that? If you write every chapter in advance, there is no mystery in the journey. So, he would tell you, who knows?

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The door that’s always open – how Pep has transformed City

To fully understand why and how he has transformed City we need to look at how he has changed things wherever he has been.

When he took over at Barcelona he explained his ideology and how he wanted to play. Shortly afterwards, goalkeeper Victor Valdes, came to see him. According to Valdes this is how the conversation went:

Valdes: “Can I talk to you boss?”

Guardiola: “My door is always open…”

Valdes: “I need to ask one thing; all that you are talking about is fine, but only if the centre-backs want the ball.”

Guardiola: “I will make sure they want the ball.”

That was it. End of conversation. By his own admission, when his new young coach arrived, Valdes had zero tactical knowledge. Four years later, by the time he left, he could have taken a Phd in the subject.

In its simplest form Pep, who inherited a City side that had finished with the same points as United, has changed the club by identifying what was missing, what was surplus to requirements, and making the necessary changes.

Then it was a matter of train. And train. And train.

And convince them all they could win more and enjoy more with his methods and ideas.

There is more of course. Mark Hughes and Mark Bowen were invited to Pep’s room after the 7-2 defeat of Stoke in October and they asked him about his time at City. How is it different the first season to the second? And how do you keep on motivating them to keep on winning week in week out?

“It’s easy when your two best players work harder and run further than anyone else in your team,” he said. He was referring to De Bruyne and David Silva. “What excuse does any other player have, if those two were doing that?”

Through his career he has transformed players who thought they had made it, who probably thought they had nothing new to learn.

Shortly after Pep’s appointment as head coach at Barcelona, Xavi had been considering his position at the club. Eager to find out where he stood, he went to see the new manager.

Xavi: “I won’t beat around the bush, Pep. I have one question for you; do you count on me?”

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Pep: “I don’t see this team without you in it. I just don’t see this working without you.”

With that, Pep had reignited Xavi’s spark. The whole conversation had lasted less than 20 seconds.

While at Bayern he converted Lahm, one of the best full-backs in the world, into a great midfielder. Pep later called him “one of the most fantastic players I ever trained in my life and one of the most intelligent”.

Lahm went on to captain Germany to victory in the 2014 World Cup, often playing in the centre of the park.

Now at City he has transformed De Bruyne, with whom he has long conversations about football and life. But mostly football.

De Bruyne is one of those players who gets everything with very little explanation. Clearly, he had been doing his homework and knew Guardiola was going to challenge him to come out of his comfort zone.

After the first few conversations, and once he had confirmed his quality in training, Guardiola devised the idea of giving him a more central role.

De Bruyne could almost be considered the first signing of Guardiola’s era because Begiristain knew such a player would fit perfectly in a Pep team. And Pep fully agreed.

Raheem Sterling has been transformed from being a figure of fun into practically a near-certain starter for his country. Defender Nicolas Otamendi was derided and ridiculed by many and has gone on to become one of the most effective defenders in the Premier League.

Most importantly, Ederson apart, the regular starting line-up is filled with players Pep has not bought but rather those there when he arrived at the club.

In fact most of the players that have significantly marked his tenure wherever he has coached (Sergio Busquets, Xavi, Messi, Lahm, Arjen Robben, De Bruyne, Silva, Otamendi, Sterling) were already at their clubs when he arrived there. That, ultimately, is his greatest achievement.

So the question is, has Pep adapted to the Premier League or has the squad adapted to him? Hughes asked Pep what he felt the main difference between the Premier League and the Bundesliga was, and he smiled.

“Not one team in England ever lays down and dies. No matter the score, they keep on trying right to the end,” he said.

But the game is, like everywhere else, 11 versus 11 and the dimension of the pitches are basically the same.

So he has learnt all about his players. He has found out who is good for his style and who is not. Then he has applied to them his principles, which do not change because, otherwise, “what is the point of doing something you don’t feel inside”.

So, more than the Catalan coach adapting to the Premier League, what we are watching is a squad that has adapted to him.

More relaxed and flexible – why Pep might stay at City

For Guardiola to enjoy his job he needs to find it to be a personal challenge, he needs a club that really wants him and people who trust in what he does and believes. It is all interlinked and it is all at City.

That is why I think he will renew his current contract, which is scheduled to expire at the end of next season. He thinks there is still much to be done – and won.

He is happy in a city he knows well, going to music concerts and regularly visiting restaurants with his coaching staff or family – his wife Cristina and his children Valentina, Marius and Maria, who live with him in the city centre.

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Indeed he is working, alongside Begiristain and Ferran Soriano, towards opening a new restaurant with well-known Catalan chef, Paco Perez.

He has found a good balance in the way he approaches things.

He used to be absolute in his view on certain issues, but has become more flexible.

He does not watch three matches of the next rival any more, which at the time he thought vital to avoid anything escaping him. Now he watches selected pictures in half-hour sessions. And so he gets to the games fresher.

He still hates it when the opposition have the ball, but depending on the players he has, he can mould the method of attacking when possession is regained.

In fact, since he left Barcelona, where he thought the team had to attack together and mostly in one particular way, he has learnt different ways of hurting rivals with the ball.

A cabinet full of silverware Guardiola enjoyed a glittering playing career with Barcelona that saw him win six La Liga titles and the Copa del Rey twice. He also won the European Cup and the European Cup Winners’ Cup As Barca boss Guardiola won 14 trophies in four seasons – La Liga (3), Copa del Rey (2), Spanish Super Cup (3), Champions League (2), Super Cup (2), Club World Cup (2) Won a further seven trophies in three seasons at Bayern before leaving for Man City in 2016. After a trophy-less first season in England, he won the EFL Cup this season and has now won the Premier League.

He recently told me he understood why Arsene Wenger talks about having sleepless nights, chewing over decisions and details. He has had them sometimes at City, especially in his first season. It perhaps explains some of his most controversial reactions.

In his first campaign some of the bluntness of his answers to journalists came from a frustration at the lack of consistency of referees, the insistence from the media and certain quarters that he should change and look for a Plan B, and the implication he had to adapt much more to a new environment.

But halfway through that initial year he and his coaching staff decided that what they cannot influence, they had better ignore, which helped calm things down.

His assistants at City are a tightly knit group who firmly believe in Guardiola’s work and are determined to protect him – a wall surrounds them and hardly anything comes out.

He prefers not to give individual interviews but chooses his moments to explain himself.

The Spaniard enjoys travelling to Argentina – “they sell very well what they do and think – and I buy it all!” He has given lectures to audiences of thousands there about his methodology.

He recently made an appearance on Directv Sport, the TV channel that has the rights to broadcast the World Cup in Argentina, promoting their coverage.

After club football he would love to manage a national side, and some in Argentina are already trying to convince him to do so. Brazil was mentioned as a possibility before 2014.

But that will be later. Right now this intriguing and complex man is determined to keep on teaching the philosophy he so fervently believes in – and winning trophies in the process.

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Football's Che Guevara? Behind the enigma of Guardiola was originally published on 365 Football