Charcuterie Challenge

Moody Dieter

Trying for a Mood Board Monday and I had so much fun creating this for @morallyinept. One of my top five favorite series is "Self-Help w/ Dieter and Jett", and Pedge agrees! I've felt inspired in more ways than one, and might try writing for Dieter in the future! Last week's poll was pretty clear, but maybe we tighten it up? Also, extra credit if you can find the flying Pterodactyl....

Friendly Frankie

Ooooh, @auteurdelabre told me they are working on a SECOND coloring book for us!? I'm not even done with the first! An embarrassment of riches! I don't write for Frankie very often, but when I do...I seem to be gushing about it. If you're looking for something saucy, don't forget to check out my "Moody Frankie Fic". Coulda used him last night....Pair it with Frankie's Favorites for the full experience and enjoy :)

Pike's Place; Love Actually

I fell hard for these two, but it wasn't until @burntheedges "Roll-a-Trope Challenge" that I managed to really sink my teeth into this delectable winter treat. Since y'all love them as much as I do, I've started a slow burn Winter Series with the assist of @inept-the-magnificent!

Triggers: profanity, talking lots of talking, a little smut, emergency situation/survival...

Series Masterlist

The firelight danced across Pike’s smiling face as he mischievously hid behind his third cup of hot chocolate, listening to you with delight. “And THEN, I opened the final gift and she had found it. She had found the entire original set that included the author’s notes!” Your face beamed enthusiastically, flush from the nostalgic excitement of another Christmas story.

“I never thought I’d meet someone who loves the holidays as much as I do” Pike stared in wonderment, gently kicking you with a socked foot.

“I mean, as a kid you don’t recognize the nuances at all. All you see is chocolate and games and…MORE GIFTS!” you laughed maniacally, plunging your fingers into Pike’s soft stomach and tickling him viciously as he struggled to grasp you around the waist in protestation without spilling his nearly finished hot chocolate.

“Watch out little girl, I’ve got you right where I want you” Pike laughed through gritted teeth, clamping your body between his knees and setting the cup down on the nearby coffee table.

“Is that so?”you drolled, slowing your tickle attack and gently moving your fingers up his chest and into his hair. Pike swayed his body from side to side, holding you tightly as your lips brushed against his serenely. “Merry Christmas” you mumbled into his mouth, kitten licking for more access as he willingly obliged.

A low moan escaped him as you felt him harden beneath you with longing. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving” he nestled into your neck, kissing at your sternum and jawline slowly. You smiled with happiness running your fingers back down his body and stuffing them into his sweatpants’ pockets. “What do we have here?” you questioned curiously, letting your fingers gently explore over the fabric, finding bristling hair and his hardening length. You paused mischievously, “Christmas ornaments?” dipping your hands lower still as Pike’s eyelids fluttered contentedly.

“Is this the part where I make joke about your Christmas box?” Pike whined, keening beneath you and tilting his hips up to meet you. You shifted your body to the side, pulling his sweat pants down slightly and massaging him languidly. “Only if I get to make a joke about your yuletide log…” you giggled, watching Pike’s face with delight. He bit his lower lip with yearning as you entangled your feet with his.

Pike twitched with surprise, furrowing his brow in consternation. “Okay, Abominable Snowgal…where are your Christmas slippers, your toes are FREEZING” he joked, gripping your chin between his icy fingers. You blushed with embarrassment looking down at your legs which were now bare and bristling with goose bumps. Pulling your nightgown down to cover them, it disappeared, leaving you totally naked atop Pike’s body and shivering violently. A blast of cold air whispered against Pike’s hair, washing over you both like a steely wave of winter as the cabin immediately flickered and darkened bizarrely.

“Can you hear me?” Pike’s voice echoed as he now lay atop you, image blearily coalescing before your eyes. A pounding headache jolted you from your cozy dreamscape as you felt the comparative hardness of the cabin floor beneath you. Your mouth was so dry, no words were forming, just a low moan vibrating in your chest as Pike sighed with relief. You closed your eyes for a moment attempting to return to the cheery warmth of your dream, but Pike protested.

“No, no, no, stay with me” Pike gripped your chin between his icy fingers and rubbed his palm in hard circles against your snow suited sternum. With slight annoyance you blinked rapidly, trying to follow his directions. The dull headache returned with blinding force, clarifying you back into a blurry existence as you wriggled your fingers aside your body. Your lips were numb as you tried to swallow and bring Pike’s concerned countenance into focus. Turning your head to the side the fire was no longer a cheery comfort as it whimpered unceremoniously in a blue haze, the final dregs of smoke curling into small wisps.

“Can you sit up? I’d like to get some water in you…” Pike gently advised, gripping the back of your neck and coaxing you into a sitting position as the room rotated around you.You shut your eyes fixedly as a wave of nausea passed over you, willing the cabin to stop moving like a boat atop the ocean. “Open up” Pike brought a water bottle lightly to your lips as you hungrily sipped, cool water dripping down the front of your chin messily. “Slow, slow…” Pike encouraged, massaging the back of your neck and eventually setting the water down beside you both. You opened one eye hesitantly as the cabin solidified into reality, a cornucopia of images vying for attention. You took a shaky breath, observing the myriad of blankets and pillows piled around you like a fort, shivering slightly in the cooling temperature and immediately noticing the rather large tree limb cascading through the living room window.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Pike joked, bringing both hands to the sides of your face and rubbing small circles into your cheeks. Smiling dolefully you acquainted yourself with your new cataclysmic surroundings.

“What happened?” you rasped, swaying slightly and closing your eyes with the effort.

“Well, how far back do we need to go?” Pike closed his eyes tiredly, finally taking a resolute breath in suspended relief. “My name is Agent Pike and I work for the Art Squad…” he countered as your eyes shot open with incredulity.

“Marcus…” you whined, gripping the hair at the top of his head and pulling his forehead to yours. “Jesus Christ…”

Pike’s body sagged against yours with exhaustion, smiling with reassurance. “What, is He in the room with us now? Apropos for Christmas, but don’t go towards the light…” Pike’s voice cracked a little as he attempted to lighten the tension of the last twelve hours.

“What’s going on? I think I missed a few steps. Are you okay? Are WE okay?” you winced, attempting to shake the burgeoning pulsation between your temples and trying to will your body into cooperation.

“Well, after you collapsed I want to Macy’s and got our Christmas gifts, Santa dropped by. Rudolf is a total diva…”

You tugged at Pike’s hair, pulling his face back to meet his gaze. “Agent Pike, if it weren’t for this splitting headache, you would be the main pain in my ass” you breathed heavily, cooling temperatures nursing you back to consciousness. “Talk to me. Are you okay?” you implored bringing your hand to cup the side of Pike’s face.

Pike stilled silently, tears springing to his eyes as he swallowed hard. “You really scared me” he sniffled, averting his eyes and gesturing to the tree limb punctuating the living room. “This didn’t help…” he shifted with discomfort, attempting to quell the many emotions he was holding at bay. You took a moment to admire his handiwork, as a large blanket had been stuffed through the protrusion, and haphazardly layered with gray duct tape. It was a marked benefit, but without the fire the temperature seemed to be plummeting by the minute.

“How long was I out?” you blinked, doing a quick body check and noticing the pitch black void outside, dotted by peppery clumps of snowfall.

“God, it felt like forever…” Pike laid down next to you, gazing up at the ceiling. “Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes?” He closed his eyes breathing deeply and rubbing his hand over his forehead confusedly. He paused in the overwhelming silence as you took stock of your current circumstances. While you were unconscious Pike had lit several emergency candles that flickered lightheartedly in the otherwise dark cabin. A small amount of wind tickled the flames as your eyes flicked to the nearby wall heater that was chugging and sputtering weakly. You saw several bottles of water and emergency rations piled by the now defunct fire place. Did the winter winds knock out the fire so abruptly? Your mind was still moving at half speed as the headache dulled into the background, but a growing awareness was permeating your discovery. There must have been more to your apparent intoxication and disorientation. The headaches, the nausea, the vertigo…What could have disrupted both of you to such an extent? Your breath caught abruptly in your throat. You clamped your hand over your mouth, looking down at Pike’s resting figure.

“PIKE?” you nearly shouted into his face as his eyes blazed open with surprise.

“Yes?!” Pike sat up suddenly, grasping his chest nervously. “Are you cold? Hungry? What do you need?” he started piling blankets on top of you and breathing heavily.

“Sorry, I just…monoxide poisoning? Right? That’s why the fire is out? Did you pass out too?”

Pike huffed dramatically, nodding his head and grimacing with soreness. “It was touch and go there for a minute” he draped his arm over your legs trying to catch his breath. “I couldn’t figure out what the problem was until Mother Willow snapped me back into reality” he gestured again to the forlorn looking foyer. “I think that actually might have saved our lives. There must be more limbs or branches covering the chimney and neither of us noticed. If that blast of fresh air hadn’t disrupted our evening, I’m not sure either one of us would be here right now.”

You paused with the sober realization that things were worsening. Though the fire wasn’t available the wall heater was limping along, but not for long. If you had learned anything from your outside venture it was that Bessie the Hyundai was about to be joined by…Genny the Generator in the land of defunct machines. It’s a wonder it had lasted THIS long. Pike must be trying to get as much bang for his buck before the situation derailed completely. You swallowed dryly reflecting on your previous isolation. You would most assuredly be dead if not for this man sitting before you. You bit your lip with thanks, poised to articulate your gratitude when Pike interrupted, his face crumpling in defeat.

“This is totally my fault…” he chastised, laying back down and staring up at the ceiling numbly.

“Hey, hey…that doesn’t sound like Agent Pike from the Art Squad” you bantered, your fingertips drifting over his stomach, and resting assuredly on his chest. He took your hand in his as his lower lip wobbled insecurely.

“If I’m not careful I’m gonna get us both killed AND ruin Christmas…I’m not sure which is worse” he jested, avoiding eye contact with you.

“Look at me, Agent Pike” you drew your fingertips lightly over his cheeks, drawing his face towards yours. “Marcus…” you whispered, wiping a single tear that was trickling, unbidden down his scratchy cheek, “You saved us. You saved me…” you leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips which apparently did him in. He covered his eyes with the back of his forearm, shaking slightly and finally starting to decompress.

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for YOU” you began peppering kisses over his face haphazardly and resting your hands on his chest for support. “This (kiss) is (kiss) not (kiss) your (kiss) fault…” you drew back studying his features appraisingly as he pursed his lips tightly in response.

“I’m so sorry” he apologized, turning his body slightly away from you with embarrassment and hugging his arms around his abdomen tightly. You laid down, your chest to his back, drawing a blanket up and over your both and wrapping your arms over his.

“I think, this is a very lovely, if not unconventional winter picnic you’ve planned for us” you rested your forehead against his back, breathing in his deodorant and hints of aftershave. “The candlelight is an especially nice touch…” you teased, hearing small sniffles vibrating through his chest. “It’s very important that we don’t dehydrate so crying is…only permitted for…gingers in pink snowsuits” Pike shifted with awkwardness, chuckling slightly at your feeble attempts. “Besides, I should be the one crying if this knight in shining armor is leaving for Washington D.C”. The room somehow became even more quiet as you wondered if your jest had overstepped. You didn’t want a repeat of last night’s debacle, but if you were going to meet the Grim Reaper, it was time to lay all your cards on the table. You felt Pike’s body collapse inward in defeat as he slowly turned to face you.

“I don’t know what to say” he began, nearly nose to nose with you under the blankets, breathing softly. “At this point an apology feels so inadequate, I just…didn’t think I…I didn’t think it mattered…” he finally ventured, placing his hand lightly to the side of your neck and feeling the feathering pulse underneath. You nodded your head with understanding, attempting to process the unexpected events leading you to this very moment. There was nothing about this Christmas that had been planned. If you knew anything, you knew Pike was a good man, and there wasn’t a deceitful bone in his body. Maybe the situation with his ex had so derailed his optimism and self-confidence that he couldn’t easily see the opportunities stretching out before him; including you.

“What really happened with you and…Lisbon?” you whispered, wanting desperately to understand how anyone could choose a life that didn’t involve Marcus. Pike sighed heavily, thinking back with nostalgia and hurt to the road not traveled.

“Lisbon was…IS…an amazing woman. We met on the job and formed a quick connection when the job in Washington D.C materialized. I knew it was the right professional step for me, but I…my enthusiasm just overreached. I tried to make us into something we weren’t. She was already deeply invested in…someone else, and we just needed time to realize the difference between a fantasy and a reality.” He swallowed hard, moving his thumb to the notch at your sternum, his eyes fixed on yours hesitantly. “I wanted too much, too soon and it all blew up in my face…” he stated matter-a-factly, as a light breeze ghosted over you both.

You shivered slightly whether from cold or emotion, but thankful for Pike’s immediate transparency. Relationships were so complicated, and it often seemed like a person’s greatest strengths somehow could misalign into their greatest weaknesses. “It was too big an ask, for me to deserve” he rationalized, turning his eyes downward and resting his head on the floor in acquiescence.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity. Well, that wasn’t true, you mused, furrowing your brow in consternation. No wonder you hadn’t immediately arrived on the same page, and your own silence had complicated the situation. Not one to make the same mistake twice you decided to meet Pike’s transparency with your own. “I don’t think Love can be measured like that” you started, attempting to proceed sensitively. “It’s unconventional, hard to grab hold of…and impossible to predict. But, I mean…if anyone DESERVES it, it’s you, Pike. You deserve love, actually.”

Pike held his breath with anticipation, considering your meaning thoughtfully. He knew the truth of your words, but how could he believe them for himself? Just because you desperately want something doesn’t bring it to fruition. He WANTED to believe this whole nightmare had a happy ending, but how many times could one heart be broken? He held your gaze intently, willing you to feel the intensity of his desire. Somehow he was going to get you both out of this nightmare and try to find the answer to that question.

“I don’t think anyone would argue that we’ve had more than enough reality this holiday season” you forlornly admitted, gripping his hands tightly in yours, and attempting to warm them. The heater sputtered timidly in the corner, hiccuping quietly, on its last legs. “I never thought my life would become so isolated and alone” you pondered, reflecting back on the last few years. “My life felt vibrant and connected and exciting until the pandemic crashed into me and everyone around me. It was then that I realized that people couldn’t prioritize friendships in a world where family was just fighting to survive. It’s not that they didn’t care…people just couldn’t extend themselves further than distance would allow” you reasoned. “And rather than taking the risk to keep reaching out, I just receded further and further in”.

“And that’s how you found yourself on my lucky doorstep” Pike chided, his eyelids drooping slightly with exhaustion. “In pink” he chuckled, closing his eyes for just a second. So tired. He relished the tension leaving his body as he sunk down into the blankets contentedly. It was ridiculous, given the circumstances, but he hadn’t felt this safe in a while. He really felt seen. Like you understood who he was and what he was about. The trip to Washington D.C was everything he wanted, but how could he just leave, knowing that you remained? Would he even get the chance to enjoy the adventure of life, with you at his side? And what if things continued to spiral out of control? Spiral. Why was the room moving in a circle? He sighed sleepily, being lulled into submission. Spinning, spinning, spinning…

“PIKE!” your voice jarred him out of his temporary reverie, as he shook his head, blinking rapidly. “You still with me?” you were rubbing his face aggressively, inches from his lips, a look of concern dotting your expression.

“I’m here” he mumbled tiredly, sitting up precariously on one elbow and clearing his throat with determination. “Not going anywhere” he yawned, chuckling to himself. “One good thing about being snowed-in is that you can’t escape me that easily” he teased leaning over to grab a sip of water and trying to engage his emergency training. “Gotta stay awake” he sighed, sitting up against the hearth shakily and motioning for you to join him. You gathered up more blankets and propped yourself up next to him, nestling into his side for warmth. “This is the survival component of our celebration, when our holiday heroes reminisce on the true meaning of Christmas”. The heater coughed dramatically as Pike pouted in opposition. “How do you suppose Christmas will be in Washington D.C?’ he wondered, trying to shift his focus to the future, rather than the current dire circumstances. “What if we were there right now, instead of here. What would be doing?” he pondered, trying to coerce you both into a proactive, optimistic mindset.

“Well, no ice skating” you chattered next to him, laying your head down slightly on his shoulder. “I’m a complete klutz, as you know, and would only be cajoled into winter activities if hot chocolate is included” you chuckled as Pike nodded into your head.

“Obviously” he smiled, looking over at the Christmas Tree which somehow cheerily smiled back.

“I went to school on the East Coast, you know?” you offered “Hence the pink snowsuit for this bumbling California girl…” you giggled tentatively, reflecting on the many adventurous seasons of your life. “Made it to Washington D.C a few times; you’re gonna love it there” you encouraged.

“Why?’ Pike stifled a yawn, attempting to focus on the flickering candlelight dancing before him. “What could D.C possibly have that WE don’t at Pike’s Place?” he grinned ruefully, hearing the winds pick up slightly outside the whistling window pane.

“It’s true, Pike’s Place has excellent coffee, pancakes….and the STAFF” you rested your chin atop Pike’s shoulder gazing at his profile. “Sooooooo cute. I’m thinking of giving the manager my number” Pike gripped you tightly around the waist smiling to himself. “But D.C is pretty cool too. The food is amazing, and the history around every corner…”. You stopped to lock eyes with Pike conspiratorially.

“THE SMITHSONIAN!” you both intoned playfully, pulling the blankets around you a bit tighter.

“Oh my gosh we’ll LIVE there” you agreed dreamily. “I mean, YOU’LL live there, Art Squad” your eyes drifted down to the small manilla folder propped happily against the unknowing Christmas Tree. “What did you get me for Christmas?” you elbowed Pike in the side jovially as Marcus laughed to himself clandestinely.

“You’re just gonna have to wait for Christmas morning” Pike protested, shaking his head emphatically.

“If we make it that far” you whispered, gripping Pike more fervently as the wind howled menacingly above you. Pike gulped back his anxiety, determined to provide a stolid demeanor.

“What else would we do in D.C?” he blinked lazily, setting his head atop yours in an attempt to ground himself to the moment.

“Let’s see…We would tour the capital”…

“Check” he agreed.

“Enjoying the cherry blossoms by spring and the farmer’s markets by summer”…

“Check” he concurred.

“I’m partial to Thai Food so you’d need to bring that home at least once a week…”

“But how will I enjoy your…unconventional cooking?” he joked as you scoffed in mock offense.

“Because I’ll be sending you to work with the most indulgent peanut butter and jelly sandwiches anyone has ever tasted” you promised, linking your fingers with his and shivering in the cooling cabin. For one terrifying moment the heater completely stilled, its exhausted fans clicking slowly to a silence as the blizzard batted against the punctured windowpane. Pike held his breath momentarily as the heater shook hesitantly back to life, pumping a few steady breaths of warmth over your tingling bodies.

The cabin was silent as you and Pike held one another tentatively.

“What do you think is the meaning of life?” Pike whispered, closing his eyes and burying himself in the shampooed vanilla fragrances of your hair.

You chuckled in bittersweet acknowledgement, shrugging your shoulders with curiosity. “Is hypothermia starting to set in, Agent Pike?” you halfheartedly questioned, acknowledging the looming possibility in the recesses of your mind.

Marcus beamed, thankful to be battling the given circumstances, whilst still enjoying your acerbic sense of humor. “We’re not quite there yet…” he mused, wriggling his toes determinedly and reflecting on the many art pieces he had admired over the years. “I just…love what I do…I love appreciating beauty and art, and humanity. Sorry I’m getting all existential on you…”.

“Apocalyptic blizzards will do that, you know?” you pulled back slightly, gazing intently into his eyes pointedly. “What do YOU think the meaning of life is?” you felt yourself melting into the moment, fixated on the beautiful features of his face, the candlelight beginning to blur everything around you in a hypnotic haze.

“I don’t know” he stated lowly, licking his lips dryly and admiring the cinnamon freckles dotting the bridge of your nose…and perhaps elsewhere. “None of the artists I work to protect are even alive anymore. But their beauty…” he paused to touch your face delicately, watching your eyelids flutter shut. “…their beauty lives on and on. The things we love. The purpose we give ourselves…Some of it kind of goes on forever and ever, I think. So I guess it’s…love. The meaning of life is love, actually”…

And then you were kissing. You couldn’t immediately place when you had begun, but much like Pike’s existential pondering, it seemed to have an element of infinity to it. No beginning and no end. Just breath after breath of one another, in a cyclical loop of forever. A comforting, nurturing, beautiful rose of infinitude. Maybe even, of love.

You enjoyed one another for quite some time, unaware of the heater flickering in and out of existence, as you found other means to warm yourselves by the now extinguished fireplace. Finally pausing to catch your breath, Pike pulled you into his arms, lowering you both to the floor, cushioned by the pillows and blankets surrounding you. “This is a Christmas I will never forget” Pike reflected, somewhere between a laugh and a whimper, watching your head rise and fall atop his chest with his breath.

“It’s definitely one for the books” you grinned, wrapping your fingers around his firmly, a new batch of tears threatening to spill forward. “Since we are setting up our last will and testaments, I just want you to know how much the last week has meant to me, Marcus”.

Pike hummed contentedly, his hold on you relaxing ever so slightly.

“I was determined to keep a cold exterior, but even a blizzard couldn’t keep my heart frozen forever. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness and warmth through this whole adventure, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you…for everything” you admitted.

“That’s the magic of Pike’s Place” he slurred, breathing steadily as his head lolled against yours.

“When we get out of this nightmare, you should really think about starting a Bed and Breakfast. Your pancakes are to DIE for, though something about your fireplace leaves something to be desired…” you paused, anticipating Pike’s retort, but nothing arrived.

“Pike?”

You gazed down at Pike’s hand which felt heavy in yours. Shifting your body quickly you looked up at Marcus’ face which had gone slack, his mouth slightly ajar, but chest still moving steadily.

“PIKE?!!” you yelled into the abyss, but his arms dropped loosely from your grasp to the floor with a dull thud. You snapped to attention, gaping around the room wildly for inspiration. “Don’t do this to me, Agent! Don’t leave me alone on Christmas Eve!” you yelled, willing a miracle to occur. You straddled his waist awkwardly, pounding on his chest animalistically as the tears began to flow freely. “Don’t you dare!” you cried through gritted teeth, rubbing your hands aggressively over his arms and neck helplessly, unsure of what to do next. The heater seemed to give one final exhausted cough of existence before grinding to a halt as Pike’s breaths similarly shallowed. “I just found you! I just found you!” you whimpered, gripping him tightly between your thighs and hugging your body to him with desperation. You grabbed the nearby water bottle slopping a few tentative drops across his face as he stirred once again. More. You needed more. Flinging yourself towards the door you crawled army style over the blankets and around the flickering candlelight for the last desperate option you could think of. Hauling yourself to your feet you flung the door open to in an icy barrage of wind and snow, which all but blew out the remaining candles. Nearly tripping over the doorstep you gathered a handful of ice and stumbled back into the freezing cabin hovering just a moment over Pike’s unconscious frame with indecision. More. You needed more. Adrenaline.

Wincing slightly in anticipatory empathy you smashed the powdery ice alongside Marcus’ now pallid countenance, sliding your fingers down the sides of his neck and shoulders, plunging him into a snowy alarm. Pike’s eyes flew open in surprised distress, grabbing at your hands solidly and sitting up abruptly. Biting back a cry of shock, he breathed in the cold night air which whipped cinematically through your hair, stinging your cheeks, but bringing Pike back to life and back to reality. “I’m awake! I’m awake!” he mumbled, blearily grasping at your tear stained face and looking around the darkened room haphazardly. The temperature immediately plummeted as the heater shrank into stolid stone and a vacuum of cold drenched the cabin in clarifying oxygen and steely darkness. You may have averted the immediate disaster, but had just literally opened the door on the next impending crisis. “How long was I out?” Pike shouted over the howling winds as you sat atop him crying and shivering.

“M-maybe a minute? T-two m-minutes?” you shouted back as your teeth chattered together violently.

“God, it’s a breath of fresh air!” he grinned, but immediately sobering to the new circumstances. “I’ve gotta keep you warm! If the carbon monoxide didn’t kill us, the cold will!” he observed, lifting you up by your elbows and holding you tightly. “At least nothing else can go wrong at this point!” he exclaimed, until it did.

A deafening boom shattered the relative stillness and a flash of light exploded into the atmosphere, rattling the nearby windows and sending a fresh cascade of wind and snow into the icy cabin. Whether from shock or impact your body splayed over Marcus’ figure as the vibrational blast flattened you against him suddenly. Shaking with cold and anxiety, you held one another for a time, until Marcus pulled back to look into your surprised face. “You okay, Pink?” he apparently shouted, though it seemed to be slightly muffled in the chaos.

“I think so!” you retorted, feeling equally dulled. Rolling to the side you did a quick body scan of one another as Pike pulled you to your feet shakily, heading towards the open doorway. Squinting into the snow flurry the woodshed burned brightly, silhouetted against the night sky. You flashed on the theatrical snapshot of “Gone With the Wind” as Pike draped his arm around your waist, magnetically pulled towards the residual heat.

“Well, there goes the generator” Pike’s now alert expression flickered ominously against the backdrop of billowing smoke and flickering flames. “I’d be thankful for the warmth if it didn’t promise to extinguish so quickly” he surmised, already bracing against the frigid winds.

You both stood in the doorway, thankful to be with one another, but desperate to be anywhere else, as it seemed Christmas, and your very survival was immediately going up in flames. “What do we do now?” you questioned, looking into Pike’s determined face and hoping upon hopes he would manage to offer yet another solution.

“I don’t know” he acquiesced. “We’re just gonna have to find some other way of keeping warm”.

*thanks @unknown-till for the cool dividers!

Dostoyevsky + the Slutty Knee

A big thank you to @auteurdelabre for our beautiful coloring book! I really feel like I'm making progress with my health journey, but it's super slow going. The main thing that is keeping me creatively motivated is my art projects! I'm working on the final fiction for our "Crime and Punishment" series at Pedge's Bookshop, just in time for "The Last of Us Season 2". Don't forget to check out Joel's Jives if you would like the full participatory experience.

I think our next foray is going to be a one shot with Pena and J revolving around Pedro's recommendation, "What Happened to Belen?". And don't forget to check out our first fic for Pedge's Cinema "The Trailer" when Javi and J first meet. Grab your popcorn first however, the opening scene of "All About Eve" is soon to be started.

“Taking a new step, uttering a new word, is what people fear most.” “–and suddenly, in the midst of my laughing, I’d give way to sadness, fall into ludicrous despondency and once again start the whole process all over again

“You never reach any truth without making mistakes. Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. And what are we doing now? In science, development, thought, invention, ideals, aims, liberalism, judgment, experience and everything, everything, everything, we are still in the preparatory class at school. We prefer to live on other people's ideas, it's what we are used to! Am I right?” “Break what must be broken, once for all, that's all, and take the suffering on oneself.” “Fling yourself straight into life, without deliberation; don’t be afraid - the flood will bear you to the bank and set you safe on your feet again.” “What do you think, would not one tiny crime be wiped out by thousands of good deeds?”

@littlemisspascal @wannabe-urs

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @anelva

@wordywarriorwrites @burntheedges @inept-the-magnificent @timelordfreya 

@schnarfer @devineconjuring @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog 

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse @guiltyasdave 

@copperhalfcent @bluesweaters15 @drewharrisonwriter @darkheartgatita

@harriedandharassed @brittmb115 @confusedpuffin @zaniasky @quicax3

Moody Rainy Day

Good Lord, did you see the new TLOU trailer? Pedge and I are already wrecked. This has been one of the most personally difficult weeks of my life, but one artistic outlet sustaining me is the Tumblr community! I had an awesome time creating this mood board for the beauty @beefrobeefcal, and they encouraged me to share with everyone! It's going to be 106° tomorrow, but I've definitely got Fall on the brain. Anyone who wants to use as inspiration please feel free and tag away! As per last week's poll results, I'm going to continue Monday Mood Boards starting with Pedro characters like Javier Pena...Pedge approves.

Pedro Scouts Beat the Heat

Pedge and I have been having an amazing time with @pedroscouts Summer Fun, though steadily getting hotter. Excited to hear our upcoming Sunday badges, Pedge and I are several steps from the next ranking! But we are ready to rough it. Happy Summer Fun my fellow Scouts. Let's keep it hawt!

Ice Cream Social Sweet Treats Posted a Poll Pedro Party Bookshop AU Snooze @tightjeansjavi A Lover's Pinch @hier--soir Miller's Book Nook @whocaresstillthelouvre Whump Ouch! @joellastofus Take a Moment to Breathe @tightjeansjavi Too Young to Die @starry-eyes-love Javi Gutierrez Are You Alright, Honey? @javigutierrez Poolside @joelscruff Slow @morallyinept Marcus Pike Charcuterie Challenge Lost In Our Vices @thetriumphantpanda I'll Crawl Home to Her Second Chances @pedroscurls Angst Limits @randofantfic Teacher's Pet @javiscigarette Cinnabon @strang3lov3 Midnight Kisses @bluebeary-jay Platonic Love Nobody Else But You @writersblog20 Accidentally Discoursed The One With Pedge and Jett Be Good to Yourself and Be Good to Others @morallyinept Found Family Mr. and Mrs. Miller @mrsmando You Make Loving Fun @javierpena-inatacvest

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I did it! 60 badges and glamping has never been better! A big thank you to Pedro Scouts for organizing such fun activities, we can't wait till next year! Pedge is trying to roast smores in the living room over a toaster oven, so I've gotta go! We have achieved the Rank of Full Intercourse :) Pedge is reminding me there are many healthy definitions of sexy fulfillment, but it's hard to argue with the Big "O"...Thank you @pedroscouts, we are very satiated.

Pedro Scouts: Glamping Pedro Scouts Beat the Heat Ice Cream Social Pedro Scouts: Let's Get It Up Pedge's Bonfire Happy Ending

Boxed or Unboxed?

What Happened to Belen? Part One

Grab a Latte! thanks @timelordfreya for this fun game to "Read Your Color". Enjoy a treat before heading into the Bookshop...

Triggers: profanity, pornography, smoking, attempts at Spanish, contemporary canon for "Narcos" character, Catholicism, discussions of the book "What Happened to Belen" which involve topics of abortion, miscarriage, homicide, women's rights, medical malpractice, judicial injustice, menstruation, harassment etc...

Series Masterlist

Words: 5k

This workday was taking forever.

You looked up at the clock for the umpteenth time on this lazy Wednesday. After several hours, the second hand had moved…5 minutes forward. You rolled your eyes with irritation. It didn’t help that you were on your period. You shifted behind the counter awkwardly, the summer heat already starting to drag across your perspiring skin. If it was already this hot at 11am, you could only imagine what the rest of today would hold. At least you had a good book to keep you company. Taking another perfunctory glance around the bookstore, you floated somewhere between annoyance and gratitude, thankful that more customers weren’t gracing your local Barnes and Nobles. You couldn’t complain. The pay was decent, and you had wanted to be close to your first love; books. Here you were, getting paid to read, drink coffee and mind the bookstore, even on this deplorably hot Wednesday….

The front bell rang abruptly as a customer entered the bookshop, just out of your peripheral sight. Shit. You chastised yourself for your bristling attitude. Were you here to work or not? You smiled with self-deprecation, setting down the book of the hour “What Happened to Belen”, by Ana Elea Correa. You were just PMSing, and already anxious to get back to your re-read of the thought provoking piece about the Women’s Rights Movement. Tucking the book behind the counter, you tightened the strings on your Barnes and Nobles apron and sauntered towards the front with curiosity. 

The newfound customer had already disappeared in the annals of the bookshop, so you took a precursory lap around the store, looking for dust mites and books out of place when you spotted the bright pink, silky top stretched across the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. He had his back to you, a pert ass nearly screaming to be pinched, a thin line of perspiration dotting through the flimsy fabric in a straight line down his spine. Hello hormones. Sometimes you really hated being a girl. You noticed the wallet sized protrusion in his back pocket, wondering if his front seam demonstrated a similar bulge. Not wanting to add the description of “lasciviously horny” to your resume, you cleared your throat tentatively to indicate your presence. The statuesque stranger remained undeterred, much like his jeans which were fitted tightly to his tall and lanky stature. Jerk. You neared his stoic posture, raising your eyebrows in judgement at the Playboy Magazine that was held delicately between his fingers. Good hands. Jesus. Get a grip, woman. You noticed a small twitch in his Burt Lancaster like mustache, as he shifted his weight with irritation.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” the sarcasm seemed to drip off of your tongue unintentionally, as you caught a wry smile flash across his countenance before returning to an icy cold demeanor.  The stranger grunted in acknowledgment, without removing his fixed stare from the centerfold, his tongue darting out surreptitiously, tinged with lust.

“We have a new section that favors Pulitzer Prize winners” your tone had all the syrup of a honeyed practice, but you were inwardly shocked at your bravado. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know this guy from Adam, and here you were alone in a bookstore, baiting a complete stranger? The already stolid man seemed to momentarily freeze before casting a sideways glance in your direction as his pupils widened and re-focused. He turned his body towards yours, almost defiantly.

“What do you think, hermosa?” he seemed to taunt, turning the pages of the Playboy towards you as a buxom blonde nearly slapped you across the face with her breasts. “Do you think she reads Nobel Laureates?”. Your face reddened with embarrassment, though stubbornly refusing to back down. 

“Maybe…” you whispered, his face softening ever so slightly in response. The shift was incremental, but noted nonetheless. “You can’t always judge a book by its cover”, the words fell out of your mouth sloppily, but with sincerity nonetheless. He stood up slightly taller, considering your words and looking at the magazine centerfold once again. “Too true, hermosa, too true” he seemed to acquiesce. closing the magazine definitively and looking at you with a new appraisal. “What are YOU reading?” he pointedly asked, allowing his eyes to meander over the totality of your body, as though still looking at the magazine contents. You shifted with an annoying arousal that you couldn’t quite shake, noticing the buttons of his shirt dangling precariously open revealing a sun-kissed, tanned torso. Stupid PMS.

“Uh…” your brain stalled like a sputtering car as he smiled sweetly at your unravelling manner.

“Pena” he held his hand out, wiping it deftly across the backside of his jeans and extending it forwards into your halting grasp. “Javier Pena” he matter-a-factly stated, his Adam’s apple bobbing strongly in his throat as a small trickle of sweat cascaded down his sternum. Holy hell. It must be hotter in here than you realized.

“Oh you wouldn’t like me” your eyes widened with horror as he ticked his head to the side curiously. “The BOOK, you wouldn’t like the book…” you rallied, stepping back and nearly falling over, but for his steely grasp that was not releasing.

“Easy now” he teased, reaching into his back pocket and soon displaying a shiny metallic badge with the large letters of DEA printed across the front. “Your secret is safe with me” he lowly intoned, dangerously winking in your direction as you felt a new bout of crimson feather across your face. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your…reading…uh, officer?” you blurted out, apparently unable to string two sentences together with a flashlight as he kept shaking your hand slowly and maintaining eye contact.

“S’okay” he offered, gently releasing your hand and placing his on his hips mischievously. Who was this guy? “M’not on patrol or anything, just looking for a good read and a quick lunch. What’dya recommend, hermosa?” his tongue dragged across his lips seductively as he looked you up and down once again. 

Were you hallucinating? Geez, hormones were a drag. “Uhhhh…” your mind seemed to short circuit once again, as though on auto-pilot. “What Happened to Belen?” your voice floated out of your body and hovered above you both tentatively.

“I don’t know, what DID happen to Belen?” he quirked, one eyebrow skyrocketing upwards. “Is this a joke I should know?” he scoffed, straightening the magazine on the rack as you nearly scurried back to the front counter.

“Oh it’s just a book I’m reading about Women’s Rights!” you called over your shoulder, desperate to regain some composure, and hastening back to your isolated perch by the cash register. Safe. His intimidating stature came tentatively lumbering around the corner, as though placating a frightened animal. “I like women” he smiled drolly, nodding at the book in your hands as you looked around the shop haphazardly. I mean, he seemed to be an officer of the law. Other than your own adolescent insecurities, what were you so jittery about?

“I recognize the name from the news, but I don’t know much about this woman, Belen. What was she, some sort of freedom fighter?” he questioned, leaning broadly against the counter and sinking his weight against it. You somehow felt protected and caged in, whilst not entirely disgruntled about it.

“Maybe an accidental one?” you observed, leafing through your copy thoughtfully. “She found herself at the epicenter of the Argentinian discussion of abortion rights, after she was unjustly jailed following a miscarriage. Huh. Miscarriage of justice indeed” you muttered under your breath, watching Pena’s eyebrows furrow in consternation.

“Bullshit” he muttered, his eyes squinting into skeptical lines of incredulity.

Your breath hitched in your throat hesitantly. It sounded nearly implausible on the surface, as you back-pedaled quickly, “Well, like I said, it’s probably not for everyone, and we have some other books along the same themes. There’s ‘A Room of One’s Own’ by Virginia Woolf. Or even ‘Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls’” you started to slide the book behind the counter before Pena’s heavy hand layered on top of yours cautiously, locking eyes with you fixedly.

“More” he stated bluntly, holding your gaze determinedly with his. “Tell me more”.

You swallowed dryly re-opening the book hesitantly. “Well, it’s not surprising that you haven’t heard as much about her. She prefers to remain relatively anonymous, and most people don’t even know what she looks like. But the international ramifications of her story go far beyond Argentina. It triggered international discussions about poverty, women’s rights, abortion, misogyny and much more…” your voice trailed off insecurely, hoping that the DEA agent wasn’t harboring a chip on his shoulder. “There’s a documentary, too” you finished, humiliated at how small your voice had become. Geez, even feminism at the local Barnes and Nobles wasn’t easy. Pena seemed to sense your hesitancy, drawing back from the counter tentatively and looking off into the distance.

“The system is fucked up” he mumbled, kicking the base of the wooden counter and planting his hands once again on his hips defiantly. “Don’t have to tell me, hermosa. I battle the powers that be every damn day of my life. Money, drugs, death. It’s all a fucking nightmare” his words hung in the air heavily, like the humidity that threatened to oppress everything around it. He nodded curtly, drawing a nearby stool up to the counter and planting himself in front of it like a hungry schoolboy. “So, what actually happened to her?”. A momentary image of an interrogation room flitted across your mind, as you wondered how it would be to have this man opposite you in more threatening circumstances. But his demeanor seemed genuine, and you were starting to gain a little confidence in your presentation.

“Okay, well first she has a bout of peritonitis that requires surgery and causes physical complications leading to a dangerous episode of cramping and fatigue. So she goes to the nearby hospital for help, taking her mom with her for support.” You referenced the book in your hands,

“As in many other parts of the world, there are two kinds of hospitals. The clean ones with plenty of doctors and nurses to attend to patients, a clear view through the windows, labs, X-ray machines, ultrasound devices, gauze and emotional support. And then there are the other hospitals where people like Belen go. Two police officers handle her admission’”.

“That seems sketchy as fuck. Why are there police officers at a hospital?” Pena inquires, his stance still wide and foreboding, his arms stretching easily across the counter with control.

“That isn’t even the worst of it” you shake your head uncomprehendingly. “Here, let me read it to you….

‘When Belen finally comes to from the anesthesia she is surrounded by police officers. One of the men in uniform looks at her vagina. They ask where the fetus is. She is still adjusting to the news that she’d been pregnant and not known it, as well as to the news that she had miscarried, so she says nothing. Then a male nurse walks up to her with a small cardboard box. inside is something small and black. He shows it to her and says; “This is your son. Look what you did, bitch.” Belen cries and shouts that she didn’t do anything, so she doesn’t know what they’re talking about. They give her water to calm her down. It is day now and she is kept in the hospital under police custody. When she looks at the officer, she wishes she were dead’”.

Pena’s mouth falls open in disbelief, “The fuck…” he whispers, his eyes growing into a steely sheet of iron, grabbing the book out of your hands abruptly. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t want to find this man behind the barrel of a gun. You pursed your lips thoughtfully as he rifled through the book, almost searching for redemptive clarity. Maybe you had judged him too harshly as per his proclivities. It seemed like he actually cared. You delicately retrieved the book from his open grasp. “Well, she’s safe now, right? They acquitted her, or issued a formal apology or something?” he asked, tightening his hands into two balls of fury pressed firmly against the wooden counter.

“I’m afraid it wasn’t quite that simple” you lamented. “They take her to prison for an interim period that lasts nearly three years” Pena’s lips tightened to a taut line of reproach. “And she has a string of deplorable lawyers before finally meeting Soledad” you brightened slightly with the first piece of good news in the narrative.

“Wait a damn minute, how can the court imprison someone for having a miscarriage? What about an abortion? I mean, THAT’S still legal, right?” his voice was tinged with incredulity, as you remained grateful that you were the only ones in attendance for your unexpected Ted Talk. This was going to be hard to explain, because it made little to no sense.

“Argentinian abortion laws only came into fruition four years ago, and the discussion of Belen’s story was a HUGE part of that. Prior to that time, most abortions were considered illegal. Even her lawyer Soledad talks about her personal experience, ‘I had an illegal abortion. The whole thing took me by surprise. This can happen to any woman. I went to the kind of place where no one on earth would feel safe. You can imagine what it was like. Suddenly, I was experiencing illegality and its many consequences. The moment when you feel you’ve lost your autonomy, then  all your rights, all of them, are suspended. I’ve never talked about it, you know? But my kids are all grown up now. That experience was a huge motivator. Why are women put through that? If it was awful for me, then what must it be like for women who don’t have the resources? Something inside me woke up. I might never get any rest, but I would do something for women’s rights. No one deserves to be treated that way’”.

You set the book down as Pena closed his eyes, attempting to quiet his breathing. He reached a hand behind his head drawing it across the back of his neck tensely and eventually dragging it down the front of his face. “Ay, Dios mio…I thought it was bad in Columbia”.

You paused quietly before offering, “It’s actually worse in Columbia”. Pena seemed to stop breathing momentarily as you continued. “I think Columbia only ratified their rulings in 2022, but don’t quote me on that”. The color drained from Pena’s face with embarrassment. He cleared his throat haltingly.

“LosientoDiostengapiedad” the words flew across his tongue fluidly as he rolled his eyes with chagrin. “I don’t….” he cleared his throat again for good measure, “I don’t generally associate with women who are in a…family way. Or want to be” his face contorted self-deprecatingly. “Maybe I just…didn’t ask….” his face gained a dull, graying quality. He looked like he was going to be sick.

You smirked knowingly. Okay, Playboy. Maybe you COULD teach this hot pendejo a thing or two. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigarette packet before offering you one.

“Oh, I’m sorry you can’t smoke in here…” you apologized, watching his eyes widen to saucer like imploring orbs of incredulity. Licking his lips dryly and eventually tucking the cigarette deftly behind his ear he gestured. “Dame mas…” he rasped, lowering his eyes to the ground and swallowing thickly.

“I know, it’s hard to believe such a thing actually occurred, but let me try to synopsize….

When Belen arrived at the hospital she was already mid-miscarriage. She went to the bathroom, and amidst pain meds and confusion, unbeknownst to her, expelled the fetus. Belen wakes up in the communal labor room surrounded by police and with forensic pathologists examining her vagina, and learns she was 15 weeks pregnant. She had two lawyers neither of which visited her, and was eventually held in reprimand for first degree murder. No one raised the issue of doctor-patient confidentiality. Her new lawyer does not have access to her legal docket before asking for a mistrial amidst Belen’s protestations to remain anonymous”.

“But people should know!” Pena nearly yelled full voice, gripping his knees placatingly and looking into your eyes. “I didn’t join law force to fuck around!” his cheeks reddened immediately under your scrutinizing gaze. “Well….not JUST to fuck around…” he whimpered, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Listening to her experience, it’s easy to see why she was reticent about sharing her personal story. It was nearly three years before she finally received the acknowledgement she deserved, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. She spoke with multiple people proclaiming her innocence. Look, the author recounts,

‘The following day she tries her best to get some sleep. She asks for a sleeping pill and prays it’s all a nightmare. When she wakes up, a priest is staring at her with a frighteningly serious expression and a Bible in his hand. What you’ve done is incredibly serious. God’s law cannot be broken. You murdered your son. God will punish you. You must repent” she recalls him saying. Belen tells him she didn’t do it, she’s innocent. For days, weeks, months, she will say the same thing. The priest is asked to vacate the room; the patient is under medical orders to rest. It’s a lie. The hospital no longer cares what happens to Belen. They just want her to leave as soon as possible. The priest continues his rounds”.

“Bastardo” Pena mutters before reacting to your intake of air. “Sorry” his hands drifted upwards as though cornered by his own law enforcement officers. “Would you believe—lapsing Catholic?” his impish smile disarmed you must faster than you anticipated, as you chuckled under your breath. Shifting your footing you winced slightly as a pang of cramps ricocheted through your body, nearly doubling over. “Are you okay, hermosa?” Pena stood to his feet, touching your elbow slightly with concern. Your skin crackled under his heated touch, as you locked eyes.

“Oh…yeah…I just…been on my feet, all day, probably have a headache or something” you deflected, though you thought you caught a knowing purse of his lips in acknowledgement. You must be imagining things again. Pena checked his watch. 

“It’s nearly noon, I’ve been commandeering all your time” he lamented, looking around the bookstore appraisingly. “Can you…take your lunch?” he shrugged mischievously, gesturing to the small counter behind him that doubled as a refreshment bar. You sighed with relief, recognizing the prudence of his observations. God you could use a break. Your mouth curled with chagrin as you began to remove your apron. “Wait right here” you instructed, rolling your eyes with faux indignation. Can’t argue with the long arm of the law, you internally jested, flipping the “OPEN” sign in the doorway and motioning him to the counter. You grabbed two pre-packaged sandwiches as Pena reached over the counter for two bottles of Jarritos before tossing a ten before him.

“Keep the change” he smirked, pulling out a chair for you and joining for your impromptu picnic. You placed the book on the table and began to unwrap the sandwiches, rolling your eyes.

“My hero” you winked, as his face began to beam with unadulterated pride. “Alright Pena, fess up. How much did you know about Belen before meeting me today?” you questioned, taking a quick bite of your sandwich and humming in approval.

“Guilty as charged” Pena agreed, now twiddling the cigarette between his fingers, as though toying with his actual hunger. “I saw her name in the papers and always wondered. I mean, it was obvious there was a story that needed to be told. But what province was she sentenced in? What happened to her supporters? How did she go from a murder conviction to a final acquittal? Where is Belen?” the questions rattled off of Pena’s tongue as he watched you closely. You had definitely ensnared his attention.

“Are you interrogating me, Officer Pena?” you smiled between bites, happy to see his veneer crumple with tinged embarrassment. “I think it’s important to note that this isn’t just Belen’s story. You should check out the documentary. It shows a part of the story a lot of people are in denial about; the fact that illegal abortions primarily affect women who are poor. In the movie, Belen is in shadow and her face isn’t viable per her request. All we get is her voice, which takes the form of a desperate cry. Most of the women interviewed in the documentary which delves into the underworld of clandestine abortions, appear again at the end of the film when they say with a smile; let it be law. But Belen doesn’t. her silhouette in the dark, her voice, her pain, and her story are all she agreed to share. And it’s plenty. But the bright side of her is missing. She’s more than her experiences, more than that cry”.

Pena nodded solemnly, finally taking a bite of his sandwich and sighing heavily. It was a lot to take in and easy to feel a fraction of the helplessness Belen must have experienced during her incarcerated time. You opened the book and proceeded,

“It’s Belen’s first day at the Special Investigations Unit, and she would rather not talk to anyone. But another detainee approaches her and asks what she’s in for. Belen says she’s been charged with inducing an abortion. The woman bursts out laughing and says that can’t be right. “If it was, then I’d be facing life, I’ve had three” she reassures her. Belen wants to explain that she didn’t induce anything, but the woman insists that even if that were the case, no one gets sent to prison for an abortion. It’s odd, but after a while Belen starts to feel safer in prison than she did at the Special Investigations Unit. Then again, there’s the shame. She doesn’t want anyone asking her why she is there. She has no interest in talking about happened. All she wants is to go home and wake up from this nightmare”.

“I don’t blame her” Pena muttered, wiping his mouth broadly and taking a quick drink. “Law enforcement is supposed to prevent situations like this, not make them worse” he sneered. “I’m surprised they didn’t release her…”.

“Oh, they tried”.

Pena nearly spit out his next sip of soda, sputtering slightly in surprise. “What do you mean?”  he coughed, grabbing a nearby napkin.

“Apparently it was clear to most of the correctional facility that Belen was being treated unjustly. One day, the guards endeavored to just…let her accidentally escape. Here, I highlighted this part,

‘Belen is on the sidewalk outside the correctional facility. She is un-handcuffed and unsupervised. The prison guards watch her from inside the prison and wonder if they will ever see her again. They can always make something up. They’re not worried. But Belen leaves the trash bags on the corner and walks back. She asks the guard to open the gate, then asks to be let back into the prison. The guards laugh, "You weren’t up to it. You looked like a cat that can’t be bothered to go outside” “I’ll go out when they prove my innocence. You’ll see.” Belen replies. She goes back to her book—How long can people live without air? How long? What is the measure of suffocation? And falls asleep”.

“No shit” Pena whispered, nodding in solidarity. “Speaks to her innocence” he curtly states, downing the rest of his soda in one gulp.

You nodded in agreement. “She and her lawyer, Soledad, never lost faith, but it wasn’t always easy.  Corea recounts Belen’s words,

‘No matter what happened to me, I never lost strength. I kept telling myself; I will not fall, I will keep going, because what they’re doing to me is unjust. Except for one time. There was a single time in my life when I thought I’d never recover, that I was falling and wouldn’t be able to get back on my feet. It was when I left the courthouse and my mom stayed behind. I didn’t think I’d get through it. It was hard, but here I am”.

“But where is here?” Pena opened his palms reflexively. “How did she escape? How did she prove her innocence? There must have been clues…” he propositioned, leaning forward in his chair, crumbs scattering the table before him. 

“Oh get this!” you exclaimed, rifling through the book as quickly as possible. “A social media post that Soledad noticed, ‘She felt a mix of relief and anger when she saw the last thing Belen had posted, five days before her hospital visit; a picture of her looking happy; with no belly. No one had bothered to notice that small detail before convicting her”.

“Jesus” Pena had started answering with one word responses, such was the force of his disbelief.

You continued,

“The way most of the media addresses this problem has to change. Too often, victims are blamed for their fates; they clothes, their friends, how they have fun. Deep down, the press fans the idea that “They brought it on themselves” . We need a news media that is committed to creating new protocols while adhering existing protocols and codes of ethics when covering cases like these. Television reproduces words and images that put women in situations of danger, inequality and dominance. It reproduces stereotypes. When women and girls who fall victim to violence are covered by the media, their private lives are trespassed”.

“The media is total shit” he spat. “Can’t trust ‘em for a goddam thing, unless it’s ratting out a source”.

“Tell me what you really think, Pena” you quipped, finishing your own soda and leaning back in your chair before gripping your abdomen tightly. Squinting your eyes shut, Javier reached across the table grabbing your hand tightly.

“I think that’s a little more than a headache” he softly intoned, squeezing your hand and beginning to clean up. “Why don’t you finish your lunch break and I’ll grab a smoke. I don’t want to leave Belen hanging for too long…” he begrudged, heading for the door and turning the door sign right side up. What an interesting customer, you reckoned, scouring your purse for that long awaited Advil and heading to the backroom. You decided to put together a display featuring some of the other books mentioned like “Jacque a Le Reina”, “Open the Door” by Ana Guillot, and “Bad Mothers, Abortion and Infanticide” by Julieta Di Corleto”. Belen may have achieved her freedom at a high cost, but there were still many women suffering under the injustices of an obsolete governmental system. You exhaled a steady sigh of exhaustion, heaving a new stack of books to the foyer and catching sight of your new, fast friend. His broad posture was pacing back and forth concernedly, a myriad of smoke mystically curling about him. As though hearing your unspoken thoughts, he turned abruptly to catch your stare, dropping the cigarette and stamping it into submission, flinging the door open decisively.

“Hot as hell out there, hermosa” he huffed, coughing slightly and rushing to help you with the stack of books. “So perhaps you can now tell me, what DID happen to Belen?”…

Part Two...

Pedro-Tober #4

Inspired by @alyssamariag and @norththelemon I've decided to feature curated pics/art, juxtaposed with fics and AI inspired Bitmoji. So much artistry to celebrate this October, look at these amazing artists! Also, it's the last week to "Trick or Treat"! Hit me up!

20.) Frankie Morales IG: VanessaDraws, "Moody Frankie" @pedges-world

21.) Curls @norththelemon

22.) Gladiator @southparkpedro

23.) Din Jarin IG: Tealspy

24.) Sundance IG: Vanessa Draws

25.) Javier Pena IG: Junes.Pegasus, Afterglow Series @pedges-world

Series Masterlist