#all of this happened in 6 hours and then my period started

[girlscience]

trying to get to better as a person is so nauseating. was lonely yesterday so i messaged friends to try and plan hang outs. forced myself to ask about reference letters today even though i turned bright red and felt like crying. messaged friends tonight to ask if they could help keep me accountable so i don't feel like i'm doing everything alone. barf. i hate this. i want to hide in a hole

[hoshigray]

My Professor's Final Spring Praise ༄ K. Nanami

"Before my summer break officially started, I had to finish my last in-person exam with Professor Nanami. It was so tough, but I made it through! I was the last to leave, so I thanked the professor and shared some final words before heading to my dorm to finish packing up. However, how do a few gratitude and praise exchanges end up with me on his desk and him between my legs?"

A/n: Yessirrrrrr!! First work of my very first series!! I'm very nervous about this as this is the first time committing to writing consecutively for a specific theme, but I got faith in myself!! Also, it's Nanami and my birthday!!!ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ So as soon as this is posted, I'm signing off and enjoying my day with my hubby Kento~ (sike I'm not, just gonna hang with friends, lol). But anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this piece, and thank you so very much for 1k followers~~~!!! Not my best work, but it's a decent start for the series! >:D (will proofread l8r tmrw)

Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.

Cw: professor! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content so minors DNI - taboo (consensual sex b/w a professor & undergrad) - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Nanami approaching early 30s) - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - semi-missionary position (reader lies on their back on a table while Nanami stands) - public sex/sex in a university classroom - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - pining if you squint - praise - pet names (baby, darling, love, sweet pea) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - kissing/makeout sessions.

Wc: 3.4k

Dear Diary...it's been a long while since I had to come to you as an outlet for my thoughts. But something happened today that caused my mind to go rampant, and I need to rely on you again...

Today is supposed to be the best day of the year. You just finished taking your last in-person exam, you were able to finish packing up all your stuff, and you're now ready to kiss this campus goodbye until the upcoming fall season.

You could not wait to start your summer plans. Not only will you work in the internship you've been hoping to get into since last semester, but you'll finally have ample time to hang with your best friends ever — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara!

The summer break has been the end goal for the four of you, and now that your finals are finally over, there's no stopping you from enjoying the season to the best you can!

However, as much as you say you're excited, it doesn't correlate to your actual feelings at this point in time. Something happened that altered your entire perception of what the future was supposed to be.

Something so out of the ordinary that you don't know how to properly feel or think about the situation.

Something so out of the ordinary that you turn to a diary to let your thoughts out, alone in your shared dorm room when all the other roommates have left earlier in the week.

Something so completely out of the ordinary that it sends chills down your spine just reminiscing the moment before sitting at this exact desk writing about what transpired earlier.

It all started when I went to my last in-person exam with Yuuji, where everyone else was waiting for the professor...

You and Yuuji had the same Biology class to take care of one of your science credits, and the exam was to take place on the last day of finals week. Although you've been told it's not supposed to be a difficult test — it's a bunch of multiple questions, short answers, and one essay — the exam period starts from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Three hours of endless testing was enough to put you, Yuuji, and all the other classmates in shambles, embracing guaranteed failures and having no idea how to study.

Luckily, a true saint descended from above to bless you and your peers with a professor who knows what he's doing and is patient enough to lead you to the right path. Your professor, Kento Nanami, was relatively young enough to connect with his fellow students but held a well-mannered and stern cadence that gained the respect and admiration of those around him. He was able to steer you guys into a secure approach to your studying: taking in questions, making study guides for quizzes and midterms, and highlighting significant areas from the textbook throughout the semester that will be shown on today's exam.

So through all the diligent preparation and practical labs you've attended, you feel way more confident with the material than at the start of the semester. Can't say the same for Yuuji, who's more nervous than you (with his three unexcused absences and constantly coming to you for help). But as long as y'all are suffering together, that's all that matters.

The only problem is that the exam is sectioned into three parts — sixty multiple-choice questions that are one point each, ten short answer questions that are also one point each, one mix-and-match portion, and the essay is ten whole points by itself (twenty if you can answer five bonus questions afterward). So, off the bat, everyone understands why three hours are given to complete the exam. But Professor Nanami said, "You all should be fine because it doesn't necessarily have to take you all three hours to complete. So if you finish early, you can get outta here." Say less.

So once you entered the usual classroom with Yuuji, you followed through and sat distant from each other at the same table. The professor came on time as always, instructing the class on where to get the exam on the class website, giving the password to unlock it, and wishing you luck.

The only sounds in the space were people clicking their keyboards, sighs, and groans, and people packing up to leave after submitting their exams before thanking their professor for a great semester. Soon the number of students would thin out, leaving just you and Yuuji still completing your exam.

Yuuji finished at the two-hour mark, releasing an extended sigh of relief before hurriedly stuffing his laptop in his backpack. He goes down to thank and bear hug the professor. And you giggle at the expression of Nanami's dismay because he would've sufficed with a simple handshake like the other students. But that's what makes Yuuji an anomaly to the mass, being exceptionally himself no matter where or who he's with. The salmon-haired boy walks up and wishes you luck, going to his dorm to pack the last of his things and promising to pick you up when you're done.

And then it was just you and him: the professor standing at the podium in front of the classroom, reading a book while you finish the last bonus questions before submitting it on the class site. You sigh heavily, and a massive wave of relief washes over you. You did it. You handled all your exams. You're finally free!

"Finished?" You look for where the voice comes from. The professor looks up from his book at your figure.

You place your laptop in your bag and stand up from your seat. It took you twenty more minutes just to finish compared to Yuuji. "Yup! It wasn't so bad like you said, but I had more trouble with the bonus questions than everything else." You stretch your arms and legs.

Nanami chuckles at your feedback. "I see. I did say the bonus questions would be more lab-based. Good thing those who couldn't make it to some of the labs got to see me so I could help them or assign them with the other students who missed."

"You mean like Yuuji?" You walk up to the podium to be in front of your professor. "Because the poor guy couldn't make it to some of the labs because of club activities."

"Yes, Itadori is one of those students." Nanami smiles at the mention of the salmon-haired other. "He's undoubtedly a hard-working student, asking questions and enjoying the lectures. But that's for when he is in the class."

You chuckle as the subtle shade at your friend. "He does try, though! All the times we've studied together since this exam shows that he wanted to put his whole heart into this class. Not to mention that you're secretly his favorite teacher~." You mention the last part hoping it sparks something in the professor, and you're glad to see that the older man releases a wee chortle at the tiny piece of information.

"Hmm, well, I appreciate his enthusiasm and that he was deeply interested in the class. However," your professor closes his book and walks to the side of the podium, erasing an imaginary barrier between the two of you. "You also play a huge part in his engagement. He's lucky to have a friend like you."

Your brows trench, but a smile creeps past your conscious. "What makes you say that?"

"You've been a particular student in my class. Not only are you an easy grader, but you capture the material so well that Itadori trusts you enough to help him when I'm not available to do so. Anytime you ask me a question, it's always outside the textbook or linked to something you looked into outside the lectures."

The smile on your face grows large, and you look away to shield it from his vision. "Thank you, Professor Nanami."

"I won't be surprised if I check the grades later and see that you got an excellent grade." He removes his glasses and places them on the podium with his book. "I'd also suggest you consider minoring in this field if you'd like. And did you sign up for that scholarship I mentioned to you around two weeks ago?"

"Yes, I filled it out last week."

"Good." He moves a hand to place on your shoulder, and the action takes you aback because it's the first time he's ever touched you. "I expect great things from you, Y/n. I'm sure whatever you want to do in this life, you'll do just fine."

You bashfully nod at his kind words. And you extend your hand up to him to signify a ready handshake. "Thank you, professor. And thank you so much for all your help this semester."

The hand that was on your shoulder grabs hold of your hand. But what happens next was far from what you expected.

Nanami lifts your hand with his and faintly sets his lips on the back of your knuckles.

And this is the provenance of what sets everything in motion.

What he did to your hand didn't just surprise you, but also surprised him. Nanami froze with your hand still in his, not daring to move as you have yet moved an inch.

Why did I do that? It's the biggest question that runs through his mind at this time. One moment he was praising you for being one of his best students, then he busses his lips onto your hand the next. But why?

Nanami knew he was done for. Unable to look into your eyes, he can only tighten his hold on your hand. This was so not part of his routine. Today was supposed to be like any other exam day. He only came here to see his students for one last time before the start of summer break. He only came here to see his final class and have them take the exam before heading home. So why?

Perhaps it was the feelings of spring blinding him like a child. Or maybe his emotions got the better of him. But today was the last day of the semester he'd see his favorite pupil — you. Until now, the professor has done a phenomenal job maintaining an appropriate relationship between teacher and student, keeping a respectable distance while tending to his scholars.

And yet, he still would catch himself sneaking a selfish glance at you following through with his lectures, his heart swooning when you use your lovely voice to ask a question, or going blind when you flash a smile that rivals the sun's beam.

It's never right to have favorites; however, you clearly were the one that caught his attention the most.

Yet, also, this type of relationship is not the best for Nanami or you. You are a student, and he is your teacher. This could damage the reputation of both of you. It's the least favorable outcome between the two of you...

...So why haven't you snatched your hand away from mine yet?

Your hands tighten back with his, and the man finally chooses to look at you.

You're eyes bore into him, looking at him as if he's the only thing meant to have your concentration. Your breathing descends to a slower pace, but the rhythm of your heart beats the more you look at the man before you. "Professor Nanami..." you said his name in a whisper, and God, did it feel so wrong to do such a thing. As if your mouth would be thrown into a pit of flames for even calling to him with an indescribable connotation. Your mind is now fueled with a deep emotion rooted within, rooted with a scary longing.

"Y/n..." It felt even more wrong to have your name hushed in his voice, so hot to the ears that they could melt any second. Even so, a part of you wishes he would repeat it in the same tone again. Expressing the exact feeling of wanting something, wanting you.

Observant brown eyes lock in with your eyes. Faces move forward with hesitance. Eyes close. Noses begin to brush their skins against each other. And pairs of lips seal an unfortunate yet desirable event that cannot be revoked.

It takes a few minutes for you two to melt into each other from the makeout session. It takes a few minutes to block the glass windows with portable whiteboards to block the view from the outside. And it takes a few minutes for you to be a disheveled mess with your back on a table with Nanami between your legs, fingering your throbbing vulva and licking your slick and sensitive clitoris.

"Hoooh...Mmmm, Professor Nanami, your tongue. I-It feels too good—Nnnmph!!"

Nanami flicks his tongue on your sensitive, the cause for you to cry out. "Y/n, I told you. It's just the two of us, so call me by my name."

No, you mustn't. That's taking things too far. But, "K-Kentooo," that name is too tempting to not have seeped through your moans. "Your tongue and fingersss, they're too much!"

His middle and forefinger pull and push inside your gushy walls, prompting more of your sweet cries to fill the blonde man's eardrums. "Is that so? Too much for you? Think you're gonna cum?"

You nod desperately with each question, your cunt clenching around his digits as if you were to snatch them off. But that would be impossible when he's playing with your pussy like a toy. Sweat starts to form on your forehead, your orgasm inching in closer and closer by the second.

And Nanami notices, resulting in him coming to your aid for release. His tongue goes back to lapping around clit, kissing and sucking on the bud while the tempo of his fingers increases.

Your climax hits you hard, having your body twitch and quiver as the inner walls of your slit contract around the digits scraping your velvety texture. You grab tufts of his blond hair, messing up its neat shape. But neither of you cares, too engulfed with each other to worry about the details. Tears form at the end of your eyes as you experience your high, and you try to steady your breathing when your professor withdrawals himself from you.

"Good job, sweet pea. Made a mess on my fingers." He praises you while undoing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his well-defined torso for your eyes to see. But the real prize is when he unzips his pants and pulls down his briefs, his erect cock out in the open for you to marvel at.

But before you could look at it with all its glory, the tip of his dick presses up against your cunt, sliding it up and down to warm you up before entry. The feeling of his shaft grinding on your folds and clit is enough to have chills travel down your spine.

"Alright, love, I'm gonna go slow for you, okay?" His chocolate brown eyes examine your face to give him a response. You nibble on your lip and brace yourself after confirming your cooperation. "If you want me to stop, let me know. So, take some breaths for me."

And with that, the blonde pushes his cock into you with every exhale you take, the twinge of pain making it difficult to focus. Yet you still pull through because you want this so fucking much. There's no turning back now. And when the tip of his cock finally nestles inside your vagina, a choked shriek departs from your lips.

Slowly, Nanami pushes himself into you, every inch of his cock venturing further into your welcoming, throbbing chasm. He brushes up against your sweet spots causing you to jerk up. Nanami coaxes you through it. "It's okay, darling. You're taking me so well."

Tears come streaming down when the base of his cock kisses your folds, your union now solidified. The blonde gives you a moment to get acclimated with his girth inside before he gradually instructs a patient pace of the hips.

"Mmmm, Kento. 'S so good..." You mewl into the air, your face feeling hot and sweaty. The slow rhythm of his ruts is tantalizing, but it feels so good having his length scrape your insides. "Pleaseee, go fasteeer—"

"Want it faster? Nnmmm, damn, I'll go faster, baby." When the moment is right, his thrusts quicken the cadence, provoking more blissful whimpers to fill the silent room.

Your hands find purchase on his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. And Nanami takes the notion as a signal for him to dial up the speed, thrusting so deep into your pussy with an erratic tempo. Pelvis smacking hard on your slit and tender clit that it has you seeing stars.

"Hmmm, Ahh—Ahhhh! Ohhhh, fucking shit!" The harsh ruts to your lower half keep your ground to the table beneath you, sweat sticking your clothes to your back. The sounds of skin slapping each other are on par with your pornographic noises, having you feel indecent and shameful. But it's too late now.

"Hmmph! Oh, fuck," husky groans exit from Nanami, the man putting his forehead on yours. "You feel so good and tight around me, love. So close to—Ahhhh!! Shit, so close to cumming.."

You swallow the spit that secretes your mouth. "Haaaah, Kentoooo—" your eyes are shut to wholly focus on the commotion beneath you. Your sexes smacking each other, forcing you to clench around him with every thrust of the hips. "I'm about to—Nnnaaahh!! Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna cummm!"

He kisses your forehead. "You want to cum, sweet pea?"

"Yesssss, please, please, pleaseee!!" Begging for your release is all you can do as your mind turns into mush, the familiar sensation crawling back to haunt you.

He hushes your cries with his lips on yours, the final kiss filled with scorching passion while Nanami pistons a few thrusts plunging to your vulva.

Your orgasm washes over you again, and you moan blissfully into the blonde's mouth. Your gushy walls flutter around his member for the last time, coating it with your essence. And Nanami had to be quick not to sink too deep into the feeling, or else he'd spill his release into you. He removed himself from your lips and body, ejaculating his load onto your bare stomach, and you gasped at the contact of his fluids spilling on your exposed skin.

You look up to survey the man before you, and you're met with an image you never thought you'd see. Blonde hair that was once slicked neatly now had messy strands that framed his face beautifully. Sweat covered his sculpted physique, and hooded brown eyes examined your body under him.

Letting the silence calm the both of you down from your aftershocks, Nanami glances at your face and smiles. He brings a hand to cup your cheek, brushing off tears that painted your face.

"Glad to have you this semester. Have a good summer, darling."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!

An abrupt sound has you stop writing on the entry, bringing you back to the present time.

It sounded like it came from the front door, so you stuff your diary into your bag and exit the room to find out who's causing all the ruckus. When you open the door, the first thing that enters your line of vision is pink hair.

Your friend, Yuuji Itadori.

"Yo!" He greets you. "Ready to go? I called up your phone like four times."

"Oh, you did? Sorry, I must've forgotten to put it back on vibrate after the exam." You move out of the way for Yuuji to enter your dorm, closing the door behind him. "My stuff is in my room. I got two suitcases, a duffel bag, and my backpack."

"Alright then, let's hurry and get out of here! Think we can take the freeway since it's late at night, and traffic should be gone by now."

Yuuji grabs your two suitcases and heads outside to put them inside the trunk of his car. You walk around to check and see if anything is missing or misplaced before heading to your room and grabbing the other bags.

Yet before you leave the space entirely, you grab your diary again and write your final thoughts.

...I don't know what possessed me to let what happened happen. But, at the same time, I don't hate it for happening? I don't know...it was probably the feelings of spring taking over me or the relief that I finished all my exams.

But one thing is for sure; if I wasn't the last person to leave that classroom, none of that would've happened. I wouldn't have experienced that new side of Professor Nanami.

And as long as this keeps between me and him, then I'm kinda glad that it happened.

[sirfrogsworth]

Frogman's Camera Buying Guide

A few weeks ago someone asked if I could recommend an interchangeable lens camera (ILC) to supplement their smartphone photos and hopefully get better pictures of important things like vacations and pets.

I decided to go very extra with my response and due to that... I'm still not finished with it.

I'm worried I am letting this person down because they did not ask for a giant post explaining every detail about cameras in the history of forever.

So I am going to do a camera recommendation post without as much explanation and hopefully I can finish the giant post at some point in the near future.

If you want to take better pictures you are probably going to need a camera with a decent sized sensor, a fast lens, a tripod, and a flash.

The bigger sensor gives you more dynamic range so you can capture brighter and darker things in the photo.

A fast lens has a giant hole in the front that lets in a ton of light. That hole is called the aperture and the bigger it is, the better your photos in dark environments will be. So you will want something that does f/1.8 or f/1.4 (lower f-stop number = bigger hole = more light). This can also help you get a lot of cool background blur.

A tripod will help get you longer exposures without any blur from camera shake. Especially good for landscape photos.

And a flash is for taking photos of pets and other moving subjects when you are indoors and don't have a lot of light. A flash is an absolute game changer for indoor photos.

HOWEVER, never point it directly at your subject.

Point it at a large white ceiling or wall. The flash happens so fast that it freezes motion. It is how I got all of my indoor photos of Otis.

Here he was playing and being rambunctious and he is not blurry.

I used no special settings. I just stuck on a flash and pointed it at the ceiling and suddenly sheep are sticking to things.

Oh, and one other huge benefit of using a flash... you can take much better photos of pets with dark fur. So if you have a cute little void in your home, a flash can help you capture detail in their fur.

Just lift the shadow slider in your image editor and that beautiful fur will reveal itself.

If you get an ETTL or TTL flash, it will output the correct amount of light automatically. You can literally just put your camera in automatic mode, aim the flash at the ceiling, and press the shutter button.

Before I talk about recommendations I want to make one thing very clear.

GETTING A GIANT CAMERA WILL NOT AUTOMATICALLY GIVE YOU BETTER PHOTOS.

Aside from my flash aimed at the ceiling trick, a big boy camera is not a magic solution for better photos. In some cases, you might actually get *worse* photos than your smartphone. You need to learn the basic fundamentals of photography and you also need to learn some basic photo editing skills.

Smartphones employ powerful algorithms and computational processes to make every photo you take look as good as possible.

ILCs say, "Here is your RAW data, you figure out the rest."

You don't have to become an expert, but if you watch this free 6 hour photography course, that will ensure you have the knowledge needed to improve your photos.

Okay, let's get into the nitty gritty of buying a nice new old ILC.

If you are on a tight budget and cannot afford a fancy mirrorless camera, I would highly suggest a used DSLR. You can get them for very reasonable prices. And unlike just about every other modern technological gadget, cameras and lenses are built to last for decades. So I have no qualms about recommending used photography gear.

However, I do highly recommend using either KEH or MPB, as they have a long trial period and decent customer service. If something goes awry with your used gear, KEH has a 180 day warranty and MPB has a 6 month warranty. So there is much less of a risk than eBay or Facebook Marketplace. You pay a bit of overhead, but the piece of mind is worth it.

Before I start my recommendations I want to quickly explain the difference between APS-C and Full Frame camera bodies. (For brevity's sake I am going to omit Micro Four Thirds bodies as they are not typically geared toward beginner photography.)

APS-C has a "crop" sensor. It is a bit smaller than full frame and does not perform as well in low light (more noise). However these bodies are cheaper and can still produce great photos. You can see above the sensor is still significantly larger than a smartphone. APS-C adds a 1.5x zoom to all lenses. This can be annoying in small spaces but advantageous for outdoor photography like wildlife and sports. You can use full frame lenses on a crop sensor body (within the same brand). APS-C lenses are usually cheaper but of lower quality.

Full frame has a larger sensor that will give you less noise in low light. It is also much easier to get background blur. Full frame also allows you to work in more cramped spaces. You *cannot* use APS-C lenses on a full frame body. However, the lenses meant for full frame cameras tend to be better quality in general.

If you can save up a little more and get a full frame body, I would recommend it. These bodies used to be geared more toward professional use, but since mirrorless cameras became popular, used full frame DSLRs have become much more accessible to those on a budget. Full frame cameras make it easier to get better results in challenging circumstances. And challenging conditions are really the main area where ILCs still kick a smartphone's ass.

For tight budgets I would recommend the following...

Canon or Nikon APS-C DSLR camera body

50mm f/1.8 lens (Nifty Fifty)

18-55mm APS-C lens (good for landscapes and portraits)

Yongnuo ETTL Flash

There are lenses called "superzooms" which can go from (as an example) 18-200mm or 70-300mm and other crazy focal lengths. That sounds fantastic and very versatile... but these are usually utter shite. You may be tempted to get one of these lenses hoping it can do everything you need, but there are no free lunches in lens land. Unless you are spending many thousands of dollars, the wider the focal range, the worse the lens will be.

When you stick to the 18-55mm range, you can be assured the images will be decent. And if you find yourself really needing a telephoto lens, you can save up and add it to your collection later on. The 18-55 will give you wide angle for landscapes all the way to slightly telephoto for portraits and moderately close wildlife. This lens cannot be used indoors or at night without a flash. Which is why I recommend the Nifty Fifty for that purpose. $100 for a moderately sharp low light lens is a no brainer.

Also, stick to Canon, Nikon, Sigma, or Tamron lenses. You can try exotic 3rd party lens brands when you know more what you are doing. And always make sure the lens has autofocus before buying.

It's hard to give you exact recommendations as used items are not reliably in stock. So I'm going to show you an example of the above, but I am not necessarily saying you should buy this *exact* combination. You might be able to get something similar with Nikon as well.

Canon 60D APS-C DSLR

50mm f/1.8 lens

Canon 18-55mm APS-C lens (EF-S mount)

Yongnuo TTL Flash

(I wouldn't recommend getting a used flash, as the Yongnuo is already a great price and you can't know if someone used the flash 100,000 times or 20 times.)

Altogether that is about $500. You can start with the 60D and the 50mm Nifty Fifty for $330 and add on the other two items later on.

My recommended full frame setup...

Full frame Canon or Nikon DSLR body

50mm f/1.8 lens (same as before)

24-70mm full frame zoom lens (full frame equivalent to 18-55mm)

ETTL Yongnuo flash (same as before)

And an example from KEH might be...

Canon 6D Full Frame DSLR

Canon 50mm f/1.8 Lens

Sigma 24-70mm Full Frame Zoom lens (EF mount)

Yonguo ETTL Flash

And that would be about $800 total.

Again, you can start with just the camera and 50mm lens and add the other items later. So invest $500 initially and go from there.

And just to give a Nikon example as well...

Nikon D600 Full Frame DSLR

Nikon 50mm f/1.8 Lens

Tamron 24-70mm

Yonguo ETTL Flash (Nikon version)

I highly recommend researching any camera body and lens before purchase. I can vouch for the items above, but you should definitely check out some YouTube videos before buying.

All of the stuff on KEH and MBP is marked down in price for aesthetic reasons. They do test everything to make sure it is functional. If you care if the camera or lens looks pristine, it will cost a little extra. But if you don't mind if it is beat to hell, you can save some money. Ugly or not, you will get the same photos out of the gear. As I said, photography stuff is built to last for a long time. Almost all repairs are due to user damage and not defects. And usually defects manifest when the product is brand new.

Oh, I forgot about the tripod!

Amazon's $35 tripod is surprisingly decent. It even got a good review on a very picky tripod review site. I recommend starting with this and then upgrading when you know more what you need out of a tripod.

Amazon 60 inch Tripod

I worry I'm leaving out a lot of important information, but hopefully I can expand in the other post I am working on.

That said, if anyone is thinking of buying a camera and you are not sure about the items you selected, please feel free to message me and I will help you assess your choices. Please make sure you include a budget range when asking for buying advice.

I hope that helps. I will try to finish the more in depth post soon. And it will include tips for how to get better photos from your smartphone if you cannot afford an ILC at the moment.

Further resources...

Recipe for Landscape Photos Froggie's Encyclopedia of Lens Terms

[togetherhearted]

Hii! Idk if it's been done before but can you do Diasomnia boys with a reader who faints frequently (whether it'd be due to medical conditions or just anxiety is up to you)? ^^

Oh no no! It's totally new! I hope it is fine since I wrote this at 6 am after a 10 hours shift at night 😅 Also,I usually write for max 3 characters so I let my trusty randomizer choose for me.

SILVER,SEBEK AND MALLEUS WITH A READER THAT OFTEN FAINTS

-Silver's known for falling asleep for a long period; that doesn't mean he doesn't feel his heart jump in his throat when it happens to you.

-When you tell him it's because your anxiety he starts to check up on you more often. He's not an expert but wants to help you through those moments.

-Sebek goes all out whenever you faint. First thing he does is probably shouting for help.

You've been neglecting your health;mostly your sleep and that reduced you to a weaker state. He's extra worried about his fave human.

-Since you started to faint, he never leaves your side. Sometimes he can be a little too overbearing, but he means well.

Leaves you little notes to take a good night sleep or naps if needed.

-Malleus always had this solemn aura around him. Even the first time you fainted in front of him he seemed serious. Inside thought fear crept and made his heart ache.

-He's very attentive to your needs. If you faint when he's around he carries you back to infirmary princess style. He hopes you're not in danger every time it happens.

[barcalover86]

Unreal nightmare - Gavi

Summary: "How can I learn to live without you when you taught me how to be alive"

"Your relationship was a private one, and we didn't really get to see you two a lot. How was she?" one of the reporters asked.

Pablo chuckled a bit.

"She was so fearless." he started. "Energetic and chaotic kind of girl, you know. Wherever she was, she would bring the light after her. You couldn't feel sad or hopeless around her."

"She seemed like a really nice person."

"Yes, because she was."

Pablo had to stop because he knew that if he would say one more word, he was going to cry. He hated the tight feeling inside his neck.

The older man comforted the boy, putting one of his hands on Gavi's shoulder, while massaging it.

After a few seconds, Pablo continued.

"Before I met her, I only found happiness in winning. But she taught me to enjoy the process, to be thankful that I am healthy and that I have a house where I can sleep and that I have a really loving family that supports me."

"That's so kind of her."

"Yes, she was really kind. To everyone."

He smiled sadly while thinking about you.

"So tell us, Gavi. What happened? One day, she was out there cheering your name, and the next one, we found out that she had passed away? How come?"

The boy started to tear up. His hands reached his face, not wanting to let the world see his pain.

Everyone felt so sorry for him. They all knew how much he loved you and how happy you had made him.

"Just one day, she started scratching all over her body. We were all really confused especially when her eyes got yellow."

"Oh.."

"Yeah.. such a bad memory. Well, then we got her quickly to the hospital, and we stayed there for about 5-6 hours to get her a doctor. She then started to be in so much pain."

"She was having some allergy?"

"I hoped so, but she was not. We found out that she had liver cancer."

"I'm really sorry, Gavi-"

"We took her to the best doctor, but it was all too much for her and after only 1 month of being in the hospital, they let her home for the 'she better dies home with her family, rather than alone' kinda reason".

"But.. After only 1 month, it was that crucial??"

"Liver cancer is extremely dangerous and painful. It expands incredibly fast."

"And she was staying at your house while you just had to pretend that everything was fine... to not worry the people around you."

"Something like that, yes. But our families were there to help me out with her. As I said before, everyone loved her."

"How did she die?"

"She lived more than any doctor said she would. But God.. she looked so different and drained. Even at her worst, she was asking for everyone's health" Gavi laughed a bit.

The reporter smiled.

"I don't know if it was bad or if I'm thankful that she died in my arms.."

"Oh, Gavi-"

"Don't start, please," he once again teared up. "I just don't understand why she had to suffer like that when she was the most angelic person that I've met. She was so, so young.."

"How old was she?"

"17."

A loud silence acapared the room.

No one knew what to say in these situations.

--------------‐---------------------‐---------------------‐------

"Gavi, go to sleep! Tomorrow you have a big game and you have to be rested."

"Pedri, please leave me alone."

"Then I'd be a bad friend. C'mon, brother, go have a nap. I know you're tired."

"I can't sleep, Pedri! Ok? If I close my eyes I only see her dead in front of me!"

"Pablo-"

"Everyone is dreaming about the healthy version of her, and I'm the only one that can't even imagine my girlfriend being.. normal and real and-"

"Gavi! Stop!" Pedri began. "You saw her at her worst. It's normal to have that imagine painted in your brain for a period of time. But that definitely doesn't mean that you are not able to also dream about her when she was all healthy."

"I'm afraid that she forgot me and only looks out for her family and not me, Pedri."

"Don't say that! You know that's not true at all."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because we both know that she loved you more than anyone. Now go to sleep and let's have a great game tomorrow so that you can win for her, alright?"

--------------‐---------------------‐---------------------‐------

"Gavira, do you want to play?" Xavi asked the footballer.

"Yes."

"Ok then, go change!"

Before the game, Pablo had promised himself to give his all for you.

And he did that.

He helped his team a lot.

He didn't see you along the crowd, but he somehow felt you in him. You made him stronger and he even scored. Just. For. You.

"She'd be so proud of you, boy."

And then Gavi looked into the sky and saw your shadow.

And then he smiled.

People were cheering his name, and he then promised himself that he would continue to fight for life, just like you did. You fought for every second of life because every moment matters. And by your absence, he learned to appreciate things more. He learned that to live is the most incredible gift that we, humans, have.

[drferox]

My MS Diagnosis

So I’m approaching the 2 year mark since my Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and I thought I’d better document how I got here, because being the patient is a weird experience, especially for a condition that had kind of vague symptoms that needed a fair amount of work up.

My symptoms actually started in early 2020, when I was in the third trimester of pregnancy. The main symptom was mistaken for carpal tunnel syndrome - numbness in my fingers that would progress to increasingly violent pins & needles sensations, that would progress to burning if I tried to push through it. Only this sensation would extend all the way up to my shoulders at times. I stopped performing surgery, because not only was I unsatisfied with my lack of sensation to know what I was doing with my tissue handling, but the pain would get worse quickly in constrictive surgical gloves in the presence of patient warming. So I stopped performing surgery in late pregnancy and was told it would get better a few months after giving birth.

It did not.

So six months after giving birth, finding myself able to use my hands for short periods but still unable to perform surgery to my standard, I went back to complain to the doctor. I also couldn’t play video games properly, my arms would often be numb when I woke up, all the way up to my shoulder, and they were super temperature sensitive. Even hot water from washing dishes would set them off.

They sent me down a carpal tunnel work up - ultrasounds and talking to a neurologist. The short version is they did tell me I had mild carpal tunnel… on one side only.

Which did not make any damn sense considering I had symptoms on both sides all the way up to my shoulder.

The worst neurologist in the world could not explain to me why a mild problem on one wrist was affecting sensation all the way up to the opposite shoulder, and just said ‘it happens sometimes’. Now, I like to think I have a solid understanding of the basics of how a body works, and was really unsatisfied with this answer. They recommended I talk to a surgeon, since I’d already been doing a bunch of physiotherapy, but I decided not to. Surgery could have put my hand in a cast for up to 6 weeks, I had a 6 month old baby to care for at home and a partner who was useless at best, and abusive at worst. I could not afford the time in a cast.

So I went to try something else, visiting an osteopath to see what they could do about my ‘mild’ carpal tunnel, and while I’m there, these headaches I’ve been getting.

She spent a good long while stretching out different muscle groups, and found that certain neck muscle stretches changed the sensations I was getting in my fingertips. So whatever was causing the hand problem was coming from somewhere in the neck, and she recommended I get a CT scan.

Went back to my doctor to get a referral for a CT scan, and explained what was going on. He thought about it for a minute, didn’t voice his concerns, and upgraded it to a neck MRI.

That MRI found a demyelinating lesion in my neck. So went back for a full Central Nervous System scan and found a couple more borderline ones.

That sent me back to a (different) neurologist, had a proper neurological exam that found a few random patches of altered skin sensation in addition to the arm weirdness I had going on. So I was probably a MS case, but not particularly severe as MS goes.

To confirm it I needed a lumbar puncture to look for oligoclonal bands in by CSF. The lumbar puncture was a moderately unpleasant experience which then mandated that I remain lying down for 24 hours so that my spinal fluid didn’t spring a leak. With a baby and a distinctly unhelpful partner, I barely made it to that 24 hours.

And then… I sprung a CSF leak. Which is a jolly weird experience I can tell you.

When your CSF leaks from a lumbar puncture you will feel perfectly fine… when you are lying flat on your back, because your spine flops over the hole and plugs the leak. If you’re upright at all the spine flops away from the hole and it slowly leaks out, and you get more of this weird frontal headache that gets worse the longer you’re upright, standing there talking to the ER admissions nurse. And the info I had explained that it can progress to seizures and similar the worse it gets, but I only got as far as pain and fuzzy vision. I seriously could only be upright for ten minutes without pain, and had to lie down to resolve it.

That required some medicine-that-looks-like-magic to fix, called a blood patch. Doctors took some of my blood, fresh out of the vein, and inserted it into my spine approximately where the leak should be, so that the clot would cover the leaky patch. Self blood magic. It worked brilliantly, about an hour later.

The CSF tap ordeal confirmed the presence of the oligoclonal bands, and then I got stunted into the public health system, in a department specifically geared towards managing Multiple Sclerosis patients. They debated for a little while, at a multidisciplinary meeting, whether I was really MS or a Clinically Isolated Syndrome (which is like Multiple Sclerosis but without the ‘Multiple’ part), but settled on MS. Yes, Tumblr, I was nearly diagnosed with CIS.

The shoe thing took about a year from when I actively complained to doctors, or about 18 months from the first probable symptoms. That’s approximate because some things that were thought to be pregnancy symptoms could have been due to MS, like fatigue and leg weakness. I’m pretty lucky that I’m comfortable in hospitals and with medical procedures, am reasonably medically literate. I think the magic phrase that got things to happen quickly was ‘these symptoms are greatly affecting my ability to do my job’.

I don’t think my MS has progressed since starting the medication (and I’ll talk about the medication in another post). I’ve acquired one additional brain lesion since diagnosis, but I have no clue what physical symptom it’s associated with.

While some symptoms are better, I still cannot perform surgery to the standard or with the endurance that I used to,so I basically don’t any more. I can do about ten minutes, which is enough to bail a new graduate vet out of trouble, but not enough to take over completely for them. I’ve had a few years to think about it but I don’t know what the MS is going to do to my career, only that I can still practice for now.

It’s not great, but it could be a whole lot worse, and that’s how I got here.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Innata Malevolentia - Part Two

Summary: Dibs gathers the prisoners for a devastating announcement | Word Count: 2.8k ~ | warnings below the cut!

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

warnings: mentions of past non-con crimes (but vague), intimate examinations, Ettore being creepy, mentions of forced pregnancy, forcing others into sexual situations, manipulation, mentions of a menstrual cycle and ability to bear children, violence, threatening language and actions

Nothing strikes fear in the heart like the feeling of being followed.

Completely helpless. With no weapons but your own fists to use should you need.

Against a man, broad and tall, muscled and fit, what chances were there for her?

If he so wanted, everytime he walked past her cell, looking inside with barely-contained malicious intent, he could do anything.

She dreaded Dibs coming into the room at night, to tighten the zip ties on their wrists to keep them in their beds.

"Is this really necessary for all of us?" She'd asked with a stiff look once.

Dibs didn't reply, and kept her eyes averted to the task at hand, and as punishment had even tightened them somewhat compared to normal. The plastic dug into her wrists uncomfortably, even making it difficult to relax and go to sleep in the first place.

Maybe Dibs knew what Ettore wanted, and thought, that she should be awake to see it happen. 

"You shouldn't make her hate you more than she already does" Mink mused, her wrists bound loosely at her sides, only her head turned towards her cellmate.

She scoffed, "You think she hates me?" She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "forgive me for not wanting to be tied down to my bed while I sleep"

Mink sighed and looked towards the ceiling.

"Not ideal" is all she replied with, "Boyse has really dropped us all in it, huh?"

She wasn't in the mood to make a joke of it. For her, it was a real fear she felt. And the idea that the threat named Ettore looked ever closer the more she thought about it.

There were only so many more times he'd simply walk past her room, before paying her a visit.

Mink slept like a fucking log. And he probably knew this, having walked past many times, his steps increasing in volume as if to rest if anything would rouse her into wakefulness.

He was making a meal out of it. Well and truly.

Stalking his prey. Seeing which way was best to tear her open.

Days didn't exist on the ship. Only periods of time between sleeping.

Of course they'd try to replicate days and nights with the lighting but it never felt natural. And it always felt it dragged on more than it would have done on Earth.

When Dibs came back in one morning to cut the zip ties from each of the women's hands, she left with parting words.

"Infirmary. 1 hour"

Simple as that.

She'd given Mink a weird look. 

It couldn't mean anything good.

Was it everyone? Or just them?

But they soon found out when they walked to the opposite side of the ship, that it wasn't even the entire population of prisoners, though few. But more like 5 or 6.

The infirmary wasn't large by any means, so when they all piled on, they were practically shoulder to shoulder. Apart from her, who managed luckily to nab a chair in front of Mink, who stood behind her with her hand on her shoulder in comfort of what was to come.

However bad it would be.

Dibs was waiting in her chair near her desk. With a file in hand. Looking stiffly at everyone as they entered.

It wasn't just women, Monte and Tchemy had also joined after a moment. And lastly, three minutes late, Ettore also. He stood leaning disinterested against the doorway, tall enough to see everyone inside.

She didn't miss the way he threw a smug glance in her direction. Her head whipped forward, even the briefest of eye contact made all the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end.

"Thank you all for dropping by" Dibs started.

As if you haven't forced us to be here, she thought.

Every one of them looked wholly disinterested. Bored even. Monte had his arms crossed over his chest, his chin tipped upwards with his eyes looking down on her.

What was the deal with those two? There was something more to it than met the eye.

"I know the rumours that have been circulating, about the purposes of your frequent appointments" she continued, crossing her legs and playing with the end of her long braid slumped over her shoulder.

"I am here to tell you now that they are somewhat true. In line with my research I wish to create a healthy fetus, to check the effects of radiation on development"

She wanted to scoff.

It sounded so sick when she said it out loud. And yet, she seemed almost proud of it.

"For months, I have been collecting sperm samples, but so far any attempt at conception through artificial insemination have been…unsuccessful"

Good.

She felt Mink's hand on her shoulder grip just that bit tighter. Confirming, she was right. She'd always been right.

"Therefore, I am planning to endeavour upon a new method. One I hope will prove fruitful to our cause"

Our cause.

Who did she think she was? Did she think they were all grateful to be stuffed like a Christmas turkey given the first opportunity?

She was fucking delusional.

Before she could open her mouth, Boyse beat her to it.

She always had a short fuse.

"Just get on with it" Boyse shifted from foot to foot, putting on a front of toughness, despite being afraid herself.

Every woman was thinking the same thing.

What the fuck did this have to do with us?

But Boyse's inability to hide her fear only made Dibs smile.

"I have examined all the females, and have come to the conclusion that you three" she pointed to them, all huddled together to make themselves appear bigger, "have working reproductive systems, and semi-regular menstrual cycles"

And?

"You will be paired up with a male based solely on your genetic compatibility. Opposing immune systems. With the goal of creating a strong, healthy fetus"

What. The. Fuck.

The air was sucked out of the room. 

Mink's hold faltered and fell to her side. Shocked.

Dibs smiled as she carried on, "to create a child in the natural manner"

Oh fuck that.

"This is hardly natural" she spat, with poison in her voice. Dibs hooded her eyes as she looked at her.

But it didn't deter her one bit.

She was entitled to give her every bit of anger she felt.

"You're playing god"

Dibs didn't respond to that. But her lips twitched, as if she were holding back the urge to smile.

"And what if we refuse?" Mink asked, her fingers trembling with anger.

"With all due respect" Dibs answered quickly, "I'm afraid that's impossible"

"You can't make us!" Boyse exploded, her cheeks all red, stance like a cat ready to pounce.

She wanted to be sick. It felt like being sold, without even the decency to exchange funds.

Some of these people were murderers. Rapists. The worst of the worst.

It felt wholly wrong to be betrayed by your own sex. Given to the opposite like a fully wrapped present they hadn't been allowed to touch til Christmas morning.

Some of the men, she knew, were just aching for the permission to touch them. Having been restricted for so long inside prison, as well as unable to do anything whilst incarcerated on Earth.

To do anything they wanted.

And all of the women felt betrayed that Dibs had given it, without thought of their pain, their honour and dignity.

She had thrown blood in shark-infested waters.

And she didn't know if something like that could be forgiven.

There was nowhere to hide from them. 

Because now, those men they were forced to live alongside in fear felt entitled to them.

To their bodies.

To enact their barely-contained violence in a manner which struck fear into all the women involved.

A fear only a woman would understand.

The fear of suddenly realising that these men were so much larger than them. Stronger.

And it wouldn't take any effort whatsoever to hold them down and do what they liked.

It was like walking home at night all over again, tugging your coat over your body tighter to appear smaller, with each key nestled between your fingers, and the echoed laughter of a group of men behind you.

Women had good peripheral vision.

It was sickening to think it was evolutionary.

A needed skill.

But here, when outside of these cold, metal walls, there only existed emptiness, dread widened a pit in their stomachs.

There was no escape.

Dibs read from her file.

"Based on genetic compatibility, Boyse shall be paired with Monte"

Boyse argued, and Monte simply stated he wouldn't do it, preferring to keep his fluids to himself.

But her gaze remained on Dibs in front of her, arms crossed across her chest instinctually, waiting to hear her name.

"Mink with Tchemy"

She closed her eyes, bracing for impact. Like waiting for an oncoming car to hit you, the headlights becoming brighter, anticipating the air being punched out your lungs.

"And Ettore with-"

Fuck.

Even her name next to his made her want to vomit.

And then came the thought of what they'd have to do.

And that nearly made her gag in reality. An acrid, sour taste flooding her mouth. Her limbs feeling numb, like all the gravity had been sucked out from the ship.

She dare not look at him.

Her eyes immediately went about the room until she spotted what she'd been after.

A scalpel.

She looked at Dibs with indifference. Not wanting to give her the benefit of thinking she cared enough to act out.

Dibs knew what Ettore was.

And still, relinquished her fellow woman to him. In pursuit of a fucked up, unethical experiment on a child.

"You may begin tomorrow. Share a cell if that is easier"

Fuck you, you old cunt.

You know 'he' will not wait a day.

"I will book in weekly appointments, to check your progress"

And I will cave your fucking face in.

It was difficult to say nothing.

She still didn't spare Ettore a look when she got up, slipping past Mink, who was stood still in complete shock. She used this brief moment with Mink blocking her body to slide a scalpel off the table and slip it into her pocket.

Boyse was verbally abusing Monte, stating that she wouldn't let him touch her.

Mink and Tchemy simply stared at one another from different ends of the room, resigned to it.

When she reached the door, his arm was across it. 

She lifted her eyes to his, and saw what she expected. A smirk pulled at his lips, his features, sharp and defined, were exaggerated with the harsh clinical light. His otherwise blue eyes, were pushed to the edge with the black of his iris, glimmering.

Like an animal with a meal in front of it.

Unchained.

He leaned back, dropping his hand, to let her pass.

She almost didn't want to walk past him, like she'd be tangled in his vine like hold if she dared. As if he'd drag her beneath the depths and give her no air just to watch the way she clawed at her throat in desperation.

Even when she was walking down the hallway, to the toilets to be sick, she felt no respite. No sense of safety in being away from him.

She knew he'd be back for her.

That he'd let her go now, to play with her. Make her second guess if she was really safe.

It was dizzying, the dull tingle in her gut she got when she saw him now. Like being punched square in the face with your ears ringing, before your body falls limply to the ground with nothing to cushion your fall.

It was unclear if the tingle was a nice one or not. For the sake of her sanity, she hoped not.

They were expected to go about their daily duties as if nothing had happened.

As if their lives weren't going to be irreparably changed the following day. 

Whereas before, she saw him everywhere. 

She hadn't seen him once since the infirmary.

It was a blessing and a curse.

Not seeing him felt safe, grounded. And that perhaps on his hellscape of a ship, there was something to feel grateful for.

But not seeing him, not even hearing his footsteps, meant that there was anticipation there. A morbid suspence.

She knew what kind of man he was. Heard the rumours of what he'd done to women before, enough to land him in this hellhole.

Who was to say he wouldn't do the same, especially now he was given permission.

But not consent.

Perhaps that's the bit he liked.

Mechanically, she folded the clothes on top of the dryer as it shook violently back and forth, the clothes being tossed inside. The loud hum vibrated the air around her, filling the otherwise quiet space.

The laundry room was a place of respite. The light in there was broken, so it didn't have the same stark vibrancy as the others. It had a dull glow, making the room look as if it caught the sunset.

Those were the things she missed about Earth. The natural things like a sunset.

But she couldn't deny that seeing the stars in a certain way made her feel calm.

But it didn't last long.

She dropped the shirt she was folding when a large, male hand slapped over her mouth, tugging her body back to crash into his. Her first instinct was to fight back. 

Her breath hissed quickly against his hand through her nose as she fought, fighting the urge to gag when she felt his breath waft on her neck as he spoke.

"Stay still or I'll break your fucking neck"

His voice was dark and low. Unlike anything she'd heard before.

He sounded like an animal.

Ettore had finally come for her.

He grunted and fought as she thrashed around, his other hand coming round to wrap around her chest to keep her arms from hitting him. But he couldn't keep her from wiggling out of his grasp, and she got one elbow free and hit his jaw with a crack.

"Fucking stupid cunt" he hissed, barely reacting and as soon as she turned he struck her across the face. It wasn't even the force of it that had her vision blur and ears ring, but the abruptness of it.

Ettore grips her face with an iron hold, his fingers digging painfully into her jawbone. Holding her in place, forcing the back of her head harshly against the wall and pressing himself against her.

Even in the orange hue of the room, he looked utterly terrifying, with no warmth to him whatsoever. Only his blond hair gave off some semblance of radiance.

There was that look again.

No colour to his eyes. His jaw tight with rage.

"Don't be a spoilsport. I'm the only entertainment you're likely to get around here" he grins, "Just let me take what I want and we call it even"

Her wide eyes feel like they're shaking looking at him. And while he's preoccupied pressing his erection against her clothed core, her hand rifles in her pocket, fingers wrapping around the scalpel she'd swiped earlier.

"And if you're lucky, I might be gentle" he smiles.

The smile doesn't falter when she reaches up and presses the blade, as small as it is, against his throat before he has a chance to close in on her.

In fact, he looks amused.

"That's cute" 

She can hear the blood roaring in her ears. His fingers flex against her face. 

She presses the blade flush to his skin, wondering what it would be like, what it would feel like, to slash his throat, and feel his thick, oily blood cost her arms and hands.

"You're out of your league, sweetheart"

"Don't fucking call me that" she says in return, the best she can when he holds her face.

Ettore smirks, "You have no idea what I'm capable of doing to you if you continue to challenge me"

She swallows.

In a way he's right.

She had no idea what he's capable of doing.

And she doesn't want to find out.

"Touch me again and I'll slit your fucking throat"

She laughs through his nose, his fingers slipping from her face, and she takes the first genuine breath she can, after a while of holding it.

He has a way of doing that.

"I look forward to it" 

She's only aware of just how close he'd been when he's gone. His tall, broad form seemed to encompass hers entirely. His aura was like the deepest poison, sinking into every pore and crack there was, turning her insides.

He could have overpowered her.

He could have.

And as he slips out of the laundry room, his gleaming eyes looking back at her trembling form with her back pressed against the washing machine, a tiny slit against his neck bleeds where the blade was pressed.

He wipes it away with his thumb like a paper cut.

He said it himself.

'I like a little struggle'.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard | @bellstwd | @blairfox04 | @hb8301  | @jamespotterismydaddy | @mochi-rose | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires  | @risefallrise  | @theoneeyedprince  | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya  | @urmomsgirlfriend1  | @valeskafics  | @watercolorskyy | @moonlightfoxx

[ascendanttarot]

PAC: Messages From Your Spirit Guides

Hi everyone! This PAC will cover whether your spirit guides have any messages or guidance for you. This is a little shorter than the last PAC but only a little bit, promise! I'll list a few signs for every pile before your reading to ensure you have picked the right pile for yourself. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. And! You’ll get a channelled song! :)

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right: Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3

Pile 1

Signs:

You play guitar or favour the sound of acoustic guitar in your songs

You listen to the following bands/artists: Hozier, Florence + the Machine, Mitski, and other similar artists

This is a weird one, but when cleaning you like buying the sprays/wipes/detergent with a fruitier smell?

You like going on nature walks

You read poetry

Your cards: The Tower, Queen of Cups rx, (clarified by the Six of Swords rx) Page of Wands

Your message: Something unfolded in ways you could have never imagined. It’s like all your backup plans fell apart too, and your optimism has been taken away from you. I just heard ‘victim of circumstance’. This is a difficult message to give, but your guides are saying whatever happened, happened beyond anyone’s control. You tried to shield yourself from these difficult emotions by hardening your heart, creating distance between you and your feelings... but you’re spirit guides are asking you, “Is this really worth it all?”. It won’t be an easy feat to move on from this situation, and your guides understand that. However, they’re saying that when the time comes and the right opportunity is in front of you to take that first step of healing, please take it. The best part of your life requires a childlike sense of wonder. It’s going to require a lot more determination and ambition than what you’re feeling now. Your guides are saying to take your time to feel messy, and when it’s time to heal, don’t rush yourself to do that too. They’re here for you if you ask them. They believe in you even if you don’t believe in yourself, but they are waiting patiently and happily for a time when you’ll start standing by your back too.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Song: In Your Own Sweet Time by Zaska, Karen Cowley and Hozier

Pile 2

Signs:

You have an alternative sense of style

You love 80s music. I just heard Wham and The Cure to name a few of the bands that popped up in my intuition

Odd sign to give, but you may have had a vaporwave phase? If you know, you know

You like Fantasy and Sci-Fi books and shows

Another odd message to give here—you may be sensitive to touch, but it goes both ways? Like you can only wear certain fabrics, or you like soft things, but also people may say you give good hugs

Your Cards: 8 of Swords rx, 6 of Cups, The World

Your Message: I just saw the image of your spirit guides popping open a bottle of champagne with a knife before chucking (yes, that violently) streamers and confetti! You know why? Because. You. Did. That. You’ve just come out of a period in your life when you had to do some intense shadow work. You’ve worked on your biases, and have started to fix your flawed systems on your environment and yourself; your spirit guides could not be more proud of you. They’re celebrating 24 hours a day 7 days a week because that chapter of your life is over! This new phase of your life will be given gently to you with the love and compassion you deserve. I think this may be an opportunity to let yourself be seen by others again. At the very least you’ll be hanging out with old friends and making new ones, but at the most, I’m seeing possibly an opportunity for a project to start online. Either way, your spirit guides will have your back for that in the future. For now, though, they’re asking you to put your feet up and high-five yourself for how far you’ve come!

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Your Song: Blame It on the Boogie by The Jacksons (I’m serious, they’re having a party right now haha!)

Pile 3

Signs:

You prefer the dusk over the dawn

You like RnB, so artists like Victoria Monét and Ashanti might be familiar artists to have in your playlists. I also heard Destiny’s Child and Ms. Lauryn Hill

I feel like you might like, collect, or work with crystals and metals. I just saw some people here may wear protective jewellery

You like sports, or were heavily involved in sports when you were younger, but you aren’t anymore

I just heard ‘helping hand’, so you may just be a really helpful and generous person. You’d be the friend people go to if they need advice on something

Your Cards: 2 of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Cups

Your Message: Okay this feels pretty straightforward. Your spirit guides want you to know that you’re coming into a divine partnership (not necessarily romantic if that’s not you’re thing or if you’re aromantic, so this could be a friendship or a business partner even) very soon. With the emphasis on the number two in this reading, this may correlate with timings in your life. You may meet this person in 2 weeks, 2 months, or even within the span of 2 years, but there’s a strong message of divine timing working in your favour. I feel you may have issues trusting the people around you to have good intentions because of negative experiences in the past. This person won’t break that mental belief for you, you’ll do that yourself, but they will certainly be the catalyst for it. Maybe the reason why you’re so jaded is because you’ve hoped for this so long the hope soured to cynicism, but this is not the natural state of your soul. This person will offer you the emotionally mature partnership you’ve dreamed of, with a sensitivity for you and your feelings you aren’t used to. Your spirit guides can’t wait for you to meet them because I’m hearing this relationship will be healing for all the parties involved. They’re with you on this every step of the way.

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

Your Song: Love Is on My Side by Brandy

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for doing fewer chores around the house because I'm not around very much?

I (23m) live with 2 other housemates (W 23M, and S 23M). We've known eachother for 4+ years now, and lived together on and off for about 3. Me and S are in college, and W has graduated and is working in the area.

The problem is, S doesn't really pull his weight in the chores department despite having objectively the most free time out of the 3 of us. He almost never does dishes, takes out the trash, or contributes to cleaning shared spaces without being explicitly prompted/helped. This was less of and issue in previous years living together because W and I had more free time/were around the house more, so we didn't have problems picking up the slack like we do now.

W works a full time job, and has an hour commute both ways so he isn't around much on weekdays, and tends to spend a lot of time with his gf on weekends. I work 2 student jobs on top of a full class load and only tend to be around the house to sleep on weeknights, and work ~8hrs a day on weekends. S is taking about half the credits of a full time student, and does not work.

W and I still manage to get "our" share of chores done (i.e washing the dishes we generate, taking out trash, some general cleaning) but neither of us are around/able to do this on most weeknights. S will leave dirty dishes in the sink/on the dining table after eating, and rarely if ever loads/unloads the dishwasher. This has become very evident now that neither me and W aren't around much, becuase the sink will be entirely full of dirty dishes despite both of us hand washing or immediately loading the dishes we use in the dishwasher.

Now that there's the context, AITA for entirely stopping picking up after S/doing any extra chores? I have been spending under 6 hours a day in the house for the last few weeks due to midterms, and have been eating all of my meals at work/on campus so I haven't been adding to dishes/general mess around the house. I could tell it was getting messy but i was trying to catch as much sleep as possible and could honestly say none of the mess was mine. I warned both of them that I'd be really busy/mostly gone for the next month between projects and midterms, and specifically brought up that I wouldn't be able to help out as much.

W was really understanding and said that was fine, S just said "cool". In this period, W started spending a lot more time at his GFs place because the mess was pretty bad and he didn't have the time to take care of everything alone. Je told S he would be spending less time around the house and again, S was fine w it. We both hoped S would step up and keep the space clean because we've frequently talked and seemingly agreed about the standards we'd like for the house.

I bumped into S on my way to bed last night, and he started complaining about how messy the house is and that me and W haven't been doing anything to help. I pointed out that neither of us have been around recently and that it's 99% his mess, and that he's a big boy with free time and can take care of it himself. He said that "you and W could have at least just asked and I'd do it" and said that I was being really passive aggressive about it. I just said "dude I'm going to bed, I'll clean what's mine tomorrow" and left it at that. I did a super light cursory cleaning of a few things, but left all the dishes/messier spaces alone because it wasn't my doing.

I feel like TA because I did/have been purposely doing less around the house but I'm sick of cleaning up after S. W doesn't really want to get involved because he isn't a fan of conflict and is able to basically live with his gf, but I did let him know this happened and he doesn't think I've done anything wrong, though I could have been a little nicer to S. So wise and powerful Tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[romanestuffsposts]

I'm on my period rn 😖 and I have pains from the hell :( soo I was thinking if you could do daddy stucky x little reader x little Peter where the reader has so bad pains that she can bearly move and Peter don't really understand what happened he just sees that his little sis is in very much pain(she's in the headspace 1-3 and he is like 6 or 7) and he tries to help🥺🥺💞

Hi there love! 💜

I'm so sorry you had to go through this.. I hope you feel better now. I totally understand what you’re feeling. I’m on my first day right now 😕 I send you lots of loveeeeee 🩷

I hope you like how i wrote your request sweetie!

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : period time, pain, tears, peter heal you, not a long fix (i think, it depends on people’s opinion hihi), lot’s of love and fluff, pet name, kisses

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : it’s period time and Peter is worried for you and want to help you

A/N : just to be clear, when I saw « your Papa » « your Daddies » etc, the your is for Peter and Little reader, not just little reader like other times.

****

You’re in front of your favorite show, with your favorite dessert in hands and your favorite stuffie with you, so why are you upset ? Peter doesn’t really understand why his little sister, you, isn’t happy right now like you usually are when you have everything like just now.

Your Papa told him that you were in pain right now, he watched him changing you differently than usual and when you all went back downstairs in the living room there was a towel on the couch which was odd. Your Daddies took care of you differently and he didn’t understand why.

Peter knew he couldn’t questions you because of your state and he didn’t even know how to ask and what to ask at your Daddies to understand what is happening. So he played calmly on the floor beside you so he could have an eye on you. Of course he’s worried, he doesn’t need to understand and to feel worried about you.

It’s been only two hours that your Daddies went to work in their office, as much as they wanted to stay and take care of their little babies they couldn’t. In those two hours you tried to sleep a little through the show, without success, you tried to enjoy the show and even eat but the pain was too much.

It’s the first day, if you know, you know.

You start groaning both from the pain and the annoyance of the situation which alert Peter. He stopped his game and turns his eyes to you. He watches you curling your little body against yourself and sees the pain on your face. He stands up from the ground and walk toward you, his caresses his hand in your hair and kisses your forehead ‘’you wanna my help ?’’ He quietly asks.

You nod your head.

He wipes your little tears and gives you a little kiss on the forehead before running upstairs. He looks around the playroom and smile when his eyes fall on what he was looking for.

You hear footsteps running down the stairs and seconds later, he was by your side ‘’I know wha you need’’ He smiles. He hold one of your doll ‘’she gonna heal you’’

He lifts her arms as if she wanted to hug you and then he gently brings her hands toward your belly. He lifts your shirt and rests her hands on your skin, he makes her rub it.

You sniff and look down at her hands ‘’she hep ?’’

He nod and smiles ‘’yes she h-help you wis pain, you don move, okay ?’’

You nod ‘’otay’’

Your Daddies came to take a break but stop at the door to watch you.

Peter starts singing the song your Papa sings whenever one of you is sick and doesn’t feel well. It usually make you sleepy so he tries that too.

Your Daddy smiles at your Papa.

The doll end up the work with kisses on your lower belly and then all over your head ‘’finiiiish’’ Peter exclam with happiness.

You giggle at his mood which make him proud because he and the doll succeed at helping you. ‘’Thank you for helping her, big boy’’ Steve smiles as he enters the room. He takes Peter in his arms ‘’You’re the best brother you know that right ?’’ Peter smiles and hides his face in your Papa’s neck which make him chuckle.

Your Daddy comes by your side and strokes your head ‘’how are you feeling, babygirl ?’’

‘’Bette’’ you mumble.

He smiles and nods ‘’perfect then’’

‘’You hear that ? You made her feel better’’ Your Papa whispers in Peter’s ear

‘’Why don’t we finish the show together before preparing dinner ?’’ Your Daddy proposes. Peter shows his excitation and runs toward the couch. Of course he decides to sit beside you because he wants to be the one to take care of you and not someone else.

[longhardtransitionreturns]

I've always had this fantasy of not knowing I was pregnant, getting on a flight, and then having a really difficult birth on a plane while all the other passengers listen to my screams.

I spend the day leading up to my flight dealing with stomach cramps but figure they're either from the dodgy kebab I had at the pub or it's my period finally showing up. I've never been regular but it's been quite a while since I've had one so this could be the start of a really bad cycle.

I'm excited to wear my new jumpsuit, which is basically a one piece sweat suit that zips up the front. I'm meeting my partner when I land so I put on a tiny black lace thong and the matching bra and set off for the airport.

Wrangling my luggage while my stomach keeps clenching so hard it takes my breath away is difficult but I finally make it through security. I'm taking a break, rubbing my aching belly, when a pregnant woman passing grabs my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"It hurts when they get rowdy, huh? Seems like they know when you're about to fly."

My cheeks turn red. I know I've been gaining weight but I didn't realize I looked pregnant!

I feel like it's rude to tell her that I'm not with child and actually just have to take a massive shit so I smile and mumble what I hope sounds like a sympathetic noise.

After unsuccessfully trying to go to the bathroom, I finally board my flight. I'm grateful to be in first class because it's suddenly really painful to sit any other way but with my legs spread wide.

I try to sleep, especially because I hate flying over the water and the first 6 hours of this flight are over the Atlantic. But not only does the pain in my stomach stop me from sleeping, it drives me from my seat every ten minutes to go strain on the toilet. I'm starting to freak out a little; I've never felt pain like this and for the first time I start to get scared something is really wrong.

Eventually even the engine noise can't mute the groans coming from the tiny plane bathroom. When I stumble out for my 10th time in 2 hours, the flight attendant is waiting with an annoyed looking man in a stained Metallica sweatshirt.

She stops me with a wary smile. "Honey, I think we need to get you checked out. This is John, he's an EMT. He's the only medical professional on board but he agreed to take a look."

John looks hungover or maybe still drunk and his agreement had to have been reluctant but he sits down with me in an empty last row of seats and starts asking questions about my symptoms. When I tell him I haven't had a period for almost a year but the pain feels a bit like period cramps, his eyes go wide as saucers.

"Uh, ma'am, I think I'm gonna need to check your vagina. I think you might be in labor."

I've had enough. This is the second time today someone has thought I'm pregnant! I get up and brush roughly past John and start making my way back up to my seat, hopefully to sleep.

I barely make it to the middle of the plane before the worst pain yet clinches my belly and I feel an undeniable weight plop painfully into my pelvis. It drops me to my knees and I'm suddelny howling in agony, much to the horror of my fellow passengers.

I don't even have time to think before I feel a pop and fluid gushes out of my twat, soaking my panties and jumpsuit. I feel just a second of relief before the pressure is back, worse than I've ever felt, and I know with sudden horrifying clarity that the weight is that of a baby moving down my birth canal.

"There's a baby in my pussy and I need to push!"

John and the flight attendant are immediately at my side, pulling me painfully to my feet. Before I really even know what's happening I'm in the galley in the back of the plane with John unzipping my jumpsuit and peeling my soaked thong down my legs. They lay me spread eagle on the floor and he sticks his fingers up me.

I'm pretty out of it from the pain and shock but over the next ten minutes I gather I'm seven centimeters dilated, it's three hours until we land whether we turn around or keep going, and I'm probably going to have to crown a baby lying on a dirty floor underneath the drawer where they keep the diet Coke and little bottles of liquor.

I can't really focus on anything but the pain, which now includes long, searing stabs through my back as well as my front. The pressure is insane. I never imagined birth would feel like my hips are going to dislocate because the baby passing through them is so big. I hear John say things like "back labor" and "posterior" and, worryingly, "very narrow pelvis" but by that point I am in transition and shaking and puking and pleading for someone to let me die it hurts so bad.

I learned later, through a TikTok video a fellow passenger posted that got four million likes, that I crowned for thirty minutes. The guy who posted the video made a time lapse and edited my screams for help and death over it. He even got a cheeky shot of my bruised, bleeding pussy stretched around the head at the widest point.

When it finally pops out, I pray my ordeal is almost over. But, no matter how hard John pulls or I push, the shoulders are jammed tight in my opening. I spend the final half hour of the flight with a massive head hanging out of me while I drift in and out of consciousness.

I remember how bad it hurt for that head to be jostled when the plane landed and it was agony to be lifted on to the stretcher, my legs carefully held wide to accommodate the head hanging between them. I remember being horrified most of the passengers were filming me being wheeled up the aisle, legs open, screaming about the pain in my pussy every time we hit a bump.

It wasn't until hours later, my 14lb son in my arms and the good drugs masking the horror of what they had to do to me down there to finally get him all the way out, that I realized the creative folks on the internet had turned my birth from hell into a trending TikTok song.

I never really found the humor in putting me screaming "I've got a baby in my pussy and I need to push" and "Oh my God, my clitoris just ripped" to music. Especially since all I got was a kid I didn't want and a lifetime fear of both birth and flying.

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 17

It's your first Christmas without your family, but Santiago makes it up to you.

Warnings: Mega heavy on Christmas talk. Mentions of pregnancy complications from the previous chapter. Mentions of shitty in-laws. Gabrielle isn't actually in it, but she's being a bit distant but you know. It's fine. Lot's of dialogue, again. Not proofread whatsoever. Santi and Frankie have an argument we're not privvy to. Word count: 4,724 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Apologies this is late, but here is Christmas with Santi! I did mention it in a post, but I'll mention it again here: please be aware that part 18 won't be posted until 11/01 (11th January) due to a busy Christmas period. I need to catch up with myself, and I start a new job in the New Year, so I won't be to write as much as I was able to before.

Edited because Gabs isn't married to Andy, she's married to Matthew 😂 it's Courtney who is married to Andy! Now I'm going to have to double check all of my chapters to see if everyone is married to the correct person 😂

Part 16 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 18

You’d been taking it easy since your stay at the hospital a few weeks ago.

You took less responsibilities at work (your friends wanted you to cut down on your hours, but you just couldn’t do that), and you begrudgingly accepted the help of others to help you pack for your move next month. Speaking of your friends, they’d been checking in on you multiple times a week, and every time, you tell them you’re fine. Really.

The twins were fine. You were fine. Everyone was fine.

“You have a case of placenta previa.”

You look at Dr Montgomery, confused, from your place on the ultrasound table. “What’s that?”

“Your placenta is low, and covering the cervix,” she replied, looking at the screen as she pressed a few keys on the keyboard, then moving the wand over your bump. “Usually, it’s detected at your 20-week ultrasound, but it must have been missed, especially since you’re having twins.”

“Is it...is everyone okay, is it dangerous?”

“It can be risky, but we’ll keep an eye on you,” Dr Montgomery said. “The bleeding was caused by this, and stress. You’ll need to come back for another ultrasound at 32 to 33 weeks. It may have moved on its own by then, but otherwise, we may have to look at a caesarean birth at 37 weeks.”

“What? No! I wanted to go as natural as possible,” you say, your eyes widening. You had a plan! “I can’t be out of commission for 6 weeks with twins!”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted, but I strongly advise you look into it,” she replies, giving you a sympathetic look before turning off the machine. “I also recommend you take it easy if you can. I’m not saying strict bed rest, but just...relax a bit more.”

So that’s what you’ve done...you’ve relaxed. You’ve downloaded a kick counting app, something you should have done a while ago, so you could count the kicks from the babies, just in case. So far, they’d been back to normal – and by ‘normal’, you mean they were using your bladder as a soccer ball, with a shot to the kidneys every now and then.

Santi had arrived in the hospital just as Dr Montgomery had given you the okay to go home. Beth had left just after the results of your ultrasound (at your insistence), so you were packing your bag as Santi ran into your room, breathless and eyes wide. You’d looked at him with equally as wide eyes, before you hurriedly caught him up, telling him everything was okay, that you just needed to take it easy.

You introduced him to Dr Montgomery, who explained the situation a little better. It calmed Santi down a little, but you still noticed him tapping his foot as he nodded along, his hands resting on his hips as he listened intently. He kept glancing at you, as if you would collapse or suddenly disappear.

He gave you a lift home (in his truck) and insisted he stay for dinner. He cooked some food for the both of you, and you both ate on your couch, Santi wanting to know every detail to what happened. He apologised again and again for not being there, but you told him it was Thanksgiving weekend, you don’t blame him for not being there. No-one could predict what would have happened.

Dr Montgomery had booked you in for another scan a few days before Christmas. Santi insisted on going with you, which you were grateful for, of course. Unfortunately, your placenta hadn’t moved much, and you were booked in for a c-section for the end of January.

You sulked as you walked out of the hospital, pouting.

Santi gave you a small nudge, walking beside you. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

“I wanted to give birth naturally,” you mumble, as you both approach the truck.

Santi grabs your arm gently, stopping you as you stop at the bed of the truck. “I know it’s not what you wanted, and that does suck for you. I’m sorry. But Dr Montgomery said it was the safest option for you and them.”

You sighed. “I feel like it’s...it’s like I’m not...like I’ve already failed as a mother, by bringing them into the world that way.”

Santi looks at you, his eyes filled with empathy. He places a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen to me," he says, his voice soft but firm. "Having a c-section doesn't make you any less of a mother. What matters is that you and the babies are safe. That's the priority."

You lean against the truck, staring at the ground as a mix of emotions wash over you. "I just wanted everything to be perfect, you know? A beautiful, natural birth story to tell them when they're older."

Santi gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Life never goes according to plan, especially when it comes to something as unpredictable as having kids. We should know.” he grins at you, wiggling his eyebrows a little.

You give a small laugh at his quip.

He continues. “But that doesn't lessen the love you have for them or the strength it takes to do what's best for their well-being." He pauses, before giving you a reassuring smile. "You're not failing as a mom. If anything, you're making the tough decisions now because you love them so much."

You take a deep breath, absorbing his words, before nodding. “Okay.”

Santi studies you for a moment. “C’mere.” He pulls you into a comforting hug, and you melt into him, allowing the warmth of his embrace to provide a momentary escape from the overwhelming emotions of your appointment with Dr Montgomery. "We'll get through this together.”

You nod against him, just holding him a little longer than necessary before pulling away. “Thank you.”

He gives another laugh. “Don’t thank me for speaking the truth, querida.”

You wipe away at the few stray tears in your eyes before turning to him. “Come on, I gotta get home. Help me get in this junk heap.”

“Hey, don’t insult my truck,” Santi says in mock offence, before he smirks and opens the door for you, and helps you climb in.

He drives you in silence as you talk to him about work, how you’ve taken a step back and you hate it but you’re willing to do it for less stress. Harriet was a little apprehensive when you told her, that she needed you on board for this newest client, that the product was about to launch but you didn’t back down. You told her that you weren’t backing away, but just taking on less of the load. Emily and Kelsie were happy to take some of the tasks; Hell, Kelsie was practically frothing at the mouth for the opportunity to add on some more responsibility than she already had. She told you herself she wanted most of the glory since this was her first big client.

“Bit of a shitty thing for Harriet to do, guilt trip you like that.”

You shrug. “That’s just Harriet. I’ve grown used to it,” you say. “Been there long enough.”

“Since graduation, right?”

You nod. “Yup.”

“Ever thought about leaving?”

Your eyes widened as you turn to look at him. “Why would I do that? I’ve built myself up, I have a relationship and reputation with clients.”

Santi shrugged nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. “I dunno. Seems like you’re underappreciated and overworked, from what you’ve told me. Is there no other marketing firm in Florida?”

“There is - “

“Shop around,” Santi said, as if he wasn’t asking you to consider leaving the only current stability you had in your life right now. “See if anyone is hiring, for a better position or just to be treated a little better.”

“I think it’ll be the same everywhere,” you say, laughing a little.

Santi shrugged. “Just putting it out there.”

You nod. “I mean...I’ll think about it. Maybe after Christmas. Or after I’m back from maternity leave.”

It goes quiet again for a few minutes before Santi asks, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

You shrug. “I have no plans. Beth offered to have me over again, but I feel like I can’t keep intruding on their time.”

“If they’ve asked you to join them, I don’t think you’ll be intruding.”

Your family had still not contacted you. You had messaged the group chat again, accepting that there would probably be no reply still (and there wasn’t). You had another episode, alone this time, sitting on your couch late at night, stereotypically sobbing into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream as you watched Home Alone. It had been your favourite as a child, and something you had watched together with your family, after you’d put the decorations up. This year, you had no tree, no decorations, and you watched it alone.

It had been a sad night.

“You could always...” Santi said a little awkwardly, before clearing his throat. “You could always spend it with me. If you wanted. You don’t have to.”

You look at him with wide eyes, but Santi keeps his gaze on the road, an air of nervousness surrounding him. “You...want to spend Christmas with me?”

“I would have asked you to Thanksgiving but I didn’t...my sisters...”

“I wasn’t expecting you to invite me,” you said, sensing his anxiousness. “Please don’t think over on that.”

“I should have invited you - “

“Santiago,” you say, firmly, causing him to give a quick glance at you before looking back at the road, turning to your apartment’s street. “I am okay. We are okay. You were visiting your family for the first time in years. I didn’t need to be there.”

He goes silent, his jaw tensing like he wants to say something else, but he just sighs through his nose and gives a tight nod.

You reach over to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I would love to spend Christmas with you.”

“Have you spoken to Gabs recently?”

You look at Courtney with a confused look on your face as you reach for your water. “I mean, I spoke to her last week about the kids’ Christmas presents. Why?”

You and Courtney had met up for some last-minute Christmas shopping, and you stopped for some dinner before heading home. You had to admit, Gabrielle had been a little off when you spoke to her last week and you had asked if everything was okay, but she had just told you it was Christmas stress. It wasn’t so farfetched, Gabrielle hosted every year for her and Matthew’s families, so of course there was no reason to not believe her.

“Hm,” said Courtney, her brow furrowing. “She’s been a little…weird.”

You shrug. “I mean…she seemed off when I spoke to her, and I asked her about it but she said it was Christmas stress.”

Courtney shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s just…bugging me.”

“We could talk to her about it,” you say. “But you know Gabs, she’ll come to us eventually when she’s ready to let us know what’s going on.”

Courtney shook her head for a moment before giving you a look. “You’re right. You’re right! I’m just worried about her.”

“She’ll be fine,” you say. “You know what she gets like at Christmas, she’s hosting for everyone. And you know Matthew’s family.” You give Courtney a pointed look.

Courtney pulled a face. “Yeah. They’re assholes to her. But she keeps hosting!”

“Look, we tell her this every year and you know what she says – “

“’It’s only once a year’,” you both say in unison.

“Exactly,” you say. “So she’ll probably be back to normal after Christmas.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Courtney. “Let’s talk about something else. Like how you’re spending Christmas with Santiago!”

“I am,” you say, feeling your cheeks warming slightly.

“I think that’s nice,” Courtney says. “You’re like...starting your family. Getting the traditions in.”

You nod. “Yeah, I think so too. If this is something we do every year, then best start now, right?”

“You going to his place?” Courtney asked, before thanking the waitress for bringing your food over.

You nod, also thanking the waitress. “It’ll be easier since most of my stuff is packed up now. Thanks again for that, by the way.”

“No problem,” Courtney said, digging into her food. She gives you a grin. “It’s exciting, but also a little sad. It’s the end of an era, but the start of a new one.”

“In a month’s time, I’m going to be a mom,” you say, your eyes wide as if you don’t quite believe it yourself. “How weird is that?”

“Stop it,” said Courtney. “Who knew you would be the next one to have a kid?”

You snort, tucking into your own food. “I don’t think anyone thought I would have a kid, full stop.”

“No,” said Courtney, shaking her head. “I think you would have. Just in ten years.”

“Well, life didn’t work out how I’d planned,” you said, laughing. “But it’s good. Life is good.”

“And you’re happy?” Courtney asked.

Were you? Happy? You go quiet as you think. Obviously, you hadn’t planned to get pregnant, and with twins for that matter, in your tiny one-bedroom apartment, or not be speaking to your parents, or be questioning your job. But here you were, about to finish the year with a new house, amazing friends, new babies, and Santi.

Oh, Santi.

You never thought you would have met someone like Santi, even though you both weren’t together-together. You were lucky to have him; most men after one-night-stands would have left by now, but not Santi. He was sticking around, and in it for the long run. And honestly, you know he wouldn’t feel the same way about you than you felt about him, but he loved you as a friend and the mother of his kids, and you adored that he wanted to help you raise these babies together.

You slowly smile and look at Courtney. “Yeah…yeah, I’m happy.”

You pull up outside Santi’s apartment, taking a deep breath before climbing out of the car. You'd been simultaneously looking forward to Christmas with Santi, and dreading Christmas with Santi. He told you that it was his first year spending it in Florida since returning from Colombia and warned you that his Christmas dinner would probably be something he could quickly rustle up and wasn’t too much hassle - ‘very non-traditional’ was what he said. You didn’t mind; the year had been incredibly ‘non-traditional’ for you anyway.

You make your way up to his apartment, a large bag of presents in your hand. You knock, biting your lip nervously as you waited for Santi to open the door. You look up as the door opens, and you give a laugh at Santi. He was wearing an obnoxiously bright red jumper with a Santa knitted into it, and a Santa hat, and was wearing his usual jeans. He had a bottle of beer in his hand.

He holds his arms out wide as he grins at you. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say as you step inside, still laughing at his outfit.

Santi closes the door behind you before he brings you into a quick hug. “I don’t have much of an itinerary today, but Frankie and Sarah might stop by later with Sofía.”

You nod, pulling back from him. “That works out, actually, because I got something for Sofía,” you say, motioning to your bag.

Santi gives you a small, closed-lipped smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know I didn’t,” you say. “I wanted to. They’re a big part of your life, therefore, they’ll be a big part of our kids’ lives.”

Santiago doesn’t say anything as you make your way into his living room, where he had a small Christmas tree in the corner, overly decorated. You hear Santi make his way into the kitchen as you took the presents out of bag and placed them underneath, smiling as the pile grew. You look up as Santi makes his way into the living room. “Some of these from your sisters?”

He nodded, handing you a can of Diet Coke. “Yeah. I saw them last week, dropped off gifts then. I just got off the phone with them, since my nieces had just opened their Barbie dolls, with their cars, and pets, and accessories...”

You giggled, opening the can. “There’s an awful lot of girls in your family.”

He nodded, grinning. “I have a few cousins who are guys, who had a few boys. I'm not totally overruled.”

You give a small laugh as you sip at your drink. “So, do you want to do presents now? Or later? We could eat first, if you wanted.”

“The empanadas are resting in the fridge, and I have mac and cheese in the slow cooker,” said Santi, taking a gulp at his almost forgotten beer. “Got all sorts of vegetables and potatoes roasting in my oven too.”

“Sounds like a feast,” you say. You could feel your mouth watering. “Maybe we could eat soon?” you give Santi a big smile.

He chuckles at you before nodding. “I’ll put the empanadas in.”

You nod as Santi disappeared back through the kitchen. You look at the presents, and the small tree, and the fact that his living room was bare of any other decorations. Your mind wandered to the fact that this was his first Christmas since settling down, that he was in an actual home and not in a shack or seedy motel somewhere in South America. You really appreciated that he offered you his place for the day, that he’d gone out of his way – and his comfort zone – to bring you into his space again.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

You look up at him, blinking in confusion before you realise you were crying. You give a small laugh of slight embarrassment. “I didn’t realise I was crying, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, cariño,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the floor, giving you a concerned look as he rested his hand in the middle of your back. “Is there anything I can do for you? I knew today would be difficult, I don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be - “

“No, Santi, really, I'm fine,” you say, cutting him off. “I’m just hormonal. I cry at everything.”

He hesitated for a moment before asking, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, just because I asked - “

“I want to be here, Santi,” you say, reaching over and squeezing his hand that was still wrapped around a beer. “Really, I’m fine. I just...I like that I'm here, you know? I like that you want me here.”

Santi paused for a moment, looking at you before he gives a grin. “Of course, I want you here.”

You give another weak laugh. “Okay then.”

You help him in the kitchen with the food, and of course as soon as you sit down to eat, Frankie and Sarah make their way through with Sofía, profusely apologising for interrupting for not texting beforehand. Santi told them it was fine, and after a few hugs and a quick catch up between you and the Morales’, you all sit to have something to eat.

You get to know the Morales’ a little more intimately than you did on Halloween; you were in a smaller setting with fewer people, and Sarah wasn’t so distracted by the other guests. She was fun, and loud, and someone you could see getting along with for a long time. Frankie was the opposite; quiet, and observant, but you could see how much he opened up to Santi. He wasn’t rude to you at all, including you in the conversation when he could, and you could see why Santi loved him so much.

And then there was Sofía, who giggled at everything you said, and kept trying to steal the mac and cheese on your plate, even though Sarah kept adding more to her plate. You didn’t mind, but Sarah insisted she stop doing it (“It’s becoming a whole thing, we’re trying to nip it in the bud now, while we can!”). When you all finished dinner, you offered to do the dishes, but you were rebuffed when you were lead into the living room, Santi quickly clearing up the plates, saying he’d ‘deal with them later’.

Sarah plonks you down in the armchair by the tree before she hands you an envelope. “This is more for when the babies are here than right now, but it’s valid for three years.”

You look at her in confusion before you open the envelope, mouth falling open as you take a look at the expensive gift voucher. “Sarah, I can’t accept this!”

“Oh sure you can,” she says, waving you off.

You thank her profusely, before you lean down and grab a few boxes from under the tree. “I got some things for Sofía – “

“You didn’t have to do that!” cried Sarah.

“Don’t be silly, here,” you say, handing the toddler the boxes, who took more interest in the wrapping paper than the actual present.

As you and Sarah sit, you look up for Santi and Frankie, who were strangely quiet. You’re taken aback to find them stood close together, quietly arguing with one another. Frankie was pointing at Santi’s chest and saying something too quiet for you to hear, but it was filled with anger, nonetheless. Santi merely argued back.

You look away, putting a mental note in it. You’ll ask Santi about it later.

As Sofía played with the wooden doctor’s set, and the baby doll that you’d gotten along with it, you chatted to Sarah before Frankie finally made his way over. “I think we oughta go.”

Sarah nodded. “Shoot, you’re right, we promised we’d see your mom like, an hour ago.”

As they gather their things and say their goodbyes (Santi and Frankie were still tense), you and Santi were left alone. You look around and sigh, before looking back at him. “What was that about?”

“What?” Santi asked, going around the living room and collecting wrapping paper, avoiding eye contact.

“You and Frankie, what were you arguing about?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Santi, shaking his head. “Something stupid with Benny, you know how it is.”

You don’t feel like he’s telling you the truth, but you know if you pry, Santi is more likely to close up. You slowly nod at him. “Okay. Sure, yeah.”

He finally looks at you and gives you a tight smile. “Everything is okay, hermosa.”

You hesitate before nodding then glancing at the presents under the tree. “I think we should do our gifts now.”

“Okay,” Santi said, before patting you on the back as he passed you to go back into the kitchen, tossing the papers away.

You settle on the floor by the tree, and lean over and grab a few gifts, placing them by Santi as he joined you moments later. “I didn’t go overboard - “

“I don’t believe that,” Santi said from his own place under the tree before he pulled out a small box, wrapped somewhat neatly, and placing it in front of you. “Now, this doesn’t look like a lot but - “

“Stop, Santi, it’s fine,” you say. “It’s about the sentiment.”

Santi nodded, before going quiet, glancing at you at the present. You grin and nod to him. “You go first.”

He gives a small laugh before nodding at the boxes in front of him. “Any particular order?”

“Nope,” you reply.

Like a child, Santi didn’t have to be told twice. He immediately tore into the gifts, smiling widely at the new shirts you’d bought him, and a nice watch. He immediately put it on, before admiring it.

“This is nice,” he said, still admiring it.

“I know you like swimming, so it’s waterproof too,” you say. “And it tracks your exercise. Since you refuse to get an Apple Watch, I went for the next best thing.”

“Thank you, hermosa,” he says, before opening his last gift. He pauses as he looks down at the strap for a guitar.

“I know you’ve been trying to get back into it, and I know your current strap is falling apart,” you say, smiling. “I thought you could do with an upgrade. And look!” you pull the strap from the wrapping before finding the end and pointing. “I have it engraved with your initials.”

“This is…this is great, cariño. Thank you,” he said, before he stands quickly and leaves the room. He comes back a few moments later, guitar in hand as he settles back on the floor with you, practically ripping off the old strap. He puts on the new one, and why he was fiddling with it, he pushed the small box towards you. “Like I said, it’s not a lot…”

“Santi, please,” you say as you open the gift. You pause at the sight of the Tiffany box, glancing up at Santi who was now looking at your nervously.

You open the Tiffany box, to find a silver chain-link bracelet, with a charm of a Christmas tree hanging off it. You gingerly take it out the box, looking at it more closely.

“I have more charms, but I can’t give them to you yet,” he said. “I got the tree because it’s…it’s our first Christmas together.”

Oh my God, you might burst into tears.

No, actually, you’re already crying.

“Santiago,” you say, in a high-pitched cry, looking at the bracelet, at the delicate green charm of the Christmas tree.

“Oh, no,” he said, scootching over to you and bringing you into his arms, where you sobbed into shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you don’t like it – “

“Don’t like it!?” you cry, pushing away from him, looking between him and the bracelet. “I love it. Put it on me!” you shove it at him before presenting your wrist to him.

Santi chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief, carefully fastening the bracelet around your wrist before he gave a soft kiss to the warmth of your skin. Your heartbeat loudly in your ears as Santi gave your wrist a squeeze and he looked at you with a warm smile on his face. You look at the bracelet, the charm sitting pretty. You smiled widely at it, tears still falling down your cheeks.

“Please, stop crying,” laughed Santi, reaching up to wipe your years away.

“I can’t,” you say, laughing back as you look at him. “I’m pregnant, and hormonal, and you got me a really nice, sappy gift. I love it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He goes quiet for a moment before he swallows nervously. “I…”

You look at him as he goes quiet. “Yeah?”

The two of you just staring at each other. Eyes locked onto his, you search for the words that seem to linger unspoken on his lips. There's a certain vulnerability in his silence, a hesitance that hangs in the air like the delicate balance before a confession.

"What is it?" you prompt again gently, your heart quickening in anticipation.

His eyes flicker nervously, and you can almost sense the internal struggle within him. It's as if he's wavering on the edge of an abyss, grappling with emotions that have finally found their way to the surface. Could he…could he be trying to say what you think he…

He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in tandem with the weight of his unspoken words. You can feel the gravity of the moment, the tension building between you two, as if the universe itself is holding its breath in anticipation of what he's about to say.

“The next charm you’ll get is in a few weeks, at the baby shower,” Santi finally said, after a long pause.

Oh. That wasn’t what you expected at all. You were –

Wait.

You pause, your brow furrowing as you look at him, tears finally stilling. “The what?”

Santi freezes, his face falling as he looks at you. “Oh, shit.”

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @bluenredndeath, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[nattaphum]

MILE PHAKPHUM BEHIND THE SCENES OF HIS SUCCESS WITH BOF 500 IN AN EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW WITH ELLE MEN.

KANOKPORN C.

NOVEMBER 3, 2023

UPDATE US ON YOUR LIFE, YOUR WORK AND YOUR INTERESTS.

Mile: Now i’m an actor of Be On Cloud. As for what i’m interested in now, I would like to have more time for music. In the past, fans may have seen me playing some music and making some songs. I stopped doing it 5-6 years ago, so I would like to revive that because music is what i love the most. Music is charming. Music is a friend. When we’re happy, it can stay with us, when we are suffering, it can stay with us. But most importantly, music allows us to capture various moments. This is the coolness of music. Let’s suppose we listen to something. And we may think of someone, think of some moments of life, it's nostalgia. Some people or some moments can be recorded through music so each person has different memories.

TELL US THE ATMOSPHERE AND IMPRESSION OF GOING TO THE BOF AWARD CEREMONY.

Mile: the atmosphere is that everything was fast. And we didn’t stay very long, just 3 hours. At first, I was excited before going but I didn’t create a picture in my head. I like to do this, i like to challenge myself to face whatever is presented in front of me. I didn’t create a picture in my head and that’s a technique to manage the excitement. We went there to enjoy ourselves. That night was a very fun night. Some people may plan to do 1 2 3 4 but that day I didn't think of anything. When I arrived to the event, i just let myself go. It was fun. And then I met people I didn't expect to meet and i liked them very much.

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE THE FIRST TWO THAI ACTORS ON THE BOF 500 CLASS OF 2023 LIST?

Mile: I was glad to know I made it into BoF. When we knew the details and found out that it was for both of us, we really felt that our work or the way I and Apo present ourselves was understood. The important thing is that our team 'Be On Cloud' has grown to the world. It feels that we’re growing step by step. To be honest, I appreciate being 1 in 500 of BoF, but i will not be excited nor i will be bragging about this because i know that way ahead, there is still room for improvement. But thanks to everyone.

WHAT DID GETTING TO DO A WORLD TOUR GIVE YOU? AND WHICH TOUR IS THE MOST IMPRESSIVE?

Mile: it gives you that type of experience that money could never buy. It’s experience in the fashion like we said earlier, or the world tour going to play concerts. Going to the World Tour, we were able to see the energy of all the fans. Each person is not the same. Touring allows us to meet groups of fans from many countries. Sometimes we had some technique problems. We were impressed because it made us realize that errors can happen all the time, even if it is a very big stage with a strong team behind.

IF YOU HAVE TO BUY A WATCH,HOW DO YOU CHOOSE IT?

Mile: First of all, it has to be “love at first sight' inside of me. It doesn't matter what type of watch but I have to love it, there must be a certain bond. I choose watches using my feelings. It looks a bit like i’m flirting with the watches (smiles). Secondly, it has to be a rare watch. Rare, the word 'rare' is my weakness. Some watches I liked a lot, that were not rare, I didn’t buy them.

HOW DO YOU MANAGE YOURSELF WHEN EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS MESSY OR SOMETHING IS NOT AS YOU LIKE?

Mile: Seriously, I will treat my emotions by, playing music, exercising, or doing anything that feels comfortable. I’ll do anything that distracts me from the reason why i’m suffering. I’ll change the interest, change the atmosphere, i’ll take myself out of there and for a while, i will have an overlap of ideas. And then i’ll finally deal with the idea that it’s bothering me. I retreat myself of one step to look at the problem in a second moment.

AT WHAT AGE DO YOU LIKE YOURSELF THE MOST? 10, 20 OR NOW THAT YOU’RE STARTING TAPPING THE NUMBER 3?

Mile: I think the number 2 is the period that I have tried everything i wanted to do. The number 2 is a period that i like. But it's a period where i learned a lot. Actually, i didn’t need to be responsible for things or the results that came from my decisions. If anything that you do, does not affect anyone, you can try it all. So you don’t have to be very careful. But i’m not sure… I may answer the number 3 but I just entered the number 3 and i’m gonna be here for a long time.

THINKING OF THE FUTURE, WHAT DO YOU WANT TO INVEST IN, TO MAKE YOUR OWN VALUE?

Mile: First of all is knowledge. But if it is an investment related to myself, I want to invest in real estate. I think the property has the highest potential.

NOW THE SPOTLIGHT SHINES BRIGHTLY ON YOU. HOW DO YOU PREPARE FOR THE DAY THE LIGHT WILL NOT SHINE ON YOU ANYMORE?

Mile: It's good to change the atmosphere (smiles). It’s what I learned when I had a lot of problems. It was in my 20s. At that time, i have experimented a lot. Because there were a lot of problems, both that i created myself and not. It made me learn one thing, which is important. Life is uncertain. Therefore, if we do anything, one day it will change. It’s the nature of this world. We must be born and get extinguished. When we understand this concept, when things get worse, we can manage ourselves.

EXPRESS THE FEELING OF WORKING WITH FRANCK MULLER AND ELLE MEN

Mile: I'm very happy. I like the watches very much. And I feel that shooting for a watch is something that i wanted to do for a long time. As for Franck Muller, I already knew the brand and i was interested. Because their watches have a unique character. The more I see this collection, the more i think it is very outstanding.

WHY DO FANS LOVE YOU SO MUCH?

Mile: I think because I'm not far from being myself. It's impossible for us to be ourselves 100%, no matter what industry we are in. But we should be honest with what we feel as much as possible. Both behind the screen and on the screen. And I think I am a person who understands people and that includes understanding myself.

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO SAY TO THE FANS BEFORE LEAVING?

Mile: I want to thank them again. Because I'm not sure if every time i say thank you, everyone receives that message. Because fans are not just in Thailand, not just in Asia. There is South America. There is a lot of Central Asia, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan. Because the popularity of Asia has expanded a lot. Therefore, what i mean is fans around the world. So I want to thank anyone who came to read this. Fans treated us well from the first day until today. 99% cute as before. Thank you to everyone. They’re part of our happiness. We are happy and happy to be part of their happiness.

[nothorses]

i regularly help my mom with door dash and i see this all the time. sometimes we get an order that's, say, $6 going down the road and we think "oh that's really good!" and we assume that would be like, a $2-$3 tip, right?

no.

often when someones food hasn't been picked up in a long time, door dash will raise the base pay drivers are given to entice people to take it. we've taken entire family dinners to people for 0 tip because of this and it pisses us off every time... my entire family is disabled and other than our social security this is our main income.

if you can't afford to pay someone for their labor, you can't afford the fucking food! go eat somewhere else!

Also, like, doordash calculates the cost based on the price of the meal rather than the distance driven; your one-person Wendy's meal that takes me 20 minutes to get to you (between the drive-through line, the drive itself, finding your place, and the handoff) still only pays me, like, $2.50.

Your tip might be another $1.50 on that, and that's $4 for a half hour of my time; then I have to wait and possibly drive a ways back into the dash zone just to get another job, and by the time I'm on my way to the next job, I might have made $4 for, at minimum, 30 minutes of labor. If you short me the tip on that as well, I made $2.50. If that happens to me again, I make $5 for the whole hour.

Bear in mind that the hours you're most likely to make any money during the day amount to like, 2 hours in the afternoon and another 4 in the evening.

And like you said, drivers don't see the tip until after they deliver the order, at the soonest. You can finish a whole order thinking you're getting paid fairly, only to find out afterward that the customer fucked you over.

The zone I started working in also had the only Safeway in the area, and the Safeway contracted us for deliveries; customers didn't have access to the Doordash site/app, and literally could not tip us except in cash when we showed up (which I only ever had happen once).

Safeway doesn't tip.

At one point I drove 20 minutes from the Safeway to the customer, and that's after waiting in line for 15 minutes to pick the order up, and before another 20 minute drive back into the delivery zone to get my next order, plus the handoff. About an hour of labor. The Safeway order paid me $7.

That's less than half of minimum wage in this area.

Drivers in that zone tell each other not to take Safeway orders because they don't tip, and they're never worth the pay. The catch is that every time you turn an order down, your % of orders accepted lowers; if it drops under 70%, you receive less orders for less pay.

So even if you do turn down an order that you know isn't going to pay well, you're punished by the app, and given fewer opportunities to make money, period. You are pressured to work for less, and to gamble on shit orders in the vain hope of a decent tip to compensate.

Servers rely on your tips. They do not have an option. This isn't a hypothetical; you are causing direct harm. Yes, Doordash needs to fucking do better, and it's not your fault they're set up like that. But your asshole choices have an impact on us because of that, and knowing that, you can choose not to cause harm.

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 21)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 7,356

Summary: After arriving in Manizales, Horacio introduces Javier to his family, leading to a long overdue heart-to-heart and a drinking game with a twist.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Discussions of coming out, grief, parental loss, canon-typical violence, allusions to period-typical prejudices, drinking game, smoking, swearing.

Notes: Firstly, I will soften the blow of leaving it so long since my last update with the news that chapter 22 will be posted within the next week or so! I decided to split it in half to give more space to the conversations between the characters. So, hopefully that will make up for my elongated silence lol.

Secondly, I finished drafting the rest of the fic at the end of last year 👀 So, I just need to complete editing on chapter 23 and the epilogue. Then, and I can't believe I'm actually saying this, it will be time to leave these two messy idiots to it.

I think it will take me some time to get my head around it coming to an end, not least of all because it's been almost 3 years since I started working on this behemoth. And I can't believe how much has happened/changed since then, yet my love for this ship and this story has stayed strong and close to my heart. So, a bit of a premature thank you to anyone who has supported it at any point since March 2021, it's been quite the emotional rollercoaster ❤️ As always, I love hearing from my readers, so feel free to drop me a comment/message!

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 21: For Old Times' Sake

A haze of mist hung low on the horizon, clinging to the rolling waves of verdant peaks that bled seamlessly together with worn asphalt until it was impossible to tell where the sky began and the earth ended.

Luckily, the tyres of the hire car were built for rougher terrain, and it wasn’t the first time Horacio had driven this route. Admittedly, it would have been easier to fly. But this had the added benefit of giving Javier a taste of undiscovered territory.

If truth be told, it gifted them more time to mentally prepare for what was getting closer with every hour that passed, each stop off to admire the view and refresh a stubborn way to prolong the status quo.

Progress had been slow for the last hour as the congested traffic crawled along the sharp angles of the road with its treacherous drops only a few inches away. They had come to a standstill behind a bus that allowed passengers off to take photos, and with little room to manoeuvre around the vehicle, a trail of cars had no choice but to wait.

Javier lounged back in the passenger seat, one foot resting on the opposite knee, his elbow leaning on the door, and the window half open.

He watched Horacio’s hands on the steering wheel alternate between clenching and tapping, a particular kind of rigidity returning to his jaw for the first time in months – if not years.

Javier made an executive decision by reaching into the glove box. He pulled out an emergency pack of cigarettes and a lighter they had stashed away before setting off from Medellín.

He lifted one out of the pack and sparked up. “So, did you say it’s a farm we’re heading to?” There was no point asking the obvious, so distraction it was.

“A coffee farm on the outskirts of the city, yeah. It belongs to Fabián’s family. He and his brother, Santiago, do the bulk of the work now their father’s winding down.”

“Sounds nice. And kinda familiar.”

Horacio’s eyes finally left the windshield and met Javier’s with a shadow of a smile. “Yeah, it does. A lot hillier than Texas, though.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be hard.” Javier held out his smoke across the car, their first one that wasn’t post-coital in a long time. But needs must.

Horacio apparently agreed as he accepted it with a huff of resignation. “Fine, one for the road.”

“I think it’s allowed on roads like this one.”

“I did warn you.”

“Hey, no, I like it. Keeps you on your toes.”

“It reminds me of when Papá drove us to visit Tia Salomé and Tio Jairo in Bogotá. He and Mamá let us have sweets for the long journey but warned us the Mareco would take them away if we didn’t behave.”

“The Mareco?”

“La Leyenda del Mareco. It was a story we were told as kids. The Mareco’s a red devil that looks like a lizard on two legs. He steals children’s candy and conjures up a whirlwind to blow them away if they don’t obey their parents.”

Javier nodded in recognition as Horacio passed their cigarette back. “La Llorona was the story used to scare me and my cousins.”

“Oh yeah, we got that one as well.”

“I gotta say, the Mareco explains a lot.”

“About what?”

“About how you developed a problem with authority.”

“What’s your excuse then?”

“What can I say? I was led astray.”

It was a blatant lie, but Javier didn’t care when it caused laughter lines to materialise in the corner of Horacio’s eyes.

“We both know you were drawn to it as much as you resented it.”

“Only where you were concerned. Anyway, you were just as bad even though you'd never admit it.”

“Maybe you were my exception too.”

A moment of silence fell as memory after memory collided, snapshots of how the push and pull between them had evolved with their relationship.

"Listen, I was thinking,” Javier started before taking a drag, “would it make things easier if you wore this? Just while we’re here, I mean.”

Horacio’s gaze drifted to Javier’s exposed skin, the taillights of the car in front catching on the crucifix at his chest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s yours now.”

By the time their cigarette was finished, the traffic edged forward, and the road ahead and Javier’s hand on Horacio’s leg soon replaced conversation.

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

Two and a half hours and several bursts of heavy rain later, the muddied hire car pulled up by a complex of buildings nestled amongst a sea of lush green and vibrant flowers. The buildings sat atop steep slopes of vegetation that led to the coffee plantations below, the foggy skyline above etched with rugged ridges and the ominous outline of Nevado del Ruiz in the distance.

Any sounds from life on a working coffee farm were drowned out by birdsong and their feet crunching beneath them as Horacio and Javier walked up the gravel path towards the main finca. It was typical in its style with a rustic tiled roof, whitewashed bricks and wooden pillars around its perimeter painted in the same shade of terracotta red as the doors and window frames. At the back of the property was a large garden with a patio area, pool and a spectacular view for miles on a clear day.

As they lugged their suitcases onto the porch, Alejandra waited to greet them at the front door. Her dark hair was styled in a bob with waves bordering on curls, the kind Javier imagined Horacio could grow if he wasn’t so insistent on keeping his hair short. At least since leaving the CNP, he had been less strict about cutting it.

The family resemblance between the two siblings was evident in their facial features, particularly in the shape of their noses, charcoal eyes and Cupid’s bows. But Alejandra was a few inches shorter, and her frame was slimmer on account of not carrying the same muscle as Horacio.

“The wanderer finally returns,” Alejandra announced as she pulled Horacio in for a long hug, neither of them keen to be the first to let go. “At least you remembered how to use the phone before turning up on my doorstep.”

“Of course. It's good to see you. But I am sorry I left it so long. There’s, erm…a lot to catch up on.”

“I’ll say.” She peered curiously behind Horacio. “But first, let me say hello to this handsome new face.”

She all but pushed Horacio to one side, forgoing any formal introductions he might have had planned. All Horacio could do was stand and watch two parts of his life converge that, for a long time, he believed would never – and could never – meet.

Javier had hung back by several feet, his hands self-consciously stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he kept his eyes on the ground until he was spoken to.

“Hi there, I’m Alejandra. You must be Javier?”

“Oh, er, yeah, hi.” For reasons unbeknownst to Javier, he raised his hand in a stiff wave rather than the relaxed handshake he had planned and felt the heat instantly rise in his cheeks. “Pleasure to finally meet you. Beautiful place you’ve got up here.”

“Likewise. And thanks.” Much to Javier's relief, she took the lead and held out a hand for him to shake with a reassuring smile. “Although you’ve got Fabián to thank for that. He’s down there giving a tour to one of our new buyers.” Alejandra turned back to face Horacio. “Mamá’s shopping for school supplies and tonight’s dessert with Juan José, Sofía and Mateo. Ana María’s out with friends. But they should all be back in the next few hours.”

Horacio nodded but remained taciturn, keeping to himself his strong suspicions that Alejandra had made sure she was the only one to greet them upon arrival.

“Come on, you can show Javier around whilst I make us something to eat and drink.”

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

It had been a long time since Horacio’s last visit, but he could just about remember the layout of the place. He took Javier through the downstairs rooms, moving from the hall to the living areas and then the kitchen, which appeared tidier now than in his dreams.

The décor was all tiled or wooden floors and earthy tones, contrasting against large airy windows that made the landscape outside seem like a part of the finca. Evidence of three generations and two cats was scattered everywhere in the form of toys, games, videos, tapes, books, various coffee products and photographs from over the years. In one corner stood a home altar containing a large crucifix, prayer cards, rosary beads, candles, and a statue of Virgen de Chiquinquirá. In the opposite corner was a shelf full of old vinyl with Lucho Bermúdez taking pride of place, naturally.

Upstairs housed six bedrooms and three bathrooms, on account of the brood of four children, three adults and a spare room. The spare room was their last stop, where they dumped their luggage, sharing an amused glance at the double bed with a smaller fold-out one laid out in the corner with a pile of fresh sheets.

“As your guest, I take it I get the bigger one?” Javier asked with a spark of mischief in his eye.

“Well, technically, I’m also a guest here. And I did do all the driving.”

“Maybe I’ll, er, flip you for it later.”

Horacio merely raised a brow at the suggestion in Javier’s tone before they headed back downstairs.

They sat under cover of the terrace in the wildly growing garden, just in case the rain returned, which was always a distinct possibility in Manizales. An impressive platter of fruits was laid out on the table alongside freshly made coffee.

“So, how was the wedding?” Alejandra asked as she poured from a pot into three cups, the dark, rich aroma diffusing into the same crisp air the beans were grown and harvested.

Horacio accepted a cup with a thanks and passed the other to Javier. “It was nice. Good to see everyone again.”

“How’s Trujillo doing? It’s been strange seeing his face all over the news.”

Rather than his, Horacio thought with a strange lurch to the gut he wasn’t expecting. “He’s doing well; he’s a Major now. He deserves some happiness after everything.”

“He’s not the only one.”

Alejandra gave Horacio a pointed look, one he wasn’t ready to entirely meet, so he reached for a slice of guayaba instead.

“And Javier...I take it this is your first visit to Manizales?” she continued, offering him the fruit tray.

“Thanks. And yeah, it is. Never got the time to explore much beyond Bogotá and Medellín.” That wasn't exactly true, but Javier didn’t think talk of Cartagena or Tolú would be welcome right now.

“Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

Horacio could feel another look directed his way but pretended not to notice it and sipped on his coffee.

Once they had eaten their weight in fruit, Alejandra had some business calls to make, leaving Javier and Horacio to unpack and freshen up before reconvening to make a start on dinner.

Of course, it had to be sudado de pollo. Horacio and Alejandra worked as a team, issuing sporadic instructions to Javier when necessary. But he was happy listening to them catch up and reminisce.

“That smells amazing already,” Javier said as he finely chopped onions across a wooden board, gesturing to the dishful of chicken thighs that Alejandra had just finished marinating.

“Mamá’s secret blend,” she replied as she set the dish aside to move on to dicing several tomatoes.

“Oh yeah? What would I have to do to get the recipe for that?” Javier reflexively caught Horacio’s eye across the kitchen.

“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.” Horacio shot Javier a warning look that indicated he was only half joking before focusing intently on cutting up a large batch of yuca and potatoes.

“Yeah, not even Fabián knows.”

“Papá never knew either. But he was happy for us or Mamá to make it for him.”

“My Mamá was the same with her Abuela’s morisqueta. Although, not long before she passed, she left me and my Pops the recipe.”

Alejandra paused her knife to look up at Javier, the surprise on her face soon transforming into recognition and sympathy. “I bet it’s delicious. You should make it for us some time.”

Now it was Horacio’s turn to stop, his eyes travelling from Alejandra to Javier and back again as the implication of his sister’s words hung as heavy in the kitchen as the aromatic spices of her marinade.

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

Once the chicken and vegetables were all prepped and placed in a pot on the stove, the front door opened and closed, a loud chatter of voices soon filling the hallway.

Before Javier knew what was happening, he was being introduced to the children, shaking hands with Fabián, then kissing Elena’s cheek.

“Welcome, Javier. It’s good to put a face to a name at last,” Elena said, thoroughly taking in his appearance, apparently satisfied with what she saw.

At last. Javier wasn’t sure whether those words put him at ease or made him more nervous, but he managed to push such thoughts behind a smile. “Nice to meet you, and likewise.”

Javier had briefly seen pictures of Horacio’s family in the past. But he, too, spent time studying Elena now that he was close enough to smell the floral notes of her perfume. Neat oval glasses and a mix of dark and light grey hair cut short and choppy framed her sharp features, the shape of her nose and Cupid’s Bow matching those of her children.

“No thanks to this one here, mind you.” Despite her chastisement, Elena embraced her son tightly, reluctant to let go. “I think he’s been hiding from us.”

“You know it wasn’t like that, Mamá.” Although, over his Mamá’s head, Horacio gave Javier a sheepish look that said otherwise. “It is good to see you. And I’m sorry I left it so long.”

Upon greeting his nieces and nephews, Horacio was struck by how much they had all grown up since his last visit. Ana María was the spitting image of her mother. Juan José was several inches taller than Horacio and resembled his father more than ever. And Mateo and Sofía had presumably become resentful of all the matching outfits in their younger years of being twins, going out of their way to dress as differently from each other as possible. Once they had said their obligatory hellos, they scattered around the house and no doubt wouldn’t re-appear until dinner was ready.

Right on cue, when Alejandra brought out steaming and brimming plates full of sudado de pollo, everyone rapidly took their places around the table.

Silence fell as they tucked in, the warmth and comfort of childhood cocooning Horacio from what he knew was inevitable. A welcomed interruption from his thoughts came with a soft brush against his leg, his instincts telling him it was one of the cats issuing their own greeting. But he should have known better.

As they ate and endured the usual family small talk, Javier's foot became Horacio's anchor, subtle and soothing rubs against his ankle unseen under the table. Steady, grounding, home. 

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

Horacio carried the last few empty plates to the kitchen, where piles of dishes were already stacked high. He had left Javier with Juan José and Mateo, who were showing off the latest video games they had got for Christmas – and were comfortably beating Javier at them, too.

“I’ll wash; you dry. For old times’ sake,” Alejandra said without looking up from the sink where she was filling the basin with water and suds.

“Okay. On the condition we both tidy everything away afterwards.”

“Deal. You’ll just put it in the wrong place unsupervised anyway.”

Horacio swatted the tea towel he’d picked up in her direction, only for her to retaliate by flicking bubbles in his hair.

“We did okay with dinner, didn’t we? I haven’t made that in a long time,” Horacio said.

“You had a good teacher.”

“So did you.”

“Oh, I know. I think that’s why Papá always loved it. We were all in there somewhere.”

“Like our Christmas tamales.”

“Oh, yeah, he couldn’t get enough of those. Remember we always had to make an extra batch for him to take to work?”

“He said they were to share with his unit, but I’m not sure many made it that far.”

Now they were laughing as they worked in tandem, Alejandra changing the water as Horacio cleared the draining board, ready for the next load.

“Did you ever feel like you let him down?” Horacio asked after a long silence, both siblings seemingly waiting for the other to fill it.

“Of course. You know Papá didn’t approve of Fabián at first, right?”

“What?”

“You must’ve heard the arguments?”

“To be fair, there were plenty of arguments between you and Papá.”

“Yeah, and they were mostly about me daring to marry someone other than a cop.”

“That’s what it was about?”

“Mostly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Fabián; I just think he had suitors picked out for me. People he knew he could trust.”

“But they got along in the end, didn’t they?”

“Once Papá had got over himself, yeah.” Alejandra let out a nostalgic laugh, which Horacio quickly joined in with. “He could be tough when he wanted to be, but…he meant well,” she settled on. “Once he saw how happy I was and how Fabián had taken after his father with the farm, he came around. It was never personal with Papá. It’s just the way he was.”

“So, you don’t think he’d be disappointed in me…” Horacio paused to swallow, his throat drier than a Texan summer. “For quitting?” he got out eventually.

Alejandra gave Horacio a look he’d seen countless times over the years. One only a big sister could give her little brother when she had to feign ignorance of something she had already discovered for herself. The perks of being the eldest.

“How did you know?”

“Horacio, are you really asking that of someone who has been surrounded by cops all her life?”

Horacio rolled his eyes but let Alejandra have that one unchallenged.

“I thought you might have been discharged on medical grounds, to be honest. I hoped you’d seen sense. Or maybe met someone.”

“I wasn’t discharged, but I negotiated a payout after my injury.”

Alejandra released a self-satisfied hum, a whisp of a smile threatening to break free from the corners of her mouth. “Two out of three’s not bad, I suppose.”

Horacio gulped hard enough for Alejandra to hear; he had no doubt about that. But no words followed, not even when he caught her eye.

“You love him, don’t you?” It wasn’t an accusation or an interrogation. In fact, it was barely even a question.

“Yes.” It caught Horacio off guard how fast he answered. How direct and concise he’d been.

“And he loves you.” There was no pretence of a question mark now, but rather a clarification of a well-established fact. A rite of passage both parties needed to hear.

“He does.”

“Enough to walk away from it all, too.”

Horacio nodded, scared the lump in his throat would give way to something else as his glassy gaze met Alejandra’s.

“His father – Chucho – owns a ranch in Laredo, Texas. That’s where I went after…” he trailed off, not wishing to dwell on the finer details of the ambush. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I hated lying after everything we’ve been through. But I figured the less you and Mamá knew, the safer it was.”

“I had a feeling you’d left Colombia. But Texas?” Alejandra blew out a low whistle. “That’s the part we’ll need to prepare Mamá for.”

“They’re Mexican-American. And the ranch is right on the border by the river.”

“I’d lead with that part if I were you. Not sure you can avoid a lecture about fraternising with Spanish colonisers, though. Twice.”

“I got that the first time I moved over there. But she went quiet when I reminded her Madrid was good enough for Simón Bolívar.”

Alejandra’s shoulders shook in unison with Horacio’s until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“So, you were there a whole year?”

“Just over. I couldn’t do much to help for the first few months – whilst this healed.” Horacio flexed his right arm to prove to Alejandra that everything was back in working order. “But it was good to have a routine eventually.”

“Wait a minute…you worked on the ranch?”

“No need to sound so surprised when you live here. I was actually pretty good at it. And I liked it.” Although Horacio understood and returned his sister’s bemusement because even he had shocked himself.

“No, I’m not. It’s just…oh, Horacio...” Alejandra broke off to bring her hand to his cheek, her brow creased, but her eyes caught between being on the brink of a smile and tears. “Look at you.”

Horacio made a show of wiping away the suds from his cheekbone, hoping he wouldn’t still have an audience afterwards. But no such luck. “It’s not what I expected to happen – any of it. But it just....felt right. I know that probably doesn’t make sense.”

“Actually, it makes perfect sense.”

“Does it?”

“Well, for starters, I can see the appeal. Obviously. Can’t blame you for going for a younger man, either. And taller.”

Horacio rolled his eyes and hoped his face didn’t look as hot as it felt. “Not by that much. On either count.”

“Hey, no judgment from me. But seriously, of course, it makes sense. I know we all used to joke about you being married to your job, but…after Juliana, I did wonder if there was more to it than that.”

“I think burying myself in work killed two birds with one stone.”

“It was killing you.”

“I know.”

“And Papá would have told you the same.”

A hollow laugh escaped Horacio’s throat, Martínez’s words from the wedding still ringing intrusively in his ears. “I’d have been kicked out of the force. He’d have made sure of that. And I wouldn’t have blamed him.”

“Right, because you were the first officer on Colombian soil to commit violence or be used as a political weapon.”

“He was against it, Alejandra. La Violencia was enough for anyone to see in a lifetime.”

But that was just another in a long line of civil wars. Even if his father's life hadn’t been cut short, he would have seen yet another bloody outbreak in which the state did more to perpetuate the death toll than bring peace to the country. And Horacio had plenty of blood on his hands. At least his Papá was spared witnessing that.

“And you don’t think he was ever put in a compromising position back then? You don’t think La Violencia was why he didn’t want the same for you? You won’t remember much, and Mamá and Papá never spoke about it around us, but I got pretty good at listening through doors.”

“He never did talk about it. Even when I was older.”

Not that he really needed to, Horacio conceded. Even though they were kept relatively safe and away from the violence in Medellín compared to other regions of Antioquia – particularly the rural parts – he had heard enough over the years to fill in the blanks.

He remembered his Mamá’s stories of helping the displaced, those who sought refuge in the city. Thousands who had been forced to flee the violence and start over again, often in makeshift housing on the outskirts, the irony never lost on Horacio that one of those neighbourhoods became Comuna 13. But for all his Mamá’s tales and the work she continued to do until she left for Manizales, his Papá never spoke about those years.

“He was protecting you. Like Mamá was with us after he died. Sometimes silence is easier.”

“I know. I get it. Before he died, the cocaine trade hadn’t got going in Colombia yet. It was mostly marijuana. But with FARC around and the gringos spreading their anti-communist propaganda, he knew it was a question of when, not if, another war was coming. I think he hoped things would be different this time.”

“You did what you had to do, Horacio. Just like he did. Just like every generation of our family did to survive. What’s done is done.”

“I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew everything.”

“You think I never heard any of the rumours out here? Or picked up a newspaper once in a while?”

“You never said anything.”

Alejandra shot Horacio a cutting glare, the kind he was an expert at delivering, but only a select few could get away with throwing back at him. “I knew you wouldn’t talk about it even if I asked.”

Horacio scoffed. Touché. “Not all of it was true.”

It was Alejandra’s turn to laugh. “Well, I kinda figured you weren’t dead after you called.”

“I don’t just mean the ambush.”

“I know,” she said briskly.

But Horacio couldn’t ignore the relief in her body language. Even though he understood it, a wave of shame hit him for even planting a seed of doubt in her – his older sister, the mother of his nieces and nephews – mind in the first place.

“But that’s all in the past now,” he concluded, shutting down his own train of destructive thought. “And you’re right; Papá’s not here. But Javier is.”

“So your future’s in Laredo, then.”

“Are you mad?”

“Am I mad that my little brother is finally getting his shit together and is head over heels in love? Oh, yeah, I’m livid.”

An inferno had spread across Horacio’s cheeks, and he struggled to think of a response. But luckily for him, Alejandra wasn’t done yet.

“It’s…safe, though, right? For you both to live together?”

“As safe as anywhere else. Every country has its problems. I’m sure there’ll always be people with something to say. But we’ve been careful.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep being careful.”

“We will, I promise.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll convince Mamá to visit in the summer, though.”

“That’s fair. But you do think she’ll want to visit?”

“She might be strong, but we know what she lost – what we all lost. So, if there’s a chance for you to share your life with someone as she did with Papá, to be safe – to be happy after everything – yeah, I think she'll want to visit.”

“Do you think Papá would if he could?” Horacio knew it was a loaded grenade of a question and unfair to ask. But he couldn’t help himself.

Alejandra hesitated, seemingly aware she was between a rock and a hard place. “Maybe in his old age. Or if he knew Javier saved your life.”

“How did –?”

She expelled a comedically dramatic sigh. “Keep up, manito. When you called, you told me the DEA came after you that night. I don’t need to hold a badge to guess who that was.”

Horacio was banged to rights once more as he tried to recall the exact information he had relayed to Alejandra in the hours after the ambush; evidently, it was more than he thought.

“He – and his partner, Steve – went against orders and got suspended for helping me and my men.”

“So, they took a leaf out of your book then?”

“Something like that.”

Before Horacio could overthink it, he took a deep breath and told Alejandra everything. From the blackmail to his and Javier’s resignations to their year in Madrid, it all came tumbling out whilst she kept washing and he kept drying. Just like old times. Just like their Papá was in the next room along with their Mamá. And in so many ways, he always would be, not as a ghost of their past, but forever a part of their present and future.

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

Arriving during the week had its advantages, as it wasn’t necessary for Horacio to make excuses to get an early night. Work and school beckoned in the morning for most of the household, so the evening had ended in a low-key fashion.

That was more than fine by Horacio after a long drive and an overdue heart-to-heart. He lay on his side, his back nestled into Javier’s chest in the centre of the spare room’s double bed. They made up the fold-out bed for pretences, but it was purely extra space to store their luggage.

A bedside lamp and hints of moonlight peaking around the edges of the curtains cast the room in soft shadows, the low murmur of a telenovela in one of the nearby bedrooms the only sound to be heard at this hour.

“How old were you there?” Javier asked, his voice muffled against Horacio’s shoulder where he’d temporarily paused his trail of kisses after picking out one of several framed photos on the wall.

“The one from Alejandra’s wedding? I’d have been 24.”

“Cute curls.” Javier’s nose nuzzled against the back of Horacio’s head, which was sadly lacking the same unruliness as in the photo.

“Fuck you.”

Javier sniggered. “Hey, I was being serious! They suit you. Plus…more to grab hold of.” He slid a hand into Horacio’s hair as his mouth resumed its work along bare skin.

Horacio’s back arched with a sigh as he leaned into Javier’s touch. “You know we can’t get carried away. Not here.”

“I know.” Of course, Javier understood. It was one thing for him to have sneaked in and out of the guesthouse back in Laredo; it was quite another to be under the same roof as Horacio’s whole family. But that didn’t stop the almost petulant tone in Javier’s voice. He was still human, after all.

“I promise we’ll make up for it once we leave.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Despite their flirtation, exhaustion was thick in their throats and pressed heavily on their limbs, pushing them closer towards sleep as the butterflies in their stomachs finally settled.

“The wedding wasn’t that long after Papá died. Alejandra asked me to give her away instead. At first, I didn’t think I deserved to take Papá’s place. But I think she needed me there with her, so, I said yes.”

“Of course you did, and I bet she never forgot that.”

“No, and I’ll never forget tonight."

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It was still dark in the spare room when Javier stirred and untangled himself from Horacio as slowly as possible. He had woken up thirsty and threw on a precautionary pair of jeans before tiptoeing down the wooden staircase towards the kitchen.

The clock on the oven read 01:30am, so he wasn't expecting to find the spotlights above it switched on. He searched through the cupboards until he found a tumbler and filled it with water from the tap, taking large gulps until the glass was drained.

“So, you’re a night owl too, then?”

“Shit!” Javier hissed, spinning around with a sharp intake of breath, almost dropping the glass on the tiled floor.

“Sorry,” Alejandra whispered. “I was just reading before heading off to bed.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I just needed some water. Didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Javier was suddenly very aware of the fact he was standing half naked in the middle of the kitchen, Horacio’s necklace like a flashing beacon at his chest. “Obviously,” he added with an awkward huff, looking down at his state of semi-undress.

“Right,” Alejandra replied with a stifled laugh. “How about you avoid catching a chill whilst I find something a bit more…authentic than tap water?”

Once Javier came back downstairs with his chest now covered, Alejandra was sat at the kitchen table with two shot glasses and a bottle of aguardiente.

“Not sure my stomach can handle any more of that after the wedding.”

“Lightweight. And just think of it as an initiation.”

Javier sighed in defeat, accepting the challenge as he took a seat opposite Alejandra.

She unscrewed the bottle and tipped measures into each glass. “Wanna make this more interesting?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Three shots, three questions each. But you can only ask a question after you’ve emptied your glass.”

Javier laughed for a second, unsure what he imagined Alejandra to be like, yet somehow, she surprised him anyway. “Okay. Already sounds better than every other icebreaker inflicted on me. Who goes first?”

“Guest’s choice.”

He stared down at his glass as though it was the barrel of a gun, remembering why he had eventually insisted whiskey was his and Horacio’s go-to drink. When he first arrived in Colombia, Horacio would offer him a shot, pouring liberally from the stash of aguardiente in his office drawer, and Javier accepted on multiple occasions. But it was over and done with like a spoonful of caustic medicine. At least whiskey could be drunk slower and delayed saying goodnight.

That wasn't the order of things now, though. So, Javier grabbed the bull by the horns and threw back his glass, wincing at the aniseed burn as it slid down his throat.

“New rule: you’ve got 30 seconds to come up with a question. Otherwise, you take another shot.”

“Alright, alright, I’m thinking.”

Alejandra’s gaze fell on the oven clock, ramping up the pressure. “10 seconds left…”

“Okay. I’ve got one. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”

“Annoying, obviously. Especially after he got the highest grade in his English class. I don’t know where he picked them up, but he knew all the swear words. Of course. He drove me crazy testing them out.”

“He did that to my old partner, Steve – his Spanish isn’t great, and Horacio sure liked to remind him whenever he got the chance.”

“Sounds about right. No wonder he liked you – best of both worlds.”

“Maybe.” Javier knew what Alejandra meant, but it didn’t stop heat from spreading through his cheeks regardless.

“He was generally pretty quiet at school,” Alejandra continued, "but not afraid to take the lead…or break a few rules.”

“Again, I’m not surprised.”

“Nope.” They both laughed at that. “He always liked to be moving, though. Doing something with his hands. Or playing sports – he was a good runner. We used to race each other around Jardín Botánico, and he would always beat me. I think he already knew he was in training for the Academy. So, obviously, he was accepted. No doubt some thought he got a free pass, but he was determined to prove himself. Then he had to grow up.”

The joviality faded abruptly from Alejandra’s face, transforming into a wistful smile.

“We both did. But at least I’d had more time with Papá. Good job I did have those few years to myself ‘cos Horacio followed him around like a shadow. Until he couldn’t. Then he thought he had to be the man of the house. Even when there were two much more qualified women for the job.”

“He thought it was his duty."

“Yeah. He did.” There was something akin to awe in how Alejandra looked at Javier, as though she was simultaneously taken aback and impressed that someone summed up and understood her brother so accurately and succinctly.

“Isn’t it your turn, now?” Javier asked after a moment of silence.

Without further hesitation, Alejandra downed her shot. “Why Colombia?”

“Why not Colombia?” He tried a feeble laugh but knew that wouldn't cut it. “I studied Gabriel García Márquez in high school. Although, can’t say I really got him at the time. Took me another try when I was older.”

Now he thought about it, Javier wasn’t convinced he exactly got him the second time around either, considering García Márquez’s views on extradition aligned fiercely with Horacio’s. But that was the luxury of hindsight.

“By then, my Mamá had long since passed, my fiancée had just become my ex, and I had no fucking clue what I was doing with my life. Guess I needed to get lost in someone else’s problems for a while.”

“Tell me about it.” Alejandra held a book up in the air that had been abandoned on the table since Javier joined her.

“Smart move. My teacher loved telling us how García Márquez moved to Mexico and wrote One Hundred Years of Solitude over there. And with how things went down in Laredo, I could see the appeal of starting over in another country. Mexico was…too close to home. The drug war was getting out of hand. More and more agents were being transferred. And what’s the line?” Javier broke off, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he licked his lips in concentration. “‘We came’, they said, ‘because everyone is coming’.”

Alejandra let a pause of bewilderment pass between them as she studied Javier with intrigue. “You’re not at all like the other gringos he’s worked with in the past.”

“Did he bring any of them home to his family?”

“No. You’re the first. As I’m sure you're aware.”

“Maybe.”

“Drink up.”

Javier did as he was told, repressing a cough as the potent liquid worked its magic. “Why did you choose farm life over being a cop?”

Alejandra laughed a little too loudly, considering the time. “There are other career choices, you know.”

Javier gasped. “There are?”

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? But that’s not quite how it went for me. The farm came with Fabián. They’re sort of a package deal. I’m sure you can understand that.” She threw Javier a knowing smile. “But I ruled out being a cop years before I moved here or met Fabián. I knew from Papá that women in the force were few and far between back then. They’re still pretty scarce now. I wasn’t up for putting myself in the firing line being a General’s daughter. They never would have respected me or believed I got there on my own merit. I didn’t want to spend my life trying to gain anyone's approval.”

“Makes sense. It’s not easy in the force if you’re…different from the rest."

“Exactly. I’m not sure it’s what Papá even wanted for me anyway. Because he knew what it’d be like. Then there was Mamá with her social work. She was in her element. Always fighting someone’s corner, especially during the suffrage movement. I think I was the odd one out in the family, ‘cos everyone else seemed to have…a calling except for me. So, I studied, got a business degree, became a buyer for various companies and ended up in the coffee industry. And the rest is history.”

“Good for you. And I guess that explains Horacio’s, er, distaste for a badly made cup of coffee.”

“Yep. He’s got no excuse. And neither do you anymore.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Your turn.” Javier took the bottle this time and filled Alejandra’s glass.

She downed it in one go. “¿Por qué no un llanero ahora que has descartado ser policía?” (Why not a llanero now you’ve ruled out being a police officer?)

“¿Por qué no un vaquero?” (Why not a vaquero?) Javier corrected with a glint in his eye that Alejandra returned with an eye roll. “Like you said…there are other jobs. That one was just never for me. I need more variety day-to-day. Like I’m making a bigger difference somehow. But preferably without the pretty fucking significant risk of death or blackmail.”

“A fair demand.”

“Right? It’s not like I’m asking for a raise.”

“When I moved here, I didn’t know where life was taking me, especially when the kids came along. I couldn’t keep my old job because of all the travelling…and being a mother was the priority until they started school. It took me a while to find my place on the buying and selling side of the business. So, all I’m saying is, things might get clearer once you’re settled back in Laredo.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Javier raised his glass and nodded his thanks to Alejandra, touched by her unprompted advice.

His third and final question had arrived, and the pressure to make it a good one pressed uncomfortably on his increasingly fuzzy head. “If your father was here now, what would you say to him?”

For a brief second, Javier feared he had overstepped some forbidden and invisible line and been overfamiliar with someone he only really knew by proxy at this stage.

But whilst Alejandra’s smile was permanently stained with traces of grief, warmth flickered then grew in her charcoal eyes. “I’d tell him we’re fine. That we miss him and wish he’d come back for good but that he needn’t worry. Because even though Mamá didn’t always get things right, she steered us through it as best she could. And we didn’t turn our backs on the world. That we found love in the dark.”

Alejandra sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Sorry. I think it’s the alcohol.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” Javier paused to clear his throat, blinking his vision back into focus. “It was beautifully said.” His hand reached for hers across the table, hoping again that he hadn’t gone too far.

But she let his hand rest there until she shook her head like a wet dog and poured her final shot. “Same question to you about your mother, obviously,” she said before downing the aguardiente in one.

Javier scoffed. “Well, I guess I deserved that.” He took his time, collecting his thoughts as though he was preparing an important speech. As though he’d been trying to find the right words for most of his life – and how rarely he’d succeeded.

“I’d tell her I miss her morisqueta. I’d tell her Pops visits her every week. But then I think she already knows that. Same way I think she made sure he never re-married.”

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, seeing with perfect clarity where his own loyal streak came from when his Pops was still as devoted to Mariana as the day they married. Siempre tuyo was no exaggeration.

“I’d make sure she knew he wasn’t alone, though. That he was known as Don Chucho to most in Laredo. That she’d be proud of him for growing the community she helped start. I’d brag about all the tamales we’ve made and quote her favourite poems. I’d introduce her to Horacio.”

He envisaged showing her Horacio’s poetry book, knowing that all it would take was for her to read Javier’s message in the opening pages to understand everything about who they were to each other. He’d even dreamed of it, waking with a ridiculous hope that she had somehow intercepted it.

“She sounds as incredible as your father. I hope one day I can thank him for taking my little brother under his wing when he needed it the most.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged.”

“I can’t – and don’t want to – imagine where he would have ended up without either of you, to be honest. He told me about the ambush…and everything else. And even though it doesn’t feel nearly enough, I just want to say...thank you.”

At first, Javier could only nod and swallow the lump bobbing at the base of his throat. “He did the same for me. It wasn’t easy walking away from my job, don’t get me wrong, but it was different for him. He felt like he’d betrayed Colombia and his Papá. Yet he did it anyway.”

“When it’s the right person, the sacrifices are worth it. And I can’t think of anyone more worthy of wearing that.” Alejandra’s sightline had fallen to Javier’s neck. His chest may have now been covered, but the silver chain still poked out from beneath the seam of his shirt.

She poured them a bonus shot each and raised her glass. “Welcome to the family.”

[luvcherry]

Let Me In [6] ✾

Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Word Count: 6.6k.

Part Five || Fin. ✾ Complete Chatroom Masterlist  

Summary: Y/n's last day is marked by a realization.

Content: slight angst, slight fluff, bittersweet feeling all around.

A/N: It has been a long, long time since I've posted and I'm sorry about that. This is the last chapter for let me and subsequently my last post on this blog. I had a lot of anxiety when writing up this chapter because I didn't want it to be disappointing. I never intended for Chatroom to become a series nor did I intend to do a sequel, but everyone's support on those fics and wanting to read more kept me going. A lot of the themes of this fic were drawn from my own life, and the ending makes sense for where I stand on old relationships. Happy new year everyone.

Natasha has been thinking about Y/n all night and all day.

She thinks about what happened during and after their outing together, how Y/n will be gone soon, and how she might be feeling. Natasha did not expect Y/n to occupy such a large part of her brain after what felt like a satisfying conclusion to their open-ended relationship. She had to ask her, and answer truthfully, did she really want things to end?

There is no alternative universe where the two end up back together, she believes. It wouldn't be the healthiest thing for either of them. Yet, she finds herself saddened that they may not have any type of relationship, period. Natasha will never be awarded the prize of greatest friend on Earth, but something nags at her to just be a friend for Y/n.

Against what might be her better judgment, she picks up her phone to call Y/n. Her finger hovers over her name before colliding with the screen. She is uncharacteristically nervous; a woman hasn't made her sweat like this in years. Each ring was agonizing as it continued for what felt like forever. What if Y/n blocked her number? What if last night was it for them?

When she closed the door on Y/n last night she felt content until the sun began to set. She wished she had walked Y/n back to the university to keep her company and to spend more time with her. What they did wasn't just a hook-up for Natasha, and she doubts it was for Y/n. There was something special about the way they touched each other -- something special about how Y/n was desperate to be touched. Every moment was euphoric, but in between her existential thoughts, Natasha could not stop thinking about the particular moment where Y/n grabbed her wrist and guided it between her legs to feel how wet she was. It made Natasha gasp even though she wasn't the one with a hand brushing against her clit.

"Hello?"

"Y/n it's me."

There was a few seconds of silence between the two of them. Y/n was wondering why she was calling and Natasha was starting to wonder the same thing.

"Hi, Nat. How are you?"

"I'm good...are you not at the university?"

"No. I went in this morning and walked into a surprise going away party and then they let me take the rest of the day off. It was nice."

"It seems like they liked you. You must have charmed them well."

"Ha! Doing their dirty work? Yes. Charming them? Hell no," Y/n jokes. "But I do think I made a good impression on them. They offered for me to company and with, quote, 'better accommodations'. I think they're trying to entice me to stay."

Y/n spoke to her with ease, taking Natasha by complete surprise. There was no shakiness in her voice or any awkwardness from her. Usually it was Natasha speaking with confidence and leading their conversation. However, this change is nice (even if it's mostly caused by Natasha thinking about how she heard that voice moaning her name about 24 hours ago).

"I'm sorry...I'm rambling," she says sheepishly as she comes back to reality.

"No, it's okay. I was just calling to see...to see if you wanted to do something today?"

Natasha didn't mean for her words to come out so shaky like she was a scared child, but it feels like a lot of pressure is on her. For one she feels like she owes it to Y/n, but she's afraid that Y/n will say no. She's well within her right to say no, but that doesn't mean it would make it easier for Natasha.

"Okay, sure. What did you have in mind?"

Natasha felt a mini panic set in. She was preparing to hear a disappointing 'no' come from the other side of the phone, but here Y/n was saying yes. She indeed wanted to spend her last day in the city with Natasha. She wracked her brain for things the three of them could do together. There is no way she would be able to take a five year old to one of her favorite restaurants. As long as she has been friends with Wanda and been around her kids, she doesn't really know where kids like to go to have fun. The park seems a little bit too boring for a last day treat. 

"How about the zoo?" She rushes out.

 Does Natasha like the zoo? No. She hates the smell and how it's always crowded. It's a gorgeous Saturday morning that it almost feels like Summer is here, so of course she doesn't want to be at the zoo. However, she's not immune to doing something she doesn't like for someone she does like. Plus she remembers how Kennedy has that stuffed giraffe; maybe she would enjoy seeing one in the flesh.

"The Zoo? Kennedy's never been," Y/n sounds like she's contemplating whether it's a good idea or not. By all means, if she wanted to say then Y/n would be more than welcome to. Natasha could just take them to the much calmer river-side of the city. "Hold on, let me ask her."

Y/n steps away from the phone leaving Natasha to simmer in the silence. Her mind fills with doom scenarios in those moments alone. What if Y/n has a change of heart and doesn't want to see her on her very last day? Natasha would be devastated. It hasn't sunk in that she may not see Y/n again for months, years, or even ever again. They haven't exchanged any form of social media yet. All she has is her phone number that Natasha will be too cowardly to call.

"She wants to go! What time do you want to meet up?"

The sense of relief that washes over her almost disgusts Natasha. She's excited to go to the zoo for the first time in her life.

"Great...want me to pick you up?"

"Isn't the zoo going west? You would just be going backwards so we can meet you there."

"Okay. So 11?"

"11 sounds like a plan."

---

Kennedy was ready to drag Y/n through the entrance of the zoo. Y/n had to keep reminding her that they had to wait for Natasha to arrive.

Y/n wondered what made Nat want to do this. She's been extremely kind on this trip, but going to the zoo doesn't seem like her thing. Compromise is maybe a component of the current Natasha. Y/n tries to play it cool when she spots Natasha walking her way. The last time she saw her was when she was between her legs...

"Did I keep you waiting?"

"You kept this one waiting," Y/n gestures to Kennedy, "but five year olds aren't known for patience."

Natasha feels like a stranger with them. Yesterday really threw her for a loop for some reason. She feels unlike herself and hopes Y/n doesn't notice.

"We should go inside now, shouldn't we? Before she throws a fit."

The zoo was just as expected: loud and crowded. It was full of families pushing strollers and fathers holding tiny kids on their shoulders. Kennedy grasps onto Y/n's hand so she doesn't get lost and in-turn Y/n holds onto Natasha's hand to keep her close. She doesn't want to think about it, but Natasha can't stop looking at their hands currently melded together.

"Where should we start?"

Y/n turns to Natasha for her guidance. This was her idea, so she must be familiar with this place, right? It was so much bigger than anywhere Kennedy has ever been before and Y/n doesn't want to overwhelm her. Natasha could see it all written all over Y/n's face; a hidden concern that resides within most parents.

"We could try to find the giraffes," she suggested. An idea that is popular with the child with them.

Y/n was really relying on Natasha, self-proclaimed zoo hater, to guide them through this thing. If there was one thing that was consistent about Y/n through all these years, it's that she finds crowds unnerving. It felt like an instinct to cling to Natasha, the older one who has always been bold no matter what. Their hands are still locked together. Natasha takes advantage of that and leads them onto the zoo's path without saying a word.

Away from the main entrance, the crowd gradually thinned out. Y/n feels like she can breathe again. Natasha herself feels a sense of relief at seeing Y/n relax. The sunlight cast on the trees above caused soft shadows to fall over them. The path of trees brought over a sense of tranquility. Natasha glances over at the two and can't help but think about how beautiful Y/n looks. It made her forget about how much she really dislike this place.

They ease into a leisure pace as they come upon the first few animals on their path. Kennedy was insistent on being the smartest among them and correctly naming every animal before either Y/n or Natasha could. She was a smart kid, naming over half of the animals correctly, but everyone she didn't know was an "annie lope." Y/n would giggle at her silly answer and walk her closer to the dens to read the info cards. She would tell her the correct name, what class of animal they are, and their home of origin. When she was crouched down next to Kennedy like that, it was like they were the only people to exist. Natasha can't help but feel her heart squeeze from two emotions; hope and grief

If her parents had ever done something like this with her when she was young, she certainly doesn't remember. She would remember the warm, unique embrace that can only come from someone who loves you that much. Watching it happen in front of her eyes almost makes her feel like she shouldn't be here with them. She and Y/n's live completely different lives, they always have. Lives that were never meant to fit.

Y/n turns her head and looks at Natasha before gesturing for her to come over with a tilt of her head. Natasha's feet move for themselves and she joins Y/n and Kennedy to become three. Every fiber of her being is telling her to run away; she doesn't "belong."

Kennedy is too young to notice the stiffness in Natasha's body. Instead she begins to list off the facts of the red kangaroos before them as if she had discovered the information herself. The innocent fascination reminded her of everything unobtainable in her life. But, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin the mood.

It soon came time for them to move forward as Kennedy reminded them of their true mission of finding the giraffes.

Y/n let Kennedy keep a tiny bit of distance between them. She wanted to give her that sense of space and freedom she never had, but she kept her eyes directly on her. The distance did allow for Y/n and Natasha to have a moment for themselves. Y/n was too nervous to take it, but Natasha seemed eager to.

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

Y/n takes her eyes off of Kennedy for a split second to look over at Natasha.

"I did," her answer was short and to the point. The awkward dinner and tension aside, this trip wasn't so bad.

When her eyes land back on Kennedy, she finds the comfort to be more vulnerable with Natasha.

"I don't know if I'll come back though."

"Why?" Natasha asks rather quickly. She would hate to be the reason Y/n doesn't want to step foot in this city ever again. Yet, at the same time, she wouldn't blame her. "You didn't enjoy the university?"

"No, that's not it," Y/n sighs. She'll be damned if she talks about her personal life within earshot of Kennedy, so she keeps the topic on her career. "I just have a lot of conflicting feelings after these two weeks.

"Like what?"

"My current career if I'm being honest."

Despite nearly a decade apart, Natasah still understands her. She can hear in Y/n's voice that she's not truly happy, and that she’s confused. Y/n tries to let experience give her the insight she needs but always seems to come out even more confused. She's never truly asking herself the right questions.

"I don't know if I want to do this anymore, and that's so scary. The amount of time and money put into getting me here would all be wasted...it makes me feel shameful even thinking like that."

"Did you think you would love this forever?"

Her question sounds more brutal than she intended it to, but Natasha is curious. And that sincerity in wanting to understand her beyond the surface almost made Y/n give her an answer. She can't bring herself to do it though.

"I can't give you the answer that will solve everything, but one thing my boss told me-"

"The world famous Mr. Stark" Y/n jokingly mocks.

"Yea -- that one," she jokes with her before continuing. "When I was hired by Stark Industries, two other people were hired in with me. One was alright, she works in another department these days, but the other was brilliant. His resume was stacked and he was fresh out of the Ivys. To make a long story short, he didn't even last a year. It's not an easy job, but if you never wanted to be there from the start then the burnout will eat you alive -- and quickly. Tony told us that this job doesn't have to be our life's passion, but we simply have to want to be there. He would say something like 'even the brightest minds dim under an unwilling heart'," Natasha recounts.

It wasn't anything groundbreaking, but it made a lot of sense to Y/n. No one has ever reminded her about that reality. College was an escape from her parents and she picked the first thing that sounded interesting to major in. She wasn't particularly passionate about anything besides finding freedom. Now that life has caught up with her, it's settling in that she has never been living for herself even when she was out of her parent's reach.

"But there was also a time where I absolutely hated my job. It's normal! It's normal, Y/n."

It felt easy to talk to Natasha, something Y/n didn' think she would ever feel again. She remembers those years ago when she would confide into her about her life growing up. That was a time where she felt complete trust in her. That trust was broken years ago, yet she's not hung up on being vulnerable with her. It even felt right doing so.

"I guess you're right. I just worry because this job is really all I have. I could teach, but I don't really see myself teaching," she admits.

Maybe Natasha wasn't the right person to receive career advice from (or at least that's how Natasha felt) because her career is all she has too. Hearing Y/n worry about that while it's a comfort for her that reminds how they're always opposite.

"We're close!" Kennedy's voice interrupts their fading conversation. She points at the sign indicating their close arrival to the giraffe den. Y/n moves her attention back to Kennedy. All NAtasha feels like she can is watch. She watches as Y/n takes the young girl's hand and how she uses all of her might to pull Y/n faster towards the giraffes. "Faster!" She cries out as if the giraffes will disappear any second now. Y/n laughs before telling her there's no rush. It was surreal to see Y/n parent her.

The trip climaxes for little Kennedy when she catches a glimpse of her first real-life giraffe. She can see its head, but nothing else. Groups of people stand along the rail making it impossible for her to get closer. She looks up at Y/n with a desperate look in her eyes. She reaches up at Y/n and jumps up and down. She whines without a single tear falling from her eyes. The usually composed child acting as if she's a toddler again.

"I got her," Nataasha says without a second thought.

If Y/n was shocked then Natasha was absolutely dumbstruck by her own action. She checks back into reality when she has Kennedy in her arms. She was smaller than Natasha realized. She handled her like precious cargo as she lifted her high. "I'm going to sit you on my shoulders, okay?" Kennedy nods even though Natasha can't see her. She has never done this before so she was scared, so she held on tightly. Y/n stood nearby in case she got too scared. Her short legs dangle over Natasha's shoulders as she grabs onto her head. She was fucking up her hair, but Natasha didn't care.

"Can you see them?" She asks, hoping her efforts weren't in vain.

"I can! I can see a baby!"

Y/n couldn't concentrate on the animals in front of her. Her eyes were glued to the figures of Kennedy and Natasha. She was still shocked by her ex-girlfriend's actions. She was frozen in place. No matter how nervous she knows Natasha is, she looks like a natural at this. Kennedy hasn't been personally around that many adults in her life, let alone someone from Y/n's personal life. Y/n was watching her two worlds collide in front of her; the old and the new. It stings herself of years past that this unspoken moment with Natasha is what makes her feel the normalness she has seeked her entire life. Life has the most bitter ways of teaching it lessons.

---------

It was nearing 4 o'clock when they reached the end of the exhibit. Kennedy, of course, wanted some sort of souvenir to take home. There were gift shops filled with all kinds of things to buy, but she went straight to the stuffed animals. Another giraffe seemed like overkill to Y/n who tried to talk her into getting another stuffed animal which was a failure. Kennedy was unsurprisingly insistent on getting a "brother" for her beloved giraffe. Y/n lost the little battle once Natasha chimed in and sided with Kennedy, reminding them both that "everyone needs family."

No one in the city was happier than Kennedy that day. Her excitement wore her out, and it showed in the way she dragged her feet. Y/n took her into her arms for the lengthy walk back to the car. She ended up being lulled to sleep. Natasha walked them back to their car. She wanted to say something, but didn't want to wake a 5-year-old.

"This is us," Y/n announces softly before coming to a stop. "Can you hold this real quick?" Y/n gestures to her tote bag.

"I told you you should've let me carry it on our way back," she pokes before swiftly taking it off her shoulder.

Y/n puts Kennedy in her car seat, moving gently not to rouse her awake. She has alone this what feels like a million times over yet she's always anxious about it. Yet, she skillfully places her in her car seat and buckles her in without an issue. Natasha has been in awe all day by the sweetness with which Y/n cares for Kennedy. She was once a super shy, naive 19-year-old.

"Thank you," she grabs the tote from her, "for holding that and for today."

"It was nothing...just wanted to make sure your last day was fun."

"Well it was something. Kennedy surely enjoyed it, but she wore me out. We don't go out much back at home, so this was surely a treat for her."

"But did you enjoy it too?"

Natasah was growing beyond the point of caring if she sounded desperate. Today had been sentimental for her. She wanted today to have been just as good for Y/n as it was for her.

"Yea...yea it was. I realized I don't really like the zoo, but I do love seeing Kennedy have fun. So it was worth it for her."

Natasha felt a sense of relief at Y/n's admission. She hated that place too. However she agrees with Y/n, it was worth it to see Kennedy happy.

"She really enjoyed being with you," she continues. "I was shocked -- not because it's you or anything -- Kennedy isn't used to being around new people. She can get really shy, but she was comfortable with you."

"I'm happy to have the Kennedy stamp of approval."

Y/n holds an appreciative smile on her face, but she feels stuck. She doesn't want this day to end. She doesn't want to get on that flight tomorrow and head back to her quiet life. It would be painful to admit that out loud. She's enjoyed many moments with Natasha on this trip just as much as she didn't want to be around her. Her name and face are a reminder of such a good and dark time of her life. For the first time since early this morning, she imagines her between her thighs again. She felt a bliss that almost seemed to be never ending, but she'll be gone tomorrow.

"We should probably get going," she blurts out, which she instantly regrets. She's desperate to just stay in her presence for a moment longer, but her heart is beating too fast.

She regrets what she said when she sees her face fall. Natasha didn't want their day to end at what feels too early, but both are too cowardly to admit.

"Right...right. You probably have a lot to do."

She doesn't.

It feels impossible to look Natasha in the eyes. Y/n knows she'll go weak in the knees if she looks at her again. She's too oblivious to notice how close they're getting. She doesn't look up until Natasha makes her. Her thumb begins to stroke her skin.

"I hate how you're always so shy around me. I'm not scary."

Her words burn in her brain as Y/n leans in to kiss her. Her entire body feels like it's on fire as she just stands there while they kiss. She reckons she's already kissing her back, but she isn't aware of her temporary paralysis until her lips move with Natasha's. How a kiss in public feels more scandalous than Natasha's mouth on Y/n's body is beyond her.

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

Natasha was at the age where she didn't quite know how to comfort Yelena.

When her younger sister was just a baby she would stand over her crib and try to quiet her cries by shushing her. It didn't help at all, and Natasha felt like she was doomed with the inability to care for her little sister.

"What happened, Yelena?"

Her little sister looks up at her with big eyes; eyes too beautiful to be red and filled with tears.

"I-I got hurt."

Yelena wasn't supposed to be outside. Natasha was with her friends from the neighborhood when she heard Yelena's familiar cry. Yelena was too young to be outside by herself, but old enough to be able to escape the house. Nat freaked when she saw her sitting on the steps to their house and subsequently the scrape on her knee; gushing and bright red. Yes, Yelena wasn't supposed to be outside, but Natasha knows she's responsible for her sister whenever her parents aren't around. It didn't matter that she had snuck outside to find her older sister to play with it. What matters is that Yelena is hurt.

"Stay here, okay?"

Yelena is afraid to be alone again, but she nods her head, trusting Natasha wholly. Natasha feels shitty for letting this happen even if it wasn't her fault. She could've stayed in with her and seen her friends another day. Though the idea of 'another day' was scarce, it didn't matter.

She hurries to find the antiseptic and band aids in the medicine closet. She didn't want to leave Yelena alone for too long in a paranoid fear that she would somehow get hurt again.

The tears had stopped by the time Nat came back, but she still feels bad seeing Yelena's red face. She kneels in front of her and begins to tend to her wound.

"Be still, okay?"

Natasha felt like her words were warning enough to brace Yelena for the sting. However once the alcohol meets the wound, she begins wincing in pain.

"I said be still!"

"But it hurts!"

Natasha sighs in frustration, but she tries not to show it. Yelena is too young to withstand pain like she is able to. She's annoyed that Yelena won't stop wincing as she tries to clean her up. Annoyed that this only happened because of Yelena's persistence to be around her big sister. The love and admiration that fills in her little sister's eyes annoy Natasha. She wishes she could do more to take away Yelena's pain, both physically and more. She feels useless even as she places the band-aid over her skin to begin the healing process on her wound.

"All better?" Yelena asks with a shaky voice.

"All better, kid. Now go back in the house before mom and dad find you out here."

Despite being sent inside, there was a big smile on Yelena's face. That's all she wanted. Natasha found that she couldn't stay out for too much longer. Not because it was getting late, but because Yelena needed someone, and she was that only someone.

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

"If you did it the first time, you can do it one more time, okay? There is nothing to be afraid of. I promise!"

Y/n was confused as to why Kennedy decided at 6am that morning that she's afraid of airplanes.

She remembers how excited she was at the airport in Arizona to get on a plane for the first time. It was Y/n who was on the verge of a breakdown when it came time to board their plane. The switch over two weeks is what's confusing her, but she finds that it's futile to try to question the mind of a 5 year-old.

"Don't you miss Ms. Bridgette and all of your friends at school?"

"Y-Yes...I'm just scared," she says with a pout.

Y/n feels like her worries about pulling Kennedy out of her usual environment too early may have messed her up. She had gotten used to this hotel room and now she has to leave.

"It's okay to be nervous and scared, Kennedy," Y/n grabs onto her hands knowing that it brings her comfort. "I get scared too, but I think about everything that makes me happy to feel better."

If Y/n were to name everything that makes her happy, the list would not be that long. Leaving her and Kennedy's home for the first time in a very long time made her realize how quiet and mundane her life is. She takes Kennedy to kindergarten, goes to work, picks Kennedy up, and they come home. Here it feels like they have unlimited options for everything: food, fun, and opportunities. Maybe the reason for Kennedy's fit was her reaction to the vacation ending. She can't really blame her for that, she found herself feeling sad about it too.

Natasha would be here in about 30 minutes. She wants Kennedy to settle before she comes to get them. Y/n was more nervous about seeing her again than for the flight home. She feels some sort of regret for agreeing to let her take them to the airport. She wanted to use the excuse that she couldn’t drive her rental, but she simply agreed to let her do it. "It's the least I could do" she kept telling her, and that seemed to be the sentiment she has held her entire stay.

She grew anxious as the time ticked away for the two to check out of the hotel and for Natasha to pick them up. She was going to drive herself crazy by continuously checking her phone for the time or to see if she had reached out to her. Y/n’s anxiety was more palpable than she would have liked to admit. Kennedy could sense it and clung to Y/n as she checked every single corner of their hotel to make sure they had packed everything.

How would their final goodbye go?

If anything, Y/n was more scared of some big epiphany hitting her seconds before boarding the plane. A deep part of her accepted this trip to receive some closure, but what closure was becoming blurry. Would she maintain some sort of contact or even friendship with Natasha? She likes the person she has become, she thinks. She seems like she’s trying her best to not be the pompous bastard she was in her 20s. It seems like she’s trying to be more considerate but it’s funny to Y/n because it’s a little too late. All she wanted for years was an apology, and indirectly her acceptance. Yet she can’t shake the feeling that accepting ‘the least she could do’ means she’ll always be dependent on her.

Y/n’s phone starts going off which breaks the daze she was in. It was Natasha calling her.

“I’ll be down in a minute. We’re gonna check out.”

She hangs up the phone without letting her get a word in. She doesn’t mean to be so rude, but her own anxiety and Kennedy’s fit this morning has her on edge.

“You ready?”

The child was hesitant but nodded her head and grabbed onto Y/n’s hand.

It feels as if the whole hotel is checking out today as Y/n navigates her way through the lobby with Kennedy. Natasha was there waiting for them, something Y/n didn’t ask her to do, but something she felt was necessary.

“Do you need me to grab anything?”

“Yeah, can you grab my suitcase?”

She was there every step of the way to help them. Y/n didn’t calm down until her back hit the passenger seat of the rental. She stared out the window, looking at the skyscrapers in a similar fashion to Kennedy when they first arrived in the city. Every building and all the people in them make her feel so small, but in a way that comforts her.

“I hope you enjoyed your trip,” Natasha interjects into the silence. She notices how quiet Y/n is and it’s sort of bothering her. She knows she is likely the reason for the prolonged silence, but she knows things don’t have to be this way.

“I think I did. At least I hope I did too. I feel like it’s made me more confused than ever before,” she admits. Y/n is hesitant to delve into the details with Kennedy in the backseat. However when she looks back to check on her she sees that she’s dozing off. It’s going to take some time to get to the airport with the traffic, so it’s no surprise that she’s out before they even arrive. Seeing her sleeping, relaxed face feels like a weight lifted off of Y/n’s shoulder. They were getting on that plane regardless, but she wanted to do it without a major public breakdown.

“Do you think you might come back?”

Y/n turns forward again, her eyes lingering over the side of Natasha’s face in the process. She could never, ever read her. It’s the pangs of the past that make a part of her wonder if she’s being sincere or if he’s just waiting for her moment to make a power play. However, it seems like she’s the only one who understands what she has to say.

“I don’t know. It’s definitely an exciting feeling being here, but I assume it gets boring if you visit a lot or live here. I liked the university, but I’m not sure if I would fit in.”

“You don’t think you fit in anywhere though, Y/n.”

She doesn’t intend to come off as harsh, and luckily for her Y/n doesn’t take it that way.

“I know, that’s the problem. It feels like something is wrong with me even though I’m able to function in “normal” society with everyone else. Still, that’s not enough to make me feel stable or like I know myself.”

“If I can be frank with you, you’ve got to stop worrying about old shit. It’s written all over your face. I know it’s easier said than done, but I say this to try to get through to you. What keeps you up at night is not going to matter when you wake up in the morning. Not your parents, not whatever happened in college, and not me. You’re too young and too pretty to be worrying about all of that.”

Y/n feels her face growing hot from Natasha’s words. The mentions of her college years and indirectly their relationship. And the fact that she called her pretty. Since she took responsibility for Kennedy she finds that she thinks less and less about herself and her appearance. It’s a nice break from those insecurity, but much of what Natasha says rings true. She has too much time ahead of her to worry about a failed college relationship. When she thinks about the people she knew in college, she remembers fondly how they had a handful of their own failed relationships. Y/n is not alone in her lack of successful relationships no matter how isolating it feels. Natasha herself doesn’t have anyone romantic in her life and that’s probably due to her own hang-ups. Y/n, never being the one to pry, wonders what goes on in that head of hers.

“I guess I should get over it, and you, shouldn’t I?” Y/n doesn’t believe the words that’s coming out of her own mouth, but it feels like a victory. She always fantasized about giving Natasha a piece of her mind for breaking her heart like that.

Natasha swallows hard, not knowing what to say next. She wants Y/n to get over whatever is holding her back, but she doesn’t want to say it in a way that will make the situation go left. She’s surprised that they’ve even gotten this far in this particular topic without someone getting riled up.

“If there is still any part of you that likes me as Natasha your friend, can you promise me that you’ll get out of your own head?”

“If you do the same, then yes.”

There is unspeakable code between two people who share similar traumas. There is an understanding that you can either come out feeling like you appear unscathed or you feel like you’re completely marred and everyone sees it. There is struggle every step of the way. Y/n and Natasha's restricting and uncertain upbringings turned them into anxiety-ridden adults always worried about what's going to happen next; they just show it in two different ways. Natasha is not as tightly wound as Y/n is. Her anxiety is concealed by her workaholic nature; busying herself as a distraction. Natasha took advantage of that, she knows it, and she will be sorry for it for what feels like forever.

They have these conversations where they, admittedly mostly Y/n, skirt around the direct topic of their relationship, name the difference in age and maturity. She’s always felt so young and naive that it felt natural assuming that role in the relationship. She’s gonna be 30 in a few years and she doesn’t want her life to be marked by this naivety. She’s not a little girl being held hostage by her overzealous parents. She’s free to do what she wants.

“We could both treat ourselves a little better, couldn’t we? You’re trying to work your problems away and I don’t leave the house to avoid them.”

“We’re both dysfunctional.”

“We’re both dysfunctional.”

There’s a quiet lull the rest of the way to the airport. Y/n may have not gotten every little thing off of her chest, but she knows Natasha can read between the lines of their own secret language.

Y/n feels like she’s in a movie where one little trip, two weeks out of her comfort zone, has changed her. She knows it’s a change and she’s hoping it’s for the better. Natasha will always be the first person who broke her heart, but she will also be the person who made her feel as comfortable as possible here. Kennedy seemed to like her too.

Airports are consistently busy. There were just as many people dropping off cars and piling onto the shuttles to head back to the airport. Natasha was able to squeeze her way onto one with them much to Y/n’s objection.

“How are you going to get back to your car?” She had parked in the parking lot of the bank next to her hotel. There were so many steps for her to take simply just to do this that it felt like a big inconvenience for her.

“If you saw my uber history to and from the airport, you might pass out.”

Natasha’s insistence to be there every step of the way was still slightly baffling for Y/n, but she appreciates it. For a moment it feels as if they’re operating as a unit: Natasha, Y/n, and Kennedy. It felt that way yesterday at the zoo too, but she didn’t want to think about it then.

They make it to the airport and quickly to the departures’ terminal. This is where it ends for the two of them.

“Well, this is us.”

“This is you.”

Natasha is tempted to walk them inside to the point where she can't go any further with them, but she doesn’t make that suggestion.

“I’m going to miss you, okay?” She admits.

It’s a little shocking to Y/n that he’s showing this kind of emotion when she feels like they hadn’t done that much together over the course of her trip. But about 80 percent of their time together was enjoyable. Y/n enjoyed the second dinner, the trip to the couch, and yesterday’s day at the zoo. It was lovely to do something with someone she felt understood even if she wanted to hate her. She can’t hate her, especially not when she looks at her face. Her features had softened over their years and there are obvious signs of aging that Y/n finds attractive. A part of her wishes this fresh start between them could continue and Natasha could come with her, but life doesn’t work that way and she can accept that this time around.

“I’ll…I’ll miss you too Nat. Maybe I will come back to visit, who knows. Maybe Kennedy will drag me back to that little weird café. Who knows.”

Natasha would be damned if she let their goodbye be any more awkward than their first meeting in years. She grabbed Y/n and wrapped her arms around her. Y/n was stiff in her arms until she felt her relax. Y/n inhaled her scent, something she had never forgotten even years later.

The two of them feel a little arm wrap around the legs and look down to see Kennedy hugging them both. She hates to be left out and joined in on a moment she doesn’t quite understand. To those around them they probably look like something they are not; a family. How other people perceive them, and her, doesn’t seem to matter that much to Y/n anymore. She’s happy. Happier she’s been in a long time. She feels soft lips press against her cheek before one last tight squeeze. Neither want to let go, but it’s important that they do.

“Will I see you again, Y/n?”

The desperation in her voice was hard to ignore. Y/n sort of liked that.

“Maybe, Nat.”