#the trauma makes sense now 😂😂

[angel-of-the-moons]

Doppelgänger

Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™

A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL

Taglist: @tojishugetiddies

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You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.

Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.

You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.

You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:

Hey, Gabe...

Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!

You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.

No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂

Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬

Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?

No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.

You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.

But what you got instead made your heart sink.

He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.

Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.

You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...

But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.

Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--

Your phone pinged.

They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...

You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.

Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;

God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way

I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.

He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.

I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.

No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.

OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?

Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.

Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.

OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.

KK, see ya.

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Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.

You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.

God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.

That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--

Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.

You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.

Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.

"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.

You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.

You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.

Before you could push a button, the door slid open.

Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.

That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.

Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.

"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"

"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.

You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.

Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.

He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.

"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.

When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.

With guilt.

Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.

You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"

"I'm sorry." He interrupts.

You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.

You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"

He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.

He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.

"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.

"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.

His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.

He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.

Because you knew he was hurting.

"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."

You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.

His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.

You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.

You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.

He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.

"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.

"Mig--"

"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.

"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.

You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."

"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.

"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"

You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.

Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.

You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.

You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.

"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.

You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.

"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."

"I--"

You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"

He didn't answer.

"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"

No answer.

"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."

You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.

"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.

"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.

"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."

He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.

"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.

He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.

"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.

"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."

You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.

"I know you will, Miggy."

"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.

"Well, the last one..."

"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.

You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.

"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."

He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.

"Mierda..."

You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.

"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."

His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.

Yeah. You were right.

He was Miguel O'Hara.

And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse

[ofallthingsnasty]

H A T for Ace? Hehe

Yandere Alphabet

pffffft 😂 hey, i should be the one making cheesy jokes here skadjk honestly, it might be my grand old age (not really) but he's such a soggy little man to me. you have been warned - he's very different to the ones posted so far.

tw.yandere, emotional manipulation, minors dni

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The whole fucking relationship. He depends on you, needs you. You’re his band-aid, his childhood plushie, his mom, his sibling, his partner, his best friend - Ace is the everything-issues man and all those deep-seated insecurities and all that trauma, all that hurt is coming out when he’s with you. He’ll never hurt you physically but it’s going to be a total mindfuck for you. This whole thing clearly isn't right; he is definitely out of line, you're in this situation against your will - but he's like a wet cat when he's with you and it's not an act. You'll feel like you're losing your mind - caught between being scared and forced to dry the tears of a man who has basically decided that you're his ersatz family. Maybe he'll snap one day? He doesn't seem to be the type but he already went so far - you never know with Ace.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s extremely affectionate. He’s constantly touching you, playing with your hair, your clothes, your accessories. He wants you to touch him, too - just dote on him, please, show him that you’re there, that you care for him.  Cup his cheeks, cradle his head - he’ll practically melt into your touch. If you initiate it, he’ll be so happy.  (Don't overdo it, though. Or else he's gonna start crying and you don't want that. Absolutely ghoulish.)

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Oh god, anything but tears, please. He simply can’t take those - it breaks his heart to see you sad. At first, he’ll try anything and everything to cheer you up - but it’s not only for you. It’s for him, too. I think he’s very unstable as a yandere, in the sense that he flip-flops between being delusional and being horribly self-aware of the things he has done to you. He didn't want to be a monster, ever. Now look at him, forcing someone into playing pretend with him. Maybe all those people were right and he really is a demon child.  But he can’t let you go, either. You soothe that sting in his heart, your touch is all he thinks about after a long day. As much as it eats away at him, he's too selfish to stop this.

So don’t cry, please, don’t make him face the reality of what this is. Play nice, play soft, play your part convincingly so he can forget about it all. Make him think you're here with him because you want to be and maybe he can finally believe that he deserves to be loved.

If your tears and silence don't get better, though - he’ll simply clam up and ignore you. Not out of malice, never out of malice - but he really can’t take it. He just reaches a certain point where he can't help you without spiraling himself and has to get away from those big, sad eyes.

#he lowkey reminds me of arthur morgan with his self-esteem issues and the whole fandom wants to bottlefeed that man #trust me i would too. and ace just needs to snuffle ONCE and i'd go: oh no angel boy what's wrong 🥺🥺🥺 poor honey... #tw.yandere #/ace #/one piece #yandere one piece #portgas d ace x reader

[corrodedbisexual]

bound, beautiful, beloved

Steddie | E | ~7.8k | AO3 link

Written for @steves-strapcollection's birthday! 🥰 I hope you have a wonderful day dear friend and co-member of the sacred cult of Good Boy Eddie. 😂 Happy birthday!!! 🎉🫶

Featuring: Porn with Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Play, Shibari, Vibrators, Lace Panties, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, Body Worship, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Mirror Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Laughter During Sex, Making Out, Aftercare, Post-Coital Cuddling, Light Angst, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Trauma, Insecurity, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Bondage, Tenderness, Banter, Dorks in Love, Dancing, Massage, Established Relationship, Top/Switch/Soft dom Steve Harrington, Bottom/Switch/Sub Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's good boy, POV Steve Harrington

Steve's boyfriend looks like the ultimate wet dream. There’s never a time he doesn’t find Eddie the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake. Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point. It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer. *** A story of Steve and Eddie growing into their intimate relationship, full of playfulness, amazing orgasms, developing trust and confidence, and above all else, unconditional love.

Snippet below!

Steve licks his thumb and exaggeratedly loudly flips another page of a sports magazine in his hands. One he definitely hasn’t managed to comprehend a single word of, while all his senses are attuned to the sounds coming from the foot of the bed.

The constant buzzing noise. The harsh breathing. The occasional whimper, or sheets rustling, or the springs inside the mattress creaking slightly.

Unable to help himself, Steve once again glances over the edge of the page at the absolute erotic masterpiece that is his boyfriend. He’s not sure why he even decided on this absurd game of mock disinterest. He’d rather be watching the sight in front of him the entire time, not pretend to be reading the magazine he can’t give a single fuck about right now.

Eddie’s sitting back on his heels, his shins bound to his thighs with a gorgeous diamond patterned leg tie. Another piece of Steve’s handiwork is a harness woven across his hips, snug underneath his balls and framing his crotch in a way that makes Steve’s mouth water every time he looks. Besides the bright red ropes, the only clothing on Eddie is a matching red pair of lace panties. Eddie’s cock is straining desperately against the delicate fabric, a dark wet spot already visible below the tip.

Eddie meets his eyes briefly, his pupils blown, lips parted, face and chest flushed. Then, he drops his head and groans, trying to grind his hips back into the source of his sweet torture, to no avail. Everything Steve’s done was to ensure he would neither be able to escape it, nor attempt any extra stimulation.

Of course, potentially he could. His hands were left untied, but untied doesn’t mean free. They are bound by Steve’s firm command, right after he finished all of his rope work, gently tugging on Eddie’s wrists and guiding them down to the mattress. “Hands against the bed, baby. Keep them there. You can be a good boy and do that for me, can’t you?”

And so, Eddie’s hands stay in place, squeezing and clawing at the sheets to either side of his bound thighs.

Steve glances at his watch. It’s only been ten minutes, yet Eddie already looks like a fucking wreck. Steve can see how hard his arms are shaking, how he’s likely desperate to touch himself through the soft lace that must feel like absolute torment on his leaking dick. Creating pressure but no friction. Steve’s tried them on once, so he knows what it’s like when you’re hard, to feel every swirl of that beautiful pattern against hypersensitive skin.

Other than being pretty (so, so pretty stretched over Eddie’s equally pretty cock, hard and thick, with a prominent contour of veins now standing out against the lace), the panties serve a very practical purpose. Steve couldn’t quite figure out how to keep the magic wand in place where he wanted it with only ropes, and this solution was just genius. The handle is tucked into part of the hip harness underneath Eddie’s ass, whereas the head of the device is firmly held by the elastic of the panties, pressed snug against his taint, sending steady vibrations to his balls and prostate. Lowest speed setting. Not enough to push him to the brink, just enough to slowly drive him mad with the relentless teasing.

“Ah, I see you’re… not enjoying your magazine… much..?” Eddie catches him looking and grins, way too cocky for the situation he’s currently in. As if on cue, his dick twitches again in his panties, and he groans, sucking in his stomach and uselessly rolling his hips again, as if trying to grind on thin air. “Oh fuck. Jesus. How much longer?..”

“What, you’ve had your fun already, baby?” Steve teases and clicks his tongue. “I did suggest fifteen minutes. It’s you who insisted on twenty, remember?”

“Uhhhh,” Eddie croaks, wriggling his hips again and slapping one palm several times against the mattress. “Ohhhh, holy ssshit. I regret everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Steve smirks.

“No, I don’t,” Eddie admits with a miserable chuckle and dramatically flops down on his face, ass in the air, letting out a long, frustrated growl muffled by the mattress, before pushing himself back to his heels.

Steve abandons the stupid premise of reading his magazine and just sits back, enjoying the view. He squeezes himself through his boxers; obviously, he’s not unaffected. His boyfriend looks like the ultimate fucking wet dream. There’s never a time Steve doesn’t find him the most beautiful and sexy person in the entire world, but this view, right here… this definitely takes the icing on the cake.

Steve can still hardly believe they got to this point, when Eddie would take the initiative and present his own fantasy for Steve to fulfill. No more shyness about it, just unconcealed arousal and eager submissiveness when they first started talking about this kind of scene, both equally horny by the time they finished merely discussing the details. Steve spent days figuring out the right kind of weave for this; then, he’d just have Eddie kneel on the bed, getting used to the position, checking every few minutes if his boyfriend was comfortable, gradually increasing the time he spent bound every night up to an hour; beyond that, Eddie’s muscles were starting to cramp up.

It took two weeks to bring this particular fantasy to life. But really, they have been working up to this kind of moment for much, much longer.

Read the rest on AO3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #fanfic #misha-bawlins fanfic #good boy eddie my beloved

[guardian5tiger3]

Mental health

+Advice & guidance from spirit

Pick a group tarot reading + channeled messages

*I may upload more groups in a new post later on.

Options

1

2 3

4 5

Group one

You guys seem to be the avoidant types more or less. This could show as you straight up trying to hide from your problems. You guys may have heavy resting periods most likely due to depression. This could make you guys stagnant in life and possibly hold onto things that do not serve you and or make you feel secure but that keeps you in an almost unhealthy comfort zone. This may show up as bad character. For a lot of you it seems that in some way your family has had expectations for you that which you feel you are not able to fulfill. You may feel lesser about yourself because of this and you are lacking individuality, or personal freedom to be yourself in some specific area(s). Im getting it's because you were made to feel like you can't be yourselves in these ways. So real talk. Spirit's advice. If you're already into this term then spirit is saying do shadow work, and what I mean by that is you need to go within yourself and identify problems like these, and you need to want to help yourself get better and do that so you can feel better , because life is not worth sitting around feeling less than. You guys really need to nurture yourselves, step up, take risks, go outside of your comfort zone because even though that seems tough it is well worth it when you come out of it on the other side of doing so. You guys I'm being told you all need to focus on treating yourself the way every good human like yourselves deserves to be treated, dignity, respect, and being told and believing that you do deserve good things and to be yourself. I'm really getting you guys should put more work into self care whatever that means for you. You guys if you aren't confident you need to build yourself up, take risks. Someone specific needs to try dyeing their hair. You need to embrace yourself for who you really are, understand that you're beautiful, and you are a gift to the world. There are other people out there who will appreciate you for exactly who you are. And even if some random asshole judges you, fuck em. Carry that attitude maybe. Peace loved ones. I heard that from California girls 😂so one or some of you like that song?? Okkk 💚 good talk guys.

Group two

* I can sense some of you who are going to pick this it doesn't resonate, so sorry for picking Luna and misleading you, but please read some of this to make sure..

I feel like you guys don't know what it's like to be healed in the way that you should be. Like it doesn't even seem appealing so why even try? You guys. You need to think about this. You feel that way because you do not know what it's like. I feel your pain is deep. Some of you this isn't at base level mental illness this is trauma. Straight up. I feel a lot of you feel unworthy. Some of you don't know peace and you can't find it within yourself. A lot of you might not even notice this about yourselves but you're just holding on. To your sanity , you're holding onto trauma, stress, negative ideas put in your mind, whatever it might be. I'm not gonna lie this is a long healing process and I get that it's a big struggle. Some of you do work and try and it doesn't even feel like it makes that much of a difference. I feel like if that's the case you're not digging deep enough into what's really wrong. A lot of you find it easy to act happy so you don't get the help you need even from a therapist. This is self sabotage in a way. You need to at least let your guard down for yourself. Someone I channeled struggles to relax your muscles when you lay in bed. This is serious. I'm getting some of you feel that if you found true love it would almost cure you and they would take this all away. No. And even if it came in now it would not be true love and you all already know why at least deep down. You need to learn to stand on your own and be truly ok. So you guys even have me concerned. But good news. Spirit came through with some good advice and I even doubted they could do it this well. Well let me tell you all what you can do. You all must tap into the energy of love. You need to feel. I mean truly feel everything that you feel. I can feel you guys have love in your hearts. If you listen to that , every single answer is there. Anything you could possibly need an answer for , it's in your heart. As a healer myself , and I feel some of you are skeptical, but I have healed myself from horrible horrible traumas. At a lot of points this was all I could do and it's the only thing that could have possibly worked. Listen you guys you need to get serious about this. You need to be aware and catch yourself with every negative though, feeling, emotion, and you need to then tap into the energy of love and in your heart you already know what's wrong or right and you need to correct it. You need to nurture yourself. You need to think about what's wrong and you need to tell yourself things like that wasn't right it wasn't here's why , work things out in your head and be honest with yourself. And when it comes to grieving and negative emotions. You can't run away or they will stay unhealed. You need to feel them , be very brave and feel them, that is the truest , rawest for of strength. And trust me . They will eventually go away. I have been through some of the worst things and if you want to know seriously you can ask but there things I'm not going to speak about in caution of people sensitive to the topics but this was the only way to get better for me. Some of you of course can take psychedelics because I feel some few of you thinking about it and I need to tell you if you're doing it to heal you need to make sure that's what you're doing when you're doing that. Like go within. Think and feel ok. Don't just let yourself end up dicking around. Don't worry guys. I see you getting better. Not just at the very way end of healing but every major step I see you all feeling more relieved and more balanced within yourselves. It's going to take time. Please understand it's worth it. Another thing to note is if you're feeling like giving up understand the least you can do is take into account all of the other people that have gone through similar things, and if nothing else motivates you maybe true love can , so think , maybe you can help even one person like yourself and be the hero. Be strong guys. I love y'all. ☮️

Group three

You guys seem overwhelmed maybe overburdened and a lot of you might speak of this like yeah I got this this and that going on and plus mental health issues. So I'm saying you guys also recognize and feel that weighing you down. Ok. Well I got yall. I feel like I need to feel my heart for this reading so you guys I think you need to allow yourself time to feel things. Some of you can meditate but I mostly mean just feel all the feelings and emotions you have and feel your bodies , basically practicing mindfulness about yourselves. I'm getting for a lot of you the more organized you have everything the better you will feel. This could be school or work stuff , or stuff in your home, for someone in picking up on makeup for real. But it will definitely make you feel a lot better I'm really getting that. I'm getting that a lot of you guys aren't balancing out different parts of your lives as well as you should be. Some of you work too much. A lot of you might be like well I can't help that but here's what you can definitely do. You can remind yourself to be more calm and practice self care while you are working. You will then have more fun in your free time and won't feel as exhausted . Okay for some a vacation is needed even if it's down the street to a hotel or literally a day at a beach or lake . Also I'm picking up somebody should go to the theatre and watch a movie. Yep. But overall you guys need to go somewhere that will basically bring you some type of amusement or joy or something. I'm picking up on someone who wears their earbuds or headphones a lot. I love music it's my favorite thing in life but if you guys spent some more time working on your present, real reality Infront of you and shaping it how you want to be. For instance observe and decorate your bedroom , Idk. You will therefore enjoy it more and not feel the need to hide. That doesn't mean stop listening to music worst case scenario buy a speaker but I'm saying this because I'm being told you're using the earbuds as a form of escapism and that's not going to help you longterm.

I also see some of you having to manual do so much in your lives I don't know what I could possibly use as an example for this but it's like you're moving brick after brick and in reality like why the fuck are the bricks there in the first place??!you guys this couldn't be made more clear you guys just have to ask the right people or persons for help. You might need to bring some problems to somebody's attention because they shouldnt even be problems especially if this is a work matter but regardless of where it's happening this is true ok. So anyway for a lot of you some energy is taking form you and you need to learn to cut energies off from taking from you when they shouldn't be. Some of you feel like nobody will care or maybe believe you, and that's so not true but you need to speak really loud and really clearly about what's going on , if that resonates with you. Some of you need lights or more lights for a room. Fairy lights are always good :). This smiley face is horrifyingly funny so Im leaving it. Some of you need to laugh. Come on and break the ego you don't gotta be so serious.for some of you you still don't feel like this is going to solve what's going on, spirit is saying this is a matter of going withing and finding out what you feeling you're missing. This very well could tie into a destiny thing, and I personally don't like to give destiny readings cause... That'll mess it up. So it's up to you guys on this epic quest to find the missing piece of your heart. Ok I'm done. You guys have a purpose in life you maybeee don't expect but you're gonna go for it. Even if it's just a side quest. Alright you guys go enjoy a cup of coffee or tea or something maybe a good book or a movie and I hope this resonates and it helps. xxo💗💗💚

Group four

I'm already getting a lot about inner child. One thing I will say is I'm channeling that your inner demons are like your inner child it is just super out of control but we all started as children so hopefully that makes these things less scary in a way. physiologically yeah there are a lot of ways depending on the issues that you know it requires comparable types of nurturing. You guys definitely want to be free but being in that energy I see something blocking you forward in actually seeing something in an og pokemon game with ash getting blocked .if what I'm picking up on is how some of you guys see the world and your lives that's so badass. Nerds. Lol ok anyway. I'm being told to give you the advice to look at this like a video game. If you're being blocked it's because you're being faced with a challenge and you need to overcome that and you will also probably level up right. You guys are super dreamy like I don't know. You guys must be nerds cause I'm being told to guide you through emotional and mental healing in a rational way. I also see the universe giving you things like level ups or tokens or whatever like in any video game at the appropriate times ,so you must have manifested this because I do this too sometimes when I'm anxious at work I choose to look at it like it's a video game. That's crazy. So the universe operates for you accordingly. This group is teaching me a thing or two bout how things work. Some of you might struggle with anxiety though and you then at those times need to remember to bring it down to earth and breath in really deep a good few times as long as you can breathe in. I really just want to tell you guys people might judge you and make you think negative things about yourself and tell you even maybe that there's something wrong with you but there isn't. There's nothing wrong with you guys. But when it comes to whatever pain your feeling or whatever you're going through you can't hide from it or push it down forever. If you guys want a bright future you need to level up to where you're ready to walk into that. And that might mean facing yourself , which is the toughest battle of all if you ask me. But there will never be a stronger warrior than the one who comes out of that fully intact and better than before. Just remember what you're fighting for whatever that may be, if it's love or justice or peace , or to make evil disappear completely. Whatever it could be.im getting for a lot of you you are on some type of high horse though because of what ever happened in the past probably, but when you're alone you do need be real and honest with yourself and let your guard down. If any of you feel sad a lot it's because you have a big heart. It's a sign of something. You should try to figure out what around you might be making you feel like that that isn't right because it's your heart telling you something isn't as it should be. You guys are strong enough for anything that comes your way . Trust me.

Group five

I feel a lot of love towards you guys a lot for you guys your guides are here and they all wanted me to sit for a minute in peace and silence before doing this reading specifically after doing the other ones.

You guys need to refresh your minds a bit. I'm feeling for some you need to sort of change your trajectory a bit. I'm feeling like your ego selves are assuring you you're in the right direction somehow but there's something you're overlooking that you need to pay attention to.

I'm getting a lot of stress for a lot of you. It kind of feels like some of you guys you keep going and going and you're not moving in the right way or direction or something im getting what you're supposed to be looking at is going to feel a lot easier if you do turn in the direction it's in and go down that path. A lot of you guys for some reason are feeling resistant towards this for some reason it's almost like you're in some level of denial.maybe whatever y'all have been doing seems desirable and you don't want to change and I understand that cause I can feel the energy but in some way it's almost like stepping out of your comfort zone or taking a risk for something better and I understand it's hard to make sacrifices like that but I hope you take this advice to give it a try because just trying this is not going to be as life and death as your brain is making it out to be. You still have problems on the path you've been on and this other direction is offering you solutions. I just have a friend an almost identical reading to this and I bet you're here!! Love you ! I want you guys if this resonates to take comfort in that there's multiple of you going through this and I feel in my heart somehow you are all connected and Im feeling it's a lot of heart connection . I feel though that I'm going to break this into having a second part for a specific group of you so continue to make sure if this resonates or not

I keep hearing you guys are nearing the end of something. It seems that you guys are in some way resisting this ending or at least kind of sabotaging it in some way but you don't realize that this needs to take place in order for your desired future to come in. A lot of you guys I'm seeing should look into how to be more disciplined with your subconscious mind. This has been playing a major role as to why some of you have been in whatever more negative energies or stagnancies you've been in. Some of you need to learn how to not be defensive towards good things that come your way and this ties a lot into psychology I think if any of you feel inclined to look into that maybe. For some reason every ending is a bad one to some of you and blessings are scary. This is all about healing ,my friends. My phone is dying so I'm going to go. I wish you all well

#free tarot readings #pac reading #pick a card reading #pac #pac tarot #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot pac #tarot reading #intuitive messages #tarot free reading #pick an image #pac tarot reading

[ne0nic]

My Personal HC on Tokrev Boys Pet Names for Their Partner

Feat. Mikey, Draken, Baji, Mitsuya, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Rindou, Ran, Sanzu, Kakucho, Izana, Wakasa, Takeomi, Shinichiro

I feel like its time the fandom came together and made decisions on Tokyo Revengers pet names like the Marvel Fandom has but that's just me and here are my 2 cents.

Ones I'm absolutely settled on:

Mikey:

"Angel"

- I'm not sure why but I can just hear him say it. I can hear him whisper it in his partners ear. And also angst/bad timeline wise it makes the most sense. His partner would be his light, his angel.

Draken:

"Bunny"

- I was back and forth with this one for a bit but the more I think about it the more I love it. It's cute and kinky. It's a bit teasing as well which we already know is very Draken.

Baji:

"Princess"

- This man! He would always do anything to rile his partner. Of course I do love flustered, love incompetent Baji as well but I feel like confident, headstrong Baji would be the type to call his partner this both endearingly and teasingly.

Not settled on:

Mitsuya:

I've played around with the idea of something Mitsuya would say other than something simple like, "My Love." I have entertained the idea of him calling his partner "Puppy" but felt it was too dominant for him. But, if he had a headstrong, hotheaded partner he'd call them something like "My little firecracker" or "My little Dragon" (GET IT?!)

Chifuyu:

"Starlight"

-Younger Chifuyu gives submissive vibes and older Chifuyu (especially Black Dragon future) gives major dominant vibes so it's hard to find a nice middle ground. However just for the sake of it I love to think of him calling his partner, "My star" or "Starlight".

Kazutora:

"My heart"

Hear me out, a simple one but- "My heart" it gives soft, reformed, good future Kazutora. Where he finds a partner that loves and accepts him for all of his past traumas and therefore they are his "heart". It's so cute!

Hanma:

"My Little Reaper"

I will admit right now I'm not a hardcore Hanma girlie so this will probably be best discussed between them but I will suggest "My Little-" Now it could be something like "My Little Reaper" that I can just hear rolling off his tounge. And also would be cute and insinuate they are his partner in crime.

Rindou:

"Darling"

My baby RINNIE! 😍 Older & Bonten Rindou have always felt like he would call his partner "Darling". Maybe it started out as a joke when they were younger but evolved into the most loving name he calls them. #2 Best Boyfriend!

Ran:

"My Gorgeous-"

Ooooohhh, Fanon Ran would definitely be throwing out pet names like they're candy on Halloween. Probably using "Beautiful" more than anything. But Bonten Ran would definitely purr something like "My Gorgeous Boy/Girl"

Sanzu:

"My drug"

Or "My favorite drug" definitely Bonten Sanzu. I have absolutely no idea for a mentally stable Sanzu. 😂

Kakucho:

"Doll"

A sweetheart like him would call his partner "doll" I feel he's very classy and old school like that. Be real when you think of a date with Kakucho you think of something sweet and nice like a candlelit dinner. He has an old soul.

Izana:

"Baby Bird"

I can't explain it but when it comes to Izana I just feel like he would call his partner "Baby Bird" I think maybe I saw it in a Tiktok edit once? I'm not sure but it feels right for him.

Wakasa:

"Bitch"

OG timeline Waka def gives "Hey Mamas" vibes! 😂 And I do absolutely love Waka but I can't get over this feeling he would just refer to his partner as "Bitch" I hope that with some more insight into Waka's personality there will be a better option but until then I'm chilling here with this one.

Takeomi:

"Dear"

Takeomi gives "Hey Mamas" vibes 24/7 in every timeline. We love a consistent man! But I do feel that with a partner he is committed to he would definitely just call them "dear" Bonten and all.

Shinichiro:

"Sweetheart"

Ugh! Such a classic charmer! Shinichiro would call them something simple and loving, like him.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev #sano mikey manjiro #ryuguji ken x reader #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x you #draken x reader #baji keisuke #mitsuya x y/n #chifuyu matsuno #wakasa headcanons #tr headcanons #tokrev headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers shinichiro #bonten sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #takeomi x reader #izana kurokawa #kakucho x reader #haitani brothers #haitani x reader #rindou headcanons #ran haitani

[shadowhandss60]

Do they discuss trauma from Tartarus or anything? I'm curious if they explore that.

(You are a stronger person that I for not revealing major spoilers lol. I as per the words of John Mulaney's father, have the backbone of an eclair.

I just don’t want to spoil huge things in case people want to read what I say but DON’T want big spoilers 😂 (I will usually note when I do) lmfao backbone of an eclair, love that

***

Kind of? It’s mentioned but more in “We survived this, we can survive anything” kind of way and also small things about Paul being there for Sally.

I think it’s more in the way Percy reads in this book (bigger spoilers ahead):

There’s a moment where he kind of “loses it” a bit and scares the sh*t out of god and Annabeth says “He can be scary when he gets worked up.” and it’s not said super seriously and they don’t bring it up, but he talks about the way the god looked at him and feels awful about it.

I feel like he was just thinking about Akhlys and how Annabeth looked at him in Tartarus.

Percy always brings up his trauma in such a nonchalant way or just ignores it, and we see again in the undertones of how Rick writes him.

He’s feels more panicked but ignores it and wonders why he feels that way but after everything he’s gone through? Makes sense.

There’s moments where he almost dies and all he thinks about is how it will hurt Annabeth and his family and Grover and still doesn’t think about himself but he DOES say he’s learned he “doesn’t want to die” so I’m happy he doesn’t fully have that “I don’t deserve to live.” Mindset from BoO.

Still, there’s multiple points where it’s like “Okay if I die it’s okay, as long as Annabeth and Grover are safe.” and it just makes me SAD because of course he follows it up with a joke to try and throw us off.

He’s a lot less angry than he has been in the past and I think a lot of that is now having a stable home life, no godly war and also Annabeth helps “calm him”.

He does talk about throwing his skateboard through a wall though…Whoops. (Skater boy Percy still confirmed)

I can’t say much for Annabeth because it’s his POV but I love the way they’re so instinctively there for eachother. They’re just so in tune with one another and I love it.

#percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #percy jackson #the chalice of the gods #chalice of the gods #tcotg #cotg spoilers #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan

[starilian2]

Hi! I read one of your astro observations posts and I saw the comment you made about being very observant of others, making it easy to read them, due to your Aquarius Stellium. I also have an Aqua Stellium and was wondering if you could provide material or a further explanation of how that works (I’ve always considered the same about myself).

🟣 Hii!!!! Nice to meet you!! Fellow aqua stellium!💕✨💜🫶🏻 You're so much welcomed here!!💕🥹

Side note:- Somethings may vary, because I'm telling these all from my perspective and my own experiences so:)

English is not my first language either.

Aquarius stelliums✨

🔵 For me, it's like, I always had different perspective about several things, whether it's religion, spirituality, My own fashion sense, or even my night time routine, or any other thing, like In every fuckin thing, I like to experiment 🥼🧪 and want to find my own way, and what works for me the best.

Because of this I've always being scolded from my parents 😂because, the failures I have to face in the whole process, but it's fun!👍🏼 We learn from our failures in the end so what matters anyways?

🔵 If I talk about my childhood, I didn't got that space, to experiment or anything, because, IMO aquas are honestly otherworldly, ummm idk how to tell you about this in words, but like they're really so "Unbiased" when they come into this world, and their early stages, similar like an alien, I feel like, they're just here to see how a human being lives, and there's no problem in it, but when all people harsh judgements hits them, and like stuff like that, that, people are so much biased and sometimes even nitpicky, they try to find "a perfect image of them" to "Fit in" I hope you understand.

🔵 It's like when someone gets a 'tag' about what they're. For eg. They have a friend and all people (including their parents) give 'tag' to their friend on first impression that they're beautiful, or intelligent or things like that.. so in early stages seeing all this "tag-giving" they try to find their tag about where they stand in others life(and by this I meant the "fit-in" thing). And ofc! For other people it's not a big deal, but for them, when they realise, that people are more then that 'tag' they find themselves that they we're just running in a race without satisfactory reward.

🔵 they really do struggle with people's judgement tho🙂

🔵 being this much saturnian, and the need for 'fit-in' made them feel lonely in a crowd, because if somehow they got a 'tag' from people, now they have to be a certain way, to express themselves, even if they're really that or not, it doesn't matter. And people like scorpios and pisces really pick up on that. Being a fixed sign, they also have a hard time, to break that 'perspective' of them in others head.

🔵 But, all these things, they realise early as well, especially if their parents we're not there, or just they got some space from the mundane life, this thought so hit them hard, about what I've tell you so far. And then, when this realisation hits, now they're really on a journey of "who they're" and are really accepting for whatever they're, and when they do all these, universe also helps them to find themselves again!

Now if you have Chiron there with different planets being aspected by this, then it can firstly indicate that, you really struggled with these all things, TBH and like traumas of feeling misunderstood, and unheard sometimes unseen, is indicated here.

🔵 this placement really reminds me of that movies where a person really don't know who they're for sometime, but when they do, it's such a massive glow up, that after then all people in the movie, actually then feel like a side characters afterwards. People often try to project them onto a lot, and because of their "unbiased" thinking, they didn't understand either what's really happening sometimes, like someone can be too self-obsessed, and they're like "aww how confident they're!" Yeah they do have confidence but they're too self obsessed.

🔵 and about being a fixed sign, they do listen to others and most of the time they're good listeners, but they always do whatever they feel is best for them, because they know what works for them and what not?! And here there experimental behaviour come up, what I've told in the starting that no matter what other's are saying they'll only do whatever they wanted to do. And that's simple.. when mature, they don't even gaf about what others have opinions about certain things, they're like you're good in your place, I'm in my, don't force me to do things in your way, and if someone gets in their way, they really can hate that person honestly!

There is more to it, but I was like this is enough for now😂

Yeah so here it is! My observations on aqua stellium!! Thanks for asking! Because this way, I really do feel heard and appreciated!! THANKS A. LOT!!💕🥹

I pour my heart out in this really😂😂

Thanks for being here!! Your efforts are truly appreciated!!💕💜🫶🏻🥹✨

#astro community #astro observations #astrology #astro notes #astro placements #astrology observations #aquarius #astro posts #moon signs #aquarius season #aquarius stellium #chiron #aquarius sun #aquarius moon #aquarius mercury #aquarius venus #aquarius jupiter #aquarius neptune #12th house

[deathsimage]

Finally Alone

Content: Price x reader (18+) minors dni, afab reader, short athletic reader, reader is a member of 141, reader is a sniper and close combat expert, reader is 20-25

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, language, fighting, jealousy, childhood trauma, age gap

Details: (y/c/n) = your field call name; (y/n) = your name (first); (y/l/n) = your last name

Note: for some reason during the fight scenes I was imagining Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit playing in the background 😂 and when the “good part” hits After Dark x Sweater Weather idk why but yeah. This shit is long btw, buckle up sluts. Not proof read! Lightly scanned over 🫢 enjoy Daddy issues squad 🫶🏻

8:00 AM

You yawn as you wake up to your alarm clock, rolling over to see your Captain who had spent the night with you last night. Nothing happened, just him being there for your comfort. Your depression was setting in and he could tell you weren’t in a good head space, it’s his job to notice those things. You tend to be worse when you’re alone, so he volunteered to stay with you overnight to make sure you made it through the night okay.

The team knew about your illness and your trauma, they could tell something was off when you first joined, and when you finally opened up to them they pieced everything together. They’re your family and they do anything they can to help, just as you would for them.

Price’s back was facing you, he was clearly awake from the alarm clock but he was entirely too comfortable to get up. You begin lightly grazing your finger nails up and down the skin of his back, making him shiver a bit. You giggle at the fact you have never seen him do that, and he rolls further onto his stomach so you would continue to lightly scratch his back. This would eventually become routine.

When he finally decided to get up and get dressed you couldn’t help but just watch the sleepy man, thought running through your mind…thoughts you didn’t want.

You were never protected. You survived on your own from the time you were 6, you took care of yourself and you protected yourself the best a child knew how to. In fact, all the things you seen and went through growing up, you shouldn’t even be alive, it doesn’t make sense that you survived. You never felt safe, ever. It was just part of your life..until now.

Tears began filling your eyes as you felt something you thought you would never have the luxury of feeling.

Safety.

Even in the field with bullets flying at you and bombs hitting the ground 10 feet away from you, if he was there..you felt safe.

(y/n)? You didn’t notice Price was now looking at you, already walking over to sit on the edge of the bed, his rough hand lightly placing itself on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes snapped up to look at him, starting to smile. “Nothing..for once..everything is okay.”

Price gave a sigh and a light smile, confident that he was the reason why you felt so content. Standing back up to walk to the door. “We’re in the sparring zone today, wear fighting clothes.” He said before leaving for you to get dressed.

9:00AM

You showed up in your camo cargo pants and a black tank top, seeing a few soldiers already sparring on the mat. Seeing your best friend Soap you smiled and went to stand next to him. As soon as you approached he got his usual goofy smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to give you that rough weird bro hug. “How ar’ ye feelin today?”

“Good.”

“Good. Price was worried about’cha so I was too. I think he’s got a crush on ya.” Soap grinned like he was getting high off of teasing you. He knew you liked Price, he seen the way you looked at him and the way you listened to him the way you listen to no one else. You’re fairly stubborn, only doing what you feel is right, unless Price says. Whatever Price says, you do it. Although you’ve never had a problem ignoring authority before now..something about his commands were just..right.

Ghost was standing next to the mat, seeming to be instructing the matches. You were a good fighter, you’ve been fighting all your life. Even if you were small, you found how to use it to your advantage.

“(y/c/n)” Ghost barked “on the mat. Men, this is why you can’t estimate anything, never let your guard down, always expect anything. Soap, demonstrate.”

You pushed off your boots and socks, stepping onto the mat, looking back to Soap with a shit eating grin. “Fuck Lt, why do I have to get beat up?” Soap groaned as he got onto the mat with you, rolling his eyes at your cocky smirk.

“Start.” As soon as the words left Ghosts lips you had Soap down on the mat.

“Dammit (y/c/n) give me a second to see you love first at least!” He yelled as he got back up, turning around to find you, but once again you already had his legs clipped from under him. Soap was one of the best fighters in any military, so was Ghost and Price, but you were something different. You went for targets larger men never looked for, so therefore never thought to guard. Before Soap knew it you were running at him, he braced himself to take a hit but he was completely caught off guard when you hit the mat and slid, grabbing his hands as you slid between his legs, making him fall face first. Jumping up behind him, you just walked over to him and sat on his head, causing him to aggressively tap the mat.

Ghost just chuckled over to the side of the mat, allowing Soap to go sit on the bench.

“Okay well if you think it’s so funny why don’t you go fight her?” Soap pouted. Ghost just shrugged in acceptance of the challenge, stepping onto the mat to face you.

After another embarrassing match of you easily slipping by each one of Ghosts techniques, ending up behind him before he could see you move, he was down on the mat face up, groaning as he cursed himself for letting you get by him. Wasn’t his fault, you just knew what you were doing, and it was different than what most men tend to work with.

One of the by standing soldiers decided to speak up, seeming that this small woman needed to be put in her place so to speak. “I bet she can’t be König”

Soap just looked up from the bench “I’ll wager on that. You by everyone a round of drinks if she wins. If she loses, I’ll buy.”

The other soldier chuckled and agreed to the bet, Soap shaking his head “I almost feel bad for doing that to him.”

Your 6’10” teddy bear walked onto the mat, shaking your hand before getting in stance, you both beginning on Ghosts command.

Normally König would be afraid of hurting you, but he’s fought you before..he knew he had to give his all even for this small mädchen who wasn’t tall enough to even reach the top shelf of her locker. It was funny actually, how indestructible she seemed, almost made of rubber. She would get bruised, but bounce right back, and hit you harder than the last time. She had fought to survive this long, her body just decided to keep up with her mental will.

It took longer yes, but you eventually had König on his stomach with his neck between your thighs and his ankle pinned under your arm. “Geben! geben!”

1:30 PM

You let go of König and got off of him, the both of you chuckling as he got up. He gave you a pat on the back, almost knocking you over, before nodding to Ghost and going back over to the side with Soap. Soap was grinning like he just won the lottery, the other soldier completely dumbfounded at the fact that a girl not even 5’6” could take down a mountain of a German man. The men decided to pile out of the sparring building to go get those promised drinks, not to mention they needed lunch. Soap turning to you “you comin?”

“Nah, I haven’t fought the captain yet” you grinned looking back to Price who was just now finishing a cigar. Price rolled his eyes and tossed his cigar aside, waving for Soap to go on without the two of you. Now, you and Price were alone.

Taking off his boots, Price stepped onto the mat with you, a playful smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“On your mark captain.” You beamed, wiggling your hips a bit in excitement.

Once the fight began you almost seemed to let your guard down on purpose, just so you could feel his hands on you; his body pressed against you. Feeling safe even while ‘fighting’.

“Don’t take it easy on my (y/n), I may be about 10 years older than you but I’m not that old.” He chuckled, now having you pinned beneath him, but you were quick to swing your leg back over him and throw him off of you, now on his lap holding his jaw to the mat while holding his arm twisted and pulled to you. “Never mind..” he groaned, making you giggle and let go of him. Mistake.

Now he has you, once again, pinned to the floor. Although this time, your wrists are pinned above your head, his thighs pressing against yours to press them back towards your body, practically having you in the missionary position. You both freeze, looking into each other eyes, his aqua eyes making you shiver the way he’s looking at you, as if you’re his..he could have you right now if he wanted, and the twitch in his pants let you know that he did.

Price had enjoyed your company from the moment you joined 141, loves your personality and the brightness you brought to the atmosphere. He wanted to protect you more than anyone else, especially after learning your traumatic background. He also had..feelings, that he thought he shouldn’t be having. Waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat with a tent under his blanket due to having dreams about you in ‘certain’ situations.

It seemed like hours had passed, but it was only a few seconds before his lips smashed into yours. He seemed..hungry..starved. He craved you and he finally had you. He was already grinding against you, his hard cock pressing a through his pants even through your own, it was obvious that he’s…big.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he began kissing down your jaw line, down to your neck. He wanted to mark you, make sure everyone knew you were his. You squirm beneath him as the electricity spreads through your body, the warmth that felt like fire burning between your legs with want and desire. “Captain..please..”

“Tell me what you want love..and it’s John.” He breathed against the soft sensitive skin of the love bite he had drawn to the surface with his teeth and tongue.

“I want you John..please..fuck me..” you panted, feeling his face leave your neck as he looked at your face intently, seeming to look for any sign of discomfort or regret. Your eyes were half closed, feeling drunk on just his body heat alone, inhaling his scent, feeling every bit of his body against you. He leaned up, unbuttoning your cargo pants, sliding the zipper down as he pulled them off of your legs, letting your thighs go back to resting against his own. Leaning back down, his lips once again connected with yours, his tongue slipping between your lips to dance with yours. His hands found themselves underneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts in his palms before pulling your shirt off, then his own. God…his body was ethereal, like he shouldn’t even be real. His face now only inches from yours, his lips a painfully short distance but not close enough to touch. His fingers slid down your abdomen, tucking under your panties. His middle finger slid its way between your slit. God, even his fingers were huge.

Rubbing his finger over your cunt to feel the slick he had produced from you made him smirk. “Already this wet for me darlin’?”

In response you bucked your hips up to push his finger further, but he just leaned up and pressed your stomach down with his other hand, forcing your back flat on the floor. “Needy little cunt eh?” He smirked, his breaths still heavy. Sliding his finger up to your clit, circling with the tip of his finger before flicking it, all making your body twitch and jerk, he continued to stare down at you in admiration. You were his..finally. Watching you get so much pleasure from just his kisses and his finger made him high, feeling that nothing could ever make him feel this good.

He slid his finger out and slid it into his mouth, tasting your slick, letting out a low grumbling moan, sounding almost primal as he tasted you. “Fuck you taste amazing..” he growled. Repositioning himself, his face was now between your thighs, kissing your bud through your soaked panties making your back arch again. He once again used his big strong hand to press you back down flat onto the mat, his other finger moving your panties aside to drag his tongue over your cunt, up to your click. Making you let out a loud whimper made Price growl against your pussy, the vibration of him sending stars through your vision. He seemed drunk off of your wetness, your pussy in general driving him insane; just as perfect as he imagined in his late night fantasies.

One hand still pressing against your abdomen to keep you in place, the other hand gripped your thigh. Sucking on your clit while working his tongue around it, his hand moved from your thigh to slide his middle finger inside of your wet cunt, making your legs shake at the double sensation. Didn’t take him but a moment to enter a second finger inside of you, pumping them in and out as a slower pace, curling his fingers up against that sweet spot. You only noticed for a second but Price was grinding his hips against the mat, trying to give his throbbing cock the least bit of friction. “J-John!” You gripped the hair on the top of his head as your legs lifted off the mat, shaking violently as you came on his fingers. Pulling his fingers out, looking down at your dripping wet cunt made a fire light in his chest that was already lit, but now it was roaring. He licked at your cum like you were the most divine thing he had ever tasted, sucking at your juices before pulling back to slide his two wet fingers between your lips, making you taste yourself. Licking and sucking your cum off of his fingers made him groan, leaning down to kiss you with his cum slicked mustache/beard. “Come on.” He slid his fingers from between your lips, wrapping his arms under your back, pulling you into his lap so your legs wrapped around him before standing up, holding you in his arms. You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes half shut as you were still high on your climax. He had carried you into the locker room showers. Sitting you down on one of the benches to push off his pants, his cock, so thick, making an obvious indention in his tight fitted black boxers. On sight, you immediately got to your knees in front of him, catching him off guard a bit as he looked a bit surprised as you wrapped your lips around the cloth covered erection, your hands massaging his balls through his boxers, a deep breathy moan coming from deep in his chest, his finger tangling in your hair. “Be patient love..I have other plans.” He looked down at you as he sat you on the bench again, leaning down to kiss you as he wrapped his arms around you to unhook your bra, laying it to the side. Pulling you to stand back up he knelt down to pull off your panties. You pressed your hand against his strong shoulders to step out of them, him giving your bare pussy a kiss before standing up and turning the hot water on in one of the showers, leading you to step inside. Your legs were still weak but you could stand. You enjoyed the warm water, not even noticing that Price was now standing behind you without his boxers, his naked erection pressing against your ass. You laid your head back against his chest, looking up at him with a loving smirk. He pushed your back forward, having your face pressed against the tile wall with your ass pulled to him. “Thighs together.” He commanded, making you quiver as you obeyed him. Pushing his thighs against the soft skin of your inner thighs, he slid his cock between your thighs, rubbing against your slit as he gripped your hips and began slowly fucking your thighs. “Fuck…not even inside you yet and I’m losing my mind..” he panted breathlessly.

Pulling back, his fingers wrapped around your waist to turn you around to face him, picking you up to wrap your legs around him. You both stared at each other like you were looking at heaven itself. One hand reached beneath you as he angled his cock to push inside of you. Fuck he was so thick..he may be around 7 inches but he was so..so fucking thick..

You whimpers, stuffing your face into the crook of his neck as the stretch of your hole was fairly intense.

“You okay love?” He whispered against your ear. “Yes sir..please don’t stop..” you spoke against his skin; pushing the rest of his cock inside of you until you were full, your toes curling at the fullness. “Yes..thank you sir” you barely got out through heavy breaths. He simply smiled as he started rocking his hips, his cock sliding in and out of the soft walls of your pussy. This would be easier if you were standing and his had your ass pushed back to him, but he wanted to hold you, look at your face, take in the emotions in your eyes. He loved you.

His hips began to snap faster against your own, you were finally able to lean back against the tile, pressing your hands against his broad chest as you looked at each other as he fucked you into the shower wall as the warm water ran down your bodies. The mixture of your moans was a song of your souls connecting in such an intimate way. Your bodies finally connecting as one.

His hips began to lose pace, getting sloppy as he was reaching his climax. “(y/n)..where do you want me to cum..?” He panted. “Inside..please sir, I want all of you.” Just those few words sent him over his edge as he slammed into you one last time, as deep as possible as his warm cum filled your cunt. Te sensation of his cum filling you sent you over your own edge, slumping down against his chest. Pulling out of you, setting you down, himself leaning against the wall to let the feeling come back to his body as you laid against him, your legs still shaking as he held you against his body, the warm water washing you both clean of your sticky. His head looked down, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “Glad we were finally alone.”

#captain john price #captain price #john price #captain price smut #john price smut #captain John price smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #cod mw smut #cd mw2 smut

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Thoughts on TBB 3x8: Bad Territory

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Another day, another very short thoughts post.

Pabu!

Still stressed about it being taken over in the trailer :(

WHERE TF HAS ECHO DISAPPEARED TO NOW?!

Okay, I get that he's helping Rex but this is gearing up to be another episode without him 😕

Ooooh! Cross gets to meet Phee!

Phee already knows about Tech, which is understandable, but I'm also a little bit disappointed that we never got to see her reaction to finding out about Tech.

Cross is getting the full TBB lore drop so that he can catch up 😂

Awww the concern from Hunter about Cross' hand 🥲 brothers look out for each other

THERE'S ANOTHER CLINK DROID

FENNEC IS BACK!!!

OMEGA MANAGING TO GET CROSSHAIR TO HAVE HIS HAND CHECKED BY AZI!!!

Don't get me wrong, as much as I would love for Crosshair's hand to get better, I think it would be very interesting for his character if this is something he has to learnt o permanently adapt to.

Always had the feeling that the hand was a result of psychological trauma rather than physical. It makes sense giving Corbett's military background that the result of PTSD in soldiers is explored in this show

Love the slight western twang to the music 🫶

Pit droids are so cute 🥰

It's been a while since we've seen Hunter's tracking skills actually out to good use

Obsessed with Omega's outfits this season!

"You don't like anything" "True"

Looooovveee the creature design 🐊

"Apparently she got away from you too" OUCH

THE WAY THE BOUNTY SCUTTLES AROUND IS TOO FUN

CROSSHAIR MEDITATING OMGGGGGG

Echo would also be a good person to have around when discussing PTSD but I guess not...

THE SHOT OF THEM MEDITATING IN FRONT OF THE SUNSET IS SO PRETTY OMG

I enjoyed this episode. Not one of my favourites, but still good. 🥰

#don't really have much else to say atm #brain isn't really braining rn #but I enjoyed the episode #the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 20)

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 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 12,880

Summary: An invitation takes Horacio and Javier back to Medellín, a city that has changed as much as they have since they were last in it. Amongst the celebrations, can they find a way to reconcile the old with the new?

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Emotional smut, religious themes, discussions of canon-typical violence and past trauma, grief, healing, allusions to period-typical prejudices, smoking, drinking, swearing.

Notes: So, this chapter took on a life of its own and ended up a lot bigger than it was originally supposed to be, oops lol. The initial idea was for this and chapter 21 to be chapter 20, but, as you can see, it didn't quite work out like that 😂

The majority of chapter 21 is done, I just need to finish it off but life (and covid...again) have been getting in the way lately.

After that, I just have chapter 22 and a short epilogue to do, then fin. So, I promise we are very nearly there now! Ideally, I'd like it all done by the end of autumn, but that might not be possible...let's see how it goes.

Thank you once again to anyone still reading and waiting for updates, your patience is greatly appreciated (as always, please feel free to drop me a line if you’d like to, I love hearing from you!)❤️

I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested (and there's quite a few new points for this one, as I ended up doing a lot of research lol).

Chapter 20: Something Old, Something New

Dappled light filtered through the Venetian blinds, splintering across the polished wooden furnishings and along the plush carpeted floor, bathing the hotel room in tints of gold. No traces remained of yesterday’s rain after a warm start to the morning, and the forecast miraculously looked promising for the hours ahead.

Horacio stood facing a floor-length mirror, his fingers wrestling with his jacket and a Cattleya orchid buttonhole until he tutted and gave up. It was the final addition to his outfit: a three-piece mid-grey suit, a pale olive green dress shirt, a bottle green tie and dark brown shoes.

“Come here.” Javier abandoned fastening his burgundy tie, letting it hang untied and loose around his neck. Instead, he took the buttonhole from Horacio and delicately pinned the flower on his left lapel. It matched the one already placed on his navy blue three-piece, which he had teamed with a rose-pink dress shirt and black shoes.

“Thanks. It’s been a long time since I’ve worn one of these. I’m out of practice.” The last wedding Horacio attended had been a friend of Juliana’s, and for some reason, attaching a flower to his jacket was trickier than his CNP lapel pins.

“At least the last time wasn’t your own wedding…which you never actually made it to.”

“Fair point.”

Javier smoothed down Horacio’s lapels, slow caresses on either side, chestnut lost in charcoal as he took all of him in. “Beautiful.”

“Likewise.” Horacio’s fingers slid up to Javier’s tie and worked their magic, managing a knot neater than Javier could ever make. He positioned and repositioned it at the collar until it was symmetrical.

“Satisfied?”

“Hmm, not quite.” He took hold of the length of the tie, pulling Javier down a couple of inches to his height, fresh mint and aftershave hitting their senses as they settled into it, careful not to squash the flowers at their breast.

Javier breathed hard against Horacio’s mouth. “I take it we haven’t got time for—”

“Absolutely not.” Although Horacio was panting as he re-straightened Javier’s tie, the sight of each other in formal wear a distracting novelty. “We’re meeting Steve downstairs in 5 minutes.”

“Shame. I miss Madrid already.”

“Our bed will still be there when we get back.”

“Who said anything about a bed?”

“Come on, we can’t be late,” Horacio reiterated with great reluctance, avoiding the look he knew Javier was giving him. “You ready?”

Javier took a deep breath and picked up the invitation from the nearby nightstand, his eyes scanning over the details one last time.

Juana Marisol Vargas Restrepo

Y

Felipe Gabriel Trujillo Rojas

Con la bendición de sus familias, te invitan a celebrar su boda

(With the blessing of their families, they invite you to celebrate their wedding)

El sábado, 21 de enero de 1995

(Saturday 21st January, 1995)

A las tres de la tarde

(At 3 in the afternoon)

Iglesia del Señor de las Misericordias, Manrique

(Church of the Lord of the Mercies, Manrique)

Recepción a seguir en el Jardín Botánico de Medellín

(Reception to follow at the Botanical Garden of Medellín)

“I think so. Of all the churches in Medellín, though.”

Horacio let out a wry huff to match Javier’s. “I know. The bride’s choice, apparently. Plus, it’s close by for the reception.”

Javier hummed, his eyes still glued to the invitation as if the antidote to the discomfort simmering in the pit of his stomach was hidden between the lines.

“You okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. It was always gonna be like this. Wasn’t it? Being back here.”

“I don’t think there’s a way around it. But at least it’s a celebration this time.” Horacio placed a gentle kiss on Javier’s forehead. “And it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

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After locating Steve, they shared a taxi to the church, where they met Connie and Olivia on account of Olivia being in a particularly fussy mood.

“I think it’s the travelling and being out of routine. She was up early this morning. So, of course, she’s tired now.” Connie gestured towards Olivia, fast asleep in her dad’s arms, before hugging Javier and Horacio.

“You look stunning, love the dress,” Javier said, noticing he owned a shirt in the same shade of turquoise.

“Aw thank you, you all look so handsome!” Connie stood back to admire them then leaned in to kiss Steve. “And not hungover?” she added with a raised brow, rubbing away the smudge of lipstick left behind on his cheek. “I take it I need to thank Horacio again for keeping you in one piece?”

It took Horacio a second to get what Connie was referring to. But then he remembered a paralytic pair of DEA agents slumped in the back of his car, alongside practically carrying Javier to his bedroom, removing his outer layers and plying him with water, then lying him on his side with a pillow behind his back.

Horacio had been heading for the door when a slurred noise over his shoulder stopped him. One that sounded suspiciously like “Stay.” He couldn’t prove it or ask for clarification. But nor could he leave. So, he stayed until he was reassured Javier was safe and sleeping soundly. Then he tiptoed home, relieved the next day to find Javier had no recollection of any of it.

“I don’t know about that,” Horacio said in the here and now. “We were all on our best behaviour for today.”

“Yeah, Murphy needs his beauty sleep these days. Isn’t that right?” Javier threw a wink in Steve’s direction and wondered if Connie’s choice of words meant what he thought they did.

“Well, some of us actually have to go to work, Peña,” Steve shot back with a self-satisfied curl of the lips.

Connie playfully slapped Steve on the shoulder. “Ignore him, he’s just jealous.”

“Can’t even deny it.”

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Guests began to file up the stone steps into the church, the Murphys following once they had roused Olivia awake, with Javier and Horacio hanging back at the top of the stairs.

Their arms rested over the balcony wall as they surveyed the road beneath. There was no CNP vehicle parked up this time, but instead, a hive of activity with guests being dropped off and a space reserved for the bride’s imminent arrival.

“It feels like a fucking lifetime ago, doesn’t it?”

“It was.”

“I, er, never saw her again. Helena, I mean. I secured her a visa – figured it was the least I could do after everything. But she took her kid and ran before I could give it to her. Her neighbour said she was staying with her sister in Peru, but…who knows?”

Javier wasn’t sure if she even had a sister, but he always hoped it was the truth. He always hoped she and her family were safe and that she found the strength to put what happened behind her. But of course, he had no fucking clue if these were comforting lies he’d told himself over the years. It wasn’t love, whatever they had. Far from it. He knew that back then let alone now. But for a short while, they cared in their own way, and as much as their circumstances and jobs allowed them to.

“Probably for the best. It wouldn’t have been safe here.”

“No, I made sure of that.” Javier’s hand dug harshly into the jagged stone, leaving dents in his skin until the subtle and discreet touch of a finger made contact with his own, pulling him out of his spiralling self-flagellation. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t plan on bringing all this up. Especially not today.”

“It’s okay. And it’s not like we ever really talked about it at the time.”

It had been a sore point for Horacio, not that he understood why back then. Of course, he knew Helena wasn’t the first or the last, but he could see whatever they had, however short-lived, went beyond the mere transactional. He’d never seen Javier so worried for an informant, and as it turned out, he had every reason to be. Then, she stopped being a threat and became yet another victim.

“Funnily enough, no. You just took it out on Steve instead.”

A knowing look eased the tension in an instant.

“Could you blame me?”

“Absolutely not. Especially when he was encroaching on your territory.”

Javier couldn’t resist a wink, which caused a muttered “Fuck you” followed by their shoulders shaking in unison.

Once calm was restored, Horacio turned to face the church, the wall bearing the brunt of his weight. “Looking back now, though, I don’t think I should’ve been so surprised by what you did for me in Cartagena and Tolú.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I did the same for you that night here in Medellín.”

Javier joined Horacio; both now stood side by side, their gaze meeting in an acknowledgement of the rich history that existed between them that no words could ever fully convey.

And with the scattered remnants of their past now confined to distant memories they could at last put behind them, they made their way into the church. 

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

A waterfall of roses, carnations and orchids tied together with matching ribbons cascaded a rainbow of purple, yellow and white down the rows of pews. The flowers were supplied by the mother of the groom, who conveniently was a florist by profession. Every August, Medellín burst into bloom for Feria de las Flores, so if anyone was going to be in charge of the arrangements, it was her.

Candles lit a path from the aisle to the altar, reminding Horacio not only of Día de las Velitas but of his and Javier’s recreation of the festival during their first Christmas in Laredo. He was about to take a seat when he caught a flash of green dress uniform in the wings of the church and a pair of dark eyes picking him out of the congregation.

He excused himself to the sacristy at the side of the altar.

Trujillo peered out to the pews as his hands alternated between fidgeting with the knot of his tie and his cufflinks. “Is she here yet?”

“Not yet.” Horacio straightened Trujillo’s tie knot. “But it’s still early.”

“Yeah.” Trujillo nodded and took a deep breath.

“She’ll be here before you know it. So relax. I think we’ve been through worse.” Horacio’s lips stayed neutral for an impressively long spell until he caved.

“My hand was steady as a rock on that rooftop. But today?” Trujillo held out his hand to show the hint of a tremor.

“You ended something once and for all on that rooftop. Something that needed ending…for your father, Alfredo and Sebastián. For you. For Colombia. But today is the start of your future.”

“I always thought they would have been here for this one day. So, thank you. For being here instead. For coming back...after everything. For all those early morning drills and target practice. And for the free drinks.”

They laughed at the fact Horacio was a man of his word and hadn’t let Trujillo buy a single drink since arriving here.

“It’s the least I could do. And if you ever need anything, Felipe, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Likewise…Horacio. That goes for Javier, too.”

Their silence was an acknowledgement that they had just shared an ending and a beginning of their own, no longer comrades in arms or superior and subordinate, but something different again, something equal.

“I thought my ears were burning,” came a voice from the doorway.

“Great way to kill the moment, Peñita.”

“Sorry. I wanted to wish you luck. And offer you some Dutch Courage, if you're interested?” Javier produced a hip flask from behind his back. “A present from Search Bloc,” was his answer to the quizzical looks he was met with.

“Just a taste, then. I don’t want Juana thinking I’m drunk.” Trujillo took a restrained swig. “Any last-minute advice?” he asked Javier, passing him the flask.

“You want marriage advice from me? Er, don’t do a runner before she gets here?”

“Good one, brother.”

“He did warn you,” Horacio added, shooting Javier a pointed look.

“True. Although,” Trujillo lowered his voice and glanced at the doorway, “neither of you might be married, but…you’ve been through a lot together. And I think it’s made you stronger. So, you must be doing something right.”

A wordless nod and one last swig for good measure were exchanged.

Javier and Horacio were unsure if it was the alcohol or something else causing the heat to rise in their cheeks. But either way, they were in quiet agreement with Trujillo’s assessment.

It wasn’t long before the words “She’s here!” were whispered with barely contained glee from beyond the door, and it was time to take their places.

The ceremony, even the drier elements, passed quicker than most weddings Javier and Horacio had been to. It was the first one Javier had attended since…well, not even his own now he thought about it because he never made it to the church. He never saw Lorraine’s dress either, as, unsurprisingly, she had changed out of it by the time he was forced to explain himself. Not that Javier really could explain at the time. But then, it was much easier to understand something was wrong once he knew what was right.

Between Felipe’s pristine uniform and Juana’s mantilla veil, memories of Horacio's Mamá wearing a strikingly similar black veil to his Papá’s funeral came to mind. But once upon a time, they had also stood at an altar like this with their shared life ahead of them, and even though the injustice of it being cut short would always linger, on this occasion, Horacio chose to cherish the fact it existed in the first place.

Furtive glances travelled between him and Javier as they bowed their heads to pray during the candle ceremony and for the exchange of rings and arras coins. It was a silent confirmation that whilst these rituals weren’t an option for them in the eyes of the law or church, their unofficial versions were no less significant. 

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

They moved on to the reception at Jardín Botánico de Medellín in the evening, a place Horacio hadn’t been to since his youth. The wedding meal was to be served under a spectacular orchid-shaped wooden canopy in the centre of the gardens. Tables dressed in white linen were decorated with flower arrangements to match those at the church, and favours included coffee beans and orchid seeds.

The newlyweds sat at the top table surrounded by close family and their padrinos and madrinas, the echoes of war still loud and everlasting given the notable absences. Javier, Horacio, Steve, Connie and Olivia sat on the next one, along with some familiar Search Bloc faces and Carlos Holguín staff.

At the adjacent table were Martínez Senior and Junior. Horacio and Martínez Senior had only crossed paths at occasional ceremonies and dinners, even though their fathers worked more closely in the past. As the war on drugs kicked in, it became apparent the two men had polar opposite approaches to their jobs. And whilst Horacio made Escobar his mission, Martínez took a different path, specialising in FARC operations in the jungle instead. Until their paths converged, that was.

“Do you think he knows?” Javier muttered over the rim of his champagne flute after Martínez Senior’s eyes briefly fell on them.

“About us? Why would he?” Horacio replied into the palm of his hand as he scratched his upper lip.

“I dunno. He knew about everything else. And he must have questions.”

“I’m sure he does. But do you think he’ll even want to speak to us? I already know he hates my guts.”

“He might be pleasantly surprised you’re not dead. You never know.”

Their hushed conversation was thankfully drowned out by Olivia interrogating Connie about everything from the guests’ outfits to the flower arrangements and when the food was coming, whilst Steve caught up with Jacoby.

The tables were soon full of plates and dishes bearing carne asada, lechona, patacones, arepas, tamales, milhojas, concadas, cuajada con melao, fruit salads and the centre piece Torta Negra Colombiana, decorated with flowers to match the colour scheme.

The cutting of the Torta Negra followed before the space was re-arranged, guests spilling out into the surrounding gardens, refreshing their drinks at the various pop-up bars or walking amongst the flowers and trees.

By dark, a dancefloor was unveiled in the centre of the canopy with a band playing cumbia, vallenato, merengue, bambuco, salsa and beyond.

Once the bride had thrown her bouquet, the single male guests gathered to place a shoe beneath her dress. Javier managed to escape the ritual in favour of sitting back and watching from the sidelines. But at the risk of inviting prying questions from his former colleagues if he did the same, Horacio reluctantly added his shoe to the pile. Typically, his was chosen by Juana, which, as per tradition, meant he would be next to marry.

From several feet away, Horacio could see Javier’s suggestive eyebrow and overt smirk, and they were even more brazen close up when Horacio re-joined him.

“Should we pick out rings, or…?”

An eyeroll was the only answer Javier was ever going to get to that question, and it came right on cue.

“Because, er,” Javier continued regardless, clearing his throat and casually glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot, “seeing you in your shirt stays this morning got me thinking how fucking good you’d look in a wedding garter.”

As Horacio was hit with a barrage of mental images and a dry mouth, a large cheer erupted as the next tradition got underway. This time, all male guests – not just the single ones – were rounded up to remove their belts, the idea being that the man with the longest belt was the winner. Of what exactly, Horacio was never sure when this had played out at past Colombian weddings he’d been to.

He stood opposite Javier as they fumbled with buckles, unhooking the leather straps from their belt loops and pulling them off in one swift motion. Their eyes remained fixed on each other from start to finish, an act fuelled by Javier’s last words.

The sound of cheering pulled them back with reluctance to the proceedings, and even though their belts were probably slightly longer than they used to be, they weren’t declared the winners. 

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As the drinks flowed, so did the dancing, regardless of whether the paired-up guests knew each other or whether they could actually dance.

Javier’s next partner was a familiar face, though, who had at least taken a few dance classes to get to know some locals when first arriving in Colombia.

“Is Steve with Olivia?” he asked, grateful for a slower number so he could catch his breath and talk.

“Oh, no, she’s with the Jacobys. She’s made friends with their daughter, Chloe - they’re around the same age.” Connie twirled underneath Javier’s outstretched arm and back around again. “Steve is conveniently helping Horacio with the next round of drinks. He always did have hips as stiff as a board. I had to practically drag him up for our first dance.”

“That…doesn’t surprise me.”

“And what about Horacio?” Connie whispered into Javier’s shoulder as their feet slid across the floor in time with the music. “Does he need to loosen his hips, or is he a dark horse?”

“You should know a man never dances and tells. But…” Javier spun Connie on her heel again, pulling her close so his head was near her ear this time. “I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with his hips.”

“That doesn’t surprise me either. When did you say you were heading to Manizales?”

“In a couple of days.” Javier swallowed hard now the subject had been raised.

“How’s he holding up?”

“Okay. We’ve not really talked about it since Madrid. Figured we’d deal with it after the wedding, but -” Javier scoffed, cutting himself off mid-sentence.

“Now it’s nearly here,” Connie finished for him.

“Exactly. But I guess we couldn’t hide in Spain forever.” As tempting as it was some days.

They somehow made it to the other side of the dancefloor, narrowly avoiding multiple couples before escaping back to their table once the song was over.

“How’re you finding being back again?” Connie asked.

“Weird.”

“Yeah. Definitely weird at first.”

Their shared laughter came like a sigh of relief, a release of tension now they had spoken the truth out loud.

“But different.”

“It’s not like last time, right?” There was uncertainty in her unblinking eyes, a plea not only for reassurance but for honesty as well.

“Trujillo said anyone left from the cartel with half a brain cell skipped town or went underground before Pablo’s body was cold. They’ve been tracking down anyone dumb enough to have stuck around. So, no. It’s not like last time. I promise.”

His tone was soft but he looked Connie in the eye until she nodded, needing the conviction as much as she did.

“I know I never visited Madrid like I said I would – blame your ex-employer for that, by the way – but for what it’s worth, I don’t think Medellín’s the only one who’s different now. So, whatever happens, Javi…”

“I know.”

His hand found its way to hers on the table and gently squeezed. An acceptance that there was no denying traces of the past, as they had already discovered, but a translucent overlay had been placed on top of it now. Whether the two could co-exist in the long run, nobody yet knew, but at least it was finally the chance of a future for them and Medellín. 

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Horacio picked one of the quieter bars, reeling off a list of drinks to the bartender and perching on a stool while he waited for his order.

“Thought you might need a hand.”

Before Horacio could respond, Steve had already sat on the adjacent stool, his back to the bar to accommodate his long legs.

“You sure you’re not just avoiding the dancefloor, Agent Murphy?” There was a hint of a mock interrogative tone to his voice as he turned sideways to face Steve.

Steve held his hands up in surrender. “You got me there. Although…” He dipped into the inside pocket of his black suit jacket and pulled out a couple of cigars. “Courtesy of the groom, if you’re interested?”

Horacio broke into a laugh. “He paid up, then.”

“Damn right.” Steve held one of the cigars closer to Horacio, tempting him despite the conflicted look Horacio was giving it. “I won’t tell Javi if you don’t tell Con.”

Horacio sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He put the cigar between his lips and took the lighter from Steve, hovering the flame near the foot until it took.

Steve did the same, a woody haze soon encircling them.

The bartender appeared with a trayful of drinks and once he was gone again, Horacio lifted a beer bottle and slid it across to Steve. “I never got a chance to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“Stechner.”

A scowl stormed across Steve’s pupils, and he took a quick hard swig from his beer bottle, placing it back on the table with a little more force than intended. “It was my fuckin’ pleasure. You should’ve seen his face. Covered in blood and tears in his eyes when my hand squeezed his throat.”

He swapped his beer for his cigar, relishing in that sweet memory as a ring of smoke hovered above his head like a misplaced halo.

Every now and then, Steve still surprised Horacio. Because occasionally, Horacio caught glimpses of the turbulence that raged beneath the surface. It was a clumsier, more unrefined version than he was accustomed to, but he recognised and understood it nonetheless.

“Not sure I’d have been able to stop squeezing,” Horacio confessed.

“It was touch and go for a minute. But rumour has it, the new Country Attaché, Alana Cortés, and Messina were roommates all the way through their Academy days. And for a few years after…before Cortés took an assignment in Mexico out of the blue. But now she’s back.” Steve toasted the air with his beer bottle. “So good luck to our old friend, Bill, trying to pull her strings.”

Horacio raised his glass to meet Steve’s bottle, although there was an ulterior motive to leaning forward a fraction. “I take it you’ve heard nothing else about the photos?” His words were delivered towards the floor in case of the minutest likelihood anyone around them was the world’s best lip reader.

“Not a thing. But I’d handle it if something did happen; you have my word. Cali’s beyond my remit, but I’d put good money on Stechner’s attention being there now he can’t use us anymore.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Oh, and you were right, too.”

“About what?”

“Javi tryin' to shut me out.”

“Well, thanks for not letting him.”

They bowed their heads and returned to their cigars, a surprisingly comfortable silence sitting between them.

“How was he in Madrid?” Steve asked in the end.

“Good, mostly. There were bad days, obviously. But he sleeps better now.”

“He’s not the only one.”

“No. I think there’s a lot of that going around.”

“It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s that?”

“Being back. Like it was all just some fuckin’ dream. Like it wasn’t really me on that rooftop. Like everyone knew it should’ve been you in that photo instead.”

Horacio might not have been there for the final showdown, but he'd seen enough newspapers and bulletins to know that photo well. The one where Escobar’s limp body was held up to the camera like a trophy, now the hunt was over.

“Yeah, well, I made sure it wasn’t me, didn’t I?” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve had to make my peace with it. And so should you.”

“I played out that moment so many times. Thought about all the ways we’d catch him. Over and over, I let it run through my head. But I wasn’t expecting him to look so…pathetic. Like any other son of a bitch criminal runnin’ scared when his time’s up.”

“Because that’s all he was. But it was real. And he’s gone. No matter what happens, they can’t take that away from us.”

“But now what?”

“Now, we live our lives. We don’t forget, but we move on.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Just as they toasted their drinks, they were rumbled.

“Might’ve known this is where you’d be hiding. Found them!” Javier called over his shoulder.

Trujillo followed behind Javier; his police uniform now exchanged for a lightweight guayabera. “Anything to avoid a dancefloor. Blondie, are those my cigars?”

“I think you’ll find they’re mine now, Major. I might have a couple of spares lying around, though.” Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out more like he was performing a magic trick.

Trujillo rubbed his hands together. “Now you’re talking.” 

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Once Steve had braved the canopy to pass Connie her drink, the four men retreated to a deserted part of the gardens where pine tables and chairs with canvas covering them were dotted amongst the trees. White lights hung across the branches like fireflies and lanterns lined the decked walkways, the party and dancing reduced to a murmur in the distance.

The quartet sat around one of the pine tables, the first time they had been together like this since the old days back at Carlos Holguín.

“Can you believe we’re finally here?” Trujillo asked, savouring the spicy scent of his cigar as it combined with the fresh floral notes of the forest.

“At your wedding? Barely.”

Trujillo rolled his eyes at Javier’s teasing and shook his head. “You can tick comedian off your list of career options.”

Steve sucked in air through his teeth at their war of words. “See what I had to put up with.”

“Says the white boy who needed me to be his fucking translator 24/7.”

A collective braying sound travelled around the table this time before it morphed into laughter and Steve making use of any Spanish swear word he could think of.

“But in all seriousness...no, not really,” Javier replied in earnest after they returned to their cigars.

“Sometimes when I wake up, it takes me a minute to remember he’s not still lurking out there somewhere.”

“But he’s not.” Horacio’s eyes glowed with steely determination, needing to put a line under this once and for all. “You made sure of that. You gave Medellín a future. And now it’s time to start yours.” He raised his glass to the centre of the table. “To Juana and Felipe.”

“To Juana and Felipe!” Javier and Steve echoed as their drinks clinked with Horacio’s.

“And to Colombia,” Felipe added.

“To Colombia!”

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Once the cigars were stubbed out, Trujillo and Horacio were pulled away for a Search Bloc reunion, leaving Javier and Steve to their drinks.

“I was telling Carrillo about Cortés earlier.”

“How did you find out about her, by the way? You never said on the phone.”

“Just some good old fashioned slightly off-the-record detective work, that’s all.”

“You covered your tracks, though, right? Because they’ll know it was you who gave her my intel. Even if they can’t prove it.”

“’Course. Although it wouldn’t take a fuckin’ genius to figure that out. Same with Stechner’s busted face. Don’t think anyone bought it was your handiwork.”

“To be fair, there’s a critical shortage of geniuses in the DEA. Present company included, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Steve retaliated by raising his middle finger in response to Javier’s trademark wink. “But most people hate Stechner as much as we do, so no one came asking. Never saw him around the school again after that, although I’m sure he must’ve been prowlin' about somewhere.”

“More than likely. So, er…no one’s mentioned the photos either?”

“No. And like I told Carrillo, even if they did, I’d handle it, Javi. I promise. There’s more shit on Stechner out there, I fuckin’ know it. Messina was getting too close, remember. I don’t think I’ll have to dig deeper, but look at it as an insurance policy.”

“Makes sense. And thanks, Steve. For Stechner. For the intel. For reassuring Horacio, apparently.”

Javier laughed at the thought of them engaged in something resembling a heart-to-heart. But if truth be told, it brought warmth to his chest to realise the two men could be considered friends-of-sorts these days. Not that he dared tell them that.

Steve gave a lazy salute with one hand whilst the other took a swig of his drink. “Don’t expect that to become a habit, by the way.”

And there it was, right on cue, just as Javier anticipated. “Oh, no, of course not.”

“It was a one-time-only Wedding Special kinda deal.”

“Right. Exactly.”

Javier took a long sip of his drink to hide the smirk threatening to explode into an undiplomatic laugh if he wasn’t careful.

“Any idea when you’re moving back to the States?” Steve asked, seemingly oblivious to Javier’s impressive restraint.

“Not really. It depends on Horacio’s visa. We haven’t decided on the best route yet. I’d forgotten how much fucking paperwork’s involved.”

It was no wonder Javier held such disdain for bureaucracy when the wrong piece of paper was the difference between crossing a border and not. When someone’s life was reduced down to a list of rigid criteria without much consideration for the sacrifice and hardship it often took to get to that point in the first place. It was why he had done his best to help informants get an American visa wherever possible, even if it meant bending rules until they snapped.

He knew Horacio had more options than most – more than his grandparents’ generation did – and they had been lucky with their past visas. But he tried not to think about the fact their future would be in the hands of an officious government administrator. One most likely not prepared to bend any rules in the slightest.

“You got that right. Don’t s’pose he’s thought about law enforcement?”

Javier shot Steve a sharp look. “Hilarious.”

“I thought so. And what about you? Any ideas what’s next?”

“Me? Fuck, I dunno, man. Guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“You’ll both figure it out, y’know.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. You always do. You’re like me and Con. We’ve had our rough patches, several of ‘em while we were here – and a few more since we left, come to think of it – but somehow, we get through it. Same as you and Horacio.”

“You drunk, Murphy?”

Steve contemplated that as though he hadn’t considered the possibility until now despite the array of empty glasses covering the table. “Fuck, I think I am.” He let out a loud snigger before hushing himself. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“My lips are sealed.” For all of Javier’s stoicism, he stood no chance, and it wasn’t long before they were giggling like schoolboys.

“About the rough patches, though…” Steve said once they had calmed down. “Any tips?”

“Someone once told me it’s okay to not always be in the same boat even if you’re in the same storm. Sometimes, you just need your own boat. But as long as you’re trying to sail in the same direction...and want to be in the same boat as much as possible, you can get through it.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but that actually makes sense. Who do I need to thank?”

Javier smiled, almost able to smell fresh churros if he closed his eyes hard enough. “Someone a lot older and wiser than us.”

“Figures. And my point still stands, by the way.”

“What point’s that exactly?”

“You might not have worked out the finer details yet, but…” Steve gestured for Javier to move forward as though he was about to share highly classified intel. “The worst’s over now. We don’t forget, but we move on.” He nodded sagely before dropping his voice to little more than an alcohol-infused rumble. “This is your happy ending, Javi. Go live it.”

As they returned to the party, Steve alternating between leaning against Javier and patting him enthusiastically on the back whilst attempting something vaguely resembling Spanish, there was no doubt in Javier’s mind that Steve was wasted and probably had been for most of their conversation.

But when it came to the sentiment behind Steve’s garbled words, something told Javier that didn’t matter.

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

Maybe it was Horacio’s age or the quiet life he had become accustomed to, but he couldn’t keep up with Search Bloc’s drinking. The aguardiente shots were in full flow when he left them to it, doubling back towards where he had left Javier and Steve.

He made it past the bustle of the bar and round the corner towards a small rock garden with a walkway to the trees lying beyond.

“So, the rumours were true, then.”

Force of habit made Horacio momentarily reach for where his gun holster used to be as he spun around to face the voice from the shadows of a wooden bench.

“Depends which ones you’re talking about,” he replied in a measured tone now he knew the source of the voice. “You can’t believe everything you hear.”

“Well, let’s put it this way...you certainly look well for a dead man, Colonel Carrillo.”

“You almost sound disappointed.”

“Not at all. Vengeance isn’t my style.”

“Nor mine these days.”

“So I’ve heard. Congratulations on your retirement. I’d say that beats jail, wouldn’t you?”

Horacio scoffed as he sat on the opposite end of the bench, his brow flexing at such an expertly delivered blow. “I guess I deserved that.”

“I think we both know what a man deserves and what a man gets are rarely the same thing.”

“True. But you’ll always be Colonel Martínez: the man who stopped Escobar.”

“Perhaps so. But was death not the easier way out?”

“Easier than what? Vengeance?”

“Justice.” Martínez gave Horacio a long look from his end of the bench. “Gaviria was the one who wanted him dead. It’s no wonder you two got along so well.”

“I did my duty. As Gaviria did his and you did yours. We played the hands we were dealt.”

“Yes, and he dealt mine well when he signed my son up to Search Bloc before offering me your job.”

Realisation slowly spread across Horacio’s face, and without meaning to, he gave Martínez a look tinged with pity. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I kept him alive. He was transferred to a new intel unit instead…where he intercepted radio transmissions from Pablo the day we caught him.”

A curve of a smile formed on Horacio’s lips. “Funny how it works out sometimes.”

Horacio was reminded of his own double-edged sword of a path to becoming leader of Search Bloc. The journey began with Javier and a briefcase full of cash being deposited in the lap of General Jaramillo, forcing the General’s greedy hand to appoint Horacio as head of the anti-drug squad and make him a Colonel. A job that was already a poisoned chalice on account of his predecessor winding up dead at the hands of the cartel.

Javier using gringo money to buy Horacio a promotion had been a bone of contention between them back then. Too many heated discussions under the influence led to an argument where “Everybody works for somebody" and “Don’t ever mistake me for one of your whores again” were the last words to hang between them in a heavy fog of smoke, whiskey and undefinable tension for several weeks. During which time, Horacio was even more ruthless than usual. And as if to prove a point, Javier practically became a temporary resident at his favourite brothel.

The hypocrisy of the situation had sat uneasily under Horacio’s skin when he had always taken such a hard line on bribery from the narcos. Was this really any different?

But conversely, if he hadn’t been allowed to build his own force of incorruptible men, he would never have led the operation on Gacha. He would never have ended up in those quarters in Tolú with Javier. On his cot with Javier underneath him.

“Yes, it is. I did tell Gaviria I would bring Escobar into custody unless he resisted. But of course, he resisted.”

“Then maybe Escobar didn’t care about justice as much as you think he did. And there’s nothing you could have done about that.”

“Aren’t we supposed to care about justice, though? And I don’t mean the vigilante kind you and Los Pepes were so fond of administering.”

“You sound like the gringos I used to work with.” A surge of nostalgia rose in Horacio’s chest, and he’d have been surprised if it wasn’t showing on his face. Although, of course, it was one gringo in particular he had in mind.

“If you think I wanted Escobar to be extradited to an American jail, you’re mistaken. He was our problem to deal with, not theirs.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a fuck about a corrupt form of justice. How would that have been better than what I did? So many judges, politicians and journalists were bought or killed alongside our men. He wanted Colombia to bleed, and he’d have done whatever it took to make sure he didn’t remain in a cell. You, Trujillo, Search Bloc…you cauterised the wound that no one else could.”

“For now. I think we both know this was something of a Pyrrhic victory. And not the end.”

“Two things we can agree on.”

Reluctant smiles crossed their faces despite everything.

“I think our fathers managed a few more.”

“So I was told at Papá’s wake. How is your father doing these days?”

“He’s fine. Retired now but relieved the hunt is over. I think he hated watching from the sidelines.”

“I know the feeling.”

The distant drumbeat of the live band carried on the gentle breeze through the garden, whispering like ghosts through the plants and trees surrounding them.

“I may not have agreed with your methods, but I was very sorry about your father.”

“Me too. And for what it’s worth, I think my father would’ve been sorry about my methods as well.”

“I cannot imagine how losing a parent so young would have changed my path. And to be clear, this isn't to be taken as an excuse, but by your own ethos, you played the cards you were dealt, did you not?”

Horacio laughed. “Something like that.”

“I must admit, you were a tough act to follow.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. The level of respect you commanded from your men wasn’t easy to replicate.”

“You still got invited here, though.”

“True. And I accepted the invite despite my suspicions the groom was assisting Agent Peña before his departure.”

Horacio’s jaw ticked in anticipation of the treacherous tightrope he would need to tread here. He and Javier were out, done, without their badges or weapons. But Trujillo wasn’t.

“Suspicions or evidence?” he settled on in the end.

“Suspicions based on what I witnessed. But I think there’s irrefutable evidence his and Peña’s unfaltering loyalty rested with you rather than with me.”

“Trujillo also fired a bullet through Escobar’s skull.”

“Yes. An act I don’t judge him for in the circumstances. And rest assured, I have no intention of reporting my suspicions to anyone. Major Trujillo’s motives aren’t the ones still eluding me.”

Horacio swallowed down the dread burning the back of his throat like bile that was in danger of choking him if he didn’t get rid of it quickly. “What are you talking about?”

“You never struck me as a man afraid of death. And whilst I can understand the ambush might have made some reconsider their career choice, I wouldn’t have put you down as one of them.”

“Do you really think there was anything left for me in Search Bloc? My superiors already had your name on their lips to replace me long before I was shot.”

“In Search Bloc, perhaps not. But I’m sure the CNP would have allowed you back once the dust settled. They forgave you for far worse than being shot.”

Horacio huffed sarcastically despite how unwise it was to get sucked into the conversation. “I can assure you my decision was never about them. And it’s nothing you didn’t do for your son.”

That seemed to be the winning blow as Martínez nodded in concession. “True. We can’t afford to be afraid of death in our profession. But when it comes to the people we love, I must confess…I can’t apply the same rule.”

Horacio gripped the edge of the bench and focused intently on his feet, fearing even glancing in Martínez’s direction would fill in the few remaining blanks. He managed a minimal grunting noise in his throat that he hoped sounded like agreement.

“However, many times, I’ve asked myself why a man such as Peña would have destroyed his career so recklessly, and so close to the finish line. But I’ve been unable to settle on an answer.”

It wasn’t quite the change of subject Horacio hoped for. “Well, for starters,” he began, raising his gaze from his shoes at last, not out of a newly acquired sense of bravery but because he knew he needed to be convincing. “I wouldn’t read too much into Judy Moncada’s Get Out Of Jail Free Card.”

“Oh, I didn’t. I know Peña’s role was only a small part of something a lot bigger than he, you or I could control. But I have to wonder what leverage they had over him to make a deal with the devil impossible to refuse.”

Horacio had no intention of engaging further, but it wasn’t the first time he had wondered about the gap he left that was hastily – and bloodily – filled by Los Pepes. Would they even have been necessary if he'd never left? Or would they have tried their luck in approaching him with the offer of an allegiance? It caused his stomach to swoop if he focused too much on the people involved in that hypothetical scenario. But then he thought of Javier, and he knew with every fibre of his being if their roles had been reversed, he would have done the same.

“I’m sure every man has his reasons if the price is high enough.”

Martínez cocked his head in Horacio’s direction with a creased brow, holding eye contact for a fraction longer than Horacio was comfortable with. “Quite.”

Drunken laughter followed by a sniggered hush abruptly cut through the loud silence. The two Colonels – past and present – turned around to be met with the sight of Javier trying to control the swaying bulk of limbs belonging to his former partner.

Javier spotted them first and halted in his tracks, hoping the dim lighting hid the flash of horror on his face at the sight of two parallel universes colliding in front of him on a garden bench.

Steve apparently was oblivious to what they had stumbled across as he carried on along the path back to the party with just about enough of his faculties remaining to reunite with Connie.

“Everything alright?” Javier asked, fingers twitching on his right hand as he looked from one side of the bench to the other, then back again.

“Yeah, fine.” But Horacio’s eyes found Javier’s in the flecks of light from the lanterns hanging amongst the tree branches and told a more complicated story. “We were just comparing notes.”

“Oh yeah? Any interesting findings?” Javier’s eyes stayed fixed on Horacio’s or the floor for the most part, only risking a brief glance or two at Martínez.

“A few,” Martínez chipped in as he studied them more carefully than they were likely aware of. “Some that I will never be able to excuse or forgive, but I think I understand one thing more clearly now.”

“What’s that?” Horacio asked.

“I always believed there were two types of people in this world: those who rely on hope and those who rely on faith. But now, I see some rely on both.”

Before Javier or Horacio could formulate a response, Martínez announced it was time to locate his son as they had early shifts in the morning.

Their farewell involved little more than a handshake, a stern nod and an exchange of “Good luck.” But it was a necessary formality for all parties. A mark of mutual respect that wasn’t quite an offered or accepted olive branch but at least a truce. And that was enough. 

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“You okay?” Javier asked once Martínez had disappeared from view.

“Yeah. Well, I guess it was inevitable at some point.”

“Didn’t expect it to go like that, though. What the fuck did he mean? Just before he left. Does he know?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t think he’s telling anyone anything either way.”

“Agreed. We don’t have to stay if you’d rather -”

“No.” Horacio was quiet for a second, craning his ear towards the sound of the band behind the large cluster of trees they had sat amongst earlier. “I’ve got a better idea.”

He looked around them in all directions, twice, to be on the safe side, then took Javier by the hand and escorted him along one of the walkways. However, they branched off in a different direction than before, Horacio surprising himself with childhood memories of the layout of this place that he assumed were lost to the sands of time.

“What are -?”

“You’ll see.”

The path spiralled in circles, leaving them surrounded by greenery until they arrived at a softly lit water fountain in the centre. They were somehow closer to the sound of the music, even though they had moved further away from the party.

As they stilled, Javier looked expectantly at Horacio, who was already removing his jacket, placing it carefully on the ground and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

Javier did the same, still not understanding what this was all about, but the look in Horacio’s eye made him want to find out.

Horacio stepped closer, moonlight casting reflections from the fountain, illuminating the spark of hunger glinting in his pupils. “I’ve spent all night watching you dance with half the wedding party.” One hand dropped to Javier’s waist and tugged him forward into his hold. “It’s my turn now.”

Javier’s breath hitched as Horacio pressed them together, his hands automatically falling to Horacio’s hips to steady himself. “You only had to ask,” he said, the smoky timbre of his voice vibrating against Horacio’s ear.

“I thought line-dancing was more your thing.”

Javier nipped at Horacio’s earlobe in revenge. “That was when I was a kid. And you weren’t complaining about my dancing skills on our anniversary.”

Horacio let out an agreeable sigh as he chased the scrape of Javier’s teeth. “No, I wasn’t. But as nice as that was, we were hardly moving.”

“True. And if you must know, the Texas Two-Step got me several phone numbers back in the day. Lorraine’s being one of them. She was more into it than me, but it was actually kinda fun…for a while anyway.”

Memories of Saturday nights spent at old Texan dance halls and barn dances suddenly filled Javier’s mind. The faded aroma of leather and iron rust lingered alongside stale Lone Star beer, cigarette smoke and overpowering perfume as he led his partner across the worn wooden floor in time to the likes of Laura Canales and Hank Locklin.

His gaze would travel around the room – which was easier during a do-si-do – sometimes to make sure they didn’t collide with other dancers, sometimes to give anyone who caught his eye a discreet once-over. If he happened to hone in on a male dancer's tight-fitted jeans and fluid hip movements, it could easily be disguised as admiration for his female partner.

Not that it ever led to any encounters. Not there anyway; it wasn’t anonymous enough. But it was still a temptation. And yet another instance of feeling caught between two worlds: to have the tangible heat and beauty of a woman in his arms whilst fantasising about a mysterious, alluring man from afar, knowing he could never do the same with him in front of an audience.

“Juliana taught me to dance too. Or tried to, at least. She competed a lot when she was younger.”

Horacio smiled at the unexpected memory of them practising in her parents' kitchen, her father watching them like a hawk, glaring every time Horacio put a foot wrong or his hands fell lower than her waist despite the fact she was a grown woman. And his hands had already done much more than that whenever they had the place to themselves. His relationship with her father was the polar opposite of his relationship with Chucho, now he thought about it.

It wasn’t Juliana’s fault, though. And when they were alone on a crowded dancefloor, before his job and life came between them, before he understood the strange, borderline resentment twisting in his chest if he clocked male dancers with a particular look or build, they were content.

One of their favourite clubs ran a cumbia contest on the first Saturday of each month. The prize was tokenistic, free drinks on their next visit, but that didn’t matter on the occasions they came first when Juliana would tell her parents the good news at church the following day. The look on her father’s face as Horacio tried and failed to stifle a smug expression at her side would always be priceless.

“You ever danced any cumbia?” he asked Javier now.

“Some. At parties, weddings, quinceañeras…but that’s going back before I came to Colombia.” There might have been a few hazy nights in clubs and bars over here as well, but dancing hadn’t been his modus operandi in those days.

“So, you’ve never done it with a Colombian?”

Javier’s brow quirked of its own accord, and his tongue swept deliberately across his top lip. “No, er, you’d be my first.”

Horacio kept an impassive expression with his mouth, but his darkening pupils gave him away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

“You know that won’t be necessary.”

Somewhere in the middle of their flirtation, they loosened their embrace, one hand linked in the space between them as their feet stepped back and forth, then side to side, their movements mirroring one another. Quick, quick, slow, quick, quick, slow.

Without warning, Horacio pulled Javier across his body and under their arms, spinning him around with force, then bringing them face-to-face again.

“Lucho Bermúdez was one of the great musical legends here in Colombia. Still is after his death last year. Mamá and my Abuelas listened to him all the time whenever the whole family got together. Do you know the name of this song?”

Horacio waited until their noses were almost touching to ask as their feet subconsciously glided over the paving stones beneath them.

Javier merely shook his head, their legs intermittently brushing together as their hips popped to the beat before he was spun once, twice, thrice until he was dizzy and out of breath.

“Tolú,” Horacio whispered as they reconverged, his lips skimming Javier’s and his eyes flickering shut as flashes of them on his cot in their shadowed quarters flooded into view.

Javier teased his bottom lip over Horacio’s, moustache swiping back and forth until they shuddered, a different first time as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

But they never stopped dancing. Horacio looped through their arms until he had his back to Javier, one hand each gripped at Horacio’s waist. They shimmied sideways, their free hands entwined by their shoulders to guide them back and forth, switching their hold each time they travelled across the floor. Another spin, another brush of legs, or an electric look making it clear which memories of Tolú they were thinking of.

The song ended, leaving only their charged breaths and the evening breeze rustling through the maze of trees protecting them from prying eyes.

Then, the band struck up again, so they kept dancing. Their bodies and minds synchronised as they paid homage to the country that had brought them together in the unlikeliest circumstances, Horacio interjecting with memories from childhood whenever old classics were played. He was even forced to swear on the cross between their chests that he had nothing to do with the band playing Noches de Cartagena of all songs.

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

By the time Javier prised his eyes open, unwelcome rays were already bursting through any gap in the blinds they could find. He craned his neck above Horacio’s still form, his watch on the nightstand reading 8:45am; ouch.

He’d survived on minimal sleep plenty of times, but he couldn’t remember getting home from a wedding past 5:00am before. If he was honest, they were tempted to call it a night once their private party for two ended. But it would have been rude to miss out on the dancers – professional this time – costumes and confetti of La Hora Loca. When in Colombia and all that.

They still had a few hours before they were to reconvene with the wedding party for the ultimate hangover cure of bandeja paisa, so Javier’s nose and moustache brushed over the nape of Horacio’s neck, arms slotting around him from behind.

A serene purr soon followed as Horacio stirred and leaned into Javier’s touch.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

Javier’s lips now worked their way to the side of Horacio’s neck, concentrating on a sweet spot below his ear.

“Liar.” Although Horacio’s whole body arched and his head tilted to give Javier what he wanted.

“Surprised I was awake before you, to be honest.”

“It took me a while to get to sleep…all of two and a bit hours ago.” Horacio winced into the pillow at how little rest he’d actually had.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm, yeah.” He raised his head and shifted so he was lying face-to-face with Javier. “I was just thinking about my family.”

“Makes sense.”

“When we arrived, we were so focused on the wedding. I didn’t let myself think about what comes next. But now…”

“I said the same to Connie last night. But…maybe we’re ready to rip off the band-aid.”

“Maybe. Part of me just wanted to get it out of the way when I was lying awake. But you nodded off in record time.”

“I think you wore me out.”

“But you enjoyed it, though?”

“It was perfect.” Javier closed the space between them, seeking out Horacio’s lips until he was met with a hum of agreement.

Javier pushed his luck, ducking below Horacio’s ear and descending over the column of his throat. Testing the waters to see if Horacio wanted the distraction Javier was more than willing to provide. “And how’s this?”

“Pretty fucking perfect too.”

Their kisses started languorous due to their lack of sleep, building to something fervid as Horacio nipped at Javier’s pout, catching it between his teeth until it was plump and swollen.

Javier retaliated, coaxing Horacio’s tongue towards his with expert flicks, tasting faint traces of last night’s cigars, until he captured it and sucked, long and thorough.

Limbs tangled between bedsheets soon became Javier whimpering facedown into a pillow whilst Horacio dipped and devoured, creating a slick glide between Javier’s thighs, the relief visceral when lining up and pushing forwards.

Horacio experimented with bracing yet measured rotations as he mouthed along the expanse of Javier’s trapezius, lost in a sea of broad muscle. He’d always loved watching the fabric of Javier’s shirts stretch and strain at his upper back, an eye-catching contrast to the narrow hips his jeans hugged oh so tightly. And now, the shirt wasn’t required, and he was the one setting Javier’s skin alight, triggering a visible response to every touch or movement like putty in Horacio’s hands.

Javier loved being vindicated that there was nothing wrong with Horacio’s hips whatsoever. Of being denied any forewarning of what came next from biting down on a pillow with his eyes screwed shut, the only way he could avoid prematurely spilling all over the sheets beneath him. It was a close call several times, calming breaths required to refocus, a request for Horacio to stop or slow down needed before it was game over.

Knowing he reduced Javier to begging because it was too much put Horacio on thin ice, and any more pleas like that would have finished him off. But the throbbing of his cock was in sync with his pulse, loud and insistent, and keeping still wasn’t having the same effect anymore. The salty taste on his tongue as it swiped over the nape of Javier’s neck where the silver chain still remained was an aphrodisiac he couldn’t ignore.

“Fuck me,” he rasped against Javier’s ear.

Without hesitation, Javier flipped onto his back, the loss of contact causing an ache of frustration. But it was replaced by straddling, groping and grinding, propelling Horacio up the mattress until his thighs were encased around Javier’s head.

Now it was Javier’s turn to feast, spreading Horacio with vigour, darting, licking, kissing, leaving trails of saliva, moaning as his cock was engulfed and fingers danced over his balls.

The scratch of nails scored Horacio’s ass as he worked Javier over, lapping with greed, hollowing his cheeks, bobbing his head and switching up the strength of suction, putting everything they had learnt in Madrid into practice.

They pulled off before it was too late, grabbing the bottle of lube and lying supine across the mattress with Javier underneath Horacio.

Javier’s feet were planted flat on the bed, giving him enough purchase to buck upwards with force, one hand holding on at the waist whilst the other roamed freely across the plains of Horacio’s chest, kneading fistfuls of pectoral muscles and skimming over his rib cage down to his thighs.

Javier caressed each thigh in turn, circling and massaging with his thumb, marvelling at how the span of his hand only reached a fraction of the way around them. “I meant what I said last night. About how good a garter would look on you.” His glutes clenched as he propelled upwards for extra emphasis.

The seed was sewn in Javier’s head as he watched Horacio dress for the wedding. It wasn’t the first time Horacio had worn what was a standard part of his dress uniform. A trick of the trade amongst police and military to avoid sanctions for a creased shirt. But it was the first time Javier had seen the shirt stays sitting snugly around Horacio’s muscular thighs. It was the first time he wanted to slip his fingers underneath the neat straps, maybe twang them or pull them tighter with his teeth whilst on his knees. Or as Horacio rode him with his back to Javier, one side of his shirt unclipped, underwear and a single garter tantalisingly removed, the other kept secured in place.

A guttural groan rumbled through Horacio’s chest like he had read Javier’s mind. “What kind?” he breathed out, surprised by his eagerness to indulge Javier and how fast his hand shot to his cock.

Javier choked back expletives at Horacio’s question and the sight above him. “I was thinking something leather…with a buckle…to match your belt and boots.” Each punishing thrust broke up his speech with strained grunts as he spread Horacio’s thighs wider, manoeuvring him up and down at the same pace. “Maybe one on your arm too….and a harness…to go with your hat…cowboy.”

“Fuck,” Horacio panted into Javier’s mouth at an awkward angle on the pillow, stroking himself roughly. Sparks of arousal multiplied with each wrist jerk as he pictured the look Javier gave him during the belt contest. Imagined him buckling the firm yet supple material until it bound tightly against Horacio’s sensitive skin like armour only they were allowed to put on or take off.

Javier’s hand replaced Horacio’s as he let his cock be held in stasis, basking in the heat and comfort of their joined form. His fingers journeyed back to Horacio’s mouth, tracing over it until Horacio parted his lips for Javier to feed two, then three digits inside.

Horacio sucked down, tasting himself as well as Javier as he swirled and licked, swallowing past the knuckles; faster and greedier. But it wasn’t enough.

Maybe it was the false pretences kept up the previous day and night combined with what lay ahead, but Javier seemed too far away. He always did when they were in public, but even more so when wearing a three-piece suit at a romantic wedding that wasn’t and couldn’t be theirs. It was why they still relished the time they could spend alone. And why they had needed Madrid. Because all those hidden looks and blink-and-miss, ‘accidental’ unseen brushes of hands could only be suppressed for so long. Last night, it had spilt out as inadvertent foreplay. But now, they needed more.

“Turn around,” Horacio said after releasing Javier’s glistening fingers.

They lay heart-to-heart, Horacio on his back, legs wrapped around Javier. Javier’s tongue skimmed across the breadth of Horacio’s chest, taking his sweet time working over each nipple, the scrape of teeth causing Horacio to lift upwards until Javier plunged him back down again.

And Horacio didn’t resist, his mind and body in free flight as the weight of Javier anchored him, allowed him to feel each and every nerve vibrate, his arms sliding above his head in complete surrender, offering them for Javier to claim.

Javier plotted a course across any patch of bare skin he could reach, licking up and down Horacio’s underarms, inhaling the musky scent of sweat before switching to his triceps, then biceps. On the left, he mouthed his way along the muscles; any marks left intentional reassurances and promises for their present and future, their bodies mapped stories of their lives.

Along the right, he eased up when he came to the faded scar at the mid-point of Horacio’s shoulder, placing tender butterfly kisses over the blemished skin, blinking away visions of a bullet tearing it open and taking care not to let his teeth make unwanted contact with their past.

He gradually dragged his mouth away until their gaze met, the rise and fall of Horacio’s chest compelling Javier to lay his head on it, soothed by the steady beat and the massage at his scalp.

Satisfied, Javier lifted Horacio’s arms back above them, sweeping over the peaks and troughs of fortified shoulders, forearms and wrists until they slotted through fingers that clamped around his like a vice.

Javier rocked in a pounding rhythm, Horacio’s legs rising higher, pushing Javier deeper as compensation for being unable to reach out and touch. Horacio honed in on the lifeline at his fingertips, the stimulation against his prostate and the safety of Javier’s forehead, all thoughts about the upcoming days put on hold.

But Javier could sense Horacio needed more again. It was written all over the beautiful agony of his face and the silent request in his eyes.

So, hands unlocked to let fingernails brand skin, tug at damp strands of hair and graze over stubble, the metallic ice of the cross contrasting with the fire burning in the core of their chests as they danced more synchronised steps only they knew.

A change in angle caused a slow build of release to skirt the edges of Horacio’s limbs, toes curling as jolts of pleasure transformed into overflowing currents. The fuse was lit, a chain reaction of heat stoking a fire in the pit of his abdomen on the cusp of burning him from the inside out.

Another snap of hips, his own hand jerking his cock in a frenzy, a rush of white noise, shuddering, shaking breaths and a release of molten bliss across their stomachs.

The ripples kept coming as every sound, quiver or fluttering around Javier’s cock pushed him closer to the edge. With one final thrust, he finished inside Horacio, a desperate growl tearing from his throat, the brunt absorbed by Horacio’s left shoulder.

They didn’t move, preferring spent velvet kisses, the world now in slow motion.

Javier concentrated on Horacio’s nose and forehead, pouring everything into each gesture of affection until he whispered, “I love you. And it’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“I love you too. And I know.”

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

They dozed a little too long after wearing each other out for the second time in 24 hours, so Horacio went ahead first, leaving Javier to shower and join him afterwards. But it made little difference to the proceedings as plenty of other guests were slow off the mark, too.

Tables were laid out around the nearby restaurant owned by Juana’s parents, leftover flower arrangements used as decorations because it would have been a shame to waste them. It was a much smaller space than the botanical gardens, but not all guests from the night before were expected to attend. A fact that brought immense relief to Horacio because he wouldn’t have to make conversation with a certain Colonel again.

Whilst waiting for Javier, he worked his way through his belated first coffee of the day and took a bite out of an arepa.

“Is there room for two more?”

Horacio raised his head to find Connie with Olivia in tow. “Of course.”

Connie did her best to encourage Olivia out of her hiding place behind her legs. “Come on, sweetie. Do you want something to eat?”

Olivia peeped out from behind Connie, eyeing Horacio with suspicion.

“Don’t mind her; she’s just a little shy and overtired this morning.”

“Some arepas are going spare if that helps?” Horacio kept his voice low and gentle, peering around Connie until he drew a curious expression out of Olivia.

Olivia looked up at her mother, who nodded for reassurance.

“Go ahead.”

Olivia left her hiding place and took the chair between Horacio and Connie, mumbling a thank you as she ate.

“Help yourself, too.”

“Oh, no, thanks. I’ll wait for Steve, whose painkillers should hopefully be kicking in about now. I don’t feel too bad, but I left him groaning into his pillow. Were you and Javi in the same state this morning?”

Horacio fought down a smirk with every strength of his being. “Something like that.”

“I knew it was a smart move to travel to Cartagena tomorrow instead.”

“Where are you staying?”

“A resort just off La Boquilla beach. Steve and I would’ve preferred something quieter, but there’s more to keep kids busy where we’re at.”

“I don’t know the area well, but it is a nice coast up there. With plenty more arepas.” Horacio directed his last sentence at Olivia, who had already made a start on her second.

She slowed her chewing before smiling at Horacio, who had remembered a trick or two from the younger days of dealing with his nieces and nephews. If all else failed, food usually won them round.

“I’ve only seen Medellín and Bogotá, so it’ll be nice to get out of the big cities for a change.”

Horacio cleared his throat and took a long sip of his drink. “Yeah, it will.”

Connie leaned across the table to retrieve a freshly replenished pot of coffee and poured into her cup. “It’s a shame we won’t get a chance to see Manizales this time. But we’ll be thinking about it anyway.”

Horacio was startled out of his own coffee and met Connie’s eye, unsure how to respond before settling on a silent nod of thanks. “Maybe next time if all goes well.”

“I think we’d like that. Breaks like this are few and far between now we’re both back working.”

“How’s Miami these days?”

“Busy now we’re juggling our schedules with Liv’s. And we still have bad days sometimes, of course.” Connie gave Horacio a pointed look when talking of bad days, choosing her words carefully with Olivia in earshot. “But things are better now we’ve got more routine again…more stability.”

“Sounds familiar. I find being in the same country helps, too,” Horacio added with a wry smile.

“Exactly. Now we’re out the other side.”

“Yeah.”

They shared a knowing look, not wanting to say too much in front of Olivia about everything they had been through. It was hard to believe how much had happened and changed in the last few years, and it was clear everyone was still processing it all.

“How’s your arm doing now?” Connie asked in a hurry, keeping the mood light for the sake of her daughter. 

“It’s as good as new. Well, almost. The ranch kept me moving. I think I built back more muscle than I had before. And I kept up strengthening exercises in Madrid.”

“Wow, you’re doing better than most of my patients. I never had to tell you off once.”

“I don’t follow many orders, but it wasn’t worth my arm – or life – to ignore yours. So, thank you.”

“Try telling that to Steve...or this one here. But seriously, I’m just glad I could help. Especially when I hear you might be making ranch life more permanent?” There was a conspiratorial tone to her question. A question she clearly knew the answer to already but was having fun asking regardless.

“That’s the plan, hopefully. Madrid was always supposed to be temporary.”

“But it helped?”

“Yeah. It was exactly what we needed. And maybe you’ll find Cartagena is what you need.”

“I think we will.”

There was that look again, one that spoke volumes about their shared understanding, even if their experiences were different.

Horacio’s gaze drifted up to Javier, who still wore his aviators until he flopped down at their table, already reaching for a cup and the coffee pot.

“Morning.”

“Afternoon, Javi,” Connie greeted with a wink.

“Very funny. But looks like I still beat your husband.”

“Don’t suppose you saw him on your way over?”

“Nope. I’m sure he’ll appear once the food does.”

Javier was right, of course. A worse-for-wear Steve arrived as the bandeja paisa was brought to the tables before they tucked into huge hot trays of beans, rice, chicharrón, chorizo, carne en polvo, plantain, avocado, fried egg and more arepas.

They ate in comfortable silence, letting the food work its magic and fill them up for the rest of the day, highlights from the reception still fresh in everyone’s minds despite their current weariness.

Before long, it was time to wave the newlyweds off on their honeymoon to Bequia. Their goodbyes were short and sweet, knowing they would be keeping in touch long after the celebrations were over, especially when Trujillo’s parting words were, “I’ll be waiting for my ranch invitation in the post.”

And even through the loud crowd of well-wishers, he managed to hear the mumbled “Cheeky fucker” echoed back at him in unison.

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

Javier and Horacio stayed to finish their coffees once the beeps of the wedding car disappeared into the distance, the majority of the party now dispersed and leaving them sat alone.

“Pops rang just before I left the hotel. Think he wanted to check in before…well, y’know.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine. The only bit of news he asked me to pass on was about him being offered first refusal on Ciro’s and Malena’s place.”

The fact the Ortegas were selling up wasn’t a surprise. Javier and Horacio had spent last Christmas in Laredo again, where Ciro and Malena had brought around a fresh batch of sopaipillas over the festive period. In the preceding months, they had gone back and forth on moving, but by December, they were set on putting the farm on the market in the New Year.

Horacio nodded slowly, his brow drawn tight across his forehead as he considered this new development carefully. “Makes sense.”

“Do you think he’ll seriously consider it at his age?”

“I think he has to. We buy the majority of our feed grain from them. Selling to an outsider could risk price hikes and shortages, or the new owners might want to supply to someone else. It’d be a big gamble. But if your father bought them out, then kept their staff on, used their expertise, maybe even increased the livestock with some of the extra land…I think it could be workable.”

Horacio was aware he was being watched and glanced up to face his audience. “What?”

“Nothing.” Although Javier knew his face told another story. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak such fluent cowboy before.”

“I’m not a—”

“Not yet,” Javier finished for him. “And I never said it was a bad thing.”

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

After every funeral, an additional service was held exclusively for CNP officers to attend. Whilst gravestones were located across Colombia in countless cemeteries, a modest wooden cross bearing a name was planted for each loss in the consecrated soil around the corner from Carlos Holguín.

Horacio had paid his respects here more times than he wished to remember, but he still wasn’t prepared for how vast the sea of the dead had become since his last visit. It was a silent expanse covering the grass for as far as the eye could see, the sole sign of life the weeds and wildflowers shooting up between the rows he walked through.

He recognised some names and could clearly picture their ashen-faced relatives as though it was yesterday when he stood on their doorsteps, hat in hand and solemn expression fixed in place. Others were indistinguishable from the rest. An indicator of the extent of the collateral damage and how long he had been away now.

As he stood in his civilian clothes, he felt strangely underdressed. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to wear his usual ranch attire since being back in Colombia and had returned to the beige khakis and polo shirts that felt like an unofficial uniform of their own. One that allowed him to get away with wholly unofficial business in the past, but today wasn’t about him. Today was about them. All of them. No matter who they were.

Perhaps against his better judgement, with the help of Trujillo, he had located the graves of Diana Turbay and Carolina García Velásquez. He didn't allow himself to remember Carolina’s name at the time, even though she had been plastered all over the papers alongside mysterious references to an “unidentified officer of the National Police” leading the raid on La Dispensaria. A story eerily repeated with Diana’s death.

He didn’t linger at their gravesides. But on those occasions, just like this one, Horacio bowed his head, recited a silent prayer and made the sign of the cross.

“Lo siento,” were the only words spoken before he retreated from the churchyard.

He had done all he could here for now, and it was time to…not forget but to move on. It was time to face his fears and look to the future. It was time to let old ghosts rest once and for all.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

[merbear25]

It's for the one hundred followers event (the add to my previous ask😅)

I know it probably sounded a bit silly to ask for clarification, but the seven threw me off a bit 😂 But thank you for the request!

I went with some headcanons and a drabble since I felt inspired. I hope you like it 🥰

Vampire AU with Germany x reader

He'd probably live in a quaint cottage in the mountains.

He'd have dogs to help ease the lonely nights, seeing as he can't form normal relationships. Unfortunately, he's had this issue long before being cursed with immortality.

Prefers the serenity of being surrounded by nature and only goes into town to buy things for general upkeep around the property and for his dogs.

Would do his best to refrain from drinking from people; it wouldn't necessarily be out of a sense of morality but more to do with not knowing where they'd been. He'd take the risk of contracting diseases very seriously.

He'd come to terms with the fact that he'd live out his immortal life in solitude. Whenever he went to the shops, he'd see couples every now and then, as well as groups of friends enjoying their night out together.

Standing under the street light, watching them exchange laughs, he looked up at the snow beginning to drift from the sullen clouds. He knew deep down that he was lying to himself—he wanted companionship.

He arrived home just as the snow storm was rolling in. Being greeted by his German Shepards always brought on some warmth to his still heart, but they could only give him so much in their short-lived exsistance.

The knocks at the front door caused him to shoot up. He was yet again caught off guard when the knocking persisted—their urgency rising.

Swinging it open, he glared at his unwelcomed visitor. When you were too slow to state your purpose, he curtly asked, "What is it?"

Feeling a wave of fear suddenly wash over you, you finally managed to choke out, "My car broke down and I can't get any service."

When he didn't react to this, you decided to continue explaining your reasoning for disturbing him, "Could I please use your phone? I'll be quick. I promise!"

Stepping aside to let you enter, the smell of your blood permeated the room. You looked around but couldn't find any sign of a phone, "Sorry, but where's your phone?" When you turned around, chills ran down your spine. Menace loomed from behind his eyes; he closed the door without taking them off of you.

"There's one in the other room. I'll show you to it."

Unsure of how to properly evade any danger, you thought it'd be best to remain calm. Muttering a prayer to whomever may be listening, you trailed behind him.

As soon as you entered the room, he had you in a trance; suddenly the murderous intention he'd been giving off was being replaced by a craving for him.

Clinging your body to his, he overpowered you easily, consequently making you collapse beneath his weight.

Gripping at your neck, he was careful not to startle you any further. Looking into your eyes, he saw how they darted trying to comprehend his intentions. Gently, he laid each finger on the front of your throat, tracing your pulse under his finger tips—debating whether or not to give into temptation. A poor soul like you who was unfortunate enough to have troubles leading you to his front door should be easy pickings for him.

Moving in closer, his hypnosis was sedating you. Your eyes rolled back, letting him lick at the intended point of trauma. Feeling your fists, which were gripping at his biceps tightly, release their grasp only increased his uncertainty of following through with it.

#follower event #hetalia germany #aph hetalia #aph headcanons #hetalia headcanons #ludwig beilschmidt #hetalia imagines #germany hetalia #hetalia #hetalia axis powers #axis powers hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia world stars #hws #aph #hetalia au #x reader #hetalia x reader #germany x reader #aph germany x reader #hetalia x you

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Hi! Hope you’re doing well.

I have a few fun questions for you if you don’t mind answering.

First one, from one SonAmy fan to another, if the two hedgehogs EVER became canon, how would you write their future relationship?

Secondly, what are your opinions about Sonic opening about his emotions more often in different medias?

Third, what Sonic characters would you like to see interact more?

Haaaiii!! Thank you so much for the ask!!! 🤩🤩🤩

Oooh, good questions!! Okay, if Sonamy ever becomes truly and fully canon, (once I finish flipping out lol) I'd probably actually write their relationship to be very similar to what it is now. One thing I really like about Sonamy is how they can each be independent, but still love and care for each other. And they've both matured to the point where I think that not much would look different if they did start dating. I think there would be subtle differences, at least at first. Like, I doubt they'd be super public about their relationship. Sonic probably wouldn't tell many people, except maybe Tails, and possibly Knuckles. Sonic would definitely still travel, but I can see him picking up souvenirs from random places for her, buying stuff he wouldn't normally get and maybe passingly commenting that it was for his girlfriend (and then he'd leave without elaborating and the cashier would go nuts haha). Amy would probably want to be more open about their relationship, but I also know she would respect his wishes if he didn't want to. They'd probably spend most of their dates in secluded areas, probably out in nature, in the mountains or in the middle of a flower field, far away from society and cities. He'd probably take her with him on more of his runs. But yeah. 🥰💙🩷

I keep meaning to make a post with a list of Sonamy headcanons along those lines haha. 😂🥰

I LOVE when Sonic gets to express his emotions more!! I totally get that they can't have him be overly emotional, that makes sense with his personality. (Besides when he's being a drama king over silly matters 😂) But like, getting in his head during the Metal Virus arc and seeing him start to stress and overthink things after days of infection and no sleep, seeing him have a breakdown in the first live action movie after being alone for so long, seeing him panic, seeing him display symptoms of PTSD and trauma in Prime, I've honestly been loving getting to see him be more vulnerable. He's still a hero, he'll always be a hero, but his falterings and doubts make him feel a lot more true to life. I love it!

The main duo that comes to mind that I REALLY want to see interact is Shadow and Whisper! I actually ship them, as does my bestie, but also I just really want to see their dynamic, what with how they both have trauma, both have experience with loss, and their lives have indirectly intersected. I want to see how they'd talk to each other, how they'd interact.

I also wanna see Sonic and Tangle just doing stupid stuff together. �� They make such a chaotic sibling duo, they're both suckers for reckless adventure, I can just see them going cliff diving and stuff together while all their friends facepalm. 😂

Thanks so much for the ask!! I'm doing pretty well, I've been sick but I'm not feeling too horrible. 😁 I also just had a Sonic energy drink and feel like vibrating into the atmosphere. 🤣 I hope you're doing well too!! 💙

#asks #ask answered #thank you for the ask! #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #shadow the hedgehog #whisper the wolf #amy rose #sonic x amy #headcanons #sonic and emotions #sonic prime #sonic idw #metal virus #tangle the lemur #sonic movie #essycogany

[cutepresea]

So the collab does in fact involve a completely new Kanade, Hibiki, and Tsubasa from a parallel world where the technology behind Symphogears and Rider Gear both exist. Their stories are similar to their main counterparts, but slightly different for obvious reasons. The first half is up for now, but the second half should be up on a later date.

Two years ago, Kanade and Tsubasa were waiting for the Rider Gear but Orphe-Noise showed up. Tsubasa wanted to wait a bit longer, but Kanade used her Symphogear anyway, despite knowing she's at her limit using it.

After a fight, Kanade's Gear backfired and powered down, but Hibiki showed up delivering the Faiz Gear. Kanade failed to use it so she had to use her Symphogear again instead but then Hibiki ended up getting hit by an attack trying to get out of the way.

Tsubasa: Tachibana! Hang in there, Tachibana!

Kanade: So this is it, huh?

Tsubasa: ?! Kanade! What are you doing?! You can't be...

Kanade: ......Tsubasa, I've seen it. There's a flame inside you. It used to be so small, but now it burns intensely. So...don't give up on living!

Kanade used her Superb Song and died. Meanwhile Hibiki ended up with a shard of Gungnir embedded in her chest

In the present, Tsubasa is the leader of the Human Liberation Army. Other members are Ryoko, Yumi, Kuriyo, Shiori, Tomosato, Fujitaka, Ogawa and of course Hibiki fighting alongside them as Kaixa. Genjuro has been presumed dead after going missing while fighting Orphe-Noise and Tsubasa can't even use her Gear anymore due to all the times she's gotten hurt in fights as well as the trauma of seeing Kanade die right in front of her.

Everyone wonders why Hibiki can use the Kaixa Gear when Kanade failed to use the Faiz Gear, but not even Ryoko can figure it out, hypothesizing that maybe the powers of the relic in her chest and the Kaixa Gear are combining in some way.

Yumi starts talking about how on top of Faiz and Kaixa, Delta is also supposed to be a thing (and wishes she could be a Rider, so she can be like an anime protagonist. Kuriyo: "Isn't that less anime and more tokusatsu?" 😂)

Hibiki thinks it would be nice if there were three Riders, but for now she'll have to do the best she can, on Kanade's behalf. Tsubasa gets upset for a moment thinking she means she wants to replace Kanade, but Hibiki assures her she didn't mean it that way. Afterward they get an alert that there are Orphe-Noise so Hibiki leaves to fight.

Tsubasa (thinking): Tachibana...why was it you? Why were you the one who was left Kanade's power? .......Why wasn't it me instead?

After Hibiki takes out the Noise, everyone from the Liberation Army shows up to see her but then...

Genjuro shows up. Everyone is surprised because they thought he was dead. They're happy to see him but he says "You're the same as always...so stupid it's astonishing" and puts on the Delta Gear and...

He calls them stupid a bit more, telling them that "Kamen Riders aren't some saviors. Users of Rider Gears carry the power of the Orphnoch. An evolution of humanity which has transcended death..."

He starts fighting Hibiki, but she refuses to fight, and the others keep shouting at him "This isn't you! Come to your senses! Wake up!" Genjuro decides he doesn't need the Delta Gear to take her and hits her until she falls. Tsubasa decides she's seen enough.

Tsubasa: "Some evolution! You've completely lost your human heart, you've DEvolved!"

Genjuro: "Heh, should you really be the one saying that, considering you can't use a Symphogear anymore? Tsubasa Kazanari, wouldn't that make you the one who's devolved?"

Before leaving, Genjuro informs them that the Orphnoch King is none other than...Fudou Kazanari.

Later, Hibiki is asleep while the others discuss what just happened.

Ryoko tells them that while Orphe-Noise normally turn anything they touch to ash, there are some humans who have adapted to this power, die, and come back to life, now with the power of Orphe-Noise--"Orphnoch"

Ogawa and Fujitaka come back in with intel that the Orphnochs have an organization called Smart Brain, which was formed with the intention of wiping out humanity, and that their leader is, in fact, Fudou Kazanari as Genjuro claimed before.

Everyone has a hard time accepting this, since the Kazanaris are sentinels who protect mankind and yet here are a couple of them trying to destroy everyone.

Yumi tries to stay cheerful, saying that Kamen Rider will save them, but that's Kuriyo's breaking point. "Stop saying such careless nonsense! To hell with Kamen Rider! The Commander almost killed Bikki after he transformed!"

Then Shiori pipes in: "He said it himself, that Kamen Riders aren't saviors--that power of evolution is only allowed to Orphnochs. And if that's true, then Tachibana-san is also..."

...So Hibiki was awake and heard everything. She thinks they all think less of her now and runs off. Tsubasa gets mad at the others, "How much blood has Tachibana shed for us up until now?!" And they apologize. They never meant to point fingers at her, they're just anxious after what happened with Genjuro.

Afterward Tsubasa goes to the place where Kanade died, asking what she should do, the Liberation Army is falling apart and the burden of leadership is becoming too heavy for her. Hibiki comes up and says that she also comes to this place to talk to Kanade sometimes when things get tough.

Tsubasa tries to apologize to Hibiki for before, but she says it's not something she really has to apologize for. But she still apologizes and admits to Hibiki that she's been envious of her this whole time since she hasn't been able to fight, and on top of that her grandfather is the leader of their enemy. She feels completely worthless because of this.

To which Hibiki replies that she's also been troubled, that she's been suppressing her weakness this whole time, fighting desperately, but against the Commander, she couldn't even give it her all. She wondered if it would've been easier if she had just died together with Kanade that day, but then she remembered the words Kanade said back then.

Tsubasa: "Don't give up on living"

Hibiki: "Right, those words. And so I'll keep fighting without giving up. Even if I really am an Orphnoch, I'll still keep fighting for humanity, not giving up until the very end."

Before trying to leave Tsubasa says, "Tachibana, you're human. You're Kanade's successor...and you're our hero" and thanked her because talking helped her get over things a bit. Hibiki insists on going with her but Tsubasa refuses at first, telling her to go back to the others, but Hibiki goes "We're friends right?" "...Friends? Yes, that's right." "Then we should walk side by side, shouldn't we?"

So they leave together.

And then

#cupre's random stuff

[the-authoress-writes]

Family

(AKA some of my Tom “Iceman” Kazansky headcanons)

Warnings: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky’s father’s A+ parenting (not), mentions of cancer.

Author’s Note: This was instigated by @callsign-skydancer, after she sent me a very insightful message, and I just had to go with it, until, voilà, I churned this out in an hour and a half.

I’ve had these headcanons for a while now, but it’s because of Sky that I decided to get them down.

I’ll be using these in some later stories, so if you see some copy-pasting, you didn’t see anything, self-plagiarism doesn’t count, 😂.

I have no idea if this makes any sense, I wrote this in what I feel is a weird tense, but I have to get this out of my head, so I can finish “Wherever You Go”.

Enough of the Authoress talking, here we go!

Family has a great deal of meaning for Thomas Kazansky.

It affects and has affected him in more ways than one, and it continues to influence and shape him.

It was why he joined the Navy.

Most people assume that his father was Navy, because they hear higher-ranking officers whisper “He’s related to Kazansky” or things like that, but they’d be wrong.

His father was not Navy.

His father is Dr. Vasily Kazansky, a prominent Honolulu cardiologist, who detests all things military, who wanted nothing but for Tom to follow in his footsteps, demanding utmost academic excellence in preparation for medical school, creating a habit drilled into him that carried over into Tom’s service.

His grandfather, however, was Captain Sergei Kazansky, a highly decorated US Navy officer who served during World War II.

As a child, during visits to his Dedushka Sergei and Babusya Anya, young Thomas could be found in his grandfather’s arms, listening wide-eyed to Sergei’s stories of his time in the Navy.

It was Sergei Kazansky who instilled in Tom a love of country, and the desire to serve.

Tom’s decision to join the Navy and attend Annapolis was what drove a final wedge between Tom and his father, who detested the military for taking his father, Sergei, from him, in more ways than one, both physically, and emotionally, Sergei not knowing back then how to handle his trauma.

It was his grandfather who pinned the Lieutenant Junior Grade bars on his uniform, and Tom will never admit it, but he had tears in his eyes when Sergei embraced him and whispered in his ear, “Я так горжусь тобой, Томас,” words his own father never said to him.

It broke his heart when Sergei died of lung cancer three months before he was slated to attend TOPGUN.

But his memories and the lessons his Dedushka taught him would stay with him forever.

Most people would never assume that Tom “Iceman” Kazansky would have an artistic bone in his body, but they would be absolutely wrong.

One of Tom’s best kept secrets was that he is a very accomplished pianist.

He was taught by his mother, Yelena, how to play the piano, and music ran in her family, her own father, Oleg, having been a violinist with the USSR State Symphony Orchestra, before his defection to America.

Tom’s fondest memories of his mother are of afternoons spent with Yelena teaching him to play the piano, after dragging him from his homework, which enabled him to play Chopin at twelve, followed by the two of them listening to recordings of classical music, some of them featuring his grandfather Oleg’s playing, his father’s long hours at work enabling this time away from studying without censure.

One of his most prized possessions is a vinyl record which he inherited from his mother, of Shostakovich’s “Leningrad Symphony”, where his grandfather Oleg can be heard playing second chair violin.

In general, Tom’s favorite pieces to play are Chopin, but depending on his mood, what he plays varies.

When he’s at his most neurotic, Bach comes easier, the precision required to play those pieces giving his mind something to fixate on.

When he’s upset or angry, he hammers away at Scriabin, and some pieces of Rachmaninov, like “Prelude in G Minor (Op. 23 No. 5)” and “Prelude in C Sharp Minor (Op. 3 No. 2)” and Beethoven’s “Piano Sonata No. 8 in C Minor (Pathétique)”.

When he’s feeling a little drifty, he goes for Satie and Debussy, or “The Lark” by Glinka and Balakirev.

When he’s happy, Chopin’s “Heroic” polonaise is a must.

When he’s lonely, Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 20 in C Sharp Minor (Posthumous)” is a standby, because of how it reminds him there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.

He’s proud to say he can play his dream piece from his early high school years, Liszt’s transcription of “La Campanella”, though he still thinks he can get it just a little bit faster.

His most recent dream pieces are Rachmaninov’s “Piano Concerto No. 2”, and Liszt’s “Rondo Fantastique (El Contrabandista)”.

It’s because of him that Bradley is as good a pianist as he is, having been the Baby Goose’s teacher on the instrument.

He wishes Bradley would show off the classical pieces he knows more than his rendition—great as it is—of “Great Balls of Fire”.

Family has shaped Thomas Kazansky for better and for worse—there are still days he can hear his father telling him an A- wasn’t going to get him into any half decent Ivy League, or that he had to try harder, that his best needed to be better, and those are the days he plays Bach, or Scriabin, Rachmaninov, and Beethoven—but it was also what made him who he was, what led him to what he loves doing, and what led him to the family he chose.

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

#i wrote this instead of sleeping #please be kind #bahaha 🤣 #top gun #top gun headcanon #top gun headcanons #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky

[harrywavycurly]

I miss dad Steddie and pregnant reader 🥺

Hiiii babes!! Have no fear dad Steddie is hereeee!! I hope you enjoy these extremely random ass conversations and also…I still don’t know this baby’s name okay? So don’t ask😂🙈💖

-friendly reminder in this Steddie relationship Eddie and Steve bicker like they’ve been married for thousands of years andddd the baby is a boy(nameless still lol)✨

- find all things Dad Steddie here

*sometimes Steve and Eddie just need you to make them hug*

“Munson you can’t be fucking serious right now.” “Uh yeah Harrington I am…why? You don’t think it’s a good idea?” “No I don’t think making our son sleep in the living room is a good idea. He has a nursery.” “But she’s always in the living room…she likes the couch so it makes sense for him to chill in here too…he’ll be all lonely in the nursery.” “He will be asleep most of the time he’s in there so he..won’t know he’s alone.” “He’ll know…” “I agree he’ll know.” “Baby…don’t agree with him it only encourages him.” “But maybe not the living room Eddie how about we just put the crib in our room for now? Then when he’s older he can go in his nursery?” “I can compromise with that sweetheart.”

“That’s it…separate corners of the living room right now.” “Baby he totally started it…” “I don’t care who started it Eddie I’m finishing it…Steve you can’t tell Eddie how to dress the baby it’s his son too…Eddie you can’t keep calling Steve an evil stepmom when you’re mad, it’s rude….now both of you apologize.” “Sorry Harrington…you’re not an evil stepmom…” “and…” “and you’re not even a stepmom you’re a dad…and uh a..good one..too.” “What do you say to that Steve?” “Thanks…uhm you can dress him however you want but just please at least make it match.” “Steven…” “sorry I mean it doesn’t have to match..you’re allowed to dress him…and uhm..uh..yeah you’re a good dad…as well.” “Eddie what do you say to Steve?” “Thanks Harrington…” “now hug” “you’re still an asshole Munson.” “Yeah yeah and you’re still an airhead Harrington.”

“You think he’s gonna need therapy because of all this?” “By all this do you mean your long hair and active choice to still wear a leather jacket that doesn’t even have a zipper?” “Yeah Harrington I’m just so worried how my fashion choices are gonna cause our son to have trauma surrounding fake leather.” “I knew it was fake.” “How have I not smothered you in your sleep yet?” “I ask myself that every morning when I wake up….but really why would he need therapy?” “He has two dads and a mom and doesn’t know which one of us is his actual dad…” “I mean…he’s in family that loves him so I think he’s got it better than a lot of other kids.” “That’s true…” “and if he does need therapy then okay we get him therapy it’s not a big deal…” “i must be sleep deprived because everything you said made sense…”

#Steddie conversations #steddie x pregnant!reader #dad Steddie convos #steddie x fem!reader #steddie x you #steddie x reader fluff #steddie x reader #steddie x y/n #dad steve harrington #dad eddie munson #Dad Steddie #dad!steve harrington #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson and steve harrington #steddie fluff #Steddie series #Steddie #eddie munson #Steve Harrington #my little dungeon master baby #my little fluffy haired baby #Steddie talks

[musicky]

I finished All the Hidden Paths by Foz Meadows. So good. I loved it.

You know that vibe from A Taste of Gold and Iron that’s just “you two are such fucking idiots about each other”? THEY ARE JUST SUCH FUCKING IDIOTS ABOUT EACH OTHER and I love it.

Spoilers under the cut.

(Although the spoilers are more vibes than specific plot points honestly.)

So. The end of my copy of A Strange and Stubborn Endurance had a snippet of this and it was enough for me to know that the plot line was going to include attempts at seducing one or both of the boys into an affair. (This is barely even a spoiler - that’s the prologue.)

I was NERVOUS. I hate “are they cheating oh no what do i do” plots. I hate when there’s chapters and chapters of angst and drama that could be solved by a simple fucking conversation. I spend the whole time frustrated and annoyed and yelling at the book “JUST FUCKING TALK” and that’s not a pleasant reading experience for me.

Foz did not do this, and I could not be more grateful. From Moment 1, these two idiots trust each other and care about each other more than anything else in the world (okay yes except for Markel, WE KNOW VEL). At no point do either of them actually think the other did anything. They both worry that the other will think they did, but there is never any doubt or suspicion or mistrust.

And I loved it. It makes the story so much more compelling. These two ADORE each other (btw Vel is HILARIOUSLY oblivious to his own feelings like I mean SAME babes, but COME ON) and they trust each other and if you take that away, then WHAT IS THE POINT OF THE STORY.

I cannot even begin to express how glad I am that my yelling about this book (to my dog) was “SEE? Do you see how PERFECT THEY ARE TOGETHER???” and not begging fictional characters to talk to each other. That’s a stupid conflict to have in a story. It’s cheap, you can do better.

Do they have trouble communicating? Yes, absolutely. Does it make perfect sense for their personalities, their histories, their traumas? YES. Was I so fucking glad that Markel looked at Cae and said “you shouldn’t have left him” because Cae is a damn idiot? YES.

This is a LOVE STORY, not because they had to contend with accusations of infidelity, but because, in every single fucking moment, both of them knew with 100% certainty that this man who they love would not do that to them.

The trust, the loyalty, the honor, the respect, the pure honest CARE is important and meaningful. Even Vel, who has only known shitty, toxic relationships, is a good man and a good husband and that is important. He tries, he wants to be, he works hard at it.

Like, that poor man gets bitchy with his husband and realizes UM SHIT I can’t just walk out and see what happens WHAT DO I DO and then he does his best. That’s what you do, Vel. Your best.

(Markel’s “bold of you to assume that Velasin has ever been wrong” was PRICELESS)

The love confession was glorious. GLORIOUS.

(Side note, CAE LIKES SMART MEN and I love him for it.)

As someone who doesn’t do the politics and people shit either, I love EVERY second of Vel figuring shit out and asking questions and staying calm until it’s worth losing his shit, and I adore Cae just sitting there, watching him and being like “I have never wanted anything more in my life than I want you right now”. GOOD FOR YOU CAE GET YOUR MAN.

I’ll need a reread because plot points blur together for me until I get a second time through, but I’m basically ready to flip back to the front and start right now 😂

Also, apparently I love a good “oh no, this stranger I’m stuck with every minute of every day is really hot and I want to jump his bones” (both of these stories and AToGaI, THANKS FOZ AND ALEX) so that was also fun.

They’re adorable and stupid and I love them.

#all the hidden paths #a strange and stubborn endurance #foz meadows #bookblr #and of course I had to mention #a taste of gold and iron #because Alex rewrote my fucking brain chemistry #I’m fine #I promise