#Stay In Costa Rica

[itineraryblog]

Discover the Best Area to Stay in Costa Rica: A Traveler’s Paradise Awaits

Costa Rica, the gem of Central America, is a country that never fails to enchant its visitors with its rich biodiversity, stunning landscapes, and the warm hospitality of its people. Whether you are an adventurer at heart, a beach lover, or someone seeking tranquility amidst nature, Costa Rica has something unique to offer. But with so many incredible places to explore, finding the perfect spot to stay can be overwhelming. Let’s dive into some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica and uncover why this destination should be at the top of your travel list.

Why visit Costa Rica?

Diverse Ecosystems: Costa Rica is home to a remarkable array of ecosystems, from tropical rainforests and cloud forests to arid plains and coastal regions. This diversity means you can experience a wide range of flora and fauna, often within a short distance of each other.

Adventure and Thrills: For those who crave adventure, Costa Rica is a playground. Zip-lining through the jungle canopy, white-water rafting down raging rivers, hiking up active volcanoes, and surfing on world-renowned beaches are just a few of the adrenaline-pumping activities you can enjoy.

Wildlife Galore: Costa Rica’s commitment to conservation has made it a haven for wildlife. Here, you can encounter monkeys swinging through the trees, sloths lounging in the canopy, colorful toucans, and even elusive jaguars. The sheer abundance of wildlife is one of the country’s biggest draws.

Cultural Richness: The Pura Vida lifestyle, which translates to “pure life,” embodies the Costa Rican approach to living. It’s about enjoying life’s simple pleasures, being in the moment, and embracing a stress-free attitude. The friendly and welcoming nature of the Ticos (Costa Ricans) adds a special charm to your travel experience.

Best Areas to Stay in Costa Rica

1. Arenal: For an adventure-filled stay, Arenal is your go-to destination. The imposing Arenal Volcano, lush rainforests, and rejuvenating hot springs make this area a must-visit. La Fortuna, the nearby town, serves as a convenient base for exploring the region’s natural wonders.

2. Monteverde: Known for its stunning cloud forests, Monteverde is a haven for nature enthusiasts. The Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve offers incredible hiking trails and the chance to see unique wildlife species. This area is perfect for those who appreciate cooler climates and serene landscapes.

3. Manuel Antonio: Combining beautiful beaches with rich rainforest, Manuel Antonio is a top choice for many travelers. The Manuel Antonio National Park is famous for its diverse wildlife and scenic beauty. Whether you’re lounging on the beach or hiking through the forest, this area has it all. Continue Reading

Are you ready to learn more about the best areas to stay in Costa Rica? Click Continue Reading to discover detailed insights and plan your dream vacation today!

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FAQs: Best Areas to Stay in Costa Rica

1. What are the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for first-time visitors?

For first-time visitors, some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica include Tamarindo, Arenal, Manuel Antonio, and Monteverde. These regions offer a great mix of natural beauty, adventure activities, and convenient amenities.

2. What is the best area to stay in Costa Rica for beach lovers?

If you love the beach, Tamarindo on the Pacific coast and Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean coast are among the best areas to stay in Costa Rica. Tamarindo offers lively beach activities and nightlife, while Puerto Viejo has a more relaxed vibe with stunning beaches and a unique Afro-Caribbean culture.

3. Where should I stay in Costa Rica for the best wildlife experiences?

Monteverde and Manuel Antonio are some of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for wildlife enthusiasts. Monteverde’s cloud forests are home to a diverse range of flora and fauna, while Manuel Antonio National Park is famous for its rich biodiversity, including monkeys, sloths, and exotic birds.

4. Which area is best for adventure activities in Costa Rica?

Arenal is one of the best areas to stay in Costa Rica for adventure activities. The region offers zip-lining, white-water rafting, hiking, and the chance to explore the majestic Arenal Volcano and its surrounding rainforests.

5. Are there any family-friendly areas to stay in Costa Rica?

Yes, Costa Rica has many family-friendly areas. Manuel Antonio is particularly great for families due to its beautiful beaches, safe swimming areas, and abundance of wildlife. Arenal is also family-friendly, with plenty of activities suitable for children and adults alike.

6. What is the best area to stay in Costa Rica for a romantic getaway?

For a romantic getaway, consider staying in Monteverde or Manuel Antonio. Monteverde’s serene cloud forests provide a peaceful retreat, while Manuel Antonio offers beautiful beaches and luxurious resorts ideal for couples.

7. Is traveling to Costa Rica safe?

Costa Rica is generally considered safe for travelers, especially in the popular tourist areas such as Tamarindo, Arenal, Monteverde, Manuel Antonio, and Puerto Viejo. However, as with any travel destination, it’s important to take standard precautions, such as keeping an eye on your belongings and avoiding isolated areas at night.

8. What is the best time of year to visit Costa Rica?

The best time to visit Costa Rica is during the dry season, which runs from December to April. This period offers sunny weather and is ideal for exploring the best areas to stay in Costa Rica. However, the green season (May to November) can also be a good time to visit, with fewer tourists and lush, vibrant landscapes.

9. Can I experience both adventure and relaxation in the best area to stay in Costa Rica?

Absolutely! Costa Rica offers a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation. For example, in Arenal, you can enjoy thrilling activities like zip-lining and then relax in the natural hot springs. Manuel Antonio combines beautiful beaches for relaxation with adventurous hikes in the national park.

10. How do I choose the best area to stay in Costa Rica for my interests?

Choosing the best area to stay in Costa Rica depends on your interests. If you love the beach and surfing, Tamarindo is a great choice. For nature and wildlife, consider Monteverde or Manuel Antonio. If you’re looking for adventure, Arenal is ideal. For a unique cultural experience, Puerto Viejo is the place to be.

For more detailed insights on the best area to stay in Costa Rica, continue reading here.

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[usersukuna]

Ok but this article is SO good 😭😭

[crowsneststuff]

He is SITTIN’ in the LEAF.

[sustainabilitytravel]

Sustainable Accommodations: Best Eco-Lodges and Hotels Worldwide

The way we travel has a profound impact on the planet. One of the best ways to reduce your environmental footprint is by choosing accommodations that prioritize sustainability. Thankfully, eco-lodges and green hotels around the world are leading the charge in eco-conscious hospitality. From lush rainforests to urban oases, here’s a guide to some of the best sustainable stays that promise comfort, luxury, and care for the environment.

1. Soneva Fushi – Maldives

Nestled in the Maldives, Soneva Fushi is a luxurious eco-resort that blends seamlessly with its natural surroundings. The resort is powered by solar energy and features a world-class waste management system. Guests can indulge in stunning overwater villas, dine at zero-waste restaurants, and snorkel in crystal-clear waters, knowing their stay supports sustainability.

2. Fogo Island Inn – Canada

Located on a remote island off Newfoundland, Fogo Island Inn is an architectural gem committed to sustainability. This eco-conscious retreat uses locally sourced materials, supports the island’s economy, and reinvests its profits into the community. With breathtaking ocean views, a cozy Nordic aesthetic, and locally inspired cuisine, it’s a haven for eco-conscious travelers.

3. Treehotel – Sweden

If you’ve ever dreamed of sleeping in a treehouse, Treehotel in Sweden is the place for you. Each uniquely designed cabin is suspended among the trees, offering stunning views of the Swedish forest. The hotel operates with a minimal environmental footprint, using renewable energy and sustainable building materials.

4. Grootbos Private Nature Reserve – South Africa

For those seeking a safari experience with a sustainable twist, Grootbos Private Nature Reserve in South Africa is a must-visit. This eco-lodge supports local conservation efforts and community programs while offering luxurious accommodations. Explore fynbos-covered landscapes, go on guided nature walks, or enjoy fine dining with farm-to-table ingredients.

5. Hoshinoya Karuizawa – Japan

Located in a tranquil forest in Japan, Hoshinoya Karuizawa is a resort that exemplifies harmony with nature. Powered by geothermal energy, the resort offers serene hot springs, minimalist Japanese architecture, and locally sourced cuisine. It’s the perfect blend of luxury and sustainability.

6. Whitepod Eco-Luxury Hotel – Switzerland

Nestled in the Swiss Alps, Whitepod Eco-Luxury Hotel offers a unique glamping experience in geodesic domes. The pods are energy-efficient and designed to minimize their impact on the environment. Guests can enjoy stunning alpine views, hike through pristine trails, and embrace the beauty of the mountains.

7. El Nido Resorts – Philippines

El Nido Resorts in Palawan is a stunning example of sustainable tourism. Surrounded by turquoise waters and lush jungles, the resort operates with solar energy, marine conservation programs, and eco-friendly designs. Guests can enjoy snorkeling, kayaking, and exploring hidden lagoons, all while preserving the natural beauty of the Philippines.

8. Lapa Rios Lodge – Costa Rica

Lapa Rios Lodge is a true eco-tourism pioneer, set in the heart of Costa Rica’s Osa Peninsula. This lodge protects over 1,000 acres of rainforest, supports local communities, and uses sustainable practices in its operations. Guests can immerse themselves in the wild beauty of Costa Rica while enjoying eco-luxury at its finest.

9. Camp Glenorchy – New Zealand

Located near Queenstown, Camp Glenorchy is New Zealand’s first net-zero energy retreat. It incorporates sustainable building practices, solar power, and rainwater collection systems. Guests can enjoy cozy accommodations, stunning mountain views, and a deep sense of connection with nature.

10. Six Senses Ninh Van Bay – Vietnam

Six Senses resorts are known for their commitment to sustainability, and Ninh Van Bay is no exception. Perched on a remote bay in Vietnam, this resort combines luxury with eco-consciousness. From farm-to-table dining to marine conservation programs, it offers an indulgent yet environmentally friendly escape.

Why Choose Sustainable Accommodations?

Staying in eco-friendly accommodations doesn’t just enhance your travel experience—it helps protect the planet. These lodges and hotels prioritize energy efficiency, reduce waste, support local communities, and often reinvest in conservation programs. By choosing these options, you contribute to sustainable tourism and ensure that future generations can enjoy these incredible destinations.

[kirstielol]

Ahoy! Random long-time follower here. I’ve always wanted to go to Costa Rica and was wondering if you had any recommendations on companies, travel package deals, etc. Anything helps, thanks!

hello follower! 😊

there's so many different ways to vacation in costa rica, so i'm not sure how applicable this info will be to the type of trip you want to do.. but what we do is plan and book our own custom trip.. rather than doing a travel package or going to any all-inclusive places.

like this time around we did 3 days at a lodge in monteverde, 3 days at a lodge right beside arenal volcano, then 5 days at a resort near a city called la fortuna. everything was booked separately.

we used a company called "destination costa rica" to drive us from the airport to the first resort, then again from the final resort back to the airport. i highly recommend them, we've used them all 3 times we've gone to costa rica and they've been great!

to get from monteverde to arenal we used a company called "jeep-boat-jeep". they specialize in taking people across lake arenal, so that's only going to be helpful if you're planning on travelling between those two areas.

otherwise, each lodge/resort we stayed in was able to drive us to other resorts, cities, wherever we wanted to go. the taxi's in costa rica are also great! we used them quite a few times to go into town.

as for activities you might want to do, like ziplining, tours, hiking, whatever.. every place i've ever stayed at in costa rica has given us a huge list of activities that you can book, and they'll arrange transportation for you. all you need to do is show up in the lobby at a certain time. we also would just pull up google maps and look at what there was to do nearby lol

hopefully this was the type of answer you were looking for! costa rica's a very modern and safe country, so i find it really simple to plan trips and get around on your own without doing a travel package. and i find most people that work in hospitality, and all the drivers, spoke enough english to communicate just fine.

i hope you have a wonderful time, it's such a beautiful country 😊❤️

[puckeffideb]

[communist-hatsunemiku]

bro i am just barely skating by when it comes to bills and rent. and my mom is like "you need to save money for the trip to costa rica in december!"🙃

[butterbabyflapjack]

✧˖° Brian Moser x serial killer fem!reader

✧˖° summary:

The Ice Truck Killer’s back in town, and somehow he's stuck babysitting you; Miami's newest would-be killer.

Helping you out wasn't at all his original intention–he'd rather see you dead, you know far too much–but he supposes he could spare an evening to undomesticate that hungry beast inside you. Show you how to really live your life.

In which Brian helps you kill someone who utterly deserves it, and the kill room turns into a horny sex-fueled bloodbath.

✧˖° wordcount (chapter 1): 5k

✧˖° chapters: one, two, three

✧˖° ao3

✧˖° warnings: serial killer fem!reader, reader insert, explicit sexual content, rough sex, passionate sex, fucking in a kill room, dark romance, dark comedy, canon typical depictions of blood and gore, enthusiastic consent, mutual pining, impact play, playing with your food, serial killers in love, banter, dirty talk, voice kink, trauma bonding, babysitting a serial killer, implied sexual abuse of a child (you're killing this mf don’t worry), torture (you’re torturing this mf don’t worry), Brian is his own warning, enemies to lovers, biting, daddy issues?, blood play, a bit of angst a dash of bloodlust & a heavy splash of spice, Brian loves to fluster you and he won't shut the hell up going about it, Brian survives season 1 in this house

✧˖° author's note:

This is ridiculous, horny, bloody, silly and dark (in essence, a very dark romantic comedy), so please heed the tags!

Starts after season 1, but with Brian escaping. Sorry if there’s any rough spots, I kinda rushed editing this.

ch.1 is from Brian’s POV, and the rest of the story is from yours. And there aren't nearly enough problematic female characters in the world so I'm making you one 😃

✧˖° chapter 1

Hello again, Miami. 

Didn’t think I’d see you again this soon.

What’s it been? Eight months? Since I was your most highly sought after criminal?

Guess I just couldn’t stay away.

Time flies when you’re laying low.

Guess I just missed you.

But really, my reason for coming back to dear old Miami–my home, both my real and spiritual birthplace–has a name, a life, and a face. Your name, if you’re really so curious. Your life. Your face. And I intend to leave what remains of all three of those things behind to the hungry bellies of gators before once more absconding stage left. 

But why, you might ask? Why do I want to kill you? Horrified, scandalized, even. For what reason had you to die by my skillful hand? And the answer to that is simple: death doesn’t need a reason. Death simply is, and I simply enjoy it. 

Though…

Regardless of that irrefutable fact…

I’ll admit. 

This particular death–your death–has a slightly more personal reason. And that reason, or at least its causation, was currently chit-chatting with me on the phone.

“Your plane lands at eight?” Dexter asked, and I didn’t waste time with a nod when he wouldn’t see it. Simply staring out across the coast of Costa Rica, the sunset reflected within the dark shadow of my gaze.

Costa Rica… and I’d really wanted to retire somewhere cold.

Not that this was retirement.

It was more of an… unplanned, involuntary vacation. Just until the heat from the feds cooled down.

Then again, I wasn’t waiting for the temp to drop before planning this little excursion back to Miami. But you’d sorta forced my hand in that regard, now hadn’t you?

“Hope you don’t mind if I crash on the couch,” I said, good-natured, and I knew he wouldn’t object. My brother couldn’t feel much–much more than myself–but I sensed a sort of guilt in him for how he’d previously driven me off those eight months ago. Choosing a fake sibling over a real one, one who actually knew who he was… I’d say the guilt had good cause.

I could hear him at his quaint living room/office combo’s computer, typing away at something. Perpetually Distracted Dexter.

“Yeah–yeah, that’d be great,” he said. 

I exhaled a little sigh whilst listening to the soft waves roll in beside me. “Why do I feel there’s a but coming?”

“No buts,” said Dexter. “I just, uh…” He seemed distracted, but not by whatever he typed. “I’ll just have a friend over tomorrow. She’ll probably be here when you arrive.”

Ah.

The friend.

The one I’d been silently wishing Dex would just kill himself. Grow suddenly bored of you.

Wishful thinking.

He seemed quite fond. 

He wouldn’t shut up about you. Always and forever droning on.

It wasn’t romantic, this interest, or so I’d come to suspect over all these past droning months. I didn’t exactly ask about that, though, half because I really didn’t care and half because of how much the subject of you annoyed me, raised over and over again and ugh, just give it a rest already. 

Dex shouldn’t have ‘friends’. The mere concept a fairytale, a mask to people like us. It should be just he and I, two hunters against the world, hunting whomever we like.

“Ah,” I voiced aloud, with the sugar-flaked pleasantry of someone who wasn’t at all picturing severing your aorta with an icepick. “Your little friend will be there to greet me. How nice.”

Dexter must have misread the edge of sarcasm as some sort of concern. “She already knows you’re coming. Don’t worry, she can be trusted.”

Just more proof that my do-good, misguided brother is far too trusting.

“Well,” I said, as though accepting this point as fact. You really can be trusted with my and my brother's secrets–such relief! “I look forward to finally meeting her.” And carving and slicing and dicing her.

I must have forgotten to include that last part out loud, and thus Dexter had no objection–even sounding strangely relieved by my show of good faith in at long last having this introduction.

“See you tomorrow night,” he said, and my lips formed a little smile–instinctual, without any warmth.

“See you then,” I said, then hung up.

And now; here I am. Back in the ever-enchanting sunshine state. My former playground of frozen, meticulously broken toys, and it feels much more like home to be back than I even expected, with just the small matter of ridding you from these sentimental, familial walls.

Walking the concrete pathway to Dex’s Palm Terrace place was nearly surreal, assaulting the walls of my person with waves of distant memories. I’d broken into his beachfront apartment so many times before. Snooping around, getting to know him. Leaving gifts tied up with little red bows. I was basically murderous Saint Claus.

I had only one bag, having traveled here light–a black leather crossbody, which I thumbed the broad strap of whilst knocking with mild knuckles against the door.

Silence. Then, footsteps. Then–

Dexter throws open the door, a smile formed ear to ear like a big, goofy animal. 

“Brian,” he says, and somehow it melts me. Chips slightly away at all that frigid, cold frost round my cruel, vacant heart. And his eyes dip over the state of me. The longer hair, dark curls well past my ears, now; just long enough to tuck back but not long enough to stay there. The dark scruff which coats my angled jawline in the absence of shaving for so long.

“Dig the beard,” Dexter says. “Quite the disguise. Bet the ladies love it.”

I smile at the compliment, though if he'd hated the look I'd feel much the same. “One does what one has to to effectively blend,” I return. And it’s hard not to feel somewhat warm, somewhat seen, understood, by my brother before me. The only person in this world who accepts who I am.

Well, not wholly.

Thanks for nothing, Debra.

Still. Since the death of our mother, Dex is the only place I’ve ever belonged, and seeing him now I’m abruptly struck with just how long it’s been.

I don’t wait for him to welcome me in–he’s probably too cordially stunted to properly welcome me, anyway. I just step right up and throw both my arms around him, my baby brother, my other half; cuffing him firmly on the back as I breathe him in.

“It’s been too long,” I say, holding him there for a moment, before pulling back.

Dexter’s expression is torn into a million indecipherable things, but amongst them is his affection for me. The brother who’ll always see him for who he really is. Who truly fathoms that insatiable beast inside him.

The bliss of our reunion’s forced to end, however, because this house has a rat problem. And as I hear a small, feminine throat being cleared from the fluorescent-lit depths behind my brother, my curiosity gets the better of me.

Time to finally put a face to the name I’ve been loathing for weeks.

And there you are. Standing before a metal-limbed armchair nuzzled inside the living room, like you’d sat there then stiffly stood up; uprooted at the sound of my knocking. Frozen, now; lingering. Like you’re caught in a trap you don’t know your way out of. Hands fidgeting as they twist at the hem of your shirt. 

It’s like you know you don’t belong here–that this moment is Dexter’s and mine–and for the cleverness of that, at least, I must inwardly applaud you. Though that’s decidedly where all my praise ends.

This is one of those social situations I’ve learned so well to navigate through life in the foster system, masking my aberrance. Awkwardness. Other people’s–not mine. And though I could so effortlessly put you at ease as you stand there fidgeting, I find it more entertaining to draw that part out. For a while, at least.

I must admit, I hadn’t pictured you at all in my head. What you’d look like. Not as anything more than an aggravating, compromising blip I’d soon snuff out the threat of. But if I had pictured you, I wouldn’t have imagined you looking, so…

…Well.

You’re not…

Unnatractive. 

I feel one dark brow slowly raising.

And you’re only a friend…?

Whatever must poor Rita think? Seeing the two of you together?

Dexter. You dog.

My eyes trace your expression as you awkwardly hover there in the length of my speculative pause. Myself perfectly content to allow you to hang there in a noose of discomfort all night, and then some. Though eventually I know one of us will have to say something.

This is our fated and much anticipated formal introduction, after all.

So at what feels like long last, I throw you the lifeline that is my smarmiest smile. Knowing full well you won’t know it’s not real. No one but Dex ever does.

“And you must be the friend I’ve heard so much about,” I greet you pleasantly, my deep voice threaded with warmth. Though, peculiarly, that unsure tension in you remains stubbornly in place. Seems if anything only to grow, despite my intent to disarm it. 

Huh.

Oh well–it doesn’t deter me. Killing you will be so much easier if you don’t see it coming, so I’m keen on you liking me, letting your guard down. Thus, I graciously continue:

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to finally having you right in front of me.”

Maybe a bit of truth will lube you up. And I watch as your lower lip’s sucked in between your teeth for just a moment whilst you eye me; the motion drawing my studious gaze like a shark’s to blood. 

“And why is that?” you ask, which admittedly I wasn’t expecting. Such a nervous mouse, yet you’d put me on the spot.

I can’t place your nerves. I’m perfectly charming. And yes, you’re aware I’m the notorious Ice Truck Killer, but I’m not sure why that would be alarming. Not with the company you keep; namely, my murderous brother. So it must be something else.

And I so hate not knowing things.

“So I can be introduced to you in person, of course,” I say, like it’s obvious, and it should be. Striding in past Dexter as he steps aside to allow me in, shutting and latching the door behind us all; a roomful of killers, or so I’ve been told.

Our eyes never stray in my steady approach; not yours, not mine. My height soon towering over yours, which isn’t unusual for me when meeting new people, nor when standing near almost anyone. Offering my hand and a smile I’ve been told is quite dashing. “Dex has had such wonderful things to say about you.” And I’m sure he has, I just couldn’t be bothered to remember any of them.

My smile could melt steel as if it was butter.

“I’m Brian.”

I won’t lie, I expected you to crumble. Most women love this move. The confidence, the approachable self-assurance. But you eye my outstretched hand as though I might pull you into the fires of hell with me were you to take it, before craning your neck to meet my gaze once more.

“Charmed,” is all you say; unmoving.

Something about that irks a small ripple up my nape, but I just allow my hand to drop graciously back to my side. All practiced, svelte charm still in place. It’d take a lot more than that to dischevel me.

“So,” I say, by all appearance unconcerned by the lack of civility in my brother’s ill choice of friends. “It almost feels like I already know you, what with the way Dexter’s gone on and on.”

Your gaze steals over to Dexter, hovering there in the distance behind us, before you smile up at me again in a way which feels forced. And I suppose you’re not the talkative sort, though why you keep glancing at Dexter as if waiting for something from him, as if he’ll swoop in and save you, I’m uncertain about.

In due time I’ll figure it out.

“But there’s still one thing I’m curious about,” I say, turning to make myself comfortable. It has been a long trip to get here, after all. 

I plop down like a wolf amongst sheep atop Dexter’s hideous couch, legs spread like I own the damn food chain. One arm draped out along the length of its backrest as I eye you somewhat expectantly, still rigid in how you stand. Imagining what you might look like strung upside down by your ankles with a lengthy strap of duct tape kissing those soft lips, holding them shut for me. 

The shadows beneath my eyes pinch.

It’s a lovely image.

Maybe you’ll see for yourself.

“And what’s that?” Dexter asks–bravo, Dexter–at least one of you’s courteous enough to ask. And I tilt my darkly curled head at him.

“How exactly did the two of you get to know one another?” I ask. Watching him. Eying you. Hoping my focus might rattle you–just a little. “I’m sure it’s an interesting tale.”

“I’ve already told you,” Dexter says, and he probably has, at least in his unabbreviated sense. “We work together at the precinct.” He dons his playful tone I often find so silly but right now I find I detest. “The lab geek and the cop~”

“Right. But that’s not what I mean,” I slice into his futile comedy routine, “What I mean, is: how did our friend here come to know you’re one of Miami’s most heinous, uncaught serial killers?”  

The other, of course, being myself; excepting the whole uncaught thing.

Dex is lucky I’m so forgiving.

I put it forth bluntly, with little room for either one of you to wiggle out of answering. And though my radiance of charisma remains, my intensity’s keen. ‘Cause I must admit; now that I’m here, I’m curious about you. Especially when you seem like such a rabbit in a household of jackals. Weren’t you supposed to be some like-minded killer or something? Perhaps I should have paid closer attention whenever the unwanted topic of you had come up in mine and Dexter’s conversations, instead of bitterly tuning you out. 

Strangely, Dexter doesn’t seem to know what to say, and neither do you. Like the story’s too long, too elaborate. As though there's pieces the two of you’d rather omit. 

Fascinating.

“She helped me out,” Dex says at last; monotonously shallow, like the words aren’t even his, like he's rehearsed this. “In a time of need.”

I quirk a subtly mocking brow at him from where I’m idly lounged on the couch. 

“Why do you sound like a generic thankyou card?” Why, indeed. “C’mon, baby brother–I want specifics. You can tell me.” My dusky gaze passes from him to his lovely, curious friend, hovered opposite the ugly coffee table before me. “We’re all friends here, right?”

It would seem that my smile unnerves you. Which might be annoying if it wasn’t so entertaining a thing to see.

Dexter sighs before trying a more human answer, leaning one bulky shoulder against his white, open-backed bookcase that separates his living room from the office attached. 

This whole effectively communicating thing is hard for him.

“It was sort of an accident,” he says, like that’s far more telling. The lacking details seeming to spur you to chime in. 

“It was really just me being in the wrong place at the right time,” you elaborate, with the passive front of one pretending the ice they walk on won’t at any moment begin to splinter. Folding your arms against that pensive look I toss you, which I tilt my head in silent question of. Why so nervous? I’m far from daunting, aren’t I? 

“I was called to check out an anonymous tip,” you continue, averting your gaze from me far more often than one normally does. “Some sort of suspicious activity at an abandoned storage shed near Palmetto. Myself and my parter.” 

You glance at Dex, as if he might continue the tale for you, might rescue you from this, but when he merely quirks a little smile with a similar shrug, you’re forced into proceeding.

“It was supposedly related to a case–which it wasn’t, not that that matters, but…” You let out a breath. Seeming to steady yourself, the recollection, though for all your nervous fidgeting your tone is surprisingly calm. “I walked into the storage shed, it was unlocked, and… And I saw Dexter. Sawing someone’s arm off. Someone who was strapped down to a table in a plastic fucking tutu.” 

You glance at Dex, as he detachedly watches you. 

“Someone I knew from a previous case,” you continue. “Someone who deserved whatever it was Dexter was doing, and much more than that, too. Which is exactly when I shut that fucking door and assured my partner there was nothing to see here, and we left. Left Dexter to do what he does, undisturbed.”

That’s the end of your story, and I picture the scene, all while some predatorily protective part of me insists on clarifying, “So… That’s it? You saw my brother chopping a man into pieces, and were immediately okay with it? Go Team Dexter? Just like that?”

I try very little to hide my disbelief, ‘cause I don’t buy it. In my experience with cops, and I’ve had plenty, you all tend to be such sticklers when it comes to casual bloodshed and carnage. What’s more, your uptick in nerves isn’t exactly selling me.

My lashes lower in my deliberate examination of you. “Why’d you really not turn my dear brother in?”

In lieu of answering, you once more eye Dex, and that look between you says something.

“It’s complicated,” you say at last. Like you’re waiting for Dexter to speak, but he’d rather wait on you.

The pair of you. Really. You’re like a couple of tongue-tied, helpless kittens. Must I string this conversation on for you?

“Enlighten me,” I say, with something of an edge.

Perhaps I should’ve kept the disarmingly fake smile, because if anything you thrust your guard up.

“Look, I don’t owe you a full explanation of what Dexter and I have been through, okay?”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” I viperously put forth, my pretense of pleasantry slipping. “Seeing as how you know so much about myself. And all without my express knowledge or permission.”

An impermanent issue. One I won't leave Miami without personally seeing resolved. You know far too much–you’re an issue. For Dexter’s sake and for mine, we must unfortunately bid you bon voyage.

“I’d say it’s only fair I know a little more about you,” I continue, cordiality slipped back in place. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

The delicate line of your jaw tautens, eyes wavered with wariness and doubt. Refusing to spit out any more, though the longer you’re subject to my critical appraisal, the more the twine of your stubbornness unwinds.

“I… I need someone dead,” you admit at last.

Ah.

There it is.

“And, after seeing Dexter doing… what he does…” You bite your lower lip, as though struggling to recollect straying thoughts. “I need his help. I need his help to kill someone.”

I take my time mulling about your words. Piecing together the part you still aren't saying.

“So… You won’t turn Dexter in, so long as he helps you kill someone. Did I get that right?” 

You bite down harsher–immediately shake your head. “No, it’s–it’s more complicated than that!” 

But by now I’m barely listening. Turning instead to lift a wry brow at my brother, who’s watching this whole fiasco with a can-I-please-leave-yet look plastered upon his face.

“This is the friend you’ve been telling me about?” I wonder vaguely. “The cop who’s blackmailing you into helping her kill someone?”

“I’m a detective,” you cut in, like that matters, like I care, and I feel my eyes already rolling.

“Detective,” I sarcastically amend, with a scathing glance at you. “So sorry to offend, Detective Whoever-You-Are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m talking to my brother.”

When you mutter back your name under your breath, I make a show of ignoring it.

“So, what?” I instead ask my foolish, good-hearted kin. “You’re actually going to help her kill someone?” 

His lack of answer’s enough. And at his arms-folded silence, I ruminatively tut my tongue.

“Doesn’t seem like you, Dex… Not the edict-ruled brother I know.” I try not to let my tone grow too ingratiating whilst goading, “What about your beloved code?” 

Dexter exhales a stiff breath. Putting forth, “It’s more than that.”

“More?”

“Like she said, it’s complicated.”

“Has the word ‘complicated’ been redefined as ‘indescribably moronic and impossible to explain’ sometime in the last fifteen seconds?” I return, incredulously flat. Eying their strange and stilted silence with dwindling patience. “What aren’t the two of you telling me…?”

You’re biting your lip like you’re biting back words, and I watch, waiting, biding my time for those bit-back words to get the better of you–though surprisingly, it’s Dexter who breaks first. 

“It’s nothing about that, it’s…” He rubs the back of his sand-colored head, roughing his hair up with tense distraction. “Well, it is about that, in a sense. I didn’t know how to bring this up. I just… I have to leave town for the weekend,” he finally gets out. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m headed out.”

I’m too nonplussed to hide the creeping edge of my bemusement.

That’s what he’s been having trouble saying?

He drops this like it’ll land like a bombshell on our entire reunion, before rushing at whatever my bland expression, “It’s just for a few days. I’ll be back Monday bright and early.”

To be honest, I’m mostly confused about why this seemed so hard for either one of you bumbling idiots to tell me. Or why you’re bumbling about it at all. Why should I care if he’ll be gone for forty-eight more measly hours after we've been separated for almost a year? And for many, many years before that? Does he actually expect me to mourn him till Monday?

“Big plans with the family?” I venture coolly, and Dexter’s broad shoulders bunch into a shrug, as though he’s cornered and a shrug is all that might save him.

“It’s a whole thing,” he explains. “Cody has a scouting trip, then Rita wanted to make a whole weekend out of it with the grandparents–I’ll spare you the details.”

Yes, thank you for that.

Dexter the family man. It’s so sweet it’s nauseating.

“So you’re taking your fake kids camping so you can keep playing domesticated dad to a woman and children who’d hate you if they knew who you really are?” My smile’s so feigned it hurts. “Sounds like a great time.”

My brother, the shrugger, shrugs once again. Doesn’t even try to defend my interpretive accusation. “I gotta be there.”

“Well have fun on your little adventure,” I muse; side-eying him. “Not sure why it took you this long to tell me. I’m sure I’ll find some way to busy myself in the meantime.”

You and Dexter exchange that look again. That look which betrays how you still haven’t shared whatever’s so lodged down your throats and wherever this is really going, and by this point it’s driving me toward wanting to just rip open your necks to drag whatever it is out, myself.

“Well, actually,” my brother begins, struggling once more with saying things. “I’ve already got an idea that’ll keep you busy in mind.”

I steady him in the crosshairs of my vision. Well. Now we might be getting somewhere. And I can’t deny my interest, much like my frustration, is piqued. 

“Oh?”

“A favor, really,” he adds, without elaborating, and I really am going to rip the words right out of him.

“Are you going to tell me what that favor is?” I’m finally forced to ask, before glancing exasperatedly at you. “Or perhaps I should defer to your translator?”

There you go, nervously rubbing that elbow again, though I find myself oddly mesmerized by the motion of it. I can’t say for what cause, other than I’m not blind, and you’re obviously attractive. Watching you anxiously stand there is becoming one of my favorite pastimes.

“I, um,” you mumble, so quietly I almost can’t hear you. A nervous mouse again, one my nature is stirred to chase. “Well. Dexter was going to help me with–you know… What I was saying before. We have everything planned for tomorrow, and it has to happen tomorrow.” You seem strangely adamant about this, and I don’t care enough to question the ‘why’, just as I don’t care for the ‘who’–I’ll take your word for it. “But, um, with Dexter out of town…”

Helpless, as if to say any more’s an impossible task, you glance to Dexter for support.

“Really, the two of you,” I lowly muse. Eyes glistening between the pair of you, alight with my wicked amusement. Stretching out more broadly on the throne of Dexter’s hideous couch. “You could almost put a full sentence together so long as you tag one another in after every breath.”

The taunt’s enough to unlodge wherever Dexter’s tongue’s at. 

“I need you to help her kill this guy while I’m gone,” he finally says bluntly. Arms folded, expression stern, yet hinted by what may as well be him begging me, which in itself, is…

Well. He’s never asked me for anything. Not like this. Though I certainly don’t owe him any favors…

“I know you know how to set up a proper kill room,” he states, and he should–he’s seen my imitation of his plastic-drenched kill room, firsthand. I’ve studied his work more than anyone. Emulated it to perfection, and all for a happily-ever-after he refused to take part of, spat cold in my face.

For a moment, I feel almost human in how I can’t seem to react or respond to this request. Though as I watch the mirrored hope in you both, as the idea of this slowly settles, I find that it doesn’t completely bore me…

My eyes drift to you. Singling you out. Stringing round your anxious expression. And you’ve mettle, at least, to not look away from the barbs of my musing intensity.

So. This is why you’ve been acting so sheepishly inept. You need big bad Brian’s help with something.

It’s laughably cute, the idea of you killing, and already I know I’m going to do it. But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make you sit in it a little. Take my time in toying with you, first.

“You want me to babysit your blackmailing little friend here,” I say to Dex, with raven-dark eyes still on you, “while she attempts–and correct me if I’m wrong here–her first kill?” 

I can tell you can feel how my gaze is dissecting you. Pulling apart, piecing together, assessing every piece and shape and shade of you. It makes you squirm, and I love it; sparing a moment to slide my tongue over the sharpness of my teeth as I feast on such a beautiful reaction. 

I turn back to Dex. “What makes you think she’s even capable?”

“I’m capable,” you insist, drawing my gaze again. And even through those nerves roused in my presence, you appear quite convinced of it. 

Interesting. 

“I can do this,” you again allege. With such frail confidence, but confidence nonetheless. “I just… need a little help.”

I tamp down the rearing head of my inquisitiveness. Ensure my interest remains vague in how I lackadaisically eye you. 

“Help with what, exactly?” I slowly ask. And it’s not a no, which I’m amused to see is so surprising.

You blink a few times, eyes growing wider, more determined–before you’re explaining, quickly, as though whatever luck this is may run out.

“Getting him to the kill site,” you say succinctly, with all the puffed-up bravado of a fluffy little rabbit pretending that they’ve slayed a fox before, and it really is amusing. “Moving the body. Clean-up.”

I let my watchful silence drag on. Held in supposed indecisive contemplation. Should I? Should I? Until, when I can nearly hear your fretting heartbeat, I feel one corner of my lips slowly quirk up. Watching every minor movement of you like a fox might a meal, might a rabbit, and find I really wouldn’t mind taking a bite. 

“Don’t need help doing the deed, then?” I subtly ask you.

Your eyebrows flicker to a knot. Lips pressing flat, before you shake your head at me. “No.”

“You sure?” I further goad, with silken smoothness. Loving those little cracks of hesitation along your lovely surface so much I’m inclined to hammer in even more of them. “‘Cause I won’t kill him for you. You have to do that, yourself. And what’s more, if you for any reason chicken out on me and can’t follow through with all this…” I calmly smile. “I’ll simply leave you there all alone with whatever maddened mess of whoever this man you’ve left behind.” The idea of it sparks a delicious flame somewhere deep below my cavernous lack of heart. “After ensuring he’s woken up, first, of course. Aware. Pissed off. Untied.” 

I smile my cheshire smile as that resolve in you flickers in place; the smallest glow, so nearly snuffed out already. 

“So?” I spur in your uncertain silence. “Do we have a deal, little killer?”

And still, you hesitate. Seeming to weigh my words with care, along with the cost of your own, which I certainly appreciate. You’re not as stupid as I’d originally believed, in any case.

At long last, you nod, but I don’t move, don’t even blink from how I wolfishly watch you from my throne of Dexter’s couch. Not until you say the words out loud. And you will, if you want my help. You have to.

If that’s a flash of resentment within those pretty eyes of yours, it only causes my broadening smirk.

“Fine,” you say at last, after thickly swallowing. “We have a deal.”

And surely light must dance in my entertained eyes as I bite back just how pleased I am by this answer. 

This should be fun.

✧˖° chapter 2

[crevicedwelling]

these nice big wandering spiders (Ancylometes bogotensis) were a common sight at the last few sites I stayed at in Costa Rica. initially, I thought I was seeing multiple species, but apparently there’s a number of color morphs (I think? these seem to all be adult) in both sexes. my favorite was the all-black male with hints of blue iridescence.

[jbbartram-illu]

Time for a brief break from posting ceramic animals to post some flesh & blood ones (see alt text for species!)!

My partner's mom & stepdad took us to Costa Rica (near Tamarindo) for his 40th birthday & I was in bird/creature heaven! The nearest rainforest was a bit too far from where we were staying, but I got to experience some wonderful dry tropical forest & estuary/river ecosystems, plus got some good hangout time with the Pacific ocean <3

My partner gave me the good DSLR for the nature tours we went on & it was a joy being able to take pretty OK photos instead of sad zoomed-in cheapest-iPhone ones (obviously I still have a lot to learn, but these are exciting as a beginning!!):

Since our two nature tours were boat-based (one on the Palo Verde River, one on an estuary in Las Baulas park), most of my decent bird photos are herons, as they're larger, generally lower-down, & also move more slowly than goddamn passerines/parrots/smaller birds.

I did get an ok-ish shot of a common black hawk, tho!! LOOK at that eagle-y beak!

& finally, the reptiles!! There were green iguanas & black spiny-tailed iguanas absolutely everywhere...

...AND WE SAW AMERICAN CROCODILES!!

On the Palo Verde river tour we saw some BIG guys (smallest maybe 6', biggest must have been 10'-12')!

& on the estuary tour we saw a few young ones. Two were less than 3' long, and this guy was maybe 4' and let us get super close b/c it was tucked away in the mangrove roots!

I had a wonderful time on this trip and am already looking forward to coming back for a rainforest-focused adventure next time!!

Also, Tamarindo has two really good coffee shops run by the loveliest people (Nordico Coffee & Derecho Sagrado) so if you're ever there, pls check them out!

FIN!

[modmad]

hi mod!! do you happen to have any tips for those of us who are masking at work and still want to stay hydrated?? i wanna be safe, but water is a MUST ;; even if you can't think of anything, i hope you have a good day!!

okay so I admit working from home gets me out of this situation a lot, BUT. on the occasions I've been on a train and been Thorsty I used this! when I went to Costa Rica one of the most wonderful things I purchased and have kept ever since is The Bitey Woter Tube

What the Fuck is That you ask, well it's a Platypus Drink Tube and all you do is screw it onto your platypus waterbottle or plastic bag. thing. whatever. turn the bottle upside down, 'bite' lightly on the sucky part (which opens the end of the weird straw) and then use it... like a weird straw.

I survived hiking around in a rainforest for a month with this sucker (literally) and I've found it oddly useful ever since covid hit, bc you can sorta shove it into the side of your mask for a sip when you are dying from dehydration and not have to take the mask off fully.

If you want to look marginally less bizarre (and you have the option) I'd suggest simply leaving the crowded areas to go have a drink break outside or in a corridor, but if you can't leave and don't mind people asking what the fuck that thing is, this has been working for me!

[hard--headed--woman]

"I had to fight to be myself and to be respected. I'm proud to say I'm a lesbian. I don't talk about it too much, but I don't deny it. I've had to confront society and the Church, which says that homosexuals are condemned. It's absurd! How can they judge someone who was born that way? I didn't learn to be a lesbian, nobody taught me to be the way I am. I was born this way. I've never slept with a man. I've never slept with a man. Yes, I'm a virgin and I'm not ashamed. My Gods made me this way"

- Chavela Vargas

Chavela Vargas (María Isabel Anita Carmen de Jesús Vargas Lizano) was a Mexican singer of Costa Rican origin, born in 1919 in Costa Rica and died in 2012 in Mexico.

She is considered a leading figure in ranchera music, which she sang with strength and emotion. Her voice, rough and warm at the same time, served her theatrical, passionate and human interpretations of standards from the traditional Mexican repertoire.

"And since I have to say it almost everywhere, I'll say it: my parents didn't want me. I suffered for it".

She has an extremely difficult and conflicted relationship with her family, who do not accept her in any way. As a teenager, she left her country and her family for Mexico. The young woman rejected and criticised the ultra-conservative society in which she lives. Once in Mexico, she began singing in the streets.

In the 1940s, she became friends with the painters Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, staying with them for a while and becoming Frida Kahlo's lover.

At the age of 30, she was noticed on Mexico City's Avenida Insurgentes by the composer and famous rancheras singer José Alfredo Jiménez, who became the author of her main hits. With his help, she performed in the cabarets of Mexico City in the mid-1950s before embarking on the road to success in Acapulco, an international tourist destination, where she sang at one of Elizabeth Taylor's weddings.

Chavela Vargas rose to fame in the 1960s and 1970s, touring the world. She became a well-known figure in ranchera song, to which she gave a new lease of life.

Dressed like a man, smoking and drinking like a man, carrying a pistol, "the lady with the red poncho, silver hair and brown flesh" as the Spanish singer Joaquín Sabina described her, is characterised by her red sarape.

In a television interview in 2000, she came out as a homosexual woman. This is where the text at the beginning of the post is from!

Chavela's career reached its peak from the recording of her first album (Noche de Bohemia) in 1961 until the end of the 1970s. This was followed by a long period of fifteen years, during which the singer, suffering from a heavy addiction to alcohol, interrupted her musical career, which she did not resume until 1991.

Encouraged by her friend, the director Pedro Almodóvar, who compared her to Édith Piaf, Chavela embarked on a world tour, performing at the Olympia in Paris and Carnegie Hall in New York. Among her most outstanding performances was Tú me acostumbraste by Frank Domínguez in Pedro Almodóvar's film Babel. Being a close friend of Pedro, she has appeared in several of his films, including The Flower of My Secret.

Following a final concert in Madrid on 10 July 2012 to present her album (La Luna Grande), she was hospitalised in the Spanish capital with serious respiratory problems. She died on 5 August 2012, aged 93.

I am sure you know at least one of her song, La Llorona !

In any case, Chavela was an immense artist who had a profound impact on music, and I'm delighted to have discovered her, or rather re-discovered her. I listened to some of her songs and they're amazing if you like that kind of music ! And please look her up yourself, she was such an interesting person, I couldn't talk about everything in this post or it would have been too long !

[elzdaizy]

Trouble After Paradise (Part 1)

Warnings: lots of angst, conflict, explicit language.

Summary of short story: Reader and Harry have returned from their honeymoon to a harsh reality and their first huge hurdle as a married couple.

A/N: This is 1 of 3 parts. Enjoy! Just a little short story idea i had and wanted to share with you all.

It’s been four weeks since you returned home from your honeymoon in Costa Rica and you’ve found yourself reminiscing constantly on that magical holiday.

To say the least, things have took a turn for the worst since you and Harry got home.

You were bombarded with mountains of piles of work to get through because there was no one to fill your position whilst you’d taken the month off leading up to your wedding, including the honeymoon.

Harry had started filming his next movie, one that was mentally draining due to his character being a very unwell mental patient at a psychiatric hospital.

You worked from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon in the office but always brought home some work to do which kept you busy until about eight at night when you’d get into bed.

Weekends were exhausting as well, you were catching up with friends and family after basically being off the grid throughout the week.

Harry’s shooting location, thankfully, was only a few hours away up north in Manchester so he managed to be home often between breaks but unfortunately meant that he wasn’t home with you for periods of times.

He tries his best to be at home with you on the weekends but his schedule doesn’t work that way all the time. On average you probably see each other a total of two days out of the week and it’s been this way the past four weeks.

You’ve both been so busy, you’ve barely had the time to live life together as a married couple. There’s a tension building full of stress and exhaustion on both ends of your marriage. You find yourselves bickering when you’re together and getting on each other’s nerves more than ever before.

You know it’s because you’re equally annoyed with yourselves and each other with the current situation.

It’s 8pm on a Friday night and Harry called you earlier that morning to let you know he’s coming home today at around 6:30pm and will be able to stay the full week until he’s off again. He asked for you to pick him up from the station because he had booked a meal at The Ivy for 8pm. You of course said yes. You were so excited to hear the news, you felt tears well up in your eyes. “I really can’t wait, I miss you so much.” You replied before you both said your goodbyes and I love you’s before hanging up.

What you didn’t know was that working would be busier than ever that Friday and now you’re still in the office trying to hurry up and finish off one last piece of paper work to be sent off to your client before the weekend. Your phone had died two hours ago and Harry hadn’t contacted you before it died so you weren’t too concerned that he would’ve tried to since then.

You could cry out of frustration. You purposely stayed back to get all this extra work done so you could book off Monday and Tuesday to extend your weekend to spend some time with your husband.

Half an hour later, you finally send the email and pack up your stuff. You race to your car and make your way home. The door is unlocked when you go to turn the key and your heart skips a beat when you realise that Harry must be home.

The lights are all off downstairs which is odd so you make your way upstairs to your bedroom to find Harry sat on the edge of the bed in just his underwear and his phone in his hands.

“Hi, baby.” You softly speak up as you walk through the door and put your bag and coat over the chair in the corner of the room.

Harry glances at you over his shoulder briefly without so much as a tiny acknowledgment of your presence before looking back to his phone.

You frown, thinking his behaviour seems a bit off. The energy in the room seems low and you can sense he’s not in a good mood.

You walk over to him, a hand on his shoulder and the other hand reaching to lift his head by tilting his chin in your direction for him to look up at you. As soon as you try to lean forward to place a kiss to his lips he yanks his head away from your touch and rolls his eyes, letting out a huff.

You step back, very offended and extremely hurt by his cold actions.

“Fuck you, then.” You throw your hands up and storm away to head downstairs to the kitchen. You’re literally trying so hard not to break down and cry right now so you’re pacing around your kitchen, breathing heavily for a few moments then deciding to pour yourself a large glass of wine.

You almost down the first glass. The second one being poured less than five minutes later. You’re just stood by your kitchen island with a glass of wine in one hand and thoughts racing around your mind as you try to figure out why your husband seems to despise you at the moment.

You soon realise it could possibly be the fact that your phone was dead and maybe he was trying to get ahold of you.

You start to feel a pit of guilt in your stomach when you take your phone from your pocket and plug it into the charger point next to your toaster.

You finish your second glass of wine once your phone switches on and your eyes widen when you notice the ten missed calls and five unread messages from Harry.

You read the texts carefully one at a time.

From Harry:

6:09pm - l’m fifteen minutes away from the station if you want to set off now. Love you. Xx

6:30pm - Where are you? I’m waiting near the security box until you’re here. Xx

6:53pm - I’ve rung you five times and you’re not answering so I’m making my own way home now.

7:26pm - Why aren’t you answering and why aren’t you at home? You do realise we have to be at The Ivy in half an hour.

8:03pm - cancelled the booking. If you read this before you come home - don’t bother me when you get in, I can’t be arsed with this tonight.

You heart feels like it’s going to stop. You have never felt more terrible in your life. You feel like a punch to the gut is what you deserve right now and nothing less. And to think, you literally just spat in his face and said fuck you to him, still not realising what you’d done.

You were so fixated on wanting to spend the week with Harry that you’d completely forgotten about picking him up and going out for dinner tonight.

You were a little drunk and very upset with yourself so of course the only thing currently you did was start to cry. You sat on a stool at your island, lent your elbows on the countertop, put your face in your hands and sobbed. Sobbed for your husband and how upset he must be feeling. Sobbed at the realisation of how much you hurt him and let him down. You felt like a failure.

After about thirty minutes of letting your feelings flow out of your system uncontrollably, you composed yourself and prepared yourself to go and apologise profusely. You’d gone over what to say in your head a million times and nothing sounded good enough but you know the least he deserves is an apology rather than an explanation or excuse right now.

Your face is puffy and red from the crying as you shakily walk up the stairs to your room and find Harry is now laying under the covers with the tv on, watching a movie with a deep frown on his face. As if he’s in deep thought rather than paying attention to the screen.

You push the door open gently and let yourself in. Basically walking with your tail between your legs, you can barely look at him as you sit on the bottom corner of the bed on your side. You couldn’t be further away from him on the bed if you tried.

“Harry, I’m so sorry.” You croak. Lips quivering as you fight the urge to break down crying again. You finally look at him after your first attempt at the beginning of a long apology. He’s ignoring you. Keeping his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed over his chest.

You decide to keep speaking, “I completely understand why you’re angry and I don’t want to give myself any excuses for-.”

He reaches for the remote and turns up the volume to drown out your voice.

You let out a shaky sigh. A tear slipping down your cheek. “I didn’t ignore you on purpose- look, can you please just say something?” You beg pathetically and Harry’s head turns as his eyes look at you with anger.

“Told you I can’t be fucked with this tonight just leave me alone, please.” He sighs in annoyance before completely turning his back to you as he lays on his side.

You really don’t know what to say now. You didn’t expect this reaction from him. He’s never been this angry with you before and it’s terrifying you slightly because you really can’t cope with it. You don’t even care if he shouts at this point, you just want more of a reaction from him.

He has every right to feel the way he does, you know that. You hate going to sleep on bad terms though. You both agreed to always resolve conflicts before getting into bed because you never wanted to be that couple that gets into fights and makes one or the other sleep on the sofa.

It seems like it’s going to be that way tonight though. You don’t want to say another word because you don’t want to make it worse. Even though you know you won’t get much sleep, you decide to go sleep downstairs on the couch. You could go sleep in the spare room but you need a tv to distract you from your racing thoughts so the living room it is.

You get up from the bed, go take a quick shower and change into your pyjamas before grabbing your pillow from your side of the bed and walking towards the door.

“Goodnight, Harry. I love you.” You say to him softly before closing the door behind yourself and making your way downstairs.

You turn on a shitty reality show to fall asleep too. It takes a few hours but eventually you drift off.

The next morning you’re awoken by the sound of the blender rattling off in the kitchen. You feel at peace for a split second as your groggy memory clears up as your consciousness comes back, along with the awful events of last night. You grimace start yourself as you sit up on the couch and turn around to see Harry standing in the kitchen, making himself a smoothie, dressed in his running gear.

It mustn’t be any later than 6am because he only likes going running at the crack of dawn. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet but you know he’s still fuming by the look on his face.

Now that you’re not intoxicated and knowing it’s a new day, you’re determined to resolve this issue very soon. You don’t want to waste any more of the short time you two have together for the next four days being bitter.

You get up from the couch and stretch before walking over to the kitchen island and taking a seat on the stool you were sobbing on last night.

“Morning.” You say with a tired voice as Harry still hasn’t acknowledged you whilst he’s cleaning up some dishes. You’re both facing each other on opposite sides of the island.

Harry looks up at you frowning and doesn’t reply so you take it as your queue to go in strong with all guns blazing.

“Can we please talk about this now?” You plead. Harry just deadpans and looks at you with a look that tells you no as he picks up his AirPods and puts them in as he makes his way to the door to go on his run.

“What the actual fuck! This is an actual fucking nightmare.” You frustratingly shout to no one but yourself after Harry closes the door on his way out.

[perfectly-m1saligned]

K!nktober day 4

Followin @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day four: food play; biting/marks; drunk sex (they were all too good to not make a story with all of them). You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Husband! Simon)

cw: Simon is obsessed with his wife (as he should), oral (both f and m receiving), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2628

a/n: this is my longest one yet, but trust me, it's WORTH IT

No one would've ever pinned Lieutenant Simon Riley for a romantic, not even you when you had first met him, really, yet you couldn't deny that your husband was full of surprises. The day you said "I do" at the altar, you didn't just get married to Simon, but to his job, too. And now, said job was the culprit behind your delayed honeymoon.

A dangerous mission had taken Task Force 141 somewhere in South America for two whole months, eight weeks in which you had barely received any updates from your husband from burner phones that made him sound like he was talking through a brick. Still, Simon never thought he would be grateful for a near-death experience, but apparently there's always a first time for everything. The mission had taken place in Costa Rica and, even though he was sent to the nasty part of it, he had been able to catch a glimpse of the crystal clear water, beautiful beaches, and the opportunities that the country had to offer to civilian tourists.

As soon as he came home to you, he had bought two plane tickets, but since his trip-planning skills were fairly limited, he hoped to make it up to you by booking the honeymoon suite at the fanciest all-inclusive resort he could find; also, he couldn't risk having you seeing the same atrocities he had while on mission.

Simon wasn't exactly the most tactful guy, so he didn't really provide any explanation when he tossed onto the bed the envelope with the two tickets inside, just a gruff "we're leaving in two days" and then he was out of the bedroom, leaving your confused, half-asleep form babbling like a fish out of the water.

You never pinned your husband for a romantic, but you couldn't have been any happier when, as you walked down the hotel's hallway to your suite, he picked you up bridal style, his heart melting at the sound of your sweet giggles, your arms wrapped around his neck as he carried you over the threshold of your room. Lucious, spacious, opening onto a small living room, an arched entryway led to the bedroom - and you wondered just how many people could fit in that gigantic bed - which was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, a wooden balcony extending outside, with an opening onto your very own personal pool, and the ocean right next to it. There was also a bathtub in the bedroom, and your heart clenched with sympathy for the cleaning ladies, what they had to see- and definitely what they would see after your stay.

The staff had left a fruit basket on the bed, a little note that you were now cradling between your fingers where they expressed their gratitude for choosing their establishment and wished their best to your marriage, and a bottle of expensive champagne. "How about we wait tonight to celebrate?" Simon asked, his voice a low purr next to your ear as he encircled your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. "How about you put on one of those sexy bikinis you packed and we go enjoy the free bar, hm?" You didn't have to be told twice before eagerly agreeing, "free bar" was possibly your favourite combination of words in the English language.

You decided on a plain black bikini, with two small golden chains that ran along the underside of your breasts, and a small golden pendant that hung off the side of your bikini bottoms. Simon was wearing matching black swimming trunks, his sculpted chest carrying battle scars, tattoos lining his left forearm, ink-stained skin that you ran your fingers on countless times, memorising every line and curve. You loved Simon's body, just like every other part of him, but sometimes you forgot that he didn't exactly look like a civilian, with his crooked nose and the silver scar cutting over his bottom lip. He didn't care about the dirty side-eyed glances he received from the people that crowded the beach; as long as he had those big eyes of yours looking up at him with love, like he hung the moon and the stars, he was happy.

"How much did you pay for the whole thing anyway?" You asked, sipping on your second - perhaps third - margarita, sitting at one of the high stools that surrounded the beach bar, your feet dipped in the water. "Eh, don't even remember," Simon lied. "But I had been saving a small sum on the side for our honeymoon." Your lips curled up in a warm smile, eyes twinkling and filled with love, even as you watched your 6'4", 250+lbs husband sip on some pink fruity cocktail.

The sun was setting, so you decided to head back to your suite to get ready for dinner. How you were going to achieve that was still unclear, since you were both fairly tipsy, your arm secured around his as you couldn't stop giggling. The moment the door closed behind you, Simon picked you up effortlessly, a small squeak leaving your mouth as the room started spinning around you. "Simon, we should-" your thought was interrupted by Simon's lips, catching yours into a scorching kiss, tongue impatiently running along your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you immediately granted, letting him delve deeper, coaxing a moan.

A growl rumbled in his chest, fingers digging in the supple flesh of your ass, pressing you against his chest impossibly closer. "Fuck the dinner," he whispered against your lips, his breath still carrying the liquor. "I need my wife." Before you could realise what was happening, your back hit the mattress, and soon Simon's weight followed as he settled himself between your thighs, caging you to the bed with two large hands on either side of your head. "And since the hotel staff was so kind..." he reached for one of the strawberries that laid in the fruit basket. "I have everything I need right here. A tasty meal," - he ran the strawberry down to the valley of your breasts, making you gasp - "and dessert." He said, sporting a cocky smirk as he brought the strawberry to his lips and bit into it.

He placed the unbitten part of the fruit between his lips, now tinted a faintly darker shade of pink, and he lowered his head. You met him halfway, snatching the strawberry with your own teeth before letting yourself fall back against the pillows. Simon watched you eat, brown irises almost eclipsed by his pupils, dilated by lust and the desire to fuck you stupid, the alcohol making his fingers itch to touch you even more. "What?" You asked, amused. He shook his head. "Just thinking about the ways I'm going to ruin you, my love." He whispered, running a hand over your bikini top, catching the small golden chain with his index finger, making you shudder with anticipation.

You never stopped being his good girl, so pliant under his touch as he undid the knots of your bikini top, discarding it onto the floor, and moved to remove your bottoms, so you lifted your hips to help him slide them down your legs. The both of you were still a little hazy, drunken giggles mixing with your breathy gasps, every touch of his fingers making your skin come alive with goosebumps. Simon took a moment to lean back and admire your naked form, the dips and curves he's memorised through the ears with every part of his body. He reached for the basket again. "Now I need you to stay still, love." He ordered with a purr, fetching some grapes, placing them in a neat line from your collarbone to your lower abdomen.

You kept your head and neck movements to a minimum, your eyes carefully following the way his fingers placed the little green grapes with care across your bare skin. A small chuckle made your chest stutter with mirth, causing one of the fruits to fall onto the mattress. Simon's eyes darkened in warning. "I said don't move, love. Or I'll have to punish you." Your eyes widened at the quietly-spoken threat, lips pressed together to suppress any unwanted sound or twitch of your body. When everything was in place, Simon slowly started to eat the grapes, lips closing around it and leaving a wet, warm mark on your body.

Once he'd caught the one that laid between your breasts, your chest suddenly caved as he proceeded to pepper the sensitive, supple flesh with more kisses, lips closing in on one of your erect nipples, making you hiss in pleasure. "Simon-" you called out with a moan. "Don't. Move." He growled, giving your other nipple a gentle pinch with his teeth, coaxing a whimper. As he continued his path down your torso, you couldn't help the giggle that involuntarily slipped past your lips when he caught the grape he'd placed on your navel, the swipe of his tongue tickling you. His large hands secured around your spread thighs, he gave them a punitive, bruising squeeze. "S- Sorry!" You squeaked meekly, earning a displeased hum from him as he chewed.

Finally, he reached the last one, and you almost bucked your hips upwards, body sizzling with anticipation. "Patience, my love," he whispered, hot breath fanning across your hooded clit as he swallowed the final grape. "Fuck..." you mewled, back arching away from the bed when he pressed his tongue flat onto your drenched slit, lapping up the arousal that had collected between your folds. He moaned, the vibration he sent against your pussy making you see stars. The alcohol in your system made you even more sensitive, your hole weeping with juices that leaked onto Simon's face, covering his lips and chin with a glistening coat.

"You taste so good, my love...fuck," he murmured, peppering your puffy lips with kisses. "So wet already, I can't wait to stretch that tiny hole with my cock." His words made you shudder, an incoherent babble leaving your mouth. "Hm? What was that, lovie?" He prompted, a wolfish grin on his face as he looked up at you through hooded eyes and bushy blonde brows. "Need...cock..." You managed to utter, hands fisting the pristine sheets as he kept his assault onto your sensitive cunt.

"Such a desperate little girl, you." He chuckled, circling your needy hole with the tip of his finger. "I know that you turn naughty after a few drinks but Jesus, baby, you're filthy tonight." His dirty talk made you chase his teasing finger with your hips, and he cooed, finally obliging to your silent plea and pushing his fore and middle finger into your needy entrance. You gasped, eyes wide open before you squeezed them shut again, He kept sucking onto your swollen and sensitive clit as he scissored against your gummy walls, stretching you out to accommodate him later. You were a squirming, moaning mess, leaking onto the bed sheets, leaving wet splotches, as you felt the heat coil in your stomach, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Simon...'m gonna..." A frustrated cry followed, as Simon withdrew his fingers and pulled away, making you prop yourself up on your elbows, brows furrowed in a scowl as he got up from the bed. "What the f-" you were silenced when he shoved his cock past your lips with one long thrust, balls hitting your chin as he buried himself in your throat. "That's it," he praised. "Good girl, take it all in that pretty mouth of yours." Hand fisting your hair in a makeshift ponytail, Simon fucked your face with deliberate thrusts, making sure you would coat the whole length of his shaft with your saliva. He grunted your name, chest heaving with ragged breaths, and he had to stop before he accidentally came in your mouth; he was more sensitive when he was drunk, but he wanted to enjoy the night to its fullest

Your lips made a soft 'pop' when Simon unsheathed himself, a string of drool still connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock. You looked up at your husband, doe-eyed, as he caught his breath. "Good girl, y/n, look at this," he held his member with one large hand. "Can't wait to fuck you stupid, love." A giddy grin grew on your lips, and you settled back onto the bed, eagerly waiting for him, but you saw him move away instead. "Si-"

"Easy, love, I'm just putting these in a safer location." He reassured you, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed the fruit basket and the bottle of champagne onto the desk. "Though I like seeing you like this, so desperate for my cock." You merely suppressed a pathetic whimper, cheeks glowing red at his filthy words. He made his way back, putting one knee after the other, mattress dipping under his weight as he ventured one again between your thighs. "Sorry for the delay, my love," he whispered, lips skimming the sensitive side of your throat. "But I wanted our honeymoon to be perfect, to make sure I could show you exactly how I'll treat you for the rest of our lives."

His teeth sank into the thin flesh, just as his tip entered your weeping hole, your breath taken away inch after inch. Simon growled, biting down harder until he kissed your cervix, fully buried inside you. "Oh fuck, Simon-" you hissed at the delicious ache caused by the stretch, the heels of your feet pressing down on his ass to somehow get him even deeper. "What a greedy little thing you are, y/n," he murmured, chasing away the sting of his bite, running a flat tongue over the deep red mark. "Already full of my cock yet you want more, hm? We'll see about that."

You weren't sure if sex could get you drunk, but it surely looked like you were drunk off your husband's relentless fucking, his merciless thrusts making your pussy release the the filthiest squelching sounds, his lower abdomen covered in your squirt, the room filled with your voiced pleasure as he held you in a mating press, knees bent at your ears. Simon had his hands secured on the back of your legs, hips angled so he could drive his hungry dick as deep inside you as possible, a proud smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, your neck and breasts covered in red and purple-ish marks. He wasn't exactly thinking about the fact that you would have to walk around practically half naked for the next two weeks; clearly, it wasn't really one of his concerns right now.

"Simon," you called out, your hands curling around his forearms, neatly manicured nails sinking into his skin. "Please, please, please, 'm gonna cum...please!" Simon welcomed your plea, keeping the exact same pace that was driving you over the edge, and felt your gummy walls clenching his length almost painfully as the orgasm wrecked through you, making you scream out his name. Your muscles were squeezing him so tight Simon couldn't really hold on much longer, his own orgasm finding release deep inside your warm cunt, the spasms of your womb drinking his cum greedily as he grunted your name.

Silence fell once you had both rode out your high, a low, pleased hum leaving his lips as he unsheathed himself, consequently collapsing onto the bed next to you. You were both sweaty and spent, yet too tired to get up to wash yourselves. "Simon?" You called out softly after a couple of silent minutes. "Hm?" He replied lazily. "Are we going to spend every day like this?" You asked. "Oh, for sure." He chuckled, snaking a hand around your waist to bring you into his chest, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not copy, translate and/or share on this on another platform without credit•

[sanccharine]

05:53 | mm

pairing: assassin!momo x handler!reader

summary: good speakers are good liars, too bad momo is neither. co-written by @eternallyghosting chapter summary: momo needs a fucking break

warning: feelings of anxiety and burn out, brief mentions of killing and weapons (generally assassination related themes)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: assassin!momo is here early bc of indigo, everyone say 'thank you indigo' !!! NEED TO MAKE THIS EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE, AS USUAL I DIDN'T DO SHIT <3

masterlist

“Good work in Johor Bahru, 64. The organization wants you to leave for Bergen right away. Proceed to the airport immediately. I’ll be sending over travel details soon.”

You were met with silence.

“64? Can you hear me?” Momo didn’t answer. 

You sighed, “64, I know it’s a bit of a long flight.” That was the understatement of the century. “But at least that’ll give you some time to recuperate before the next mission, right?”

“I don’t need to recuperate,” Momo mumbled. 

You hesitated for a moment. Clearly, she needed the rest, you didn’t know why she wasn’t being honest. 

“Listen, 64, I know it’s hard—” you began.

“I don’t think you do,” Momo let out a derisive laugh. You swallowed the rest of your sentence.

“Alright, I’ve obviously hit a nerve but I think—”

“I’m not asking you to think! Or sympathise! Or whatever it is you’re trying to do,” Momo spat. “Maybe just do your part of the job and I do mine, yeah, Hippolyta?” 

This was a new development. But not unfounded.

“Sorry,” she said after a few seconds of awkward silence, the waver in her breath caught by your sensitive earpiece. “Sorry, I’m just tired, alright? Please go on.”

“Uh, alright, as I was saying. After this, your Costa Rica mission has been pushed forward by a week. The client wants the cartel taken out as soon as possible,” it was difficult to give her the next order. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave for San Jose as soon as you wrap up in Bergen, 64.” 

You tried not to let the disappointment show in your voice. Your organization was currently going through an overdrive, which meant more missions kept piling on, leaving no rest for Momo. It had been weeks since you had last seen your wife, last hugged her, or held her. 

She reflected your disappointment as she just sighed. It must be harder for her. 

“Hey, 64,” it was so hard to be personable when you couldn’t say her name. You hoped your voice made up for it. “I’m sorry, I know—”

“You know nothing!” 

Whatever calm had come across her in the last few minutes instantly vanished. 

“You know nothing of what it’s like! What it’s like to be out here for hours on end! To stalk and hunt and kill! Actually, you know, it’s not even about lying in the dirt, or carrying around heavy weaponry, or eating shit for days just to stay undercover. That I can deal with,” Momo let out another scoff. “It’s the waiting that gets to you—it’s the travel, it’s the constant seeking of approval just to get back home… ” 

Once she started, it was hard to control everything bursting out of her. Although she had become pretty comfortable with Hippolyta, and often shared random conversations with them, this was the first time she had let anything personal spill. You couldn’t help but startle initially, but now you just sat there taking the verbal lashing. This wasn’t your fault, you were aware of that much. So why did it feel like it was?

“Mo… hmm, I—” you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying her name. Your heart ached for her. Not just because she was away from you, but also because you couldn’t share this burden with her. You couldn’t help her lighten the load.

Not as her handler. Not as her Y/N. 

You waited for Momo’s breath to even out. When she didn’t say anything, you decided to start again. 

“I may not know what it’s like being out on the field,” you had to tread carefully here. “But I do understand what it’s like being away from your loved one.” 

Your breath hitched when you admitted that. Neither of you had ever let something this personal come into your agent-handler relationship before.

“It’s just the kind of job we signed up for,” that’s all this was. A job. “I won’t deny it’s a shitty situation, but after that one week, you’re done. You can go home. I promise you that.”

The long silence almost had you double-checking the connection of the call.

“Hey, 64, you there?”

You were met with silence.

“Agent, I need an affirmation.”

“... Alright,” she whispered.

It wasn’t much, but you’d take it. After all, Momo had never strayed from official orders before. Not enough to risk her job, at least.

“Wait, what? So you’re telling me—”

“Yup, I’m in Bergen right now.”

“Woah, how did that happen? That must’ve been an insane journey!” you sounded fake to your own ears. You hoped Momo didn’t catch on.

“Yeah, remember when I didn’t answer any of your texts a few days ago?” Momo let out a laugh, there was no mirth to it. “I was on a plane the whole time.”

“I just assumed you lost track of time playing Candy Crush or something.”

That did bring a real laugh out of her. 

“Well, that too,” she said. “Did you know I’m on level 651 now?”

“Real impressive, babe,” you said toying with the earpiece, discarded on the coffee table from your last call. “But anyways, when are you coming back from Bergen then?”

She paused. You saw her pacing around her stuffy hotel room as she hesitantly answered. “Well, actually, I don’t think I can come home right away. They’re sending me to Costa Rica tomorrow.”

“What? Why?” you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the tiny box on the screen from time to time. You hated how fake your expressions looked, how you couldn’t be honest with her even when she needed you most. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s some internal management thing,” Momo let out a frustrated groan. “They need someone who’s at a higher position to open up the San Jose branch. Just my luck it happened to be me they chose.”

Momo’s disappointed tone broke your heart. You knew this was coming, of course you did, but hearing it once again from your wife’s mouth made the distance much too real all over again.

Still, you tried for a smile. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure San Jose will be fun. I’ve heard they have amazing museums there!” Knowing how upset Momo was about the constant travel made you want to try harder to be supportive. “Maybe you can go and take goofy pictures in front of the sculptures like we did that one time in Prague, remember?” 

Unfortunately, it seemed that no efforts to cheer her up would work this time. She let out another long groan and threw herself on the bed. Bringing the phone really close to her face, she said, “I really just wanted to come back home. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you.”

Shit. Of all the times to have video called Momo. 

Averting your eyes from her teary ones so that you wouldn’t cry too, you attempted to comfort her. 

“I know how tiring it must be to constantly travel, don’t beat yourself up over it, Momo. And don’t worry about me, okay! I’m fine, truly! I’ll keep everything up and running here while you whip rookies out there into shape. It’s what we do, right?” you were trying to convince yourself instead of her. “Besides, Mr Jones invited us for dinner and I know you really don’t want to have to sit through that again, right?” 

“Still, though,” she whispered, “you shouldn't have to go through that by yourself. I'd rather sit through that than here all alone.”

Oh Momo. If only she knew that you were aware of what she was going through.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll distract him and ask about his ‘good ol’ golfing days’. That’ll have him chattering on for hours,” she chuckled at that, although it was muffled since half her face was pressed into the pillow. “And I’ll also go down to the store and buy those berries you like so I have a pie ready for you when you come home. We’ll spend our time relaxing. How does that sound?”

She nodded sleepily. Momo must be exhausted to the point of falling asleep right there on call.

You doubted she heard you but said it anyway.  

“Have a good night, Momo. I love you.” 

[11:52] Momo: im boarding now Y/N: Have a safe flight! See you soon <3 Momo: me too, cant wait to be home aaaaa Y/N: I’ll be waiting with your pie!

[16:37] Momo: just landed! Y/N: How was the flight? Momo: eh Momo: were you gonna pcik me up or should i take a cab Y/N: You’ll have to get a cab, sorry. I tried rescheduling it but the town committee meetup is at our place tonight. Momo: omg i legit forgot they still did those Momo: i can take a cab dw Momo: you must be so busy Y/N: Yeah, I’m just making sure all the snacks and drinks are ready. Y/N: Might have to make one more grocery run actually.

[17:20] Momo: found a cab Momo: should be home in 40 mins

She sighed. You must be really busy or else you rarely left her on read.

As the cab neared your street, she could see a crowd of people already gathered around the house. This was what living in a small town was like. Everyone knew each other, and so of course, offered to get together to help for any event you held, no matter how small. 

They have nothing better to do with their lives.

Okay. Perhaps, that was a bit harsh. 

Thankfully, Momo managed to slip into the house, unnoticed by all the townsfolk laying out chairs and tables filled with plates of snacks that you had made. Her stomach grumbled upon seeing all the food, but she hurried upstairs into your shared bedroom before dropping her suitcase and rushing to change out of her travel clothes.

What she really wanted was a long hot shower, maybe even a soak in the tub, but fresh clothes would have to do for now. On her way out of the room and down the stairs, she bumped into you.

“Y/N!” she yelled the same time you screamed. “Momo!”

This would be an incredibly stupid way to die, the voice in the back of your head said, you shushed it quickly and leaned on the stairway railing. The shock had subsided quickly and was replaced by elation; you hugged Momo as hard as you could with the cutlery in your hand.

You broke apart apologetically. “I’m sorry, I wish you could take a rest but the meeting’s starting soon and we’re still missing a few things.”

“No worries,” Momo shrugged it off, though there was no energy in her voice. “Anything I can do to help?”

You passed over the handful of cutlery to her as you hurriedly stated, “Yeah, could you just lay these out for me? And I think we still need to pour some juice for all the kids.”

Momo nodded and went down the stairs two at a time. As she rounded into the kitchen, she wished she’d taken a minute to mentally prepare herself for all the questions the neighbours would no doubt ask her.

She was right. As soon as she went over to the table, she heard. “Oh Momo, when did you get back? Y/N was telling us how you were away for really long.”

Momo forced on a polite smile, she had no idea who she was talking to. Perhaps having files on her neighbours might help, she thought to herself. She made a mental note to ask Y/N how they remembered all these people. “Yes, I had to travel quite a lot for some business-related things, but I’m just glad to be home now.”

“Where was it you went to? Malaysia, was it?” Momo’s vision blurred for a second. “I remember Y/N telling us we had to cancel the meeting two weeks ago.” 

“Mhmm, Malaysia. Then Norway. Now, I just got back from Costa Rica.” Might as well just tell them everything. Sure, why not. Momo tried not to be scornful, she really did. 

“Good Lord, Momo! How do you even manage all that?” That was something Momo wondered herself. “It sure is nice you have Y/N to manage everything here for you while you’re away.”

A burning sensation grew at the corner of her eyes, she would’ve rubbed them if her hands weren’t full of forks and spoons. 

It was a seemingly unharmful statement. 

Well, no. 

There was a bite in there somewhere, Momo was just too exhausted to dissect it. 

Momo ignored the scratchy feeling in her throat and turned away hurriedly, mumbling something about getting the juice out. As she approached the refrigerator, she unceremoniously dropped the cutlery on the counter. She opened the fridge, the cold air doing little to alleviate her tension. When she pulled out the carton of apple juice, she was undertaken with the sudden urge to leave. Being at this gathering was taking more of a toll on her than she had thought.

Momo needed to be alone. Now.

She walked into the pantry and into the cabinet Y/N made sure to leave empty ever since they’d found out about her meditation space. Well, Momo thought bitterly, it wasn’t just a meditation space now, was it?

Momo crouched down, hugging her knees and seeking comfort in the familiar darkness. She could still hear the faint voices of people as they rushed around the house, but this was the best she could do right now.

When Momo closed her eyes, she could feel every muscle pull taut. A headache bloomed at her temple, building down her face until even the act of breathing felt painful. She tried to focus on the warm scent of the ciabatta loaves you always had stocked up. How the bread broke and crumbled as she took a bite. How adamant you’d been to get the best stand mixer available. How you took your time to shape the dough and how Momo had flattened it with one motion. 

What she wouldn’t do to just have a simple sandwich with you. 

No loud music. No clanging cutlery. And definitely no nosy neighbours.

Just the two of you.

The pain seemed to slowly ebb away, she could finally breathe. Momo had no idea how long she stayed like that. She didn’t want to leave but she couldn’t even text Y/N to apologise for leaving them alone because she’d forgotten her phone with her luggage.

However, she didn’t have to wait long before the pantry door opened. 

Momo hid herself deeper in the cabinet when a knock came on its door, an excuse ready on her lips should she be found…

“Momo,” your voice was soft, she wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t pressed to the door. “It's me.”

Momo visibly relaxed when she heard Y/N.

“Can I come in?”

The answer was the opening of the cabinet door.

As soon as you lowered yourself onto the floor, Momo launched herself into your arms, clutching onto you as though her life depended on it. Confused by the sudden outburst but also suspecting what could have brought it on, you just gathered her closer and gently brushed her hair with your fingers.

“How did you… ”

“Find you here? Couldn't see you in the crowd so I figured,” you shrugged.

“Can we... can we just stay here for a moment?” she sniffled, burrowing her head into your neck.

“Momo, you don’t even have to ask. I’m here for you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a long time intertwining your limbs against each other. You rubbed up and down her arms gently, taking deep breaths so she’d mirror you and relax.

When her breathing returned to a normal rate, you pulled back slightly to look at her face. Although still pale from hunger and exhaustion, she looked considerably better than she had a while ago.

“How’re you feeling?” you whispered.

“Still tired, but I’m okay now,” Momo said, her voice raspy. “Thanks for staying with me.”

You took a moment to take her in. The dim light couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes or how bloodshot they were. She had a pallid complexion, something you would’ve rushed to treat, but instead, you had this stupid meeting to run. But even then, Momo tried to put on a smile for you, as small as it was. Smiling, you pulled her in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

With a sigh, you pulled away from her. Her face was held up by your hands. “Although there hasn’t been any yelling or crashing yet, I don’t think it’s right to leave them without a host for too long.”

Momo languidly nodded her assent even when the rest of her body reacted differently. She pressed her forehead to yours until your noses were touching. 

Momo deserved to rest. And you wanted that for her too. If possible, you would have stayed here like this all night long. But alas… 

“I should probably head back,” you whispered. Momo only hummed. “but you can stay here longer if you—”

“No,” Momo mumbled. 

“No?” you asked, not wanting to pull away first. 

Momo did it for you. She exhaled a deep breath before pulling back, her eyes finally looking at you. 

“No, that's fine,” Momo said, shaking her head before helping herself up. Then she extended a hand to you. “We should host together, shouldn’t we?”

“We really should,” you took her hand and pulled yourself up. “I’ve already canceled this three times, I think they’d flip out if it was only me out there,” you said with a grimace. 

Holding hands, you exited the pantry together.

Thankfully, everyone was too caught up in the snacks you’d made to comment on your disappearance. Momo just ignored the few stares thrown her way. Making your way to the front of the living room, you called for everyone’s attention and began the town meeting, steadfastly holding onto Momo’s hand the entire time.

Although the townsfolk had also helped in clearing up after the meeting, there were a few things only you two could rearrange as the people living in the house. You wanted Momo to go upstairs and rest while you quickly cleaned up, but she was as stubborn as ever and refused to leave your side. Fortunately though, having two people definitely made the job go quicker, and before long, you were heading into the en-suite to draw a bath for Momo.

You turned off the hot water at the temperature you knew Momo liked most before adding a spoonful of lavender bath salts to the water, your gift to Momo from when she had returned from a mission complaining of sore muscles. She smiled gratefully at you as she slipped into the tub, leaving you to once again sit on the cold floor beside her. Not that you minded, you’d take any proximity you could get. The both of you just sat there, basking in the comfortable silence as Momo relieved her weary body.

Eventually, you spoke up, making sure to be cautious in the way you approached this topic. “Do you want to talk about what happened downstairs?”

Momo looked at you with a look, a knowing one, but she turned her eyes away quickly. 

“What? About Hector?” Momo managed to laugh, it almost sounded real. “Yeah, it was funny when he stood up and demanded we vote for a stop sign near the corner store, only to realize we’ve had it all along and he needed to change his glasses prescription.”

“Momo,” you took her hand that was laying on the edge of the bathtub. “Seriously.”

She finally turned to face you with a sigh, deciding not to run away this time. 

“I was doing as you said, the cutlery, that is,” Momo’s finger intertwined with yours, she trained her focus on your joint hands. “Someone was asking me questions, I don’t know who, asking about my job and where I’d been and whatnot… and then suddenly,” she paused to take a deep breath, her eyes filling with tears.

You brought your other hand to engulf hers and rubbed your thumb across the back of her hand in circular motions.

“Suddenly, out of nowhere, they said something about how I’m lucky to have you manage everything around here while I’m away,” she trailed off, a small scoff escaping her. Momo mumbled, but you caught every word. “Well, not out of nowhere, they are right. I am lucky. I’m never here.”

“Momo…” 

She continued, talking through her tears, not bothering to wipe them away as they slipped down her cheeks. 

“I just… you’re the one who always has to manage things around here. I just feel bad, you know?” Momo straightened, turning her whole body to face you as an odd resolve washed over her. “Like, I’m always busy flying around somewhere but you always accommodate me and my work. But I don’t do anything like that for you? Actually, what do I even do?” At that, you wanted to stop her, but she kept going. “I guess I feel incompetent? I’m just equal parts grateful for you but also, I feel guilty.”

That was a lot to take in. Momo was never one to bare her soul, so for her to say all this meant she had been bottling it up for quite some time.

“Well, I see it differently,” you leaned in as you formed the words in your mind. “You’re doing all this to provide for us and you work so hard for it. This house, everything we have, is all possible because of you. I could never be upset about that, Momo.” 

“I guess,” Momo sounded unconvinced. “But like maybe I could do more local work? That way, I could stay at home with you and work?”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t ask that of you. I can’t say I don’t miss you when you’re gone. And of course, I love having you around.” 

You spoke slower so the words sunk in. 

“But you’re doing what you have to do,” you tried to be as vague as possible when saying the next few words. “I mean, your company sends you all over the world because you’re a hard worker, and a really good one at that. No one is going to be able to do what you do anytime soon and I’m proud of that. Of you.” 

Momo didn’t say anything, she was staring at something behind your head. Her eyebrows were furrowed together; for once, you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“But the work itself… ” she trailed off, still staring into the distance.

That confession, if that was what she was planning it to be, had you on alert. You had to be careful here. Somehow, you had to glean Momo’s feelings about her ‘actual job’ without asking outright questions about it. 

“What about the work, baby?” you asked. The term of endearment felt sour on your lips. Momo didn’t look at you. 

You had to bite your tongue from interrogating her. Is it monotonous? Is it stressful? Are you having second thoughts about killing? Do you want to be transferred? What’s wrong? What can I do? How can I fix it?

She didn’t speak for a long time. 

Panic was beginning to sink its claws into your skin. You were a good liar, but not that good. 

Fortunately for you, Momo began once again. 

“The work… I mean, sure, every job has its own boring routine and mine does too. It is exciting at times and I’m good at it too, which I can’t confidently say for a lot of other things,” you wanted to interrupt her and tell her how wonderful she was, but she spoke over you. “And I don’t really want to quit right now because we’re also earning decently.“ 

“Enough for an early retirement in the Swiss Alps, right?” you uttered before you could even think about it. 

When she had first been accepted as an agent by your organisation, Momo had excitedly jumped around your tiny one-bedroom flat. Making big talk about how the two of you would buy a cottage in the Swiss Alps and go skiing every day in the winter and strawberry picking every day in the summer.

Reminiscing about the memory bought a real smile out of her. “Exactly.”

But the smile slowly faded as she kept talking. “I just… wish I didn’t always have to keep traveling. I barely get a few days with you before I have to fly out again. And I know that’s a part of my job, it's just that this time around was too long.”

You silently agreed. What was the organisation thinking, making an agent go three weeks out in the field, one mission after the other. You don’t even recall how many cups of coffee you’d downed just to keep up with the time differences. 

“Well, you’re here now,” you placed a kiss over your joined hands. “And we’re going to make the most of it. Hopefully, you get more than a few days this time.”

“Yeah, hopefully,” she repeated, although she sounded anything but.

You bit back the long sigh and nudged her instead, looking for a way to divert her attention. “I couldn’t tell you before, but your pie’s waiting for you in the fridge.”

Momo sat up at that. You jerked back to narrowly avoid being splashed by water. “Me too! Well, not a pie but I did manage to bring back a dessert called Cajetas this time. I didn’t have time to taste it but the lady selling them told me they’re a staple.” 

Her eyes finally regained their usual shine at the mention of the two of you sharing desserts. It had been a longtime tradition for you to bake her favorites when she came back from a long journey, and for her to get local items you both could try together.

“Unfortunately, I’m too stuffed now,” she finally relaxed into the tub, tipping her head back. “Those finger sandwiches were delicious Y/N. What did you put in them?”

“Love,” you said dreamily, before pressing another kiss to the hand you were holding. Momo pulled away and cringed. “What, too much?” you laughed, “besides, I don’t think they were that amazing. You were just really hungry,” you said, poking her shoulder.

Momo just hummed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you.

Although the bathwater would’ve been cooler by now, she looked too comfortable to be asked to move. 

By the time Momo finally got out of the bathtub and into the towel you were holding out for her, the water had gone completely cold.

“Ugh, my skin is all wrinkly now”, she complained.

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s giving me a good idea of what you’d look like in another thirty years.”

“And?” she twirled around. “What do you think?”

You gave her a once over. “I think… I think I’ll stay with you for more than thirty years if that’s what you’re going to look like.”

After a quick change into your respective pajamas for the night (with you having to change again due to a mock water fight you two had), you ushered Momo into bed.

“Are you not sleeping now?” she asked, when you didn’t get into bed with her.

“Just about to, don’t worry,” you replied, straightening her edge of the comforter, effectively tucking her in.” Mariko asked for an order of cupcakes for her kindergarten class next Tuesday, so I’m just going to make a note of that before I forget.” 

She pouted, drawing out an arm from under the covers and pulling you down by your sleeve. Leaning down, you had no choice but to look right into her puppy-dog eyes, nearly shutting from exhaustion were it not for Momo resisting her body, fighting to stay open. “I wanted to cuddle but I’m already,” she broke off into a yawn, “falling asleep.”

You kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, I’ll be back before you know it,” you whispered.

“G’night,” she mumbled with drooping eyes.

Your demeanor changed the minute you left the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. Throughout the evening, you’d noticed how burnt out Momo seemed, and this late-night conversation further proved that she desperately needed a rest. You grabbed your laptop and keyed in a call to your organization, late hours be damned.

“Hippolyta to HQ. Calling in regards to Agent 64.” You waited for the call to go through.

After a few minutes of having to listen to the ridiculous call tone they had put in (seriously why on earth would someone want to listen to that Piña Colada song while they waited to make a serious report), you were about to pull out your earpiece and give up when a bored robotic voice answered, “Hippolyta, your call has now been cued. State your report and wait for an agent.”

You cleared your throat before saying. “As her handler, I believe Agent 64 is in need of a short leave, allowing her time to recuperate and be mentally on track for any and all future missions.” Hopefully, that should be enough to get an agent connected to you.

After another couple minutes of listening to the godforsaken song, a voice sounded on the other end. “This is Baklava to Hippolyta. Your report has been recorded. Do you have other details you wish to share?”

“It’s exactly as I said before. I noticed a change in Agent 64’s behaviour and mental state through her last couple missions, and I believe it would do her good to take a temporary break.”

“Agent 64, huh? Let me see, I’ll pull up her file here.”

“Oho,” you heard after some shuffling on the other end of the call, “so this is the infamous Agent 64 and Hippolyta. I see. Well, I’m afraid I have to deny your inquiry and cannot grant her the break.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised that a decision had been made so quickly. “Why?”

“Clearly, her being your wife makes it a point of personal interest. We can’t really have that, so she’ll continue on her missions as usual.”

“Excuse me, but in all these years, I have never let personal feelings get in between our working relationship.” You could feel your anger rising and had to be careful not to raise your voice too much, lest Momo wake up. “In fact, as her handler, I have made sure to push her exactly as much as she needed to get her missions done. She has a ninety-eight percent success rate, only possible because we don’t let personal feelings get in our way.” 

“Nah, but in this case, Agent 64 has not filed for a break herself. You doing this on her behalf shows vested interest.” 

You didn’t know if it was because of the late hour, but this conversation with Baklava was going nowhere and you were starting to get frustrated. You sighed.

“What’s the matter, Hippo, going soft for your wife? Is that it?” the voice sneered.

You saw red. No one except Momo was allowed to call you that. 

“Grant Agent 64 the break or else you’ll lose not only your best assassin but also one of your best handlers,” you gritted your teeth.

The line suddenly cut.

Fuck.

You didn’t really want to have to go through the whole process of reporting your inquiry again, but for Momo you would do it another hundred times.

Just then, a new voice was heard through your earpiece.

“Hippolyta, this is Shooting Guard. Your report has been transferred over to me.”

Shooting Guard… the name was familiar to you.

“Hippolyta speaking. Not sure how much of my report was transferred over but it’s in regards to Agent 64.”

“Oh yes, I know about your wife, Hippolyta. What’s the matter?”

It suddenly hit you. Of course Shooting Guard was a familiar name. He had been an agent a year above you at the training centre, a hardworking and calculative senior, but friendly once you got to know him.

“Well, I know the organisation has been working through some things right now—” you heard a scoff on the other end, “but 64 has been on individual missions for three weeks straight. She would never say this outright but I can tell the constant travel is getting to her. As… as her handler of course, not her partner,” you hurried to add, lest you were misunderstood once again.

To your surprise Shooting Guard said, “I believe that being her spouse makes you all the more attuned to how she’s doing Hippolyta. And with your spotless record so far, having a spouse as a handler doesn’t seem to be working negatively at all.”

“Does that mean you can get her leave approved?” you asked, hopeful.

“Well, that’s the difficult part. In your words, the organisation is working through things right now,” he chuckled without mirth.  

“Please, just get her a psych eval or something. Anything that grants her a break,” you were coming across as pleading when you should have been firm, but Momo’s wellbeing was at stake here.

“Let me see what I can do.” You heard him hum as he clicked on various files, rearranging calendars and rescheduling appointments, no doubt, before he finally broke the silence.

“I can give her two weeks. That fine?”

“More than fine. Truly, thank you, Shooting Guard,” the stress visibly left your shoulders.

“Don’t mention it. The agents around here need a fucking break anyways.”

You logged off the call once you got the final approval that your report had been accepted. You couldn’t wait to see Momo’s joyous face when she would break the news to you tomorrow. But for now, sleep was calling.

As you made your way back upstairs, a smile spread across your face at the thought of spending the next two weeks with your wife. When you entered your bedroom, Momo was fast asleep, sprawled across the large bed, somehow taking up enough space for two people. You shook your head fondly as you turned off the lights, slipping in beside her. As if sensing your presence, she pressed herself closer to you, wanting to be together even in sleep. You looped an arm around her torso and held her tight. 

Yes, you certainly were excited to spend two weeks with her. But most of all, you were glad your bed would be warm with her presence again.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: so that poll... y'all be impatient as fuck (and i be lazy as fuck bc i think i was the only one who voted for this being split JLDFKSHFK) anyways happy misamo day and have a good day/night !!

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @happilychaengs