#normalize periods

Transcript in case you can't read my shitass handwriting:

"Dempsey are you okay?"

(Guy who has a complex over being seen as weak) "yeah I'm -"

(Also be careful not to breathe in the fumes when it's working and be aware that it might also bleach the treated spot)

the reason society is disgusted by period blood is because it comes out of a woman’s vagina.

But that’s the same hole every single human on this planet came out too (except for c-sections but you get the point)

(Agustín is a great tío, y’all)

It was 11:30 at night when Dolores jerked awake from a dead sleep. Cramps were tearing through her and her eyes watered at the painful sensations that only seemed to get worse with every movement. For the millionth time in her life, she wished someone could hear her and come to her rescue. She groaned when she realized she had bled through her nightgown, but the pain was too bad in the moment and she decided against changing. She took her robe from the hook next to her bed and pulled it on, desperately hoping to get to the bathroom for some relief.

Stepping out of her room, she paused suddenly in the hallway, the glow of her door reflecting off of her face. Tilting her head down, she made out sounds from the kitchen. Tia was still awake! Julieta had a raspberry tea blend that she always brewed special for her niece, sister, and daughters hidden carefully in her pantry for only these occasions. Dolores could have cried in relief at the realization. Tia Julieta would help. She only had to get herself downstairs.

The house rattled gently in an offer.

“No, Casita. Your tiles will wake someone. I’m okay.”

The house seemed to murmur a reply. If you change your mind, let me know.

Dolores’ bare feet were quiet against the floors of the house as she made her way downstairs, cringing as more blood emerged. She hadn’t expected it so soon and was more unprepared than she normally was. Hopefully her robe would be spared until she could get her rags. Embarrassment be damned, it was only tía Juli and she’d understand. Maybe she’d have an emergency stash in her apron. Turning the corner, Dolores made her way into the bright kitchen, ready to cry into Julieta’s arms, when she suddenly froze.

“Tío?!”

Agustín was at the sink, washing the remainder of the wine glasses from dinner. He jumped slightly, but mercifully didn’t drop anything.

“Dolores? You’re still awake?”

“Where’s tía?” Dolores asked with a hint of desperation. Her voice sounded needier than she wanted. Hopefully Tío Agustín wouldn’t be offended that she had asked for Julieta instead. Another cramp was coming on and she held her abdomen in preparation. Her pain always seemed to be the worst of the family, sometimes landing her in bed for a few days.

“Oh, I finally sent her to bed,” Agustín replied with a smile even though concern lined his face as he looked at his sobrina. “She had been up since 4:30 in the morning and I insisted on finishing the dishes. So far, nothing’s broken.”

“That…that’s good,” Dolores nodded. Craning her ear, she could faintly make out hear her Tia’s deep, easy breaths as she slept. She wanted to cry. Julieta had a calmness that even Pepa didn’t have and even though the young woman loved her mother, she needed a calm and reliable mood when she felt unwell and in pain. “Okay, thanks. Uh, and…um…buenes noches, tio.”

“Hey, hold on now,” Agustín said, his brows coming together in a worried frown. He dropped the towel on the counter and walked forward to place a practiced hand on Dolores’ forehead and then her shoulder. “You came down for a reason, didn’t you? And you seemed surprised to see me instead of Juli. I know your super hearing tends to dim a bit when you don’t feel well. Are you sick, pequeño buho?”

Dolores gave a weak smile at her Tios childhood nickname for her. He had called her “little owl” due to her large, beautiful, and dark eyes before her gift ceremony and then it was cemented afterwards when he told her that owls had some of the best hearing of any bird in the world. Agustín had presented her with a stuffed owl he had sewn together for her sixth birthday, and it remained one of her most treasured possessions.

“Well…um…”

Dolores hesitated slightly, not quite knowing what to say. Agustín had always made her feel safe, but she struggled somehow to talk to him about the truth.

“Is it something I can help with?”

“Uh…”

Agustíns eyes continued to regard her face with worry until they drifted to his nieces hands clutching her lower abdomen. A look of understanding—no doubt from raising three daughters— passed over his face.

“Ahh. I see.”

Dolores didn’t have much time for embarrassment. Her eyes watered as another strong cramp came on and she whimpered and flinched. Apparently it would be one of those months where things were especially nasty. Agustín motioned towards a chair and helped her sit, gently rubbing her back. Dolores struggled not to cry. Agustín handed her a bowl, (just in case, given that Isa got nauseous on her cycle) and then reached underneath the sink and pulled out a hot water bottle that Julieta kept for her sore muscles and filled it. He handed it to his niece, who took it with a grateful smile.

“Here. And…maybe try a deep breath or two.”

“I’ll try,” Dolores responded with some amusement. People said the same to her mother during her anxiety attacks. Sometimes breathing didn’t come as easily as people assumed it did, but as the heat from the bottle spread through her, relief slowly started coming and she relaxed into her chair, praying that more blood wouldn’t come. Agustín handed her a towel (“If you need it for…you know”) and she took it. For a moment, uncle and niece sat quietly, if a bit awkwardly, together. For as much time as they spent together in the house, this was a new situation for them. Agustín started cleaning his glasses on his vest when Dolores finally spoke.

“Tía…has a tea.”

Agustín smiled at her and refit the glasses on his face . “Do you know which one?”

“Not the exact one. I think it’s one of her specialty blends. It’s pink…and she has chocolate too, somewhere.”

“Hmm,” Agustín hummed as he opened the cabinets. “Let’s take a look. The chocolate at least…I think I know where she keeps it.”

“You don’t “think you know”, tío. I know you steal tía’s chocolate,” Dolores said with a smile. The heat was helping quite a bit and she was feeling more comfortable.

Agustín laughed and turned back towards his niece. “It’s really no use lying to you is it?”

“Last month she ran out early just before Alejandra Sanchez’s birthday. I heard her check the cupboards six times and she was not happy. She muttered something about you a few times and tried to find you, but you were hiding in the library.”

“Thanks for protecting me on that one. I felt so guilty until the next batch came in. Although when it did, I didn’t feel too badly to not sample a bit more.”

“I heard that too! Right as she turned her back, too. You’re terrible, tío Gus! One of these days…”

“You’ll rat me out? You’d do that to me?” Agustín asked in mock offense, clutching his chest.

Dolores giggled, rolled her eyes, and adjusted the water bottle. “Ay, tío...”

Agustín closed the tea cabinet after searching for a few minutes with an apologetic look.

“Dolores, I’m afraid your tía lets me in the kitchen so infrequently that I don’t have a good grasp on the types of her teas. There are about six or seven pink blends here, but I’m not sure how to tell which one you need. I can, however, do you one better. How about a chocolate santafereño?”

“Oh!…” Dolores paused.

Now that did sound wonderful and Agustín’s skills at making the beverage were not a secret in the family. The drink was very popular in Bogotá, where he had been born. All the Madrigal children had begged him to make it for them at least everyday when they were younger and he would oblige and tell them stories of the modern and sophisticated city where he had lived as a young child. Dolores never tired of hearing them and now that her appetite was back, she could feel her stomach growl. However, it was late and she didn’t want her tío missing his own rest on her account, so she continues “It’s late, and you just finished so get some rest Tío Gus. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Sorry,” Agustín replied, pulling out a pot from the drawer where Julieta kept them. “I saw your eyes light up at the mention of my famously amazing hot chocolate, so I’m afraid I need to make you one. It’s in the tío rule book.”

Dolores grinned at her doofus of an uncle. “Well, if it’s in the book…sounds great.”

“You got it,” Agustín replied. He found the chocolate stash with ease, of course, and began chopping away. “I made this for your mamá on her wedding day, you know.”

“You did? When?”

“After the downpour. We were all soaked and came back her before the reception to dry off a bit. The town was quite a sight and in addition to being soaked to the skin, I figured it would help your mamá’s mood so any surviving trees that were left in town weren’t uprooted with another storm.”

“And it worked?”

“I like to think it helped, but your papa was the main source of her joy that day. I had never seen her more happy. Once the ceremony was over, everything dried up pretty fast. Your tía was soaked to the skin and her hair had come undone. When the sun came out, she left it down and it dried into the most beautiful mass of curls I’d ever seen. Your mamá was a radiant bride, but she was still the second prettiest one that day.”

Dolores smiled at the obvious loving way he spoke of Julieta. “What was your wedding like, tío?”

“Which one?”

“Huh?”

“Which of my wedding days are you asking about?”

“Wh—you’ve had more than one?”

“Well,” Agustín replied , whisking the chopped chocolate into the milk and cinnamon mixture. “The first was when I was eight and then the second was almost 20 years later. Same girl.”

Dolores’ eyes widened in delight. She knew her tío and tía had met as children, but had never known for sure how old they had been. She had always assumed they were in their early teens.

“What was the first one like?”

Her usually accident-prone tío began to ladle the chocolate concoction into a mug as he spoke. “That was a Tuesday after school. I had asked Juli if she’d marry me that morning when I passed her stand in the village square. I gave her a flower and she tucked it into her apron and said she would…I made her promise three times.” He smiled at the memory. “Your papá did the ceremony. Now careful, it’s hot.” He handed the mug to her and she began to blow to cool it off.

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

“Now this story sounds kinda familiar, have I heard this before?”

“Your mamá had to water the fields on his family farm that afternoon, so we held the ceremony there. We tied two sticks together to make a cross. I told your tía that I loved her and that I was going to marry her and love her forever and she said the same thing. Then your ten year old papá pronounced us married. I didn’t have a ring, but I did have a piece of thread on me from mamá’s sewing kit and I wrapped it too tightly around Juli’s finger and it started turning blue, so we had to cut it off. The string, not her finger, obviously. I saw her the next day, she had replaced it with a flower stem. I wish I’d thought of that instead. She wore it until it fell off three days later. I made it up to her much later by giving her a proper ring. And we had it sized correctly.”

Whether from the hormones or the story, Dolores sniffed a bit from the tears in her eyes. She slowly continued sipping the hot liquid and a divine taste filled her mouth. No one made hot chocolate quite like her tío did.

“How are you feeling now?” Agustín asked. He had shamelessly taken another piece of Julieta’s chocolate and was eating it as he cleaned.

“Better,” Dolores said, smiling. “And the story made me tear up a bit. It was so sweet.”

Her tío smiled again. “Im glad. All my memories of being with your tía are sweet. Even when they weren’t.”

“Tía was lucky to marry you. Actually, we’re all lucky that she did. The whole family.”

Momentarily startled at that comment, Agustín’s eyes widened at his niece who gave him a warm smile. He hadn’t been expecting it and it warmed his heart immensely.

“Gracias, pequeño buho.”

“De nada.”

As she closed her eyes and sipped her drink, Dolores’ warm smile gave way as a faint sound reached her ears. The rustling of paper wrapping. Around a yet another piece of her tía’s special chocolate. A stolen piece.

In Agustín’s pocket.

“Tío! Honestly!”

Amid Agustín’s protests, she only shook her head and insisted that whether it was her special hearing or something else, Julieta was going to find out one of these days and he’d be in trouble. She couldn’t cover for him forever, you know. Her cramps had faded to a manageable level and the warmth from the drink, the hot water bottle, and her loving dork of a tío had soothed her. A peaceful, pain free sleep would finally come for her that night.

Maybe tía Julieta wasn’t the only one with healing powers.

☕️

Like they just get up go to the bathroom, look see blood in the toilet and go, “HUN??? TF?? Oh.. shit yeah, I got to deal with this again.”

Like, not even made a big deal about it. Maybe Namaari can't sleep when they're out traveling because she's got bad cramps, or Raya's back hurts during a sparring session. It's a show with two female leads, it would be highly relevant and such a good way to just casually include something totally natural. I know Turning Red caused quite a stir, so I imagine this would too and probably won't happen. But it would be such a good thing for young kids of any gender (hell, even older kids) to see that it's normal and nothing to be ashamed of, or give shame for.

Speaking of Digimon protagonists being surprisingly knowledgable of periods, I like to think that Masaru also know about periods.