#but at least for like last 8 months my every day pain has been getting worse and worse. my body aches my joins ache.

[ameridan-ghilain]

Lol. Lmao even. I am having a great time, physically. (Dump below)

[sunnie-angel]

Part 8: The New Normal

part 7 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x fem!reader

summary: both you and jason struggle with defining your new normal in the wake of your changed friendship

tags: angst, mentions of offscreen violence

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k

a/n: with this chapter we officially cross 20k words (whoops). i dropped quite a few hints about future developments in this chapter, i wonder if you'll find them all.

Jason’s never felt so bitter about successfully achieving something. The taste of it curdles in his mouth, sour and heavy. He’d known that amputating his heart would hurt but this? This was worse. It was bloodless and toothless and the worst thing he’s ever done to himself. To you. You’re friends now. Friends! No lasting repercussions to having what he wanted. Shockingly, no lasting repercussions for fucking up his secret identity either. He’s gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? 

He’d known, in that half-abstract kind of way that Talia had taught him, that if he had been earnest enough and insistent enough on the idea of friendship he’d be able to end the conversation there. No questions about why he had kissed you a second time. No scathing comments about how desperate he had been to know what you tasted like. He wouldn’t have to explain himself, or all of his messy inconvenient feelings, to you. Friends. Easy as that. 

Or at least that’s what he tells himself, walking in to face you. He’d know your footsteps anywhere and the just sound of them sets his senses on edge. All of his focus narrows down to you, hyperawareness kicking in. Jason doesn’t take any notes in class, can barely hear the sound of the professor speaking over you fidgeting next to him. To think his biggest worry a few months back had been if he would pass his courses. He can’t shake this fog, but he’s terrified of letting on just how gone he already is. Leaves a respectful three inches of space between the two of you through lunch that he obsessively maintains through Will telling some story about actually getting hit by a car over the weekend that Jason could care less about. He doesn’t breathe fully until the two of you are walking out of your last joined class of the day, cold air burning with every breath. He can do this.

“Can I– may I walk you home?” he asks uncertainly.

“Oh so you finally ask permission, huh?” you tease, and it’s the first thing he’s heard properly all day. Maybe it comes out sharper edged than he’s used to you directing at him, but it’s so close to resembling the easy camaraderie of the early days that he will take it.

“I was actually listening to your lecture on privacy,” Jason somehow finds the strength to sass back. 

“You can take the bus with me and walk me to my building door but that’s it. I already talked to the super about changing the door code.” Jason knows. He watched the super change it yesterday. 

“Just to the building. Scouts honour,” he says, drawing an x over his heart. 

When it comes to normal, Jason Todd sucks at pretending to be it. Or maybe you’ve just learned to read him too well. A space – not just literal but physical – exists between you now. He doesn’t sit right anymore, shoulders tensing up when you sit down next to him an only relaxing when you make no move to lean into him. He walks a full foot away now, no more arms accidentally brushing. He still keeps you fed – let it never be said that a friend of Jason’s goes hungry – but your fingers never brush as he hands containers over. Messages dwindle, text threads drying up. You can bear all of that, you can. It’s almost like the distant but friendly relationship you have with Will or half of your fellow interns. No, it’s the part where almost a week later, Jason still won’t look you in the eye. 

It would be so easy to dismiss everything else as growing pains, the both of you testing and reassessing where the new lines have been drawn. This isn’t that. Jason has drawn a line and it’s one that feels like a cut every time you brush up against it. These days there’s a tension in your jaw that you didn’t carry  before. Magically it appears whenever Jason chooses a particularly interesting patch of paint on the wall behind you to stare at instead of meeting your gaze. You think you hide the way your hands clench in your lap pretty well. You laugh and joke, exclaiming over Lina’s one liners, asking Rei about his next swim meet, and gasping in all the right places over Will’s sprained wrist. Keeping up the appearance of normalcy is tiring in a way that it hadn’t been before.  So your smiles are a little more forced than they were before, so what? The two of you are still friends and no one else is any wiser. 

There’s a Rogue attack, close enough to campus that it goes into lock down for the first time this semester. One second you’re following Jason’s broad back cutting a swathe through the frightened crowd of students to the muster location and then suddenly he’s gone. It doesn’t matter how quickly you crank your head to the side, he’s just vanished. Again. You spend the whole two hours huddled up in the auditorium glued to your phone as you watch the Red Hood fight Black Mask over a shitty news helicopter live stream. You’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, have practically become numb to the sirens and the drills for the worst that the city has to offer, but not today. Today your heart is in your mouth as you watch Jason take a blow to the head and go reeling across your phone screen. Breathing shakily, you realize that if he were to die – now – you’d never get to tell him just how fully he’s made a home for himself in your life, in your chest.

Obligingly, Jason doesn’t die today. Instead he pops up in the auditorium just as the all clear to evacuate has been sounded, ruefully explaining the mark on his cheek to your friends as the result of a panicking freshman’s fist. He’s a good liar you notice, through the hazy adrenaline rush of he’s alive, he’s alive pounding through your skull. 

Later that night lying in bed, you stretch your hand up, observing the way the light from passing cars cuts across your palm. You should probably do something about the shutters that don’t close right onto the fire escape but there’s always a thousand other things clamouring for attention. Besides, on nights like this when your thoughts turn in on themselves and sleep is a distant memory, the glow of the world outside provides a kind of comfort to you. No matter how bad things seem, life rumbles ever onwards. So what if every time you struggle with the keys to the front door it’s because you get lost in the memory of the one bright moment when it seemed like you could finally keep Jason? He’s not here now. The sheets have been washed – twice – but sometimes in that hazy place between sleeping and waking you swear you can still smell him. You think about the last time Jason had smiled at you, real and true and so sweetly uncomplicated. Your hand balls up into a fist and you cradle it to your chest. Maybe you suck at pretending everything is normal too.  

You must, because two weeks later, Danika corners you at one of your Wednesday study sessions. The student union is busy, tables full of students finally starting to realize exams are fast approaching with all the unwavering care of a freight train. 

“Hey can I talk to you for a sec?” she asks, just as you’re getting up.

“D’you mind if we talk and walk? I’m dying for caffeine and my stamp card says the next cup is free at The Grind,” you reply distractedly, digging your wallet out of your bag. 

“Oh you know I’m always down for a little snack,” she says, but there’s a note to her intonation that you can’t parse. 

The line for the coffee shop is long, but moving fast. You don’t notice anything off until you look up from struggling to extricate your membership card from your wallet, soft card stock folding under you nails. Danika is tugging at her hair as she stands next to you, twirling the strands tight around her finger until the circulation cuts off, the way she only does when she’s nervous and building up to something. 

She takes a deep breath and asks, “Are you and Jason, like, okay?” ripping the bandaid off.  

“I– why would you ask me that?” you deflect, scrambling to figure out where, exactly, your performance had faltered. The line surges forward, carrying the two of you along with it.

“Just, the last week or so something’s been off between you two. You know how you’re so obviously his favourite and he forgets the meaning of ‘personal space’ but only around you and he’s always–”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you struggle to cut her off. “It can’t be that bad, he’s good friends with all of us.”

“I’m pretty sure that whenever you start speaking the rest of us turn invisible or something,” Danika says wryly. “But the last week or so the vibes have just been off. He’s even less talkative than usual and I have been this–” she pinches her fingers together, pink nails catching the light “–close to recommending you a better concealer. So did you guys fight or something? Because you can tell me, you know.” She looks at you with wide, earnest eyes. “Because it doesn’t matter what it’s about, I’m on your side. If you wanna drop him as a friend, we’ll all do it no questions asked.”

“No, we uh, we didn’t fight but hold that thought okay?” you reassure her, before hurrying through your order as quickly as you can. Danika’s already standing by the pickup counter, finger still twisting in her hair.

“Or like, if you need a body buried the two of us could definitely take him,” she offers.

“We didn’t fight, okay? I’m serious. And while I’m happy that you’d hide a body for me, it’s really, honestly, not necessary. Me and Jason are fine,” you reassure her. The high neck of your sweater feels too tight.

“Alright so we don’t go all Gone Girl on him but whatever happened hurt you and I don’t like it when my best friend is hurting. Whatever it is I’m not gonna tell anyone, not if you don’t want me to,” she says, suddenly turning earnest again. 

“Jesus, it was nothing okay? It’s just, do you remember that night we all went out after Thanksgiving?” you offer up.

“The night where we were all taking bets on if Jason would make a move before or after the club?” she chimes in. 

“You were what?!” you hiss, heart stuttering and palms suddenly damp. 

“I’m kidding! Kidding!” she says with a laugh. “Sorry, you were just getting so wound up, I wanted to bring the mood up a bit. We didn’t actually bet on it. We did talk about though, before you both got there.”

You bite your lips, weigh up how much truth you want to tell. The barista calls out your order and you’re thankful for the extra moment to gather yourself.

“I was drunk and I tried to kiss him, okay?” She gasps. “And then he shut that shit down. He made it really, really clear that we were only ever gonna be friends,” you finish, gulping down your tea to cover for your embarrassment and immediately burning your tongue. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough without having to debride the festering wound you still haven’t made peace with. 

“Wait you’re sure that’s what he said? Absolutely no chance of anything?” Danika seems stunned. “I could swear there’s no way whatever you two have going on is platonic.” 

“Kinda hard to misinterpret the whole ‘that was a bad idea let’s just stay friends speech’. I wasn’t drunk enough to forget that.” You study your drink with false interest. 

“Oh. Oh I’m sorry,” she says, the kind of soft that she almost never is. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t realising exactly what he’s missing out on.” Danika reaches out and rubs your shoulder. “We’ll find you someone else that’s way, way hotter and makes better life choices. Until then, he’s on thin fucking ice.”

“This is all my shit, yeah? Leave him be, we’ll figure it out and this’ll all blow over,” you warn her. There’s a certainty to your words that you definitely don’t feel. But Jason shouldn’t be punished for the crime of not returning your affection and so you’ll just have to learn how to fake normalcy better. “Plenty of more fish in the sea or whatever. I’ll get over him.”

“Fine, but I’m gonna trust you to tell me if you don’t,” she says, linking your arm through hers. The two of you head back to the group, weaving your way through outstretched legs and scattered bags littering the space between tables. There’s a kind of comfort in having your charade seen through by someone that cares enough to ask. It won’t do in the long run, but this stutter step with Jason won’t last forever. 

“Hey you’re still living in the Alley right?” Danika asks offhandedly, sliding back into the booth.

“Haven’t moved since first year, Dani.”

“Just be careful, then, okay? I saw on the news that there’s been more muggings in that area.” 

You almost choke on your tea. “Yeah okay, I’ll avoid any muggers,” you croak. Jason’s eyes burn a hole into the side of your head.

part 9

[furiousgoldfish]

On effortless recovery (personal)

I've been slowly dealing with cptsd and osdd for the last 8 years, and while I've had to actively work on some stuff, other have just happened without my interference, or at least, without me knowing I did anything about it. I have not been to therapy; or rather, there's been several attempts that were not working, and I had to end them. For instance, I've had therapy with someone who showed next to no interest in my issues and kept minimizing and ignoring whatever I've been saying, and this was the only person who didn't try to institutionalize me.

I've had to actively work on osdd, and it's something I'm learning about, and understand more as I go, but I also get that osdd is making everything else much easier on me. For instance, lots of my memories and thoughts are being blocked from me, and contained in alters who are making sure that I'm not affected by it, that is a huge help. Lots of thoughts that would upset me if I thought about them, are completely out of my reach, and if I do try to think about them, my mind goes blank and I forgot what I was thinking about. That's a great help for issues like anxiety and spiraling; I used to drown in my own fears and worries; now I just can't remember any of it. It is slightly depressing that my own peace of mind requires that big amount of amnesia, but you know, having some peace is so nice I could never be anything less than grateful for it. Being able to maintain some semblance of peace feels like resiliency, it means I have a place of quiet where I can go back to, even when distressing things happen.

I'm having my chronic pain and chronic exhaustion ease away from me very slowly. I still get exhausted easily, and am tired way more often than a regular person, but I now rarely get days when I can't get out of bed, or have to sacrifice a whole week due to a flashback or a nightmare. I no longer get anxious about planning to do something a day or two ahead because I can count on having at least a basic amount of energy. I don't think I've done anything to create this, it was just happening over the years, on its own. It's also happening so slowly that I don't even feel the progress, I have to remember to look 3 or 5 years back and remember just how much time I've been spending in bed then, to realize that it's less now, that I can do multiple activities a day now. I know I'm extremely lucky to be recovering from this, because there are people who have a chronic condition that doesn't allow for recovery, and I am very grateful for every day I can move around.

Another thing that is much better is sleeping! I used to wake up feeling like I'm dying, overheated, stressed, anxious, sometimes even paralyzed in fear, and if not fear, then grief would hold me down and I would be too sad to move. Now I'm finding myself waking up thinking 'Oh I'm so well rested! I have the energy to tackle some chores' like I'm in an actual good mood. And it's like ??? what is going on, since when is this me. I've been dreaming of having mornings like this, and now I have them, and it just happened over time (8 years) I still only think about doing chores when I have energy, because I know it's the only time of day I'll have any energy, so if I wake up restful I will rush to do dishes, laundry, cleaning, cooking, and whatever else, because I know the energy will go away later and I will become a sad slob. But it's much better than waking up and having to take a few hours (or days) just to recover from sleeping. My sleeping schedule has been 8 hours all along, I somehow can't sleep over the 8 hour mark, and can't function if I sleep less than 7.

I will still sometimes have flashbacks and meltdowns if anything bad happens to me, but the recovery time from them has gone way down. It used to be weeks, months even, to recover from a single bad event. Now it's more like hours and days. It's still not very similar to what I think a regular person would have to deal with, but I love the progress very much! One thing that slips my mind is that I regularly forget how much worse things used to be. If I bounce back from something, I forget that in the past, this would ruin me for weeks, and I forget that this is progress and to take a minute to acknowledge that. I just take what I can and go. But it's good to look at it and see that life is a little easier.

Some anxiety has also withered away from me, because so much of my anxiety was due to inexperience. New problems that would appear in my life seemed unsolvable and catastrophic, because I never faced those problems before, didn't know how to solve it, didn't dare to ask for help, didn't have skills or knowledge to tackle any of them myself, and all of it felt like it would lead to my doom. After already having solved some of those problems multiple times, I'm at peace just because I know what to do now. I haven't done much asking for help to be honest, because I hate it, but in struggling to solve the problems myself (sometimes taking months and years to do so), I've gathered knowledge, skills and experience, and I now have a general idea of what to do in situations that reoccur, and also know what to expect, how long something will take, what type of action will resolve it. Just living and tackling things by myself, and succeeding, eases a lot of anxiety. There is a solution to everything, with sufficient knowledge, experience and skills.

A lot of stuff that's previously been bothering me to the level where I couldn't deal with it, can now be dealt with merely distracting myself from it. Which I think is very funny, because I used to consider all my time playing games or looking at funny videos 'procrastination', because I wasn't being productive right, I was just 'procrastinating' and delaying dealing with life. Now I value these activities specifically because they can save me from feeling miserable and sad. There's a warmth to looking at people being goofy, funny, interesting, entertaining, and taking joy in it, and reminding myself there's still a lot of good things in the world, there are good people, there is warmth, there is love, and I feel better after seeing it, regardless of how awful I felt before. Having my own thoughts redirected to something hopeful is making my days better, more stable. I think I'm just stopping myself from spiraling into hopelessness, by looking directly at hope and staying fixated on it for long enough. And it's something I didn't previously value as a real activity, because I didn't believe that making myself feel better while producing nothing, was a worthwhile pursuit.

Being safe from abuse for a long time managed to erode the feelings of guilt and shame I had in my own interests, thoughts and activities, and I've became unafraid of any failures. It is now very clear to me that failing is the only way towards learning and it's incredibly valuable. I'm shameless at starting new hobbies and activities and it does not bother me whatsoever when I do badly. Even failing at big stuff in my life, things that created actual damage to me, supplied me with knowledge I don't think I would otherwise gain, and I treasure it. I don't feel ashamed or like I've done anything wrong. I've been able to engage with my own curiosity about things and I'm now able to ask questions about anything, without feeling bad for 'not knowing already'.

I've also accepted that I'm bad at some stuff, and it doesn't mean anything much about me, we're all bad at something. Sometimes I'm bad at stuff, but enjoy doing them, so I still do them, fun gives it good value! And if I'm both bad at something and don't enjoy it, then I completely drop it, and feel okay knowing this just isn't for me. I remember when I used to believe I'm bad at everything, just because I was getting such horrid feedback on it, now it's almost funny. I like stuff I create even when I do them badly, because I remember how much fun I had doing it. If I want to do them better, I know I just need to keep practicing and it will happen. Nothing a human creates is shameful, especially if it's not causing any harm to anyone. We're made to create and it makes us happy.

I don't think I've done anything specific to create these changes, maybe some critical analysis of the past, and some willingness to consider my own happiness important and worthwhile. I think I spent so much time grieving that I've actually processed the most of it, so I'm no longer as overwhelmed by it as I was before. It's not like I'm no longer sad, I will start sobbing frequently and whenever I'm tired, I am automatically miserable. But it is no longer constant, suffocating feeling that follows me for every second of existence.

I haven't done anything to fix the sleeping or to ease the chronic pain, that was just time and being safe from abuse for a longer period. I wanted to write this specifically because I've been waking up feeling okay the last few days and that was a shock to experience, what a bliss to wake up and think 'I'm well rested'. Incredible life experience.

[lostdrarryfics]

lostdrarryfics monthly roundup! February 2024

Below you will find the requests we could not locate in the month of February. Please let us know if you recognize any!

You can also browse our lengthy lost fic masterlist, where we have compiled every request we have been unable to find over the past few years. We're always hoping someone will recognize a fic so we can let the asker know what it was!

1. looking for a fic that came out maybe between 2003-2009 on fanfiction.net. In it, Sirius and Remus are alive and dating, and they are Harry’s gay godfathers. They might give Harry a makeover. Harry and Draco fall in love, and I think that they’re still at school. Lucius and Voldemort are dating at Malfoy Manor and one of them has a thing for purses. Lucius swishes his hair a lot.

2. fic on ao3. It was a pre war drarry. Draco-centric where he befriended harry. I think it was time travel fix it, but im not very sure. Lucius and draco are arguing about Draco’s behavior and lucius smacks draco in the face. his ring cuts dracos cheek and he bleeds. Both him, narcissa, and draco are shocked over this since its not like lucius to hit draco. Narcissa yells at lucius and then tries to talk with draco in his room. Im pretty sure draco ran off to 12 grimmauld place after that and sirius and harry where there when he arrived. I think he arrives at hogwarts train with a bandage in his face. pretty sure draco was the one to get sirius out of Azkaban early

Found! 3. I read this fic a pretty long time ago, at least 5 years and I've been looking everywhere for it but can't find it. I think it was on ao3, eighth year, where Harry gets turned into a kid (around 7years maybe? Definitely under 10) and McGonagle makes Draco take care of him. Harry has big scars on his back from the Dursleys and they cause him to have seizures (? Or something like spasms maybe that are painful) fic is not The Dragon and The Golden Baby by jolly_love

Found! 4. looking for a fic I read in the past couple months on Ao3 where Harry has a menial job at Gringotts as a form of repayment. He knows his goblin co-workers pretty well but he’s not allowed to do any important work. He and Draco are tasked with opening a box that hold’s a witch’s will and the key turns out be a pendant his goblin boss is wearing and it’s revealed that he and the witch had a relationship. It was not part of a larger series and it was probably under 15k words. fic is not Reparations by Lomonaaeren

5. it’s years post war and Harry has been an auror abroad. I think maybe France? But he comes back for a case and is surprised to be working with Draco. Then he learns Draco is friends with all his friends, especially Luna and Neville. There’s a scene where Luna asks him to model for her cuz her model dropped out last min and Harry loses his mind over the photo the next day.

6. slowburn drarry fic! unfortunately all I remember is that Draco had been sorted into a house other than Slytherin, and Hermione often helped him with his anxiety being around crowds

7. Draco asked harry what would happen if the aurors come to take him to Azkaban for the use of his wand, and Harry answers that he would kill them all and them do it with Draco right there, I know that harry was morally grey but not dark harry

Found! 8. It’s an eventual Tom/Draco/Harry story. Good dark side. Harry ends up kidnapped/captive and they realise he is abused and start taking care of him. He is kept in a hotel in France I think. Dumbledore gets him back and uses a ritual to turn him into a puppet. Ginny and hermione support this. Ron eventually regrets and helps Draco let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. They reverse the ritual on Harry. Dark side wins.

Found! 9. I don’t know which year, but it’s one of the fanfictions where Harry is the Heir to like 8 different families, and Narcissa teaches him etiquette. The thing that is stuck in my head is that he uses a special knot for his tie, which represents all the families. I think he was actually introduced to the Wizengamot and voting on stuff, but I might mix that up with other similar fanfictions. fic is not Birth of the Serpent King by Keira Marcos

10. post-war fic I read on Ao3 probably in 2021 or 2022. All I remember is that Harry accidentally travels through time and wants to again (for Draco obvs) but Hermione says even his small trip caused big changes and now there's this thing called Brexit.

[a-mel0n]

This stupid "Your Name" Bucktommy AU won't leave my brain, and while I don't have enough faith in my writing skills to actually write the damn thing (and it would be my first fanfic... ever?? and that's a project that seems a bit too big for me lmao), I DID write down what I'm picturing some of the "rules" Buck and Tommy have for each other while in the other's body. Mostly just for fun. (Because Tommy would be switching in 2006, the iPhone does not exist yet, so all of his notes are written in an actual physical journal. All of Buck's notes would be on the Notes app of his phone)

TOMMY: 1) Evan, stop running into burning buildings when you don’t have to while in my body. If I wake up in a hospital bed for the fifth time this month, I might actually lose it.

its part of the job to save as many ppl as possible. also u don’t even feel the pain when i get injured in ur body.

You’re right, I don’t. Unfortunately, the pain from having a wooden beam fall on you doesn't just magically go away when we swap. Just... be more careful? Please?

fine. i’ll try and keep ur hospital visits to a minimum.

2) Can you stop flirting with people on calls? Or at the very least give them your number and not mine? In the last week alone my contact list has nearly doubled because you keep giving people my number. 

dude its not my fault you’re more popular while i’m you. just think of it as me being ur wingman! how u dont have a girlfriend is beyond me btw. hot chicks love firefighters and ur a good looking dude

Jesus Christ, Evan. For the last time, I’m single by choice.

3) Don’t shower while in my body

already dont

4) Don’t go to the bathroom while in my body 

done

5) In fact, unless you’re at work, don’t change any of my clothes while in my body. 

fair

6) Do you really need to spend so much of my paychecks on cooking supplies? I have enough pots and pans already. 

whats the point of a pantry if its half empty. be thankful ur getting actual food now via my leftovers instead of the utter tragedy that was the state of ur fridge when we first started swapping places.

7) Don’t make a scene while at work. 

your boss sucks ass and his stupid orders are going to get people killed. im not gonna listen to him if hes making bad calls while lives are on the line

Evan.

8) Don’t pick up the phone when my dad calls.

got it

BUCK: 1) quit going to eddie’s basketball pickup games. he keeps inviting me while i’m in my own body and its getting harder and harder to come up with excuses as to why i can’t go. it's kinda awkward.

I thought you’d be more grateful, Evan. You’re the coolest guy on the court when I’m you. 

2) are you making movie references when ur me? bc chim keeps asking when i got so “cultured” and the other day maddie asked when i watched the princess bride. 

You haven’t seen the Princess Bride? I’m leaving you a surprise for tomorrow. Check your couch when you wake up. 

did you spend my OWN money on a dvd??? i don’t even own a dvd player. i own every streaming service imaginable.

3) keep the finger guns to a minimum?? idk why you do them so much but both hen and chim have said smth abt it

4) if u get a call from someone called connor or kameron on my phone just let it go to voicemail its personal stuff and i'll deal with it

Evan, you could have told me you agreed to be a sperm donor yourself. Finding out because Connor and Kameron showed up at the fire house was more of a shock than finding out over these memos would have been. 

they did what?????

5) don’t talk to my parents

Done.

6) No rule about undressing? 

dude idc. i’m not gonna stop you from taking a piss in my body if u need to. as long as you like. don’t have sex with someone while you’re me? oh wait hang on i DO have a rule about undressing

7) DON’T HAVE ANY RANDOM HOOK UPS IN MY BODY. 

Wasn’t planning on it, but good to know. 

[gothmessi]

EVIDENCE

you can see they both have one side of their face who has been affected, my grandpa had a stroke and only has vision in one eye, the one he can open the most, he's paralyzed in one side of the body and can't walk or do his necesites without help, that's why I'm there, I clean after him, help him take some steps, wash his hands and face, my uncle comes home sometimes to bathe him. and my grandma has eyesight problems as well, she has one side of her face that has been affected for bad meds that she took when she couldn't afford new ones, I help her walk and cook, she has to feed 3 young girls who live with them because their father left them (I won't post their faces since they are underage), so I wash their clothes and try to keep them in good shape but we can't afford some stuff, the government gifts us 8 liters of milk every month and since they are both older than 65 the government also gives them money than can barely cover electricity and running water, sometimes they get free meds, sometimes they don't, ofc we can't afford physiotherapy for any of them but they need it very badly.

yes it's true I used the donation money to that wheelchair you see folded there, it was 2,600 mxn bc we can't afford a new one, on the table you can see lotions that they need, they were also bought with the donation money. and that's where my grandma of 81 years sleeps, my grandpa sleeps in the bed because he needs more space to move and that chair you see is where I sleep there when I take care of them, you can even see my blankets, I'm always waiting for something to happen, I wake up every hour to see if they need to go to the bathroom or take water.

that´s the bathroom, as you can see we only have 3 toilet paper, some shampoo and toothpaste, that's all they have until next month. I don't want to post their kitchen cause they have so many pots but so little food, all they have is rice, beans, some cereal and tortillas.

here is my bank account, I have 9 mxn to my name and I have the movements when I retired the 2,600 mxn to buy the wheelchair, they didn't gave us a receipt because we bought it from the son of an old woman who passed away in the neighborhood. it also shows the last movement, 5 dollars I received from a donation on paypal, I have received another 40 dollars but they won't show on my account at least for another 4-5 days.

and yes I used the donation money for college, here are the receipts, I covered some information for my own safety, you can see how the amounts are the same because that was paid, I got the payment receipt on august 14th, that covers august and september. the rest of the donation money was used to buy food and bus tickets in those two months, I really appreciate everyone who donated cause you all kept me alive for more than 2 months.

and this is why I keep asking for help, because I don't want my grandpa to be sad, hungry or in pain in his last days, that´s why I can't get a job and G-d knows I want one and need one, I don't want them to die alone, I´m a very good worker, I cleaned houses, sold clothes on the street, cleaned the poop of cows, cleaned stables, washed the clothes of other people, worked in construction, I'll do anything, clean anything, just can't right now and I have to pay my college tuition. they keep sending me emails about giving me a last chance at paying $1840 for january and also the same amount for february, etc. so yeah I think this is about it, ofc I don't want people to think I'm a scam cause I really need the help and I feel ashamed to ask for help but I feel like I won't make it out alone. thank you for reading, might delete some pics cause I also feel weird about posting my grandparents, their house and my uni things but I understand if some people need to see that to believe me and donate.

[elocinnicole]

Much Needed Break

Much Needed Break

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader

Rating: 18+ SMUT (oral f receiving, unprotected sex, foreplay)

Requested: No

Summary: Starting to feel burnt out and Reader gets a surprise from Daveed.

Note: I’ve been writing like crazy y’all. These past few fics have been WIP’s that have been collecting dust on my laptop. I took a sick day earlier this week and have been finishing up these WIPs I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3K

Whoever said being a Mom is a beautiful experience, fucking lied. Never in your life have you wanted to be more alone than this moment right now. Daniel had a meltdown in the middle of the store because they were sold out his favorite cereal and refused to pick a different one. Ari has been going through diapers like tic-tacs. The last pregnancy you couldn’t produce enough milk, now it seems like you had to pump every hour or you’ll start leaking through your clothes. You were still healing from your C-Section with Ari which made dealing with everything that much more painful. The plan was to have a home birth but Ari was breech which made you have the C-Section and pushed back you filming the newest season of Bridgerton.

“Maybe you need a break.” Jasmine suggested

“I mean Daveed’s movie premiere is tomorrow. We got a hotel for the night.”

“No, that is not a break. You need a getaway with your husband.”

“I don’t know, I don’t have the time and I feel like even if we do go on a trip, I’m gonna be too tired to do anything.” You’re finding it harder and harder to get up each morning, since Daveed is in the middle of filming his days were early and long. Meaning he wasn’t there to help you in the morning with the kids. You really didn’t want to hire anybody but maybe you need to, at least until you’ve finished filming.

“My Fenty came in today so I thought I could put it on and see what happens.”

“See what happens? Girl I ain’t know it was this bad. You need to get that back broke like a glow stick.”

“When do we have the time Jazz? Between the Bluey marathon or Gracie’s Corner?”

“That’s a start but I still think the two of you need a break. Mainly you.”

“We’re getting a hotel tomorrow.” You reasoned

“Girl, a break from the kids, LA, your house.”

“Maybe you’re right, I’ll talk to Daveed about it.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright girl, bye.”

You heard a car door shut, and eagerly ran downstairs to get ready. You’ve been missing, Daveed…a lot. Not only were you filming a show, but you’re also only four months postpartum, adjusting to being parents for two under the age of five, and Daveed filming his movie over seas, the time to be intimate was almost nonexistent. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself and Daveed a glass of wine before heading back upstairs to wait for him. The kids were asleep, candles were lit, you had a bath waiting for the two of you upstairs. You had everything planned.

You waited and waited for Daveed to come upstairs, but it’s already been ten minutes. You tried to stay awake but the exhaustion from your busy day took over and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, there was a blanket placed over you and the wine glasses from last night were gone. You got out of bed you glanced at the clock, and it was only 8:00 AM. You checked on Daniel and Ari, and they were already out of bed. Daveed must’ve taken them downstairs.

You walked into the kitchen, and you should’ve been grateful to see your husband making breakfast but the only thing you could think about is the mess he’s making while doing it.

“Morning! I didn’t want to walk you, Ari was fussy, so I gave her a bath. By then, Daniel was already up so I figured we’d get breakfast started.”

“We made you breakfast, Mommy.” Daniel smiled; face covered in syrup. Daveed smiled you tried to return it, but you walked over to the highchairs where your children were nestled safely, kissing their foreheads. You made yourself a cup of coffee and went to sit in the sunroom alone.

You were torn at your feelings; you’ve been waiting for the day when Daveed woke up with you and had breakfast as a family. The one thing you wanted to do right now had some peace and quiet to yourself. You’ve been in Mommy mode for the last three years and you were exhausted.  Not that Daveed wasn’t present, but you were the one who got the phone calls from daycare, took Daniel to the dentist and doctor. Ari was breastfed and since Daveed started filming soon after she was born, she was a “Mommy’s Girl”. Which left you very little time to be alone as Ari would refuse to go to anyone even sometimes Daveed.

“I made you a plate.” You turned to see Daveed standing in the doorway with a breakfast tray for you. You felt a pang of guilt, Daveed probably wanted to spend time with you but then you remembered that Daveed didn’t come to bed last night.

“Thanks.”    

“Babe—”

“What did you do last night when you came home?”

“I-I was uh…playing video games?”

“Why are you saying it like it’s a question, were you or weren’t you?”

“I was, it was a long day and I needed to unwind.”

“Okay, thanks for the breakfast.” You said, unsatisfied with his answer.

“Babe, I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. By the time I came up you were already sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t know you had planned something—”

“It’s okay,” No it wasn’t. “Thanks for breakfast.” You grabbed the plate from Daveed.

“Babe,”

“Thanks for the breakfast.”

Daveed can admit it, his schedule has been busy for the past few weeks, to be honest, months. It’s taken time away from not only you but the kids. Not that you weren’t happy for him, his movie is expected to generate a lot of Oscar buzz and he has to do press. Daveed tried to make up for it by calling and facetiming you and the kids often, but that still doesn’t make you miss him any less or him feel less guilty. 

Today he was home, the official premier of his movie is tonight. The plan would be you and Daveed we get a hotel in the city with the kids. While you two were out, Nicolette and Jasmine were going to watch the kids. Then, back to the hotel for the night and check out the following morning. This would be the first night in a long time that you and Daveed were going out, just the two of you. You wished it wasn’t a LA movie premier but, nonetheless, it would be your fist night without the kids, sorta. You’ve never gotten dressed for an event with both Daniel and Ari though, you’ve done it plenty of times with Daniel but now you have him and Ari.

The easy going morning was short-lived as you stated getting ready to leave for the hotel. Daveed had gone to get something he needed from the store. You urged him to have it delivered but he just had to go. Leaving you with the kids. Alone. Again. You put both of them down for a nap so you could pack in peace. You were currently in Daniel’s room getting his bag together. A series of rapid knocks and the doorbell ringing pulled you out of your thoughts. You instantly groaned,

“Who the hell is that?” You mumbled to yourself. You dragged your feet down the hall and down the steps. You opened the door and weren’t ready to see your friends standing on the other side.

“What the hell?”

“Are you gonna invite us in or?” Nicolette asked.

“Uh, yeah come in. What are you guys doing we’re supposed to meet you at the hotel.”

“We know, Daveed called us last night.” Jasmine explained.

“Last night?”

“Yes, so go upstairs. Daveed’s gonna be here in like five minutes.” Jasmine urged.

“I’m not packed! I was getting the kids stuff together.”

“Daveed packed your bags for you. Put something on he’ll be here soon!”

You went upstairs to your bedroom and sure enough, Daveed had your bags packed you frowned at the luggage he used. Maybe he packed both of your things together. You threw on your favorite lounge set and some sneakers. You went back downstairs, luggage in tow to see Jasmine and Emmy playing with Daniel and Ari.

Not wanting to draw attention you waved silently left to meet Daveed outside. You smiled upon seeing your husband waiting outside the car for you. Forgetting about your luggage, you run up to Daveed and jumped into his arms.

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“Being a bitch this morning.”

“I’m to blame for that, I know I haven’t been around—”

“It’s not your fault,”

“It kinda is, so we’re flying to France for the premier there.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, also I want to show off the woman that’s been holding me down for the last six years.”

“What about the premiere tonight?”

“We’re not going, we’re going to the airport tonight. But we only have five hours so I’m gonna send you off to your nails and hair done and then we’re going to the airport.”

“Daveed—” he cut you off with a kiss

“I’ll see you later. I’ll finish up here.”

Right after your pamper session, you and Daveed were on a first-class plane ride to France.

You still don’t know how Daveed managed to get this all set up in a little bit of time he had. Daveed prepared a full afternoon for you as soon as you landed, a private couple massage in the hotel room he booked, lunch brought to the room and a facial. The premier wasn’t until the next day, but Daveed wanted to pamper you to the fullest. He was out doing some last-minute things so you took this time to call Jasmine and Nicolette.

“Girl I wish I had a husband like yours.” Jasmie joked

“I know I might have to let him get some ass tonight. He’s been asking since we got together.”

“Girl you gonna have to do a split on it.” Nicolette teased

“Make a whole movie.”

“What’s your new Porn Star name girl?”

“Shut up, how are my babies?”

“Ari’s been up since 7:30, Daniel’s still sleep. We’re about to wake him up and give them breakfast.”

“Is Ari okay?”

“She was fussy last night but we got her to lie down. Daniel’s been fine, girl he hasn’t even asked about you guys.”

“That sounds about right, well I was just calling to check on you guys. Thank y’all so much.”

“Of course! We got you girl, go get dicked down tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, bye!” As soon as you ended the call Daveed entered the room. A fresh bouquet in hand

“Are those for me? Babe, this is entirely too much.”

“I don’t think it’s enough.” Daveed pulled you into a kiss

“Daveed, really this is just…thank you babe.”

“You deserve it.”

“What’s the plan for tonight?”

“Dinner at Substance and then you’ll see after.”

You were amazed at the attention to detail that your husband put into making you feel loved and appreciated in this little bit of time. Some how the two of you had a private dinner a in room away from everyone else. You haven’t spent this much time as a couple since before you had Daniel. Not that you weren’t grateful for the little family that you’ve made but you miss just spending time as husband and wife, but with your growing popularity and life it’s been difficult.

“Promise me, that we won’t lose this when we go back home.” You said

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t want the only time we have time together…just the two of us is when you plan these elaborate getaways. I want alone time with you back in LA too.”

“I know I’m partially to blame for that…we’ll do better. I’ll do better to make sure we don’t forget about us.”

“It’s not just you, it’s me too. I love being a mom, but I don’t want to forget how to be the person you fell in love with.”

“Me either. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daveed.” The two met in a loving deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around Daveed’s neck, he pressed his hand against the small of your back pulling you closer, as if that were possible. You pulled away first, breathing heavily.

“Make love to me, Daveed.”

Daveed’s lips never left your skin from time you left the restaurant to now laying against the bed while Daveed took his time undressing you. In the car leaving the restaurant, Daveed teased your clit over you lacy thong while sucking on your neck. You had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud in the car. It didn’t help in the elevator that Daveed was kneading your ass while waiting to arrive to your floor. His hands and moth were attached to you in some way, driving you crazy. He always stop just short of making you cum, edging you.

“Daveed,” you moaned impatiently

“Wait…” Daveed tenderly took the straps off your shoulders and shimmed the dress down your body happy to only see you wearing a black thong.

“Damn baby just a thong?”

“All for you.” Daveed attacked your neck before making his way to your breasts, taking one nipple in his mouth gently biting and sucking in it while he tugs on the other. You cried out in ecstasy, arching your back off the bed. Daveed switched to the other breast offering the same treatment. Your lift your hips, hoping to feel something.

Daveed makes his way down your body, avoiding where you want his mouth the most, instead he kisses your inner thighs.

“I love you so fucking much. You deserve the whole world and if I could give it to you I would. So perfect, beautiful, my wife.” You moaned at the praises mind too foggy to say anything. Daveed opens your legs and moans at the sigh before him, your thong soaking wet from the foreplay. He mouths at your clothed pussy, and you let out the most pornographic moan that went straight to Daveed’s dick.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Daveed…please. I want you.” You breathed.

“You have me, baby.”

“Please…please.”

“Use your words, what do you want?”

“I want…I want your mouth on my pussy.”

“See, how hard was that?” Daveed moves your panties to the side and sucks on your clit. Your hands shoot to his hair, pulling on it, causing him to groan.

“Oh, fuck Daveed.” He opens your folds and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal. Daveed could feel your walks squeezing around his tongue, he pulled his tongue away and plunged three fingers in you finding that spot and went back to sucking your clit.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You squealed as your juices flowed into Daveed’s awaiting mouth. You pulled him in for a passionate kiss, teeth clashing against each other. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Desperate for something, you began grinding your hips up against his to feel anything. You started tugging on his clothes, tired of being teased.

“Too many clothes.” Daveed smirked, he loved when you were fucked out and needy. He quickly took off his clothes and threw them to the floor. He hooked his hands under your legs and pulled you toward him. He grabbed his dick and rubbed his tip on your folds, you were so wet he could’ve just slipped his dick in but he anted to tease you some more.

“Make love to me. No more teasing.”

“Since you asked me so nicely.” Daveed slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch, it’s been a while since you and Daveed were intimate, but you welcomed the slight pain. Daveed had to compose himself before moving, your pussy hugging his dick so nicely that he almost came at that moment. He placed your legs over his shoulders for a deeper angle making you both groan. When he started thrusting it didn’t take long for. The squelching of his dick going in and out of you was music to your ears. Some days, it was rough and hard, sometimes you only have time for a quickie, but now Daveed wanted to take his time with you and live in this moment forever. There was no rush, no Zoom interview, no five-minute commercial break, just the two of you in this moment.

“Daveed, Daveed,” You clawed at his back as you reached your peak, quicker than you wanted to. Daveed kept the same pace not wanting this to end, holding his own release at bay. You closed your eyes overtaken by the immense pleasure your husband was giving.

“Look at me,” Daveed ordered you opened your eyes and was met with Daveed’s intense stare. “keep looking at me, okay.” You nodded your head gasping as he kept fucking you into your next orgasm.

“Daveed, it’s too much.” Daveed’s slow deep stroke were killing you. You chanted his name over and over like a mantra.

“One more, just give me one more baby. I know you can do it.” Daveed’s thrust were getting sloppy as he was reaching his peak. One more thrust and you came together, your walls squeezing him as he came inside you. You both breathed heavily as you were coming down from your high. After a few moments, Daveed pulled out of you and pulled you close to him.

“Hey,” He breathed, you smiled softly.

“Hey. That was amazing.” You could see the compliment go to your husband’s head and rolled your eyes. You drew lazy circle on his chest.

“Thank you everything.”

“I should be thanking you and I’m sorry for not making you feel appreciated. I love you and I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone else but you.”

“I love you too Daveed.” You shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep in the arms of your husband.

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k @iknowthekoolaidflavor @ramp-it-up @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @blackpinup22 @chrisevanswife0405 @mellie-teh-goblin-queen @azxulaa @luckyfriess @thatdamnlyssa @endless-romantic-stories @daveeds-wife @emilia-i @gothic-slaherfan-weeb @slashersluxsworld @chattykathysquietsister @aliyahsomerhalder @crystalannetem @tuhnayshuh

[cmyk-anaglyph-honeycomb]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 8 blind blogging.

spoilers and whatnot. Doing one of these at midnight again even though most of my morning is free

The training to fight the angels being showned through montage…i don’t know how to describe it. It would have been a good change to show how trust and depenence on each other for the hotel gang would have developed. As well as how they get along with the cannibals while also having a few of them convert to the hotel’s ideal.

Whatever but at least vox is on screen.

24hrs and they still don’t know if they’re prepared? Ugh. Cherri’s here, okay. She fells more like a cameo than a character but alright. The emotional speech fells unearned.

What good is she seeing them? The hotel gang just started to get along. The cannbals have had not change only battle training. In ep 6 it was implyed that angel was getting better, but he was just tired from working with Val for 16hrs. If cherri would have showed up on any other day and the interaction with Val wouldn’t have happened, he would have gone along with her.

The cherri / pen ship is painful to watch please stop

Song #1 already. Short, kinda boring, but romance i guess. Idk, not my genre.

Heaven time. Really, Lute is the one that’s too much. Not adam, mr move the extermination date to every 6 months and miss pronouncing Vaggie’s name? Lute better not be Vaggie’s ex i swear.

Why does heaven have money!?!?

All the exorcists are women? With adam being what he is, that’s gross.

Wait they can shield themselves form the angels? Why bother recruiting fighters then? If alastor can shield the hotel and use the spears to kill the angels then the entire prev episode was pointless.

Neither adam or Lute knew that angel weopons can hurt angels, despite being the ones to sever Vaggie’s wings. Were the writers even trying. That’s something that should be caught in the first draft let alone the second and overall production wft.

My confidence in my own writing has skyrocketed.

Why are cherri’s bombs effecting the angels? How have they been altered to hurt them. This is not explained or shown by the bombs look any different than the previous ones.

How are Husker’s card hurting the angel’s? Have they been altered? This is the first time we’ve seen them so who knows.

Angels are dying. In the last episode charlie was shown to be bother by this, but all of a sudden she’s fine with it.

Liked the alastor v adam fight, no notes

Why did charlie even show up to the fight? She isn’t doing anything but shielding.

I’m ignoring the cherri/pen kiss cuz that was unearned, but why wouldn’t they give pen the war blimp beforehand? And really? The blimp and pen are gone just like that?

Razzle and dazzle are dragons, cool. Charlie cold have pulled this power out at any time and just didn’t. Why? They are at war. They should have started with that.

And one of them is dead now!?! What was the point of them at all? The second one just disappears. Also, charlie can fight, how? She knows nothing of hell, had rose colored glasses so opaque that she’s blind, but you’re telling me she can fight a guy how goes around killing hundreds once a year. Where did she learn? I doubt lucifer taught her considering their relationship is nearly nonexistent.

Anyway, the fight scenes are pretty good, but there is literally no reason Vaggie should’ve let Lute live. The other angels were less of an threat and they died so why where.

Why did lucifer show up now? They had a month of preparation, why is he here now.

That shitty joke absolute kills the tension and momentum of the scene.

Lucifer v adam fight scene has the same seriousness the one in the first mlp movie. I mean that, watching it and see for yourself. Also, why are they an even match? adam is just a guy, the first one but still just a guy, he should be getting stomped by lucifer. Is he just that weak or is adam that strong, if so why?

Why didn’t adam used the death laser at the start?

WHy did lucifer not transform to start!?!

Why are they showing mercy to these genocidal maniacs? The fuck is that going to do but give them another shot down the road. Heaven isn’t watching, they have nothing to prove. Next time adam could just start with the lazer thing and carve up half of hell.

Adam’s dead, cool. But like, lucifer beating the shit out of him isn’t okay, but niffty stabbing him a thousand times is fine. And again, there are angel dead everywhere, who cares if two more are added to the list.

Okay, so i didn’t do one of these on ep 1 and 2, but killjoy’s voice is bad. It’s just brandon talking. There’s not inflection or anything.

Anyway, fight over I guess.

Why do they have a pic of adam?

Cute pet moments, but we’ve gotten little to no interactions with them. Sad song for pen

Song #2

No, the bloodshed could’ve been avoided if you 1) didn’t sign a paper you didn’t read. 2) went to heaven with a real plan instead of index cards with definitions. 3) Vaggie helped make a plan and 4) use the hell princess powers and dragons at the start of the fight instead of playing with that fucking shield that vanished anyway.

She did not change the town, she started a fight. Her hotel for redemption plan as not taken a single step forward.

Her story is just beginning? It’s the end of the season with only one more to come. Why are they talking up rebuilding the hotel, she has a bunch of money, just pay people to do it. Alastor magic-ed up most of it in the pilot, why can’t he do that again.

As much as I live the Vees, why are they here? Nothing concerning them has happened. They happy because the other overlords are thrown off by what happen, but did anything happen outside of the hotel? If it did, we weren't shown it.

Velvette didn't speak once, damn

Alastor’s missing again? Nevermind, there he is. Thanks for the four second suspense on that. Can’t wait to see what deal he made was about and to who. But like, he was winning the fight. adam almost killing comes out of nowhere. Is he physically weak, so if someone lands a hit on him he goes down easy?

So one of the dragons did die, but which one? Who knows cuz the other one doesn’t show back up.

I did not need to see vox and val making out. Isn’t val just licking a screen?

Sera’s back. And emily, who I called sara 2 cuz names don’t stick in my brain. I guess the problems they were having are solved. Emily what happened to helping charlie- BITCH WHAT

PEN!?!?

Sera looks horrified.

Oh, Lilith, hello…in heaven. What.

How is charlie threatening the foundation of heaven. idk if lute even knows about pen yet, but like charlie hasn't really done anything yet

Cool cliff hangers I guess.

Ending thoughts.

Pen being in heaven hopefully means we get to see more of it, but like we didn’t get enough of him as a character. Or anyone for that matter. He died so suddenly that it felt more like a joke than a tragedy.

Ending thoughts for the entire season might come later, but like everything in this was rushed. The songs were lackluster. nothing felt earned, while the answers were handed to the the cast.

I don't have high hopes for season two or the story as a whole

[ugh its almost 2am I might come back to this]

[elementaskylos345]

Urik's Journal

A series of stone tablets that carry the weary words of one man isolated at the top of the Watcher's Spire, struggling to survive and struggling to keep his mind.

This is written specifically with a humanized au in mind, so don't freak out when things have bones

!!Trigger Warnings in tags!!

Higher beings these words are for you alone.

Not really, but it feels like only higher beings can survive this madness. For those that find this journal collection in the future I am Urik, assistant to Lurien the Watcher. So much has happened over the last few months and everything is so overwhelming right now. So. I've decided to begin journaling to gather my thoughts and keep myself sane.

So, day 1, I suppose. I'm trying to keep quiet so the husks outside don't claw at the door. Thankfully the stone of these tablets is soft enough to chisel and not make too much noise. I don't think I'm in any real danger but I hate that noise. Knowing they were once my friends and coworkers makes their shambling and mumbling and feral clawing utterly unbearable. I can't stand that I know it's them out there.

Despite everything the king has done, sacrificing so many, the infection remains. it was all in vain. I can only hope that this infection is not happening in other kingdoms.

•••

Day 2

With the telescope in this room I can watch the ground even from this great height… I hate it. I wish I could put an end to this. So many people die every day. I can't see fine details but I can see enough. I don't know if I can say I'm lucky, trapped at the peak of the tallest building in the city but at least I'm safe. I don't think I'll be watching the ground below.

On a vaguely related note I'm beginning to run low on food. Though this may only be the second day of the journal I have been stuck in Lurien's room for what I think is a few months now. I'm down to just a few bags of the rations that were handed out. Thankfully it's pretty nonperishable so I can stretch it out over a week or two I think but I need to figure something out quickly. Getting food last time nearly got me killed. I'm no fighter, I'm just a man.

•••

Day 4

I've skipped day 3 as nothing interesting occurred but I eat fresh meat today. I managed to lure a vengefly inside using some of the dried mushroom and managed to cage it. I still need to actually kill and prepare it but I still managed to catch something! Vengeflies don't fly this high up enough to make this method consistent but this is still progress.

I will need to venture outside of this room and possibly outside of the tower. If I keep my distance I might be able to get by without conflict but I don't count on it. The husks outside still seem to have some function of the mind left. They speak things on rare occasions, calling on Master Lurien or even myself.

•••

Day 5

By the king I miss seasoning. But I live another day and feel better than I have in weeks. Maybe it's in my bead but the fresh food feels good. However, I still need a consistent source of food. If I can get down to the bridge or just above I could set up a few traps there. I'd need to make traps and get past the guards but it seems a decent enough plan. I'll think of some back-up ideas but that one feels very plausible.

•••

Day 8

The plan did not work. I made a few traps that worked somewhat consistently in tests and caught one vengefly but when I made my journey down to the bridge I was attacked by one of Elite Guards. I lost the traps and now have a nasty gash across my back. I think I can treat this and prevent infection but this is bad. I'm sat against Lurien's resting podium. He cannot help me but his presence is comforting…

I dread what might happen in the coming days.

•••

Day 10

I am in a great deal of pain.

Day 11

I stepped out onto the balcony today. I intended to wash the wound on my back but I stood outside for a good while feeling the rain fall on me. I wept. My situation is bleak. I am alone, I have dwindling supplies, there is nothing but death, and there is no end in sight. I feel the infection swimming in the back of my mind, tempting me closer. I hate this. I hate it all. So much death and so much pain all from one angry and spiteful god. I can't help but ask why. Why us? What crime did we commit to warrant this violent reaction?

I think I'm going to sleep for a while. I'm so tired. I know it's risky to dream but I'm not sure what I live for at the moment.

•••

I've lost track of the days. The timer system in the tower broke down and I've not the skill to repair it. It has been at least 3. I am out of food. I've tried to trap a vengefly but with no luck. I'm not exactly sure what to do. I'm scared to leave the room. I'd pray to the Pale King but he won't answer. He can't help me. He's already failed his kingdom. What could he do to help me?

•••

I need to do something. The rainwater is plenty abundant and rich in minerals but it simply isn't enough. I could sneak into one of the floors below. I need to. I will bring one of the candle holders as a weapon. If I perish… oh well I suppose

A few hours later. I was unsuccessful but I did fend off a Lance Sentry and steal her weapon. It's not food but I guess I'm better prepared for a dangerous encounter? I'll try again soon. Maybe. I'm exhausted mentally so I might go hungry another day.

•••

I'm going out again. It is the next day I'm pretty sure. I'm going to get something.

I found some dried mushrooms near the Watcher Knights. It's not much but I'll take it. I'm beginning to regret hiding up in the tower and not attempting to flee while there were enough people between me and the husks to attempt to break past the walls. But I couldn't abandon Lurien. He may not need me now but I feel I have a moral obligation to remain at his side. I still need to hunt for food since I ate all I found. Hopefully I can lure in a vengefly or something.

••▪︎

Ask and you shall receive. Captured and cooked a vengefly. I feel energized so I might go down to try and retrieve the traps I dropped. In hindsight trying to set the traps up so far away was a poor decision. They might catch something but they're pointless if I can't reach them. It may not be the best source of food but I might set the traps up either by the telescope or balcony. I'll try the balcony. Hopefully the infection has made them less intelligent and they won't avoid this area after some time.

I have returned. One of them was destroyed and one was damaged. That leaves me one functioning trap. I think I can repair the trap but I'll do it later, I need to set the first one up

•••

Same day, different journal. Retrieved my broken traps and set up the one working trap. I have to admit writing and planning my survival has kept my mind busy. The infection whispers to me but I can mostly ignore it. The voice does grow louder and the light in my dreams brighter but I don't feel myself getting lost just yet. It's certainly inevitable that the infection will claim me but for now I survive. For who and for what sake I still can't say. Maybe I don't want to leave Master Lurien. He's all I have right now. I swore I'd watch over him… that's probably it. I live for him

I'm not sure if he's even aware in his eternal sleep but I will be here and I hope he knows that.

▪︎••

I've repaired the second trap and set it up. I've also scraped a bit of bone marrow out of the tiny bones of the vengefly and ate that. It tastes surprisingly good for being uncooked. The other bones have sat too long to be safe to eat but I'm taking note of this for the future.

Unrelated but I'm glad Lurien had so many stone tablets laying about. I was never a fan of the silk parchment. The humid air and wet conditions make keeping them maintained rather difficult, especially now. They may be easier to write on but they won't stand the test of time.

Back to my survival. The traps are set up and I can continue to scavenge. My wound is healing and I think I've grown used to the pain, it certainly makes getting around a bit easier. I can at least stand up straight again. I will go out and look for food and supplies after I sleep for a little bit. I have learned how to avoid the husks up here so they have become a non issue.

•▪︎•

A few scraps.

I shouldn't be surprised I'm struggling but I'm still frustrated. Food was tight before the infection got this bad so it's only logical food is tight now but this feels absurd. I know the other residents and guards had to eat and the places where the food was stored is behind danger. I'm just complaining. Of all the places to be trapped I feel like the city is probably the worst. Most of the food came from outside the city. But the king sealed the gates. He only trapped us all here. He sealed our fate.

I wish these fucking birds would just take the bait. I'm not eating nearly enough.

•▪︎▪︎

I apologize for my vulgarity in the last journal but I feel my frustration is justified. I've nibbled on one of the canvases just to lull the need to chew on something. It will not satiate my hunger and I think I just feel worse now but it felt good in the moment I think. I moved one of the traps to the telescope. Maybe them being farther apart will increase the chances I catch something - anything. I might need to do something drastic at this point

▪︎▪︎▪︎

Before I write on the subject of this journal I want to preface - I am ashamed of what I've done. I am desperate and in a situation most bleak but this does not make what I did any better.

I now have food for a few days. The way I acquired it is awful. His name was Elgor. He was in charge of overseeing the guards' scheduling in the spire. He was a kind but stern man before the infection claimed his mind. I often shared lunch with him when our schedules allowed it. I did not target his husk out of any hatred or any reason other than desperation.

I used the lance I acquired from the Sentry I fought a while ago and attacked him. He slapped me around with a surprising amount of strength but I ended the encounter as quickly as I could. I never thought I'd ever need to butcher a man let alone eat one. I had to cover his face with rags to not look at him while I did it. I question now if being a mindless husk would be better than this. At least the husks seem to be protecting each other.

▪︎▪▪︎

I am still reeling from what I've done. I hope to write a full biography for Elgor from this. I feel dirty. I feel as though I've defiled his corpse. I've noticed the husks up here seem more anxious in his absence which makes me feel worse. I'm questioning if I should've just starved. I've apologized to Elgor countless times and I can only hope some part of him somewhere knows I did not want to do this and that I regret it.

Despite my feelings I can't bring myself to ditch his body. I killed him to eat and at this point I should go through with it. I've already started. I'll give him as proper a burial as I can when I can.

•▪︎•

It has been several days. Elgor has sustained me and I've dedicated the energy he gave me to preserving his memory as best as I can. I've wrapped his body in cloth and hope I can bring him to ground level soon. I think I've made peace with what I've done, I'm not quite sure. I'm not sure I feel a whole lot right now.

I have caught one vengefly and have decided to wait until I kill and eat it. I have far more energy now so I can begin my search for a stable food source once again as I am NOT doing what I did to Elgor to someone else. I refuse to. I can't.

••▪︎

After a few more days I've finally made progress. I've gathered a few days worth of rations from one of the guards’ rest areas. This isn't anything sustainable but I'm so, so happy about this. I thank Elgor for giving me the energy I needed to get to this point. I'm also getting better at avoiding the husks.

Though the light is getting brighter, it's getting louder. She calls me by name. I'd almost forgotten my own name. I'm torn between hoping for my continued survival or giving Elgor the burial he needs. There's no way I'm getting to the resting grounds but perhaps I can send him off into one of the rivers that flow through the city. I doubt it would be the burial he'd want but I don't have much to offer.

•¤▪︎

The infection rings in my mind. I'm thinking about it more and more. So I risked it and took Elgor to the ground. It had been so long since I was on solid ground. I found a somewhat secluded area And watched his body disappear below the surface of the water. I stayed there for a while and wept for him. I feel terrible. Just a few days before the infection becomes a bigger issue I cannibalize what was left of him. The husks do not speak anymore, the only word I've heard is “attack” from the Flying Sentries, but this doesn't make things better.

I'm going to spend time with Lurien. I really need it right now.

¤•▪︎

My mind feels not my own. I fight to regain myself. All in vain. All in vain. The king failed. The king failed us all. He killed us all. I just want to go back to the way things were. I wish I could see my friends’ eyes full of life, I wish I could speak with Lurien again, I wish I could be happy again, I wish the light never descended upon this land. I miss the peace, I miss my friends, I miss my life. I'd give anything to go back to that.

פ¤

Lost all of them. Lost all. Lost. Master's given life for naught. Not worth. The cost too great cost too great. Lost all kingdom life light. None left left to grieve. Non left to give. How much more must we suffer?

¤¤¤

Master, light calls.

•°×

I'm not sure how but I still remain. This journal comes many days after the last. Maybe even weeks. Time eludes me. Reading over my last three journals and am astonished the infection didn't take me.

It is very hazy but I sat by Master Lurien and I think I was trying to fight it off. Perhaps I was thinking of what remains and how empty the future feels because I remember giving up. I so clearly remember it because that's when the infection backed off. It still rings like windchimes In my mind but it's less overbearing. I don't understand. Why am I still alive? I've never seen anyone get so close to the edge but pull themselves away.

Even as I write I don't fight it. I don't have anything to fight for. I'll update my journal series if I'm still aware and I deem it necessary I suppose.

×▪︎°

I ponder if being infected would be better than this. There is nothing for me here. There is nothing for anyone. This place is no better than the wasteland outside of the kingdom borders. At least with being a mindless husk I would not need to feel this pain. it's not even the physical pain it's the mental anguish. I cannot put into words the despair I feel

It's indescribable

I want revenge but seek revenge on a king that abandoned us. I want things to change but they will never change. I want to be happy but this hellish place will not allow that. Master Lurien, I'm sorry, but I don't know how much more I can endure. How much more I can despair. How much more I can hate. I crave a death deeper than that of the body - I don't want there to be an afterlife. The gods of this world are unbearable and I want naught for them to hold my soul. Let me fade. Let me become nothing.

*▪︎+

It has been a very long time since I've written in this specific series. My words are written elsewhere. I am in a much more stable position and state of mind. Still not a mindless husk. I acquired some edible fungus from the edge of the city and have started a small farm. I recently relocated the traps to a lower floor as I'm far more adept at navigating the spire and its dangers. I've also made more of them.

I've picked up many hobbies to keep myself occupied - painting, carving, crafting, singing. I've also explored some of the city. Most of what I've seen has been completely destroyed. I don't explore often. Not much to see unless I want to depress myself. I've fallen into a consistent routine and found a reason to continue living.

I swore myself to Master lurien. I'd be forever at his side. I think I've mentioned this in previous journals but I've decided my days will be spent preserving him and what he did for this fallen kingdom. The bastard king may have failed us and sacrificed so many, including Lurien, for nothing but Lurien was loyal to the end. He sacrificed his life for that fool. So I'll make sure his name, who he is, and what he did is not forgotten. I hope Herrah and Monomon have someone who would do the same for them as well.

×*●

Much time has passed and I once again return to my journal. I feel I need to on occasion to remember who I am and who I was before the infection became an issue. I had forgotten my name. Urik. It feels so foreign. Disconnected. I had to dig around for my first journal just to find it. This series of tablets has been discarded to a corner almost entirely. Perhaps I need to focus on myself some to reconnect with who I am.

But perhaps not. I don't think I'm that important anymore. I will live here, preserve here, and die here. Simple as that and I am at peace with and find comfort in that. There's nothing else for me so why concern myself with things that won't matter in the long run. For all I know I will be nothing more than a corpse in a month's time. It changes nothing. I've written all I can about Lurien. This will likely be the final entry in this series since I am not what matters here in this spire. What matters is my master.

@●¤

My past self is a damned fool for not realizing just how much time “the rest of my days” could be. The time gaps between these entries keeps getting longer and longer. I'm certain the time frame between the last two was almost a whole year. No clue how long it's been since I last wrote since it feels like eternity. I can only write, watch, and read and paint the same damn things over and over and over and over again until I need something new.

The infection has become something of a friend to me, one of the few constants of my life. It tells me things and I acknowledge them. Its influence over me fluctuates. Some time I am in a daze and some time I am barely affected by it. But despite everything it's done I can't see my life without it anymore. I'm definitely just lonely and borderline mad but I've nothing else to share to the no one that will read this, so.

@#■

Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above. Years alone. Years above.

●¤°

What the hell was I on last entry? I don't remember writing that and just stumbled upon it in Lurien's Journal room. Maybe I was having some kind of infected bout or something. Oh well I guess

#■•

I have not experienced fear this intense in an eternity. Someone entered the spire. Someone bested the Knights below. Someone sought to hurt HURT Lurien. I managed to convince them otherwise sending them off to a strange sight I found below the city. I've locked down spire from the Knights room to up here. If that THING BASTARD comes back they aren't getting to him. To one will hurt Lurien. The seals must remain. They cannot be broken. They will not break. Never break.

@◇>

The ground shook with a might I have not felt in forever. A deep bellowing roar from the waterways. At least we're safe up here. Never breaking seals. Lurien is safe. Forever safe. The light is gone and my mind is empty. It's quiet. Quiet. Too quiet. I hate this. Why is it gone? Gone from me? I can't stand the silence. Empty empty silence. Loud and far too quiet. I need to fill the void. I can start in darkness but I need the background noise I can't stand it can't stand it can't stand it CANT STAND IT

The anger has returned. DAMNED KING

He killed us all, trapped us all, doomed us all. Nothing left for us because of him. No more life no more light. No more. Nothing but empty. Empty. I can't understand why Lurien was so loyal to a fool. A fool that used him. Doomed him. Killed him. I suffer in silence. Silent. My mind is empty, my will is shaken, and my voice is meek. But I remain. Remain at Lurien's side. Never leave. Never forget. Never abandon.

[wyn-n-tonic]

So... I haven't been feeling super great and it could just be because my period is three weeks late and all my hormones are in a pile up causing me to be insane or it could be the 27 years worth of major depressive disorder just chilling in my brain or it could be the EDS and the possible POTS, you know? It could be all of those! It could be none of those! But I will say... I have seen a significant decrease in my stress levels and I would like to talk about the things I'm doing for self care that are keeping me from losing my fucking mind.

Read more because this shit is just me rambling about my favorite self care things. Like I've really finally found a good combo for me and it makes me so happy that it doesn't feel like a chore. It's just nice!!! Also, this is not medical advice, this is just your friendly neighborhood mentally ill girly who deals with chronic illness sharing the things that make me happy.

FIRST OF ALL!!!! WASH YOUR FACE!!!! THEN TAKE YOUR FUCKING MEDS!!!!! I take my meds every single day at 8:10am because it's good to take your meds at the same time every single day *but* I've also discovered that's the best time to take my adderall so that it's really kicking in by 9 after I've done all my emails and things and need to focus on, like, actually doing my job. I've also been taking women's multivitamins and magnesium glycinate supplements. I feel like they've both made me less of a bitch because it's helped with the pain.

I have been eating breakfast! Not just iced coffee and prayers either, I've been eating a real ass breakfast. Everyday I make myself a little breakfast sandwich with an English muffin, egg, sausage and cheese of choice (I like colby jack, do whatever tf you want). This equals out to about 28g of protein and I'm supposed to have at least 30g first thing in the morning so it's pushed to 31g (maybe more) with the oat milk latte I make with my cute little espresso maker and milk frother. I have also limited my caffeine intake to one silly little coffee a day (but I'll have the occasional sips of coke zero when I feel a migraine trying to move in).

I've been working out recently. Even if I don't go to the gym, I try to get up and go for little walks. Which is nice. After I move, I want an under the desk treadmill.

I have a really bad habit of biting/picking my nails, especially when my anxiety is high or I feel the need to fidget but, for about the last few months, whenever I get the urge to bite or pick, I use cuticle oil instead and have been rubbing that into my nails/cuticles and it tastes god awful so of course I do not bite.

After work, I take a shower and I've started using the Saltair body wash in Santal Bloom because it smells very good TO ME. They have a bunch of different scents. But please remember that body wash is only a scent so please wash yourself with actual soap (and use a washcloth too oh my god, why is this a debate??? WASH IS LITERALLY IN THE NAME). Also, wash behind your ears EVERY SINGLE TIME.

ALSO night showers > morning showers. Argue with a wall because why would I want to get in my cozy bed with a body that has been steeped in outside germs all day??? Dirty feet??? ON MY SHEETS?!?! No.

I have *never* liked lotion because it's all too greasy or it smells gross or it's BOTH. I just get the autistic ick. I don't like things that sit ON my skin. But I know I should use it and I know I need to so I keep buying different brands of lotion but then I never finish them because oh my god so so gross and greasy. Anyway, somebody recommended that I try eos brand lotion and I have been using the coconut waters scent and oh my god. I recommend this lotion but use whatever you want and buy whatever scent you want, it's just nice. This lotion pairs very well with the body wash I like and it just makes me feel cozy as I get ready for bed.

Also wash your face again!!!!

(For skincare, I double cleanse with an oil cleanser & then a salicylic acid cleanser in the AM and a hyaluronic acid cleanser in the PM)

And I've been dermaplaning lately. That shit slaps. Why wasn't I doing that before???

And people keep telling me to buy topical magnesium to help with chronic pain but I kept getting links for Amazon and the thing about Amazon is... I don't like to use them if I can help it but I especially do not want to buy, like, make up or food or skincare products or vitamins on there because the amount of unregulated third party sellers freaks me out and I'm not trying to pop a rat poison supplement instead of what i actually ordered. You know? Anyway, my friend told me to get this Being Frenshe soothing stick... besties..... I have been using this shit ALL DAY LONG It's going on my thighs, my neck, my shoulders, my fingers, my knees, my ankles, my shins and it's so good for the chronic pain. And it smells so good and layers very nicely with the lotion and the body wash.

Seriously, my skin is so soft and I haven't really felt the need to pop a pain pill in a bit, my sleep is improved, my ability to calm my heart rate down during the day has improved. Did I mention my skin is soft?

Also, I'm currently losing weight and still healing from my biopsy (yes, I know it's been three months!!!) and I feel like the body wash + lotion combo I'm basically living in daily (sometimes twice a day because the showers are just so relaxing and not a chore to me now) are soooo helpful for my stretchmarks and scars.

Also, I've been turning my computer off an hour before bed to read which has been lovely.

Also, I bought enough lip balm (also eos because it's shea and not beeswax) to keep in different places. So I have a bed lip balm, a desk lip balm and a purse lip balm with one floater just randomly around the house.

And the *ONLY* AI we support in this household is the kind in my fancy little toothbrush that guides me in how best to brush my teeth.

Anyway, I just love being in my bed cozy sleep shirt smelling like coconut and vanilla and watching monster movies while not being in pain and having a resting heart rate that is NOT in the 120s. It's so beautiful. especially because, for the longest time, I couldn't get my resting heart rate below 85 while SLEEPING.

[grayskies2525]

A Year of Falling | Ben & Arlo | M/M | Part 7

Part 7 is shorter and continues from the last chapter. This one's definitely more care-taking heavy with less emphasis on sneezing. Part 8 will jump forward in time.

CW: The first scene shows Ben dealing with the grief he feels over losing his parents. Be careful going into it, and if you want to skip it, you can just start after the  dividing line thingy. If you do skip, there are a few tidbits about Ben's childhood and family you will miss, but ultimately, they're not *too* important.

Link to all parts: A Year of Falling

________________________

Chapter Seven: June - Fourth Cold of the Year (cont.)

Ben has never cooked with tofu before, but the challenge awakens something inside of him he’d forgotten. Well, it’s not so much that he forgot — more like he deliberately pushed it away into the farthest recesses of his mind. Ben’s not someone who creates; he’s never been one to add to the world. He takes and takes without offering anything in return. That’s just who Ben is. But the closest he’s ever come to feeling like he can contribute something positive to the world is when he cooks.

These days, cooking conjures too many memories of his parents — lazy Saturdays as a child spent dancing around the kitchen with his mom, some classic rock song his dad chose playing in the background, usually Queen. His parents had been busy with work — his mom at Dairy Queen, his dad as a mechanic. As busy as they were, they still had a home-cooked dinner together most nights — even if the meal was only hamburger helper. His mom insisted that Ben help in preparing the food. As a child, this involved standing to assist, often stirring or simply handing his mom ingredients. As he entered his teens, Ben started cooking entire meals himself. He’d serve them to his parents with pride after they came home from their long shifts. As someone who barely passed his classes and participated in no sports or extracurriculars or did anything that warranted special notice, the compliments about his food meant the world to him. 

He thinks about this as he seasons the tofu for Arlo’s soup. Would his mom eat tofu if Ben cooked it? Ben considers this and is sure she would, but would she like it? She was definitely a fan of eating meat, especially red meat — a fact that likely contributed to the heart attack that killed her at only the age of fifty-three. Well, that and the smoking. And the lack of exercise. And her disdain for going to the doctor. And, well, everything about her lifestyle. Ben smiles as he remembers his mom’s stubbornness. Then, as always, the smile dissolves and he closes his eyes and grits his teeth in anger at how if she just would have taken care of herself — at all, to literally any degree — she would probably still be here. He knows he can’t actually be certain of that, especially considering the heart attack happened a month after his dad died in a car crash. The sudden and extreme grief undoubtedly put stress on her heart. Still, though, if she had taken care of her heart better, she may have been able to recover.

Ben stares at the tofu. He’s sure his mom would, at the very least, scoff at Ben if he handed her a bowl of “chicken noodle soup” made with tofu. But she’d still take it, say something like “I can’t believe my own son would subject me to such horrors,” then proceed to eat every bite just to appease Ben. 

He hates that she only exists now in these hypothetical scenarios. He wants to just fucking ask her what she would say if he cooked her tofu, but he can’t and every time he’s reminded of that fact, it hits him with more force and pain than he imagines it would to get hit by a car.

 Ben uses the back of his hand to swipe at the sudden moisture on his cheeks.

Three years after their deaths, he still can’t disentangle these associations. Will he always tear up every time he so much as chops a carrot?

And it’s not even just cooking. Sometimes it feels like everything. Every single day, without fail, he thinks about how appalled his dad would be to see the current state of Ben’s car. He’d helped Ben buy it when Ben had been eighteen. As a mechanic, his dad taught him everything Ben needed to do to maintain the car, and Ben has done literally none of it since he passed. Ben would never admit it to anyone — he barely can to himself — but that’s what makes taking care of his car so damn hard now. Bringing his Corolla to a stranger always proves to be nausea inducing — grief-laced memories crashing over him, taking away his breath, causing him to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to keep the tears from spilling over. 

He bought a new vacuum last month — a vacuum — and, removing it from the box, his throat had tightened as an unwelcome thought lodged itself into his mind that he couldn’t shake for several minutes.

Mom’s never going to get to see this.

It was entirely absurd. If his mom had been alive, she wouldn’t have given two shits about his new vacuum because, again, it’s a vacuum. But she had seen his old one and now she would never get to see this one and for some reason that matters.

These thoughts seem to hit him after any kind of change. The same thing happened when the Walmart in town changed their layout and moved everything to a different place. A normal person would react to the change as though it were an annoying but minor inconvenience. Ben, of course, is not normal. So he, instead, reacted by standing still in the middle of an aisle, his breath catching in his throat, as decades of  memories of shopping with his parents raced through his mind. Again, the same kind of thought attacked him.

They’ll never get to see this.

Ben wanted to slap himself for the thought because they wouldn’t even want to see it. It’s Walmart. If they had a choice in the matter, they’d probably choose not to experience the shitty store moving its shitty items all around in a way that seemingly served no purpose other than to confuse people.

But it’s like all these changes — regardless of how small — are reminders of how time just keeps going. And as it keeps going, it’s taking him farther and farther away from a time when his parents were still a part of this world — from a time when regardless of how much he fucked up, the one thing he knew with no doubt was that there would still be two people loving him, unconditionally.

And time is only going to keep going. There’s going to keep being new vacuums, new cars, new stores, and eventually an entirely new Ben that his parents wouldn’t even recognize. 

Would they even recognize me now?

Through watery eyes, he stares at the bowls of chopped ingredients on the counter. He pulls the handkerchief he’s been using to deal with the remnants of his cold out from his jeans back pocket. He swipes at his eyes, blows his nose, then stands with his hands gripping the counter as he takes a deep breath before going to wash his hands. 

This is why he doesn’t cook. 

But, then, he hears a volley of harsh coughs come from the bedroom and he remembers Arlo — sick as can be in bed — and he’s reminded that he has a purpose right now. He can actually do something to help someone for once.

He shakes away his lingering sadness as he continues cooking the soup. But after three years of this, Ben knows better than to think it will stay gone for long. The emotions are still there, lurking inside him waiting for another mundane, innocuous moment before they attack.

___________

Ben is finishing up the soup when he hears footsteps coming toward the kitchen. Footsteps accompanied by coughing. He turns away from the pot and sees Arlo standing there, wearing his thick comforter like a cape and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed?” Ben asks gently.

Arlo doesn’t answer — just stares at him then blinks. Ben feels the corners of his mouth twitch in amusement at how lost Arlo looks. They are literally in Arlo’s own kitchen, yet he looks like he’s stepped onto another planet.

“Arlo, you still with me?” Ben asks, brow arched. Arlo lets out a small groan before shuffling over to Ben, his comforter dragging across the floor. 

He stops in front of Ben, sniffles, then looks at Ben with watery eyes behind his black-framed glasses. He told Ben once that he only wears his glasses when he knows he’ll be spending his day in bed — otherwise, he chooses contacts. Ben holds back a smile at how Arlo manages to look adorable even in this incredibly pitiable state.

“What are you making?” Arlo asks, sniffling again. He wraps his comforter around himself more tightly before coming in closer, clearly wanting Ben to embrace him. So, he does.

Arlo’s only an inch or so shorter than him, so his head rests comfortable against Ben’s shoulder as Ben extends his arm around Arlo to rub soothing circles on his back. 

“You okay?” Ben asks, concern building as Arlo remains still against him.

“Hm, yeah, just needed to stretch a little,” Arlo says, words muffled against Ben’s shoulder. “I’ve been in bed for so long. Why are you still here? I thought you had to work today."

Ben’s grip on Arlo tightens slightly at the unexpected question. “I work tomorrow,” he says, not exactly lying, but definitely not telling the truth. It’s such a transparent way to avoid the question that if Arlo weren’t a sleepy, sniffly mess right now, he surely would have clocked it immediately. There’s definitely guilt there, but Ben doesn’t want Arlo to feel bad about Ben staying home from work just to take care of him. “I’m making you some soup for dinner,” Ben says, quickly. “I know you’ve had nothing but ice cream today. I’ve loaded it with vegetables, since you for some reason seem to like that kind of thing,” Ben says, rolling his eyes fondly as Arlo continues to just rest against him. “Uh, you’re not, like, falling asleep on me, are you?” Ben asks.

“Maybe,” Arlo mutters.

Ben laughs, then guides the very dazed Arlo to the small kitchen table. Arlo sits down, then immediately snaps forward into a sneeze.

“HEG’Nkx’t!”

“Bless you,” Ben says with a frown. “Just in case you need a reminder — it’s so completely okay to let your sneezes out. I heavily advise it, even.”

Arlo throws his head back and scrunches his nose as if in an attempt to scratch an itch without using his hands. “Sorry, it’s just a habit, I guess,” he says, sniffling thickly.

“It’s a habit you need to break,” Ben says, seriously. “You’re going to wind up with a sinus infection or ear infection if you keep up with that.”

“You don’t know that,” Arlo mumbles, mid-nose scrunch.

“I do,” Ben says. “I Googled it before starting the soup. You’re supposed to sneeze, Arlo. It’s, like, one of the body’s most basic defense mechanisms.”

“You Googled it?” Arlo asks, brow raised. 

“Of course I Googled it. Wanted to make sure you weren’t at risk of an aneurysm or something.”

Arlo stares at him, his expression impossibly soft. So soft and full of warmth and possibly something else that Ben doesn’t want to analyze, so he clears his throat. “But, yeah. I made soup. Chicken noodle soup,” he says, gesturing to the simmering pot on the stove.

Arlo’s soft expression contorts into something much less affectionate. “Ben… I don’t eat — hold on I heh —" Arlo says, looking desperate and adorably confused.

“Need to sneeze?” Ben asks, corner of his mouth twitching.

“Yes, I have to… have to? — hh hh heh — gonna ng’t ip-gnkx’t-chuh! Ow!” Arlo takes a deep breath before bringing his closed fist up. “Ih’chieew! Chiew! Ep’chieww!”

Arlo sits in that position for a long moment, gaze seeming fixed on the wall. Slowly he brings his fist down and begins the process of uncurling his fingers. Ben watches and frowns at the amount of effort such a simple movement seems to necessitate. Arlo stretches his fingers slowly outward, grimacing, before he finally lowers his hand.

“Bless you, and thank you for letting them out. But, Arlo, really… don’t worry about covering. They’re literally my germs, first of all, and even if they weren’t I really couldn’t care less, okay?”

Arlo’s still staring down at his hand, his mouth in a tight line. “I should be able to cover a sneeze without being in pain,” he says, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated. “It’s summer. Usually the meds work decently enough for my fingers not to feel this bad when the weather’s warm.”

Ben looks at Arlo for a moment, at a loss for what to say. Supporting someone with a chronic illness is a completely new territory to him and he’s undoubtedly going to say or do something wrong, so he naively thinks it would possibly be best to simply not say or do anything. 

But Arlo looks so sad. He continues to stare at his hands as though he feels personally betrayed by them, and Ben realizes he probably does. 

“You said getting sick can trigger flare-ups, right?” Ben asks, choosing his words carefully. “I honestly don’t know anything about arthritis, or uh, rheumatoid arthritis, I guess? Honestly, I don’t really know the difference between the two,” Ben says, feeling his cheeks warm. 

Arlo looks up, looking tired. “The symptoms are similar, but the causes are different. And usually older people are the ones who get the regular type of arthritis. RA affects younger people and it’s an auto-immune disorder. So it’s my own stupid immune system attacking my joints. For basically no reason. And yeah, being sick triggers flares, which is just…” Arlo lets out a long sigh. “Which is really frustrating because I already feel sick enough during a flare. I usually get fevers with them even when I’m not sick. So when I am… it’s like twice as bad, you know?” Arlo says, looking down at the table.

“Yeah, so… honestly I can’t imagine what that’s like, at all,’ Ben says, rubbing the back of his neck. “But um, it looks really, really shitty.”

Arlo huffs out an amused laugh. “Yes, really shitty may be the best way to describe it, actually.”

Ben grins, his eyes lighting up. “Mr. Thompson, did you just cuss?” Ben asks, clutching his chest dramatically.

Arlo blushes, but he’s smiling. “I’m thirty-two years old and I’m not in the classroom,” he says, looking sheepish.

 “Yeah, but still. You never say bad words,” Ben continues teasing, his smile growing wider. “You always say things like ‘this is quite wretched,’ or like, ‘how dreadful,’ or like ‘what a bother.’ But never shitty.”

Arlo’s laughing in earnest now. “First of all, I don’t say any of those words. It’s like you perceive me as a British old man, or something.”

“Can I be honest?” Ben asks, amusement lacing his tone. “That kind of is how I perceive you. I mean, those are totally the vibes you give off.”

“Shutup, they are not” Arlo says, cheeks pink, though still smiling. “You’re a bad influence on me. Your much less sophisticated vernacular is obviously infectious.”

“This is what I’m saying,” Ben says with a playful roll of his eyes. “I mean who even says words like ‘vernacular’?”

Arlo snorts. “An English teacher, I guess,” he says. Then his head, once again jerks forward in another set of sneezes. “Ets’chieww! T’schiew! ET’schiew! Chiew!”

Ben is oddly pleased to see the sneezes spray out over the table. It’s certainly not sanitary, but they’re past the point of that mattering, and it’s relieving to see Arlo not putting himself through pain for the sake of being polite. 

“Bless you,” Ben says before he turns around to the pot of soup. He ladles out a bowl for Arlo, puts a spoon in it, then brings it over. “I was kidding earlier, in case that wasn’t clear. I made it with vegetable broth and tofu, so don’t worry — your weird vegetarian morals aren’t at stake,” Ben teases.

Arlo stares at the soup, frowning. “Ben?”

Ben’s eyes widen at the apprehension written all over Arlo’s face. “What?” he asks hesitantly. 

“You know that I get easily embarrassed, right?” 

“Yeah, I may have noticed that.”

“Well, I feel less embarrassed around you than I do pretty much everyone else, except for maybe my parents and my sisters,” Arlo says.

“Okay…” Ben says, dragging the word out because he doesn’t understand the direction of this conversation.

Arlo closes his eyes, then lets out another sigh. “I’m telling you this because I’m going to ask you to do something that I would feel embarrassed to ask anyone else.”

“Okay…” Ben says, again, his heart starting to race.

“I — I need you…” He sighs and Ben’s heart is now pounding in his chest. What could he possibly be wanting to ask that’s deserving of so much leadup and anxiety? “I need you to get my giant spoon. It’s in the second drawer down on the right side of the sink,” he says, finally.

“Your… your what?” Ben asks, the words not computing.

“Well, I guess it’s a misnomer to call it a giant spoon when really it’s the handle that’s giant, but it’s just easier to call it ‘giant spoon’ than to call it ‘giant-handled’ spoon,” Arlo rambles, his cheeks growing pinker. 

Ben stares before finally turning around and heading to the specified drawer. He pulls it open and, sure enough, there’s several “giant spoons,” and other similarly designed eating utensils filling the drawer.

Ben pulls out a spoon with a thick, black rubber handle. It reminds him of the spoons and forks made for kids who haven’t yet developed fine motor skills, though this handle is definitely thicker than any of the toddler utensils he’s seen before.

Ben looks at the spoon, face contorted in confusion, until it clicks. “Oh. Arlo, this is amazing! This will make eating easier, right? Like, you won’t need to use as tight of a grip on it, I assume?”

Ben smiles down at the spoon, feeling relief settle across him. He was honestly worried about the process of Arlo eating the soup, since it would require so much movement with the spoon from bowl to mouth.

“Yeah, it helps. It’s not a perfect solution, especially since my elbows are, uh… not feeling especially great today. So I’ll still have to bring the spoon up and down, which isn’t ideal, but they’ve been worse before, so I’ll manage,” Arlo says with a shrug. 

Ben has the oddest compulsion to say he’ll spoon-feed the soup to Arlo. The fact that someone as gentle and sweet as Arlo has to endure pain — any amount — just to lift a spoon to his mouth, quite frankly, pisses Ben off. Anger builds in him as he contemplates the situation, but it quickly dissolves into helplessness as he realizes he can’t do anything about a disease. There’s no one he can fight or argue with. He would spoon-feed the soup to Arlo — happily, if it kept him from dealing with pain — but he also knows the mere suggestion would likely cause Arlo to combust from embarrassment. 

So, he’s thrilled for the existence of this spoon if it can provide anything at all to ease the process for Arlo.

Ben switches out the spoon already in the bowl with the “giant” one. Arlo’s comforter falls off his shoulders and hangs off him awkwardly as he picks up the spoon, but Arlo doesn’t seem to mind.

Arlo glances sheepishly at Ben, biting his lip. “So I know I say I feel less embarrassed around you, but it is still pretty mortifying to be sitting here with my big freaking spoon.” Arlo sighs. “Ben, this is… uh, this is what dating me is going to be like, okay? You’re um… you’re going to feel like you’re dating an old man sometimes. My medication, generally, does a good job at handling the worst of it, but I still have bad days. And on those days, I have to use silly things like this,” Arlo says, glancing down at the spoon. “And I guess I want to know if you’re okay with it?”

Ben blinks several times. “You’re asking if I’m okay dating you because… because what? Because sometimes you have to use a spoon with a thick handle?” Ben can’t hold back a light laugh. “Arlo, you know, I’ve dated a few people before and I have to say, if that’s the worst thing you’re bringing to our relationship, then I really don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

“I won’t use it in public or anything,” Arlo says quickly. “I usually only use it when I’m completely alone.”

Ben narrows his eyes. “Arlo — I mean this in the kindest way possible, but why the fuck do you think I’d care about what kind of spoon you use in public?”

Arlo looks down at his soup. “I mean, some people do.”

“Some people?” Ben asks, giving Arlo a knowing look.

“Some people,” Arlo says, nodding, still looking down at his soup.

“And is ‘some people’ perhaps another way of saying Jeremy?”

Arlo looks at Ben, then winces. “Maybe.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Ben says in exasperation. “Please tell me this guy moved far, far away to, like… Australia. Yes, Australia sounds like the perfect place for him. There’s all kinds of weird, scary shit there. Felix made me watch this documentary once and they talked about this one snake that lives in Australia and it can kill people with its bite in, like, under fifteen minutes.” He pauses, seeing Arlo’s expression of horror. “Which is a fact totally unrelated to why I think Jeremy should live there,” he adds quickly, flashing Arlo a broad smile.

Arlo rolls his eyes. “No, he doesn’t live in Australia. He lives here — works at a bank. I see him around sometimes still, but mostly avoid him. But… he wasn’t all bad. Not all the time. And I mean, it was kind of attention grabbing to just bring out my giant spoon out, you know? I’d have to carry it into a restaurant, and out… It was awkward. I only did it once before it became clear it was a horrible idea. And usually when my fingers are so bad that I need my spoon, I’m not really feeling up to going out anyway because it’s never just my fingers. RA likes to attack a bunch of joints at once. But, Jeremy was tired of staying in and… well, it was only Wendy’s — not some fine dining establishment or anything, so I didn’t think it’d be a massive deal to bring it, but Jeremy was mortified, and honestly, so was I. I mean, usually the people using these things are, like, ninety. ” Arlos dips the spoon in the bowl, and Ben suspects it’s his way of avoiding eye contact with Ben.

“Arlo, what the hell are you talking about? Like, what the hell? Ninety-year olds are also the demographic for people who need to carry around oxygen tanks. But do you point and laugh when you see a seven year old with, like, cystic fibrosis, using one? No, because that’s fucking insane,” Ben says, unable to stop staring at Arlo with wide eyes. “If the spoon helps, then the spoon helps, and I will not tolerate any embarrassment over it,” Ben says, definitively. “You can take the damn thing anywhere, for all I care.”

Arlo looks up from his soup, cheeks burning. “And you say you aren’t nice,” he finally says after staring at Ben for a long time.

“I’m.. I’m not,” Ben sputters. “Didn’t you hear the threat in that statement? And all my very strong language?”

Arlo rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking as he brings a spoonful of soup up to his lips. After he takes a bite, he goes for another — his movements slow and take obvious effort. “Ben, this tastes really, really good. Have you cooked tofu before? It’s the perfect consistency,” he says before going for another bite.

It’s Ben’s turn to blush. “Well, no, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out after I pressed all the water out of it. I was not prepared for the obscene amount of water tofu has.”

Arlo laughs. “Yeah, most people are surprised by that. Ben, this is really good,” he says again, then sniffles.

“Thank you,” Ben says, sheepishly.

“I never see you cook, but you obviously can. Why do you live off Cheetos if you can cook like this?” Arlo asks, dipping his spoon back into the bowl. 

Ben looks away quickly, then turns to grab some water from the fridge. “Cooking is… you know… boring,” he lies. It’s a minor lie. A very mundane, innocuous lie that he refuses to feel bad about, even if it does make it the second time he’s told this type of lie in the past hour.

He joins Arlo at the table with his own bowl of soup. They eat in a comfortable silence for a minute or two when Arlo breaks it.

“IP’shhhhhhh! HIH’shhhhh HIH’tshooo ‘shhh ‘shhhh ep’chhh! Ep’chhh! Ep’chhhooo! Chiew chiew chiew chiew HEH chiEW ep’shhhhh ep’shhh ep’shhh HHEH! Ngt’shuuh!

“Jesus, Arlo. Bless you,” Ben says, spoon stopped midair while he stares open-mouthed at Arlo.

“Whoa, I am sorry. I don’t know why they just took over like that there. I just —” Arlo shakes his head, then turns it to the side again to avoid spraying Ben. “Et’shhh! Et’shiew! Et’shhh t’shhhiew t’shiew EP’shieeww!”

“Bless —”

“ETS’SHIEEW! EPt’SHIIEEWW! HEhh hhh HE EH’PTSHIEW!”

“Bless you, Arlo. My god. Are you okay?” Ben asks. 

“Yeah… just…” Arlo sniffles thickly — the sound wet and gurgling. “I think I’m going to lie back down. The exhaustion is hitting pretty hard again. I’ll heat up the rest of the soup later, okay? Thank you so much for making it. That was so kind of you to do. And I really don’t deserve it and ET’SHHIEW! ETS’shhhhhh!”

He feels the mist hit his face. If Ben hadn’t been sick already, he definitely would be now. 

“Ben —” Arlo starts, his eyes wide, brows drawn close together.

“Nope,” Ben interrupts. “You are forbidden from making any more apologies tonight. Especially if it’s for sneezing on me. We’ll just say we’re even now, okay?”

“But I should have covered. I —”

“You should be in bed,” Ben says before even the beginnings of an apology can fall from his lips. 

“I am suddenly very tired,” Arlo says. “Sorry I’m not the best company, right now.”

“Arlo, go to bed right now before you have the chance to apologize for something else silly.”

While Arlo gets up to do just that, Ben works on putting Arlo’s soup into Tupperware. After everything is cleaned up and put away, he heads to the bedroom. Arlo is already fast asleep, his kangaroo stuffed animal tucked into the crook of an arm, and the cat curled up on his stomach.

Ben winces at the image —not because something is wrong, but because the emotions welling up inside him are strong and unfamiliar.

He’s sure, at this moment, that he’s never come close to feeling this way about a partner before and a thought has never terrified him more because there's not even a miniscule chance of him not messing this up.

Part 8

[stark---contrast]

Take a Chance on Me

@stevetonygames team Future | Total blackout (24 prompts) | MCU (Endgame fix-it) | 4.2k words | Rated T | Tw: internalized ableism

After wielding the Infinity Stones, time seemed to move differently for Tony.

Maybe it was because of the snap that nearly killed him. Maybe it was a residue of time warping to different decades. Maybe it was elation due to the fact that they'd actually succeeded.

Or maybe Tony was just getting old.

The world was safe again and he could finally rest. And so time ticked away, seasons came and went, and before Tony knew it, Morgan was already seven and three years had passed in what felt only like months.

During that time, Pepper had moved back to the city: first merely for weekdays and then one day permanently. At least the divorce was a smooth, relatively painless process—not that Tony had expected anything else where Pepper was concerned.

Tony had debated on leaving the lakehouse but found he couldn't. Morgan deserved to keep her childhood home during the weeks that she was his, and Tony liked being near the rebuilt Avengers compound. The occasional winged figure soaring in the skies or the muted explosions of a new superhero generation being trained were tangible proof that he'd actually made a difference.

It was a somewhat solitary life. Even with Morgan, the bots and the damn alpaca scurrying about, Tony's social circle had been drastically reduced in the last decade. Conferences and extravagant parties had given way for a workshop in the garage and falling asleep to cartoons at 8 PM. Tony didn't even have to wear a disguise in public anymore: he'd simply fallen out of the general population's perception. 

It was a blessing and a curse. On one hand, Morgan wouldn't have to grow up in Tony's shadow like he had in Howard's. In fact, most of Morgan's classmates were much more awestruck over Pepper, the renowned CEO of Stark Industries, than Morgan's dad with the weird arm who picked her up from soccer practice and sometimes built robots.

On the other hand, Tony was alone a lot of the time. And after years of first living with the Avengers and then with his wife and child, he didn't do so well with loneliness anymore.

Sometimes when it got particularly bad, he'd put on the armor's helmet and play a 360 degree recording of the latest Avengers meeting at the Compound and, yes, he knew full well how sad that was. Tony had retired of his own free will and had a new family now, a daughter who required his full attention and who he loved more than anything else in the world.

But if Tony's eyes still started misting inside the helmet whenever he saw Natasha's empty chair in the meetings, that was nobody's business but his own.

Still, it wasn't like the house was empty even on the weeks Morgan was with Pepper. Rhodey visited almost every weekend, marathoning LotR with Morgan or having beers with Tony on the porch, reminiscing about the good old days like the two old geezers that they were. Happy didn't come by as often now that he no longer had to drive Tony places, but when he did, he usually brought very welcome cheeseburgers and wholly unwelcome dating advice with him.

"You know, Pepper works fifty hours a week and still has time to date," Happy said.

"Well, anyone would fall for Pepper," Tony said around a bite of beef patty and cheddar cheese. "She just has to show up on a date and say one sentence and bam, boyfriend acquired. Not very time-consuming."

"At least she's putting herself out there," Happy insisted. "But if you want to keep being a hermit, there are a bunch of apps—"

"Yeah, because surely I'd be a hit on those," Tony huffed. "Not so much genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist these days; more like single dad, amputee in chronic pain, lost half of my assets in the divorce and spent the remainder rebuilding the Compound. What a catch!"

"The right person won't care about any of that," Happy said. "You just have to take the plunge. Don't you wish you had someone to share your life with?"

"I have Morgan," Tony simply replied, though that wasn't the entire truth.

Because there was also Steve.

Steve was the reason Tony had only lost an arm instead of his life, leaping across what felt like half of the battlefield and flinging himself at Tony to share the burden of the stones. Realistically, probably most of the burden; they knew from the Guardians that even just one stone could give five enhanced individuals a nasty zap when using its power. And nanotech armor or not, Tony was only a baseline human.

After Thanos' army faded away, Steve was the last thing Tony saw before he passed out and the first thing he saw when he woke up. Tony had stared at Steve's dumbstruck face hovering near the hospital bed, rasped "Please tell me nobody kissed me," and Steve had laughed. Just like back in New York.

Except this time, Steve didn't go on a fuck-you-all roadtrip after and leave Tony to deal with the collateral (and emotional) damage. Instead, he'd decided he was personally responsible for the upkeep of Tony and Pepper's lakehouse, and also picking up Morgan from kindergarten when Pepper was busy and going grocery shopping as long as Tony couldn't drive and feeding Gerald the moody alpaca that had already kicked him in the shin—twice. Steve would show up every few days and Tony would pretend to be annoyed even as Morgan squealed and ran out into the driveway to greet him. Clearly, Steve was bored after passing on the shield to Sam, and helping Tony "Designated Charity Case" Stark was either his way of feeling useful or apologizing to Pepper for crippling her husband.

Probably both.

To his credit, Tony did try to fight Steve on it the first few months, but he really should have learned by then that there was no out-stubborning Steve Rogers when it came to doing the right thing. Tony had fully expected Steve's wellness checks to stop as soon as he received his prosthetic arm and finished his physical therapy, but that was almost two years ago and Tony still had leftovers in the fridge from when Steve cooked dinner for him and Morgan last weekend.

If anything, Steve's visits had only become more frequent over the years, which had made some sense after the divorce, but not so much now that Tony had almost full mobility of his arm back. Still, Steve was a big help and Morgan obviously loved him, so Tony had grown kind of fond of their weird little routine and wasn't about to ruin it by demanding Steve's motivations.

Of course, other people weren't as willing to ignore the subject.

"So… you and Steve," Bruce said when he was visiting for his semi-regular science talks with Tony—which more often than not ended in tea and Avengers gossip and raiding Morgan's cookie stash. The Hulk's personality might lie dormant, but his appetite did not.

"There is no me and Steve," Tony huffed. "There's just Steve and Steve's guilt complex. He likes collecting sad people missing an arm; it's kind of his thing, if you hadn't noticed."

"Uh-huh," Bruce said.

"I'm telling you, that guy sees someone with a prosthetic and immediately whips out the adoption papers," Tony kept going. "But hey, if he wants to waste his life mowing my lawn and washing my dishes, I'm not about to complain. Having your personal supersoldier is a lot cheaper than paying for a gardener or cleaning service—and much more efficient when it comes to chopping firewood, too."

"Right," Bruce said. "So who are the flowers from, Tony?"

Tony kept his face carefully neutral and resisted the urge to glance at the bouquet he knew was sitting in a vase on the coffee table. Steve had brought the flowers a week ago and they were starting to wilt, but Tony kept "forgetting" to throw them away.

"Morgan likes flowers," Tony said in explanation.

"I doubt Steve would bring your kid flowers that mean 'Please give me a chance'," Bruce said, because of course he happened to be fluent in flower language. "Have you ever considered he might be sticking around for some other reason than guilt?"

"Jesus, Bruce, let the man bring some platonic flowers!" Tony exclaimed. "You know you're perpetuating toxic masculinity, right? I'll file a complaint to Avengers HR and sic Carol on you."

Bruce rolled his eyes so hard Tony thought he saw a flash of green in them. At least the Hulk would have laughed at the absurd notion of Steve trying to court Tony.

"Anyway, as I was saying about the particle collider…" Tony started, then went quiet as he heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle pulling up in the driveway.

"Oh look, Steve's home," Bruce deadpanned.

"Ha ha, very funny," Tony said. He checked the calendar on the fridge only to confirm what he already knew; it was indeed Tuesday, and Steve wasn't supposed to come by until Friday to help Tony unload the hay bales he'd ordered for his ungrateful alpaca. "He probably just broke his phone or something and wants me to fix it. Sit tight, I'll be right back."

Tony didn't wait for Bruce's reply before walking out on the porch. Steve was already getting off his bike, but rather than the dirt-stained jeans or a sinfully tight t-shirt Tony was used to seeing him in while he did his handiwork around the property, Steve was dressed in a leather jacket and had even styled his hair.

Oh, and on top of looking unfairly good he was also carrying a bouquet of red tulips.

"Tony!" Steve's face lit up and he practically jogged up to meet Tony. "How was your day?"

Tony blinked. "It's Tuesday."

"Yeah, uh…" Steve's smile turned sheepish. "I just thought I'd swing by to see if you wanted to grab dinner together? Oh, and I drove past a florist on the way—here, these are…I mean, you can have them. If you want."

Steve shoved the flowers at Tony and he grabbed them more out of reflex than anything else.

"...Thanks?" Tony said, regarding Steve skeptically. "I'll have to say no on the dinner, though."

"Oh," Steve said, his face falling like Tony had kicked a puppy instead of declining to eat with him.

"I have a week's worth of leftovers to get through because you made enough to feed a small army. Remember?"

Steve frowned. "You didn't throw them away?"

"Well, somebody who grew up during the great depression has taught me not to waste food." Tony smirked. "But hey, you guys have a good time."

"...What?"

"Oh come on, you're clearly dressed up," Tony said, gesturing to all of Steve. "It's obviously some kind of group outing that you wanted to invite the resident hermit to. No need to keep up the act."

Steve was quiet for a beat—probably embarrassed Tony had seen through his white lies—before he seemed to deflate.

"Yeah," Steve said. "Sorry. It was a dumb idea. Have a good night, Ton—Bruce!?"

Tony heard the doorframe creak as Bruce squeezed himself through it.

"Hiya, Steve!" Bruce chirped way too cheerfully. "Funny seeing you here."

Tony glared at Bruce. Bruce resolutely ignored it.

"Yeah, you too," Steve said and, geez, he even pulled out the fake Captain America smile. "Sorry for intruding, I didn't see your car. Weren't you two supposed to be meeting next week?"

"Oh, yeah, Tony just rescheduled a few days ago," Bruce said, the traitor. Thankfully, he didn't know that the reason for Tony's urgent change of plans was because the five days without both Morgan and Steve would have been miserable otherwise.

"And it's no biggie, I was just leaving anyway—Jen's picking me up from the main road," Bruce had the audacity to lie, because Tony was supposed to drop him off later in the evening. "There's a few cups of coffee left in the machine if you want it."

"Actually, I was just…" Steve nodded awkwardly at his bike.

"Yes, see, he's leaving," Tony said. "You both were, but somehow you're still right here—"

"Oh, speaking of Jen," Bruce interrupted, "she keeps bugging me for your number," Bruce told Steve, then grimaced. "In…not so child-friendly terms."

Tony bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from commenting on that delightful bit of information. He'd only met Jennifer once, but she was an absolutely stunning woman, not to mention could match even Steve's strength. If Steve took her up on that offer, they'd make one hell of a couple. She'd be lucky—Steve would be lucky to be with her, of course.

"Sorry." Steve gave a little half-smile. "Not interested in some one-time thing."

"Yeah, I thought so," Bruce said, then looked at the bouquet Tony was now clutching a little too forcefully. "Nice flowers, by the way. Red for undying love, right?"

"Oh, here we go again," Tony groaned.

"Uh," Steve said, his face steadily approaching the color of the flowers. "I just thought they…looked nice."

"I'm sure," Bruce said. "I assume they were out of flowers that said 'Tony, you idiot, there is no group outing, I was asking you out on a date'?"

"Oh my god, Bruce, get in the damn car and I'll drive you—wait, what?" Tony said, the words only now registering.

"Have fun!" Bruce said and—Tony could only describe it as fled—the scene.

And so Tony stood there on his porch like an idiot, with the offending tulips in his hand and a dolled-up, fidgeting and completely silent Steve in front of him.

"That's the last time I let Bruce into the cookie stash," Tony finally said.

That seemed to snap Steve out of his stupor. "Yeah, I…didn't expect that. At least not from Bruce."

"Sorry about him," Tony said. He held out the bouquet. "You should probably take these back, huh? With the 'undying love' and whatnot."

Tony tried for a grin. If he just didn't think about Bruce's words, he might survive this conversation with his dignity intact. Steve would laugh and sheepishly take the flowers and leave, and Tony could back inside and casually scream into a pillow. As you do.

But because Tony's life was never easy, Steve didn't accept the flowers. He just stared at them, then at Tony, then flushed all the way up to his ears and cleared his throat.

"No," Steve said, stubbornly keeping eye contact even though he was clearly dying inside. "No, I don't think I will."

"O-kaaay," Tony drawled, slowly withdrawing the bouquet. What the hell was up with Steve today?

"Unless…unless you're actually rejecting me," Steve soldiered on through his visible discomfort. "And I've been too dense to notice it all this time."

Tony opened his mouth to ask if Steve was having a stroke and promptly closed it. There was clearly something going on here that went deeper than Tony saying no to getting pizza or whatever with Steve, but like so many times before, they were just talking past each other.

"Steve," Tony said levelly. "Why are you really here?"

Steve stood up a little straighter even though he was still ugly blushing.

"Because I thought you were free and wanted to take you out to dinner," Steve said.

Tony squinted at him. "And you…dressed up and brought flowers—"

"Clearly should've picked the 'I'm asking you out on a date, you goddamn idiot' flowers instead," Steve huffed.

Tony blinked. He stared. He tried to process the earth-shattering discovery that Steve actually wanted to court him.

It didn't make sense. Tony had questions. He also still wanted to scream into that pillow. There was so much to talk about.

Of course, what came out of Tony's mouth was, "Language, Cap."

Steve's face did something funny at that: like his body couldn't decide whether to laugh or cringe. Smooth, Tony.

Eventually, Steve did burst out laughing, though it had a hysteric edge to it. Tony could relate wholeheartedly.

Tony cleared his throat and Steve stopped laughing. "What I meant was: hi, my name is Tony Stark, single dad missing an arm and owning the world's rudest alpaca," Tony rambled. "And you're Steve Rogers, literal human perfection, standing on my porch and expecting me to believe that you being here is anything more than pity."

"What?" Steve said. "C'mon, Tony, you can't really believe that. It's been over three years." Tony shrugged, and Steve's eyes went wide. "You mean…all this time you thought—"

"Yes? No? In my defense, I tried not to think about it at all, because I liked having you around and the idea of being your good deed of the day kinda put a damper on that."

"How…" Steve said, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You're wrong. I started helping you because you're my friend, and then I stuck around because…well, I liked being here."

"And now you want to go on a date. With me. Romantically," Tony clarified.

Steve nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" Tony asked.

"Why do people usually go on dates?" Steve shrugged. "I wanna be with you, and I really think we could be good together."

"But you're…this," Tony, again, gestured to all of Steve. "And I'm…" He glanced down at his workshop tee and grease-stained sweatpants; a far cry from the suits and booty jeans he'd worn in his prime. "Well, I definitely put the 'dad' in 'dad bod'."

Steve just kept looking at him. "And?"

"And you don't want someone like me!" Tony exclaimed. "I'm irresponsible and frankly terrible at relationships, always have been, and I miss being Iron Man and don't know what to do with myself the weeks Morgan's at Pep's." Steve didn't seem phased, so Tony took a shallow breath and quickly continued, "Sometimes I spy on Avengers meetings and cry, and my shoulder still hurts from the stones and the burn scars look hideous and I have nightmares from the wormhole and—and, oh, okay, we're kissing now—"

Steve, apparently done with Tony's pity party, took the liberty of cupping Tony's cheek and leaning in to kiss him. Which, all things considered, was probably the most effective way he'd ever managed to shut Tony up.

Tony's brain was too fried for him to do much more than stand there and let himself be kissed. To be fair, this was the most action he'd gotten in almost three years and he'd never realized how much he'd missed it. The kiss was little more than a soft press of their lips but the simple intimacy of it was enough to flood Tony's body with happy chemicals.

Eventually, he did manage to kiss back, but Steve still pulled away much too soon.

"Are you done?" Steve asked, and it really was quite persuasive when murmured against Tony's lips.

"...With the self-loathing or the kissing?" Tony asked. "Because I was kinda just getting started with the latter."

Steve chuckled and pressed their lips together again and, okay, wow, it really was that easy.

They were both much more confident this time. Steve kissed with meaning, Tony pulled him closer by his stupidly sexy leather jacket, Steve rubbed his thumb over Tony's five o' clock shadow and Tony tilted his head to make the slide of their lips easier. He might not have kissed anyone in years, but he could totally do this—it was like riding a bike, right? He just had to play it cool.

And then Steve lapped at the seam of his lips, and, really, how was Tony supposed to not clutch his jacket and let out a pathetic moan?

That was apparently the cue for Steve to break the kiss, but luckily he didn't look weirded out by Tony's desperation; in fact, he was blushing again and even panting a little, which was a pretty nice ego boost considering how much it took for Steve to get winded.

"Sorry, I, uh." Steve cleared his throat and took a step back and Tony bravely resisted his body's urge to scream no, no, no, come back! "I got a little too into that," Steve said.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Did it look like I was complaining?"

"Well, I still have some things I need to make clear," Steve said.

Oh, boy. Tony straightened his back and steeled himself for the good ol' "Tony, you're so great—except for those five hundred flaws of yours that mean we'll never work out" spiel.

Steve took a deep breath and started, "You're the bravest, most heroic man I've ever met and I'm sorry it took me over ten years to realize that."

Tony blinked. That was a weird start to friendzone someone.

"You have a brilliant mind but more than that, you have a big heart," Steve said. "You care so much about everyone around you, even if they hurt you—" 

Steve winced and Tony felt the phantom sensation of Siberian snow on his face and something heavy pressing down on the suit's arc reactor.

"When I came here three years ago, I expected you to scream in my face, and I wouldn't have blamed you," Steve said. "Instead, you helped me. You trusted me. You forgave me. And then you saved the world—again." Steve smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners; Tony had never noticed the wrinkles before. "And after, you let me be a part of your new life. You let me be a part of Morgan's. And, god, Tony the way you are with her… How could I not fall in love with you?"

Okay, well, that was just unfair. Tony had been just about ready to accept that Steve wasn't about to dump him before they'd even gotten started, but now he had to process the fact that Steve apparently loved him too. Despite all of the bright red, painfully obvious warning signs.

Maybe Happy was right. Maybe the right person wouldn't care.

"I can't even describe how much the last three years have meant to me. How much you mean to me," Steve said, his pretty blue eyes staring deep into Tony's. "And if you'll have me, I promise I'll do my damndest to make you happy."

Tony still wasn't quite sure if this was real. Maybe he was dreaming or Bruce's tea had a little extra something.

But hallucination or not, there was no reality where he'd ever be able to resist Steve Rogers spilling his heart and asking to date Tony.

"Okay," Tony said.

Steve blinked, then gave him a hesitant smile. "Really?"

"Well, my kid already loves you, and that's like 90% of my dating criteria these days," Tony said. "I also might have been planning on exploding the workshop roof on purpose so I could get you to come back before Friday, because not having you around freaks me out and five days is way too long."

Steve's smile widened and he stepped closer again. "I know the feeling. I barely managed two before I needed to see you."

Tony's heart did funny things at that and since Steve was already right there, Tony figured he might as well steal another kiss.

Steve made a happy little sigh when their lips met and Tony felt like an absolute idiot for not pulling on this thread sooner. There had just been too much at stake, with their rocky history and Tony's injuries and the divorce and Morgan—

Shit. What if Steve didn't understand how important Morgan was in all this?

"Full disclosure," Tony said, pulling away. "Morgan still has complete veto rights. She says no, this ends right away."

Rather than nod grimly like Tony expected, Steve smiled sheepishly. "Well, actually…I don't think Morgan's opinion will be a problem."

Tony stared. "Please say you didn't tell my kid you wanna bang me."

Steve took a moment to look at Tony like he was an idiot. "Your child," Steve started, "was the one who came up to me two weeks ago and said 'Daddy still doesn't know you love him. You should bring him flowers'."

Some kind of noise escaped Tony's throat; a quiet wheeze in the spirit of Holy shit my seven-year-old daughter tried to set me up with Captain America.

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, that was my reaction too."

"Why…what…how?" Tony managed.

"I've heard from multiple sources that I'm not as subtle with my feelings as I think I am," Steve said, then got a mischievous glint in his eye and added, "and Morgan's always been smarter than her old man, anyway."

Tony barked out a surprised laugh at the unexpected sass.

"Oh, really?" Tony said around a grin. "That's how it's gonna be with you, huh?"

Steve smirked. "Maybe."

"I can already tell you're going to be a menace," Tony teased. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I thought I was 'human perfection'."

Tony snorted a surprised—and extremely unattractive—laugh. Steve merely grinned, and, god, when was the last time anyone but Morgan had made Tony laugh like this?

"Well, mister Human Perfection," Tony said, brushing his hand against Steve's. "Still wanna have dinner with me? I've got cold coffee and leftover casserole."

Steve smiled and laced his fingers with Tony's. "Sounds like a plan."

That was when Steve pulled him close and kissed him again, and Tony decided he could definitely get used to this.

[wonderland-smile-stories]

~ Chapter 8 ~

I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes and how poorly written this fanfic is. English is not my first language and together with my dyslexia ass things can go wrong I'm sorry.

A groan left my lips while I tried to move. That douchebag did a really bad number on me. This would have been the end of me if I was just human, but luckily I wasn't. 

I mean was I lucky? 

Me not dying just means that he can do this over and over again. Which he does. I don't know how long I have been here. It could be days, but it also could be weeks or months. There aren't any windows here, so I don't know if a day has passed by or not. 

Every day seems to be the same at least I think it's a day. Some people come to get me and bring me to the same room I first woke up. Yes, there are other people here. Well, monsters. They are just like me. I guess they were left behind when the Military left this place. I don't know why they are working for Ui-myeong, but they seem to trust him and do what he asks. 

Ui-myeong finds a new way to torture me every single day. Or what he likes to call it experiments. Everything I went through in the orphanage was child play with whatever he did. I don't know why he wants to experiment, but I'm sure that it's payback for what I did to him in Green Homes.

Hell, I think he even tortured me because of what Hyun-su did to him. I heard him mutter it out sometimes under his breath, but I don't know what Hyun-su had done to him after the fight in Green Homes. 

Yes, I saw them fight here and in a car, but other than that I don't know. 

My hand went to my side where the wound Ui-myeong made last time was. I don't know why it wasn't healing. I think he shoved something in there and preventing me from healing. What am I even saying? My body hasn't been healing properly ever since I have been here. That's because every time Ui-myeong is done with me he injects something into my arm that makes me weak and groggy. 

I think it weakens my monster side. I haven't heard my monster in a while. I know he's still there, but it's like whatever they injected me with is pushing her away. I can feel her in the back of my mind trying to claw her way out. 

The door opens making the dark room light up with some light. I watch as the figure comes inside before kneeling in front of me. A tray of what looked like food was placed in front of me with a cup of water. My eyes went up seeing a girl looking down at me. 

"Are you guys trying to poison me now? Did he run out of ideas to torture me? Oh, I'm sorry I mean experiment?" I groan pushing myself up against the wall. 

The girl watched me with narrow eyes. 

"It's just food. You probably haven't eaten anything in a week or two." 

A week or two huh? It felt longer, but I guess they are only going to feed me every two weeks to keep me weak. 

"Why would he want me to eat? Doesn't he want me dead?" 

The girl shook her head. 

"No. No, I don't think so. He wants to help you." 

I let out a laugh shaking my head. 

"Help? This isn't helping. I don't know where you come from, but this is torture." I explained looking the girl up and down. 

"I have to admit he's going extreme on you, but it's just that we haven't seen a strong monster like you. Let alone a monster that hasn't fully turned yet? Aren't you curious?" 

What is she even talking about? The moment I turn is the moment I'm gone. There is no coming back if you turn in a monster. We got lucky with Hyun-su because he wasn't fully gone. But maybe she knew something I didn't. I mean I saw Miss Im back at Green Homes and supposedly she had turned into a monster. 

"I'm not curious and I'm not hungry, so you can take this with you." 

The girl stayed silent for a second looking at me, before speaking up again. 

"Why do you do it?" 

A confused look came on my face. 

"What?" 

"Why do you help humans? They have only caused us pain." 

I rolled my eyes before stretching my legs because they were cramping up from sitting on them. 

"You sound just like Ui-moong," I grunt out putting my head against the wall trying to catch my breath. 

"He told me that you protected them, almost died for them? Even after everything they had put you through, even used you." 

I chuckle closing my eyes. 

"Yes, I deed. And they didn't put me through anything or use me." I explained taking another deep breath. 

"They did use my...friend. I have to admit I wasn't a fan of that. I even stood up for him and tried to help as much as I could, but in the end, it was for survival for all of us even for my friend." I opened my eyes and saw the girl still looking at me. 

"Whatever Ui-myeong told you is the halve of the truth. He wasn't there and when he was there a lot of good and innocent people died. I protected them because they were my friends and family. They would do the same for me, even if I was a monster." 

The girl looked down before speaking back up. 

"My parents put me here. For them, I wasn't their daughter anymore. Their daughter died the moment I got that nosebleed." 

I had to admit that I was feeling bad for her. She looked maybe a couple of years younger than me. And whatever happened to her here she didn't deserve that. 

"I'm sorry. Even before this all started I figured out that people can be monsters as well. The line between what makes you a monster and a human is thin. But just like some monsters, some humans are good as well." 

I wanted to say more when two other people came inside. 

"It's time." One of them said. 

I wanted to fight them, but that would only end in me getting a beating. Besides, I'm still too weak to even stand on my feet. Taking each arm they began to drag me away leaving the girl behind. 

I'm still confused as to why Ui-myeong was doing this. The girl said that he wanted to help me, but it honestly felt like he was getting revenge on me. Ui-myeong was a twisted person, so who knows what he really was planning on doing. 

When we came back to the, what I call the 'torture room' I saw that they had moved the table. To my surprise, they tied my wrists together before putting them over a hook. I felt myself being lifted off the ground. 

This can't be good. At least it's something new. After a few minutes of hanging there, Ui-myeong walked into the room. 

"How are we feeling today, Mi-na?" I let out a sigh before answering. 

"Peachy, just peachy." 

Ui-myeong chuckled before mentioning the other two to get out of the room. The words of the girl ran through my head and I had to admit I was curious, but I also knew that even if I asked him what his plan was he wouldn't tell me the truth. 

"You know it won't work right?" 

Ui-myeong turned to me confused. 

"What won't work?" 

I licked my dry lips before saying. 

"Turning me. It won't work." 

Ui-myeong looked amused before he took a couple of steps towards me.

"Why is that?" 

"Because you dumb ass. You have been pumping me full of what I can only guess are tranquilizers and you have been subduing my monster side, so your plan to turn me won't work." 

He chuckled shaking his head. 

"Turning you isn't my priority. I mean it would be a bonus and maybe in the end if you survive you will turn, but for now, that's not my plan." 

"Then what is your plan." He smiled before saying. 

"There are three reasons why I'm doing this. One, I want to see what makes you so special. You were showing symptoms way before any of this started. Hyun-su told me how you held off the temptation of your monster so well. Like you didn't even need to try to stop it. I want to know how you get stronger with time and I want to know how far your powers go!" 

Powers? 

I don't see the things I do as powers. 

I don't know why I'm different than the others, but so is Hyun-su and even Ui-myeong himself is different than the other monsters, so why am I so special? 

"You are powerful and you don't even know it." He whispers walking incredibly close to me. 

Blinking a few times I tried to not look away from him before asking. 

"What's the second reason?" 

A smile came on his face before saying. 

"I want your body." 

Without even thinking about it a look of disgust washed over my face. 

"Those words should not come out of your mouth seeing that I'm nineteen and you're like what sixty." For a sec I thought I struck a nerve when his one eye twitched, but he quickly went back to his normally cocky one. 

"Even though you're in the body of a thirty-something year old it's still creepy and wrong," I added, still being disgusted by him. 

"I don't mean it like that. I want, no need a stronger body. This one was just an emergency one. It doesn't give me anything but trouble. So after I'm done testing you and have seen what you're fully capable of I want to have your body. Your powers are useful to me." 

I can only imagine what he would do to people if he had it. 

I can't let him have it. 

"Sorry, but I don't plan on dying anytime soon. Besides those two reasons, what's the third one?" I asked wanting to be done with this. 

Cupping both my cheeks so I couldn't look away. His smile grew bigger than before saying. 

"Revenge. You and Hyun-su have been a pain in my ass since I met you two. I offered you both another way of living and what do you two do? You both stab me in the back! I already dealt with your boyfriend, so now it's your turn." 

"What do you mean with dealt with?! What did you do?" Ui-myeong scanned my face confused before letting go of my cheeks. 

"You don't know? I thought you saw us fight?" 

I shook my head. 

"I saw you two fight for a few seconds, but that was it! What did you do!"

The same stupid cocky smile appeared on his face again. 

"He's dead. I killed him." 

No. 

I don't believe that. 

Hyun-su isn't dead. 

I honestly wanted to laugh at him. 

"What? You don't believe me?" 

I shook my head. 

"You? You killed him?" This time I did laugh. 

I don't know why. Maybe it's because they have injected me with stuff all this time or maybe the torture has finally made me snap, but I just laughed at him. 

"The last time I saw you fight him he killed you. You ended in some black goop in seconds and you want to tell me you killed him?" He narrowed his eyes not saying anything. 

I could see the gears working full-time while he looked at me. It was like he was trying to figure things out. 

"If you don't believe me why don't you look for it." I honestly wanted to pull my head out of his hands, but he had a too-strong grip on it. 

"How could I look for it? I'm hanging in the air! Besides it happened in the past! How should I be able to see it?! Did you record it somehow?" I asked annoyed by his lies and this whole thing. 

Again he scanned my face like he was trying to read my mind. 

"You can see it. Just concentrate." 

I let out a groan of frustration before lifting my leg to kick him, but because I was so weak he easily caught it with one hand. 

"Listen here you fucking asshole I'm so done with you and all of this! If you want to tell me something just say it! I'm halve sedated because of your stupid drug, I haven't eaten a thing for two whole weeks let alone had something to drink! You have been torturing me every second you could and you want me to concentrate on something I don't even know! So for fuck sake just say what I have to do!" That little outburst left me dizzy and tired, but he was making me so mad. 

I was sick of his games and just wanted this to end. A little chuckle left his lips before his other hand came back to my cheek. 

"As you wish. Concentrate on me. Try to look inside my head." 

"Wha-" I started, but he gave me a small slap on my cheek shutting me up. 

I didn't know what to do or what he meant with look inside his head. 

"Look inside my head." He slowly said. 

I was honestly debating to just fake something so that this could be done and he could just start torturing me again. This was so ridiculous that I was wondering if he truly had lost his mind. I mean more than before. I was about to open my mouth to say something random when I felt his hand put more pressure on my cheek. 

The moment he put more pressure on my skin flashes began to appear in my head. 

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter

———————————————————

[babyitsbeautiful]

Life Update for 2023. (It's a long one.)

For those that follow me on other social media platforms, you already know what's been happening and I appreciate the love and support.

For those that don't, I feel like this is long overdue. Especially to my 'crash through the surface' readers. I promise I will give you the ending you deserve.

To start, this has been a hell of a year. So many unexpected things have happened in such a short time frame that it's hard to convey just how crazy it's truly been.

I gained a new sister with whom my father had out of an affair before he died 23 years ago, although she is wonderful in every way, so I guess I can thank him for at least giving me another beautiful sister.

We met at the beginning of the year and have stayed close ever since. It's like we've known each other forever. The first half of the year was very exciting for me. I had a new sister, got to do so many fun things and work the Vampire Diaries/Originals convention for Creation Entertainment. Truly an amazing few months. I was so excited to find out how the rest of the year would go. I was even in the mood to start writing again.

But then the unimaginable happened. My 8 year old blue heeler, Lucy, had what we thought was a benign fatty lipoma (she had all the signs) removed at the beginning of July that turned out to be a high grade mast cell tumor that was basically untreatable and irreversibly fatal.

Ironically, we got the news two weeks after her surgery, on the 23 anniversary of my dad's death... from cancer. I was completely devasted. I could tell immediately that her vet did not want to give me that news. I asked every question I could think of and was told there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, nor would Chemo even work at that point, it was already too far progressed. He told me to ignore the estimated remaining life span noted in her test results (less than 4 months) and to just love and spoil her everyday. I told him I already do that, but I did go the extra mile for her anyway.

We had a good rest of the summer, all the way through September she showed no signs, other than the metastatic growth of the cancer cells in the same area on her belly, forming twice as worse than before. But she didn't mind, and just continued to live her best life.

I told her that she would get to see her Uncle soon, my younger brother, when he came to town for our new sister's wedding at the end of September (he walked her down the aisle, hella cute btw.) She loves loves loves her uncle, and was beyond excited to see him.

And I swear to you she stayed as strong as she could just to be able to see him one last time because on the day he left, her tumors ruptured and her health started to rapidly decline. I did all that I could for the month of October to keep her here with me. We bandaged her up so the bleeding would stop, she got medication from the vet, but there was only so much that could be done. She stayed so strong though, I could tell she was a fighter, still with a smile on her face.

But in that last week, when the medication no longer worked and she lost that smile and had that look on her face, a look of intense pain and just all around defeat, I knew she needed me to carry her strength.

She silently told me that she was ready and I made the call that changed my life forever. So on October 25th, we said our goodbyes and she fell asleep in my arms before waking up on the other side of the rainbow bridge where there was no more pain or fear.

She was my entire world and I, hers.

It's been a month now, and it still hurts every day, but every day is a little better than the last. The second half of the year has really changed me in so many ways. My life is so different now, because my entire life revolved around taking care of her. And I wouldn't have changed it for anything. Lucy was never a people person kind of dog, she did not like strangers or other animals. So if I wasn't working, I was at home with her. The times I had a social life or travelled were rare and far between.

But she's gone now and my life belongs to just me again. It's a strange feeling really, not having that kind of dependency anymore, but I revel in it at times.

I've travelled more in the last month than I have in years as keeping myself busy and away from an empty apartment helps. I will be going to New York for the first time this New Year's Eve, which is amazing and so exciting.

I confess that at first I felt the guilt of being able to do fun things at her expense of being gone. But her being gone was not anyone's choice, it was just something that neither of us could control and I had to end her pain when it was still beginning rather than have her suffer more than she already was. I know that. I would just rather have her with me for a few more years than be able to do fun things. She was my fun thing. ♥

With all that being said, I am at a very different stage in my life now that involves me getting back into the things that make me happy, which is writing.

I never intended to go this long without updating this story, but then life, like the one I've lived this year, happens and certain things just take precedent over other things.

I will be getting back into 'crash through the surface' very soon. I've thought about it more in the last few weeks than in a long time. So to my readers both (potentially) new and old, thank you thank thank you for the love on what we have so far. The story is far from over.

Also a huge thank you to everyone who has me on Facebook and Instagram and keeps up with my craziness, I truly adore all of you.

And if you don't but want to: @hollyelizabeth3

[awaitingfall]

07.11.24

134.4

I felt drawn to post on here again and funnily enough it’s almost a year exactly from the last time I posted.

Since then I ended up going back to my old job and that’s helped me be a lot more physical than I was previously since I’m working in 90+ degree temps and on my feet for 9 hours every day, rather than sitting in a freezing cold, brightly lit lab all day with barely any movement at all. It was so cold in there that it actually got uncomfortable and I was constantly shivering. I never thought I’d prefer working in the complete opposite environment, but I think it’s healthier for the body to be warmer than freezing cold all day.

I’ve started intermittent fasting again recently. Eating 8 hours, fasting 16. So breakfast is usually around 7:30 and then I eat my final meal at work around 3:30. And if I have energy when I get home around 6:30 I’ll do a quick workout, otherwise I save the exercise for the Friday and the weekend when I have off.

I’ve also been eating cleaner - gotten back to my Greek yogurt for lunch and dinner, but this time I put raw honey in it as well as some trail mix (I buy one that just has a bunch of plain nuts, seeds, raisins and goji berries). And my breakfast is heartier to give me enough energy for at least the first half of the day - so I’ll have some variation of eggs and toast. It’s usually 2 slices of sourdough toast, 2 eggs over medium, salt, pepper, garlic powder, feta cheese, and more recently I’ve tried slicing up some avocado on top for some healthy fats and it’s been delicious (I thought I was allergic to avocado for the longest time, but turns out I had just eaten a bad one one time and it gave me stomach pains). I’ll also have a side of kimchi with that for my tummy cuz I’ve been experiencing really bad randomly occurring stomach problems since the last time I posted 🥺

And finally, within this past week, I’ve been listening to a podcast on Buddhism (as a way of life, not religion), and it has helped me see things so differently in the best way possible and I feel like I’m a lot calmer and have been reacting to things with less negative emotion. I was getting myself so stressed out, not just about things in my life, but even things in other peoples lives that had nothing to do with me. And stress will 10000000% prevent you from losing weight. Plus I’ve been getting a lot more anxious again because I was focusing my attention on everyone else’s problems. So I’m finding that a little meditation and focus no myself and what truly matters is helping me a lot physically and mentally so far.

So that’s what’s been going on - now to set my goal!

In a perfect world, I’d LOVE to be 115 by my birthday. That’s prime Fall time baby! But realistically, if I want to lose weight in a healthy way, I’d at least like to be around 125 by then. I’ve already lost 5lbs in a month, but I have to factor in the plateau that’ll most likely happen at some point and also factor in the birthdays and celebrations that I won’t be following a fasting schedule for, because I don’t need to be so strict on myself - I’d also like to enjoy life while celebrating with others and won’t put myself down for doing so.

I’d also like to be healthier by then because I’m 99.9% sure my boyfriend it going to propose to me around that time and I want to be able to feel good physically and mentally to enjoy that experience rather than be feeling sluggish and moody like I have been after not being health conscious.

(I’m also going to rename this account because I don’t want it to be seen as an e d account, I’d like it to be a health conscious account since I’ve grown out of those old habits, thankfully)

[hellishvxbes]

I feel bad because I haven't really done much here. I don't really like using my health as an excuse but its genuinely what it is. I'm exhausted all the time. This steroid medication is the worst and its going on 8 whole month's I've been taking it. I've gained a ton of weight, like it doesn't feel normal. my body aches all the time. I feel like I'm pregnant. none of my clothes fit me anymore which only leads to more of my inner self loathing which I hate because after my last relationship i really worked hard to build myself up. And it felts like every time I think I'm getting better SOMETHING happens. and I try so hard to not let it get to me.

It took me years to stop being in denial about diabetes. i almost had to die before I started to accept that this was my life. and ive been proud and worked very hard to get where I am with it. not I feel like I'm failing again cuz the steroids work against them. my A1C went up, and i'm just so disappointed by it. I've been having some manner of fatigue about taking my meds. which i usually dont but i find myself taking them later and later in the day. Sunday, I opted to not take the steroid and with only ONE day it made me feel horribly sick. this blood disorder really is the worst. the fact that i cant go one day without it or it'll really make me sick just annoys the crap out of me. I hate it. i hate not having control on it. also when i talked to my therapist she talks about how trauma has a lot to do with your health and how it effects your body. and when I think back to all the trauma i've experienced within the last 6 years? it makes sense the way my body is just trying to kill me. because what are the odds I get a rare blood disease like really.

and I hate talking about it because I feel like such a burden. when people ask me how i'm doing and i say okay because if I tell them its day three and I still feel like shit like ppl get tired eventually. i always have to act like i'm good at home anyway because otherwise I'll hear my mom say 'oh its always something with you' like i asked for this shit.

I guess my point is, I really wanna be more active but I put all my energy into work because its such a complicated job, and if I slack off even a little its a pain in the ass to get caught back up and so its always frustrating when I have to take off and i come back to a mess despite me leaving it perfect for the person who is backing me up. they wont pay me FMLA, and I have to take off at least one day a week to make appointments for this illness. i technically work the full 80 hours but on the days i work 12s i cant take a lunch, i have to get up earlier. and its already draining for me. so by the time I get off work, I don't even wanna transition to my laptop. but I love being here and i have so much fun so i try my best. lately tho, I look at my drafts and I have so much muse but no energy at all. i promise i am working on it. I really just ask for patience. being in this fandom has been the most fun i've had on tumblr in a very long time.

my hope with this new medication I am getting, they will start to tamper me off the steroids, and my energy will start to come back as the dose goes down. my fingers are crossed honestly.