#but now that she's awake she needs the nutrition back ya know?

[happily-wretched]

Made with love

Okayyy… maybe I went a little overboard with the.. sexual parts of this.

This is a VERY kinky and NSFW story, like, a bit too much. But I can’t bring myself to make it any shorter. So, here’s an interesting first hunger kink story. Honestly, you’re going to need a shower after this lmao.

Weirdly this one had an inspiration..; I was listening to the album “Her Loss” by 21 Savage and Drake back in 2023, and vividly remember hearing “She said she hungry, I gave her dick for brunch” or something like that. Yeah I know it’s close to 2025 (or is already) but I didn’t write something about it until now. Also, instead of it being a she, it’s gonna be a he. To explain why that’s important, here’s a short summary:

Mark and Vincent are an engaged couple (they may appear a few times in my stories), and one morning, Mark wakes up starving. Obviously in discomfort, Vincent notices, and wishes to satisfy his lover. However, a very horny thought comes to his mind, no doubt stirred by how Mark was dealing with his hunger. Mark was hungry, so why doesn’t he have a nice, juicy, sausage for breakfast?

Caution, this includes: Hunger (is satiated), brief pain from hunger, arousal by hunger, blowjobs, homosexuality (if that even counts as warning), sexual penetration, swear words, detailed semen description, brief false satiation of nutrition, just so much sex lol

Mark groaned in discomfort as he slowly stirred awake, his stomach letting out a loud growl that echoed through the room. Vincent, lying next to him, immediately perked up at the sound, shooting a concerned glance at his boyfriend. "Babe, you okay?" he asked softly, noticing how Mark's face was pinched in pain. 

Mark let out another loud groan, his stomach growling fiercely in need of sustenance. "I'm starving," he whined, rubbing his growling belly. "I need food, now."

Vincent's eyes widened at the desperation in Mark's voice, a strange thrill of arousal shooting through his body at the knowledge of how hungry his boyfriend was. He loved seeing Mark like this, so needy and desperate that he would do anything for a bite to eat. It was such a turn on, watching him squirm and writhe in pain, his stomach gurgling loudly with each passing second.

An idea suddenly popped into Vincent's mind, making his cock twitch with excitement. Mark was so hungry, starved for something delicious to fill his aching belly. But what if Vincent gave him something else to eat instead? Something warm and thick and utterly delectable?

Vincent smirked to himself, palming his hardening cock through the sheets. "Hungry, are ya?" he purred, his voice dripping with seduction. "Well, I might have something real tasty for you to munch on."

Mark blinked up at him in confusion, his stomach growling loudly. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, voice hoarse from sleep.

Vincent chuckled darkly, slowly pulling back the sheets to reveal their naked bodies to the cool morning air. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, baby," he cooed, wrapping a hand around his thick cock and giving it a few teasing strokes. "I've got the perfect breakfast for you right here."

Mark's eyes widened as he caught sight of Vincent's erection, mouth watering at the sight. "You want me to...suck you off?" he asked, voice trembling with a mix of hunger and arousal.

"Mmhm," Vincent hummed, giving his cock a little wave. "C'mon, babe. You know you want to. Just imagine how good my cock would feel sliding down your throat, all thick and hard and delicious. Bet that growling belly of yours would love it."

Mark let out a shaky moan, his stomach growling ferociously at the thought. Fuck, he was so hungry, so desperate for anything to fill the aching void inside him. And Vincent's cock looked so good, so tantalizing and mouthwatering. Maybe this was exactly what he needed, a taste of something warm and musky to sate his appetite.

Throwing caution to the wind, Mark pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, crawling towards Vincent with a hungry gleam in his eyes. "Fuck, yes," he growled, wasting no time in wrapping his lips around the head of Vincent's cock. "Gonna eat you up."

Vincent groaned at the sensation, fisting his hands in Mark's hair as his boyfriend began to bob up and down his length. "That's it, baby," he purred, hips rocking gently to meet Mark's movements. "Take it all in. Fuck, your mouth feels so good."

Mark moaned around Vincent's cock, sending delicious vibrations through his shaft. His stomach growled loudly as he sucked, the sound echoing obscenely through the room. It was so hungry, so desperate to be filled with something hot and thick. And Vincent's cock was more than happy to oblige.

Mark took him deeper, nose brushing against Vincent's musky pubes as he swallowed him down to the root. His throat worked around the thick intrusion, muscles rippling and squeezing. Vincent cried out at the sensation, hands tightening in Mark's hair as he struggled not to cum right then and there.

But it was too much, the knowledge that he was feeding his aching boyfriend with his cock too arousing to ignore. With a broken moan, Vincent thrust into Mark's mouth one last time before spilling his release down his throat.

Mark groaned at the taste, gulping down Vincent's thick load with eager swallows. His stomach gurgled loudly as the hot liquid filled his belly, but it was far from sated. It needed more, craved more of that delicious cum to fill the aching void.

Mark pulled off of Vincent's cock with a wet pop, tongue lapping at the sensitive tip to catch any remaining drops. "More," he growled, voice hoarse from the fucking. "I need more."

Vincent panted heavily above him, cock still hard and throbbing with need. "Fuck, Mark," he purred, rolling his hips against his boyfriend's cheek. "You're insatiable. What am I gonna do with you?"

Mark nipped at his thigh in response, stomach growling hungrily. "Feed me," he demanded, voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm fucking starving, Vincent. You promised me breakfast."

Vincent laughed at that, the sound dark and seductive. "Oh, I know, baby. And I always keep my promises." He rolled out of bed, cock bobbing obscenely with each movement. "C'mon. Let's get you something to eat."

Mark scrambled after him, stomach growling loudly with each step. They made their way to the kitchen, both still very much naked and aroused. Vincent pulled out a frying pan, cracking in a few eggs as he hummed to himself. 

Mark watched him with hungry eyes, stomach gurgling in anticipation. "Can I help?" he asked, voice trembling with need.

Vincent glanced at him over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I think you can do more than that, babe. Why don't you come over here and give me a little...encouragement?"

Mark didn't need to be told twice. He pressed himself against Vincent's back, hard cock slotting perfectly between the cleft of his boyfriend's ass. "Mm, yeah," he groaned, rolling his hips in a slow, filthy grind. "Gonna fuck you while you cook for me. Make sure you don't burn our breakfast."

Vincent gasped at the sensation, cock twitching against the pan as Mark's length slid between his cheeks. "Fuck, yes," he panted, hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly. "Just like that, baby. Wanna feel you splitting me open while I make you the perfect meal."

Mark groaned, biting down on Vincent's shoulder as he thrust forward. The wet, obscene sound of skin on skin filled the kitchen, mingling with the sizzle of eggs in the pan. Vincent moaned and writhed beneath him, hips pushing back against Mark's intrusion.

They fucked like that for a while, Mark pounding into Vincent's willing body as he cooked their breakfast. The kitchen was filled with the sounds of their passion, moans and grunts and the lewd slap of flesh on flesh. Mark's stomach growled the entire time, desperate for something to fill it, but he ignored it for now. This was better, fucking his boyfriend in the kitchen like a pair of animals in heat.

But eventually, even Mark's stamina had to give out. With a final, brutal thrust, he spilled his release deep inside Vincent's ass, painting his walls with thick, hot cum. Vincent cried out at the sensation, body shuddering as he came untouched in the pan, splattering the eggs with his release.

Mark collapsed against his boyfriend's back, both of them panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. "Fuck," Vincent panted, turning off the stove with shaking hands. "That was...fuck, Mark."

Mark just groaned in response, still buried deep inside Vincent's ass. His stomach gurgled loudly, reminding him of its hunger. "Food," he mumbled, nuzzling into Vincent's neck. "Need food."

Vincent chuckled breathlessly, reaching back to pat Mark's hip. "Right, right. I got it, babe." He carefully extricated himself from Mark's embrace, hissing as Mark's cock slipped free of his hole. "Just...just give me a minute. Gonna make us the perfect breakfast."

Mark watched him with hungry eyes, stomach growling ferociously. "Can't wait," he rumbled, eyes zeroed in on Vincent's ass. "Gonna eat you up, just like I promised."

Vincent just smirked over his shoulder, the sight making Mark's cock twitch with renewed interest. "Oh, I'm counting on it, baby. Now be a good boy and let me cook for you."

Mark pouted at that, but he knew better than to argue. He was too hungry, too desperate for something to fill his aching belly. So he settled back against the counter, watching Vincent with dark, possessive eyes as he worked. His stomach growled the entire time, demanding to be sated, but Mark ignored it for now. This was better, watching his boyfriend work to make him the perfect meal.

And when Vincent finally turned around with two plates of fluffy pancakes with eggs on the side, Mark nearly drooled at the sight. "Fuck, those look amazing," he growled, stomach growling in agreement. 

Vincent just smirked, setting the plates down on the table. "Dig in, baby. I made them special, just for you."

Mark didn't need to be told twice. He pounced on the meal like a starving animal, shoveling them into his mouth with desperate, sloppy bites. His stomach gurgled loudly as he ate, the sound echoing ominously through the kitchen.

Vincent watched him with a hungry gaze, palming his cock as he imagined Mark eating something else entirely. "That's it, baby," he purred, voice dripping with seduction. "Eat up. Gotta keep your strength up for round three."

Mark just groaned in response, mouth too full to answer. He was too focused on stuffing his face, on finally sating the hunger that had been gnawing at him all morning. His belly gurgled and groaned as he ate, but the sound was more satisfied now, pleased by the delicious food finally filling it up.

It wasn't long before Mark's plate was clean, not a single crumb left behind. He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh, patting his now full stomach. "Fuck, that was good," he mumbled, voice thick and sated. 

Vincent just smirked at him, eyes dark with promise. "Glad you liked it, babe. Though I bet you're still hungry for something else, aren't you?"

Mark's eyes zeroed in on Vincent's cock, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Always," he growled, voice low and needy. "You know that, Vincent. I'm never full where you're concerned."

Vincent groaned at that, taking himself in hand and giving a slow, teasing stroke. "Good to know, baby. Now why don't you come over here and show me just how hungry you are?"

Mark was on him in an instant, crawling across the table with a predatory grace. "Fuck, yes," he snarled, mouth watering at the sight of Vincent's cock. "Gonna eat you up, just like I promised. Fuck, I can't wait to taste you again."

Vincent shuddered at the heat in Mark's voice, at the sheer, unbridled hunger in his eyes. "Dammit, Mark," he panted, hands fisting in his hair as Mark descended upon him. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that? Fucking insatiable little bottom."

Mark just nipped at his thigh again in response, tongue hot and wet against Vincent's skin. "You love it," he rumbled, voice muffled by Vincent's flesh. "Love how desperate I am for you, how hungry I am to be filled by your cock."

Vincent moaned brokenly, hips rocking up to meet Mark's mouth. "Shit, I do," he panted, voice strained with pleasure. "Love seeing you like this, so fucking hungry for me. Could never get enough, could you?"

Mark shook his head in response, lips wrapping around the head of Vincent's cock in answer. He sucked him in deep, nose brushing against Vincent's musky pubes once again as he swallowed him down. 

And with that, Mark swallowed him down once more, moaning around the thick intrusion as he began to suck in earnest.

They made love like that for the rest of the morning, lost in a haze of pleasure and hunger and desperate, filthy need. Mark was far too lost in the taste of his boyfriend's flesh, too hungry for the hot, thick load that he knew would finally sate his other hungers.

And sate him it did, Vincent's release flooding his belly and making his stomach rumble with the confusing liquid added to his breakfast. Mark pulled off with a wet pop, tongue lapping lazily at Vincent's softening cock. "Fuck," he mumbled, voice hoarse from the fucking. "That was...fuck, Vincent."

Vincent panted heavily above him, hands roaming over Mark's skin with reverent possessiveness. "You're fucking amazing," he purred, tugging Mark up into a sloppy, cum-flavored kiss. "Love how hungry you are for me, love how desperate you get. Could never get enough of you, baby."

Mark hummed into the kiss, hands roaming over Vincent's skin with greedy possessiveness. "Never enough," he agreed, voice low and sated. "Always want more, always hungry for you. You're the only thing that can satisfy me, the only thing that makes my stomach stop growling."

Vincent chuckled at that, nipping playfully at Mark's bottom lip. "Good to know," he purred, voice dripping with seduction. "Means I'll always have to keep you fed, keep that delicious belly of yours full and happy."

Mark moaned at the promise, cock twitching against Vincent's thigh. "Fuck, yes," he growled, rolling his hips against his boyfriend's in a slow, filthy grind. "Keep me full, keep me hungry for you. Wanna be your perfect little bottom, always ready and willing to eat you up."

Yeah that was very self indulgent, I will not lie

[totentnz]

remember the ancient elf au i posted about a few weeks ago? well the marble rolling around in my head hit a corner and i got an idea

[twofootedbones]

Rose Colored Shades

Summary: There was once a moment where Latula knew who Cronus was, but when you’re wearing rose colored glasses, every flag is just a flag. 

A look through Latula’s eyes and her view of was had happened between her, Cronus, and Mituna that made them break farther apart than she would have ever liked. 

 You know those stories, those ones where they always start with the “just us three against the world?” Well that’s how this one starts. It was just me and my boys, my two goofballs that I loved with my whole bloodpusher. My matesprit Mituna Captor and my considering morail Cronus Ampora. The days we spent together were always perfect, it didn’t matter if we got a skate trick wrong, got chased away for loitering, or just couldn’t get past this one level in some dumb video game we picked up from the discount bin. We were the perfect Kingdom Bloodpushers trio! One epic heroine and her two boy sidekicks. 

Then we started the game. Me and ‘Tuna saw it as the perfect challenge and we dragged poor ol’ Cro along with us. It didn’t take long for a lot of things to go sour though. Everyone started screaming and punching, pretty sure half of the screaming was Kankri’s fault but it was chaos nonetheless. We all went from one radical kickass group into a clusterfuck of horrible words and totally not rad violence. No one listened to each other and everyone tried to be the leader. Many of us actually broke away from the group to do things our own way. Blame is on teenage angst.

  Then it happened. I wasn’t around to see it and I beat myself up about it every single day. The only one to see it was that stupid mime and he barely showed an ounce of pitty in those cursed eyes. Just bringing the body to us, plopping him on the ground, and walking away like he didn’t just deliver us the most horrific thing we had ever seen. No one knew how to act at this point, we stood there just staring at him. The Tuna I once knew was gone, none of us knew how to help him, he laid there on the ground just shaking and crying. He was covered in his own 

The cursor flashed on the screen, waiting for the next words to be written. Latula leaned back in her desk chair, wiping the sudden tears away from her face ultimately ruining the minimal mascara she had put on just hours before. This was going to take a while. She didn’t know why she was trying to write something like this, Aranea claimed that writing gave “feels closure” whatever that meant. Just a few feet away sat lil Mituna. Well he wasn’t that little as he towered over her by a solid foot, but he was her little honey bee. He was starfishing in the bean bag chair as he idly chewed on a necklace he found somewhere in his hive. His hair was held out of his face by one of Latula’s scrunchies and he sat in just a pair of gym shorts, the fern leaf-like scars that danced across his body being revealed. He hated it when the others saw them, she was the only exception. She was allowed to gaze upon and touch the flowing scars. It was as if his veins had been dyed faint shades of red and blue. 

He had yet to notice her eyes on him and continued to just stare off at the wall, not even paying mind to the show that was playing on the TV. Latula took a deep breath and turned back to the document.The same blinking cursor ready for her to continue.

When he woke up he wasn’t the same, or so I was convinced. When his eyes finally opened, they weren’t the same red and blue slushie color I was so used to seeing. They were completely void of his colors, a black and white that he carried with him to the dream bubbles. He was afraid and confused and he didn’t recognize any of us. He tried to run from all of us whenever he was awake, but all he gained from that was agitating all the harsh electrical burns he had. I was starting to grow sick of yellow being smeared all over the room. The day ‘Tuna first woke was the same day I saw Cronus Ampora genuinely cry for the last time. He stopped coming to visit Mituna shortly after, claiming that everything that came out of his mouth was wrong even though all that really came out was screams of fear. The last time he visited he lashed out at him, it wasn’t much just a shout of the words “shut up” before he ran out of the room. I was willing to push that aside back then, I was at my wits end too. We thought that my matesprit and his best friend was gone. We both believed that our trio was soon going to be a duo. Cronus couldn’t bear to see his friend like this anymore, leaving me alone to take care of him. 

It didn’t take long for Tuna to start using words again. Guaranteed they were in the wrong order, but they were words. He stopped screaming at everyone and he stopped trying to run away from all of us. But he would still pick at his scabs and burns.

 One day he asked me what my name was for the ten-thousandth time. Except instead of repeating it back to me or forgetting it immediately, this dork said and I quote: “That’s pretty, like you!” 

At that moment I swear I was falling in love with him twice over. Every time I would come into the block we kept him in he would call me pretty. He eventually started calling me by my name, but for months he would always ask for me by calling me “the pretty lady” 

Not even a sweep passed before we were all done for. Our game failed and now here we are living forever in the dream bubbles. Totally not a rad ending I kn

A crash interrupted her typing, she quickly turned around only to see that Mituna was no longer in the block with her. “Tuna?” she called out. A faint mumble came before she heard the boy in question reply from the nutrition block. “I DIDN’T BREAK ANYTHING,” was all he screamed. Latula had long gotten used to his lack of volume control. “It was plas- pl- not glass!” he followed in a completely different tone. “Are you sure you don’t need help bee?” she got up out of her chair and started walking towards the block. Standing in the center of a tupperware war-zone stood Mituna Captor and his perfectly poured cup of orange juice. “Hi,” he said with the largest smile plastered onto his face. Latula’s smile came slowly before she was just flat out wheezing at the scene before her, Mituna joined his cackling laugh mixing with hers. The Captor stopped to take a sip of the juice before kicking around at the tupperware. They couldn’t have anything glass in the hive because of this and the glass they do have is hidden in the lowest cabinets where this gentle giant doesn’t think to look. 

“What happened?” 

Mituna pointed up towards the cabinet. “I put the-them away lasst,” he admitted. The boy’s version of putting away the dishes is to stack up a disaster that will ultimately topple over the second someone would open the door. He put his cup down on the counter and started to clean up the mess. Latula joined him. This wasn’t anything really that new, he would always set up the dishes this way in Cronus’ hive whenever they would visit, just to watch the seadweller open the door to be pelted by this psionic’s genius pranks. Now it’s become a normal schedule to never open the cabinet door fully. Kankri has told them that Cronus still does that as a habit, having to watch the seadweller cringe before opening anything every time he goes over there to lecture him. Meenah has even just told Cronus to remove the door if he’s going to keep complaining about it

After fixing the nutrition block back up and settling Tuna back into his spot, this time with juice and a movie he would actually kind of focus on, Latula returned to her husktop, spamming the space bar to wake it back up. 

Ya know, when you look at the world through rose colored glasses, all the red flags just look like flags. Things started to get worse and worse with Cronus the more ‘Tuna recovered. Cronus just couldn’t see the friend he once knew anymore but that gives him no right to treat him the way he did and still does. The day we started to completely cut off all contact with Cronus was the day he actually hit Mituna in front of me. Me and ‘Tuna were just out skating, trying to find the best place to try some basic tricks when we came across Cro’. We took a short break to talk to him for a bit, I should’ve noticed this so much sooner but Mituna was extremely uncomfortable being around him. It’s my fault for not hearing it in his words. Cronus continued to speak some kind of friendship nonsense and wrapped his arm around my bee’s shoulder. ‘Tuna tensed up and shoved the guy away, hard. Cronus looked at him shocked just standing there. Then the bastard said something I will never forget. “I should’ve fucking culled you after we found your broken sorry-ass,” 

Then he reeled back and punched ‘Tuna square in the face. The visor on that helmet cracked and shattered. They started to brawl. Mituna pulled off his helmet to throw it right at Cronus’ chest and managed to pick up his skateboard to slam it into the dude’s side. I grabbed onto ‘Tuna and got out of there ASAP, the poor boy continuing to scream, swear and shout jumbled words all the way until we got back to my hive. I don’t know what happened to the beaten fucker in the dirt, but he could just sit there and wallow for all I care. 

I blocked Cronus on every single platform we shared that night, went into ‘Tuna’s accounts and did the same. While he doesn’t use any of his accounts any more they are important to me and I wouldn’t want that asshole touching any of it. Each and every post being a museum of what Mituna Captor once was and continues to be. 

There have been more times where the two of them have gotten into fights, usually times where I’m not around. I try my best to stay by his side and keep him away, but I can’t coddle him. I refuse to baby my baby. There’s- 

A sudden weight on her shoulders interrupted her writing. “Whatcha writing, Tulip?” her boy said in a sing-song voice. She lifted her arms up to grab onto the ones around her. “Oh, nothing too important,” she tilted her head up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Mituna giggled and rubbed his face in her hair. She laughed, pushing the arms off her and getting up. “Wanna watch another movie? I’ll watch with you this time,” she asked, hugging him close. She felt those same awkward lanky arms wrap around her. “Nah, let’ss play Trollio Kart,” he said. 

“Flushed for you,” 

“Flushshed for you tooo,”

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

Bagpipe whistled merrily as she skipped through the halls; a good day’s work always put her in a good mood, but today was special - namely, she had somewhere to be, and someone to go home to...It was a wonderful thing, honestly.

“Chenchen!” The Vouivre called into the office. “Ready to go home?”

Ch’en rolled out of her office in her chair, tired but smiling. “Hey, Pippy. I started something right before you came in, and if I don’t finish it today, I won’t be able to submit it. Do you mind waiting for just a little bit?”

“Naw, do wucha gotta, there’s time. Hey, you feelin’ okay?”

“Hmm? At least the same as usual.” She yawned. “And...done. We can go home.”

Something was bothering her, though. “Ya look real tired, Chenchen.”

“Like I said - the same as usual.” The Lung staggered to her feet and closed the distance between them.

“This is normal?” Bagpipe shook her head. “I thotcha figr’d out howta pace yerself.”

She shook her head. “Nope. It’s why I fall asleep at my desk so much.”

“And ya think ya won’t fall asleep in the mil’ of it?...Akshully, that ain’t the worst thing in’a world. Let’s getcha home.”

“Yeah...” Ch’en stretched her arms out. “Carry me?”

The Vouivre chuckled. “Aww, I ain’t sayin’ no to that puppy-dog face. C’mon.”

“Thank you~” As she left the ground, she wrapped her arms around her Bagpipe’s neck and began softly humming to herself.

‘I ferget she gets like this when she’s tired,’ the vanguard noted to herself. ‘Used ta be rare to see ‘er so tired tho...I know she don’t want me worr’in ‘bout ‘er, but how’m I gonna i’nore some’in so obvyus?...Well, I’ll let ‘er sleep while I make dinner, at least.’

Bagpipe left the Lung on her own couch - still not clean enough at the alternative, after all - and started on dinner. Between the time they’d spent together in college and her girlfriend’s surprisingly open mind when it came to food so long as it met her nutritional needs, she was free to auto-pilot something while the focused on something much more important: figuring out why it was Ch’en could only leave her office thoroughly exhausted.

When after an hour the answer didn’t seem much clearer but dinner was finished cooking, the Vouivre walked back to the couch...and found that in the middle of her nap, LGD’s finest had turned around to squeeze the pillow her head had been resting on for all she was worth. Smiling to herself, the vanguard tapped her on the neck. “Din’rs ready, Chenchen.”

“...” She stirred a little, but only to bury herself further into the pillow.

“Right. Welp, I tried.” With a bit of a chuckle, Bagpipe lifted Ch’en off the couch and over her head, using her as a makeshift dumbbell as she began to chant: “One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand, four-”

That was enough to do the job. “I’m awake, I’m awake...How long was I out?”

“Long ‘nuff fer me ta finish din’r. Yer sure ev’ythin’s a’rite?”

“...I never said it was alright, Pippy,” the Lung replied as she was carried into the dining room. “If I had, I’d be lying to you, and I’ve never liked doing that.”

Not that she never had...interesting. “Well, c’mon now, don’t keep me in ‘spense or som’in. What’s wrong?”

“My job is literally eating me away into nothing.” By this point they were at the table, serving themselves.

“Well, shit, I kinda thought this might ‘appen.” The Vouivre sighed. “Ya always burnt yerself at both ends, didn’cha?”

Ch’en nodded. “There’s a lot of work to be done to make Lungmen a place people can call home, but to be honest, I know I don’t have to push myself so far to still make strides. Knowing that and actually stopping myself, though, are two wildly different things, so...I need your help.”

“All ya hafta do is ask. Whatcha need from me?”

“I don’t have any specifics,” she admitted, “otherwise I’d tell you. Honestly, I think I’ll be able to start changing by keeping the thought of making our time together worthwhile at the front of my mind, but if it’s not, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to meet me in the middle while I’m trying to improve. Are you okay with all of that?”

Bagpipe moved her plate and some other dishes aside so she could reach her arm across the table. “Ch’en, I’d move ‘Ev’n and Terra fer ya if ya needed meh ta. I been waitin’ a few years now ta hold ya, and a lil’ competin’ fer time ain’t gonna scare me away.”

“...Thank you.” The Lung squeezed her hand, a tear falling from her eye. This was why she was the one, no doubt about it.

“I know ya had a nap,” the Vouivre continued, “but we ‘ad a talk earlier this mornin’, and I was won’rin’-”

That managed to draw a giggle. “I’m glad you remembered. I think I have the energy for something.”

“Ya sure? If yer tired, I don’ wanna-”

“Tiring me out will help me sleep better,” Ch’en assured her, “and I’ve been waiting on you this whole time, too. Strike while the iron’s hot, like our Strategic Assessment instructor used to say.”

Her girlfriend smiled mischievously at her. “But yer always gonna be hot, Chenchen.”

“Is that city girl flattery? From Pippy? Well, I never.” How consciously she was doing this was hard to tell, both for herself and Bagpipe, but the Lung was sending a message in Morse code with her hand-squeezing: “F...U...C-”

The Vouivre got the message loud and clear.

[brianc521]

Gears of Love | Raul Mendes

Mechanic!Raul | OC!Juniper

Juniper Kelly’s biggest dream was to become a published author. It’d been her dream since high school when she posted a few Fanfiction pieces on a website dedicated for fanfic and got tons of hits right away. She had her own account and racked up a pretty big audience that always requested for more, and every so often left her words of encouragement.

She’d built her whole life around her dream once she graduated. She read every book she could get her hands on, she pushed herself to write things that were out of her comfort zone, she researched random topics in hopes of adding dimension to the characters she created.

She found inspiration in everything. It’s how she met the one thing that gives her the most inspiration, her boyfriend, Raul Mendes.

Raul Mendes was a young mechanic who has just recently taken over his father's auto body shop. Raul has always liked working with his hands, it’s the one thing that kept him out of trouble through his younger years. He was a triplet, and between him and his brothers he was the known bad boy. When they all turned 16 his brothers opted for a Jeep and a truck when he begged for a motorcycle. Fixing up his bike and constantly learning new things about the motor is what kept him interested in school.

They both met one day while Raul was out to coffee with his brothers. It hadn’t been the first time he’d seen her there. She often was spotted in the back corner seat of Amy’s Cold Brew Place, laptop out, headphones in, typing away.

It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him either. She’d unintentionally created a whole character based off Raul. The bad boy to the new story she was writing. Well, a bad soft boy. This time though Raul was sporting a new piece of metal in his lip, and it had her going crazy. She watched his mouth as he spoke to his brothers, the way he’d tongue at the curved jewelry in his lip.

One of the brothers, Shawn who she didn’t know was his name at the time, noticed her staring and nudged Raul’s arm and nodded in her direction bringing Raul’s attention to her fatuation. Causing her to go completely red in embarrassment and hide behind her laptop screen.

Raul on the other hand bit his lip in the smug way he does and saw this as his chance to ‘shoot his shot’.

“Couldn’t help but notice you stare.” His voice was so smooth but also rough and raspy. “Hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I’ve been staring too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Raul.” He offered his hand to shake, which she did with a nervous smile.

“Juniper, but my friends call me June.”

“Juniper? That’s really pretty, I’ve never met anyone with that name.”

“It’s weird I know.” She tucked her hair behind her ear.

“It’s not.” He shook his head, touching her fingers that were on the table to get her attention. “It’s truly beautiful.”

It was right then and there where they stole each others hearts.

**

“Juniper Baby?” Raul asked as he walked through the front door, throwing his keys and wallet on the table just inside the door.

“Living room.” She called out weakly from her camped out spot on the floor in the middle of the room. Surrounding her were books and loose pieces of paper.

“Hey Gorgeous.” Raul smiled as he walked in the room, finding his girlfriend in one of his sweatshirts with her hair in a messy bun.

He got a mumbled “Hi.” In return. He chuckled, knowing she was in a completely different world right now, with the way her fingers were flying across the keyboard. So instead of interrupting he’d wandered himself in the kitchen to make her a midnight snack.

With not having much talent in the kitchen he settled on grilled cheese with a granola bar and a glass of milk. He walked back into the living room, figuring out her maze to the center of her circle where she was sitting  pretty quickly. Slowly he pushed her laptop closed, giving her plenty of time to move her fingers.

She looked up with wide eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Hi.” She whispered when he pushed the plate that holds her sandwich and granola bar into her hands.

“Hi Baby.” He leaned forward kissing her cheek. “Did you have dinner?”

“Um,” She says while taking a huge bite of her sandwich, “I nibbled.”

“On?” He rolled his eyes.

She turns and holds up a bowl full of dry cheerios.

“Baby, I know you’re in crunch time trying to finish before you meet with the publisher this week but you have to take care of yourself. You can’t meet with the publisher if you’re in the hospital after passing out for lack of nutrition.”

She sighs and nods at him.

“It’s like a job interview Baby. You have to make yourself look good. And if you go in looking like a skeleton they’re not gonna be impressed.”

“Okay.” She whines, looking down at her lap.

“Hey.” He tips her chin up. “I know my Baby can do it. I know she’s the best, she just has to know it too.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.” He smiles, leaning a bit closer.

“I love you too.”

He kisses her lips softly, giggling as he pulls away. “You taste like cheese.”

“You taste like milk.” She replies.

“So,” He takes the last bite of his sandwich. “Can I read it yet?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Am I ever going to get to read this masterpiece?”

“If I have a say then no, you won’t ever get to read it.”

“What?” He gapes at her, frown pulling at his lips.

“You will read it, I just. I have to make it perfect first.”

He sets her plate aside crawling up to his hands and knees, causing her to lean back until she’s laying on the floor and he’s hovering over her. “It is perfect Juniper Baby, because you wrote it.”

She shakes her head, tapping his nose. “You’re just a sweet talker, I know your games Mendes.”

“Come on,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Let me read it.”

“No.” She lets out breathlessly.

“Please.” He groans as he hikes her leg up over his waist, lips sealed to the skin behind her ear.

“No but you can keep doing that.”

“Oh can I?” He grins, hand trailing up and into her shorts. “Can I do this?” He strokes her heat from the outside of her panties, causing a friction that has her tugging at his hair and moaning into his ear.

“Yeah you can do that.”

“Mmm,” He pulls back to look at her blissed out eyes. “Let’s see what else I can do.”

**

After their raundeveous on her brainstorm notes she was sleepy and dreary eyed. Trying to fight herself to stay awake with him, but she’d had an early morning while he had a late night so he put her to bed when she dozed off on his chest. Tucked her in and kissed her forehead before heading back to the kitchen. He was still pretty wired from his stressful day at work and poured himself a small glass of whiskey.

Catching sight of the mail on the counter he took a sip of his drink and then opened the few envelopes they’d received. He sighed, setting his cup down, when he saw the electric check he had written just a week ago had bounced. Pinching the bridge of his nose he read that the few other checks he’d written for bills had bounced as well.

“Fuck me.” He mumbled, checking the bank statement he’d been emailed last night and groaned when he saw that he hadn’t been able to pay himself last week, spacing it completely since he’d already sent off the checks.

He stared at his phone that was laid out on the counter and cursed himself as he did the last thing he swore he’d ever do. He called Shawn.

“Raul? It’s like 1:30 in the morning, what are you doing up?”

“What are you doing up?”

“I’m writing a song, and you? Since I asked first?”

He grins, biting his lip as he looks to the bedroom door that was open just a hint. “Well I had a rather pleasing romp in the sheets with my girl before putting her to bed.”

“Oh gross I didn’t need to know that. Are you still in bed?”

“No what kind of animal do you think I am?”

“I’m not sure you want me to answer that.”

Raul laughs in response, letting the conversation with his brother calm him for the time being.

“But you called for a reason so what’s up?”

“Is there a chance I could meet you for coffee tomorrow morning? I need to ask you something but I want it to be in person.”

“Um sure, are you asking me to be a groomsman because I already through it was decided that I was your best man, Peter is mine, and you’re Peter’s.”

“I’m not asking you to be my best man,” Raul shakes his head. “Well, yet.”

“Oh we’ll be talking about that tomorrow too. I’ll meet you at Amy’s at 8?”

“Can we do 9? I wanna make sure the shop opens just fine.”

“Yeah that works, see you then.”

“Okay thanks.”

“Love ya bro, go to bed.”

“Love ya too. Goodnight.”

With that Raul hung up on Shawn and shook his head as he downed the rest of his whiskey and headed to bed.

**

Raul walked in the door to Amy’s at 9:26 rushing in to find Shawn, who was seated at a table with two coffee’s.

“Hey I thought you were gonna stand me up.” Shawn smiled as Raul slid into the table.

“Sorry, had an issue with a customer who was upset about the price for an oil change.”

“Doing oil changes now?” Shawn questions, sipping at his coffee.

“Yeah I needed more business so I expanded the services a little.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Okay, I need to blurt this out because I absolutely hate myself for doing this. I mean you don’t know how much I’m beating myself up over this. I feel like such a-”

“Hey, blurt it out.” Shawn cuts him off.

“Can I borrow some money?” Raul blurts, cringing at himself.

Shawn sets his cup down, and sits straighter. “Are you okay?”

Raul sighs and hangs his head. “The business is struggling this summer, I haven’t been able to pay myself for like a month now? And Juni, she’s working on her novel and baby sitting on the side, but her gigs aren’t bringing in enough, you know? I thought I had enough in my savings to last us, but after last month's rent and bills I’m drained out man. I’m trying so hard, I’m pushing myself to the breaking point, and I wrote checks for this months bills and,” He sighs shaking his head. “They bounced.”

“Raul.” Shawn sighed.

“I know, but when I wrote them the shop was making money so I was planning to pay myself but then we lost a few solid clients and I wasn’t able too. So they bounced and I don’t want to stress Juni out, she’s just now found a publisher and I’d hate myself if she didn’t go through with it to find a job. Just this once Shawn, and I’ll pay you back I swear.”

“Raul, breathe.”

Raul takes a few deep breaths and nods at his brother.

“How much?”

“$700?” Raul whispers, shoulders slouching. “I have enough to cover half the rent, but then there’s-”

“Shh.” Shawn shakes his head, pulling his wallet out. “I don’t need to know your bills and all that. Take this,” Shawn pulls out cash from his wallet. “And don’t even worry about it. I want to see June succeed in her writing. I want you to succeed at the shop, you’re both in the struggle stage before you’re gonna take off. I can see it. So take it, it’s my support for both of your dreams.”

“No I’ll pay you back. Thank you so much Shawn. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I do, I love you Raul, and I want to see you successful and happy.”

“I love you too Shawn.”

“Now get back to the shop.” Shawn smiles, showing his brother away.

**

Sitting in his office on his ‘lunch break’ Raul is able to pay off the bills since he’d deposited the cash Shawn gave him into his account on his way back to the shop. The moment everything balanced he was able to breathe deeply and not stutter on it.

“Where is he?” He heard from just outside his office.

“On lunch.”

Raul looked up when he heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor and then stood when Juniper walked in. She had her meeting with the editor and publisher today, meaning she’d borrowed her sisters suit and heels to dress to impress.

“Well?” He asked softly, in case it didn’t go well, but by the smile on her face he’d say it went just fine.

“They wanna publish it!” She yelled, running and jumping into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“Oh my god Juniper Baby that’s awesome!” He cheered. She squeezed him tighter and squealed in his ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me Baby?”

“Because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have gone for it. I wouldn’t have even started writing the book in the first place. I wouldn’t have had the chance to be able to write. I owe it all to you, so thank you. Thank you for believing in my dreams, and thank you for making them come true.”

“You made them come true Baby, I simply said that you could.”

She pulled back and held his cheeks in her hands as she kissed him passionately. “Any chance you can come home right now?” She mutters against his lips.

“You’re insatiable.” He grins, thinking back to the fun shower they’d shared this morning. “I would totally love to, but I kind of have to close the shop tonight. Connor’s Mom is throwing a surprise birthday party for his brother and he’s in charge of getting the cake.”

“Awe.” She whines, jutting her bottom lip forward. “Can you come right home after close?”

He sighs, looking at the stack of paperwork on his desk. When his eyes flick back to his girlfriend who is pleading with him. He can’t say no. I mean she’s getting her book published. “Yeah, the minute I close I’m out of here. Go home and get fancied up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my girl is gonna be a published author, she deserves to be wined and dined before she’s fucked and tucked.”

“Oh my god you did not just say that.” She hits his chest playfully, giggling as he tugs her close burying his face in her neck. “I hate you!” She laughs harder when he bites at her neck.

“You love me, don’t lie.”

**

“So tell me everything, start from the beginning.” Raul says now that the waiter has taken their orders.

She sits straighter, smiling at him with such hope in her eyes. “So the CEO of this small publishing company downtown emailed me about a week and a half ago about a manuscript I sent.”

“Mhm.”

“And she wanted me to come in with a second draft of the manuscript to meet with her and her editor. So that’s what my meeting was today. Her name is Carol Wilkins of Wilkins Stories. The editor, Jackson Perry was so kind about my work. He truly was able to grasp the essence of my characters and had wonderful notes that just expanded my work tremendously.”

“Wait so this is still your book right? You didn’t like sell the story?”

Her expression changes from excitement to horror so fast that he has to hold on to the edge of the table to stable himself.

“Why would you ever suggest such a thing? I’ve literally poured my heart and soul into this manuscript-”

“Hey,” Raul grabs her hand, bringing her back to him. “I’m not the bad guy, I’m just trying to understand this side of your world. My brain is wrapping around the idea of an editor. To me they just make sure spelling and punctuation is correct.”

“Well yes but they also help with subjects and making sure the flow of the book works.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked what I did, I'm just trying to understand. I’m going to have questions about this. I have no idea what you’re doing or how you do it. You’re magical to me.”

She blushes as she rolls her eyes at him. “I just see an idea and write it. Describe it. It’s nothing special.”

“I’d begged to differ. Although you haven’t let me read this certain book, you have let me read a few shorts you wrote and the fact that you can create another world, another timeline with just words is magic. It’s pure magic that you could make my heart race and break and sink to my stomach with the way a character felt.”

“You’re too much.”

“I’m not enough, clearly since I asked the horrid question I did.”

“Hey.” She squeezes his hand, brows furrowing. “Never say that to me again. You’re everything and more.”

He gives her the best smile he can, but he can’t help but feel pretty low about himself right now. The fact that he had to stoop so low and ask his multimillionaire brother for money is killing him inside. He wants to make her happy, he wants to support and take care of her. He just isn’t stable enough in the shop to do so yet. Once he’s able to be stable and pay Shawn back he’ll start to feel a little better but right now he’s feeling like a grade A loser.

**

Raul walks into the empty cold apartment with grease smeared along his brow. His strong jawline is clenched with the stress of the day he’s had, but he’s ready to shower and have a lovely dinner in with his girl.

“Juniper Baby?” He asks, not recalling if he’d seen her car in the garage.

Walking around noticing the lights are off he assumes she’s on her way from the publishing house. It’s Wednesday which was ‘Masked Singer’ nights, and also their designated date night. It’s a random day of the week to have a date night, but it’s the slowest day of the week for the shop therefore making it the only day Raul is comfortable having Connor close up for him.

He takes this time to jump into the shower real quick and get himself all put together for his lady, making sure to shave and add a little gel to his curls. He slips on a nice sweater, one of her favorites, and sets off to the kitchen to make her dinner.

As he’s plating the chicken alfredo and garlic bread he realizes how late she is on coming home. He checks his phone and doesn’t see any messages and that makes his heart beat a little quicker. Dialling her number he takes the plates to the beat up folding card table they have set as a ‘dining room’.

“Hey you’ve reached June, I’m not able to answer the phone right now but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Leave a message!”

He sighs as the tone sounds, “Hey Juni, just thought I’d let you know that dinner is served up for us. Um call me back when you get a chance. I can’t wait to see you, even though I’m sure you’ll walk through the door any minute. Okay I love you. Bye Baby.”

He clicks his phone off and goes to set the living room with a few blankets and pillows along with a few lit candles.

**

By 9 Raul’s pacing the apartment. He’s called her five times and every call has gone to voicemail. He’s scared because no one else has heard from her either.

When the sound of her key turning the lock on the door rings through the silent apartment Raul just about tackles her when she walks through the door. She yelps as he picks her up, sighing against her shoulder.

“Raul?” She asks confused as to what was going on.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling away to inspect her face. “Are you hurt? Was there an accident?”

“What?” She asks, “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you so late?” He takes a step back, arms flopping to his sides.

“I was editing with Jackson.” She takes her purse off and sets it on the table he puts his keys on. “He had this idea for-”

“But it’s date night.” He pouts. “I called you a bunch and texted you. You never responded.”

“You did?” She digs through her purse. “Oh Babe I’m sorry, I must have my phone on silent.”

“It’s still date night Juniper.” He crosses his arms. “You just bailed on me without saying anything?”

“It’s not da-” But when she looks at her phone seeing ‘Wednesday 9:07 pm’ flash on her screen she groans. “It’s date night. I’m sorry Babe. I had the days mixed up, I thought today was Tuesday.”

“I mean it’s cool if you want to bail, but at least tell me.” He says walking to the table and grabbing the two full plates of cold pasta.

“You made alfredo,” She whines. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.”

“Raul I’m sorry.” She says grabbing his hand once he’s set the plates on the kitchen counter. “Honey I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay. I totally bailed on you and that’s not cool. I’ll make it up to you.”

“I need to go to bed.”

“No! Raul please.”

“Connor closed tonight which means I have to open, and I left a ton of paperwork because of date night. I need to make up that time I skipped tonight. So I have to go in early tomorrow.”

“How early?” She asks. “Because I have to go in early too. Let’s do a breakfast date, to make up for tonight.”

“I have to be in at 7.” He rubs his chin. “The shop doesn’t open til 9, but I could push to like 8 if you wanna do breakfast.”

She flops into one of the camp chairs that’s set up at the table. “I have to go in at 6, Carol wants to go over the changes before she leaves town for the rest of the week. But maybe lunch?”

“I can't, I have to work through lunch tomorrow because Connor has a dentist appointment.”

“Then can we do date night right now?”

“I have to go to bed Juniper.” He says putting his hands on his hips. “I’ve been up since 5 this morning, I have to be up at 5 again tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“I’ve started going to the gym with Shawn in the morning. We meet at 6 and I go straight from the gym to work. I told you this! I’ve been doing this for like 3 weeks now. Shawn’s only in town for so long.”

“You didn’t go on Monday, you stayed and we took a shower before my meeting.”

“Shawn had an early morning meeting, but we met for coffee.”

“You had time to meet Shawn for coffee on Monday but couldn’t leave early?”

“Yes I needed to ask him something.”

“What did you need to ask him?”

“Something about the business.” He waved her off, walking to the bedroom.

“What was it?”

“Does it matter?” He turns to her, watching the hurt flash across her face. “I’m taking a shower.”

“You took one when you got home. I can tell.”

“I want to take another, is that a crime? This gel shit makes my hair all gross, and I’m starting to become upset and need a moment to collect myself.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna eat real quick and then can we talk about your day?”

“Sure.” He mumbled as he goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“You never shut the door.” She whispers, staring at the closed bathroom door that's working well to divide them.

**

Raul only takes long showers when he’s upset or stressed and right now Juniper is worried it’s a combination of both considering it’s been almost an hour and a half and Raul is still in the bathroom.

She doesn’t want to invade on his personal time, but she’s really starting to worry.

“Raul, Baby?” She asks, knocking on the door softly.

“Yeah?” He croaks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in? Join you maybe?” She asks, holding out hope that he’ll say yes.

“Um,” She hears him shuffling. “Sure.”

She smiles, knowing that her boy is still there. That he’s still with her, no matter how much she fucks up. She steps into the room quickly, stripping and slowly opening the curtain.

The sight she sees is like a sucker punch to the gut. Raul was standing under the shower head, curls stuck to his forehead, eyes red and puffy as if he’d been crying and his skin was bright red from the heat of the water.

“Baby.” She sighs, stepping in with him and turning the knob to turn the heat down a bit. “You’re gonna hurt your skin.” She whispers, hesitating to touch her.

“Okay.”

“Raul, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me. We’re already in rocky territory right now, let’s not make it worse.”

“We’re in rocky territory?” His voice cracks as he turns over his shoulder to peer at her.

“Are we?”

“You tell me?”

“Raul,” She sighs, shaking her head. “You have to tell me. I’m the one who fucked up here. I’m the one who forget about date night, I’m the one who ditched you. I’m the one beating myself up, so please tell me, are we?”

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. “And you don’t need to be beating yourself up. It’s okay Baby. I understand that you got caught up, and there’s been a lot on your plate suddenly. I’m so proud of you for doing this. There is just a lot going on at work right now, I’m struggling with the shop and I’m not dealing with it well.”

“What’s going on at the shop?” She asks, touching his bare back.

He relaxes at her touch, melting back into her. She slides her hands from his back around to his chest, stepping forward to hug him from behind. Resting her head between his shoulder blades, kissing at the red skin for a moment.

“Business went down when word spread that my dad retired. No one thinks I can handle the shop the way he did. No one thinks I can run the place. They all think I’m some delinquent, and not the one who was running the place a full year before Dad retired.”

“You are not delinquent.” She gasps, slipping around him to be face to face.

“Yeah well tell that to my tattoos and piercings.”

“What do tattoos and piercings have to do with how well you can work? With how successful you are?”

“I don’t know!” He cries. “Ask the fucking boomers.”

“Okay, boomer.” She snorts, remembering a reference her nephew said when she’d gone over to borrow her sisters suit. “Honestly Babe,” She plays with the slight dusting of chest hair he has. “I think you’re amazing at what you do. You understand everything with engines and motors so perfectly. You haven’t seen one car that you haven’t been able to fix. If your Dad’s old clients can’t see that, then they’re not the clients for you. It’s time to go out and find your own. I know you can do it.”

“I love you.” He sighs, tucking his face into the crook of her neck and shoulder. “You make everything better.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight to say this sooner. It won’t happen again.”

“It’s okay Baby.” He gives her a peck. “But I seriously need to go to bed. Shawn’s gonna kick my ass tomorrow if I’m dragging.”

She laughs and nods, turning the water off and stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself before wrapping one around him.

**

With the persona Raul gives off to the public, no one would peg him as the jealous type. He just holds this confidence in the way he goes about his life. To truly know Raul, you know that he deep down has a hint of insecurity that can manifest and spin out of control.

He’s slowly starting to spin.

He’s yet to be able to pay Shawn back, and he knows within the next two weeks another bout of bills is going to roll in. If he doesn’t hit some sort of luck of gold he’s not gonna have enough to pay them again. He won’t go back to the bank of Shawn.

Peter has just been accepted into an internship that will, within a few years, lead him into the doors of Nasa just like he’s always dreamed off. Shawn’s been nominated for a Grammy, again, and his third world tour is almost over. Aaliyah has been accepted into University of Toronto to study Cinema Studies. Juniper is editing everyday, now seeing plans for book jackets and talking about a book signing tour.

While Raul, well Raul is resorting to handing out $5 off slips in the local grocery stores to drum up more business. He’s just feeling less and less of himself, watching those most important around him start to grow while he’s plateauing.

With all of this going on, it doesn’t help that his girlfriend comes home late at night after spending the day with Jackson. He’s all she can talk about now. ‘Jackson this’, ‘Jackson that’, Raul is slowly starting to lose his goddamn mind.

Peter sits in his office while he waits for him to be done charging a new client for the rock chip fix they completed on the front windshield. When he goes to his office he feels like he can breathe deeply again when he sees his brother there.

“So how are you doing?” Peter asks when Raul sits. “I haven’t heard from you lately.”

“Um, I’m really fucking stressed out.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is so much going wrong that I can’t keep up.”

“What do you mean?” Peter asks, sitting forward. “Why haven’t you asked for help?”

“I have.” He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You have?”

“I asked Shawn.”

“Oh.” Peter leans back, a bit hurt that he wasn’t asked.

“No Pete, not like that. It’s not like that.” Raul shakes his head. “I couldn’t pay rent.” He mumbled, not making eye contact with his brother. “And as much as it disgusted me, I felt more comfortable asking Shawn for money.”

“Oh Raul.” Peter leans forward to squeeze his brothers hand for a brief moment, letting him know that he’s there for him. “Are you okay?”

“I mean no, I’m not. It fucking sucked. It fucking sucks that I might not be able to pay rent next month either.”

“What’s going on? Are you not making money?”

“Well we lost a lot of clients when Dad announced his retirement, and because of that business dropped significantly. I’m working on bringing some back, but it’s taking longer than I expected.”

“Can I help at all?”

“Know about $4000 worth of cars that need fixing?”

“Well no,” Peter shakes his head. “But like, can us as a family help?”

“Well,” Raul rubs the slight stubble on his chin. “Loretta is planning to retire,” He says, talking about the front desk receptionist. “I was thinking of asking Li if she’d be interested. I mean, she could work around class, and I’d be real flexible, school comes first.”

“Totally, and if you need another mechanic I can jump in and help. More hands mean more cars right?”

“No, Pete you just got that internship.”

“Yeah, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.” Peter shrugs. “I ain’t got nothing going on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally, and like you can pay me minimum, I don’t need a whole lot. Plus I know you hate the new kid you hired. Brock right?”

“Yeah,” Raul sighs. “I mean he shows a bit of potential but like he’s so arrogant, and rude to customers. He’s driving away business.”

“So get rid of him, bring me on, keep Connor. And we’ll make it a family business again.”

“Are you sure Pete? Because I don’t want to overwhelm you, you’re dreams need to come before the shop.”

“No don’t do that.” Peter shakes his head. “The shop is your dream. My dreams aren’t superior to yours.”

“Let me talk to Li before we make any final plans okay?” Raul says, standing to hug his brother, because it feels like a weight was just completely lifted from his shoulders.

**

“Hey!” Aaliyah cheered when she looked up to see Raul walking into her bedroom. She hadn’t know he was coming over.

“Hey Kid.” He smiled, catching her as she leapt into his arms for a hug. “How you doing?”

“I’m good, staying busy.” She laughs, sitting back on her bed while Raul sits in the chair that sits at her vanity.

“How busy?”

“Um, just school and hockey.”

He nods, and looks around her room to stall.

“What’s up Raul? Why’d you stop by?”

“Can’t want to see my baby sister?” He asks looking back at her again.

“You can, if you ever did.” She giggled. “So what’s up?”

“Hey, I want to see you all the time.” He objects.

“Raul, you’re stalling. I know you, what’s up?”

“You want a job?” He blurts, eyes wide.

“What?” She breathes out.

“Fuck me,” He groans. “Okay what I meant to say is, Loretta at the shop is retiring, but she told me she’d wait until I found her replacement before she left the shop. She’s all worried with Dad retiring and now her that I’ll be left alone and screw the whole shop up. I know that’s not the case, but as I was thinking about replacing Loretta, I realized that all the people I’ve had to replace doesn’t make the shop feel like home anymore. It doesn’t feel like a family. I’d like to get back to that. So,” He shrugs, “If you’re looking for a job, that you can have through college, I’d love for you to join me at the shop as the receptionist.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think you’d be really good at it. You know everything there is to know about the shop already, you know most of the customers. I’d be there with you everyday, Pete a few days out of the week.”

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah Pete talked to me about taking Brock’s shifts because his new internship is only three days a week. He’s willing to help out, and it’ll give him practice on working on motors before he goes all pro and starts working for Nasa.”

“I hate that Brock guy, he’s a creep.”

“He is, he’d be completely gone if you join us. I don’t want you around him, or really vice versa.”

“But I’ll have class.”

“And as your super proud older brother I’d much rather you go to class than to the shop. So if you did decide to join us, I’d be totally flexible to your schedule. We can switch it up anytime we need to, like if you feel you need more time to study one week that’s perfectly fine. If you want more hours because you don’t have so much going on, then you’ll have them. Whatever you want, I'll give you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I want you Li. I miss seeing you everyday, and I think you’d be a great asset to the shop I’m trying to run.”

“Okay, yes. I’m in.”

“Oh my god!” Raul cheers, jumping up to hug his sister. “Yay! I can’t wait.”

“So what else is going on? I saw June like two weeks ago and she seems busy.”

“She is.” Raul nods. “She’s really busy.”

“You sound, bitter? About that.” She says, trying to figure out what the right word is to describe Raul’s reaction.

“I just,” He sighs. “I just feel a little jealous I guess. She spends so much time with Jackson, her editor. He’s literally all she talks about when she’s home. I can’t go two sentences without the guys name being in there. I love her to death, and their closeness scares me a little.”

“Raul, no, she loves you.”

“Lately, I’ve been worried about that. I just feel so inadequate. This Jackson guy has so much to offer her. I mean he’s her editor to start, but like he also knows what the fuck she talks about 99% of the time. While I’m over here floundering because she’s talking hyperbole's and foreshadowing. I mean I stay up late just to look those fucking words up because I don’t remember jackshit from school.”

“But you care Raul, I mean you’re looking the words up for heaven's sake.”

“I’m just a mechanic Li, not even a good one at that. How am I any help to her. I don’t read, ever, and I can’t proof her shit because I don’t know what that entails. I mean she doesn’t even let me read her work anyway, that’s how ashamed she is.”

“She is not ashamed of you Raul. You mean so much more to her than you even know. It’s astounding the way she speaks about you. I can’t even begin to do it justice because I can’t. You’re everything to her, you just need to listen when she tells you so.”

“I don’t know Li.”

“I think you need to talk to her about this. I think she needs to know how you’re feeling. How is it supposed to get better when the person you’re stressed over doesn’t even know your stressed about them?”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Then go home and talk to her, please.”

“It is date night, maybe I’ll talk to her tonight.” He nods, kissing his sisters cheek as a goodbye as he starts to leave. “I’ll text you when I’ve fired Brock, I don’t want you to start until he’s gone.”

**

Raul checks his phone as he gets in his car, noticing he’s got a few texts.

iMessage from Superstar Shawn: Okay loser, Petey’s coming by tonight for pizza and beer to watch the game. Be there or be square.

iMessage from Pete’s Dragon: What did Li say?

iMessage from My Juni <3: Hey, sorry honey I can’t make it home in time for date night tonight. Carol wants to talk book jacket bio

Raul rolls his eyes, replaying her ‘it won’t happen again’ back in his head. He knows he shouldn’t be upset and grumpy over this. Her dreams are coming true and that’s all he’s ever wanted for her. He just didn’t realize for her dreams to come true, their relationship would be put on hold.

iMessage to Superstar Shawn: I’ll be there

iMessage to Pete’s Dragon: I’ll tell ya tonight.

**

Raul has distanced himself a bit from Juniper, not wanting to ask the dire questions he needs answered in the slight chance that he won’t get the answer he wants. The ‘what if’ is too grave for him to risk.

Since she’s cancelled on him twice now for date night, in favor of working on her book he just feels like right now that’s the most important thing in her life. He’s trying to allow her to let that be important without her having to worry about anything else that’s going on in their lives at the moment.

The distance is something that’s taking a toll on Juniper. She’s been asked to write a more in-depth version of one of the last chapters of her book, and since the inspiration for the book seems to be super far away, she’s in the worst block she’s ever had.

“Juniper, go home.” Jackson says. “You need the night with him, actually you need like a week straight alone with him.”

What Juniper didn’t expect to find when she walked in the door was Raul hunched over the table, head in his hands as he reads through a bunch of paperwork.

“Hey.” She says softly, hoping not to startle him. “What’s all this?” She asks, referring to the opened envelopes all over the table.

“Nothing.” Raul grunts. “What’s wrong? Why are you home?”

“Hi, nice to see you too Dear.” She pokes his shoulder, teasingly. “I wanted to spend some time with you. I miss my boyfriend.”

“Well he’s always here Juniper.” Raul spits, shrugging off her hands that had started to massage his shoulders. She stares at the back of his head appalled that he’d called her Juniper, not Juniper Baby.

“I know, and I appreciate that. I’m always here for you too.” She plants a kiss to his mop of curls.

“No you’re not.” He stands, grabbing the papers in a rush. As he turns to walk out of the dining room area that leads to the kitchen, he drops a paper. Juniper reaches down to grab it for him, but looks at it first.

“What is this?” She gasps. “A final notice?”

“Give me that.” Raul turns on his heel in a hurry to snatch the paper form her.

“Wait, is this our phone bill?” She steps out of his reach as she continues to read the bill.

“No!” He reaches for it again.

“Wait-” She stops him, pulling the other bills from his hands. Watching as he sighs in defeat, hanging his head. “Almost all of these are final notices.”

“Yeah well.” He scratches the back of his neck as she siffles through papers.

“Raul,” She looks up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about this? I thought we were in this together, no?”

At this Raul snaps, his spin spins out of control and he loses it all.

“Me too!” He raises his voice. “But lately you haven’t been here! I’ve been here,” He points to his chest. “Me, I’ve been here. And guess what Juniper, we’re fucking broke. News flash, you’re 16 hour days of editing are unpaid.”

“Hey.” She says softly.

“I can’t do it on my own anymore. I mean fuck, the shop is just now starting to make money again. This is the first month I’ve been able to pay myself since I took over. We can finally make this month’s rent by the skin of our teeth.”

“Wait.” She stops him, now starting to ramp up to his anger. “If you’ve just now been able to pay yourself, then how have we paid rent the four months we’ve lived here?”

“Well the first two months totally drained my savings, and last month I had to go to Shawn.”

She gasps as she looks at him. She takes a step back, eyes wide, mouth agape. “You what?”

“I had to, what else was I going to do?”

“Talking to me about it would have been a good start. You didn’t Raul, you didn’t drain everything?”

“How were we going to pay rent?” He exclaims, waving his hands around. “Hate to say it, but this hellhole we live in that barely has heat and no dishwasher is expensive.”

“Raul,” Her eyes go misty. “I can’t believe you.”

“What? What did I do now? Sorry I’m not fucking perfect okay? I was just trying to be enough so you could live out your dream. But I couldn’t fucking do it on my own, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.”

“We were supposed to do it together Raul.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“How?” He laughs desperately. “How was I supposed to help make your dreams come true in any other way? Hmm? I’m not Jackson, Juniper. I can’t edit your writing, I mean you won’t even let me read it. I get it, I’m not smart like you. I don’t read and write, I understand you don’t want me to read your work. The least I can do, to feel somewhat adequate in this relationship was to make sure you weren’t worried about money.”

“What?” She stares at him. “What do you mean feel adequate in this relationship?” She stands appalled at the words he’s just spoken.

“I mean, what else am I to you?”

“The love of my life.” She cuts him off. “How could you think otherwise? Raul I don’t need you to be able to edit my work. I don’t need you to read or be anything you aren’t. I need you to be you. I need you.” She wipes away the tear that’s rolling down her cheek. “I can’t believe I’ve made you feel that way. You’re everything to me. I haven’t let you read my work, but not because I don’t want you to. Or that I think you’re not smart enough, or some bullshit like that. Because that’s, that’s utter bullshit. Raul I haven’t let you read my book because it’s about you, and I’m scared that it’s not perfect enough to show you yet.”

“It’s what?” Raul deflates, falling back into the counter a little.

“It’s about you. It’s a love story between a young author and a mechanic.” She digs through her backpack that she set next to the table when she walked in. She grabs a book and hands it to him. “This is the first printed copy. It’s not the actual copy we’ll print because we’re still adding scenes. But this was my manuscript I sent in. Carol printed it for me so I can have both this copy and the edited copy to compare.”

Raul stares at the book in her hands, at the book jacket that reads ‘Gears of Love’. She holds it out to him, and gently he takes the book. He turns it over to read the back summary that reads.

A love story like no other. Can dreams really lead you to the rest of your life? Follow Katie Fallon, an aspiring author who meets Bryce Mills when her car breaks down on her way home from the library one night. Bryce is the local mechanic who tows Katie's car back to his shop. It’s a tale for the ages as Katie consistently bumps into Bryce around town, and Bryce falls head over engines for the cute girl that dotted her I’s with hearts.

“You dot your I’s with hearts.” Raul looks up, staring into Juniper’s eyes.

“When you read the book you’ll find out that Bryce has a head of brown curls, and the most annoying brothers Katie’s ever met. It doesn’t mention it in the summary, but Bryce is a triplet.”

“You wrote a book about me?” Raul whispers, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, you inspired me the first day you ever walked into Amy’s. I started writing this book then. After our first date the whole idea just took off, and with every day I’ve spent with you after this book has grown more and more. Honestly, I’m writing the sequel right now.”

“A sequel?” He smiles.

“It’s why I’ve been spending so much time with Jackson, rewriting the end of this book so I can lead into the sequel seamlessly.”

“Oh Juniper Baby.” He coos, bending his knees enough to pick her up and hauled her into his chest. “You’re amazing.”

“I love you so much Raul. I’m sorry I’ve made you feel otherwise.”

“No Baby, I should have talked to you about it sooner.”

“I should have been talking to you about all of this from the get go, and I shouldn’t have cancelled another date night.”

“Stop.”

“No you stop, I’m apologizing.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Raul.” She pulls back to look at him. “I want-”

“If the next word out of your mouth isn’t cuddles then you might as well just not say anything. Because I’m gonna take you into our bedroom, and cuddle the shit out of you while I explain to you all the changes I made to the shop, and how we need to, as a couple, figure out our saving plan. Okay?”

“Okay.” She nods.

“First give me a kiss?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**

This book is dedicated to my amazing boyfriend Raul. He’s my daily inspiration and without his love and support this book would have never happened. This is all for you Honey, I love you!

Raul cried when she gave him his very owned signed copy, reading the dedication in the front broke the tears from his eyes.

“Oh Juniper Baby.” He whined, turning around hugging her as she hands the rest of his family their copies as well. “I can’t believe you.”

“Ha! Raul you’re the dedication.” Aaliyah laughs, reading the page. “That’s so sweet.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“Babe,” Raul shakes his head. “You just bought us a new TV.”

“Well, I mean you needed something to go with your new Xbox.”

“You got a new Xbox?” Peter pipes up.

“Yeah was gonna invite you over for a game night this week.” Raul smiles, wiggling his eyebrows at Peter. “Since she’s forcing me to keep it after I’ve told her a thousand times to take it back.” He gives Juniper a look.

“I wanted to get you something, now shut up about it.” 

“I’m in.” Peter nods dumbly.

“Y’all I better have an invite, it’s been awhile since I beat your ass at Fifa.” Aaliyah shoved her brothers shoulders.

“Will Shawn be in town?” Juniper asked.

“Um, I think he gets back in town Wednesday.” Peter said. “So does Thursday work?”

“Works perfect for me.” Aaliyah speaks up.

“Yeah we can hang after work.” Raul nods.

“How’s the shop Raul?” Manuel asks.

“It’s going really well, we made almost $6000 more than we were projected to this last month. Was able to give everyone a bit of a bonus for hanging in there and getting us through the tough times. But it’s good. Business is racking up for holidays.”

“Yeah we have like 6 oil changes scheduled for tomorrow and Peter’s still working on that Jeep while Raul’s working on a Motorcycle for some primo guy from the Hamptons right?” Aaliyah smiles.

“Yeah shipped his bike all the way here because I happened to work on one of his buddies bikes a few weeks back. He’s paying top dollar for parts and labor. It’s a good deal, and it’s a nice bike to work on.” Raul nods.

“I’m proud of you Raul, you really turned the shop around. I knew you were the perfect fit.”

“Hmm,” Juniper smiles, rubbing Raul’s back. “I feel like I’ve said that a time or two.”

“I know,” Raul nods. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Thank you for believing in me.” She smiles.

[lostnfinding]

just breathe

idk if i already posted this, but i cant find it so im doing it again.

originally posted to my ao3

tw: hospital, sickness, references to the shit H*nry did to Bessie

word count: 2654

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

The last thing Bessie expected was the sharp but familiar pain on her chest. She hadn’t felt it on almost 500 years but there was no way she could forget it. The shortness of breath, the urge to cough and the weight on her lungs were too strong and all she knew was that she needed to find Catalina. She felt tears on her cheeks and rushed to find the first queen, sharp breaths leaving her body, still feeling like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen. She got to Aragon’s dressing room, opening the door to be met by her eyes looking at her through her reflection on the mirror.

“What happened, cariño?” she asked, seeing her panicked look and red, puffy eyes.

“It hurts, Lina… I can’t- I can’t breathe.” She managed to choke out and Catalina opened her arms, welcoming the smaller girl, who buried her head on her neck.

“It’s okay, querida, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” The woman said, stroking her hair. “How about we skip the show today and go home?” she asked.

“Hmhm” Bessie hummed in agreement, her voice weak and whimpering.

“Okay, let’s get out of these costumes and get out of here.” Aragon said and helped her with getting ready, after telling the others that they were going home and got an alternate for each. When they got in the house, Bessie changed and laid on her bed.

“Do you thing it’s it again?” she asked quietly as Catalina tucked her in.

“No, estrellita, no. You took your shot, remember? We all did. You’re okay.” She said and kissed her head. Then she started to cough. A lot. Immediately, the queen scooped her up into her lap, rocking them side to side. “Let it all out, cariño, I’m here.” For minutes, all that was heard on the house was the girl’s loud cough and Aragon’s sweet voice whispering that she was going to be okay while holding her close and caressing her back. Ten minutes passed and Bessie finally stopped coughing.

“Lina” She whimpered, her voice was weaker than before, and now raspy.

“I’m not going anywhere, estrellita, I promise.” Aragon reassured her, kissing her hairline.

“I’m scared. I don’t wanna die.” The girl said and she shook her head.

“I’m not going to let that happen, cariño, you’re going to stay with me.” Catalina sounded so sure, but inside she was terrified. What if Bessie’s body was giving up and dying, the same way it did centuries ago? No, she couldn’t think about that, not right now. So she hugged her closer, letting the girl curl up on her lap, her small and sweaty body shaking with fear and weakness as she nuzzled her chest. “Do you think you can try to get some sleep? It might make you feel better.”

“But what if I stop breathing?” Bessie asked her, her voice filled with worry.

“You won’t. But I’ll be right here.” Catalina told her. “Do you want me to sing your lullaby?” when they came back to life, Bessie had constant nightmares and the woman had discovered that the Spanish version of Twinkle, twinkle little star calmed her down and put her back to sleep. That’s where the nickname came from.

“Please…” she said and Aragon smiled softly.

“Estrellita, ¿dónde estás?/Me pregunto quién serás/En el cielo o en el mar/Un diamante de verdad/Estrellita, ¿dónde estás?/Me pregunto quién serás/Cuando el Sol se ha ido ya/Cuando nada brilla más/Tú nos muestras tu brillar/Brillas, brillas sin parar/Estrellita, ¿dónde estás?/Me pregunto quién serás” After she finished the song, Bessie was already asleep, her breathing still shaken and weak, but calmer. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the room, or put her back down on the bed, resorting to just let her sleep on her lap, leaning on the pillows. She mumbled a few other lullabies, hoping they would calm her down and make her body go back to normal. She couldn’t lose her, she wouldn’t bare it. She couldn’t protect her on their last lives, but she wouldn’t let anything happen to her again.

A few hours passed and they stayed like that. Aragon didn’t dare to fall asleep, too scared of what would happen if she did, so she waited for the others to get home so someone could watch her. When they got there, Anne and Maggie perused her into going to eat something, changing places with Maggie, who stayed on their shared room, paying close attention to her. Still, after a few minutes, Catalina came back to the room, the unsettling feeling still with her. Something was wrong with her little girl and she didn’t know what it was, but she was going to do what she could to find out.

She slept in Bessie’s room, while Maggie went to hers. Well, she spent the night in Bessie’s room. She barely got one hour of sleep, too scared that if anything happened she wouldn’t notice if she wasn’t awake. And there she was, watching her sleep, the sharp breaths cutting her heart like shards of glasses, but it was better that the agonizing seconds when she didn’t breathe. Catalina was waiting for her to wake up, so they could go to the Emergency Room that had all of their charts, so the doctors had a bit more of insight. The thing is, waking up a tired and sick teenager isn’t an easy task, and she didn’t want to disturb her, so she waited. She waited until 7am, when Bessie’s 8th coughing fit woke her up, causing the panicked girl to come to her senses, struggling even more to breathe with the sudden way of being woken.

“It’s okay, estrellita, you’re okay.” She repeated the fraise over and over again, until Blount stopped coughing. “There we go. You’re doing great, querida.”

“It hurts, Lina.” She was crying, maybe from all the coughing, maybe from pain, or maybe even from fear, most likely all three. “Make it stop, please.” She sounded desperate.

“Do you think you can get ready? I’m taking you to the doctor’s, is that okay?” Catalina told her and watched as she nodded, before helping her get up. “Do you need any help?”

“I think I can do it…” the girl said and Aragon gave her a small smile.

“I’ll be just in my room.” She told her before going down the hallway and getting in her room, sitting on the bed.

“How is she?” Anne sat beside her, getting her hand.

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. She’s scared and in pain and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just- I can’t lose her, Anne, I can’t.” she broke down, letting Boleyn hold her as she cried.

“She’s strong, and medicine today is so much better, she’s going to be okay.” She kissed her head, stroking the back of her hand. “I heard you’re taking her to the hospital. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know how long we’ll be there. I don’t think we’re going to do the show.” Aragon said and Anne nodded.

“Of course not. I’ll call and see who can go in for you.” She smiled.

“Thank you, Anne.”

“Anything you need, babe.” She said before, her hand a squeeze and kissing her cheek before going out of the room. Catalina changed quickly, getting a few things before going back to Bessie’s room, seeing her sat down on her bed.

“Hey. Do you think you can eat anything?” she asked the girl, who shook her head as a negative, staring into nothing. She got into the room, taking the backpack she was holding. “Can I take it?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Thank you.” The teen said quietly and got up, stumbling a bit.

“Careful, mi amor. Let me help you.” Aragon guided her down stairs and into the car, putting her backpack on the back seat.

“Wait, Lina? Can you get Sky on my bag?” Bessie asked quietly and Catalina gave her the stuffed elephant and went to the driver’s seat.

They got to the hospital in a few minutes, going to the children’s E.R., passing in triage relatively fast. Bessie was rushed to see a doctor, who, as soon as she saw her, did a quick exam and took her to one of the side rooms, where she ordered a bag of saline and IV nutrition, and an oxygen tank. The girl looked a bit confused with what was going on, but let a nurse put the IV line and oxygen cannula in her without any protest. Catalina sat on the chair beside her, stoking her hair.

“Are you feeling better, estrellita?” she asked her after half an hour.

“I feel like I can breathe better, but it still hurts. A lot.” Bessie answered, and as if in cue, she started coughing profusely, quietly crying out in pain as she sat up.

“Shh, it’s okay, cariño. Get it all out, I’m here.” Aragon said, rubbing her back. With each cough, her heart got tighter, and she felt like she was going to break down. It was all too familiar, the symptoms lined up and she looked so weak. Bessie’s already small and pale body looked even more fragile, the tips of her fingers and her lips were turning a purple-ish blue and the monitors that were attached to her didn’t show numbers the queen liked. When she stopped coughing, the girl whimpered in pain and curled up on herself, holding on to her stuffed animal for dear life, and she stayed like that, not moving, the wires attached to her tangling on each other, until the doctor came in.

“How are we now?” she asked with a small smile, taking the stethoscope from its place on her pocket and putting it on her ears. “Can you sit up for me, sweetheart?” she asked and Bessie slowly got up.

“She’s been having a few coughing fits every while, says she still feels a lot of pain.” Catalina told her, and she nodded.

“Take a deep breath, please.” She asked and Bessie tried, but started coughing midway through it. “Can you do it again?” that repeated a few more times. “You can lay back down if you want to.” The girl nodded and went back to her previous position, burring her head on the pillow. “Alright. Elizabeth’s situation is a bit… unconventional, to say the least, but I talked to a few doctors who had seen a ten of you before and we concluded that she most likely has a lot of scar tissue on her lungs, which makes it harder to breathe.”

“So she has scars, but inside of her?” Catalina asked, trying to see if she was understanding.

“Yes, we think she does, we still have to do a CT scan to confirm, but is probable. But the problem with this type of scar is that it obstructs the passage of air, making it harder for her to breathe.” The doctor told her and she nodded.

“But why didn’t it show up later?” Aragon looked at the small girl on the bed, her heart filled with worry.

“Well, we still need to do a few tests to see, but I think it can be because it’s progressing. Has she had other lung problems these recent years?”

“She had a few cases of bronchitis on the first couple of years we were back.” She remembered the nights she spent awake, too scared to leave the girl’s side, fearing she might stop breathing at any second; nights just like the previous.

“Alright. We’ll see how the scans and exams come out and then see how we’ll treat it.” The doctor said and left the room.

“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?” Bessie’s weak voice was filled with emotion, though it seemed like she was trying to hide it. “I don’t wanna die. I got a second chance, I just wanna be normal.” She whispered and Catalina caressed her head.

“You’re not going to die, mi amor. I promise.” She said. “And I’ll be with you, whatever happens.”

“If I die…” Bessie started, but Aragon opened her mouth to speak. “Please listen, Lina. If I die, I have a hard drive on my wardrobe. It has a few songs I wrote, I want you to listen to it. I saved a few videos too. If anything happens, I want you to keep it.” She looked up at her and Catalina kissed her forehead.

“Alright, I’ll do that.” She said and hugged the girl. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you before, but I’m going to do everything I can now, I promise, estrellita. I love you so much, Bessie, my little girl.” She buried her head further on her chest.

“Mamá?” she tried and Catalina nodded.

“I’m here, cariño, I’m here.” She reassured her.

“I love you too. You couldn’t do anything back then, I don’t blame you.” Bessie said, and curled up further into Aragon’s chest, crying out in pain once more.

“Shh, don’t try to speak, save your breath.” She said and started mumbling to their lullaby.

They spent a while like that, until a nurse came to take the girl to CT, leaving the queen alone with her thoughts. Not being able to do anything, she texted the others, giving a small summary of what was going on. She felt so lost, not knowing what was going on or how she could help was crushing her. The minutes felt like hours and she was doing her best not to cry. Finally, Bessie came back with the nurse and scans, followed by the doctor.

“So, I saw Elizabeth’s scans, and she does have severe scaring on her lungs, and she has something called hypoxemic lung failure.” She turned to the girl. “From what you’ve told me, you’ve probably had it for a while. Basically what it means is that the scaring on your lungs obstructs the oxygen passing, causing you to feel tired and out of breath.” The doctor told them.

“But why didn’t it show symptoms before? Why did it show up so suddenly? Wouldn’t it be slow?” Aragon asked her.

“Well, that’s a good question. Have you been feeling more anxious, tired or confused? Maybe restlessness, sweating easier?” she looked at the girl.

“I- maybe? I don’t know… I thought it was just fatigue or stress, but now that you said it I’m not sure…” she answered quietly.

“Bessie! What was the agreement we made in order for you to do the show?” Catalina didn’t sound mad, she sounded worried but still firm.

“I’m sorry. I love doing it so much, and it’s going to open so many doors, I’ve already got universities that want me…” the teen started but Lina gave her a small smile and shook her head.

“I’m not mad, mija, I’m worried. But we’ll talk later, okay?” Bessie nodded and they turned back to the doctor.

“I’d like to admit you, mainly for precaution, at least a few days before we settle with your treatments.” She said.

“Alright.” Catalina’s voice was shaky, scared, but she knew it was the right thing to do. “We’ll get someone to drop off our things.” She nodded and looked at Elizabeth, caressing her forehead.

“I’ll send a nurse to take you to the room and get paperwork sorted out.” The doctor smiled and left the room, leaving the two alone.

“I’m sorry, Mamá. I didn’t know it was bad. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Bessie curled up more to Aragon’s side, who hugged her.

“You could never do that, mija. I’m so proud of you, no matter what. What other teenager juggles school, college applications and four shows a week while getting used to the modern world and having to relearn so much?” she looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to be okay, Bessie.”

[loveforpreserumsteve]

End of the Line (Pre-Serum Alpha!Steve and Pregnant Omega!Bucky Modern Bus Trip A/B/O AU)

Four:

It used to take a lot to frighten Bucky. Back when he was a pup, him and Becca always tried to out-scare each other. Making it a game by hiding in a closet or just around the corner and popping out to scream, "Gotcha!" Scaring their alpha mother, Winnie, more than each other, and causing her to affectionately call them little monsters and asking, "Ya tryin' to put me in an early grave?!" While their omega father, George, giggled and playfully threatened, "Do I need to send you off to bubbe and zayde?" Eventually, getting the game banned when they popped out at Mandy, causing her to tumble backwards and crack her head open on the dining room table.

Ghost stories shared in the middle of the night as they camped outside in their backyard in Indiana. Where the stars could always be seen and were more fascinating than any tale of a hooked killer. Screaming in pleasant horror when their freshly-presented alpha brother, Teddy, and his friends would shake their tent late at night, just to mess with them.

Sneaking into Teddy's teenage room to borrow one of his favorite slasher flicks for him and Becca to watch late at night after everyone had fallen asleep. Only to then terrify his twin the following nights by hiding in her closet to pull another, "Gotcha!" out for old time's sake.

All through his adolescence, Bucky never feared anything. Wasn't afraid of running into the bullies who called him a freak for being born with a congenital amputation, the bullies who took his prosthetic to expose the stump that stopped forming in utero where the elbow should've been. Didn't have an issue sticking up for omegas smaller than him and walking them safely home. Absolutely no terror in him when he said goodbye to his alpha twin sister and watched as Becca flew off to New York, leaving him behind with the rest of their family. Not even once wondering if today would be his last day in this world that wasn't safe for an omega.

Until he met Brock.

At 21, Bucky's naivety emboldened him to believe he knew the horrors of the world and could change them. Allowed him to falsely trust one of the worst monsters he couldn't have ever imagined. Encouraged him to ignore red flags as he fell for the one person to ever terrify him to his very core.

In hindsight, Bucky probably should've realized the type of alpha Brock was. But at 21, fresh out of college with an associate's degree in nursing and his first night in the ER, led him to become smitten while helping patching up the handsome alpha. A police officer with a busted lip and a cut in his eyebrow that needed seven stitches, that Bucky assisted with.

"Some alphas just don't know how to handle their tempers," Brock had flirted. Winking the best he could with one swollen eye and an ice pack held above the other.

That was all it took.

Maybe it was because Bucky was lonely -- despite his false assurances to well-meaning family and friends. Perhaps it was because Bucky feared his biological clock was soon to run out. Possibly it was just up to timing, since he was in a celebratory state of mind and everything had been going his way and Brock smelled like fresh spearmint gum popped into the mouth of a hopeful crush in the basement of his parents' house.

Maybe it was all of it. Or none of it.

Not that it mattered now.

It was a fast courtship. Brock sending flowers to Bucky's apartment that made his roommates jealous. Bucky stopping by the police station with a hot meal when Brock was working particularly long hours on a difficult case. It all progressed so smoothly that Bucky was afraid that if he'd pinched himself, he'd wake up.

Although it wasn't a cinematic masterpiece, it was enough to convince Bucky that he'd found his happily ever after. Even if Brock refused to mate him. Claiming that in his line of work, it'd be dangerous. He was looking out for Bucky. Had Bucky's best interest in mind. Then, having their unborn pup's safety as his highest concern.

Of course, when something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

They had been arguing over moving. Brock claiming that Phoenix would have better opportunities. He'd be able to provide for them better. Bucky pleading to not do this. Not now. He didn't want to leave his home. His friends. His family. Didn't want to leave when their baby would be joining the world soon.

At first, not even understanding that Brock had popped him harshly in the mouth until he tasted blood. Bucky couldn't believe that this man would do something like that. Didn't understand how an alpha could lay hands on the omega carrying their pup. Not believing that the person he fell in love with could be so cruel. Especially not an alpha who dealt with so many cases just like this, and claimed to hate the scum who abused their mates.

Bucky never imagined he'd be in the same position as so many omegas that he cared for in the ER, either.

That night. That first night, was one that still haunted Bucky. How the anger had rolled off Brock, nearly choking Bucky. The fury that burned in the alpha's eyes, and brought forth Bucky's omega instincts to protect his young. The mix of emotions when Brock used the one foolproof tactic he had, and ordered with his Voice that they were moving.

The threats were what cycled through his head more than the alpha commands though. Even years later, he could still hear them all as though they had just been spoken.

"If you don't learn how to not push my buttons, next time will be worse."

"If you don't shut that baby up, I'll give 'em something to cry about."

"Teach these pups some manners, or I will."

"If you ever try to leave, I'll hunt you down and make you watch me kill them before killing you."

Jerking awake, Bucky gasped as though being physically choked. There were no hands on him though. Just a nightmare. Not that that did anything for the distress running through him, causing the fetus inside him to furiously kick at him from the inside.

Gathering his wits, Bucky realized that Noah wasn't on his lap. Wasn't in his arms. Assuming he'd be curled up in the seat beside him with Maisie, Bucky turned to look at the empty seat.

Fear rose up his throat like bile and he quickly turned to look at the rest of the bus. The rest of the empty bus.

Panicking now, Bucky noticed that the bus had stopped. The sun was shining. The passengers were gone. And Bucky immediately pushed himself from his seat.

Holding his abdomen, Bucky waddled down the aisle as quickly as he could. Nearly falling down the steps as he exited the bus. Blinking through the morning sunlight to find they were outside a gas station.

Pushing open the door to the convenience store, Bucky ignored the concerned stares of the customers and employees. Scenting the air to find his pups. The Bucky-pup scent leading him towards the middle of the store.

There, Maisie and Noah were holding onto Steve's pants as he read the nutrition label on the back of a Rice Krispies bar. Immediately, tears started streaming down his face. Tears from relief knowing that his babies were with a responsible, kind, alpha. Relief knowing that they were away from their living nightmare.

Steve's attention snapped from the sticky, sugary treat to Bucky. Eyes wide in his concern as the turned fully to approach the frightened, hormonal omega. Bucky's pups, spotting him, let go of Steve's pants and took off for their father. Instead, choosing to hug Bucky's legs while they stared up at him with a mix of fear and confusion in their eyes as distress tainted their own scents.

"Daddy okay?" Noah asked as tears started filling the grey-blue eyes that he inherited from Bucky.

Nodding, Bucky smoothed his son's brown curls and sincerely reassured, "Daddy's okay, baby. I just had a bad dream."

"Hugs help bad dreams," Maisie repeated, just the way Bucky assured her whenever she woke up from a nightmare.

"They sure do, sweetie," Bucky confirmed, wiping away his daughter's escaped tears with his advanced prosthetic's thumb.

Fresh, crisp green apples caused Bucky to redirect his attention back to the petite blond alpha. A guilty expression was on Steve's handsome face as he apologized, "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to wake you, but the kids were hungry and we all needed to use the restroom, and I --"

"It's okay," Bucky smiled. Sniffling, he wiped his own wet face and sincerely thanked Steve, "I appreciate your help."

Alpha pride bloomed in Steve, stretching out to Bucky and causing Steve's scent to become nearly mouthwatering as he assured, "Next time, I'll wake you."

"Thank you," Bucky softly accepted. To stop himself from staring at Steve, Bucky turned his attention to his children. Looking on either side of his protruding abdomen, Bucky tucked Maisie's wild brown waves behind her tiny ear, and ran his fingers through Noah's curls as he prompted, "You guys are hungry?"

Perking at the hint of content in Bucky's scent and soothing overtones of kind alpha from Steve, Maisie excitedly answered, "Steve found rice krippie bars."

"Rice Krispies," Bucky fondly corrected.

Glancing up at him, Bucky caught Steve shrugging. Sheepishly and with an attractive blush coloring his cheeks, Steve explained, "I'm not sure what young kids eat."

"Krippie yummy, daddy," Noah pleaded, tugging at Bucky's pants.

Bucky wanted to give his babies the world. He had failed them in so much of their young lives already, and it wasn't even that much of an indulgent. So, he caved. Well, half-caved, "You can have them for a snack later."

As though it was the best news they had ever heard, the toddlers cheered and raced the short distance to Steve. Hopping up and down in their attempt to grab the treats from Steve. Briefly, Bucky worried that they might overstep and upset him the way they upset Brock. Thankfully though, Steve simply grinned down at them with a tenderness that tugged at Bucky's heartstrings and earned a kick of approval from the unborn baby.

[buckthegrump]

Lifeline - 5

Lifeline (n): a thing on which someone or something depends or which provides a means of escape from a difficult situation. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1777

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping, angst, idk morgan being amazing

A/n: ya know i’m the worst at keeping to a schedule so

Three weeks later.

It was cold, too cold. And dark.

The air in the room was still, so still, it was stuffy. It was so hard to breathe in that room but she had to keep breathing. Just in and out.

For a while, she screamed, for help, at her captor, just to make noise but after a while, her throat hurt and there came a time when she opened her mouth to scream but the only thing that came out was a weak croak that was barely loud enough to reach her ears.

Y/n ran her tongue over the fake tooth that she knew held the tracking device. It had become her only source of comfort in the past. . .weeks? Months? She’d lost count of the days, thanks to the lack of windows and schedule. 

It didn’t help that she tried to stay awake as much as possible, but eventually, her body would give up and pass out so she’d lose track of time, not that she had a great grasp on that before.

The only thing that she knew for sure, was that every few hours a man she didn’t recognize would come in and depending on his mood would either just beat her or if he was in a good mood he would gently touch her arms or her cheeks. It was never anywhere else but it still sent a shiver down her spine and she wanted it to stop.

She wanted out. And if her tracker was still in, why was she still here?

Then she heard footsteps. There were just the tiniest bit of lights trickling through the cracks of the door, it was the only time she got any light at all. She looked down at her filthy clothes still in the outfit she’d planned on wearing on her date with Bucky.

Bucky. She wanted to cry at just the thought of him. She often wondered if he thought she’d stood him up, she would’ve. 

How long ago was that?

The only clue she ever got as to how much time had passed since she got here was the incessant grumbling of her stomach. 

The man walked over to where Y/n sat in a chair, arms and legs bound to it and sat down in the chair across from her. He fed her a piece of bread and gave her some water. She could already tell from the way he was feeding her that he wasn’t going to beat her, at least not this visit.

His hazel eyes and clean-shaven face would haunt Y/n for the rest of her days if she were to ever get out of here.

She’d tried asking him why he brought her here during those first few days but he only backhanded her and walked out of the room. Soon she realized that when she asked he wouldn’t feed her and if she was going to fight her way out she needed all the strength she could get, even if her only source of nutrition was a stale piece of white bread. 

She hadn’t asked in a while and she’d already finished her food and water, she could risk it and do it now while he was in a good mood. Or she could wait, but wait for what?

“Why did you take me?” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper and it didn’t sound like her, at least not to her own ears. She could feel her mouth moving but the voice the rung through her ears sounded hoarse and battered.

The unnamed man looked at her and tilted his head slightly. He cupped her cheek with his hand and it took everything in her not to flinch away.

“Because,” he said, “You saved me and it was my turn to save you.”

“From what?”

“It doesn’t matter, your safe now and once everything calms down upstairs, we can finally be together.” The smile on his face made Y/n want to puke but she held it together. He got up from his seat and walked back through the door closing it tight and locker her back into the darkness.

* * *

Bucky could tell that Tony was beating himself up about the chip not working. And after weeks of no new leads, Bucky was starting to lose hope. 

The longer it took to find her the less likely she would come back alive.

“Uncle Bucky?” Morgan asked while he was making her pancakes. Both Pepper was trying to coax Tony out of the lab telling him that there was nothing he could do if he didn’t take care of himself.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Is Aunt Y/n gonna come home?” Morgan looked up from her coloring book very briefly to gauge Bucky’s reaction, to his credit the question caught him off guard but he didn’t show it.

“I hope so.”

“Is that why my daddy’s been in the lab a lot lately?” Morgan had gone back to her coloring.

“Yes, he’s just taking it a little hard because the thing he built to make sure that we don’t get lost isn’t working for Y/n.” Bucky flipped the perfectly golden pancake onto a similar looking on that was on a plate and slid it over to Morgan, who abandoned her coloring all together for food.

“Why?” Morgan took the syrup and started drenching her pancakes in it before Bucky reached over and took it away.

“We think she might be too far underground.”

“She’s not in space?”

“If she is Aunt Carol will find her.”

“And destroy the person who took her,” Morgan said and slammed her fist on the counter.

“Ok kid, let's eat the pancakes please.”

Morgan gave him a stink eye, very similar to her fathers but after her pancakes nevertheless. She was over halfway done when she spoke again.

“Uncle Bucky?” 

Bucky had taken to cleaning up the mess and was in the middle of washing the dishes but paused and turned off the faucet to hear the girl.

“Yeah,” he looked at her. Her big brown eyes bore into his blue ones as if she was looking into her soul. He got the feeling that this kid was going to rule the world someday.

“Do you love Aunt Y/n?”

Bucky sighed and gave her a small sad smile. “Yeah, I think I do.”

* * *

Y/n was chastising herself because she was an idiot, well she was going to chalk this whole thing up to being malnourished and tired and not to mention so dirty. Because if she was at full brain capacity she would’ve realized sooner that the reason her tracker wasn’t working was because she was too far underground.

So now she just had to figure out how to get upstairs. How should she play this?

She was in no position to fight her way out and after studying her captor she realized just how built he was and normally she could take him but she was too weak for that right now.

But the least she could do is try to get up closer to the surface. 

Tapping her fingers against the metal of the chair she waited. Waited for the time to pass and prayed to whatever higher power there was that her abductor was in a good mood when he came back, not only because she needed to get out of this room but because he’d just beaten her the last time he was there.

Apparently, luck was on her side or she needed to start going to church because when he came back he was in a good mood. And she couldn’t be sure but it seemed like it was the best time to execute her plan.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” she whispered in the stranger’s voice, “But can I use the bathroom?”

The man chewed on his bottom lip. Before he could give an answer Y/n continued.

“I promise I won’t try anything and you can even keep my hands tied I just-  I would like to use the bathroom and maybe wash my hands?”

The man let out a sigh and got down on his knees and started to undo her restraints. Y/n wanted to kick him in the face when one of her legs were finally free but that wasn’t the point of this. 

It was her unofficial superpower, reading people and being able to get what she wanted. Although Sam often joked that the only person she was never able to read was Bucky to which Steve would counter it was because she had emotional stakes in being wrong. But she couldn’t think about them right now, she needed to focus.

“I’m going to blindfold you though,” he told her before he released her hands.

“Ok,” Y/n agreed without hesitation. She didn’t need her hands all she needed was out of this goddamn space. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rag and tied it around her eyes.

Her body was shaking when he undid her hand restraints and helped her to her feet. He guided her up the stairs and even though she was blindfolded, she could tell it got brighter. He only removed the blindfold when she was in the bathroom.

“Don’t try anything,” he warned and she nodded. After studying her a moment longer, he shut the door. 

Y/n looked at herself in the mirror and instantly wished she hadn’t. Her face looked lifeless and her eyes? Her eyes looked empty and void. She pushed herself away from the sink and looked out the very small window she would never be able to fit through. Outside. They were on the coastline. 

She must not have been as far underground as she thought but there was something about that room that blocked the signal but it didn’t matter. She’d been out of the room long enough now for the signal to go through. She hoped.

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Tony snapped his head up and looked at the computer screen. That alert meant that there was a signal from Y/n’s tracker. And sure as day there it was right there on the coast of Massachusetts, a dot where Y/n supposedly was.

“FRIDAY get a lock on that signal and send the coordinates to the jet,” Tony yelled afraid that the dot would disappear as quickly as it had appeared.

“Already done boss,” the AI responded.

Tony ran down as quickly as he could to the common room where Bucky and Sam were entertaining Morgan.

“I found her.” And for the first time in weeks, Bucky felt hope.

[toomanysurveys9]

Has anyone ever made fun of your taste in music? yes. jacob thinks it’s hilarious to do that.

What’s your favorite season of the year? autumn. and spring.

Do you have pop-tarts in your house right now? we do not. we don’t have them very often. and when we do, they don’t last very long. because lilli, rose, and erin LOVE them.

Is anyone’s birthday coming up? my grandpa’s is at the end of the month. and so is my other grandpa’s girlfriend’s. there are a handful of other birthdays in there between now and then, but they don’t matter as much to me at this point.

Does someone owe you over twenty dollars? no one owes me any money.

Do you remember who you liked in grade eight? jacob.

When was the last time you burned any part of your body? several months ago.

Have you ever overflown a bathtub? close, but no.

Are you dressing up for Halloween this year? nah. i’ll just dress up my kiddos and take them.

Have you ever called somebody dollface? no.

If I gave you ten dollars, what would you spend it on? i’d probably save it. i hoard cash when i get it until we need it.

Have you ever thrown food at a stranger in a movie theater? no.

What are you most excited about right now? nothing that i can think of. i’m more stressed about everything.

Does / did either of your parents serve in the military? nope.

Are you somewhat of a perfectionist? sometimes.

Do you like sour candy? it depends on my mood, but not lately.

Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? it’s way past that. we didn’t really get a honeymoon. we ended up going to some meeting thing my dad wanted us to go to with him the day after we got married, and then a week or two later, we stayed overnight in a hotel so we could swim and get a day and night away from my grandparents, but we stayed in our city.

Do you have Verizon? xfinity.

What do you do to stay awake when you’re tired? depends. usually i try to drink something with caffeine. maybe watch tv or something.

Are all nighters something you have grown used to? depends what you consider an all nighter. for instance, i always stay awake until about 1 or 2 in the morning, sometimes later, these days. i don’t think i could stay awake until 6 or later anymore, if that’s what you consider an all nighter.

Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? i do not. i don’t even own any.

Do you wear your shoes around the house? not usually.

Is there ever a time that you enjoy cold showers? i hate cold showers.

What clothes are you most comfortable in? jeans and a tshirt.

Is there anybody you’re not ashamed to tell anything to? probably not.

What has changed most about you in the past year? i’m more exhausted. lol.

Are you good at painting nails? no. which sucks for eliana in the future.

Smoothies or slushies? i love both, but smoothies are my favorite, if they’re made with real fruit.

Are you good at filling silence in awkward situations? nooo. i’m usually the reason there is awkward silence.

Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? i don’t like any veggies enough for that.

Elaborate on a way you have volunteered? we used to clean trash off the side of the road once or twice a year at our old church. and in college, i volunteered for a couple different classes - one with logan center, and the other with pet refuge. pet refuge was my favorite.

Do you use a full length mirror daily? i never use one.

Can you walk in heels, or do you feel awkward in them? i feel awkward in them.

Any TV shows you sit down weekly to watch? i did for the masked singer when it was on.

Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? i mean. i guess. it’s more our lack of a sex life at the moment, which is kind of pissing him off. but ya know. if i had more help with our kids, i might be a little less tired and touched out.

Even if you don’t like politics, do you still have opinions on the issues? well, yeah.

Are you one to sneak food into movie theaters? i have before. but i usually don’t.

Will you tell someone if there’s something in their teeth? yes.

Do you ever actually make your bed? very rarely.

Do you make an effort to eat healthy? i could definitely do better.

How are things between the person you like / love / are with? not super great lately.

Where did you sleep last night? my bed.

The last time you kissed someone, what color of shirt were they wearing? romantically? he was shirtless. actually kissed? he’s wearing a mostly blue shirt, but it does have some other colors because of the design and words..

What year do / did you graduate? high school in 2012, and college in 2016.

What kind of booze did you last take shots of? vodka.

What’s something you want to purchase next time you’re at the mall? books. i need more books.

Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? yeah.

If you could see any musician live, front row, who would you choose? luke combs is my favorite lately. If you had to choose between a million dollars or to be able to change a regret? a million dollars.

Are you taller than your mom? nope. she’s taller.

Have you ever been around someone who was high? many times.

Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? at night.

Think back to June. Were you in a relationship? yeah.

What’s so special about what you’re wearing? absolutely nothing.

Do you have any ‘naughty’ photos on your phone? i do not. it’s pretty much all pictures of my kids.

Could you handle living with a male roommate? there are four guys (including wyatt) living in this house currently sooo...

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? it’s not even 10 yet.

Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? he doesn’t have a phone. he’s two.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? eh. jacob might be losing those for me.

What do you miss the most about your past? not worrying about finances and shit.

When is the next time you will kiss someone? romantically? probably tonight. before i take the kids to bed.

Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? yeah.

Plan on getting drunk or high tonight? nope. i’m good.

In the past week, have you cried hysterically? no.

Do you think you’ll actually live a happy life with somebody? i mean. i hope things get better...

Are you on birth control? no. because we don’t really have sex. when we do, we use condoms.

Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? no.

Last time you were really happy? this morning.

Do you tend to fall for players? nope.

Why aren’t you in ‘love’ with your last ex? i was never in love with richard.

Have you ever asked a boy for advice? yeah.

Are you wrapped in a blanket? no. i’m downstairs.

Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? no. that never happens.

Have you spoken to your mother today? Father? my mom, yes. my dad leaves for work before the kids and i get up.

[whatthehelltimespell]

Only Time Will Tell Chapter Three

Title: Only Time Will Tell Chapter 3/? Rated Teen-ish By they way I actually did research into different traits for development of a four year old and Cody was spot on!!!  So I tried to stick with that with the emotions and things like that.  I did research into older kids as well, because I plan on helping the character mature mentally and emotionally over the course of a few months.  Not sure about romance yet, but I’m already against anything really sexual considering his mental age.  (I found Michael to either be asexual or definitely demi-sexual, one or the other.  Like he could use sexuality to bend others to his will, but he himself didn’t feel it, if that makes any sense.)  Plus, isn’t his ending mental age - before the episode from hell - like between 7 and 9 or something, so at the most he may be curious in my story, but . . . yeah, no.

The night Michael spent at Elizabeth's was uneventful. They played a card game and then they both went to bed. She had a guest room and that was where she put him. She waited until he was good and asleep before going to sleep herself. She'd locked her door, just in case, but nothing happened. Michael was still in bed when she woke up the next morning.

It gave her plenty of time to get breakfast started. Since she had a guest, she made bacon, eggs, and biscuits instead of just enjoying a bowl of cereal. A sleepy-eyed Michael with bedhead came into the kitchen as the smell of frying bacon filled the house. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds before deciding he was too tired to stand and ended up plopping down on one of the chairs at the table.

She held back a grin. The only thing he was missing was a blanket trailing behind him to complete the picture of a rumpled kid rejecting the idea of being awake and out of bed. Some anti-Christ, she thought as she rolled her eyes. Mallory and Constance really had it wrong.

"Good morning."

"Mm," he harrumphed.

"I feel ya. I hate mornings too."

That got a smile from him at least.

"I actually usually like mornings," he admitted. "I still don't feel great."

He was probably still drained. She'd never met anyone as highly sensitive as he was – then again . . . four-year olds did get their feelings hurt very easily. She still couldn't believe she was even considering the idea that he'd grown up overnight, but she could see it, she really could. It was impossible, but . . . Michael did have childlike ways about him.

She guessed she would learn more later when they had their meeting with Constance. ---------- Once Elizabeth was done cooking, she piled everything into containers and set it on the table. She got out two plates and all the silverware needed and then sat down across from Michael. She gave one plate to Michael before putting the utensils where they needed to be.

"Help yourself," she said.

She learned that Michael loved food and loved eating, but she didn't know if it was because he actually liked it or if his body was trying to keep up with itself. Even if he was stuck with four-year old traits, his body very much was not. He would need as much nutrition as an actual teenage boy did. He seemed to really like the biscuits, which were just the ones that came in a can that you popped in the oven for about twenty minutes.

"So . . . when do you want to go see your grandma?"

Michael paused as he was beginning to scoop up some egg and then put his fork on his plate. He shrugged. He shut himself off almost immediately and Elizabeth realized again how much it had hurt him to be kicked out of his house. The woman he'd spent his life with had abandoned him.

"I'll be there with you, Michael. Maybe we can figure something out. Okay?"

He nodded, but she could tell he wasn't certain there was anything to figure out.

"Anyway, eat your food. We don't have to worry about your grandma until we go see her." ---------- Elizabeth and Michael went to see Constance right after breakfast. Mallory was there also and Elizabeth had a few things she wanted to say to both of the women before allowing Michael into the conversation. They left Michael in the living room while they went into the kitchen to talk, much like they had the day before.

"Is the . . . body gone?"

"Yes," Constance said.

"Okay, good. I have two requests for our conversation today."

Both women seemed a little suspicious of what Elizabeth would say. She didn't know why. If anything, she should be suspicious of them.

"I didn't tell Michael about what you guys planned to do to him, so don't mention it. Right now, he only thinks I saved him from getting run over and nothing else. Not who did it and not that you meant to."

Mallory didn't seem to even have to think before agreeing to that. Elizabeth was just happy she wouldn't have to argue her point.

"Second thing is . . . don't mention the anti-Christ thing. Okay? You tell him that and he might not let us help him. He might not even care if he does bad things anymore because . . . well . . . anti-Christ. In fact, I don't want to hear anything negative about him because there are only so many times you can hear how much of a monster you are before you just become one. From all I know of what you told me . . . he needs positive reinforcement in his life."

Constance and Mallory both seemed to be thinking it over and then Constance asked, "Miss Garnet, how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"How is it you can afford to live on your own here? It's not cheap. Where is your money coming from?"

She shrugged. Her home life was nothing to brag about but she wasn't against talking about it either.

"My father is a lawyer and my mother is a doctor. I found the house and they helped me with a down payment; I've had a job since I was seventeen, which helped. I'm just getting settled now. I make money delivering groceries. I plan on finding something else in the near future and then starting school next year. Psychology will be my major."

"Is that why you think you can help him?" Mallory asked, skepticism very apparent in her voice.

"I don't know if I can help him at all," Elizabeth said, "But I will at least try to lead him the right way." ---------- Michael stayed in the living room for what had to be a good fifteen minutes until he was invited into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway until Gramma gestured to a chair at the table. Elizabeth and his Gramma sat down, but the other girl, Mallory, remained standing. He noticed she kept her eyes on him and he didn't like it, really. It was like she expected him to snap and do something horrible.

"Michael, it's okay," Elizabeth said.

The way she spoke made him think that it really was, that she wouldn't let anything hurt him, especially not the other girl in the room. He chose to sit beside her. Gramma might not want him to sit by her, and he didn't really know Mallory. He'd only met her that day when they'd arrived; he didn't even know why she was there.

"Michael," his gramma said, gaining his attention. She wasn't as upset as she had been yesterday, which had to be a good sign. "You know why I made you leave yesterday."

He did and he didn't, but he wasn't going to argue.

"You said you knew you were doing bad things and that you didn't know why you kept doing them."

"I don't know why."

"I think I do," Elizabeth said. "Your grandma told me about how you grew up overnight. That you are basically a four-year old in a sixteen-year old body."

Michael was hesitant to let her know that was true. How much weirdness could she take before she would want him gone like Gramma?

"As a four-year old, you will lash out when you're angry or scared. Like I said last night . . . you were defending yourself against that priest. You could have done it a different way, but . . . you were defending yourself."

"Yes!" Michael agreed. "That's what I said yesterday before –"

"She shouldn't have kicked you out," Elizabeth said, looking at Gramma. "I told you yesterday that Michael needs guidance. At that level of development – I'm speaking mentally, here – he has to have an adult lead him when he gets out of control. From what you said, you never did. Children need rules and boundaries. Some doctors even think they like them; it can make them feel safe because they know their parents, or whoever, care enough to set them."

Had Gramma ever given him rules or boundaries? He couldn't think of a time when she had. He didn't know if he wanted them.

"Mallory and your grandmother came up with a plan to help you, Michael."

Elizabeth gave him an encouraging smile and then gestured for Gramma to speak.

"It was Elizabeth who suggested it, actually," Gramma said. "She thinks she can help you if you stay with her for a while."

"Because you don't want me anymore."

"You'll still be able to see Constance," Elizabeth assured him. "Remember I live right down the street. You'll be able to come and go as you please."

"But your home will be my home?"

"Well, yes. That's why we're here, really. So you can bring some of your stuff with you."

"I – okay."

He really didn't mind. He couldn't. Elizabeth's house was the only one available to him at the moment, since Gramma didn't seem willing to let him come back permanently.

"Okay, so here are the rules."

Michael's shoulders tensed. He didn't like rules, not so much because they were rules but because he was sure he would end up breaking them. He always messed up, so it was sort of inevitable really.

"Relax, I only have two right now. That may change later, but right now I just want you to focus on not hurting or killing anyone or anything. Those are the most important things for me right now."

Oh. Michael was able to relax as Elizabeth had asked him to. Those weren't horrible rules at all and they were things he could remember because he never wanted to hurt anyone, it just sort of happened that way.

"I don't mean to."

"I think I believe you," Elizabeth said. "Still, it's something we're going to figure out, okay?"

"Okay. And . . . that's it?"

"For now."

"That doesn't seem too hard," Michael said and couldn't help but feel the warmth when Elizabeth smiled at him.

"I don't have anything a young boy would like at my house aside from a TV, so you need to pack up some of your stuff to take with us. Clothes, toys, games, whatever you might want."

He nodded but sat there until Elizabeth gave him leave to go. She wanted to talk to Gramma and Mallory again. ---------- Elizabeth watched Michael go up the stairs toward his room before turning to the other two women.

"How is he the anti-Christ? He's been nothing but nice and polite to me."

"You have yet to make him angry," Constance said.

"No. Mostly he's just been scared of being abandoned by me, which is understandable considering what happened yesterday."

"What happened once you took him home with you?" Mallory asked.

"There was a lot of crying. We ate pizza and watched TV. He fell asleep on the couch, and then I came over here. He was very upset when I got back because he woke up alone. He'd looked all over the house for me and when he couldn't find me, he went down into the basement and just . . . cried. That's where I found him."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't know who that man was in that thing you showed me, but it's not him. Or at least not yet. He hopefully won't ever be if I have anything to do with it. Psychologically, I think we can help him in as much as he'll allow us to."

"And if he doesn't allow us to?" Mallory asked.

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, what if he gets to a point where he no longer wants to be good? Or no longer questions why he isn't?"

She didn't know what to say. She couldn't imagine Michael any other way than he was right then.

"You've already grown attached, haven't you? It's not just because he's a boy; it's because he's Michael."

"Who is a child," Elizabeth claimed. "He's . . . there's something about him. I've always sensed it, the youngness of him, even before finding out his true age. And I feel he deserves a chance. He knows my rules. If he breaks them, then it will have been his choice and . . . I will let him go." ---------- It didn't take long for Michael to pack the things he wanted – mostly his video games and everything that went with it, and clothes because Miss Elizabeth had mentioned them – and he went back downstairs to find the three women in the living room instead of the kitchen.

Was Miss Elizabeth ready to go? He stood there, taking his cues from her. She didn't sit down, so he didn't either.

"We can leave whenever you're ready, Michael."

"Well, I'm – I was just waiting for you."

She gestured to the front door then and he went ahead of her. He stopped at the door and turned back to face his gramma.

"Goodbye, Gramma," he said. "I hope I can become what you want, so I can come back one day."

She didn't say anything, but Michael noticed that her eyes filled with water. That had to be a good sign.

He didn't know Mallory so he didn't speak to her, and he began to move again once Miss Elizabeth put a hand on his jacket-covered arm. It was her cue to let him know she was ready to go.

Once outside Michael didn't look back, not as he had the day before. He had somewhere to go now and he could visit with Gramma when he wanted. This wasn't a permanent thing; he would get control of himself. Gramma would let him back in.

"We're going to drop your stuff off at the house and then I have to go to the store. I wasn't expecting a house guest," Miss Elizabeth said. Her tone didn't lead him to believe that he was a burden in anyway. In fact, she sounded almost playful.

"Can I go with you? I've never really been to a store before."

He still wasn't too keen on being alone, being without an adult. And he really hadn't been a lot of places most people had. He'd been a baby when Gramma had first taken him from his parents – his mother had died and his father had never claimed him, so it wasn't like she'd kidnapped him or anything, really – and she'd kept him for the years it had taken him to get to the point he was now. He'd been kept in the house mostly, and he hadn't been able to go out much at all since he'd gotten bigger. How would he or Gramma explain who he was and how fast he'd grown?

"All the time you were with Constance, she never let you go to the store with her?"

Michael shrugged before swinging the bag he was holding up over his shoulder.

"Gramma never really went to the store either. There were others before you. Men mostly."

"Hm. Okay, then. And . . . how do you feel about going with me? Around people you don't know."

Michael stopped walking as he thought about it. He wasn't feeling great about it, really, but he wasn't staying by himself in that house that wasn't really his.

"I'll be with you, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I should be fine. Just don't leave me." ---------- Elizabeth owned a small Ford Focus that Michael's head almost reached the ceiling of when he was seated in it. She laughed when she realized. She should have known; he was almost a whole head taller than she was.

"Think about some stuff you like to eat on the way."

She assumed he did because he wasn't talkative at all on the way to the store. She had the music on low but she didn't think either one of them was actually listening. It was mostly just background noise for her, anyway.

She couldn't believe what she'd agreed to do. The whole anti-Christ thing aside – if that was even true; she still wasn't sure about it – she was taking in someone who was basically a child. She was agreeing to help teach him wrong from right. She had impulsively made that decision because she felt sorry for the boy sitting across from her in the passenger seat. She still kind of felt sorry for him – his grandmother had given him up easily and willingly, so of course she felt sorry for him. Everyone deserved someone that would stand by their side and fight for them. So that was what she would strive to be as long as he didn't resort to murder again.

Once at the store Elizabeth noticed just how anxious it made Michael feel to be in place where he didn't know everyone. He stuck to her side much like an actual child would its mother when around strangers. She was surprised he didn't just grab onto her arm and hide behind her. She didn't know if it was from being shy or afraid, but it was one of the two. He had social anxiety, though, that was for sure.

"Are you sure you're okay to be here?"

"I'm fine," he answered quickly.

"Mm-hm."

She grabbed a cart then began making her way further into the store. She was planning on getting only a few things, things that Michael wanted, because she had enough stuff for her already at her house.

"Do you like cereal?"

"The sweet kind," Michael answered.

"So the unhealthy kind then," she teased.

He looked down as if she had berated him and she realized just how unused to casual affection and positive reinforcement he must be if he didn't understand that she was just messing with him.

"Hey, it's okay. I don't really like cereal that isn't sweet either." She touched his arm briefly. "I'm even letting you pick it out."

He basically beamed a smile at her and she could practically feel the enthusiasm bouncing off of him at the prospect of him getting to pick out the cereal. If that was indicative to how easily it would be to make him happy and keep him that way, then she figured having him as a housemate wouldn't be hard at all.

As they walked up and down the aisles, she had Michael point out things that he liked. They couldn't get everything that day, but at least she would know in the future. She noticed that he was really into things that had a lot of sugar in it. She didn't know if that was because he was four years old or if that was just him, but she got a few things to snack on – Oreos, chocolate chip cookies, and ice cream – that was specifically for him.

She went through the check out line with more things than she had originally planned, and she was surprised when Michael helped take the bags to the car. He was actually pretty strong, which shouldn't have surprised her. He was about fifteen or sixteen physically, so the bags weren't a problem.

Once at home Elizabeth went about showing Michael where everything went in the kitchen. If he was going to be staying there, he would at least need to know where the dishes and silverware were. She would not be waiting on him hand and foot.

"Earlier you said that you didn't mean to hurt people," Elizabeth said. "What did you mean by that?"

Michael stopped what he was doing – putting the cookies on top of the fridge – and turned to her. He looked at the floor and shrugged as if he didn't know what to say.

"Is it maybe that you lash out? You get angry . . . or scared?"

Again, he shrugged, and after a few seconds he shook his head.

"It's like I go away and when I come back . . . people are dead."

"Like something else takes over?"

"Yeah."

That would explain the priest in his room, and it confirmed her exorcism theory.

"And when you come back . . . do you ever remember how you got there?"

"I don't know. I mean . . . a few nights ago I remember going to Gramma's room. I wanted to know if I could have a glass of water. I remember that, and then I went away and when I came back, I was on top of her with my hands around her neck. She was scared and I got scared and I didn't know anything else. I don't remember getting on the bed and I definitely don't remember putting my hands around her neck, but . . . that's what happened."

Constance had failed to mention that particular incident.

"Were you angry at her at all before that?"

"I mean, I was a little upset because she kept telling me what to do, but she always told me what to do."

"Like what did she tell you to do?"

"The way I speak. She doesn't like it sometimes. I sometimes say 'Can I have a glass of water?' instead of "May I?" and she corrects me every time."

Elizabeth couldn't help herself; she laughed. Constance had a kid who would kill animals and had worked his way up to people, and she was correcting his grammar? Maybe the whole family was nuts.

"That would get annoying. Not enough to choke somebody," she clarified, "but it would get annoying. And you speak very well, so . . ."

"Thank you."

"Mm-hm. Go ahead and put the cookies up. And just so you know . . . you never have to ask for a glass of water here. Or food. If you're thirsty, get something to drink. If you're hungry, get something to eat."

"Okay."

From what Elizabeth had found out that day, Constance seemed to have kept Michael very sheltered and had been very strict in some ways, but not in the ways that mattered. Michael was very polite and almost sweet, in a way, and even though she now believed he had killed at least one person, she found him at least a little innocent because of the reason he'd killed them.

Add in the fact that he didn't seem to know he was doing it when he was, in fact, doing it, she wanted to help him more than ever.

She just hoped she could.

[thelastspeecher]

The First Morning Back

I was really sad after I saw this art by @agent-jaselin of this AU, so naturally, I had to write something happier to counteract it.  It’s got some sweet moments and some sad moments, but it’s mostly just a happy ficlet, I promise.  It’s the morning after the day Stan gets back from being on the other side of the portal.

               Like he had for the last eleven years, Stan jolted awake.  He almost sat up, but upon feeling Angie’s arm wrapped around his chest, decided not to.  Stan slowly rolled over to look at his wife.  Angie made a small noise in her sleep and scooched closer to him.  

               She’s always been one hell of a heavy sleeper.  Stan stared at her, noticing wrinkles on her face he didn’t recognize.  Some part of him twanged with sadness that he wasn’t there to see them form, or to see the lightened streak in her hair start to appear. He reached out a hesitant hand and stroked her cheek.  Still asleep, she smiled and leaned into his hand with a satisfied noise.  Stan smiled in response.

               Stan lost track of how long he stared at Angie while she slept, the both of them bathed in watery rays from the rising sun.  Like she always did, Angie woke up slowly.  When she first opened her eyes, she stared at him in groggy confusion, her blue eyes cloudy from sleep.  

               “Hey,” he whispered.  The confused expressed vanished, replaced by one of euphoria.  Angie beamed at him.

               “It wasn’t a dream,” she whispered back, stroking his face.  “I- I thought it was a dream, you comin’ back. Somethin’ to take the edge off the nightmares this last decade.”

               “I know how that feels,” Stan said quietly.  Angie leaned her head against his chest with a satisfied sigh.

               “I want to touch yer skin, darlin’.  You should sleep shirtless sometimes,” Angie told him.

               “Only if you do, too.”

               “You drive a tough bargain, Mr. Pines,” Angie said with a chuckle.  “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

               “Sweet.”  Stan wrapped an arm around her.  “Oh, uh, the kids- they wouldn’t come here in the middle of the night fer some reason, would they?”

               “Durin’ shirtless nights, or normal nights?”

               “Both.”

               “I doubt the boys will come in here fer a while.  Emmett, he…he’s goin’ to take a little time to warm up to ya. And Emory won’t leave him alone in their bedroom, since Emmett’s nervous.”

               “Yeah.  You mentioned that before.  What else can ya tell me ‘bout him?”

               “Well, he’s got twelve toes.  And he’s very graceful.  His favorite color is blue, and his favorite food is peach cobbler,” Angie recited.  Stan smiled.

               “Peach cobbler, huh?”

               “Yeah.  It’s kinda funny, actually, since Emory can’t even eat peaches.”

               “What?”

               “He’s got a tree nut allergy.  Peaches are included, since they’re related to almonds.”

               “Damn.  Does Emmett have any allergies?”

               “Nah.  But he’s got asthma.  He- he had trouble breathin’ when he was born,” Angie said softly.  She closed her eyes.  “The doctors- they had to keep him in baby intensive care overnight.  Infant respiratory distress syndrome, they said.”

               “Oh, shit.  I- I was wonderin’ if there were complications with the boys.  Since it started so rough, and the girls weren’t that easy on ya.”

               “I got put on bed rest near the end,” Angie said, still in a low tone.  “I fell and- almost- almost lost ‘em.  And then of course, the day after I was allowed to go walkin’ ‘round, I went into labor.  In Portland.”

               “Portland?”

               “Lute took me there.  Thought change of scenery would do me good.”  Angie buried her head in Stan’s chest.  “Ended up stayin’ there in a hospital fer a week and a half, from the emergency c-section, blood loss, and nutrition deficiencies.”

               “I’m so sorry you went through that alone.”

               “I wasn’t alone.  Lute ‘n Fidds ‘n everyone were there with me.”

               “Yeah.  But I shoulda been there.”

               “Darlin’, it’s okay.”  A moment passed.  Angie cleared her throat.  “Anyways, Emory’s favorite color is purple, and he likes workin’ with me in the garden.”

               “Oh?”

               “He also likes readin’ ‘bout explosions.”

               “Heh.  We should set off illegal fireworks together.  Father-son bonding.”

               “…Yeah,” Angie said.  Stan stared at her.

               “Did you just agree to somethin’ against the law?”

               “Hon, I just got ya back after twelve years.  Ya could ransack the police station and I wouldn’t care.”

               “Hmm, there’s an idea.”

               “Stan.”

               “Hey, you said I could do it,” Stan said.  Angie chuckled.  Her bedside alarm went off.  “What’s that for?”

               “The kids.”  Angie sat up and rubbed her eyes.  “Got to get ‘em ready fer school ‘n dropped off ‘n whatnot.”  Stan sat up as well.

               “Can I come?”

               “Come where?”

               “Droppin’ off the kids.”

               “Oh!  Of course ya can,” Angie said, startled.

               “Good.  Never dropped off kids at school before,” Stan said.  Angie looked at him thoughtfully.  

               “No.  Ya never did. Well, maybe ya like it enough that ya do it for me, so’s I can sleep in.”  She winked at him.  “Got to get my beauty sleep in.”

               “Aw, babe, ya don’t need beauty sleep.”

               “I do!  I’ve got wrinkles!”

               “They’re gorgeous wrinkles,” Stan said, kissing her.  Angie kissed him back.  The bedroom door burst open.

               “Ma!  We have to get goin’!  I forgot that I need to be at school early fer band practice and- ew!” Daisy shouted.

               “What’s ‘ew’?” Stan asked.  Daisy wrinkled her nose.

               “You’re being all, like, couple-y.”

               “So?”

               “Ma doesn’t do couple-y things.”

               “Now that yer father’s back, honey, I do,” Angie retorted.  “Now, get on out of here, ‘less ya want to see yer parents changin’.”

[ladymogar-archive]

Friends in Low Places, pt. 2

A/N: Soooooo it’s been a while huh. Whoops. Anyway, thanks to everybody who was interested in a chapter 2 and here it is! I’m pretty happy with it actually. If y’all wanna see another chapter, let me know via my inbox or reblog this and tag it! i always read the tags on reblogs of my things :3  Words: 1401 Story: Chapter 1

Ryan might have stayed invisible at work from then on out like he promised, but that didn’t keep him from messing with you throughout the day.

Your things would move from where you set them down or books would ‘throw’ themselves off of the shelves just minutes after you’d put them away. At one point, there was even a checkers game being played, the pieces moving seemingly on their own. But you were dealing with it. If you hadn’t known about Ryan, you may have been more freaked out, but you just rolled your eyes and kept working.

He didn’t mess with you too much when Geoff and Jack came by, thank God, and he didn’t bug Gavin and Michael. The worst part was when he teased the cute blonde-haired girl that comes in sometimes, which left you a blushing mess, trying to explain that you weren’t really hitting on her but ‘no, you’re cute that’s not what I meant!’

“What were you thinking, flirting with Elyse?” Gavin squawks after she’s left. “You know she’s married, right?”

“I do know, Gavin. I wasn’t...I didn’t mean to.” You sigh and shrug. Mentally, you were cursing Ryan and trying to figure out just how exactly are you supposed to get back at a demon?

“You didn’t mean to flirt with a married woman?” Michael asks, leaning against a bookshelf.  “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” You wave away his concern. “I just had a, uh, a long night is all.”

“You had a long night?” Ryan scoffs behind you. “Try being awake and having nothing to do but watch someone sleep.” You jumped when he spoke but when neither Michael or Gavin indicated they had heard him, you relaxed.

“Maybe you need to take some days off or something. Or me and Lindsay are wanting to do swimmies and bevs soon, if you wanna join.” Michael offers.

“That sounds really nice.” You smile. “I’ll definitely mark my calendar.”

“Just no flirting with my wife, got it?” Michael teases.

“Oh, well damn, there went those plans.” You stick your tongue out at him, earning a laugh in response.

 *

Ryan behaves for the rest of the day, mostly, whispering in your ear occasionally about certain shoppers or books. When you finally got home this night, you order pizza and settled onto the couch to play some games before dinner and bevs.

“What’re you doing?” Ryan asks, appearing on the other end of the couch, in a new outfit.

“Are you wearing dad jeans?” You ask, ignoring his question. He looks down at his clothes before looking at you, confused.

“Do these jeans make me a father? I’m not sure I understand.”  He tilts his head and he looks strikingly human - and cute. You frown at yourself mentally and then for real, when you notice the slight smirk working across his face.

“You fully understand, you asshat.” You accuse, wagging a finger at him. Ryan laughs, leaning back against the couch and crossing his arms behind his head. He stretched his legs out in front of him and made himself comfortable. You settled back down into your end of the couch, turning back to the tv. “Getting back to your earlier question, I’m playing video games before dinner and bevs.”

“Video games?” Ryan says it as more of a statement but you get the hint of a question beneath it.

“You control certain characters to play a certain story. This one in particular, you control a bad guy who robs and does terrible shit. Really, I play it to dress up my lady and give her a fuckin’ sick car.” You explain, loading up the game.

“So...basically what we demons do to humans. Puppeteering, if you will.” Ryan supplies.

“Um...now I’m worried. Should I be worried? About being puppeted?” You ask.

“What?” Ryan thinks for a minute. “No, no, you should be fine. Most folk wouldn’t touch someone who’s already claimed.”

“Claimed, huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you complaining about being claimed?” Ryan asked, mirroring your raised brow, though his voice dropped a tad lower. You were pretty sure everything in your brain was dumped out your ear as you tried to form some sort of logical response that wasn’t you drooling and going ‘uuuh’. Luckily for you, the doorbell dinged and you rushed to your feet to get the pizza.You paid and tipped the delivery guy then set the pizza on the coffee table before going to grab drinks from the fridge.

“You know, I didn’t really think about it, but I got you a drink. I don’t know if you drink. Do you drink?” You ask, sitting back down on the couch. Ryan sat up but shrugged.

“I’m sure I can, I don’t think there’d be any nutritional benefit though.” Ryan explained. You open a drink and hand it to him, then open your own.

“Can you get drunk?” You ask.

“Again, I’m not sure. I don’t make a habit of drinking human alcohol.” Ryan answers, sipping at the drink. He makes a face at it, tries it again, and makes a worse face. “Perhaps for good reason. This tastes like cat piss.”

“Why do you know what cat piss tastes like?” You mumble around your pizza. Ryan rolls his eyes at you and reaches for a slice of pizza.

“This, this is something you humans do right.” Ryan says happily. The two of you eat quietly the rest of the time while you play YouTube videos on the tv and Ryan sneakily pours his drink into yours.

Days pass then, slowly, as they usually do. The added excitement of a having a demon around was not near as noticeable after the shine wore off. Ryan slowly began showing up to the AH store in human form, wearing his dad jeans and graphic tees. Geoff and Jack were still slightly suspicious, but he won over Michael and Gavin enough that they began to invite him over for bev nights.

At home, you spent your time playing video games or working on other hobbies. Ryan spent a lot of time on your laptop, researching certain human habits or laughing at terrible ghost-hunting websites. As unnerving as  Ryan could be, you started to consider him as a staple in your home and life...even if that did mean expanding your mind and beliefs.

“Are you alright? You haven’t moved in a while.” Ryan asks from where he’s lounging on the love-seat. He’d been fiddling around on your phone’s browser while you watched TV.  You’re curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and staring blankly at the TV.

“Y/N?” He asks again when you don’t respond.

“What?” You shake yourself and blink, trying to bring yourself back to the present. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been talking to you for about five minutes now. Did you hear anything I said?” Ryan asks and you shake your head, wincing. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just...this is a lot to take in, ya know?” You shrug. You sit in and draw your knees to your chest. Neither of you were really paying attention to the tv anymore. “You being here...Demons are real, everything’s real. I’m struggling with….with wrapping my head around it, what it means.

“What it means,” Ryan says, leaning towards you over the arm of the love-seat, “is that you now have one of the coolest companions in the world, that you have someone looking after you when you need it.”

“Companion? Most people call that a friend.” You point out.  There’s silence for a moment as Ryan mulls this over and you wonder why it took you so long to fully think through the implications of having a demon roommate.

“I’m not sure I can have friends, per se, but I’m willing to consider you an acquaintance, at the least. Companion truly is the best term, in my opinion.” Ryan explains.

“Fine, I didn’t wanna be your friend anyway.” You pout playfully, squishing lower into your blanket pile.

“I thought as much. I knew I was far too scary for you.” Ryan says.

“You’re as scary as those fake spider decorations: you look scary on the outside but inside, not so much.” You tell him.

“I think I should be offended.” Ryan grumbled, flopping back into his seat and turning his attention back to your phone.

[jstar97]

Writing Prompt: You’d never believe me

So I got the writing prompt “You’d never believe me,” from @somethingmoreclever (thanks btw and hope you like it) and this story came out of it but I’ve been kind of chicken to post it. So, here it is. And if you have a *cough* helpful *cough* or *cough* constructive *cough cough* critique or want to say something positive, then please go ahead. Also, anyone who has sent me a prompt, I’m working on it and thanks :)

________________________________________________________________

I'm passed out on my bed, sleeping on top of papers, books, and pens when I feel something large and soft slap me in the face. A pillow. My roommate, more dreaming than awake, mutters, "Eggs."

I whine, "Why me?"

"Because my paper's due at 12 P.M. and you're free today."

Figures. As I push myself out of bed, crumpling color-coded notes and over-priced textbooks in the process, I grumble, "Never telling you my schedule again."

I grab my wallet, walk out the door and down eight flights of stairs, past the front desk to the bus stop. The driver today is Lena. All smiles, she asks, "Trouble getting up, Sunshine?"

"Huh? How'd you guess?"

"First of all, you don't usually take the bus on Fridays and second…well, you didn't look at yourself this morning, did ya?"

She hands me her compact and points to the chair behind hers. It's only then I realize why I got so many funny looks at the stop. My hair is in knots and tangles and there's a white strip of dried drool  running down the corner of my mouth. Plus, I was still wearing my Pikachu onesie and matching slippers. You know, the ones that go "Pika, pika," if you stomp your feet. After handing back the mirror, I check my breath. Crap, forgot to brush my teeth. It was a mistake to eat everything-on-it pizza with extra garlic sauce last night. Pulling the hoodie up, I slouch and cross my arms.

Finally, my stop. I race out of the bus, jumping through the sliding doors and over wet floor signs until I'm at the back of the grocery store. "Ha," I groggily laugh, "Eggs in the Dairy Section."

There's cheese, butter, margarine. But no eggs. Not even those expensive free-range ones.

A stock clerk is shelving out butter where the eggs should be. "Um, excuse me -" He turns and smirks. "Dude, Comic Con was last week."

"Haha, you're hilarious."

"Ooh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Whatcha do, get stuffed in a Pokeball?"

"Look, you wanna help or should I call the manager? I need eggs, man, so I can hibernate till Monday."

"We don't have any."

"Really? A grocery store that doesn't have one carton of eggs at 9 A.M.? Not even in the back?"

"Nope."

"I'm just gonna check with the manager -"

"No!" He yells abruptly. "I mean, did you say eggs? I thought you said pegs -"

"Because it makes perfect sense that I ask for pegs while standing in the Dairy Section -"

"Come with me." We walk to the "Employees Only" door.

"Um, I'm not supposed go in there."

"I'll let them know you're with me." I want to go back to bed as soon as possible so I go in.

We went in. It was pitch black. "Hey, where's the - ?"

Next thing you know, I'm pushed into a giant cell and fall on something soft. Someone turns on a light switch. It looks like most of the employees are here.

"Hey, how'd you get into this?" Sam, who's usually at the cash register, asks. From the coffee in his hand, I could tell that he must have got caught up in this when he came here for his break.

"Eggs."

I look down and realize that the soft something was actually a very annoyed someone. Nina, to be exact. We're both in Linear Algebra.

"Do you mind getting off of me?"

"Oops, sorry."

After we get up, she asks, "You've been coming here for two years and it didn't occur to you once that he's new?"

By 'he', she means the jerk who brought me here. He looks the same, mostly. I mean he's still wearing the uniform and that sarcastic smile.

But his skin is now purple and his eyes are blood-red.

"Huh, that's new. Am I on one of those hidden camera shows?" My fellow prisoners shake their heads. "Back to your question, Nina, am I supposed to memorize everyone's name? By the way, hi Bob, Larry, Leia, John, Sharon, Aaron and Phoebe. Oh, and Phil's in the back? Hi Phil! We're still on for chess next Tuesday, right?"

"Yup. Nice onesie by the way!"

Nina raises her eyebrows. "Okay, fine, I know everyone's names. Sue me. But how was I supposed to know you guys didn't hire someone new?"

I turn back to our captor. "Hey, Purple-Face - nope, that would be rude. Do you have a name? I mean, I was kinda crabby earlier and I'm really trying to -"

"For Pete's sake, he locked us in a cell!"

"I am Autoraun 319, an android from the planet you Earthlings call '55 Cancri e'. My model is the most advanced of its kind. I can change appearance, am virtually indestructible, can display over 4250 different emotions, and can process information at lightning speed, allowing me to assimilate with the surrounding population. I also can fly and have an arsenal of weaponry at my disposal. Since I am so powerful, only one of me was need for my important mission."

"And that is?"

"Collecting a rare but powerful nutrition source for the people of my planet -"

"Human brains?!?" Sam panics, dropping some of his coffee on my slippers.

Autoraun rolls his - its - eyes. "Human brains are neither rare nor nutritious. I'm talking about chicken eggs."

We all burst out laughing.

"I'm telling ya, this has gotta be a hidden camera show!"

"I've never heard of anything stupider in my life!"

"What's next? You'll want to steal our milk and cookies too?"

After a minute or so, when the android's glowering intensifies, we realize that he may have laser eyes and stop immediately.

"So," I start, "Why not just take chickens? That way you'll have a constant source of this source."

"You mean those tiny feathered monsters? Are you out of your mind? When they had been plentiful, they destroyed wiring, tore up the ground, and dodged laser blasters at breakneck speed. Plus, they defy all semblance of logic so we disintegrate them. Unfortunately, in our zeal, we forgot to keep a few for egg production."

Nina is furious. "Are you telling me I'm stuck in a crate instead of working my minimum wage job because your idiot overlords can't handle a couple of chickens?!?"

The android nods.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to collect all of these eggs. And when I get back, I'll - "

"Eliminate us?!?" Sam and his paranoia.

"No. We're civilized. I'll just wipe your brains. There's a fifty percent chance that you'll lose your minds in the process but surely your doctors have the facilities to bring it back to order."

"Ha!" Nina shoots back, "Not with our healthcare. And you said you did your research."

The android leaves.

"Okay," I start, "So what kind of cage are we in?"

"Steel, with an electronic lock." Sharon observes, "Not a very good one too, since the back of the control panel is easy to reach from my side. These aliens really underestimate us." I squeeze by Leia, Larry, and Aaron to see that back's screwed in. "If only we had a - " As I reach into my pockets, I feel a bunch of miscellaneous objects.  I pull out some soft caramels, half of a chocolate bar, an assortment of screws, and a Phillip's head screwdriver. "Perfect!"

Everyone turns to me. "I'm an ME, remember? And onesies are great for late night projects…and I get hungry."

Unscrewing the back reveals intricate wiring. "So, what now, ME?" Sam asks, sipping his cold coffee.

"Uh, I don't know. An EE would be better for this but honestly, I don't even think they would have a clue. Different planet, different wiring systems and designs - but similar problems! Can I have your coffee?" Sam hands it over to me. "Stand back! If this works, there'll be sparks everywhere. If it doesn't work, the aliens have perfected waterproofing electrical components, so good on them."

"If they're still afraid of bringing in chickens because of how much damage they've caused than I doubt that they've made any huge advancements."

"Okay, here goes!" And I quickly throw the coffee onto the circuit board and try to get as far as possible.

Good news, it worked! We hear a click and race out of there.

Bad news, the cage isn't that big. As we all run out, I realize that my onesie, part of my hair, and slippers are on fire! As I stop, drop, and roll on the hard concrete ground, Nina gets the fire extinguisher and sprays me.

"Thanks," I say as Nina and Sam help me up. "Now, let's get that android."

___________________________________________________________________________________

We know why Autoraun left George - the manager - alone. It wants to know the different times of the eggs were coming in and could masquerade like all of us. No one would be the wiser. We sneak around, looking for the android (and creeping out shoppers in the process) when we spot Autoraun. It looks like the jerk in the dairy isle and was at the cashier with a customer. As soon as she leaves, George takes it aside.

(Side note: Do I call Autoraun "him" or "it"? I mean, I know Autoraun's an android who doesn't have a gender as far as I know - that's a complicated talk in the immerging world of Artificial Intelligence - and Autoraun did lock us in a cage but 'it' sounds so rude. I'm going back to 'he'.)

Anyway George takes him aside. "Between the customers fleeing like rats off the Titanic and most of my employees AWOL, it's nice to see a dedicated young individual like yourself. Tell me, son, what's your name?"

"Otto, sir." He replies demurely. Seems like his sass left the motherboard.

"Now Otto, you wanted to see me."

"Yes, sir. I was wondering if you can tell me when the next shipment of eggs was coming in. We're all out."

George's eyebrows go up. "We just had a huge shipment this morning. Is there an omelet cook-off that I didn't here about because I make a mean Western -"

"No sir," Autoraun interrupts. "I guess people are just valuing their nutritional value."

"Huh, must have been something on the news. People these days, with all their crazy fades and doodads. In my day, we just relied on good old exercise and clean living -"

"This is all really fascinating but there are customers to help. When will the next eggs get here?"

"Oh, at 11. But let's go in the back. There have got to be some eggs around."

"I've already checked."

"The back can be a confusing place, especially when you're new. Let's check it out."

Autoraun cracks his knuckles. George enthusiastically does the same. "Oh, it's so nice to meet a fellow knuckle cracker. You know, people used to say it knuckle cracking causes arthritis but my doctor friend says that's not true…"

As George rambles on, I notice tiny sparks at the tips of his fingers. "He'll zap George!" I whisper, "Quick, get him!"

Nina, Bob, and Sam pull George away just as he was about to strike. Simultaneously, Aaron and Leia grab him by the arms and Larry and Sharon grab his legs and push him to the ground. Autoraun is so shocked that his purple skin and red eyes come back. He recovers quickly and throws them off. Not knowing what else to do, I pull out my screwdriver and grab his neck from the back. He tries to shake me off,  knocking me against various shelves and counters in the process.

"Th-is mus-ust b-e ho-w a- bul-lrid-ddd-er fe-els!"

"There are more ways than one to get rid of a pest!" The android's exoskeleton starts heating up, burning off more of the polyester from my onesie and the arm wrapped around his neck. I grit my teeth when I notice a small section on the base of his head with one screw keeping it in place.

"He-e-eelp! P-i-in hi-m do-wn!"

"Don't you mean 'it'?"

"Sam, really? Let's get in there! One…two…three…go!" Sam and Nina pin him to the ground long enough for me to unscrew the cover. He throws us all off.

"Quick, it's open! Get water, cola, anything liquid!" Phil directs. All around Autoraun, employees open up various bottles and unleash their wet, mostly artificially colored vengeance. Autoraun sputters and smokes before bursting into flames. Nina is again handy with a fire extinguisher.

We cheer as though we just survived Armeggedon.

"We did it!"

"We defeated an alien - "

"Android! But it's from space so technically an alien android!"

"We saved the world - from a shortage of eggs, maybe, but we still saved the world!"

George cut into our celebration. "COULD SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

Nina explained. After five minutes of silence, George asked, "So what should we do now?"

I answered, "Probably get the government to look into this. But that's your problem, not mine." I check the wall clock, "It's egg-actly 11 A.M. Can I have two dozen?"

George gets a text on his phone and goes to the back. A few minutes later, he brings back a box of those fancy cage-free, Eggland's best stuff. "This is kinda expensive. Have anything cheaper?"

"It's on the house."

"I can't -"

"Come on, you helped save my workers and my eggs. It's literally the least I could do. Is there anything else you want?"

"A pic with the android - crap, I left my phone at home. Could someone take one for me?"

Phil raises his hand. "I'll do it. Chess match still on?"

"Chess match still on."

Before I left, George stops me. "Hey, can you keep this between us? I don't wanna be in more trouble than I already am. Who'd come to a store with killer androids?"

"A lot of college students, actually. But I promise, what happens in the grocery store, stays in the grocery store. Thanks for the eggs!"

I grab the bus back (getting even more stares than I did this morning) and walk up eight flights of stairs. When I open the door, I see my roommate on her bed surfing the web.

"Where were you? I finished my paper an hour ago -"

She looks up, eyes widening. "What the heck happened to you?" At this point, my onesie, slippers and hair are singed and wet and I smell like coffee and burnt flesh.

I hand her the carton of eggs before going to the bathroom to clean my arm.

"Well, what happened?" She asks again.

I grit my teeth and I wash and sanitize the wound. After wrapping it in gauze, I lift my head, pull up my hoodie, and burst out laughing at the sight of my reflection.

"You'd never believe me."

[babblingbr00k]

Seek Me & You Shall Find Me

Rule 1: Prescribed medications such as: antidepressants, pain medicine, anti-anxiety medicine, sleep medicine were completely banned at ATWH. The only medication that we were allowed to bring in and take were over the counter medication and Prescriptions that were deemed necessary to prevent harm/or death. The theory behind this is our very first commandment. Thou shall have no other Gods before me.

I remember, as the wind blew the moon and the darkness in, being very anxious and over emotional. I cried uncontrollably. I was petrified of night, scared of being awake and alone. I was completely at the mercy of the monsters my 2nd night wanted to inflict. The only thing keeping me from bolting out the door, was the knowledge that I had nowhere to go.

It had now been over a week since I had my last dose of my Effexor, the antidepressant I had been on for 8 years since my brother died. It had also been 2 days since I had had my beta blocker. The medication that kept my heart from beating too fast.

My body was now detoxing from amphetamines, opiates, antidepressants, and a beta blocker. If I were to label my discomfort on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the worst. I was suffering at an unimaginable 67.3234.

I cannot express to you how much I wanted to die.

I stopped praying for the strength to get through this. I was now praying, begging, albeit DEMANDING for God to give me the strength to kill myself.

Like a child, I was clingy to Emma. Where ever she went I was sure to follow. If she were to sit down or stand still for longer than 2.5 seconds, I would force my way into her arms. Her petting, rocking, and cooing…...helped. But I could tell that, after several hours, she was beginning to get annoyed with the lack of personal space I was willing to give her. It wasn't long till I noticed Emma start to withdraw from me. When I would enter into a room, she would leave. She spent the rest of the evening with Kennedy.

Que private pity party of a catastrophic level. Abandoned again!!!

I was still unable to eat without it coming right back up. I was now crossing into the 48 hour mark of being unable to consume and keep anything of nutritional value in my stomach. I remember not being bothered by this. When I stood on the scale in the bathroom that morning, I was shocked when my weight read almost 270 pounds.

Our bodies start to burn excess fat after 2 days without eating. It’s also around this time that our adrenal glands start to pump endorphins into our system. It’s our bodies way of protecting itself from the pain of hunger pains. I remember looking forward to all small bit of relief that was headed my way within the next 24-48 hours.

Nine o'clock came and it was time for our circle of prayer. We all gathered in the middle of the room, formed a circle and held hands. I angrily “passed,” while the rest of the girls prayed. Immediately following prayers I went and climbed into my bed. Emma, who spent the entire day soothing me, wouldn't even look at me. I layed there wide awake, listening to the other girls drift off to sleep, wondering what kind of hell the dark corners of my mind had to offer the insommed.

I’m not sure how long I laid in my bed, twisting and turning, trying to get comfortable.

The only way I can explain how this feels is: imagine laying down, initially being able to lay still and comfortable for 20 seconds or so. But you start to feel a painful tingling sensation in your feet. It’s similar to the painful tingling your arm or your leg experiences when it’s “waking up” after having been deprived of blood flow for a little bit of time. This “tingle” slowly makes its way up your legs, into your back, then your shoulders, and finally into your arms. Movement of your extremities usually eases this feeling. But once you have done your little bedside boogie and start to get comfortable again, the tingling rallies, crawling up your legs once again for another attack against every inch of your body. It’s called Restless leg. Imagine going through this every couple of minutes for 9 hours straight.

I layed there in that little twin bed for hours, listening to the soft breathing of the other girls as they peacefully slept. I twisted and turned, changing positions every couple of minutes in an attempt to ease the Restless Legs. The sheets were that low thread count, so there were little bubbles that irritated my skin.

I found myself an interesting little rhythm.

Stomach….

Right Side….

Back…..

Left Side….

Now reverse….

Left side….

Back…..

Right side…..

Stomach….

Now do the Stanky Leg and the Dab….

I fought, for what seemed like hours. I didn’t care if anyone saw me. Desperate to try ANYTHING, I even attempted the Hands and Knees Down/Butt Up pose that we all resorted to as a child. It didn’t take long for me to abandon said pose. See, with my bowels being in the shape that they were in due to my detoxing, the only thing that this pose accomplished, was a bit of Brook’s Backdoor Homemade Airfreashner.

Abort!!!!!

Back to the ole Four Turn Tango.

Stomach….

Left Side…

Back….

Right Side….

Now reverse..

Right Side….

Back…..

Left Side….

Stomach...

….Now do the Stanky Leg and the Dab….

I HAVE TO GET OUT OF MY BODY!!!

I jumped out of bed and started running in place, jumping up and down. I was at war with my body. Using my hands, I assaulted every inch of my body. Beating my legs, my stomach, my butt, and finally my head. I thought, maybe, I could beat this feeling out of me.

Winded, I stopped to catch my breath. I realized that I had forgotten where I was. I looked around the room and remembered where I was, and that I wasn’t alone. I closely observed each girl as they laid in their own bed, checking to make sure none of them were awake to witness my self inflicted assault to my detoxing body.

I looked down at my bed and felt a wave of hate wash over me. Hate for my bed, hate for my sick body, hate for Phillip for abandoning me, hate for my parents for throwing me away, and hate for God who had forsaken me.

I never wanted to see that bed again. I grabbed my pillow and blanket made my way into the dark living room on the other side of the house.

I threw my pillow and blanket on the full sized couch and introduced myself.

“Couch...I’m Brook….I wanted to introduce myself. I felt it was the polite thing to do. Ya see….I’m about to lay down and try to get comfortable enough to get some sleep. But...the way this night is playing out….I have a feeling things are gonna be getting real freaky.”

I gave my new friend a gentle pat, laid down, and prayed that I would quickly fall into a peaceful sleep.

I started to count….1…..2…..3…..4…………………

It was around the 27 second mark that I felt the tingling in my feet.

..aaaaannnddddd here we go…..

Stomach…..

Left Side….

Back….

Right Side….

Now reverse…..

I now added the beat from Cat Nie Jo to my new nightly routine.

Right Side…..

Back…..

Insert the Nae Nae

Left Side……

I stopped mid Stanky Leg and burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I laughed so hard that I started to cry. I even wet my only pair of semi clean underwear.

I know what your thinking, but I’m not going crazy. Well, not completely anyway. See if you have the ability to laugh at yourself or have a little bit of fun in a situation that is fucked up….well...you just learned a valuable coping skill my friend. Good Job!!

I calmed down and finally caught my breath.

I was now pissed off at the couch. She could, literally, kiss my ass. I grabbed my pillow and blanket and shuffled over to the Love Seat.

Politely introduce myself to my new freaky furniture friend.

“Let’s get busy…..”

I remember wondering how long those couches had been there and how many asses they had seen through the years.

Moot…..

Well hello racing thoughts, wouldn’t be a party without you. I was wondering when your ass was gonna show up. Come on in and join this Fuck Fest Of Chaostrophic Proportions!

My thoughts bounced around from one random thought to another.

I went from thinking about the couches to thinking about my 1970’s couch that I got free when I moved into my first apartment when I was 21.

Fox Run Apartments.

What was the name of that Disney Cartoon?

Oh yea...Fox and the Hound.

You ain’t nothing but a hound dog….crying all the time…

What time is it? Where’s the damn clock?

It’s almost midnight.

It’s Tuesday. Almost Hump Day.

Why Hump Day? Who had the bright idea to name Wednesday Hump Day.

Maybe he had a standing reservation with his wife every Wednesday. His designated booty day.

Booty...God my booty hurt. 3 days of diarrhea will put serious wear and tear on the badonk-a-donk spout.

Whale spout. They have to come up for air every 15 minutes.

An alligator can hold its breath 30-60 minutes.

Humans risk brain damage after 3.

Brian Love...the little 5 year old boy that was hit by a car. My first Meritorious Service Award. I got to ride in Air Med because the Paramedic needed an extra set of hands. While he worked on little Brian, I had to squeeze the bag once every two seconds. Delivering oxygen into his little lungs.

Before I could make the transition into my next random, racing thought, I was interrupted by a very familiar high pitched squeaking. I didn’t get up immediately.

I wanted to give God a minute. I prayed that He would take him quickly.

"Please, God, spare me from THIS tonight."

I wasn't too keen on becoming a mouse serial killer. But after a minute or so of waiting for God to do his own damn job, I reluctantly got up. I cursed God, yet again, and followed the trail of audible suffering...my broom at the ready.

This time my dude was in the kitchen. I walked in and turned on the bright fluorescent lights. Curse!! Curse!! Curse!! Damn everything and everyone to hell.

Rule 2:Swearing and taking the Lord's name in vain will NOT be tolerated at All The Way House. If you refuse to abide by this rule, you will be expelled from the program and not allowed to return.

I found my next victim glued to a glue trap under the shelving of cooking supplies. Just one guy, he had only just started chewing off one of his paws.

Broom handle down, heart hardened, tears falling, taking aim, prayer for forgiveness, stab, stab, stab, die, die, die!!!

I stood there with him, watching, keeping him company, until the jerking stopped and he was gone.

“Fuck Forgiveness.” I tried to convince myself that putting the mouse out of his misery didn’t bother me.

But the tears falling down my face told me that that statement was a huge lie.

I disposed of the corpse, then stood in the kitchen and continued to cry. My happiness from new clothes long forgotten. I took stock of the collection of knives and debated on whether I should leave my own corpse for the girls to find.

It wasn’t until after I noticed the 8 foot, side by side freezer that I told myself, "I'll think about that tomorrow," (que Scarlett O'Hara.)

I dropped my killing instrument and made my way to the freezer. I stood there, before this gigantic, silvery door to Narnia, and said a quick prayer.

"Please, for the love of all things good, let there be contents within worthy of my sophisticated pallet."

The doors were heavy and I had to pull past the suction. There was no way in hell I would be denied my, "due and proper."

Once I had the doors opened, I could see stacks of fruit, plate lunches for the next day, and.....gallons of ice cream. Well you could have called me Chunk and told me to do the "Truffle shuffle," for all I cared. As far as I was concerned, God put this mountain in front of me, and by God, I would conquer it.

"Screw this," I said out loud. "If I can't stab myself to death, I'll fucking eat myself to death." I grabbed the gallon of strawberry cheesecake bliss, grabbed a ladle and happily resigned myself to eating my way to 300 lbs, diabetes, heart failure, then finally sweet death.

"How does this fit into your 1st Commandment?" I said under my breath.

I closed my eyes and pretended that I was shoveling Opana laced ice cream into my mouth and down my gullet. It was the severe brain freeze and subsequent nausea that made me stop. I threw my gifts from God to the side and ran to the bathroom, shoved my finger down my throat, and gave the porcelain God the contents of my stomach.

Once everything was up and out, I sat back onto the bathroom floor and caught my breath.

Brook? You are working yourself up. You have got to get a grip. The only thing this is doing is making it worse.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. On the toilet and walls was an abstract art piece that would have made Picasso proud. The white, pink, and red spew was a beautiful contrast to the faded green wallpaper. In the corner, an unknown, and suspicious brownish smudge made up a smile that went along with my strawberry eyes and nose.

I looked myself. What a waste. I had regurgitation in my hair, on my face, and down the front of my night shirt. I looked down to the floor and saw that I was sitting In a puddle that I had not noticed before. It was the smell drifting up that informed me that I had soiled myself (#1 & #2) during my peritoneal purge.

You can safely assume that I was at my most lowest point. I didn't just hit bottom. If you had had the desire to seek me out and try to find me, I was there, several 100 feet below rock bottom.

I submit

Uncle!!

I give up!

relinquishing,

86'in this shit,

have no fight left,

abdicate,

retreat,

withdraw,

yield,

abandon!!

I’m going to Davy Jones Mother Fucking Locker!!

I WANTED TO DIE!!! Why have you forsaken me God? Why have you abandoned me in my most desperate time of need?

I laid there, on the dirty, sticky bathroom floor, covered in my own piss, shit, and vomit. As much as I wanted to give up, I decided to give God one last call. This was my Hail Mary.

I distinctly remember whispering,"Help."

Then I waited.

And I listened.

………….

It would have been so easy to lay there, continuing to feel sorry for myself. It would have been easy to admit defeat and finish digging my own grave on the tiled floor. All I had to do was pull that dirt in on top of me.

Bury me here. Peace Out Bitches!!

I, soon, felt my body start to relax as I drifted off to sleep. I started to dream. In my dream I heard a voice and felt a presence that I hadn't felt in over 8 years. It was the comforting, yet insistent, voice of my brother , Coleson.

"Come on El Negro! (that’s what he called me) Not here and not like this. Get up!"

It would be amazing if I sat here and told you that it was the voice of my brother that got me off that floor and into the shower. It wasn't. I sprang up and out of my fetal position with an overwhelming need to throw up again. I dry heaved into the toilet as I #1 and #2'd all over myself for the 2nd time. When the gagging was done, I stood up and glanced over at my strawberry smiley face abstract piece.....and told him to go fuck himself.

For some reason I started speaking in first person.

"Brook is better than this."

“Brook doesn't just give up."

"Brook is a warrior and will fight."

“Brook smells like shit and needs to get her ass in the shower."

After my shower, Laying in my bed, before I drifted off into a semi-peaceful sleep, I promised myself, and whoever else was listening, that I was going to see this through. No more talk of killing myself or feeling sorry for myself. I had two feet, and dammit, I was going to stand on them.

Was that actually Coleson? Taking a minute to boss me around from the afterlife? Or was I finally entering the hallucination phase of death?

Well whatever you wanna call it, it worked. I got up, took a shower, put on clean clothes and went back to bed. It's possible that my self conscious created my brothers voice in a moment of self preservation. My brain told me what I wanted to hear, in a voice I was yearning to hear.

I knew that me giving up wasn't an option. If I wanted to live....I would have to fight.

[becesswonderwall]

It has been a week or two and I have barely read any book. I'm worried and panicking because even my law books are haven't touched this quite long (it feels like I don't care anymore?! No! I have to put my head on focus!!! I have to regain back my energy for the things I want to accomplish. Please😭) and other school requirements of mine are either being cared less or ignored by me. Ya Allah, help me out from this hell in me. I'm running out of sane. Please calm my mind and soul. I expected this year to be productive no matter how stormy the weather is on a spring or summer days. Just like before... I have no right to ask why is this happening but Ya Allah plesse help me out not to fail my expectations. Please... And always forgive me, grant me ease and bless me, Ya Allah. Please.😭💔 Ameen.🙏

(The photos here shows I'm trying to beat my sadness and I guess today's the first day of the new month. The smiles are fake and are just to fool people around me.💔 Happy April fool's day!🤧 Actually, everyday is an April fool's day to me.😭🎭)

P. S. And Ya Allah, make me a happy person. Don't let me take for granted all those other reasons to be happy even on my SAD days. Ameen.

***(seasonal affective disorder – I think, no, I don't just think, I am sure of it now. I'm positive to this kind of sickness. I reviewed my journals and now social media posts and stories and I'm like, I'm right again about how I feel, it's like patterned! I'm right about telling myself that this is not just to be called depression (the last time my cousin and I had convo, I told her that I think it's a developed depression. But she don't see me acting crazy and I kept on arguing because it feels like I'm certain. Because I'm certain how I feel, I can't control it. I sleep like never end, I'm getting fatter everyday even thou I don't even eat rice much or at all and no alarm could wake me up anymore.)

And now i knew it, starting today I must overcome and fight it!

And this time let me just recall, i think my SAD days started its rapid growth after my Mom. I used to be an active person. I'm proud that I took care of Mom and it made me feel like a nurse without a license after graduating college. I remember, I also have night shifts, I need to set many alarms for her medicinal time in take, I needed to be awake just to prepare Mom's prescribed midnight snack. Actually, a medicinal snack or a medication transformed into a snack like or flavored into a juice and milk. They're actually very expensive medicinal snacks. On a day, I still have to attend her bath, she wanted it warm so I have to boil water for her. Then prepare her meals and check her day time meds, to convince her to eat like this because it's also nutritional and she needed it but, sometimes she don't like the taste or smell. Try to make her watch a movie sometime because she reads Quran like whole day, and remind her stretching, make her exercise a bit, but I always thank Allah for she never missed her salah prayer even days she never looked okay. Then I needed to shift into being chef for her, then cook something without additives– just plain dishes like traditional and no coloring or oil (and when she miss fry egg– it's so hard to make Sunnyside up egg without oil, sometimes I needed a veggie leaf, I can't even use an olive oil and I still don't know why) afterwards, plan ahead what kind of meals I have to prepare for her to the next meals and do her laundry. And to take note everything she's going to say to me. Or her reminders. Or her doctors... Then be a law student at 3-7pm. I used to be very strong, tidy and not sluggish. I used to cheer her up and people. And I actually thought my SAD days are over after my college graduation. And I think, my SAD days started after Dad.😭💔 I super duper missed them both! (May Allah grant them both highest elevation in Janna-tul-firdaus. Allahumma ameen. I'm both sad and proud because they're my parents. I'm sad because I missed them so much, I miss their love. I miss talking to them. And I feel sad because I'm getting weaker day by day and they didn't taught me how to be weak. Maybe to be patient, but it's so hard. My shoes are heavy. I accepted the fact that I can't fly but why can't I even run or jump when I wanted or needed to just jump or run. *I'm crying again* I don't know what to do with my sadness... it feels like... I'm an orange or lemon fruit being crushed or squeezed and it makes all my tears out from eyes.)

[well-hidden-hot-mess]

current thoughts about the move/still being here vs. there

well someone didn’t time her ambien/melatonin very well last night and ended up falling asleep on her laptop right when she got to the important part of what she wanted to say. i wonder who that could be....  *face palm*

i feel overall better this morning but now i’m starting to question how much “better” i really feel. do i actually feel better or am i back into a more numb state where i just feel less so i think i feel better? i truly do want it to be that i feel better and even if i’m not sure try to tell myself that it is because deep down i do want to be happier. i know despite all my self depricating humor and sarcasm i am meant to be a happy person and try so fucking hard every day to “override” these feelings of being so down and blah and flat but 1. it’s exhausting and i’m only human 2. it’s not fun constantly having to fight your brain 24/7 it feels like especially since i’ve had to do this for so many years 3. i can only take so much before i just let it win because i don’t have anything left in me to fight with. i will admit i have been slipping with doing my morning affirmations and actively trying to replace negative thoughts lately but it’s extra hard to do when you feel so low down and don’t have the energy to do anything but just survive.

adding onto that is the fact that i feel just so stuck in so many areas of my life. i’m playing the waiting game with selling my place and moving to my happy place and there’s legitimately nothing i can do to make it go any faster so i just have to sit here and wait for someone to want to take it off my hands. this is one of those “onion” issues aka lots of layers to it.

i feel stuck and have no control over getting unstuck and as someone with control issues, that’s extra frustrating/anxiety inducing

it adds to my whole insecurity i guess about being subpar as a human because i should be able to afford to do this myself at my age and hate more than anything that i have to depend so much on my mom financially because of the job i used to love but not get paid enough at that has turned to a job i truly do hate and is a means to an end that still doesn’t pay me enough/doesn’t appreciate me so it’s like adding insult to injury. my job is a whole other issue that i’m sure we’ll get to soon enough because it has pretty much consumed my whole life (mostly my own fault but like i said we’ll get there soon)

i want to get a new job where i would earn more and feel more fulfilled at instead of being the “queen of remedial jobs” as tom bilyeau of quest nutrition said (that term really hit me hard during one of his youtube videos about his story and it’s been stuck in my brain ever since because of the accuracy) but i know i’m moving in a few months so why start something that i’m just going to have to quit like right as i get all settled in. plus most places aren’t going to hire me if they know i’m leaving in like 2-3 months max. plus do i really want to have to deal with showings/packing up my entire life/getting shit together to move while trying to learn a whole new job at the same time? no probably not. so this is a mindless thing i can do while i focus on the important stuff but at the same time it’s not like i’m doing anything right now to sell it other than just waiting so i’m like wtf do i do? i’m thinking of starting my PT certification again so it’ll give me something to keep my brain awake and feel like i’m being productive but can do while i’m at my current job and not get too overwhelmed. idk.

i feel like as long as i’m where i am now, i’m just in limbo and stuck which is making me feel more blah/flat and it’s like the longer i’m in limbo, the more blah i get and it just keeps snowballing until i’m at the current hot mess state i’m in now where i’m just like just keep your head down and deal with it until it’s time to jump into action but i’ve gotten too good at the “don’t think, don’t feel, just get through” thing that i just don’t feel anything anymore, hence the overwhelming numbness.

so as we can see, this move needs to happen like yesterday. plus since i was there a few weeks ago it just made the yearning to be there so much bigger and stronger and the hate for this place/anxiety to get the fuck out so much stronger that i’m like going insane counting the seconds until i can get out of here but even that’s a countdown with no end time as of right now so that’s SUPER fun *eye roll*. i had my whole trip typed out in this post but it was super long and a very different vibe than this post so it’ll be it’s own because it deserves it and i don’t want it to be tied to the negativity in this post. i know that’s weird but like i don’t want it to be tainted which i know makes zero sense but oh well, i do what i want *insert sassy girl emoji here*

i gotta tell ya, starting this blog was a great idea. as much as i loveeee hand writing out things, i just have so many thoughts going all at once that i want to get out by the time that i actually sit down to write them that my hand can’t move fast enough to get it all down and i end up missing so much and it takes so much longer that i never really feel like i have the time to get it all out but with this, it’s much easier and less time consuming. plus i can add to it from anywhere and don’t have to worry about carrying around a notebook with me that people can find or that i have to worry about having out at work. worst case, i just type it out on a word document and copy it over here later. brilliant. i have a feeling this is going to be a good tool for me to actually start dealing with my emotions rather than just numbing myself to them/the world because i really do want to be a happy, stable, sane person and this is step 1 towards that. i know it won’t be perfect all the time and it’s not a destination kinda journey but i think i’m finally at the place where i’m ready/able to make the changes to get on my way and to a more overall positive place. like i’ve been saying i need to see a therapist for so long and started with someone but stopped (another issue for another post) shortly after but felt so good during those sessions that i had someone’s undivided attention on me and would listen to me and cared about my problems instead of me trying to get other people in my life to do that and feeling like i’m putting my problems on them and all that other bullshit i tell myself. but like i don’t know if this is rock bottom or if that post i talked about in my last post about signs of being numb just like hit me THAT hard that it kinda woke me up to my own problems but idk, i just feel ready to try that again. plus now that i’m on a health insurance plan that actually covers things, i feel like it won’t cost an arm and a leg and won’t make my self imposed issues with being a financial burden that much worse. i even said it out loud last night to myself/my cat that i need to talk to someone and that’s a big step for me to not just think it and then sweep it under the rug but to actually say it out loud. now i know it was to my cat and not an actual person but hey, baby steps, i’ll take it.

just realized how all over this place this post is with my feelings. but hey at least it’s going from blah to positive and not sinking deeper into blahness, proof that so far this is helping. at least that’s what i’m telling myself but hey i ain’t even mad. okay i’m going to end this post because it’s already 8 million pages long and because i wanna keep working on the one about my trip because it’s making me happy to think about it. further proof that it’s where i’m meant to be when just thinking about it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside lol. k i’m done rambling now i swear... peace!