#i also have to go to the pharmacy and get my iron pills

[newtness532]

🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱

[angelmichelangelo]

A little prompt for u!! Can’t stop thinking about 12 baby mikey being sick and hiding in his shell on instinct and splinter keeps having to coax him out to give him medicine and food and take his temperature and he turns away for one second to grab something and when he turns back Mikey is in his shell again 😭 (also I ordered a pizza yesterday and it was sooo good so here’s to hoping ur pizza is just as satisfying 🫶)

the pizza was okay! not the best but only because they put dry parmesan on top and it’s just too strong for my toddler level tastebuds but pizza is pizza lol — thanks for the prompt, enjoy some baby mikey!!

read on ao3!

x

“Michelangelo.”

Splinter is mindful to keep his voice level, ironing out the rising weariness that threatens to touch upon his words as he once again tries to coax his youngest out of his shell.

All he gains in return is a muffled little whine, the most he’s been given in the past twenty minutes or so as he tries desperately to give his son his medicine.

He shakes the plastic juice cup, nudging the squishy nipple of the lid against the rim of his shell in hopes of drawing him out but it proves to be a futile attempt.

“Please, my son,” he says, on the very percipise of pleading now. “You must have some. It shall make you better.”

Little Michelangelo does not come out of his shell, speaking from the deep confines in which he hides himself, his voice muffled still but the tiny lisp of his words still audible to him,

“No! S’yucky! I don’wan it, daddy!”

The rat’s ears press flat across his head, his willpower on the matter dwindling in quick succession.

He’d failed to scour for any medicine that was appropriate for children in the liquid form; brightly coloured and flavorful — anything a child Michelangelo’s age would have no issue swallowing down.

But Splinter didn’t have the luxury most parents had. He couldn’t waltz into a pharmacy and buy his children the medicine they needed to make them better when runny noses turned into chesty, wet coughs and upset tummies.

The pill he’d dissolved in his son’s juice is stark to him — bitter and strong, and he’d barely managed a single mouthful in him before he’d made a fuss and retreated steadfastly into his shell, still yet to emerge.

He sighs. Perhaps another approach on the matter.

“Daddy has his medicine like this,” he speaks, voice gentle and smooth. “And daddy is a big boy, you wish to be a big boy too, hm?”

A pause. Excitement grips at him, sure that the line had caught onto him.

But nothing. Michelangelo refuses to come out and take his juice.

Splinter sighs once more. “Michelangelo.” He tries for the umpteenth time now. “Michelangelo, if you do not take your medicine, you shall become very sickly. Remember when your brother became unwell?”

A whole winter ago, Leonardo had almost subcummed entirely to a very nasty bout of bronchitis.

It had been a tense few weeks, endless sleepless nights where he kept his eldest son tucked away in his own bed, frightened that the illness would catch on and he’d have four very unwell children to tend to with such limited supplies, it’d been very much touch and go for his boy.

Mikey whines — he’d been particularly fretful during that time, and resorted to spending his days doodling endless get well cards and most his nights sobbing where he was sandwiched in between Raphael and Donatello before he’d inevitably fall asleep.

“S’Leo sick too?” He asks from his shell.

A certain sadness grows tight in the rat’s chest. He sets the cup down and lays his paws across his shell affectionately.

“No, my son,” he’s quick to assure him steadily. “But we don’t want to pass this illness along, do we? That is why we must take our medicine.”

He hates to have to essentially corner his small son like this, backing him into a corner in such a way but he could not afford to have Michelangelo’s cold manifest itself into something more dangerous and deadly; as the smallest of his children, it was a fear that gripped right at him every time he’d so much as sneeze.

“It’s so yucky, daddy,” he says, his snot finally— finally protruding from his shell. “It tastes like wall.”

Splinter decides to shelf his initial question as to why his son knows what the wall tastes like to instead encourage him out even further.

“I know. But you’re being very brave,” he tells him with a confident nod of his head. “Can you taste some for me so I know I can have some too?”

Michelangelo looks skeptical at the idea as he pokes his head out further. His limbs remain safely tucked away as he stretches his neck outwards.

Splinter lifts the cup to his lips, pressing the nipple to his lips when the turtle takes one taste of it lingering there, hisses and quickly shuns himself away with a little click of his tongue.

“Michelangelo…” Splinter sighs. “You cannot stay in your shell forever, my son. There will come a time when you will need the bathroom, or when you get hungry, or—”

An idea strikes him so hard, he almost jumps to his feet.

He smiles to himself and sets the cup down and away from his son. “Alright. No medicine. But you must be hungry, I know I am. Shall we get some lunch, Michelangelo?”

The L word has his youngest son poking his head back out again, with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “Lunch?”

Splinter nods. “Hm. I was thinking maybe, as you are feeling under the weather, we can have some of the special lunch in the fridge. Instead of algae.”

Michelangelo, of all his children, was less inclined to be fussy over the usual meal of moss and worms that they were fed, often times eating the leftovers from a more picky Donnie and Raph, yet when Splinter was able to find more salvageable human food, his eating frenzy son was front, right and center for it.

“Special lunch?” He’s echoing, eyes practically sparkling. “Really?!”

Splinter has to suppress the urge to laugh, smiling at his son as his arms and legs pop out of his shell to haul himself to standing.

He leads his son to the kitchen where he fixes his children up with a sandwich. They don’t have any butter and the lunch meat he’d found yesterday is only enough for one thin slice each, but when he fixes up Mikey’s meal, he rolls up a pill into the wafer slice and tucks it away safely out of sight.

He gives Michelangelo his first before calling on his other sons, watching with a keen eye as he practically inhales the sandwich in only a few bites.

Confident that the pill has been devoured, he smiles sweetly at his son. “I think that shall make you better, my son,” he says. He plates up the other sandwiches and calls from the others from the other room. “Now,” he says. “How about a bath to cool you off? You still have a slight fever and—”

But when he turns around, Mikey is perched on the table, fully retreating back into his shell, unbudging.

He sighs once more, his whiskers dropping tiredly. “Perfect,” he says flatly.

[anna-pineappel]

3 years ago, I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease

And on my diagnosis-anniversary, I wanted to share my story of what went down and the symptoms I had that lead to my diagnosis. This is a bit long, but if someone relates to this, I’d highly recommend getting checked out.

In August of 2021, I went to the Emergency Room for a Charley Horse in my left calf. I went thinking I was having a blood clot since the pain and cramping wasn’t going away so to the ER I went! Good thing I did, because my hemoglobin was low, along with my iron, and I had to be admitted and get an infusion. The doctors strongly recommended iron supplements after the fact and in Canada, I was told to get the ones behind the pharmacy counter, they’re a stronger strength, but I didn’t need a prescription.

I went back to my family doctor after the fact, and ran a shit ton of bloodwork, looking for anything that pointed to anemia. I was also on birth control pills at the time, but of course my doctor had to ask: “are you just having heavy periods?” Which I wasn’t but still got abdominal ultrasounds. They ended up finding a fibroid, but it is small enough that they weren’t concerned about it causing anemia.

Eventually other nutrients were starting to tank, Vitamin D, B12, folate, etc. Also despite the iron supplements, my iron levels weren’t going up as quickly as the doctors wanted. So I started getting bloodwork for malabsorption disorders: Celiac, Chron’s, Ulcerative Colitis, etc. and one of those came back positive: Celiac antibodies. Seriously, my number was off the charts at >250… the lab deadass stopped counting.

After that, my family doctor referred me to a gastroenterologist (stomach and intestine doctor) because in order to get an official diagnosis, you need to do a gastro-endoscope biopsy to assess damage to the intestines, which cause the malabsorption. The basis of Celiac Disease is this: it’s an autoimmune condition. When my body is exposed to gluten, antibodies go and attack my intestines. Some people have classic GI symptoms (diarrhea, constipation, bloating) while others, like me, have non-classic symptoms (anemias, osteoporosis, brain fog, depression, etc.)

So on December 6, 2021, I went for my biopsy and right away the gastroenterologist was able to tell I had some gnarly intestinal damage that was textbook for Celiac Disease. There was enough damage that they estimated I may have been suffering for A FUCKING DECADE!!

After that, I cut gluten from my life and didn’t look back! I got my nutrient levels back up, and my follow up biopsy earlier this year showed remarkable recovery! Of course, my energy levels and general well being got better too!

[nei-ning]

I got my depression medicine today. SUPER TINY PILLS! :D I take one pill per day (10mg) for a week and then 2 pills, either at morning or evening. I took first one today during early afternoon to see what kind of side effects I get. If bad, I could go to hospital to seek help instantly.

About 30min after taking the pill, my vision came very very VERY slightly blurry (for a short moment) when looking for too far. Like if looking at painting's frame, the outer edge of the frame looked very mildly blurred. Nothing more. After that started to come this feeling that my eyes are very tired, wanting to go to sleep but otherwise, nothing! I am RELIEVED! I honestly feared the worst symptoms (getting urges to harm / kill myself, nausea, diarrhea, throwing up, bleeding, fainting, heartbeat issues etc etc etc.)

But if the pills only make me tired I AM HAPPY about that! I take that any day! And since they make me tired, I know to take them in the evening for now. I just hope they also help me to fall asleep and sleep better.

Doctor also wants me to go to full blood test after a month (which is fine by me) and she will call me after 3 weeks to ask how I am doing with the medicine. After that I've no idea what's going to happen. Will I keep eating the pills for 6 weeks in total and then slowly start to drop them out or will I keep eating them the rest of my life? I hope not.

After all, I've been feeling so good this week (sleep issues still remain). I haven't taken my anxiety pill since Monday evening either since I haven't been needing them. I have been laughing, feeling happy and joyful, I've been able to do small tasks daily etc. even with these mild anxiety attacks (which I try to suffocate instantly when they rise). But I think one reason is the following which I have start to do since Tuesday: - I greet myself every morning via mirror (Good Morning, Beautiful) - I sing a mantra for 15-30 minutes - I do little exercises. Many different tiny moves for 15 min max. - I have given myself a little task each day: Do laundry, wash one cup, take out garbage, stretch your legs, spoil yourself with a feet bath etc. Something simple and small which makes me happy! - Meditate 15-30min before going to bed - In bed I listen either more calming / relaxing music or guided sleep meditation.

I also got text message from therapist. She asked me to fill this online application (which I did) and then call her so that she can check it and we can talk. I tried to call her twice today but she didn't pick up. I will try to call her on Monday. If she won't pick up, then I send her a text, asking her to call me back. I'm quite excited to be able to talk with her about all the things in my life :)

Also! When I went to get the pills from pharmacy, older lady worker spoke a long time with me. I told her about my symptoms, about my periods etc. She looked at me, bend towards me and said: "You know, all your symptoms sounds like they also could be result of the lack of iron in your body."

I was stunned so she continued. She told me that iron is the most important thing in woman's body and pretty much everything in our body depends on iron! She added: "I have experienced it all myself. But you also know what? When a woman is pregnant, she should eat iron so that the baby would get iron too. If the mother won't eat iron during the pregnancy, her baby won't get much iron either. No matter how much iron this baby would eat as an adult, it will never go to normal / high level. You never catch that normal level of iron."

That makes SO MUCH SENSE! I'm 100% sure mom ate badly (still does) when she was expecting my sis, me and my little brother. No wonder we all are "zombies" more or less.

I'm not saying getting and taking iron supplies won't help, since they do at least some, but the iron level won't get as high as it naturally should be if the mother ate iron during pregnancy.

[flubnuggetpurple]

shit i wish i knew at 18

(disclaimer, I’m 23 and American, feel free to add to or dispute any of this as you see fit)

General:

* Know what you always need before you leave the house everyday. For me, it’s keys, phone, wallet, and earbuds. Keep those things in the same place whenever you’re at home.

* Stay Hydrated! In whatever way works for you! Both of my siblings have been to the hospital for dehydration before and it sucks really bad so don’t let that be you!! I have like three of those 1.5L alkaline water bottles that I just wash and refill and keep in the refrigerator until I finish one, then refill it and grab a different one. I’m a large person and live in a desert and staying hydrated is a nightmare, but this works for me.

* Keep a fully charged portable battery, charger, and wall plug in whatever bag you carry and/or in your car

* Get all the same socks and toss one when it gets too holey

* Find a decent 100% cotton underwear (especially if you’re prone to UTIs) and replace it like once a year or when they start to wear out

* 2-3 functional bras, they don’t need to be washed after every use

* Neither do pants, they’ll just wear out sooner

*Knowing your measurements and how to get them yourself is a good idea, especially if you’re shopping online. Also, you can measure yourself for bra sizes if you’re uncomfortable having someone else do it. Youtube is your friend.

* Find a good pair of comfortable, neutral colored tennis shoes as work shoes (go to one of those specialty shoe shops at least once in your life to figure out what kinds of shoes would work best with your specific feet, even if you’re not going to buy anything, especially if you have knee, back, or hip problems. For example, I’m flat footed and don’t need a lot of arch support, but do need some cushion, especially since I’m on my feet all day at work) replace when they start to hurt your feet if you can

* Phone calls suck really bad, and it’s hard to think when you’re on the phone, so write down your main objectives/questions before you pick up the phone and keep notes. Unfortunately, a lot of being an adult is figuring out who to call and bother in order to get things done (pharmacies, doctors offices, banks, work, etc etc). Highly recommend getting a job where you have to call people as a way to get used to it, as a person who absolutely hates speaking on the phone, and listen to others you work with for examples of what to say.

* Try not to get those hairbrushes with that cushy air pocket thing, they’re hard to clean and can start smelling pretty gnarly after a while. The ones without will last you longer. Also, clean your hairbrushes semi regularly. A couple combs can also come in handy, but if you get them, try to go for sturdier ones, especially if you have hair on the thicker and/or curlier side.

* Wash your clothes on cold, they’ll last longer. Also, learn what the settings are on a washer and drier and when/how to use them. If you have any fancier clothes, look at the tags in them to see how they should be washed. Youtube is your friend, and can also help with things like how to iron different fabrics, how to do laundry in the first place, and what all the detergents, fabric softeners (you probably don’t need those), and drier sheets (probably don’t need these either) do. If, like me, you have sensory issues, especially look into those. They may ruin your clothes faster but they may also help you not want to rip your skin off after having to wear a shirt all day.

*Laundromats are fucking expensive, if your parents or a friend will let you do your laundry at their place, do it, but maybe bring your own soap/offer to replace theirs in return

* Wash your sheets at least once a month but try to go for once a week. Instead of a comforter, go for a duvet with a cover, the covers are easier to wash and replace

*You can use a sweater saver/shaver on fabric that’s pilling up

* Learn some basic hand-sewing, it might save your ass later, especially in a pant’s splitting situation, and mending is just generally a good skill to have. You can get a decent little emergency sewing kit for a couple bucks and probably won’t need much more than that beyond a decent pair of scissors.

* Hydrocortisone cream works pretty well (for me) for chafing, and Benadryl cream works better for me on bug bites.

* Shaving is a Choice and you don’t need to do it if you don’t want to, but if you do, put on lotion afterwards and hydrocortisone cream can help with itching.

* Try not to use costume jewelry in new piercings, go for silver or gold if you can, even if it’s more expensive. If you have questions about aftercare, ASK, the internet will not be as helpful as you think it will be

* You don’t need to change your earrings every day and probably won’t, so keep that in mind when you buy earrings. Go for a couple nice pairs you’ll wear all the time rather than a ton of crazy ones. That probably goes for most jewelry, honestly

* CLEAN YOUR BATHROOM AND YOUR KITCHEN

* Bathroom: bare minimum, lysol wipes for your counter and outside of your toilet, comet for the inside of your toilet, sink, and shower, sweep the floors, at least once a month

* Kitchen: bare minimum, lysol wipes for the counter and the inside of the fridge, sweep the floor, comet for the sink (KITCHEN SINK IS THE GROSSEST PLACE IN THE HOUSE, CLEAN IT), and change out/wash your sponge/rag, at least once a month but go for once every couple weeks

* Try to rinse out your dishes when you put them in the sink, that way if you forget about them they’re less gross

* Try to get rid of your left overs within a couple days and do a weekly toss out for what you don’t, don’t leave it to mould

* New toothbrush/toothbrush head every three months or so, try to floss pretty often, and if you start to get a toothache floss and mouthwash. If that doesn’t work the first day or so, call the dentist asap so it doesn’t become a more expensive problem

* Try to get to the dentist for a cleaning every six months if you can, if not at least once a year. The longer you ignore a problem, the more expensive the problem becomes, and prevention is your friend

*There is very little you can’t learn on youtube

*Probably a good idea to have a small toolkit with a hammer, a few screwdrivers, needle nose pliers, a tape measure, and duct tape on hand, anything else can be acquired as needed

Food

* Eating is important, it keeps you going. Try to eat at least a couple meals a day and maybe some fruits and veggies every once in a while

* If meals are too hard, try to keep some healthyish snacks around to munch on (trail mix, snap peas, crackers, carrots, veggie straws, pretzels, applesauce, or whatever floats your boat, just eat something)

* If you start getting angsty, try eating something and drinking some water before flying off the handle

* Don’t eat in your room bc bugs are awful, but if you do, highly recommend one of those $2 tiny closable trashcans or tupperware or a ziplock bag or some other closable container to dump in the kitchen trash so at least any food waste is contained, and a lint roller can help with crumbs

* You Don’t Have To Eat Something Different Every Day

* If you don’t always have the energy to cook, try to cook in bigger batches and separate those into 5-6 or however many portions to microwave later. I use tupperware or those little meal prep things and just have like 6 of the same one.

* If something makes your stomach hurt, don’t eat it. If it makes your throat itch or your nose run or your head hurt you might be allergic, and maybe try not eating that (it sounds obvious, but I very notably Did Not Stop Eating Those Things and got sick a lot for almost a year before a doctor finally figured out what was wrong.

*Try not to become caffeine dependent, its expensive, but if you do, go for tea before coffee

*Electric kettles are fantastic

Important documents:

* Nobody Will Keep Track of Your Shit For You! As soon as you turn 18, it’s your responsibility to keep track of all your legal documents!

* Memoize your social security number, you will need it.

* Know where your birth certificate is, you will need it.

* Know exactly what name is on all of your official documents (my mom didn’t realize she never legally changed from her maiden name even though she did socially, for example, which became an issue several times)

* Keep a record of your pay stubs, whether it’s through screenshots of emails in an album in your photos or in a binder in page protectors if they aren’t digital

* Keep track of your tax forms, which you should receive at the beginning of the year if you have a job or go to college

* Highly recommend some sort of filing system for any and all important documents you begin to acquire (such as: aforementioned pay stubs, certificates/certification cards, a few copies of your most recently updated resume, SAT scores, a copy of your transcripts, jury duty notices, speeding tickets, tax forms, notes from doctor’s visits, paperwork you need to keep track of that might be useful later, etc.) I use a binder full of sheet protectors divided into “school/work stuff”, “money stuff”, and “general stuff”

* If you don’t keep your insurance card on hand, keep a picture of the front and back on your phone Where You Will Remember It. Though some places will try to require you to bring it in to scan (which is bs) as long as you have the information on hand, it should be fine in an emergency

Driving:

* Make sure you know where the registration and insurance papers are in the car, just in case

* Know where your spare key is

*Key fob batteries need to be replaced every once in a while, if yours starts acting up, that’s probably the problem. You can google what battery you need (probably won’t cost more than $5) and you can find them pretty easily in stores. There are youtube tutorials on how to change them

* Make sure you have jumper cables in the car and know how to use them and when (this is what those dads on youtube are for, if you don’t have a handy family member)

* Make sure you know what all the little warning lights on the dash mean (don’t learn everything the hard way like me)

* If you don’t know how to change a tire, know who you can call (friend, family member, AAA, etc)

* Keep a towel and a change of clothes, a pen or two, napkins, and tylenol in your car. (I also like to keep a flat of waters in the back, which is my slightly toxic mom habit, but they’re mostly for emergencies.)

* If people are driving stupid, stay away if you can (if that means pull over and give them a couple minutes to put some distance between you, do it)

* Don’t drive faster than you are comfortable driving, but try not to go below the speed limit either. If you drive slower be aware of other drivers and just pull over and let them pass if you’re holding up traffic (if you can)

* If you haven’t gotten caught speeding yet, You Will. Traffic school will only wipe the point off your record like once every 18 months (in my state) and you’re only eligible for it in certain circumstances (am not a lawyer, look up the laws yourself for your area)

* That being said, you can challenge a speeding ticket, and if the cop doesn’t show up to defend it, you might not have to pay it, but again, this is only in certain circumstances (am not a lawyer, look up the laws yourself for your state/area)

* Learning to be patient could save your life and others. (I’ve lost one family member to a car accident and I can’t think of a single person in my family who hasn’t been in at least one, not to mention a car accident fucked up my own high school experience pretty bad. Don’t be an asshole and drive safely.)

*Learn how you focus best while driving. (I can’t focus if there’s music on, but also can’t focus in silence and need to have a podcast or audiobook on.)

*Windshield wipers are pretty easy to change, google what length your make and model of car needs and youtube it

*Oil needs to be changed about every 3000 miles you drive, there are places where you don’t even have to get out of the car for it

General medical:

*If something hurts, pay attention and note it down (If you haven’t noticed by now, I make extensive use of my notes app these days) with the date and at least a rough estimate of the duration, especially if it’s not normal. If you end up going to the doctor, they will ask

* If you start feeling sick, note down your symptoms and when they started, as well as how long they lasted. If you end up needing to go to the doctor, they will ask

* BEFORE the appointment, write down everything you need to tell the doctor and any questions you have.

* DURING the appointment, take notes! You think you will remember everything the doctor says, but there is a good chance you will not!

* BE HONEST WITH THE DOCTOR, even if its really embarrassing

* Keep track of any doctor’s appointments and what generally they were about

* Especially keep track of any imaging that gets done, as well as the date and location where it was done. Sometimes that can be relevant/used for something else later.

* Keep track of the dates of any surgeries that get done, you will be asked about them later

* Get an allergy test (BLOOD TEST, not Scratch Test) at least every few years. Allergies develop over time. (I got an allergy test done last year when I moved out because I’m paranoid, then another this year and found out that I’m allergic to wheat, milk, egg whites, and cashews, which is why I was getting sick every month for nearly a year and was also the cause of my eczema. It’s better to know and be a little sad than not know and be miserable.

* If you have a bad feeling about a doctor, Get a Second Opinion!!!

* I repeat, if you’re going to take an allergy test, make sure it’s a BLOOD TEST, not a scratch test! They’re more accurate and less painful.

* Establish a Primary Care Physician when you turn 18 (if you can) and try to get a physical at least once a year. If you’re AFAB, do the same with an OBGYN.

* Highly recommend keeping a list of medications you’re on in the notes of your phone or somewhere else you’ll remember them. Keep the name of the medication, the dosage you are taking, the frequency you are taking it, and when you started taking it (example: cetirizine 10mg once daily, began 01/23/2023) at the least. If you have to go to a clinic or hospital, they will have to ask you what you take, and this will make your life easier

* If you want to be more prepared/an over-achiever, here’s some more information to note: the name, address, and phone number of your current pharmacy. Instead of just the name, dose, frequency, and starting date, you could also include the current prescription number for each medication at your pharmacy (makes getting refills easier), the doctor who prescribed it, and the address and phone number of the clinic/practice/hospital where it was prescribed (example: cetirizine 10mg once daily (rx654321), began 01/23/2023, prescribed by Dr. Soinso at Down The Street Clinic at 123456 Main Street, Townsville, phone number (555)555-5555). The quickest and easiest way to have most of this information on hand is to just take a picture of your prescription label, but if you don’t want that picture on your phone, you could just keep the label off the bottle when you finish one in a folder/binder/notebook/whatever to keep track of medical stuff and take it with you to appointment.

* It’s not a fun conversation to have, but if you can, try to get at least a general idea of your family medical history, since it might give you an idea of what to look out for. (For example, my great aunt, my aunt, my little sister, and me all have the similar eye problems where our pupils don’t dilate at the same time or the rate they’re supposed to. I didn’t know that until I was explaining what an eye doctor told me. I got anxiety from my dad’s side, depression from both sides, adhd (maybe diagnosed? I used to be medicated for it anyway) from mom’s, and (probably, not diagnosed) autism from both sides, wheat allergy from mom, milk allergy from dad’s mom, etc.)

Pharmacy/Meds:

* If you have questions about any medications you’re on or are buying over the counter, you can always ask to speak to a pharmacist. At pretty much any pharmacy (in-store, at least. Some pharmacy phone lines won’t even let you speak to a person, but some are fine. Saying “speak to pharmacy staff” in response to every question sometimes works.)

*Pharmacy techs and clerks are not allowed to council you, ask to speak to a pharmacist

* If you aren’t sure if an over the counter medication will interact with your regular prescription medications, you can ask to speak to a pharmacist about it

*If your doctor prescribed you something you’ve never heard of, ask a pharmacist about it

* Highly recommend keeping a list of medications you’re on in the notes of your phone or somewhere else you’ll remember them (see General Medical for more specifics)

* When you run out of refills and the pharmacy sends a refill request to your doctor, you also calling the doctor will usually speed up the process

* If you aren’t sure they’ll have what answers you’re looking for, you can ask, like if you need a supply that isn’t stocked in that store/pharmacy, they might know where to look nearby, just based on experience

* If a medication isn’t covered by your insurance, the pharmacy can call your doctor and ask if they could prescribe an alternative that might be covered by the insurance. If it’s something over the counter, that probably won’t work though.

* Some medications need a prior authorization from the insurance company. This has to go through the doctor. If the pharmacy tells you that your medication needs a prior authorization, you call your doctor to make sure they get the paperwork done.

* If you don’t have insurance, there are coupon cards that might be able to help out a bit, but they’re more likely to work at a chain or bigger pharmacy

* Try to take your ID and Insurance card (or the insurance card of whoever you’re picking up for) with you to pick up medications, just in case there are any issues. A picture of the insurance card will work just fine.

* Highly recommend keeping a picture of your insurance card (front and back) on your phone somewhere

* If the name the pharmacy has for you is not exactly what it has on the card, it might not work. If you use a different name most of the time, keep this in mind

* If you need more of an over the counter medication, take a picture of the label before you leave the house. Some labels look really similar despite being for different medications, so having the label on-hand could save you a second trip to the pharmacy

* Generics 👏 work 👏 and are generally way cheaper, but if you’ve been placebo’d into believing otherwise do what makes you feel most secure and don’t let anyone shame you out of doing what works for you

* In most states, as far as I’m aware, the actually effective sudafed is behind the pharmacy counter and you’ll need your ID (not expired) on you in order to get some. Check the box and make sure it says pseudoephedrine, not phenylephrine, and again, ask the pharmacist if you ever have questions/are unsure about a medication

Again, feel free to dispute/add on, and hope this helps someone out a little. Here’s a link to a good almond flour chocolate chip cookie recipe for the road, it’s made my life better. Weigh the ingredients for best results

[tj-crochets]

Thanks everybody! To reply to a few suggestions: -I could get a portable safe or something lockable, and that would possibly work for my non-emergency medications, but I would need my emergency meds out of the safe. Luckily, my true emergency meds are not the most dangerous ones I have. Like, probably not great to take when you don't need it, but a puff of a rescue inhaler is not as bad as the steroids - I can't really put a lock on my whole purse, even if the key is on a necklace or bracelet, because if I need my inhaler my hands are usually shaking too badly to use a tiny key and also I've collapsed from asthma attacks* a few times and had to have someone bring me my inhaler - I am not sure if my niece can open the childproof medication bottles but I'll ask the pharmacy to get my prescription meds in childproof bottles next time I go, so that I can have a set of them for my purse, that'll at least slow her down - I will definitely be talking to the kids (and their parents) about it, and have had this discussion with the kid I used to babysit before about my inhaler and he didn't have an issue then, but my biggest concern is the toddler. I was not the Chaos Toddler of my generation (that was my sister) and I do not know how to chaos-toddler-proof things lol - I used to use one of those runner's waist bag/belt things for my inhaler when going on walks with the kidlet I used to babysit, but they aren't big enough for all the meds I need now. Off the top of my head, in my purse at all times, I have two or three different kinds of salt pills, benadryl, epi pen, inhaler, one kind of steroids, and another antihistamine, and if I'm going out for more than a quick errand I also need a second kind of steroids, my iron pills, and an emergency snack. It's a lot of stuff. I should probably be carrying a second inhaler, but I have a pretty severe adverse reaction to it and my asthma's gotten a lot better since I moved, so I think that one is out of date now? *so that sounds really bad, but it's not as bad as it sounds! I don't collapse for low blood oxygen level reasons, just because my asthma and my tachycardia do not play well together. Once I use my inhaler and stop coughing I am fine, but asthma attacks can spike my heart rate so high so fast that I can no longer stand

Hey y'all! Weird question time again So I have kind of a lot of emergency/as needed medications that I have to have with me in my purse whenever I leave the house, and a few more that I have to take with meals, so if I'm going to leave the house for longer than a quick errand I need those too. The problem: I have two nieces that live nearby-ish, one of which is an absolute bundle of chaos of a toddler*, and the kidlet I babysat is going to visit next year. He's nine. If I spend time with any of those kids, how do I childproof my purse full of medications without making it difficult to access emergency medications I could need at very short notice while potentially pretty significantly impaired, like my rescue inhaler? *her parents babyproofed some doors with those latches high up on the door and she figured out how to take a broom and unlatch them

[queenimmadolla]

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 '𝟖𝟔

(young parents!eddie munson x reader)

more dad!eddie and pennyverse entries can be found on my masterlist

summary: After taking a pregnancy home test for funsies, you find out that you’re actually pregnant. The scariest part isn’t even the completely unexpected pregnancy, it’s telling Eddie.

warnings: use of an 80s pregnancy test, pregnancy (obvs), mention of periods, not much else.

a/n: based on this request and also based in the pennyverse (see masterlist). i usually always use up my friends’ extra pregnancy tests when they take them, so I’ve developed an irrational fear of this happening to me after writing it out lol. and i still can’t use the keep reading tab bc tumblr eats sections of my fics that i try to use it on so sorry about that and sorry about the formatting, tumblr also refuses to post this if I remove so much as a space. enjoy! let me know what you think (don’t be a dick)! 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were sat inside of the tub—void of any water—and had been for the past hour and a half. It was anything but comfortable. You weren’t paying attention to the ache in your back though, too focused on the vial you held between you fingers, rolling it between your middle and thumb finger while you were careful to avoid spilling the liquid it contained.

How you hadn’t thrown it out of your bedroom window yet, you had no clue. After all, it did kind of betray you. Nancy had a scare with Jonathan about two days prior and you’d gone with her to the pharmacy to pick up a couple of tests, held her hand as she panicked about how she couldn’t put off school to raise a baby but the liquid in her vial remained clear, and so did the next one she tried. While she’d been significantly relieved at the negative results, she couldn’t risk her mom finding the tests so you’d taken the remainder of them (she’d purchased six in total, talk about overdoing it) with the intentions of throwing them out. Then your stupid curiosity got the best of you. You blamed it on how interesting the actual test looked. While you had hated chemistry class, messing with actual liquids, chemicals, vials, and bunsen burners during the labs had greatly amused you.

The pregnancy test looked much too similar to a couple of those components, so you couldn’t resist. You’d peed in the tray, mixed it in with the clear liquid you’d poured into the provided vial, waited a couple of minutes for everything to combine and settle in there, then you placed a drop of the solution into the mixture. The result was unfortunately instant. You’d been fully expecting the same result as Nancy while you prepared the test but to your complete and utter surprise, the liquid in your vial turned a dark shade of blue. And so did the next one, and the one after that, and the last one. You were glad you’d chosen to do this at your parents’ house, you hadn’t wanted Eddie to get the wrong idea and your parents’ still had a room for you but you were interested in the ensuite bathroom connected to it—or else Eddie would have stumbled upon you passed out in the trailer.

You’d settled into the bathtub when it felt like your legs were going to give in as reality shifted around you. What the FUCK? You hadn’t even missed your periods! Sure, they never really came on time but that was because they’d always been irregular ever since Aunt Flo’s first visit! They’d been pretty light and brief, but that still had to count for something right? You groaned as you sunk further down in the tub, recalling all the times you and Eddie had neglected to use protection. You’d been on the pill since before you two even got together (that’s a different story, though) and sure, he occasionally wore a condom but that accounted for only about 15% of the times you had sex. The rest of the times, you’d simply put your faith in your little blue pill. How ironic was it that your birth control was the same color as the positive pregnancy result? Maybe you could laugh about it in the future, but for now, you were panicking about what to do next. You’d only been out of school for about five months, having graduated alongside the majority of your friends and your now-husband in June, and you hadn’t enrolled in a college because—well, you had no idea what you wanted to study or even if you wanted to study anything, so you’d chosen a job instead, which meant school wouldn’t be a problem for you. But telling your husband would be. You’d gotten married the same night of graduation, moved in (officially) with him and Wayne about a week later and you’d been in the honeymoon phase since. Wayne had started sleeping over a couple of trailer’s down at Maude Maple’s—you couldn’t blame him, Eddie wasn’t exactly quiet when you fucked—she was conveniently all alone after her son went away for college in the early fall and had taken quite the liking to her faithful neighbor who never failed to come to her rescue when some appliance of her’s ‘broke down’, meaning you and Eddie had the whole trailer to yourself the majority of the time. That’s probably how you ended up in this situation.

You’d have to tell Eddie. You shot up in the tub, gripping the side with your freehand as a wave of nausea turned in your stomach and you were pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with pregnancy symptoms. What would he do? What would he say? Would he leave you? Did he even want a baby right now? Of course not, he had ambitions and a baby would halt those! Yes, you talked about having kids before, but it was always future plans. This was happening right now.  

You stood up, climbing out of the tub before you capped the vial. You hid it in one of the pockets lining your bag before you quickly got rid of the rest of the evidence, flushing other positive tests and loading your purse with all the trash to discard in a bin somewhere far from your parents’ house and the trailer, where no one could tie it back to you. Wait a minute, you thought as you clutched your bag to your chest. Pregnancy tests give false positives all the time! Maybe I just got a bad batch. Yeah, that’s it! I’ll just go to my doctor, and have this all blown over. You hadn’t experienced any symptoms (that couldn’t be blamed on PMS) and you didn’t feel any different, so could you really be pregnant? —

You were pregnant. 

Not only had your doctor confirmed it, but she’d also informed you that you were about 22 weeks along. Even if you had wanted to get an abortion (which you hadn’t really considered seeing as how you had no idea you were pregnant until that morning), you wouldn’t be able to unless you had a serious medical condition. You’d tried to somehow argue your way out of her diagnosis, or whatever it was, by pointing out that your stomach was still normal, no major change to it as in no abnormally protruding baby bump but she’d informed you that your baby was most likely just nestled in there and, while it was rare, sometimes people didn’t show until late in their pregnancy. Then she’d weighed you and you were indeed a couple of pounds over, compared to what you could remember weighing last. And your periods? She chalked that up to hormone changes after she asked if you’d been experiencing any extreme changes in mood and you’d been able to recall the random bouts of frustration, irritation, sudden sadness, and yeah, that made sense. She’d said it’d most likely stop once you started relaxing. 

If that hadn’t been proof enough for you, the figure on your sonogram was, along with the heartbeat you’d heard during the brief ultrasound. That had to have been the scariest part; you’d been expecting to see a tiny little blob—your fetus at an early stage—but your fetus was far enough developed to resemble a freaking baby and you just couldn’t wrap your head around actually being pregnant, a baby was inside of you at that very moment. Thinking about it made your brain produce no thoughts, just white noise. 

You didn’t go home to Eddie that night, choosing to return back to your parents’ where you faked coming down with something and your mother insisted—like you knew she would—that you stay the night. You took dinner in your room, had your mom tell Eddie you weren’t feeling good and were sleeping it off—not a total lie—when he inevitably called. It was pretty shitty of you but you didn’t know what else to do and hiding out at your childhood home was your only way of avoiding your husband.

You hadn’t been able to sleep. Not with what you now knew. Almost hesitantly, you unbuttoned the shirt of your ridiculous, Winnie the Pooh pajamas and rested your palm just below your belly button, trying to feel any movement from the baby growing there.

While you couldn’t feel anything on the outside, your mind wandered to last week, when you’d been laying on your tummy and felt an odd sensation that you attributed to a silent stomach rumble—though it didn’t feel much like your stomach—, your body just letting you know you were hungry. It had happened a couple more times—all of which you’d been stomach down—and now you were sure it had been the baby inside of you, maybe protesting about being squished. You certainly wouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach anymore, now that you were aware of the new resident in your womb.  

It didn’t even surprise you that you were starting to think of ways to go about making sure your baby was okay in there; while you were scared shitless as most unexpected first time moms-to-be are, there was part of you that wanted to know more about that little human growing inside of you. Would they look more like Eddie or more like you? Would they have his pretty, baby cow eyes or would they have yours? And what about the hair, would it be more like yours or more like his messy curls? Then you warmed, because you had a part of him literally inside of you; you were carrying his baby. While the news of your pregnancy had been daunting to say the least, you were finding that you didn’t completely fear the idea of it. No, what you feared was Eddie’s reaction. 

You were thinking of ways you could somehow avoid him, though you knew you wouldn’t be able to for long. You weren’t showing yet but you would be, probably sooner rather than later. If, for some reason, he didn’t notice—someone else would and word would get back to him.

Frustrated with your predicament, you grabbed one of your throw pillows from next to you and held it over your face to muffle your screams. The sound of knuckles rapping against your window interrupted you and you froze, blood running cold. There was only one person it could be, and it was the very person you didn’t want to actively see at the moment. 

You were positive he could see you, though, and you didn’t want him to think you were trying to smother yourself to death so you reluctantly set the pillow back in it’s place at your side and got up to confront your fears, if not for you then for the little one inside you. Eddie was grinning as you approached your window, pulling it open before stepping back so he could climb in. 

“Hey, Thumper,” he greeted as he righted himself, stretching his arms up after he’d kicked off his shoes and shrugged his jacket off. Once he was standing at full height, he leaned back against the window frame, pretty doe eyes taking you in from head to toe, “How you feelin’? You okay, baby?”

“I’m all right, Bambi,” you lied, willing your body to relax. “My head hurts, that’s all.”

Eddie eyed you skeptically before he closed the distance between you two, hands moving up to cradle your face as he leaned in for a kiss. Like butter, you melted; eyes fluttering shut as your body fully relaxed and your mind went all fuzzy. You’d been married for six months now and you were beginning to realize the effect he had on you would never go away. Unless he did. Your anxiety came rushing right back and you pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed to ask, taking note of the concern written on his face as he stared down at you. “I was worrying myself sick about you. I knew you weren’t feeling good, plus I can’t sleep without you, so if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad. . .” 

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, posture stiff and awkward as you stared back up at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t meant to say it, it kind of just came out on its own but now that it was out there, there was no taking it back.

You studied his face, your heartbeat pounding against your chest with the suspense as you watched his eyebrow quirk up, his pink lips parting slightly in surprise.

Eddie swallowed hard once, mouth continuing to open and close like he was a fish instead of a human, “I’m sorry—what?”

He opened the flood gates again, you couldn’t contain the word vomit, you just kept talking, “I’m pregnant. Like, I am really pregnant, man. I only literally just found out and I was thinking maybe the home tests were bad—all four of them—but they were not because I went to the doctor since I couldn’t believe it ‘cause I didn’t know I was pregnant but she said I was and then I saw it for myself and now I am actively aware of the baby inside me like some sort of chest hugger—except it’s in my womb and I’m gonna have to give birth and I am really freaking the fuck out because I don’t know what we’re gonna do since we didn’t exactly talk about having a baby right away and I know you had plans and this is kind of getting in the way of them and that’s what I didn’t want because I want you to do everything you love and I wanna be by your side while you do it and I’m not gonna lie, I actually wouldn’t mind having this baby since it’s me and you but I don’t want you to leave me over this—“ 

You were silenced when Eddie gently placed his palm over your mouth, effectively stopping your verbal onslaught and keeping you from working yourself into a panic attack. 

“Hey, hey—hey, you gotta calm down, honey. You’re upsetting yourself,” his hand slid from over your mouth to the back of your neck, rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Breathe for me, baby.”

You knew he was right, you were practically shaking in your fuzzy socks. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm your breathing while Eddie mumbled encouraging words, pressing kisses to your forehead until you’d managed to get somewhat of a hold on yourself. Eddie would hold the rest of you together, like he always did. You wrapped your arms around his middle, snuggling into his chest.

Eddie indulged you, soothing you with cuddles before he pulled back just enough to look at you, while he had managed to calm you down, you could still see the surprise in his dark gaze as he whispered, “You-You’re pregnant?” 

You feared your mouth would run free again, so you remained silent, nodding a couple of times as you nibbled on your lower lip, waiting for Eddie to lose it, to blow a gasket. Seeing you this upset pained Eddie. He could see the fear in your glossy eyes, the quiver in your plump lower lip as you stared up at him, waiting for his response. He tried not to take it personal, knew where your insecurities lied and how much you valued him over yourself. If there was one thing Eddie wished he could change, it’d be the way you saw yourself. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes; you were absolutely perfect to and for him. He couldn’t imagine life without you and he didn’t ever want to, so the notion that he would even consider leaving you was blasphemy. He wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t pregnant. Had this happened in high school or something, he might have freaked out a little but he still wouldn’t have ever considered leaving you. 

Now, it just seemed like the opportune time for this exact scenario. You were already married, so people couldn’t say Baby Munson was a bastard and kids came next after marriage, right? It didn’t matter when you two had them—to him, at least. He knew he’d be a good dad, he wouldn’t be anything like his. Not the bad parts of him. And Eddie knew you’d be an amazing mother, had seen you handle the kid part of your friend group plenty of times.

When he said your name, so tenderly, it made you want to cry, and a tear did slip down your cheek but Eddie was quick to halt it, wiping it away with his thumb, “Listen to me, ‘kay? I’m uh—I’m definitely a little shocked, but there isn’t even a small percentage of me that doesn’t want to have a mini you running around. And my plans? Baby, you are my plans. From the moment I hung out with you in the back of my van at that shitty party, I knew I needed you in my life. Now, you are my life. The only plans I have, are to live happily ever after—and all that gooey, sappy shit I’ll never publicly admit to loving—with you. Everything else that happens is filler stuff, okay? You—and you,” he reached a hand down to rest again the skin of your stomach, rings cool against your flesh, still exposed as your shirt had remained unbuttoned, “—are the only things that matter to me. I love you, and every extension of you—of us.”

You sniffled, nodding your head a couple of times again before he leant down and you met him halfway, lips pressing together in a messy kiss, wet with your tears and Eddie’s. You pulled away once you realized he was crying, too, but he rushed to wipe his tears away, bashful. “Shut up, I have the right to be a little emotional, okay? It’s just been confirmed to me that I’m gonna be a dad, that’s some pretty big, fucking good news.”

You leaned in to kiss a stray tear off his cheek, licking it off your lips as you peered up at him in curiosity, “Confirmed?”

Eddie laughed as you squinted up at him, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “You nearly bit Argyle’s head off when he brought that pizza to movie night last month, baby.” “He forgot the bell peppers after I called him multiple times to remind him!” “And when you were helping Will out with his art project, you kept crying because it made you emotional,” he added, recalling the way you were silently crying as you painted the area of the canvas Will had asked you to touch up. “It was a very moving scene he depicted!” “Not to mention how many times I’ve cum in you. Honestly, the only reason I’m surprised is because I kind of expected this to happen sooner.” 

You winced as his brazen words, normally they got the waterpark down there flowing but you could tell he was trying to get a reaction out of you, “Jesus, Eddie. Your breeding kink is showing.”

He winked, walking you backwards towards the bed, though it didn’t seem like his intentions were sexual, or at least not as sexual as he usually was when he fully intended on ravaging you. Once you fell back onto it, he clambered over you, hands moving either side of your night shirt away. He pressed a kiss to both of your breasts, mumbling a quick ‘my girls!’ before he focused his attention on the lower part of your stomach, suddenly fascinated at the sight of it. 

“So, there’s a baby in there?” He asked, index finger trailing circles over your soft skin, just above your pelvis and the hem of your pajama pants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, then you remembered the sonogram and threw him off of you to run to your purse. Eddie watched you in amusement, lounging on his side, as you dug around in it. Once you’d found both the vial and the sonogram, you returned to the bed, crawling next to him as you handed him both. “What’s this?” He asked, admiring the blue liquid in the sealed vial.

“Chemicals and stuff, I’m pretty sure, and my pee.” He didn’t miss a beat, “That’s really hot.”

“Shut up, it’s my pregnancy test,” suddenly, Eddie was cradling it in his palm like it was the most precious thing in the world, “and this is your kid.” 

You held the sonogram up and Eddie stared at it with wonderment, carefully setting the vial down on your old nightstand before he reached for the sonogram. You let him pluck it from your grasp, watching him in slight awe yourself, as he stared hard at it, easily able to make out the baby’s shape despite the lack of decent lighting. He trailed a finger over it gently, as if he was actually stroking his baby instead of outlining his baby’s form in the sonogram picture. When he looked back at you, his eyes were shining with the promise of more tears as he whispered, “This is our baby?” You nodded as your own eyes began to gloss over, choked up at how much Eddie seemed to love the little one growing inside of you already, “That’s our baby.”

“Holy shit,” He mumbled, gaze focused on the sonogram again before he seemed to come to some sort of realization and his head snapped back to you. “H-How far along are you?”

You pinched your bottom lip between your fingers, nervously as you answered, “Uhm, she said I’m about 22 weeks along now.”

You really loved Eddie’s eyes, so big, brown and pretty, but as big as they were, they could definitely get bigger. Like they were right then as he silently mouthed the latter half of your sentence before he found his voice again, “22 weeks? That’s—That’s five months!” You nodded in agreement, watching as he went through the same sort of emotions you had when the doctor had told you. “That only gives us like what—four months to prepare? Fuck, I have to baby proof so many things, and I have to build a crib, we’ve got to get carseats, what else do we need to raise a baby?”

“We can figure it out in the morning, I am ready to collapse,” you laughed as you took the sonogram from his hand and placed it on the nightstand near your pregnancy test before you pushed him back into the pillows, and unbuttoned his jeans. Eddie lifted his hips to allow you to tug them off and discard them at the end if your bed, then you curled into your place at his side, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you inhaled his scent; woodsy (curtesy of the cheap cologne he used), with the slight scent of marijuana but you were even more pleased when you didn’t smell any traces of cigarettes, he’d given them up two months ago. You cuddled for a few minutes, but the exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you. Eddie’s hand stroked over your back, lulling you further to sleep. Before you could fully slip under though, he asked, “Did you happen to find out the sex?” “Mhm,” You mumbled, sleepily as you pressed a lazy kiss to his collar bone.

“You gonna share with the class?” You could hear the amusement in his voice and you smiled against his skin at the mere thought of the pretty grin he no doubt had on his face. Eddie loved to talk to you when you were on the cusps of sleep for some reason. Thought it was endearing. “‘M not in school,” you slurred, eyes fluttering shut completely. “How are you such a smartass even when you’re half asleep?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled along with him, snuggling further into him. He thought you’d finally fallen asleep after you didn’t answer him, but he was rewarded five minutes later when you mumbled out, “’S a girl.”

A girl. He was gonna be a dad to a little girl. Eddie closed his eyes and he could practically envision her, a little miniature version of you; with your cute nose and your pretty features. Would she have your eyes or his? Would her hair be as unruly as his or more like yours? Maybe if he put a headset over your tummy and played some cool tunes, she’d come out with an appreciation for Metallica. He’d thought four months was pretty soon, earlier, but now it seemed like a century away, he was already eager to meet her. Soon, he mused, a hand moving to rest over your stomach.

Soon.

[lunathebee]

hello beautiful person!, is it possible i could request a one shot with marc where you are stressed out because of work, you got sick, and you guys got into an argument that just put the cherry on top? i love your writing so much and i love angst and you were the perfect person i could think of. if you can not, i completely understand. thank you so much!!❤️

Pairing: husband!Marc Spector x wife!fem!reader

Warning: angst (a lot), cursed words, mostly yelling dialogue

A/n: this fic genuinely broke me tbh, I love angst but sometimes it's a curse 😭 you said "cherry on top" and my job is to served

Summary: You are sick, physically and mentally because of Marc

Y/n are sick.

She is so sick of her job and her husband that she becomes physically ill, vomiting up any food she forced herself to eat and crying over any minor inconvenience.

Everything is so hard. She thought marrying Marc was the right decision. Now look at her, sick and uncared for, alone with the emptiness and cold wind blowing through the window.

If it's not because of the wedding ring on her finger, people would think she is still single. That's what the old lady from the pharmacy store also thinks of. "You shouldn't be out when you're sick. Where is your husband?"

The question is like a knife digging inside Y/n's heart. She blinks her eyes a few times to stop the tears forming before asking how much the medicine is worth, earning a pity look from the old lady.

After buying some medicine, Y/N dragged herself home, eyes hazy and barely breathing through her nose. She remembers there is still some leftover soup in the fridge; maybe that will help her get better.

Y/n reached in her bag for the house's key, not realizing the door was not locked; someone had already been home before her.

"Babe...where have you been?"

Y/n doesn't even bother to answer Marc's question, her mind filled with the image of a piping hot bowl of soup.

"I said...where have you been?" Marc grabs Y/N's arm, stopping her from going to the kitchen. Maybe Y/n is getting too weak, she feels as if Marc's grip is a burning hot iron, ready to crush her arm.

Y/n held up the bag filled with pill tablet and a small bottle, eyes refused to look at Marc. She doesn't know how he is going to react, but that doesn't matter anymore. "I bought medicine. Can't you see? "

"Why don't you tell me you're sick? Babe, why are you hiding it from me?" The concern in Marc's voice only makes Y/n want to laugh, and she does. She laughs so hard that tears fill her eyes.

"Hiding? What are you talking about, Marc? I've been sick for WEEKS in my own house, which I share with my HUSBAND. Y/n pushed Marc away with her hand, making him stumble back in shock.

Before he could even say anything, Y/n glared at him and gritted her teeth. "No...no, you don't get to talk, it's still my turn, you hear me?"

Marc held up his hands in defeat, letting Y/n talk without interrupting her.

"I.am.sick of you. I don't know when you changed, Marc, but you're not the same man I used to know, or at least the same man I married. You're never home, you barely stay with me anymore, all because of your stupid superhero crap! " Y/n speaks with tears running down her cheeks. She doesn't even bother to wipe them off.

"Y/n...listen, I know you're upset, I know, but I can't just push my job aside, this is-"

"THEN WHY WOULD YOU EVEN MARRIED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE?"

Marc's speech got cut off when Y/n yelled at him, her whole body trembled with rage to the point she turn red.

"Ok now you're just switching the topic, what does me not knowing you're sick got to do with us marrying and my job?! GOD" Marc punches the wall in anger, making a big hole in it.

The loud noise makes Y/n stunned and intentionally takes a step back. She feels scared and worried about Marc. Before meeting him, Y/N knew he suffered from anger issues, but she brushed it off as it rarely happened, never in a million years would Y/N think she was now the victim of it.

As much as she knows Marc would never hit her, she can't live like this anymore.

"You're the most SELFISH IDIOTIC PERSON I HAVE EVER MET"

"WHAT DO YOU EVEN KNOW"

"Oh, I know a lot. Got nothing to do with your job? Marc are you FUCKING INSANE? You don't care about me anymore! Everyday I wake up and you are gone, and every night I sit in the kitchen with one light on, waiting for you to get home so I can heat up the food, and when you're finally home, YOU WENT TO SLEEP. "

"Because I am tired?! Imagine working almost 24/7 a DAY, I didn't told you to wait, you could go to sleep, LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN"

"I'm not just a normal human! I AM YOUR WIFE, Marc. I am your fucking wife. Could you imagine how my life would turn out if I hadn't married you? You wipe me off your life, how do you end up? Still the same superhero in your glamour suit. What if I wipe YOU off my life? My life would be...so much....so much better...than THIS"

Y/N kneels down to the floor, clutching her chest and lets out a painful cry. She doesn't care if the neighbors hear her, she doesn't care about anything anymore, this is her final straw.

Marc doesn't look so much better. It hurts him to see how much you're in pain. Your tears drive him insane. He just wants to hug you, to comfort you, but he knows you will never let him do that again.

Never.

[allisonlol]

hello :D congrats on 1k!! could I request tecchou and/or jouno (or any other characters u want) with a s/o that has insomnia? i really love everything you’ve written so thank u for ur work <3

a/n: tysm for the compliments :') u absolutely can!! i love my boys and this is a v relatable req. it's ironic that u ask this actually, since i'm literally writing this at 3am when i know damn well i got a lecture class at 8...

warnings: none!! super fluffy

(Tecchou, Jouno) With a S/O That Has Insomnia

Tecchou

pls the first time he found out you had insomnia, he was so confused

^y'all were sleeping in the same bed (or rather, he was asleep and you were wide awake) when he was woken up by a tiktok audio blasting from your phone

(you hadn't realized the volume was so loud when you'd opened the app, it happens 🤷🏻‍♀️)

literally wakes up all ready to fight someone but then he sees you peeking over ur phone at him like 0-0

glances at the clock to see that it's 4 in the morning before slowly turning towards you to ask just what tf you're doing??

you admit that you have insomnia and sometimes it's practically impossible to fall asleep even when ur super tired

at first he's v confused and doesn't really understand how it's possible to repeatedly stay up so late

but he takes it extremely seriously (maybe a bit too seriously) and starts researching for ways to help

goes to the pharmacy after work and comes home with like 15 different sleep aids that are supposed to help??

you play trial and error with them to see which ones work best, and tecchou "enforces" a rule that u gotta consistently take them

makes you warm tea, soup, or hot chocolate before bed so u are more relaxed

also cuddles u and plays with your hair etc which really helps to lull you to sleep ٩(˘◡˘)۶

stays awake until he's seen that you've fallen asleep first <333

Jouno

finds out ur an insomniac literally the FIRST night y'all sleep in the same bed together

he strikes me as the type to be a bit of a night owl so he's usually up late himself, but you're a whole other story

^due to this i feel that he also knows of several methods that can help you fall asleep faster tho

is pretty strict about his methods of trying to help lmao?? but that's just how he shows that he cares

HOWEVER he does make you some nice n warm tea before bed to help calm you down <33

also gets u those little melatonin pills which work wonders & actually make you tired

jouno is the lightest sleeper in all of existence so he'll wake up immediately if you try to go on ur phone

hell, even if you move in the slightest, he's waking up and asking if you're "trying to be annoying on purpose" 😑

dw he's just jk...kind of

snatches your phone from you and says that the blue light from the screen is only making it worse (and he's not wrong...)

forces you into a set bedtime schedule where u gotta go to bed and wake up at the same time every day/night

except he purposefully makes it an annoying time; like going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6am???? um 😐

jouno isn’t entirely evil tho. he’ll still snuggle u and trace gentle shapes on your back to soothe you

can tell ur awake by your breathing and heartbeat so don't even try to pretend to be asleep around him

despite all your initial protests, the methods actually work wonders and you find yourself able to fall asleep at a reasonable time and not...y'know...7am??

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @ravenina14 @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway

[metalbvcky]

Back in May, I made my first Stucky Ficrec post and months later, I’ve decided to make another since this fandom is hella talented. There’s a little over two dozen fics down below ranging from 10k-100k+ and everything’s categorized.

Do note that lot of these are Modern AU’s (I love those) and most of them are smutty. (yes hello, an asexual here who enjoys smut so very much) Also heed the tags once you click the link(s). Other than that, enjoy!!!

Key:  ♥ = My personal favorites, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub

a) CANON UNIVERSE

If You're Reading This, Steve Rogers by fallendarlings Words: 39,273 | Post/Canon Divergence 2012 Avengers/TWS, Recovery, Slow Burn

Nobody tells Steve it's okay to cry.

Nobody touches him.

Nobody remembers Steve Rogers is a person under the mantle. It's okay. He hasn't felt like a person since he watched Bucky fall.

don't threaten me with a good time ♥ by canistakahari - Words 10,106 | Post-TWS, Sick!Fic, Sick!Bucky, Cabin Fic

Steve's taken him on vacation to a cabin in Canada in the middle of winter, so it's obviously the perfect time for his body to go haywire. Bucky is determined to stick it out, though, partly because he's a stubborn bastard, but mostly because he feels some kinda way about Steve.

Higher Ground by EmilianaDarling - Words: 13,002 | Post-TWS, S, DS (undertones), Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

“S’okay,” Bucky murmurs quietly, and Steve sucks in a sharp breath at the brush of Bucky’s lips against his ear, his breath hot against the side of Steve’s neck. There’s a hint of a grin in Bucky’s voice; amused affection and confidence and something heated beneath it all, a familiar tone from so long ago that makes Steve’s heart clench and his cock twitch helplessly in his jeans.

“S’okay, Stevie,” he says again, and Steve can feel the curl of Bucky’s lips against his throat when he smiles. His metal thumb is rubbing circles on Steve’s shoulder. “M’gonna take care of you.”

A year and a half after the events of The Winter Soldier, Steve's been acting recklessly. Bucky deals with it as best he can.

The Simple Life ♥ from The Simple Life Series by howler32557038 - Words: 114,329 (Series Total: 337,273 + ongoing) | Canon Universe, MPreg, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"The simple life."

"You'll get there one day."

"I don't know. Family, stability...The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out."

Bucky wants to be part of Steve's life. He wants to be an Avenger. He wants to be a good partner. Unfortunately, sometimes that means not telling Steve everything.

a road less traveled by Claudia_flies, cyclamental art (cyclamental),maichan, zilia - Words: 75,396 | 2012 Timeline AU, Post-Avengers 2012 (Endgame Divergence), Domestic Avengers, Recovering!Bucky

Steve wakes up on the cold stone floor of the foyer. He scrambles up; there’s glass shards everywhere and they crunch under his gloved hands. People are staring, holding themselves back. They must have seen the fight, must have seen two of him.

His own voice rings in his head.

“Bucky is alive!”

Kept Safe by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 54,419 | S, DS, BDSM

Steve and Bucky are friends. Best Friends. If asked, Bucky would say he knows absolutely everything about Steve. Except when it comes to sex. Steve lives such a monastic existence that Bucky doesn't know if he likes girls, boys, or none of the above. For all he knows, Steve may have no interest in sex whatsoever.

But then a mission goes wrong, Steve is bleeding out from a wound to the femoral artery and Bucky is trying to stop the bleeding when his hand brushes against metal. Where there most definitely shouldn't be metal. Or a padlock. And most definitely not a torturously small cage.

48 hours by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 25,894 | Post-CW, S, DS, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Steve is keeping it together. No one would say he's keeping it together well, but he's getting by. Mission after mission, he goes back to his apartment in Wakanda and breaks down. Then he watches Bucky sleep and tries to not notice how everyone looks at him like he's the saddest bastard that ever lived.

But, this time is different. This time, Steve goes back to his apartment post-mission and Bucky is awake, out of cryo and making them dinner in Steve's kitchen. The breakdown is still happening. Bucky isn't pleased, but he does have a plan. For 48 hours after every mission, Steve is going to let Bucky take care of him or he's going to be on Steve's next mission. He can't risk losing Bucky again. Which should make the decision simple.

It isn't simple.

The Sex Therapist ♥ by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 179,941 | S, DS, DKink, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Current/Past Steve/Sharon

Sharon has given him an ultimatum- either go to sex therapy or it's over. Sex therapy sounds like normal therapy but more humiliating and expensive. It's total BS. He will go because she's making him, but he will also make everyone's lives miserable (Yeah, including his own) and never return again.

Do they have a lot of sex? No. Does Sharon want more sex? Yes. Does Steve do his best? Yeah, actually, he does. He can get it up, he just needs time. Alone. There's... preparation involved. It's not like one just 'is' aroused.

He can't explain it. And he won't. He definitely won't tell Bucky what exactly he thinks about to get worked up enough to screw his girlfriend.

Found My Place in Time - Cap_D, humapuma - Words: 12,492 | Post-EG (Divergence, duh) S, Fluff, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

“Buck,” he heard Steve say, “wake up. We’re here.” Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of his back. When Steve’s words sunk in, though, he turned and leaned forward, staring past Steve’s chest to look out the window. Beyond the wing of the plane, he found a beautiful coastline with white sand, blue waters, and palm trees, as well as rows of bungalows on the water. “Wow,” he murmured. “We’re staying in one of those, right?”

In which Steve invites Bucky on a trip to Fiji and they discover something a lot more than beautiful vistas and friendly locals.

Total Institution ♥ from the Institutions of Love and Incarceration series by thelittlestpurplecat - Words: 94,303 | Canon Universe AU, Prison!AU, Guard!Steve, Prisoner!Bucky, Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, WS Trial

The Winter Soldier has been sentenced to life without parol. His entire world had been condensed to a hot, cramped cell that he hasn't seen the outside of in the four years since his apprehension. It's hell. He has no means of escape, no means of terminating his suffering, and no means of distraction...that is, until he's assigned a new guard. Steve Rogers is assigned the Winter Soldier as his singular charge. He expects a sadistic, violent murderer. What he finds instead is a broken, tormented man with no memory of his past life, and no control over what had been done to him. He's a victim. Not a monster. And Steve won't stand to see him pay for crimes over which he had no control.

Raise Your Glass by minkeys - Words: 10,008 | Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Light DS, S, DKink

Bucky knows Steve in ways that his 21st century friends could never even begin to imagine. Or at least, they couldn't until tonight. It's about time somebody corrected all those historians that painted Steve as a straight-laced, God-fearing soldier, and what better way to do it than over a harmless game of "Never Have I Ever." What's the worst that could be said?

b) SHRUNKYCLUNKS

Waking Up Slow ♥ by odetteandodile - Words: 44,638 | Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic, Hurt/Comfort

In 1945 Steve Rogers crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic Ocean and was never recovered.

In 2019 Bucky Barnes is walking along the beach below the decommissioned lighthouse where he lives with his sixteen month old daughter when he finds the body of a man washed up in the surf, half frozen but miraculously alive.

Bucky manages to revive him, but finds that the stranger has no memory of who he is or how he got here aside from a name: Steve. Snowed in by a blizzard soon after and unable to get Steve a medevac, Bucky discovers that the funny, good-hearted man slips into the fabric of his and Alice’s life faster than he would have thought possible. The two are undeniably drawn to each other, but as their feelings grow so does the looming possibility that the answer to the question “who is Steve?” might be much more complicated than either of them realized.

Isn't It Ironic? (Don't You Think?) ♥ by HeyBoy, Huntress79, imhereforgaysuperheroes - Words: 33,342 |  Jewish, Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic

Bucky is used to his daughter bursting into tears in the middle of department stores. What he isn't used to is someone braving the wails and actually being able to stop Becca's tantrum in its tracks. Oh, and he's also not used to that someone being Captain America.

AKA, how Steve Rogers calms a screaming kid in Target and falls in love with two more Barneses than he had bargained for.

in my condition love's the best physician by aniloquent - Words: 9,177 | Pharmacy!AU, Russian!Bucky

“This situation is a little more delicate because I don't even know if he speaks English and I'm tired of going down to the pharmacy for constipation medication and allergy pills when I haven't sneezed since 1941.” Steve shouts.

The room falls silent, and he turns back around to find four pairs of stunned eyes watching him.

Tony, as always, speaks first. “He?”

Or the one where Bucky is a hot pharmacist and Steve keeps making up bullshit reasons to go see him.

c) MODERN AU

Home Is Wherever I'm With You ♥ by cydonic  - Words: 88,570 | Neighbors!AU, Slow Burn, Parent!Steve, Kid!Fic

This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he's hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he's ever seen in his life living right next door.

That House-Flipper!AU.

if only you could see me (for the pie that i am) ♥ by bitelikefire (theoleo) | Words: 35,121 | Baker!Steve, WeddingPlanner!Bucky

In which Steve is the proud owner of Frost; a semi famous local bakery in D.C. And despite the overwhelming insistence that it’s about time he start dating, Steve swears up and down he isn’t ready for that.

Or as of recently, just doesn’t have the time because of Mr. Barnes. The highly demanding wedding planner on the phone who keeps asking for nearly impossible deliveries and maybe Steve would like to personally strangle him. Maybe.

(There is pie. And misunderstandings. But a lot more desserts and eye rolls.)

So Alive ♥ from the Brooklyn Heights Books Series by GottaSaveBucky (Cosmic_Entity_1of4) - Words: 109,074 (Series Total: 165,440 + ongoing) | Bookstore!AU (sort of), Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, DKink

A man wearing a light denim jacket over a dark blue shirt came into the shop, a box tucked under his right arm. Despite it being late afternoon, he was wearing sunglasses with bright blue lenses, and his long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy little bun. A few strands had escaped, framing his strong, unshaven jawline. The man looked into the café, smiled widely, and waved in Clint’s direction as he kept walking into the bookstore, and Steve’s mouth went completely dry.

Beautiful, was the only word to describe that smile; straight, white teeth framed by full, lush, red lips, bracketed by laugh lines and an adorable dimple in his right cheek, a charming little chin cleft just visible under the light stubble—Steve was struck literally speechless. And that was before he got a glimpse of the man’s backside. Slim hips and a round, firm-looking ass led to long, lean legs that were encased in snug, dark blue jeans.

“Guh,” Steve said, watching the dark-haired man continue on to the back of the store.

The Penthouse Suite ♥ by elle1991 - Words: 15,873 | S, DS, BSDM, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, Happy Ending

Bucky Barnes has the chance to earn $5,000 in one night. All he has to do is go to the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel and spend the night with his client, one enigmatic Steve Rogers.

The catch? Steve is a massive pervert, intent on using this one night to satisfy every single one of his many debauched kinks.

Even ignoring the big box of sex toys on the bed, Bucky should have known he was in trouble the moment Steve opened his mouth and said his first words: "My name is Steve Rogers, but you can call me Sir..."

Burnin' For You by GoldBlooded - Words: 15,753 | Firefighter!Steve, Detective!Bucky, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve Rogers is Fire Captain of Brooklyn’s very busy Station 118. He wants three things out of life: People he can count on, for everyone to get through their shifts safe and sound, and for Sergeant James Barnes to get the hell off of his arson scene.

James Barnes is Detective Sergeant of Brooklyn’s very busy 107th Precinct. He wants three things out of life: A decent cup of coffee, good leads to chase, and for Captain Steven Rogers to get the hell off of his arson scene.

Everyone knows to steer clear when these two have to deal with each other. Everyone knows about their mutual dislike and sometimes hatred. But what everyone doesn't know? How they got to be like that in the first place.

Collar Full of Chemistry ♥ from the Rich People Are Wild Series by 2bestfriends - Words: 188,437 (Series Total: 219,519) | Heavy BDSM, DS, S, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.

Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

Toothpaste Kisses ♥ by buckybees - Words: 18,736 | Dentist!Steve, Patient!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky

Sitting in the horribly antiseptic gateway to hell, otherwise known as the waiting room, Bucky was deeply reassessing his life choices. Maybe if he didn’t eat ice cream for every meal this wouldn’t have happened.

Steve's a dentist, Bucky's a patient. You know the drill.

Out of the Blue ♥ by IsabellaJack - Words: 37,564 | PreSerum!Steve, Detective!Bucky (and Sam!), Mystery!Fic

“Does she have family?” Barnes asks again.

Steve tries to remember. “I don’t know.”

“You sing her praises and don’t know a simple info like that?” Barnes huffs, looking irritated.

Love Is An Ocean Wide by fancyh - Words: 29,009 | Shapeshifter!AU, Orca!Bucky, Marine Biologist!Steve

When marine biologist Steve Rogers helps to rescue an injured orca from the marine traffickers Hydra, he has no idea how his life will change. Once rehabilitated, the orca is released and disappears, and a despondent Steve throws himself into his work, only to feel a spark when a new volunteer arrives, a man with one arm and curiously familiar blue eyes.

Bucky has lived in the ocean his whole life. But when his family is killed and his sister captured by Hydra, he is forced to turn to humans for help. One human in particular intrigues him, a man by the name of Steve. As Bucky comes ashore to search for his sister, he finds himself falling for the man, but dangerous secrets still stand between them.

Includes clueless-about-humans Bucky, heart-eyes-Steve, and lots of Very Important rocks.

Innocent Until ♥ by L1av - Words: 136,866 | Lawyer!Bucky, Defendant!Steve, DS, BDSM, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Bucky Barnes made a name for himself as the attorney who could get anyone off, but he still lives by the saying, "Innocent until proven guilty." Steve Rogers finds himself on trial for multiple homicides but he swears he was only trying to protect a girl. Bucky's been in this business long enough to know when someone's innocent, and Steve is innocent. Steve already feels like a monster and Bucky's worried this guy's going to lay himself on the sword come his trial. So Bucky offers up another course for punishment:

Turns out, chains and whips really excite Steve.

Brooklyn Syndrome ♥ by lordelannette - Words: 158,350 | DARKFIC, Dark!Steve (VERY DARK, heed the tags, you have been warned) Doctor!Steve, Writer!Bucky, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Graphic Violence

Bucky's back was pressed against the cold floor and he stared through blurry eyes as Steve stood over him. He was trying to push himself as far away as he could, using his hands and bare feet to slide himself out from between Steve's legs but he couldn't find purchase against the wooden floor. Steve's legs were locked on both sides of his hips and Bucky couldn't move, couldn't get away, and the room was swimming before his eyes and he couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. All he could make out was the hazy figure of Steve towering over him and he lifted his arm to push uselessly at Steve's shin.

"P-please," Bucky whispered. His voice was weak, like him, and his jaw trembled as Steve reached down.

Steve slid down onto the floor and effortlessly gathered him into his strong arms, cradling Bucky to his chest as he leaned against the wall. "Bucky," Steve breathed. One of his large hands slid gently into Bucky's hair, the other curving against his spine and pulling him even closer. "You're mine now, remember?"

Steve's grip tightened then it all went black.

lay me down (tell me i've been found) by coffeeinallcaps - Words: 25,188 | Modern!AU, DS, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

The collar is a little on the heavy side, and incredibly soft against Bucky's skin. Even softer than he thought it would be. It seems to fit snugly, and for a second he feels like he can't breathe. Then, Steve slides two fingers under the collar and runs them along the inside, almost all the way around. Bucky shivers. Goose bumps spread down his back, his arms. "How does it feel?" Steve murmurs, hooking his fingers into the ring and giving a gentle tug on it. Bucky swallows. Nods.

(In which billionaire businessman Steve shows up and turns Bucky's life into an improbable fantasy.)

All Those Things You've Always Pined For by LavenderProse - Words: 92,142 | Family Man (2000) aka the Nicholas Cage movie AU, Domestic, Kid!Fic, PreSerum!Steve

“Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer." “Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It's been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn't want for anything. He doesn't need anything. That's about to change.

Karma's A Fake Orgasm ♥ by daisymondays - Words: 51,637 | College!AU, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Slow Burn

There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world's worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve's sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?

I'll Be Your Shield by 17 pansies (17pansies) - Words: 23,332 | Bodyguard!Steve, Rich!Bucky, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"If he's just minor nobility, why does he need a bodyguard?" Steve shoved the folder which held Barnes' details towards the middle of the table. "He's not exactly prime kidnap material."

"His parents aren't worried about kidnapping," Fury said. "They need someone to steer him away from the dumb ass situations he keeps getting into."

"You mean he needs a babysitter." Steve sat back and folded his arms. "Seriously."

I think this is a pretty diverse list :) There’s a good sample of everything here, some old fashioned post TWS recovery fics, some good dom steve/bucky, slow burns, fake pretend relationships and so forth!

PS: I’m on AO3 with more bookmarks plus my own hurt/comfort fics if anyone is interested :P

[namjoonchronicles]

dissertation | yg

↳ genre fluff, domestic, established relationship 

↳ words 3.1k

↳ summary many people doubted your union, how exactly an artist with as much influence as yoongi be a husband to a wife that is still studying. 

↳ warning that side of adulthood, lockdown because of pandemic, mentions of anemia

↳ song kodaline ‘saving grace’

It was a thunderstorm that night, when Yoongi laid in bed alone. Face shone by the light on his phone and he was squinting to see the news article clearer. He ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp gently-- a habit he had. He glanced at the time mark on the top right corner of his phone, then to your side of the bed that remained empty. It’s 2:34 AM. Rolling several times over the width of the bed, Yoongi set his foot on the floor and made his way out the opened door where the light from the hall was still on. The ash blue hallway hall, and the wooden floor that creaks under his weight would not guarantee a smooth entry, but his concern was that you might have fallen asleep on the desk, although this was highly unlikely. He just wanted to check.

Took a peek, through the door gap of your study room. Lights on, papers everywhere, whiteboard filled with medical jargons he doesn’t understand. Your laser focused eyes, glasses sliding down your nose, pen in between your lips and typing sounds filled the room. Your purple pencil case unzipped with its contents scattered, next to the coffee mug. And the calculator facing down. Your phone is close by although Yoongi predicts it to be in silent mode. As it had been, since 2010. That’s why you never answer his call the first time. And when you’re in this study mode, an airplane could land in the living room and you wouldn’t even notice. Heck, if he was talking to you in this state, you would look at him blindly and heard absolutely nothing he said. Yoongi knows too well. After the short peek that went unnoticed by you, Yoongi waddled to the kitchen and ran the coffee machine to start.

He scratches his temple while he ensures the machine begins working, then walks to the fridge. Yanks it open to see what is inside. Some old ripen kimchi, newer batch kimchi, some milk and apples. He ran his eyes through several more things and took out two apples. He bought this for your fibre intake. The last visit to the doctor, you were recommended to take more fibres in, as well as iron because you are still anemic. Despite the considerable diet change by Yoongi, the blood count doesn’t project the effort. It was then decided by the nutritionist and doctor, together, that you have to take pills as well as monthly checks while they send your blood result to the lab for thalassemia management, if diagnosed. Yoongi carefully ran the apples under the water, gently. He begins to peel the skin with a knife, and then, wedges them. He places them in the bowl and by then, the coffee has started to pour into the mug he had prepared underneath.

The blue light from the screen is making you pinch the bridge of your nose. Creases begin to form in between your brow as the numbers you obtained from the experiment did not become tally to the theory, suggesting a mechanical error. With the restriction order loosening up, going down to the lab is allowed, but you figured that many other post-graduate students might squabble for a time slot to use the lab.

“Should have calibrated the thing before I started the experiment,” you silently cursed underneath your breath.

Yoongi pushes the door open with his back and reveals a tray, scuffling and making a lot of noise. He set the bowl with apples and switched the cold coffee mug with a new piping hot one. Your whole face lights up.

“Why are you not asleep yet?” you sang. Eyes following him. “How can I sleep, when you’re suffering like this,” he said in a straight voice, almost emotionless, that makes it hard to believe that he was being affectionate. But that’s Yoongi for you. “There were apples in the fridge?” “Don’t lie, we bought them together… If I don’t wedge them out like this, you won’t even eat it,” he nags, “Did you even take the pills for today?” “I did,” you shoved one wedge in your mouth.

“Before or after the coffee?” He was standing next to you and your head was tilting back to see him. “Before,” you chuckled through your nose.

Yoongi turned his attention to your work.

“Is there still a lot to do?” He mutters, kneeling by the table next to your chair. You comfortably circled your arm around his neck from your chair and buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and nodding as a response to his question. He smells like bedsheets, you thought to yourself. Yoongi’s wedding band shone under the bright light of your study room, and as he is careful not to disturb your work, he couldn’t help but worry about your mental state. He knows just how much stress you could handle and even if you weren’t shy away from an extremely stressful situation, it is the first for this kind of work environment. You told him that the mindset of working from home is entirely different from the ones actually working in the work area. But he always reminds you that, you weren’t working from home, you are at home, working.

“I saw the numbers and I knew that it was tally with the theory we learned in lectures, and have been hammering my head on what went wrong, so I checked on my methods and it was all correct, so it must have been the machine,” you turned to the side to see the laptop, still clinging onto him. Yoongi turns to the side and plants a kiss on your hair, standing up slowly.

“What do we do?” Yoongi leans his hip on the desk and folded his arm, looking down at you who is by now, pouting, helplessly.

“Either I go back to the lab and redo the whole painstakingly slow experiment, or just write the whole report and blame it on the error, and thicken my skin when my doctor screams at me for incompetency to run experiments, and ruin my credibility for the rest of post graduate pharmacy faculty,” you shrugged sadly.

Yoongi pouts too, now.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he gathers your head and sandwiched your face between his hands and kisses the skin between your brows, while your hand slid down his hip then over his butt, before grabbing the butt cheeks, playfully. You watch his back grow smaller and smaller as he gets to the door, leaves a gap between the door and the door frame big enough for an ant to enter, and leaves you to your work. You turned sideways to the word documents you have, and then to the calculations on the board on the far left of the room, and just, let out a massive sigh.

Several times the alarm clock vibrates on the bedside table next to you, and your hand would swiftly grab them to snooze mode, every single time. That eventually stops when the heat from the duvet chases you out and when you realise that it was no longer noon, it was actually almost 3pm. Your head pounds immediately, and even then you were counting the hours you slept to see if it was appropriate. Eversince the lockdown began, your sleep schedules have become even more disorganized. Doctor said looking out the window would help, but walking outside once in a while to get groceries proves to be even more helpful than the former. Yoongi always gets the groceries because he usually cooks. Now that the lockdown has slowly lifted, Yoongi started to go to the company building to resume his work, but you’re stuck at home because the university recommended studying from home.

Apart from having to use the lab now and then, there is no need for you to constantly be at the university. Even the lectures are held online, and assignments are submitted through emails. Group work is discussed through video conferences. But you’re an old school gal who always preferred to have her notes printed so you could scribble over the things you needed to do, and it makes organising tasks a lot easier. Walking into the study room, you saw the printer not where you set them. In fact, it has its own table with rollers on them, the cables are hidden and neatly bound by the computer, ready for use. The overall set up is neat. It made you smile first thing in the day. Because you knew who had done it that way, and you wondered how he made all this--assembling the tiny table and putting rollers on it, so quietly, that you managed to sleep through it.

At the office, Yoongi was just leaving a small meeting room. He has his facemask down covering his chin as he sifted through the papers handed to him by one of his staffs. The staff is standing nearby to wait on his comments. Upon waiting the staff realises that Yoongi had a bandaid on his thumb.

“A minor accident today, nothing to worry about,” Yoongi shrug it off and quickly turned the attention away from him, “...I think it looks pretty good, try to proceed with it first, and show me how it sounds.”

“Through email or Kakao?” “Kakao, because I don’t have the laptop fixed yet and the ones at home are out of discussion,” Yoongi added a chuckle at the end, slapped the staff’s shoulder and excused himself, just when his phone vibrated an incoming message. And a photo, sent by his wife.

“Babe?” - wife

It reads. A photo followed. Of the perfectly set up study station of his wife.

Yoongi smiled and dug his tongue to his cheek, clamping his lower lips between his teeth. He types a reply while leaning to one side of the office wall, by the hallway. Crossing his ankles.

“You’re welcome. Study well~~ Also, we’re having takeouts tonight.” - yoongi

The message chimes in. A jar of cookies in arm, you were nibbling on one java chip cookie while unlocking your phone to read Yoongi’s message. That’s strange. Takeouts?

“But I can cook. And its weekdays.” - wife

”Nonsense. You pulled an all-nighter last night. We are having takeouts. There’s this good new restaurant the staff had been hyping. Think we should go there.” - yoongi

”Okay… whatever you say then. <3 - wife

Yoongi shoves his phone in his back pocket and walks down the hall to his studio. On the way there, he passes by Hoseok who was just leaving.

“Where are you off to?” “Getting lunch, want to go get lunch together?” “Sure.” “Namjoon is joining us too, I’m waiting for his reply.” “Great…you guys decided where?” “There’s a BBQ house I know that sells really good broiled chicken feet.”

Twenty minutes went by since the last text with Yoongi and you had been staring at the calculation on the whiteboard thinking about Krispy Kreme’s premium donuts. You wonder if the outlets are open, as they should be because the lockdown never closed businesses. Yoongi would know, you figured.

“Yeah they are opened, Why?” - yoongi

“I am craving for the ones with the KitKat on, I think my period is coming on soon…” - wife

“We can have that as desserts later no problem, I sent you lunch, and it should be there in 25 minutes. - yoongi

“Yay! What are you having?” - wife

“Broiled chicken feet with Hoseok and Joon.” - yoongi

”That’s not...what you got me… right? - wife

”Of course not, I got you Kimchi jjigae with tofu, and some kimbaps.” - yoongi

Phew. For as long as you’ve gotten married, not once have you doubted that Yoongi wouldn’t understand your palate. But he is quite a prankster sometimes. Even if he is not as savage as your inlaws are, to put strange food in front of your plate, there’s a certain degree of cheekiness of him at stake. You were a bit of a picky eater should it hit you at a specific time of the month. Sometimes you could eat chicken liver with minor problems, sometimes you would vomit at the thought of it. Yoongi had been dealing with the latter, quite a few times now. You have about 3 blister packs of anti-nausea pills at home just to cope with it. Acquaintances and distant relatives would insinuate that you were pregnant, but that isn’t the case. Doctor said it would be difficult to have a baby with your anemia uncontained, and you and Yoongi both would not risk having a child while you were struggling with it.

It is just not worth the while. The risks are too great. Malformed, cleft-lips, premature--the list of risks are endless. Let mommy take care of herself first.

Hoseok drove to the restaurant he was talking about. They got a room to themselves, abiding the social distancing rule with several chairs spread apart. When the food arrives, Yoongi could understand why Hoseok loved the chicken feet. It’s savory down to the bone. He picks the pickled yellow radish with his chopstick and devours it with a mouthful of rice. Hoseok began asking if Yoongi would consider taking his wife here. Namjoon was sitting there answering a call, and had to leave the room so the sound of the grills didn't distract him from the call. Yoongi downed a glass of chinese tea before answering with a groan.

“She doesn’t eat those things. Chicken feet, gizzards, those weird smelling things that don't go away even when you cook it properly…” “Don’t she have that thing, anemic? Anemia, the blood disease?” “Yea, she’s on pills treating that, and I’m also fixing her diet, but she is plunged with work so she takes in more coffee, so that would disrupt the pills function, I heard from the doctor. The woman is a caffeine addict, I don’t think she’ll slow down anytime soon, especially not now.” “I see. She is pretty stubborn…”

Hoseok suddenly burst out laughing, and the reason was, “I remember that one time she went on a full force rant on why you shouldn’t place the picture frame where it was, how did it go though? She went like, why is it on the far left of the light like that…”

Yoongi’s eyes quickly disappeared as his smile grew wider at the memory. He remembers that day so well. You both just moved into the apartment you are living in now and several arguments were brought out as the apartment progresses into a living space and more and more things come in.

“I was the man of the house,” Yoongi pauses and, “So we hang it the way she wanted.”

When Namjoon walked in, Hoseok was full-blown laughing.

“You honestly think I would win against her? She’s a fucking scientist… It’s her world, I’m just living in it, bro.”

Yoongi’s lips pursed as he took another meat into his mouth and chewed, with one knee propped up. The boys continued to talk about their future plans. The games they could watch and eventually, work and where they are heading next. Namjoon was visibly cornered by it all so they were working out balancing work and passion, and it’s usually a difficult thing to do. They were lucky to be loving the job that helps put food on the table. But love can turn to hate so easily. Along the way, one could hate it so much, one could consider leaving it. It would feel like a good choice at the time, but eventually, they will think about longevity, and what makes money. Which is the reality of living.

Yoongi’s whole world is music. And your whole world is science. Both are the opposite side of the same coin. Through the differences, there are many quarrels and conversation shoved under the rug for later days. It is never comprehensible why one would do such a thing, in the perspective of a stranger, but when you are in a relationship, tolerance is as important as communicating, and the two go hand-in-hand with each other. It is only in a relationship that you see someone whose upbringing is so completely different from yours, try to understand the way you were brought up and the values you grew up with, the same way you try to understand theirs. They could be the one who mindlessly folds the doormat messily after they leave the bathroom and doesn’t fix it. Or they could be the one who is passionate about feeding cats but never cleans up after the poos. Or you could be so rigid in your ways of doing things that you simply cannot be flexible.

Or walk the room with their hair dripping wet and leave trails of water droplets around the house. Or leave the dishes in the sink unwashed because it's ‘only one mug’. Or they could use the coffee machine without wiping away the spills that could attract ants. Or have aesthetics that are so different from the ones you like. Maybe they prefer a cupboard with its insides all showing, no doors. Or like to collect designer shoes that cost more than the things you deemed more necessary than that of shoes. Or they might leave their shoes unarranged at the front step and it might drive you crazy how they continuously do this even after countless times, reminded not to.

Or how he is so thoughtful enough to send you the KitKat premium donuts you mentioned just hours ago. Or how he carefully ensured that extra tofu is added in the kimchi jjigae because he knows you love them. Or how he has those printers set up so neatly without you worrying how messy it looks. He had the motion-detecting LED light installed on the balcony so you don’t have to turn on the lights when you want to walk outside. Or how he throws everything away when you say you need to talk. Sure he might fall asleep halfway. Sure he flips the doormats when he leaves the baths. Sure he left his one mug in the sink and went to bed without washing it.

But he also waits 20 minutes for you to get ready because you lost track of time, reading your reports and spotting the error in your datas. And he also smiles when you climbed into the car, with a heaving chest and sparred breaths. And he orders your favourites quite fluently, down to the preferences and drinks. And you might love the way he looks when he is literally just existing. There was no one else that looked so mesmerizing the way he does when he drives. Or when he eats, or when he was thinking, and listening.

At the end of the day, it wasn’t the flipping doormats or the one mug in the sink that became the issue. It was who would still want to hold you even after all these years, in complete darkness and in the brightest day. It was who would still feel you were worth their time, despite having only 24 hours in a day. It is the person you fell asleep thinking of, and woke up looking at.

.

.

.

.

You keep me strong when I can't carry on

When you lose your feet, fall down to your knees and your heart's about to break I will be your saving grace When your eyes can't see, take my eyes from me When you're lost and losing faith I will be your saving grace

Be my, be my, be my saving grace Won't you be my, be my, be my saving grace

.

.

.

copyright © 2020 namjoonchronicles do not repost, and thank you for reading 

[brxken-arrxw]

//Husband and I had a discussion about my mental health and job situation tonight....

My husband is one of three technicians at the pharmacy and I’m a clerk. We just found out that one of the other techs, whom has been a long time employee like my husband, was offered a teaching job. It would be more focused on the degree he has and it would get him away from the boss/owner, whom he had a bad confrontation with on friday. However, if he does leave, then it’s going to cause a huge change at work... 

I can see the boss not really wanting to hire another tech, but I can see him forcing me into the job, which I do not want. I don’t even know if I would be paid more to do it either. I would still have the job of running the window and running through scripts, which I can barely do both enough now as it is because we’re so busy. I’ve just been resorting to running our two lane window with little help. By making me a tech, it would only expand my job to counting pills. I wouldn’t be able to do that, though, because the boss recently told our other clerks, which there are only two others, not to be back in the pharmacy. Simply because he does not like them. 

The third tech has a second job at the school, which is about to start up. So she cannot work any longer than three hours in the afternoon. The other two clerks also have kids. Some in school, some not yet. So there’s no telling if they’ll be able to even work much or if they’ll be able to stay on. 

Husband believes the idea would be that I would be forced into a tech job and work mornings and saturdays, which I don’t currently work. I don’t want the job because I don’t want the responsibility or to be in charge. I don’t mind saturdays because it would only be four hours. However, my mental health cannot handle all of this, but if I stay here at this place I may not have a choice. 

We weighed the pros and cons for me both staying at my current job and going to a new one. Current job came out almost even. New job? I could only come up with two cons... I wouldn’t be working with my husband any longer and it would be a new place to grow accustomed to. 

So... With all of that on the table, I am now looking into working for my tribe as pharmacy technician. Sure, it would be the title I didn’t want, but the duties would be different. And I would hopefully be out of the toxic environment that I’ve been trapped in recently. 

My husband and I agree that I’ve been slowly going downhill over the summer. Part of this is due to the owner/boss being there for most of the summer with his iron fist. I’ve been fortunate enough to remain on his good side, but when the man goes down to a dispensary down the street and accuses the owner of selling to minors with absolutely no evidence what so ever... I think that’s when I finally realized that my 12 years at this place needs to come to an end... 

I am extremely nervous about looking somewhere else, but maybe this will be better for me? I don’t know. I guess I won’t know until I try. 

It would also mean that I would most likely get benefits, which I do not have at my current job. Maybe more vacation time. Since I’m part Native and have pharmacy experience, it may work to my advantage. The only question is if I will make as much as I am now. That’s one of the cons of leaving my current job. I really don’t anticipate someone else paying me as much as I am getting now. 

But anyway, we’ll see what happens. 

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

Friendly Neighborhood Harmacy || Simon and Kaden

TIMING: A few hours after Blanche was possessed LOACTION: Pharmacy Downtown PARTIES: @inconvenientsimonstrocity and @chasseurdeloup​ SUMMARY: Hunter and Werewolf shopping trip that didn’t go wrong at all

Kaden knew he shouldn’t be out right now anywhere unprotected with wards or salt. He was a walking lightning rod for bullshit ghost activity. But he needed more ibuprofen. Desperately. Maybe some Excedrin. The headache pounding in his skull seemingly refused to die down and there was nothing left in his house. The combination of crying and worrying and just overall stress wasn’t boding well. Riding it out wasn’t going to fix it. The pharmacy down and around the corner was close enough to his apartment. He’d be in and out quickly enough. The ghost should still be gone for now, too. If not, he had salt packets in his jacket and an iron knife in his back pocket. He turned the corner, eyes still a little blurry and saw someone standing in his way. “Hey. Can you move?” Kaden wasn’t normally super polite to begin with, but he was too haggard to even pretend tonight.

Simon had been standing there for… longer than he would’ve admitted to a total stranger-- well no, that wasn’t true. Simon was always ready to take a fall or look like the fool to spare someone else’s ego or intelligence and this was no different but he was honestly comparing and contrasting the labels on at least three different types of allergy medication at that moment. He wasn’t a huge fan of nasal spray but maybe that would’ve been more effective? He found himself slowly but increasingly growing worried of developing liver failure or a stomach ulcer from how many pills he had to take depending on how close to the full moon it was. Was it placebo? Was he just making this all up? What if it was psychosomatic? These were all thoughts that floated through his head as he lifted one bottle to read the contents, then the other that was wedged between his ring and pinky fingers when he heard a voice push through his thought cloud. He turned sharply and regarded a… Kaden? He had only seen the man once before, at his birthday party but he knew his memory wasn’t failing him yet though he certainly looked worse for wear this time around. “I’m sorry,” He apologised, taking a generous step back as he felt the hair on the back of his neck instinctively stand on end at being so suddenly close to a werewolf Hunter. He ignored the feeling. “Are… you okay?” He found himself asking though part of him certainly didn’t mean to.

“Thanks,” he grumbled as he shuffled past the guy to get to the rows of painkillers. For a second, Kaden thought he felt something. A chill, maybe? Was the poltergeist here? Or was it something else? He couldn't tell. All he could feel was the fucking throbbing in his head like it was getting louder somehow. Maybe this guy was bringing it out, maybe he was a fucking werewolf because that would be his luck tonight, who knew. Kaden certainly didn’t. And he sure as fuck didn’t care as long as he moved out of his way. Thank god he did. Or he was tempted to throw a punch or something. That kind of night. “Why do you care?” he said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed at least 3 different kinds of painkillers, barely looking at the labels to see the difference between any of them. Didn’t care. “What’s it to you anyway?” Normally he would move on and let some weird stranger’s small talk lie but something about tonight made him want to pick a fight. An eyebrow quirked in what seemed to feel like a mixture of concern and curiosity as Kaden seemed keen to shove past Simon had the latter not complied. “Because you weren’t like this at your party,” He said, considering after the fact that perhaps it wasn’t his wisest move to show his “cards” so soon into the awkward small talk. Normally, he would’ve been more careful about how to proceed but so far, he’d seen Kaden twice now and he looked miserable both times. He glanced briefly at the medication Kaden had picked up - and he seemed to pay more attention to what they were than the younger man, at least. He didn’t say anything about that though and set his own contemplations back where they had sat on the shelf carefully. He wanted to add something else, something like ‘you seem like you need to yell at someone’ but he didn’t, keeping his comment brief and leading. He remembered the verbal spat they got into online a few weeks back, noting that he had to get ‘mean’ for Kaden to… react. He was hoping that might not’ve been the case this time.

Kaden’s brow furrowed as he turned to look back at the other man. “At my party?” he asked. Did he know this guy? Should he know this guy? He looked kind of familiar, sure. In that way that meant you could have passed each other in a hallway once or twice or been to the same bar a few different nights. Noting specific sprung to mind. “Do I know you?” Shit was this someone he worked with? Maybe he was supposed to know this guy. Putain. Either way, know him or not, Kaden didn’t need anyone seeing him like this. Didn’t need to chit chat about his miserable fucking life in the middle of the fucking pharmacy. Just when he was about to open his mouth to ask something more, a light overhead flickered. Only a little. He glanced up. It was just a shitty  fluorescent light in a beat down small town store. Had to be. Right? Putain. As Simon correctly predicted, the question was enough to give Kaden pause and the younger man regarded him. He entertained several different responses to Kaden’s question such as ‘no, I just work at the morgue’, ‘no but I know you’ and just the regular classic ‘no, sorry’ but he didn’t give an answer at all as Kaden seemed to open his mouth to say something more but he faltered and looked up at the light as it flickered. Simon didn’t turn his head upward but he did accompany the hunter in looking up briefly at the light - he had been in and out of that store many times since he first arrived and not once had the lights been faulty, at least not like that. “I, uh…” He picked an answer to Kaden’s question. “No, you don’t. At least not the face.” He cleared his throat. “I’m the guy that said he didn’t like dogs online and got some backlash from you.” Animal Control, he remembered. He himself had a dog named…. Abel. Be kind.

This conversation made less and less sense to him as it went on. Kaden had a feeling there was something this guy wasn’t saying but he couldn’t put a finger on it. “Right. You.” He may not be able to recognize this man but anyone who didn’t like dogs was automatically questionable in his book. At best. “Weird way to introduce yourself,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He searched the guy’s face for any clue for his angle. What the hell he was after. “So. Who are you? Why were you at that shit hole of a party anyway?” The lights cut out in the whole store. Kaden staggered, head darting back and forth like he could find the cause of this. A few seconds later, they flickered and came back on. Not good. “I was--” Simon started to reply when the lights in the whole store shut off for a few seconds. His eyes adjusted much faster when they turned off than when they turned back on and he narrowed his eyes faintly, not entirely too shaken about what seemed to be a basic power outage but Kaden’s body language suggested otherwise, giving Simon the impression that this wasn’t normal. Well… he was correct, it WASN’T but Simon opted to stay calm; he had his fair share of paranoid nights and he was certain that people oftentimes thought he looked similarly disheveled to the Hunter. “Are you okay?” He asked again, tilting his head slightly as he regarded Kaden with a slightly gentler expression. “You seem… nervous.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. Kaden was used to being the one in control of a supernatural situation, the problem solver. The one to swoop in with the answers and the ability to protect the uninitiated humans around him. Asking people if they were okay was his line. “Why do you care any--” Before he could finish, there was a crash from across the store. “Putain de merde,” he grumbled, mostly to himself. Not again. He took the boxes of drugs and shoved them onto a shelf. Any shelf. “Yeah, gotta go.” As fucking weird as this conversation had been, he had to get out of there now. As he pushed past the guy, the lights went out again. And this time they stayed out. Kaden froze in place. The few other people in the store screamed. No. No no no. “I just wanted Advil!” he shouted in French at the ceiling, like that’s where his mother was. Granted, she was a fucking poltergeist. She could be anywhere. Fuck. All he heard was another crash, this time in the opposite side of the store. The older man also turned his head sharply when the crash sounded off and when Kaden passed by him, making sure to make contact this time, Simon followed whether out of innate curiosity for the sound, Kaden’s clearly compromised mindset or some third purpose. The lights went out yet again, not to return and he almost ran into the younger man as the latter stopped suddenly. Simon himself tensed up this time as other people screamed but he had to be honest, he wasn’t sure why Kaden himself was now yelling in French, why the lights kept going out, or what that crash on the other side of the store was. He wanted to ask what was going on but given Kaden’s previous track record of… not being honest, he wasn’t sure if his question was going to get an answer so he silently clung close to Kaden as his blue eyes glanced towards the crash… he may not’ve known what was going on but he had a feeling that Kaden, the ever-efficient werewolf hunter, would have some sort of weapon or knowledge up his sleeve to at least bark an order at him if he could help.

By this point, it seemed like the other people in the store had filed out or were making their way to the door. Not “Are you okay?” guy, though. Whatever, Kaden didn’t have time to worry about that. “Yeah, now’s probably a good time to be anywhere but here,” he told the other man through grit teeth. Kaden ran back into one of the aisles on the way to the front of the store. Then he heard a creaking and a big slam. Well that sounded bad. Then another slam. And another and-- Putain. Before he knew it, he saw the entire aisle tilting forward onto him, boxes and plastic containers pummeling him. Shit. At least he finally gave Simon some direction on where to go, even if that was to leave the store. Though part of him wanted to go check up on the other customers, he was noting as he followed behind Kaden that everyone else had fled, smartly. He didn’t run the way Kaden did but his stride was purposeful though his mind still buzzed with curiosity rather than danger the way it should’ve - why did the lights go out? What was attacking the pharmacy? . . . Would he get a sale if he offered to help pick up afterwards? He was interrupted from is absent thinking when he heard the sound of something colliding with something else, then repeated like… dominos. He tensed further as the rhythmic crashing got louder and he glanced ahead just in time to see the shelf tilting and starting to tumble towards Kaden. His next couple moves were autonomous, not thinking and just reacting as he dove forward, rolling onto his back and throwing all four of his limbs up to catch the shelf. He felt a burst of adrenaline, a pulse through his body as his strength was thrown into holding the shelf up at least long enough for Kaden to escape without being totally crushed.

Kaden winced and ducked, arms above him, anticipating the shelf to come crashing down on him. Only it didn’t. He opened his eyes and saw the other guy holding the fucking thing. Shit. Also why didn’t he think of that? Putain. Kaden didn’t waste anymore time and shuffled out of the aisle. He gripped his hands around the edge of the shelf and pulled with all he had. Only way to be sure his current life saver didn’t get crushed as well. “Out!” he shouted to the other guy. Not sure how long he could hold it. He didn’t have to wonder long. A gust of wind raged through the store. Kaden held tight until his companion was out, even as it threatened to push him off his feet. As soon as he could, he let go and ran to the door. He pushed. It wouldn't open. He pulled. Nothing. He rattled it back and forth, rammed it. Stuck. Locked. Maybe. One bang on the glass with his first was enough to assure him it wasn’t glass at all  but fucking plastic, some sort of anti-shatter shit. Which sure, made sense in this town. Also fucking inconvenient at the moment. “Need a way out!” he yelled over to the guy, seemed like they were the only two unlucky bastards left in there. As soon as he saw Kaden get out from under it and hold it up for him, Simon flipped onto his hands and knees and skittered out himself so Kaden didn’t have to hold the thing up longer than absolutely necessary though it seemed as though everything was trying to get him to fail - he sensed that was a running trend for Kaden. His arms hurt from catching the shelf and even then he was wondering why he did that but neither of them were hurt that badly so far so they had that going for them. “Thanks,” He replied over the sounds of disarray and chaos that seemed to swirl about them. He saw the other man try the door before banging on the glass with his own balled fist. “Damn,” He muttered, turning on a heel to look for something that could help them break the glass and instead finding the front counter. A key? He glanced up and found himself sniffing the air. A vent? That might be efficient. A back door? He found that too much information was going through his head, body getting more tense and he felt his fingernails growing subconsciously. “What did you have in mind?” He called back.

Kaden looked for an exit sign, the kind that usually stayed lit even when the lights went out. Apparently not right now. Putain. “Back door maybe. If we can find it.” He took his phone out and used it as a flashlight as he shuffled through fallen items on the store’s floor, hoping to maybe find some salt. Or that fucking advil he wanted. Shoplifting didn’t feel like a fucking issue right at this point. So far all he saw was a lot of weird colorful shit he assumed was makeup. Some hair products. Hey, that was one he-- A blast of wind poured into the room. From fucking nowhere. But it was so strong, Kaden had to fight against it; products were lifted in the air and swirling around, whacking and slicing into his already cut and scabbed skin. “Door-- Need to-- Find it,” he said as he tried to shield his face from flying objects. He tapped the guy’s shoulder, pointing towards the direction he was headed when he felt it again. That chill down his spine. He was-- Putain de merde. Of course he was stuck in here with a fucking werewolf. “You know what, I don’t care,” he said as he climbed over shelves and battled through the wind, trying to pick his way to the back of the store. The wind only intensified as he walked away from the werewolf. Back door, right. In a few light hops, Simon went over to the counter and opened the most obvious drawer quickly to try to find the key that could open either of the doors. Not the first drawer, maybe the second? Claws scraped around inside the drawers until he caught a faint glimmer and he snatched a toothy key up. “Okay, okay,” He repeated to himself and quickly caught up to where Kaden was searching for things on the floor when another sudden blast of wind buffeted them both with boxed medicines and fine edges of makeup. He held one of his arms up as he also tried to shield his face, not caring quite so much but something spiked in him when Kaden touched him, brief as it was. He wanted to run, fight and attack simultaneously but he pushed what he felt were ‘primal desires’ down. Suddenly, though, Kaden turned and he heard Kaden say something along the lines of ‘I don’t care’ even through the whipping wind. “H-hey wait!” Simon called, still following after him. “I have the key!”

Kaden’s foot caught and he slipped on one of the shelves, banging his calf into another on the way down. He cried out in pain and felt the edges of flat backed packaging starting to lacerate his skin. Again. He winced and tried to push himself up. He just wanted to run away from this and he couldn’t even do that. Then he heard something that sounded like “keys” through the blasts of wind. Kaden wanted to scream. Of course the werewolf was the one to save him and get him out of here. Of course. And he was sure his mother wanted him to kill it but really, he was having trouble caring what she wanted right now. With a groan, he pushed himself up and headed back towards the fucking werewolf. “Great. Get us the fuck out. And then run.” In the darkness and wind and items flying around them, Simon saw Kaden stumble and it was then that the smell of blood greeted his nose. Another pulse through his body, clenching his clawed fists, cracking his neck and he planted himself on the ground, steeling against the wind as he pushed through to meet Kaden as the latter limped back to him. “Here--” Though he knew Kaden was surely going to protest, he ignored the other man’s resistance if he put any up and placed one of Kaden’s arms around his shoulders, keeping the key tightly in his hand. He didn’t know what was going on, but he knew every fiber of himself wanted to either try to kill this man or flee from him but he was determined to do neither as he pushed through the wind alongside Kaden. The store itself wasn’t very big and the emergency exit was within sight to him even in the pitch-black store so he kept going with a resolute pace and feeling Kaden’s warmth against his skin. “Okay, gimme one sec--” He pushed the key into the lock and struggled for a second to open the door, finally pushing it open and almost falling over as he tumbled forward, spilling onto the back patio.

Kaden grumbled but allowed himself to be helped out of the fucking tunnel of wind by the goddamn werewolf. As much as he hated asking for help, even more so when from a monster, he hated the idea of dying in a shit small town pharmacy because the ghost of his mother buried him with boxes of medicine and bottles of shampoo and packets of ramen. There was no way he could kill this werewolf either. Not in human form. He’d never even seen the change. Not that it seemed to matter to his mother. Still he sighed and pushed forward with the other man to the door. “Any faster,” he said through grit teeth, glancing behind him as the tunnel of wind in the center of the room picked up and began to spread. He bolted out of the door as soon as he could, then turned to slam it closed behind them both. “I’m going home. You should, too. If you know what’s good for you.” His voice had no warmth or appreciation to it, but it was better than the disdain most wolves garnered from him. “Thanks,” he muttered under his breath before turning to run back to his well warded apartment.

As soon as they were out, Kaden made sure to pull himself away from Simon, who exhaled heavily as he stretched his arms and legs; they were gonna be sore tomorrow. He didn’t know what he was expecting in terms of reactions from Kaden so it didn’t surprise him that the younger man was still abrasive towards him. Surely, he had to have figured out by now that Simon was a werewolf, which probably added to his innate hatred for him. Simon didn’t think much of it; at least he didn’t die in the store or get crushed by falling shelving units. He massaged his shoulders at the thought of that bit as he kept his eyes on Kaden with a certain alertness. As much as part of him wanted to scoff dismissively at Kaden’s warning - like he gave a single shit about suggesting what Simon should do that was good for him - he didn’t and instead gave a rather quiet “Happy to help” in response to Kaden’s half-hearted thank you. The Hunter departed and Simon sighed again, dropping to a crouch for a moment as he sat outside of the ruined pharmacy in the dark, clicking his sharpened nails together idly and finding himself wondering if he did the right thing.

[this-lioness]

Weekend Update, Admittedly a Bit Late

I am in a mood today, so forgive me for just brain dumping.  Hoping it will improve my outlook.

Well, we put off both sushi-making and counter-refinishing this weekend because Saturday was going to be (and was) so, so nice.  We did get sushi from Q-Mart, which satisifed me just fine.

We were on a hunt for dwarf cherry trees, but the overall pickings for fruit trees of any kind are pathetic right now. I suspect everyone is gussying up their back yards right now, hence the shortage.  Failing that, I’ve since ordered something called a “columnar apple tree”, which we should be able to grow in pots in the back.  We ordered one so far, and will get another -- of a slightly different variety -- once they’re back in stock, so they’ll be able to cross-pollinate.

Picked up some additional goodies for the garden, and filled up those five garden bags I got off Amazon.  Really liking those, I think next year I’ll get more of those instead of the buckets.

So right now we’re growing the following: Regular tomatoes (x2) Candyland tomatoes Red bell peppers (x2) Eggplant (x3) Zucchini Cucumber Pinto beans Corn Jalapenos Tobasco peppers Watermelon Acorn squash Onions (still not sure what kind, but I guess we’ll find out!) Parsley, Oregano, Basil and Catnip Sweet mint and chocolate mint Lavender Citronella Strawberries Plus the resident blackberries, raspberries and blueberries.

We still have the fig tree, and it still appears to be alive, but it’s in an extended dormancy.  It would be nice if it leafed out and sprang back, but we really don’t know what’s up with it.

The new garden bench arrived as well, so while Marc was assembling it I scrubbed the old one back to a nice bright white and we brought it over to my Mom’s, along with a big hanging flower basket for the front.  This weekend we’re going to go over and install some white lattice around the front porch, and I’m going to power-wash the siding. You can see a certain pride of home ownership in them now, which feels nice.  Jim wanted more flower baskets because a neighbor across the street had some out, and he needed to show them up.  Her veggies and herbs appear to be doing pretty well, too.

Their freezer came in yesterday!  We brought it over and got it all set up, so some time this week I’ll probably take my Mom to BJs to stock up on Stouffer’s meals, which she is already excited about.  She’s really keen to use it, which makes me happy.  She’s also going to go through all her Christmas ornaments and sort out a smaller quantity to keep so that we can sell the rest.  I actually plan on doing the same with ours tonight.  More room in the attic, less to fuss with at Christmas.

Jim is not walking very well, in part because he’s 86 and in part because he absolutely refuses to do any kind of exercises or physical therapy that would actually help him regain some mobility.  He’s finally conceded to a transport chair, so I spent quite a bit of time researching and pricing them.  They sell basic ones at Walmart for like $150, but he’s 6′2″ and with long legs, so most anything “regular” doesn’t fit him.  It also has to be collapsible and light enough for a 5′1″ woman (that’s me) to get it into and out of her trunk without too much hassle.

  I (think I) finally found one that will fit him comfortably, however, and now it’s on order.

With any luck he’ll like it more than he hates it, and we’ll be able to take him to the lake and for little outings.  At the worst he’ll despite it but he’ll suck it up for short trips to the doctor.

The greenhouse arrived today as well, and Marc has snuck off to start the assembly ahead of some expected wind and rain.  We’re also waiting on the delivery of a small fountain / water spout for the front pond, as the original is really at the end of its lifespan.

Oh, that’s the other thing!  While we were out looking for cherry trees we found a “bird feeding station” at one of the nurseries.  They’re normally between $400 - $500 online, but this one was just $220, and I talked them down to $200.

Basically it’s an iron arbor with some miscellaneous bits and pieces to hold bird feeders.  Instead we installed it in the back, straddling two of the blackberry beds, and are using it to hang any veggies that we don’t have room for on the ground (as well as the catnip, to keep it from getting loved to death.)

The berries are coming along nicely, in a bit of a bid for who wants to ripen first.  Marc helped me assemble some home-made bird scares out of CDs, tin-foil and laminated brightly-colored paper with drawn-on eyes.  I hope it works, although once things start ripening I may need to keep a closer eye on things.  I am highly suspicious of birds.

Just the same, I cleaned out two of our old feeders, bought two more, and we filled them and hung them out front for the birds to enjoy.  Maybe if we keep them fat on seed they won’t fuss around in the back (although I suspect Fidget has a lot to do with that as well.)

It’s been really nice to see the garden growing... little plants I had doubts about are getting tall and plucky.  They love to grow.  Sometimes we just like to walk around and check on everything, identifying the new bugs that are showing up to pollinate or just live in this tiny ecosystem we made.  My cityboy husband marvels on the regular how much he’s learned, and how much he loves the garden, its maintenance and care.

I have been having some... health frustrations for the past year and change.  They’re not serious, that I know of, but they have been greatly affecting my sense of self and well-being, and as time goes on and they don’t resolve it’s just getting more and more stressed out.  The only medical solution may be worse than the problem itself, so I’ve spent a lot of time today trying to get hold of a doctor or counselor or someone who can point me in the right direction, and won’t just keep giving the same trite advice without actually running tests on me. I almost bit the bullet and took the damn pill they were recommending, but upon calling the pharmacy discovered it’s almost $120 a month.  For something that 1) May not work and 2) May actually make me feel worse. Yay. 

So no.

I have a virtual visit with an endocrinologist on the 22nd, so we’ll see how that goes.  I’m tired of feeling like I’m living in someone else’s body, and that everyone’s response is basically to shrug and say, “Oh well, guess you should just suck it up forever.”

Today I made some banana applesauce muffins, and they were good.

Other than that, everything seems to be well.  Cats are fat and obnoxious and happy.  So are we, I suppose!

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #54. The birth of Kit Herondale.

It is a cold, wintry day in early 1997 when Rosemary Herondale finds out both the best and worst news of her life. Since November Rosemary has been feeling very odd but has paid little attention to it recently since she and Jack have been moving around so much. Right now they are living in a small 2 bedroom house in Los Angeles and have been here since late November. Now that they are no longer travelling around, Rosemary has not been able to keep her mind off how unwell she is feeling, so about an hour ago, just before Jack came home from the Shadow Market, Rosemary went to the local pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test and it came up positive almost immediately. 

The idea of having a baby is both thrilling and terrifying, Rosemary loves the idea of having a baby and being a mother but she is also terrified of the threat her lineage poses to her baby. At the minute she is sincerely considering adoption, as much as it would break her heart, it would be best for the baby.

“Rosie? Are you home?” Rosemary hears Jack calling for her from the living room. Wiping at her tears, Rosemary tucks the pregnancy test into her pocket and pulls herself up from the cold tile floor, where she has been sitting for the past few minutes, staring at the pregnancy test and trying to figure out what to do.

“How was The Shadow Market? Did you make any money?” Rosemary lightly asks when she walks out of the bathroom and into the living room where Jack is standing. 

“Yes I did, it was quiet a good night actually.” Jack replies. Rosemary smiles weakly at him, her heart racing as she thinks about telling him her news.

“So you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately?” She begins, in a nervous tone.

“Yeah, why?” Jack replies. 

“I-I found out why that is today. Jack... I-I’m pregnant.” Jack’s eyes widen in disbelief. 

“But.. but we were careful, we always use a condom, a-and you said you got that mundane pill.” Jack stammers. It is true that a few months ago Rosemary went to a mundane doctor and got the contraceptive pill, but truth be told she has never been good at remembering to take it and has missed quiet a few.

“I did but... I forgot to take it a few times and the mundane doctor said it’s not 100% effective unless I take it every day without fail, so I guess I missed enough pills for it not to work.” Rosemary quietly says, tears forming in her eyes. 

“W-what are we going to do Rosie? We can’t have a baby, we can’t travel around with a baby!” Jack exclaims. 

“I... I don’t know Jack, I want this baby so badly and I think we can manage it. I can easily hide my pregnancy, if everything is smooth and easy I don’t need to see even a mundane doctor, and if things get complicated I can call on that Brother Zachariah, with this.” Rosemary holds up her heron necklace which Brother Zachariah has enchanted to allow her to call for him if she ever needs him. “And things are good here in LA, I think we might be safe here, if nothing happens through my pregnancy we can stay here.” She adds in a hopeful tone, placing her hand over her stomach. Rosemary hated all the moving her family did when she was a child, and she does not want the same for her son, but she is feeling optimistic that they may have finally escaped the Riders Of Manon, for once and for all.

“Rosemary I don’t think this is a good idea, even if we have managed to evade The Riders, this baby will still have Shadowhunter blood and need the protective spells placed on him and if we’re hiding from the Clave we can’t exactly call on The Silent Brother and Iron Sisters can we?” Jack gently says, not wanting to upset Rosemary. Secretly he’s not just trying to convince his wife not to have this baby because of the risks a baby poses to them, but because he doesn’t want a baby, not now not ever, and he never thought Rosemary would want a child either. 

“He won’t need the protection runes, he won’t be raised as a Shadowhunter, we’ll keep him away from The Shadow Market and other such places and won’t have him around when you have clients, as long as we can keep him away from the Shadowhunters and the Faeries, we can keep him safe.” Rosemary calmly yet firmly says. She trusts Brother Zachariah, just about, but not an Iron Sister, and the protection runes cannot be placed without an Iron Sister, but her baby will be just fine without them, she’ll make sure of that. 

“And you really trust this Brother Zachariah not to report us to The Clave if we end up needing him?” Jack asks, trying not to let his anger out. 

“Yes, yes I do. I want this baby Jack, and I’m keeping it, with or without you.You can leave if you want but if you’re going to do then do it now.” Rosemary firmly says, holding back her tears. She loves Jack with all her heart and the thought of him leaving her breaks her heart, but she is not going to choose him over her baby. 

Jack sighs and runs his hands through his hair before grasping Rosemary’s hands in his. 

“Of course I’m not going to leave you Rosie, I love you, I’m just worried about how a baby will affect us.” He softly says. Rosemary smiles weakly and says 

“You have nothing to worry about Jack, a baby is only going to make our relationship even stronger, I understand that you’re nervous but you’ll feel different when the baby is here.” Jack smiles softly and brushes Rosemary’s hair back from her face. 

“I hope so.” He quietly says, hoping that he can grow to love this baby, for Rosemary’s sake. 

Over the next few weeks Rosemary grows to love her baby more and more and becomes more and more determined to keep them safe. Throughout the whole pregnancy she is extremely cautious, watching our for blood every time she changes, eating healthy, getting plenty of exercise, being careful not to strain herself or stress herself out, and when the baby begins to kick she counts the kicks every single day, doing everything she can to ensure her baby is safe and healthy. Jack has grown distant throughout the pregnancy, staying out later, going out to work earlier, changing the subject every time Rosemary brings up the baby, not wanting to have sex, and barely acknowledging the fact that they are going to have a baby.

Right now Rosemary is just a few weeks from her due date and has everything ready for the birth. She has done some research throughout the pregnancy about how to have a natural home birth, and read a lot about water births, so she has decided to labor and deliver in the bathtub with only Jack’s assistance, or Brother Zachariah’s if anything goes amiss. 

“I can’t believe this little one could be here any day now. I’ve been thinking about names, what do you think of Christopher for a boy and Grace for a girl?” Rosemary softly asks Jack, turning to look at him sitting next to her on the sofa. 

“Yeah fine, whatever you want. Look Rosie are you really sure about not having a midwife or anyone around for the birth? I’m worried about what could happen to you.” Jack quietly says in a tone full of fear and worry.

“I’m sure Jack, I want to keep as low a profile as possible, and if I even think anything is wrong, I will use my necklace to summon Brother Zachariah.” Rosemary assures him.  

“Maybe we could ask him to be here just in case?” Jack hopefully asks, worried beyond belief for his wife’s well being. 

“No Jack that’s not what I want and you know that, everything will be fine, okay?” Rosemary softly says, gently squeezing her husband’s hand. Jack sighs, knowing that there’s no point in arguing with Rosemary anymore, his wife is one of the most stubborn people he met, it’s one of the things that made him fall in love with her when they met at 16.

“Alright, well I better head out, The Shadow Market will be starting up soon, I need to set up and get a good spot.” Jack says, pushing himself off the sofa and grabbing his car keys. 

“Do you have to go now? It’s only 8:00, the market doesn’t start till 10:00, right?” Rosemary asks, hurt and upset that her husband clearly is eager to get away from her and not spend time with her. 

“Yeah but like I said I need to set up and stuff, don’t wait up for me, you and the baby need all the rest you can get, see you in the morning.” Jack says, brushing a kiss across her forehead before walking out the door.  

Rosemary sighs and runs a hand down her swollen stomach, holding back her tears of frustration. 

“I don’t get it baby, ever since we found out about you, your dad has been so distant and quiet, I don’t think he wants to be a dad, but I gave him the chance to walk away and he didn’t take it, i don’t know what to do.” Rosemary quietly says, tracing patterns on her swollen stomach, her mind racing with thoughts of how to save her marriage. Just then, Rosemary feels an intense wave-like pain wash over her, starting from her back and moving to the front of her lower abdomen. 

Rosemary scrunches her face up in pain and can’t hold back a groan of pain. When the pain passes a few minutes later, Rosemary scrambles for her phone on the side table beside the sofa, and dials Jack’s number with shaky hands, praying he will pick up. 

“Rosemary this really isn’t a great time, I’m just pulling up to The Market.” Jack says in a tone of annoyance, causing Rosemary’s stomach to sink. 

“I-I Jack I think...I think the baby is coming.” She stammers. 

“Are you sure?”Jack asks, his tone more alert now. 

“N-no but I can’t imagine the pain I just had was a fake contraction.” Rosemary says. 

“Okay I’m coming home, I’ll be home in five minutes.” Jack firmly says, hanging up before Rosemary can reply.

On shaky legs, Rosemary slowly makes her way to the bathroom and starts to run herself a bath, before changing into just a  long, over sized tank top. 

10 minutes later Jack comes in to find Rosemary sitting in the bathtub with a basin, scissors, towels and blankets laid out on the closed toilet seat lid.

“Rosie are you alright?” Jack softly asking, kneeling beside the bath and grasping his wife’s hand in his. Rosemary grips his hand tightly and nods while gritting her teeth. 

“Y-yeah, the water helps the pain.” Rosemary says in a breathy tone. Jack softly rubs her back and kisses her temple, wanting to be here to support his wife through this, even if he doesn’t want the baby that’s about to be born.

Rosemary’s labor is long and painful but thankfully totally uncomplicated. She labors throughout the rest of the night. A few times Rosemary gets out of the bath and lies on the sofa for a while, and tries to grab some sleep. By the time 8:00 a.m. rolls around, Rosemary is ready to push, and she pushes for an hour in total. Right now she is just seconds from bringing her baby into the world. 

Rosemary takes a deep breath and pushes down once more, and seconds later she feels a weight lift from her. With a gasp, Rosemary reaches down into the water and scoops her baby into her arms and they let out a loud wail. 

“Oh my god, oh baby hi, hi baby I love you so much. Oh Jack we have a boy.” Rosemary says in a breathy, teary tone, holding her baby tightly against her chest, tears of joy rolling down her face. Jack laughs lightly, unable to believe what he just witnessed, he has a whole new level of admiration and appreciation for his wife, and now that the baby is here, Jack is beginning to change his mind about him, perhaps having a baby won’t be the worst thing in the world.

“He’s beautiful.” Jack softly says, stroking the baby’s blood streaked cheek.

“Christopher, Christopher Jonathan Rook. What do you think of Kit as a nickname for him Jack?” Rosemary softly asks, gazing down at her son, her heart swelling with a love she never knew she could feel. 

“I like it.” Jack agrees, smiling at his wife and son. 

Rosemary presses her lips to Kit’s forehead and breathes in his scent. 

“My sweet Kit, mommy loves you so much Kit.” She coos, running her hand over his thin wispy blonde hair, identical to her own. Kit begins to blink open his eyes, revealing beautiful big blue eyes just like his mother’s, and stares up at her with fascination and love. “He’s so perfect.” She adds in a tight tone, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks. 

“Yes he is, do you want to get out get dried and dressed now? I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable sitting in a lukewarm bath with blood and afterbirth.” Jack says in an amused tone. 

“Yes and then I can feed him, can you dress him while I dry and change?” Rosemary asks, holding the baby out to Jack. 

“Maybe you should do it Rosie, I don’t want to hurt him.” Jack says, leaning away from her outstretched arms, terrified of hurting his son. 

“Jack, I know you’re scared, I am too, but I need your help, you promised you’d help me, I gave you the chance to walk away and you didn’t take it, you said you wanted to stay with me.” Rosemary quietly says, wishing Jack would be more supportive of her, wishing her mother was still around to help her now, wishing she had anyone to help her with the baby and to help her and Jack adjust to parenthood. 

“I do want to stay with you Rosie, of course I do, but I’m no good with kids, you are, I’ve seen you with the little orphans at the Shadow Markets and little mundane kids out and about, you’re great with kids and you’re going to be a great mom, I can be the one to provide for us and you can look after Christopher.” Jack hurriedly explains, not wanting to hurt and upset Rosemary, but needing her to understand where he is coming from and why he is reluctant to be alone with the baby. 

“Jack that will never work, I can’t do this alone, I won’t be able to do much physically in the next few weeks while I recover, I’m going to need your help washing him and dressing him and getting him to sleep, the only thing I can do on my own is feed him but even that might not work out and then I’ll need your help there too, I can’t raise him alone Jack, and he needs his dad.” Rosemary pleads with her husband, wondering if she should have given Christopher up like she had thought of doing early in her pregnancy,  wondering if he would’ve had his best shot with someone else.

“I... I guess I can at least try and get him dressed while you get changed and dried.” Jack says, giving in to his wife’s pleas, feeling horrific and guilty for already being such a bad father to Christopher and being such a letdown to Rosemary. 

An hour later Rosemary has dried off and changed from her wet, bloody top into a soft baggy t-shirt and a loose pair of cotton shorts. Jack had not managed to get Christopher dressed so Rosemary did that before getting into bed with Jack’s help and settling down with Christopher to feed him. Right now she is lying on her side, with Christopher beside her, nursing, and Jack lying on his side of the bed, facing her. 

“I really can’t do this alone Jack.” Rosemary quietly says, stroking her son’s few tufts of golden blonde hair, still amazed over the love she feels for this little boy. 

“I know, I know and I promise I will do my best to help out, both in terms of providing for us and in terms of helping out with Kit.” Jack promises, vowing to himself that he will try his damnedest to love this kid as much as Rosemary clearly does, despite not wanting to he will do his best to bond with Kit and take care of him, because that is what Rosemary wants, and he will do anything for Rosemary. 

Later that night when Rosemary and Jack are awoken to the baby crying in his bassinet, Jack doesn’t move, hoping Rosemary will take care of it, this time at least. 

“Jack can you get him? It hurts so much for me to get up.” Rosemary asks her husband in a pained tone, also fighting to stay awake and keep her eyes open after such a long, difficult evening. 

Holding back a sigh, Jack agrees and pads over to the bassinet by Rosemary’s side of the bed, where little Kit is lying wide awake, his blue eyes shimmering with tears. 

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong, you got a dirty diaper?” Jack quietly says, bending down to lift his son up and awkwardly cradle him, like Rosemary had shown him earlier. He takes him over to the small changing station they had set up in the corner of the room, lays him down and begins to snap open the buttons on his onsie. The minute Kit realizes what’s going on, he starts to scream bloody murder at the top of his lungs, causing Jack to fumbled with the straps on his diaper and become flustered. “Shhh Kit, quiet, you’re distracting me.” Jack grumbles, wincing as Kit’s shrieking cries grow higher in pitch and louder in tone. After another few seconds of unsuccessfully changing the baby, Jack feels his patience grow extremely thin. “Oh for God’s sake I can’t do this!” Jack exclaims, throwing the diaper down and turning away from the screaming baby. A few seconds later Rosemary hears their bedroom door open and close, followed shortly by the roar of the car engine. Forgetting her pain, Rosemary pushes herself up and hurries across the room to the changing table, where her poor baby has been left with no diaper, half naked and unassisted on a high surface he would easily roll off of. 

“Oh shh baby it’s okay, mama’s got you now, lets get you cleaned up.” Rosemary coos to the baby, quickly getting him cleaned up, into a new diaper and buttoned back into his onsie. She then lifts him up and holds him against her shoulder, kissing his little cheek as cries die down and he snuggles into her. “Your daddy’s just having a hard time adjusting Kit, and that’s okay, but he should never have left you alone on the changing station, I don’t think I can trust him alone with you.” She quietly says, settling into the rocking chair beside the changing station, cradling Kit in her arms so they can look at each other. “You are the most precious thing in the whole world my baby boy, you are my everything and I will do everything and anything I can to keep you safe, I love you so much.” She whispers, letting Kit grip onto her finger, holding her precious baby tight and close, breathing in his scent and thanking whatever higher power is out there, for blessing her with the most perfect baby there ever was.

16 years later, to the day, after having to leave her son and then sacrificing her life for him, Rosemary’s spirit watches proudly as Kit sits between Tessa and Jem Carstairs with their daughter Mina in his lap, happier than she has ever seen him.

“You know sixteen seems to be the age when most people find the one they’re meant to be with, Tessa met Will and I when she was sixteen, Clary met Jace at sixteen, Isabelle met Simon at sixteen, maybe you’ll find someone now, I’ve seen the way you look at that boy who works in the shop down the road, you like him don’t you?” Jem teases Kit, causing him to flush bright red. 

“Maybe.” Kit quietly admits, shrugging his shoulders. 

“You should ask him out.” Tessa encourages,wanting Kit to be happy. 

“Mom I’m pretty sure he’s straight, it’s just a little crush, no big deal.” Kit says. 

“I thought you said no one was 100% straight.” Jem jokingly says, smiling at the memory of Kit ranting about how he firmly believes no one is entirely straight, it reminded him of the way Will use to behave. 

“Oh I did say that didn’t I? Well I’m not really interested in him anyway, like I said, it’s just a small crush, anyway I don’t think Mina would approve of having to share my attention with my boyfriend or girlfriend, would you Min-Min?” Kit says, holding his six month old sister above his head, causing her to shriek with laughter.

“By the angel Kit be careful, she’s a wriggly little thing.” Jem says in a worried tone, ready to leap forward and catch Mina if she wriggles out of her brother’s grip.

“Relax dad I’ve got her, you’re such a worry-wart.” Kit says in a light tone, lowering Mina down onto his lap and tipping her back toward the floor, keeping a firm grip on her waist. “Mina loves when I do dangerous stuff with her, she can’t help it, she’s a Shadowhunter.” He adds, smiling as Mina laughs loudly at her brother’s antics.

“I can’t help it either, you’re my kids, the most precious things in the world to me, I’m always going to worry about you.” Jem says, ruffling Kit’s hair and kissing Mina’s cheek.

“The same goes for me you know, I’m just use to this because James and Lucie were even more reckless than you and Mina.” Tessa says in an amused tone, getting up from her seat and bending to kiss both her children on the cheek. 

“Mom!” Kit exclaims in a tone of embarrassment. Tessa laughs and pats his cheek lightly. 

“Just letting you know I love you.” Tessa says, giving Mina another kiss and untangling her little hand from her hair. Tessa then heads out to the kitchen to get Kit’s present from Mina, leaving Jem teasing Kit about his love-life. 

As Tessa rummages through the cupboard to find the present she and Jem had bought for Kit but signed in Mina’s name, she swears she feels a presence behind her and a soft, feminine voice quietly says

“Thank you for loving my son, thank you for being his mother.” She whips around but sees nothing there. Shrugging it off as a trick of the mind, Tessa grabs the gift and heads back into her husband and children, while Rosemary is able to rest peacefully knowing her son is cared for and loved.

[freedomartspress]

Three Poems — Tongo Eisen Martin

Kick Drum Only

All street life to a certain extent starts fair

Sometimes with a spiritual memory even

Predawn soul-clap/ your father dying even

Maybe I’ve pushed the city too far

My sensitivities to landfill districting and minstrel whistles/

White supremacist graffiti on westbound rail guards 

-all overcome and reauthored

The garbage is growing voices

Condensed Marxism 

modal gangsterism for a warrior-depressive

Underpass in my pocket

because I am a deity

or decent bid on the Panther name 

revolutionary violence that chose its own protagonists 

or muted stage of genius

A merciful Marxism        

Disquieted home life 

Or metaphor for relaxing next to a person 

Who is relaxing next to a gun

I stare at my father for a few seconds 

Then return to my upbringing

Return to the souls of Ohio Black folks

Revolution is damn near pagan at this point

You know what the clown wants? The respect of the ant. 

Wants a pen cap full of bullets

Wants to see their ancestors in broad daylight

I am not tired of these rooms; just tired of the world that give them a relativity 

My only change of clothes prosecuted

The government has finally learned how to write poems

shoot-outs that briefly align…

that make up a parable

white bodies are paid well, I posit

do white men actually even have leaders?

all white people are white men

white men will only ever be metaphors

all I do is practice, Lord

A rat pictures a river

Can almost taste the racial divide

Can almost roll a family member’s head into a city hall legislative chamber

Knows who in this good book will fly

I have decided not to talk out of anger ever again, Lord

Met my wife at the same time I met new audience members for our pain

We passed each other cigarettes and watched cops win

A city gone uniquely linear

Harlem of the West due a true universe 

 “I will always remember you in fancy clothes,” my wife said 

so here I sit… twisting in silk ideation

  My rifle made of tar

My targets made of an honest language

This San Francisco poetry is how God knows that it is me whining 

Writing among the lesser-respected wolves

Lesser-observed militarization

Dixie-less prison bookkeeping/I mean the California gray-coats are coming 

lynch mob gossip and bourgeois debt collection

I mean, it’s tempting to change professions mid-poem

in a Chicago briefing, a white sergeant saying, “blank slate for all of us after this Black organizer is dead.”

standard academics toasting two-buck wine at the tank parade

bay of nothing, Lord

  nuclear cobblestones, gunline athleticism  

and the last of the inherited asthma

children given white dolls to play with and fear

facial expressions borrowed from rich people’s shoe strings

I can hear hate

And teach hate

And call tools by people names

And name people dead to themselves

no one getting naturalized except federal agents soon 

carving the equator into throats soon

I’m sorry to make you relive all of this, Lord

pre-dawn monarchy 

friends putting up politician posters then snorting the remainder of the paste

minstrel scripts shoveled into the walls by their elders

my children sharpening quarters on the city’s edge

For these audiences

I project myself into a ghost like state

For these gangsters, I do the same

every now and then, we take a nervous look east

Sleep becomes Christ

Sleep starts growing a racial identity

do you ever spiral, Lord?

has the gang-age betrayed us?

be patient with my poems, Lord

So much pain

there is a point to crime… 

There has to be if race traitors come with it

 Lord, is that my revolver in your hand?

Better presidents than these have yawned at cages

Have called us holy slaves

Filled the school libraries with cop documentaries

Baby, I don’t have money for food

I have no present moment at all

/

I Do Not Know the Spelling of Money

I go to the railroad tracks

And follow them to the station of my enemies

A cobalt-toothed man pitches pennies at my mugshot negative

All over the united states, there are

Toddlers in the rock

I see why everyone out here got in the big cosmic basket

And why blood agreements mean a lot

And why I get shot back at

I understand the psycho-spiritual refusal to write white history or take the glass freeway

White skin tattooed on my right forearm 

Ricochet sewage near where I collapsed 

into a rat-infested manhood

My new existence as living graffiti 

In the kitchen with

a lot of gun cylinders to hack up

House of God in part

No cops in part

My body brings down the Christmas 

The new bullets pray over blankets made from old bullets

Pray over the 28th hour’s next beauty mark

Extrajudicial confederate statue restoration 

the waist band before the next protest poster 

By the way,

Time is not an illusion, your honor

I will return in a few whirlwinds

I will save your desk for last

You are witty, your honor

You’re moving money again, your honor

It is only raining one thing: non-white cops

And prison guard shadows 

Reminding me of

Spoiled milk floating on an oil spill

A neighborhood making a lot of fuss over its demise

A new lake for a Black Panther Party

Malcom X’s ballroom jacket slung over my son’s shoulders

Pharmacy doors mid-slide

         The figment of village

                     a noon noose to a new white preacher

Wiretaps in the discount kitchen tile

-All in an abstract painting of a president

Bought slavers some time, didn’t it?

The tantric screeches of military bolts and Election-Tuesday cars

A cold-blooded study in leg irons

Leg irons in tornado shelters

Leg irons inside your body

  Proof that some white people have actually fondled nooses

That sundown couples 

made their vows of love over   

opaque peach plastic

and bolt action audiences     

Man, the Medgar Evers-second is definitely my favorite law of science

Fondled news clippings and primitive Methodists 

My arm changes imperialisms 

Simple policing vs. Structural frenzies

Elementary school script vs. Even whiter white spectrums

Artless bleeding and

the challenge of watching civilians think

     “terrible rituals they have around the corner. They let their elders beg for public mercy…beg for settler polity”

“I am going to go ahead and sharpen these kids’ heads into arrows myself and see how much gravy spills out of family crests.”

Modern fans of war

    What with their t-shirt poems

    And t-shirt guilt

And me, having on the cheapest pair of shoes on the bus, 

I have no choice but to read the city walls for signs of my life

                                                                                     /

The Chicago Prairie Fire

First, I must apologize to the souls of the house

I am wearing the cheek bones of the mask only

Pill bottle, my name is yours

Name tagged on the side of a factory of wrists

Teeth of the mask now

Back of the head of the mask now 

        New phase of anti-anthropomorphism fending for real faces

Stuck with one of those cultures that believes I chose this family

I am not creative

Just the silliest of the revolutionaries

My blood drying on 

   my only jacket

just as God got playful

the police state’s psychic middlemen

Evangelizing for the creation of an un-masses 

An un-Medgar

Blood of a lamb less racialized

or awesome prison sentence

Good God

Elder-abuse hired for the low

dog eat genius

Right angle made between a point

On a Louisiana plantation

And 5-year old’s rubber ball 

3 feet high and falling

like a deportee plane 

to complete my interpretation 

(of garden variety genocide) 

I am small talk

about loving your enemies

A little more realistically

About paper tigers 

And also gold…

I need my left hand back 

I broke my neck on the piano keys

Found paradise in a fistfight

Maybe I should check into the Cuba line

Watching the universe’s last metronomes

some call Black Jacobins

Just wait…

These religions will start resigning in a decade or two

Some colorfully 

Some transactional-ly

In a cotton gothic society

Class betrayal gone glassless/ I mean ironically/ my window started fogging over too 

Wondering which Haiti will get me through this winter

Which poem houses souls

Which socialist breakthroughs

Breakthroughs like ten steps back

Then finally stillness

Stillness

Then stillness among families

a John Brown biography takes a bow

I’m up next to introduce Prosser to Monk

I remember childhood

Remember the word “Childhood” being a beginning 

Scribbling on an amazing grace 

I rented this body from some circumference of slavery

Remember being kicked out of the Midwest

Strange fruit theater

Lithium and circuses

Likeminded stomachs 

The ruling class blessing their blank checks with levy foam…

                            with opioid tea 

Sentient dollar bills yelling to each other pocket to pocket

Cello stands in the precinct for accompanying counterrevolutionaries 

My mother raised me with a simple pain

A poet loses his mind, you know, like the room has weather

Or first-girlfriend gravity

Police-knock gravity 

Mind-game gravity

Or revolution languishing behind 

The sugar in my good friend’s mind

“The difference between me and you

Is that the madness

Wants me forever”

A pair of apartments

Defining both my family

And political composure

Books behind my back

Bail money paved into the streets

Playing:

Euphoria

Euphoria

Cliché

Bracing for the medicine’s recoil

Sharing a dirty deli sandwich with my friends

Black Jacobins

Underground topography

Or grandmother’s hands

Psychology of the mask now

Teeth of the mask again

—

Originally from San Francisco, Tongo Eisen-Martin is a movement worker and educator who has organized against mass incarceration and extra-judicial killing of Black people throughout the United States. His latest curriculum on extrajudicial killing of Black people, We Charge Genocide Again, has been used as an educational and organizing tool throughout the country. His book of poems, Someone’s Dead Already was nominated for a California Book Award.