Survey #399

“i was raised by the devil’s own kin, taught me that a good time was never a sin”

Do you like wine? NOOOOOOO that shit is gross. Explain the grossest thing that's ever happened to you? Having an infected pilonidal cyst drained. Would you rather go on holiday somewhere warm or somewhere cold? Cold, for sure. What would be your ideal pet? I reeeeaaaally want a very visibly sunset morph ball python one day. The really pretty ones are expensive as fuck, but omg, I want one so badly. What was the last book you were required to read for school? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It was fantastic. Would you chew somebody else's gum? EW FUCK NO. What was the last type of meat you ate? Chicken. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Whenever they wanted, as long as a professional did it. Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Probably McDonald's. Bats are not spooky or are they? I adore bats. Do you like the song "Womanizer?" Unabashedly, yes, haha. I love the beat and it's really catchy. Do you know how to change a tire? Nope. How big is your backyard? Very small. What is your favorite Nintendo 64 game? I've actually never played a Nintendo 64. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? I don't want any. Does a career in finance sound interesting to you? Absolutely not. When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I. HATE. Beans. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Those that deny the existence of dinosaurs. Fossils don't lie. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. What’s your favorite dessert? That's so hard, but probably cheesecake. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? Vanilla ice cream. Do you know anybody who is ambidextrous? Sara. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Will you be attending any weddings in the near future? No. If you have glasses, have you ever smashed them? No. What was the last thing you got a really good deal on? My APAP mask. Insurance covered it way more than even the women in the office were used to so had to look into it. Insurance has been nice to me lately, from TMS to this. What was the last reason you took medicine? I had a massive headache. Any important birthdays coming up? My older sister's was today, and her eldest daughter's is in two days. Mark's birthday is the 28th, and that's like a holiday in my book lmao. What colour are your headphones? These earplugs are pink. How do you express your creativity? I mostly write RP and rarely poems. I also like to draw sometimes, and I'm big into photography. Gypsies or gnomes? Gypsies. Dragons or fairies? Dragons are my favorite mythological creatures. Elves or pixies? Elves. Where is your favourite place to get breakfast? Maybe Cracker Barrel? Or Waffle House. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer. I hated it. Nickname you’re called the most? "Britt" is the most used. Do you sleep on your stomach? I can't now with my mask. -_- That's how I usually slept. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Would you ever want a super-realistic baby doll? Fuuuuuuuuuck no. I don't like dolls, never mind realistic ones. Ladybugs or bumblebees? Ladybugs. <3 What is the best thing that ever happened to you? My first round of a partial hospitalization program and meeting my psychiatrist. Both that therapy and proper medication is the reason I'm alive. What is something really hurtful someone you love has said to you? That I was an "ungrateful bitch." What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? One for advanced ball python husbandry. There are some SERIOUS elitists in there, but it does have great information. Did your mom ever own a typewriter? I think she did? We used to have one, so. What would you have your bridesmaids wear? Maybe orange. I want to wear a black dress and get married in the fall, so, Halloween vibes! :') Where do you want to go on your honeymoon? I think Alaska. Do you wear a watch every day? I never do. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? No, thankfully. Not yet, anyway. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I am much happier with pets. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. Have you been hurt more by friend break-ups or romantic break-ups? Romantic ones. Who is/was the best friend you have ever had? Sara. Do you own a trenchcoat? No, but I wish. They're badass. Name the hardiest piece of technology you own? My iPod that I've had since middle school. That bitch STILL works, and I use it heavily. Are you currently in a smoking environment? No; people aren't allowed to smoke in our house. Have you ever owned a tire swing? No. Does anyone you know own a bird that can talk? My old friend Alex did. I don't know if I can call her my "friend" anymore because I haven't seen or heard from her in well over a year at the bare minimum. Do you ever not speak to someone because you’re afraid you’ll annoy them? STORY OF MY LIFE. Is there any drama going on in your circle of friends? No. But I don't really have a "circle" of friends to begin with. Have you ever lost your luggage at an airport? No. Have you ever been on a rollercoaster that actually scared you? I don't go on rollercoasters. If given the opportunity, would you act in a commercial? No. Do you believe in finders keepers in most situations? No. How many pills do you currently take a day? Ugh... Now keep in mind this number encompasses medications that I just have to take a larger dose of that particular med; I don't take this number of different prescriptions. AS a whole though, I take uhhh. Somewhere around nine or ten in the morning, and six at night. I might be off about my morning pills. What do you take medication for? Bipolarity and depression, anxiety, OCD, severe heartburn, even more intense nightmares, uhhh... maybe I'm forgetting others? Idk, man. I'm on too many. Have you ever had a bag stolen? No. What class from high school did you love the most? Art. What class did you hate the most? Economics. If you don’t have a car, do you wish you did? Not at this very moment, because it'd be useless as I don't currently drive. Have you ever had a job you loved? Nope. What, if anything, do you substitute for fries? I just eat normal fries when they're offered. Have you ever been in a building that was on fire? No. Have you ever written a poem for someone? At least twice. Have you been best friends with someone of a different race? Yes. Who’s the last person who cussed you out in anger? I think only my grandmother has done that. Who is the person you are closest to that you’ve meet online? Sara. Have you friended your parents on FB? Mom, yes, while Dad doesn't have one. What do you absolutely have to have to make your birthday feel special? My family. Mice or roaches? I love mice, but roaches creep me out. Have you ever received a gift and truly did not know what it was? Yes. A family friend is good at that. Is there anyone whose grave you visit? No. Do you like being in pictures? NO. Do you travel a lot? Not at all. Have you ever eaten a dog treat? No. I've eaten a guinea pig treat though, haha. And it wasn't awful. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, but turns out my alcohol tolerance is too high while only liking weak alcohol to begin with. Have you played cards recently? No. Is there a certain song you like to headbang to? I don't do that, I'd get way too dizzy, and besides, I don't want a headache. Anything you might be giving up on soon? I've been wondering if I should (for the most part) abandon human photography. I've lost so much passion for it, and besides, I feel like I'm going nowhere with it. I know I really, really shouldn't, though. Have you ever captured a moth? I put a caterpillar in one of those little plastic habitats once as a kid that grew into a moth. I then released it, of course. When was the last time you changed your picture on Facebook? It's been months. Do you have a really fat cat? No, he's healthy. Do your initials spell a word? No. Have you ever made a business card for yourself? No. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? Yes, that was my favorite! Are there any recipes you have memorized? No. Do you know your multiplication times tables? No. Do your parents allow you to have your privacy? Yes. Have you ever been severely burned? No. Did you ever dream that you had a baby? I've had many, actually. Guess with who. What was the weirdest thing you've ever seen cross the road? I want to say a turkey? Or maybe it was beside the road.

Chapter Two

Present Day-Coming Home

TW: Angel is an angsty prick

Present Day

She packs her last bag and grabs her things. She was going home today. EZ was being released today and she didn’t want to miss it. Getting on her bike, she clips on her helmet and rides for Santo Padre. Her first stop is Pop’s Carniceria.

“Excuse me, por favor! Can I get two hamborguesas?” She asks, tapping the counter. As pop turns to face her, he smiles so wide she can barely see his twinkling eyes.

“Chiquita! Excuse me, folks. My daughter is here.” He grins as he slides around the counter to grip her so tightly in a hug that she can’t breathe. “Chiquita, we’ve missed you so much.” He murmurs. “You came home to see Ezekiel?” He asks.

“Si, Pop. Of course, mi mejor amigo. Mi hermano.” She smiles, letting him lead her to a seat.

“EZ! Come out from back there! Take off your apron!” He calls, getting back to the customers. Her nerves overwhelming her as she waits for him. He was her best friend, he’d accidentally killed a cop, but she loved him like a brother. She loved him more than most. She watches the back cooler door as it swings open, revealing a taller, buzz cut man, with a goatee and large arms and chest. He was much thicker than she remembered. Prison would do that. She nods to herself.

“Pop! I was almost done with the roas— oh my god!” He shouts, rushing her, lifting her out of the chair and swinging her around as if they were young again. “Chiquita!” He whispers, holding tight to her as he places her back on her feet.

“I was thinking about moving home, ya know?” She coughs, looking to Pop and the Ezekiel.

“Move home? For real?” He asks, eyeing her.

“Si, mi hermano. Is that okay?” She asks, looking between him and Pop once more.

“Si Si Si! You can stay with me!” Pop responds before she says anything else.

“Oh pop, I don’t want to —“

“Impose? Sweet girl, you could never.” He assures, gripping her shoulder. “Dinner at my place. You can have your old bedroom.” He smiles, patting her back.

“Yeah, after she moves Angel’s shit out of it.” Pop chuckles with Ezekiel at the inside joke that she didn’t understand.

“Why is Angel’s stuff in my old bedroom?”

“Chiquita- sometimes Angel would go in there that first few weeks after you left just to sit. Sometimes he even fell asleep there. He really missed you Chiquita. No one challenged him, or made him as mad as you did.” Pop nods, shooing them out of the restaurant. “You two go catch up! Start dinner! I’ll call Angel!” Pop calls as they scurry out the door like a couple of teenagers.

“He really slept in my room?” EZ nods, hopping on his bike and looking for her car. With a huge smile, he watches her climb on her own Harley with ape hanger handles and kicks it to life. They race back to Pop’s, EZ only winning because she got stopped at a light.

“You ran that red light!” She shouts as she places her helmet on the handlebar.

“Yeah? So?” He shrugs as he grabs her bags off the bike.

“You cheated, Chico!” She retorts, playfully shoving him up the steps into the house. “I’ll get it.” She assures, taking her bags up the stairs to her room. She remembered as if it were yesterday, Angel standing at the top of the stairs while EZ carried her bags and she followed him up the stairs to her room, right next to EZ’s. With a smile, she starts up the stairs and swings open her door. Everything was put away neatly in it’s spots, except for the black and red blanket heaped on the end of the bed and the grey pillow there. It was so odd that he’d sleep in her room. She didn’t understand why, he hated her so much that he didn’t want to know she existed, yet when she left; he chased her to the bus station, and when she was gone, he slept in her room.

“Weird, huh?” EZ asks from behind her.

“Yeah, a little.” She nods, grabbing the blanket and pillow and heading down the hall. Swinging open his door, she tosses the items onto his bed and shut the door. Heading back into her room, she unpacks her first duffel of jeans and shorts but when she starts to unpack the second one, she curses loudly. “Are you fucking kidding?” The duffel was full of old clothes she meant to throw out. Not her shirts.

“What’s the matter?” EZ asks from the doorway.

“I threw out the wrong duffel, Chico.” She nips, tossing the bag to the ground.

“You wanna piss off Angel?” He asks, and she greets him with a dangerous smirk. They were evil when put together. She packed all her old clothes into his dresser and took out all his older tee shirts and button ups. They laugh and cackle as they hoard his clothes to her room.

“They might need a little love, but they’ll work.” She laughs, grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting off the bottom half of the shirt and the neckline, making a cropped tee.

“That’s impressive, Esme!” He nods as they head down to the kitchen to start dinner. She knows he’ll recognize the shirt. A part of her hopes he gets real mad. Pop comes into the kitchen and a joins them. They’re dancing around the kitchen with dinner completely done when a knock echoes at the front door.

“I got it!” She shouts, all but sprinting to the front door and swinging it open before skipping back to the kitchen. Her pounds against her chest in anticipation. It has been so long since she’d seen him. Angel watches the petite woman skip through the doorway and his eyes follow her, a small smile on his lips. She reminds him so much of her, her happiness like an infection.

“Yo EZ! This your girlfriend?” He laughs as he steps into the kitchen. “What the fuck? Everybody fiestas without me now?” He asks, raising his hands.

“Christ Angel, everything is always about you.” She mutters, rolling her eyes as she cute up the mango for the fruit salad.

“Chica you got some balls to talk to me like that. EZ you better control your-“

“His what?” She turns and faces him, lips pursed.

“Esmeralda.” His breath whooshes from his lungs and he stands there staring at her.

“You okay, bro?” EZ asks, raising his eyebrows. “Te conviertes en un estatuto?” He peeks around his shoulder. In the next moment, he sucks in a breath and steps forward, crushing her against him.

“Chiquita, if you ever pull some shit like that again, I’ll kill you myself.” He growls low in her ear as he hugs her so tightly she can’t breathe.

“Oh ya tough guy? Is that why you slept in my bedroom while I was gone? Cause you were so mad?” She asks, eyeing him.

“Did he tell you that?” He jabs a finger at EZ and gives a low warning.

“No, it wasn’t exactly rocket science. Your stuff was in my old bedroom when I went up there.” She shrugs, heading back to the fruit salad. She fills the table with dinner as they all sit down.

“How was north Cali?” Angel grunts, his eyes on his plate, fork pushing around his chicken.

“It was good. I had a good job, a good house,”

“Had?” EZ jumps in, head tips a little to the side.

“Yeah, I quit to come home. It just didn’t feel right being away.” She shrugs, taking a bite.

“You like it up there?” He asks, looking up at her for a moment.

“Clearly not if I came back.” She chuckles. EZ pats her arm and chuckles along with her.

“Hey-I didn’t ask for sarcasm. I’m just trying to-“

“Make conversation? Angel, jesus, this isn’t that difficult. You’re so on edge over there you haven’t even eaten yet. You think one wrong word and you’ll just leave. You didn’t even take your boots off.” She stuffs another bite into her mouth.

“Disculpame por no confiar en ti de inmediato.” He hisses.

“Estas enojada que me fui!” She shouts back, tossing a piece of mango at him.

“You know what, Chiquita? You’re right.” He bites through clenched jaw.

“Angel, don’t leave. Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She assures, standing in front of him, her hands on his upper arms. Tears almost fill his eyes as she stands in front of him. Sighing he sits back down and eats.

“Anyway, EZ, we have a run tonight and no, your girlfriend can’t go.” He laughs, looking at her for a second. As they finish dinner, she stands and clears the table, finding the radio. Switching to the pop station, ‘Papi’ by J.Lo comes on as she starts on the dishes.

“Chiquita, change this.” Angel hushes as he stands behind her, his arms wrapped around her upper arms. Switching the radio, ‘I Could Fall in Love’ by Selena. Turning in his grip, she hugs his waist and he sways with her hugged against him. That old crush she thought she’d buried so well was resurfacing with every sweet lyric to Selena that he swayed to. His phone buzzes in his pocket.

“Yeah?” He answers, still hugging her under one arm.

“Clubhouse, ten minutes. Bring the prospect.” Bishop informs.

“You got it, boss.” He clicks to hang up and stuffs the phone in his pocket, gripping her tightly in another hug before he heads to the door. When his hand hits the door knob, he looks over his shoulder. “Hey, Chiquita. Good to see you.” He calls as he steps out into the cool night air, taking a few calming breaths. Swiping his nose with his knuckle, he heads for his bike.

“Hey pretty boy. You okay?” EZ calls as he gets on his bike.

“I’m fine. Shut up.” He barks, kicking his bike to life and leaving. All the way there he thought about her. She wasn’t just a young girl anymore, scared of everything. She looked independent and strong, she looked beautiful.

By the time Angel and EZ got back, the house was silent and they crept to their rooms. But Angel couldn’t help himself as he passed her room, like every time he passed before, he swung the door a little to peek in. But unlike every other time, she was there. Sleeping soundly, softly snoring as she danced in dreamland, for a away from here. Angel leans against the door jam, watching her with a little smile on his face for a little while. He was mesmerized by her presence. To see her there, safe where she should be did wonders for his heart. Pushing off the door jam, he heads to his room and pulls open his top drawer for a tee shirt. Tiredly he goes to pull on a shirt, but it stops at his shoulders, entirely too small. Yanking it off, he flips on his light to see Justin Bieber on the front.

“Chiquita! Ezekiel!” She runs to EZ’s room, grabbing him and running downstairs. Angel’s thundering footsteps follow closely after them.

“Angel?” She asks, stepping out of the shadow of the fridge in his black tee shirt.

“Chiquita. Give me my shirt.” He barks, holding out a hand. She grins at him.

“You don’t want me to do that.” She laughs, looking to EZ.

“I’m sure I don’t. Hand it over.” He nips. She looks at EZ who shakes his head and she grins from ear to ear, grabbing the hem of his tee shirt and tugging it over her head. She reveals her bare chest and quickly covers her breasts with her hands, but not before Angel was shell shocked.

“What’s the matter, Angelito? You never seen these before?” She asks as she heads back up the stairs finds another of Angel’s shirts and slips it on. EZ sat at the table, holding the edge and laughing so hard he was wheezing.

“You-never-seen-these-before!” EZ wheezes.

“Shut up.” Angel barks, pulling his shirt over his head and heading back upstairs to bed. Stopping at her door, she looks through the door at him, winking at him. He steps in and shuts the door. “Chiquita, what the fuck was that?” He growls low.

“What?” She asks, pulling the blanket off and flicking on her fan.

“That little act in the kitchen? You think you’re funny?” He demands.

“I thought so!” She giggles, grabbing her phone.

“The last time a girl did that to me—“

“What happened? It shriveled up? You cried? What?” She chuckles. He gets in her face, his inches from hers.

“I fucked her so hard the neighbors called the cops. Keep up your little act, puta. See what happens.” He challenges, jabbing a finger into her chest before heads back to his room.

She wakes up around seven, pulling on a pair of shorts, one of Angel’s light blue button downs, rolling the cuffs and tying it above her belly button. As she jogs down the stairs, she finds Pop sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“Where are you headed so early?” He asks, greeting her with a kiss and hug.

“I’m going to find some fruits. Do you need anything?” She asks as she slips on her shoes. She hears thumping down the stairs and looks up to find Angel standing at the bottom of the stairs, rubbing his eyes, shirtless.

“Where you going, Chiquita?” He asks, his voice deep and rough.

“For fruit, Angel. Did you need to get back to babysitting me?” She and Pop giggle at her dig.

“No,just be careful. Is that my shirt?” He asks, pointing to her.

“Yeah, did you want it?” Pop looks between the two as Angel shuts up and his cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.

“Nope. Have a good one.” He shutters, heading for the coffee.

Angel got ready for the day, putting on his Romero Brothers work shirt and heading out the door. When he arrives at the yard, everyone’s still at home but him. Was he really there that early? Just as he reaches for the spare key, he hears another bike pull in.

“Angel, today is your day off, you know that right?” Bishop asks as he walks to the door. Shrugging, Angel follows Bishop into the clubhouse.

“It’s all good. You mind if I work today?” He asks.

“Nah, go ahead. Something wrong, kid?”

“Nope, just figured I’m already here, might as well work.” He shrugs. Around noon, EZ and Esmeralda come squealing into the parking lot lunch in hand.

“Again you cheated! Tramposo(cheater)!” She shouts as she walks towards Angel leaned against the building, cigarette to his lips. As she got closer, she could see the sweat across his forehead, the droplets that dripped down his neck. Licking her lips, she presses her lips together and clears her throat.

“Chiquita. You okay?” He asks, his eyes flicking to her.

“Yeah, don’t worry Romeo. I’m fine. You hungry?” She asks, handing him a bag and pulling out her own.

“Yeah, actually. Thanks.” He grabs the bag and waves her over to a picnic table where they sit and eat lunch. As they’re eating, a few bikes roll in. She recognizes Coco, his nose still crooked. But the others she wasn’t so sure about.

“Holy fuckin’ shit dude! Esmeralda?” Coco shouts from across the dirt yard. He jogs over and they grip each other in a warm hug. “Glad you’re back. Angel’s been a real martyr since you left. How was North Cali anyway? You find a vato?” He digs his elbow playfully into her side.

“No, clearly not. That’s why I’m back here.” They laugh together before Coco heads inside, once again leaving her and Angel together. “Yo, so Pop wanted to know if there was anyway I could stay with you.” She spits out quickly, stuffing a bite of sandwich into her mouth.

“Pop wants to know? Que?” He asks, taking another big bite.

“Said he’s got some family coming in and staying there. Needs our rooms.” She shrugs, still eating her sandwich.

“I mean, I guess. You got rules though. No dudes. No loud music, unless its good. You wear your goddamn clothes. You don’t open the door for nobody. Except me. You better open the door for me, Chiquita.” He points a stern finger at her. She grabs her lunch bag and heads for her bike. “Chiquita!” He shouts, jogging over to her. “Last rule, my room is off limits. That means you don’t go in there. Okay?” He asks.

“Fine. I wouldn’t want to anyway. Except maybe to borrow that purple, sparkly colsoladoro(dildo) you hide in the top drawer.” She laughs.

“Chiquita, you comin’ tonight?” He asks, rolling his eyes.

“Ya, if that’s okay with you?” She asks. He nods, turning and walking away.

“See you tonight, Chiquita.” He calls before walking into the building. She gets back to Pop’s and packs her stuff, including Angel’s shirts.

“Hey Pop! I’m going to Angel’s tonight.” She calls as she heads for the door.

“Hey Esmeralda? Thank you again, try not to kill him. Ya?” Just as he finished speaking a motorcycle roars into the drive followed by two cars. Two older Hispanic men start up the steps where Felipe greets them. Angel stands back, watching the interaction.

“Chiquita, this is mi hermanos. Luis and Guillermo.” He waves to each of them. “Hermanos, this is my adopted daughter Esmeralda. She is EZ’s friend and Angel’s little Chiquita.” He chuckles, waving to his son.

“Thanks pop. Maybe you could tell ‘em I put on a Justin Bieber shirt at three am when I got home too.” He calls, rolling his eyes. “Chiquita, you ready?” She watches with a smile as Pop chuckles for a moment, his eyes meeting hers in blame. She nods and heads to her bike.

“I guess. Have a good night pops!” She shouts over her engine. They ride together in silence, both grinning. As they stop at Angel’s, he bails off his bike and heads in the house, leaving her with her own bags. Dragging them up the stairs and into the house, she huffs as she gets through the threshold.

“Hey, you hungry?” He calls from the kitchen.

“Yeah!” She calls back as she drags her bags down the hall towards the other empty room.

“Good! Why don’t you cook something?” He calls, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Thanks for the hospitality.” She huffs as she steps up to the fridge, swinging open the door and hitting him.

“Ow! Damn you’re not a very nice house guest.” He barks, sauntering away. She watches over her shoulder, his strides were long and his hips swung so perfectly. For the second time that day, she finds herself licking her lips.

“Angel! What am supposed to cook? Beer or the limited amounts of restaurant ketchup?” She shouts, shutting the door and stepping into the living room. As she stood there, she realized how hot is was getting. “Christ, don’t you have air conditioning?” She calls. No response. “Angel-“ she stops when she hears a noise coming from his room.

“Shit. Querida.” He whispers breathily. She doesn’t wander very much further, figuring there is probably some girl in there. A few moments later, he comes out still shirtless, as if nothing happened.

“You call that sparkly thing querida?” She asks jokingly.

“Don’t you fuckin’ worry, Chiquita. I said don’t fuckin’ come in there. Ya?” He barks.

“Jesus, I didn’t. I was just wondering what the hell I was supposed to make with beer and ketchup packets?” She asks.

“Christ, there’s some carniceria, no?” He nips.

“There’s Dos Equis, and Heinz. That’s it.”

“Well fine, let’s just take my bike.” He grabs his keys and yanks on a tee shirt. “Is that my shirt?” He asks, looking at the band tee she cut up.

“Si.” She laughs, grabbing her helmet and climbing on the back of his bike.

“Hold on Chiquita.” He laughs as she squeezes her knees tight against the body of the bike so she didn’t have to hold on to him. He pulls them into Cerniceria Reyes, goes in through the back door and gets a hunk of ground beef. They head to the store next, she buys onions, peppers, rice, and a few seasonings. As they walk around the store, women glare at her while Angel winks at them. He even exchanges numbers with the clerk before they head back.

“You are unbelievable! You know that? I guess I could understand how you haven’t locked down a girl yet. You’re homemaking skills are impeccable.” She laughs as she tries to find a baking dish in his bare cupboard. Finding on small metal baking dish in the back, she puts what will fit in it after washing it and makes casserole.

“I don’t want to be tied down, Chiquita. Or I already would be.” He chuckles.

“No you wouldn’t.” She laughs finding a seat on the couch. He sits across from her, drinking his beer.

“Why did you leave that day?” He asks, eyes on the table.

“Why are you asking?”

“‘Cause I need to know. Was it me?” He digs, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Partly. But, Angel, it wasn’t all you. I wanted to experience life, ya know? Without beating up whatever life threw at me. I wanted to beat it up.”

“Did you?” He asks, raising his eyes to hers.

“No, but it beat the fuck outta me. I’m glad for it though, ya feel? I didn’t have big bad Mayan blood protecting me. It was just me against the world.” She smiles, nodding to him.

“No one seriously hurt you though, right?” He asks, taking another swig.

“Other than my pride, no. I got caught having sex with a married man. That was as hurt as I got. He was telling me he was divorced, ya know?” She laughs hysterically. Angel smiles and chuckles, but doesn’t laugh.

“You had sex?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, so what?”

“Nothin, did you like it?” He asks, frowning a little.

“Angel, what’s this about?” She picks, furrowing her brows and glaring at him. He just grunts as the timer goes off in the kitchen. Standing, she follows him into the kitchen. “Angel, what’s this about? Why were you sleeping in my room?” She asks as she pulls the casserole out.

“Why you want to know, huh? You want me to tell you that I love you? That I was some lost little boy without you?” He shouts in her face, catching her off guard. “Cause I don’t love you! And I’ve never been lost because of you!” He barks, slamming his fist into the counter before huffing and disappearing. He came back half an hour later, half-drunk.

“Jesus, you hungry?” She chuckles as he stumbles through the house.

“Yeah, a little.” He chuckles, trying to hold himself up.

“Here, sit down. I’ll get you a plate.” She smiles, heading into the kitchen and finding him a plate for dinner. By the time she got back out there he’d successfully taken off his shirt and pants claiming it to be too hot. “Angel please leave your boxers on. I don’t want to fight a loaded weapon to put you to bed.” She laughs, pulling his hands from the waistband.

“Chiquita, you think I’m hot?” He ruffs, holding her hand against his warm chest.

“Yeah, I guess you should get some air conditioning.” She laughs.

“No Chiquita, I mean seriously. You think I’m hot?” He asks again.

“Angel, you’re drunk. Quit pushing this, you won’t like the answer.” she laughs, patting his chest. She gets to bed, shutting her door and going to sleep.

In the morning, she pads into the kitchen to find a huge, Goliath of a man in Angel’s kitchen. Looking to her left, she sees a woman sitting in the chair until she gets in front of it. It’s just a head. Gasping, she looks to the man in the kitchen.

“Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Angel’s. He asked for that as a housewarming gift. Who, uh, who are you?” He asks as she slips into the kitchen and pulls out his old blender and the stuff for her smoothie. “You want one? It’s just a mango smoothie with peaches and yogurt.” She offers as she buzzes up the frozen fruit with some almond milk.

“Sure, you live here?” He asks as they drink their smoothies together at the counter.

“No, just visiting. You want me to wake up Angel?” She asks, pointing down the hall. He chuckles and shakes his head. He could hear her drunken roommate rustling.

“Nah, he’s coming now.” He ruffs, leading her to the couch. “Have a seat.” She sits as she drinks her smoothie, watching the huge man stand in the kitchen digging through the fridge.

“Alice? You climb through the fuckin’ window?” He asks, when he hears a man talking to Esme. His heart jams against his chest as his thoughts race. As he steps up to the chair, his eyes meet hers for a second as she continues chatting with the stranger in the kitchen. Angel was a sight, bare chested, jeans yanked on haphazardly, the band of his underwear riding just above the waistband of his jeans. A pistol in hand and a confused look on his face. As he sees the head in the chair, stuck onto a gun, he barks, “what the fuck?” “Get off the fuckin’ couch Chiquita! You don’t even know him!” He demands, reaching for her, his eyes never leaving the huge guy in the kitchen drinking out of the carton of milk.

“Jeez Angel! He said he was your friend!” She barks, standing and heading towards him.

“And you think that is what?” He deadpans, waving an excited hand at the head. “Just a fuckin’ gift? Want me to put it on the fuckin’ wall?”

“I don’t know. He seemed nice enough.”

“Jesus christ.” He groans, pushing her back towards his bedroom and shutting her in there. “Don’t touch anything.” He barks as he shuts the door. She snoops, of course, and she finds her picture in his bedside table drawer. Tugging open his top dresser drawer, she pulls a sweatshirt out of the drawer and pulls the soft fabric against her cheeks, breathing in deeply. Sitting on the edge of his bed, time drags her away to a distant land.

**

Angel stalked into the room, mad about something. He found her curled up on his bed, holding steadfast to his black hoodie. He gently sat next to her and grabbed her hand.

“Chiquita?” He asked, his hand patted her knee.

“Hey. Sorry for barging in. I just had a terrible day.” She murmured. He hooked an arm around her shoulder and he leaned them back, his hand rubbed little circles into her shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked, eyes closed.

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to barge in. I can go.” She whispered and went to sit up, but his arm stopped her.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“Not really.” She replied in shame.

“Then don’t.” He shrugged, held her once more until they fell asleep.

**

“Chiquita?” He asks, peeking into his room. He smiles a little at the sight of her, curled up on the end of his bed with his sweatshirt tucked under her head. He shakes his head and leaves the room, letting her sleep there.

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Two weeks ago a man in France was arrested for raping his daughter. She’d gone to her school counselor and then the police, but they needed “hard evidence.” So, she videotaped her next assault. Her father was eventually arrested. His attorney explained, “There was a period when he was unemployed and in the middle of a divorce. He insists that these acts did not stretch back further than three or four months. His daughter says longer. But everyone should be very careful in what they say.” Because, really, even despite her seeking help, her testimony, her bravery in setting up a webcam to film her father raping her, you really can’t believe what the girl says, can you? Everyone “knows” this. Even children. Three years ago, in fly-on-the-wall fashion of parent drivers everywhere, I listened while a 14-year-old girl in the back seat of my car described how angry she was that her parents had stopped allowing her to walk home alone just because a girl in her neighborhood “claimed she was raped.” When I asked her if there was any reason to think the girl’s story was not true, she said, “Girls lie about rape all the time.”   She didn’t know the person, she just assumed she was lying. Fast-forward three years, again in a car. This time a 13-year-old refused to believe that when the newly appointed pope was 12 he’d written a “love letter” to the girl living next door. The child insisted stubbornly that the woman, now in the news, had to be a liar because the pope, even as a boy, would not have written a love letter.   In both cases, to my children’s bottomless pool of chagrin, I pulled the car over so I could ask the girls why they were so sure that the women’s accounts were not credible. We talked about their assumptions, about who gets to be believed, double standards regarding sex, and how culture portrays women. Fun times with Mom. No one says, “You can’t trust women,” but distrust them we do. College students surveyed revealed that they think up to 50% of their female peers lie when they accuse someone of rape, despite wide-scale evidence and multi-country studies that show the incidence of false rape reports to be in the 2%-8% range, pretty much the same as false claims for other crimes. As late as 2003, people jokingly (wink, wink) referred to Philadelphia’s sex crimes unit as “the lying bitch unit.” If an 11-year-old girl told an adult that her father took out a Craigslist ad to find someone to beat and rape her while he watched, as recently actually occurred, what do you think the response would be? Would she need to provide a videotape after the fact? It goes way beyond sexual assault as well. That’s just the most likely and obvious demonstration of “women are born to lie” myths. Women’s credibility is questioned in the workplace, in courts, by law enforcement, in doctors’ offices, and in our political system. People don’t trust women to be bosses, or pilots, or employees. Pakistan’s controversial Hudood Ordinance still requires a female rape victim to procure four male witnesses to her rape or risk prosecution for adultery. In August, a survey of managers in the United States revealed that they overwhelmingly distrust women who request flextime. It’s notable, of course, that women are trusted to be mothers—the largest pool of undervalued, economically crucial labor. ***** So how exactly are we teaching children that women lie and can’t be trusted to be as competent or truthful as men? I mean, clearly, most people aren’t saying “girls and women lie, kids, that’s just the way God built them.” First, lessons about women’s untrustworthiness are in our words, pictures, art, and memory. It’s simple enough to see how we are overwhelmingly portrayed as flawed, supplemental, ornamental, or unattainably perfect. It’s also easy to find examples of girls and women routinely, entertainingly cast as liars and schemers. For example, on TV we have Pretty Little Liars, Gossip Girl, Don’t Trust The Bitch in Apartment 23, Devious Maids, and, because its serpent imagery is so basic to feminized evil, American Horror Story: Coven. The lessons start early, too. Take, for example, the popular animated kids movie Shark Tale, which featured the song “Gold Digger,” a catchy tune that describes women as scheming, thieving, greedy, and materialistic. There is no shortage of music lyrics that convey the same ideas across genres. It’s in movies, too. Consider, for example, the prevalence of untrustworthy mad women, or the manipulative women of Film Noire, and the failure of most films to even allow two women to be named or speak to one another about anything other than the male protagonists. But pop culture and art are just the cherry on the top of the icing on a huge cake. The United States is among the most religious of all countries in the industrialized world. So, while some people wring their hands over hip hop, I’m more worried about how men like Rick Santorum and Ken Cuccinelli explain to their daughters why they can’t be priests. I know that there is hip hop that exceeds the bounds of taste and is sodden with misogyny. But, people seem to think that those manifestations of hatred are outside of the mainstream when, in reality, it’s just more of the same set to great beats. Sometimes, however, there’s a bonus, synchronous two-for-one! Delilah, a renowned biblical avatar of female untrustworthiness, made it into the lyrics of JT Money’s “Somethin’ ‘Bout Pimpin’”: I got a problem with this punk ass bitch I know Ol’no good skanlezz switch out ho An untrustworthy bitch like Deliliah Only thing she good for is puttin’ dick inside her In other words: “Amongst all the savage beasts none is found so harmful as woman.” — John Chrysostom “What she cannot get, she seeks to obtain through lying and diabolical deceptions. One must be on one’s guard with every woman, as if she were a poisonous snake and the horned devil.” — St. Albertus Magnus “Women were made either to be wives or prostitutes.” — Martin Luther “I fail to see what use woman can be to man, if one excludes the function of bearing children.” — Augustine While most religious leaders aren’t going around spouting overtly denigrating opinions about women, many, through default and tradition, casually and uncritically expose children to religious texts that are fundamentally misogynistic. I have to believe that most Sunday school lessons are not concerned with deconstructing, say, the creation story, a seminal text in our culture whether you are religious or not. Religious misogyny is tied to institutional power that ends up in children and women being impoverished and dying. Ideas about women, credibility, legitimacy, authority and—notably—Catholic and Evangelical “priesthood” are important and have deep roots in religious thought and philosophy. And those ideas have contemporary expression (see links): Tertullian: “Women are the devil’s gateway.” Thomas Aquinas: “As regards the individual nature, woman is defective and misbegotten.” St. Clement of Alexandria: “Every woman should be filled with shame by the thought that she is a woman…the consciousness of their own nature must evoke feelings of shame.” St. John Chrysostom: Women are “weak and flighty…For what is a woman but an enemy of friendship, an inescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a domestic danger, delectable mischief, a fault in nature, painted with beautiful colors?” St. Jerome: “Woman is the root of all evil.” There’s Origen, one of Christianity’s greatest thinkers, a man who castrated himself and who considered women worse than animals. And, not to be left out, St. Augustine. Why focus on these musty, long dead theologians and philosophers? These thoughts are alive and well and have a super long tail outside of religion—think: domestic work, pay discrimination, and sex segregation in the workplace. Every time a young girl can’t serve at an altar, or play in a game, or dress as she pleases; every time she’s assaulted and told to prove it, it’s because she cannot, in the end, be trusted. Controlling her—her clothes, her will, her physical freedom, her reputation—is a perk. Conventional Abrahamic religious thought cannot escape the idea that we have to pay, as women, with lifelong suffering and labor and be subject to the authority of men lest our irrationality and desires result in more evil and suffering. Until religious hierarchies renounce beliefs and practices based on these theologies, these long-dead men, creatures of their time, might as well be the ones repeatedly showing up in Congress to give their massively ill-informed opinions on women’s health and lives. Especially in our political lives. Is it really surprising to anyone that a Santorum staffer said, in the run up to the last election, that women shouldn’t be President because it’s against God’s will? What about the “news commentator” who thinks women shouldn’t be allowed to vote? The Senate candidate who thinks rape is a gift from God? Or the Senator and presidential aspirant who thinks it’s just another form of conception? Or the doctor who thinks women deserve to die for having abortions? How about the nominee for lieutenant governor of Virginia who thinks fetal birth defects are punishment for parents’ (read: mothers’) sins? If women die bearing children, so what, that’s what we’re here for.   Even if we insist on not talking about the degree to which legislators’ religious beliefs inform their political actions, it is obvious that they do. An entire political party’s “social policy” agenda is being pursued under a rubric that insists women need “permission slips” and “waiting periods.” The recent shutdown? Conservatives holding the country hostage because they want to add anti-abortion “conscience clause” language to legislation. Whose consciences are we talking about? All the morally incompetent and untrustworthy men who need abortions? It’s no exaggeration to say that distrust of women is the driving force of the “social issues” agenda of the Republican Party. From food stamps and “legitimate rape,” to violence against women and immigration policy. “We need to target the mother. Call it sexist, but that’s the way nature made it,” explained the man who penned Arizona’s immigration law. “Men don’t drop anchor babies, illegal alien mothers do.” I could do this ad infinitum. The pervasive message that women are untrustworthy liars is atomized in our culture. There is no one source or manifestation. It fills every nook and cranny of our lives. I find it sad and disturbing that children learn so quickly and normatively to distrust women. Any commitment to parity means challenging the stories we tell them. It means critically assessing the comforting institutions we support out of nostalgia, habit, and tradition. It means walking out of places of worship, not buying certain movie tickets, closing some books, refusing to pay for some music, and politely disagreeing with friends and family at the dinner table. It’s not easy. But, really, what’s the alternative?

Soraya Chemly, How We Teach our Kids Women are Liars (2013)

Dragon Ball Rap Cypher - Gameboy Jones

Dragon Ball Rap Cypher - Gameboy Jones

Dragon Ball Rap Cypher - Lyrics | Gameboy Jones

**Lyrics**

Gameboy Jones:-

Who's the man, That got the power of the gods Who will take on all opponents like it was his normal job Got these people up in arms to weaponize a spirit bomb Laughing in these villains faces with a Kamehameha I'm the face of a franchise if you take a look I got a game made by Bandai, cause I keep demand high Flying on my Nimbus this a dope view You all know the name call me Kakarot or Goku

<![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> Dreaded Yasuke:-

Rise up only with a strong I claim affiliates If you see me in my Sayian Armor now I'm serious Some benefit being superior to idiots If I'm dead and gone then feel the fury from my lineage Red run down on my head, Drumming inside my heart, tread Water when I'm parched, when a demon Controlling who gets fed Bottom from start but never kneeling to be pledge Allegiance only perfect the art of fighting on the edge

Connor Quest:-

Krillin here to kill um, my skills is hitting the ceiling I'm kicking in any villain Destructo disc, get it spinning From training with Master Roshi, I'm tackling any foe see And known to be one thats shining Bright like sun rays off my dome piece This monk is hard, couldn't beat me with a jumping start These burns are sick like my six moxibustion marks Unnatural ability and fighting as a Z now Messing with 18 get opened with the ki, POW <![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> VGRB:-

Flowin' like a sacred water Roshi be the looker That is heating up the battle like a brought a rice cooker That had sealed up Piccolo you better be brave If you meddle with the maker of Kamehameha waves It now it's time to make your name here at the turtle school Have a seat I'm the trainer of the toughest thugs the world has seen In the game for centuries you know I'll never stop My Ki begins to rise, the panties start to drop

Shwabadi:-

People always lump me in among the worst But I'm in the top 5 ever born on earth At the Tenkaichi, I ain't ever come first I bounce back easy, I ain't ever felt hurt Hair? Iconic. Speed? Supersonic Yes, I'm on it, scour top 10's, I made the list Mission? Ending wrongdoers with a stylish maneuver There's no mover cooler than the wolf fang fist

<![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> KickFlamez:-

I'm like the Pillsbury doughboy Jedi mind tricks toss ya body In the snow boy squad of shooters Ki-Blast will leave you destroyed They underestimate the shiny head and then they get Floyd Be careful you are fucking the al-quide Bomb, a living terror threat I'm the rocket city Saddam the kamikaze Jet hellfire send you to heaven Small package do big damage like 9/11 I'm the mother fucking weapon

Baker the Legend:-

Tien, The king of Tri-Beam, think about it You can't name a stronger earthling With my third eye, I can see ya whole destiny Meant to be a killer, till I met Goku and Roshi Green Gi, On my body and its good for combat Solar Flare, Dodon Ray, Nah you don't want that See me and Chiaotzi, Better turn corners Tien, I'm putting the world back in order Kidd Rap Piccolo, I do this for the souls lost on Planet Namek Tell Kakarot to come correct because I'm doing damage I got that special beam cannon when I handle Saiyans This is nothing new Born from an evil dude so if I'm in a mood I might just blow up the moon Get the dragon balls tell 'em that I'm coming soon I had to fuse with nail just to get a boost as well When I shoot this hell better know I shoot to kill <![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> Nytexing:-

Biggest Samurai with a sword yea I'm well-equipped plug with the senzu bean I know where the bag is, see me on the battlefield I'll knock you with a fat kick, one slash to ya Spinal Cord will make ya backflip I'm the strongest human with a katana I cut very well I roll with a bunch of warriors I see as fairy tales Clutch when Vegeta first attacked Goku Would've failed if didn't fly through the sky cutting off his tail

Nemraps:-

Gohan, The most Hated when I rip through teams I'm juiced up! Injecting myself with concentrated senzu beans Go hard or go home, I was trained by Piccolo Ya girl saw the bone now. she getting pickled on the low Seeing me run in the battlefield, pounding my fist And I'm ready to kill Putting my entire arm in ya body. I'm wondering how does it feel? Punch you all the way to hell you know what I did to cell I'm about to go ape-shit and I don't even need a tail None like Joshua:-

This ain't a cypher it's a tournament of fighters And I'll be number one soon as Kakarot retires If you were claiming I'm second best you in the line of my fire Prince of the Saiyans is coming to slay it Vegeta, you know me, my armor is staying on Limits are breaking my intimidation is greater than any in the squad Kakarot anything that you can be, well I can be it too Super Saiyan 1, 2, God, or Blue Don't you get to thinking that I ever want to fuse Got the final flash and I'll be saving it for Buu At least I know that my son will be cool Out of everybody that was once an enemy And then lost to Goku I'm the best one that used to be evil

<![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> Cilvanis:-

Imma blast to the past then it's back to the future And I hate androids like an iPhone User ha Apocalyptic when I hop on the track Cus' every time I spit bars it's a burning attack If you ever talk shit to me or my father Vegeta I'ma slice ya body up and leave the pats in a Frieza Then I break em down until I see that ya cells warp Take you to my hometown and package you at capsule corps

Rustage:-

Act like a rebel soar high like a treble Note, Battle me? I'm a machine ay Hot as a kettle, and harder than metal an android call me 17 ay Rocket like firing beams imma get mean Charging my Ki like it's my gasoline call it obscene Blow like tetrafluoroethylene Changing my tone like it's major guess it's apart of my nature But if you want to mess with me you're messing with a ranger Shocking I put you in danger I'm just not constructed for failure Cus I'm a hardened warrior inside a steel container

<![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> Savvy Hyuga:-

Underestimating cuz you think I grew softer But soon you will find out I'm still that deadly monster Ready to Scrap for my Hubby or daughter No hesitation I was made to slaughter Even the future knew my threat was initial Cowering in fear though I'm artificial Aim to take em out, yeah that's simple L on your belt to make it official Now if you wanna fall back with the speed of my Ki No backing down I wanna make you bleed for my creed Ain't no stoppin dop to your knees and plead Mercy ain't what you'll see from 18 Enough with the chatter let's resume our session Coming in with the speed for the hits thats venom Few quick combos to teach you a lesson Bout to get schooled by a blond in denim Data Dave:-

This isn't a facade I'm beating all the odds You know that I'm am a boss with more power than the gods Cell was formed and then Cell was warned He'd be clapped Even harder than the cheeks before Videl was born You are messing with the Champ now All I know is fire like I'm working on a campground And when I'm around every single villain seems to curdle Didn't you know I'm the strongest in the world bro MAT4YO:-

Hey! Look down here, Pops, If you wonder whos on top It's the youngest son to have his dragon balls drop 10 out of Goten stunting on punks With a power level that'll have you wetting your trunks I'm a Fusion, A Hybrid, I'm so fuel-efficient Been martial artistic since I was an infant I'll strike you up to heaven if you question me again It's in the name, Baby, I'm to GOAT, end Mark Cooper:-

I'm doing good, I pulled a number two Out with the skinny buu saw the world how I never knew Evil Residue transform into revenue John Wick a man for Hercule and the puppy too I've been excellent way before the hatching Way before the distractions The attempts of body snatching So just imagine, my stomach when It needs to be filled My Appetite is too sweet its diabetic skilled

<![CDATA[ (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); ]]> Diggz Da Prophecy:-

I like my peace don't forget it I'm legit tho Living so aloof but in a sec I'll get lit bro You gotta problem? That's your biz I'ma dip so I can get some cake and chill with Bulma on the ship go Get ya team, I ain't worried in the least N Bulma really like me cuz she heard I like to eat Or better yet since you thinking you the one I'll stop everything you throw with a pinky and thumb

DizzyEIGHT:-

Young Beerus the God of Destruction. I bring fear with my name If you wanna spar then I'll put you all shame Listen I'm a god so I rage Your life is something even Shenron couldn't save You don't wanna Clash Cause if I punch and it land I turn your whole planet into ash Me and you are not the same, I'm a different breed Check yourself before you ever try to step to me DaddyPhatSnaps:-

Legendary Power level Unlimited Sent away by the cowards I was living with They would cower when they figured I was Imminent So they sent me to another planet primitive Now I'm coming for the people who abandoned me And when I find them I won't be the only one with tragedies Level Up! Bury any bit of my Humanity And take my place Broly greatest Saiyan in the Galaxy

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