#ill tell her im tired and work was hard and shell go “well im tired And sore”
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lycanthrowup · 9 months ago
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I need my mom to get a job
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honeydots · 5 years ago
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127 with shuake would be good.
"My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you're ready to sleep."
once again. didnt forget abt these. im working thru em. 
Summary: Goro wakes up one day in a hospital bed with only a bullet wound to keep him company, and not a single memory of who he used to be. 
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(ao3 link)
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He was almost certain the last few weeks had been a dream. 
Or maybe, several long and white coated dreams. The kinds with bright lights at an arm's length, and ill-fitting clothes, and men coming in waves carrying their clipboards as flags. With deep voices all at once whispering, echoing, “what is your name?” 
Maybe he was in a hospital. 
His first day of full consciousness was slow and lonely. His second day too, time spent wiggling his toes and counting ceiling spots. Day three he asked for a glass of water and scared a nurse out of her skin, and his week was kickstarted. Which only really meant an actual doctor came in and declared retrograde amnesia the only explanation for his condition.
His “condition” was quite the word to use. Which condition? They could play bingo. Was it his memory loss (obvious, weak narrative), or could it have been the state of comatose he’d been in (intriguing), or even the bullet wound (now here was a mystery, what a plotline) he’d heard remarkably little about? Amnesia, the fickle bastard, was the type to bring one answer to dinner, and disappear by morning. 
But what did he know? 
Well, he knew that this was a pretty shitty hospital.  As far as how he assumed they should be managed, this one was on a low tier. And according to the nurse, as was their police station. Incompetent, and uncaring of his case, which had apparently been made. 
It’d been a week now. He could get up. Limited, with his IV, but he could. The nurse said later that maybe the police would listen to him now, since he was conscious, basically up and kicking. ‘Listen to him now,’ was also an interesting phrase, because he hadn’t been speaking in the first place. 
He wasn’t injured. His vitals were fine, the nurses had told him, and commented he was taking up an unnecessary bed. Not that he could actually make any kind of sound argument, which was frustrating enough on its own, but this didn’t seem like proper procedure. 
He was, once again, very alone in his room. He thought about going to the police station. Incompetent as they may be, there would be no answers here. There was no one here to help him; some healthy boy in a hospital bed. 
He got up. His IV was stuck in poorly, the tape just barely holding on. They’d disconnected him from all sorts of machines. Nothing was roping him down except for saline solution and his own two feet. 
And, he was already standing. 
It wasn’t hard to pull out. 
His hospital gown was tied all the way down, falling just past his knees. He had odd socks on, their texture was weird, and they were several sizes too big. They were thick and patterned, maybe slip proof? But shoeless as he was, they would do.  
The hallway was very empty. He was on the ground floor, but he wasn’t sure there were other stories. Maybe one, or a basement. It didn’t matter much. There just wasn’t anyone around. His concern was in that he didn’t know how long their absence would last. 
There was a glass door at the end of the hallway.
To the police he’d go. A medical bill dodging amnesiac would probably get him some attention. Enough to get a name? 
The door was not locked. That was probably good, for a hospital, and not a security breach, which is where his mind had initially gone. 
Doors are meant to be opened, he thought. There really isn’t anything wrong with that. 
It was just a little bright outside. The sun was up but not too far. He was in the parking lot, and it was almost entirely devoid of cars. Small, small hospital. 
He didn’t exactly have a map, and no nurse was around to give him any condescending directions. He’d might as well go forward, then. He started walking, and thought to himself how odd his feet felt on the concrete. 
No one was out. He hesitated to call it deserted, just maybe a bit early. He kept walking, nerves high, still worried he might get mauled by a stray doctor.
It seemed like this was a very small town, going by his surroundings. Lots of trees, and cracked roads, and old buildings. He didn’t think much of taking it all in. He’d have time for sightseeing when he remembered his initials. 
A bit farther ahead was a woman, leaning on a car parked on the side of the road. She was glaring down at her phone. She looked— maybe irritated? Or tired. He wondered if he could ask her for directions. An aimless stroll through town wouldn’t take him to where he was going, after all. 
“Excuse me,” he called, “Ma’am? Do you know the way to the police station?” He approached her with just enough caution to call it looking out for himself, ignoring the sorry state he was already in. 
She glanced up from her phone. Her hair was short, and dark, and it bobbed around her face. She registered him for a moment, and her eyes went big. 
“Holy shit.” 
He knew enough to know that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I need to go to the police, please.” 
The woman kept staring at him. “You—” she stuttered, “are you Goro Akechi? You are, aren’t you?” 
This encounter was already going awry. Did she know him? “Do you know me?” 
“Uh…I mean, no, we’ve never met.” She pushed herself off her car, and slowly put her phone back into her pocket. 
That wasn’t really what he meant. He needed to persist, here. This could be a lucky hit. “No I— Do you know who I am?” 
Blatant confusion spread across her face. “Uh…  Are you not Goro Akechi?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. 
She stared at him again, almost suspicious. Then she looked him up and down.
“Are you… coming from the hospital?” 
“Yes.” He watched her mouth open just a bit in disbelief. He wondered how this woman knew him. If explaining would get more information out of her, then he’d do it. Privacy only existed when you had something to protect, after all. “I’ve been given an amnesiac diagnosis, you see. I’m going to the police station to see if I can find any sort of lead on myself.” 
She looked shocked. “Amnesia? And you’re going to the cops?” She blinked, and suddenly looked very serious. She grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait. That’s bad news. Don’t go to the police.” 
He (Goro?) hadn’t expected to hear that.“What? And why shouldn’t I?”  
“You… holy shit, kid, do you actually have amnesia?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen you need to— oh good god, this is gonna sound like I’m trying to kidnap you— I definitely know who you are. I can tell you but we shouldn’t… here. If someone finds you… ” She exhaled hard, and looked him dead on. It made Goro freeze. “Fuck, okay. The gist of it is— you’re in more danger than you realize. Like, a lot more. Will you come talk with me in my car?” 
Alright. So, a lot to process, and a lot he didn’t know how to. He didn’t even know if he should process it, or if that was the kind of story that should be immediately disregarded. Someone telling you to not go to the police and please get in their car seemed like a textbook stranger-danger red flag. There had been something uneasy about her tone, though. Like genuine concern— not that such a thing couldn’t be perfected and acted, however. 
But she’d given him a name. And it felt almost tangible, the more he thought about it. Less bendable and more sturdy. It was very easy to attach to himself. And it was a lead, wasn’t it? 
“Hey, did you get discharged, or are you just wandering around? Cause they’re gonna be looking for you if they didn’t let you out,” said the woman, jump starting Goro (almost certainly, Goro) out of his head. “And kid, I cannot just let you turn yourself in to the cops.” 
‘Turn myself in,’ he thought to himself. Such particular wording. It made his stomach drop. This woman knew more than him, clearly. And really, for fucks sake, if he died, he died. Obviously he hadn’t left enough of a mark on anyone to warrant not a single visitor during a five year coma. According to the nurses, it was more evident that he’d simply been dumped in town— like someone had already been trying to get rid of him. 
Well, whoever they were, they’d forgotten to bury his bones. 
He straightened himself up. “Okay.” 
She looked surprised, at first. She swallowed around it. “...Yep, okay then. Hop in before you change your mind.” She popped open her car door, and Goro circled around the side and followed suit. 
Her car was messy. It was filled with food wrappers and empty bottles, but papers and notebooks were scattered around, too. So she kept busy, it seemed. He decided he’d consider this a point in the not-about-to-murder-you direction. Too much here that could be used as evidence against her. Too personalized. He was almost envious. 
She adjusted her seat forwards and turned on the ignition. She was a bit jittery, Goro noticed, as she scratched the back of her head vigorously. 
“So, I’m gonna drive us somewhere that isn’t here but I can talk and drive so, just— like,  just a second, okay?” 
He nodded. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. “...Goddamn,” she muttered, and then pressed down on the gas, turning her car onto the barren road. 
She kept her eyes forward, but kept true to her promise of talking. She sighed. “Right. So, uh, to start… Okay, first, my name’s Ichiko Ohya, I’m a journalist. Get that cleared away. Next comes you which is a bit more complicated, but you probably wanna know why we’re dodging cops so I’ll start there. Or, as close to there as I can.”
He would take anything he could get from her, actually. The cops situation was undeniably concerning, but right now he was essentially a sentient empty shell, absorbing everything for the first time. A kid in a metaphorical candy store, but the store was a dodgy reporter who still might be kidnapping him and just stalling.  He’d call himself the kid, but it dawned on him he didn’t even know how old he was. Fantastic. More things the hospital staff hadn’t bothered to tell him. 
“Your name’s Goro Akechi. I told you that already but, that’s you. At least I’m like, ninety percent sure.” She spared him a glance. “You do look a bit different but all in all I’m— I’m pretty sure. Just the hair and the stubble, you know.” 
Goro hadn’t exactly looked in a mirror recently, so no, he didn’t know. He knew he had long hair— certainly longer than Ohya’s. He rubbed his jaw and felt the rough and gritty bristles that had prickled onto him. It bothered him that he didn’t know. It bothered him that he didn’t know what he looked like. 
Ohya continued, not letting him dwell for long. “You’re also sort of famous. Well, you were, and it was mainly with teenagers and moms in the city, but you were a popular detective. So, that’s how I know you. And I swear I’m getting to the running from cops part, but you have to know this first first. Oh, shit, it’s right here.” She took a sharp turn into a grocery store, and Goro had to grip the side to keep steady in his seat. 
She didn’t act very sheepish about it. “Sorry, for that. We’re gonna talk in here.” 
She paused her explanation to pull into a spot, which Goro felt a little thankful for because, under his circumstances, that felt like a lot of information to take in. He was well known, but not well known enough that anyone out here knew him. ‘Famous detective’ raised some weird alarms in his head, a position absurd enough that it might be true. It felt unfortunately right, like a disappointing truth. It was different from his name, more unwelcome. But it didn’t click either. Nothing had been clicking at all. 
There was a pit growing in his stomach, like something was in there, chewing down on his insides. But he’d found he didn’t care for ignorance, so he would put up with it for as long as it took. 
Ohya turned her car off, pushed her seat away from the wheel, and got herself comfortable. She faced him, nonchalant but sincere. “So this is where the really juicy stuff comes in, alright? So like, listen up now, if you weren’t.” There was something very serious about her eyes. 
As if he’d have let any of her explanation slip under his radar. “I’m listening.”  
That was a good enough answer for her, it seemed. 
“I’m trying to think of the best way to explain this, honestly,” she started, thumbing the back of her hand. “You… okay, there was this guy. He was a really big politician that you were involved with, and it’s kind of a gray area as far as what you were doing for him, but you and him worked together. Kind of. He was a really shitty guy.” 
She looked like she was considering her words. She turned her focus out the windshield for a moment, and sighed again. “He basically ended up confessing because this group— well, actually, they don’t matter right now. He confessed, and he talked about you. For some of it. It was a long fucking confession. But half of what he said wasn’t even coherent. He was talking about some crazy shit and no one knows what he meant by it. You were part of that whole section.” She paused again, thinking. Goro let the silence sit. He didn’t want to jump to a conclusion until he’d heard her out. Which was proving difficult, truthfully, because this all left a sour taste in his mouth, one that had almost certainly been there before. 
“They wanted to take you in for questioning, but you disappeared. And, to add fuel to the fire, they were having a hard time getting any actual concrete evidence,” she began. “Can’t make an arrest based on a confession alone. He did other things, too, and that's what he ended up being indicted for, but there's still that problem. This whole chunk of confession is still there that technically lines up with his timeline of events, but there’s no way to prove it. That’s why they want you,” Ohya’s expression darkened. “At least, publicly, that’s why they want you.” 
She readjusted in her seat again. She faced him fully. “This guy— Shido’s his name— he’s got goons. Not to mention, he had complete control over the police, and there are other higher up’s who worked with him. Some of those guys got busted with Shido’s confession, but there’s a few where there just isn’t enough evidence to put ‘em away. These are the ones who you need to watch out for.” She took a deep breath, not finished. 
“I’m gonna be frank with you,” she continued. “They want you dead. They don’t want a single loose end, and you’re still dangling. The police are on their side. Are you understanding me?”
Goro tried to let the words sink in. That was more than a lot to think about. The creature in his stomach was grinning now, he could tell. But, this was also no time to get overwhelmed. If her words were true— which, the overwrought familiarity of her explanation compelled him to trust them— he needed to keep his head above the water. 
“So these— subordinates. You’re saying they’re after my life? They can’t be actively hunting me down, if they have the influence you’re implying, or I’d have been found by now,”  Goro said, deciding to ignore the fear creeping up his spine. “So then, what’s my public status? How unlikely was it that I was the egoless comatose patient they were searching for?” 
“Uh…” said Ohya, seeming like she was the stunned one. “Well, you’re right, they don’t really have a manhunt right now. I guess I don’t need to worry about beating around the bush here— you’re presumed dead.”
Interesting. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he said, furrowing his brow. “But, obviously, a body was never found. They’re probably prioritizing morgues then, not hospitals. That does explain why I wasn’t discovered after all this time.” Though, if they’re smart, they’d also keep an eye on cases like his. They probably were, in fact. He’d gotten lucky that the police here were clueless. 
Ohya gave him a very funny look. “You know, it’s almost creepy how well you’re taking this. You were in a coma this whole time?” She shook her head. “I’d have thought you’d be more out of it, honestly.” 
“Is this not what you’d consider a wake-up call? I’ve been ‘out of it’ for a week. It’s common sense that I’d react like this,” he told her. Just going outside had cleared his head. He had a feeling hospitals had never been a fitting place for him. “Yes, I was in a coma,” he added, as an afterthought. “They said I’d been shot.” 
Just as the words left his mouth, he realized the implications that had. 
Ohya noticed just as fast. “You said shot?” 
They’d certainly both had the same assumption— maybe an attempt had already been made after his life. 
But there was something that felt wrong about that scenario, too. “I’m not… entirely sure it’s what you think it is,“ he replied. Maybe wrong wasn’t the correct word but, it wasn’t completely right either. “There’s no benefit to not making my body public. And, if they’re really after me, it seems messy, to say the least, that they didn’t finish the job properly.” He tried to speak confidently. The effort was familiar, too. Part of him wondered when he’d get the chance to do some self-analysis and tear himself apart. 
Ohya caught on very quick, rolling with every punch Goro gave. “Christ, kid. What kind of shady shit were you into? So we’re thinking you’ve got another group after you?” 
“I don’t know.” 
He really didn’t. There were missing pieces, but that was evident. He had no end of missing pieces. If he was supposed to be some detective, then maybe he should get on with acting like it, and figure out whatever the hell this was.
Whatever business he’d wrapped himself into. 
Ohya, again, spoke too quickly for Goro to finish digging through his own head.
“Maaan, I’ve really got myself into something haven’t I?” She rubbed her eyes, like she was already exhausted. “Look, I’m a busy woman. Don’t expect much out of me, but apparently I’ve got a bad habit of adopting puppies. So I’ll see if I can at least point you in the right direction, okay?” 
He didn’t have much of another choice, other than to let himself be killed. He nodded again, not sure whether to call himself pleased or solemn. 
She buzzed her lips and looked at him, obviously thinking. Then she opened her car door. “Well, okay. First things first, you gotta get some clothes, ‘cause you can’t go walking around like that. God, you don’t even have shoes…” She got out and stretched, and then turned back to him for one last comment. “Don’t expect much, okay? I’m not made of money. Don’t you dare go anywhere, either.” 
She slammed the door shut and started walking into the store. 
Goro was glad for the moment of peace. He let his jaw relax, closing his eyes. He hated how familiar the stress felt, and how desperate he was to welcome the feeling. A life or death promise was about as thrilling as one day should get. 
Getting any memory back was his top priority. But he didn’t have an inkling of where to start. He didn’t have a phone, or a computer, and certainly not a home. He guessed he could use a public computer at a library, but just searching himself might raise more questions than answers. They’d be important questions, he was sure, but he wondered about the bias, the assumptions, the fact that it’d be an outside perspective looking in. He didn’t know how delicately he should go about regaining his memories. 
Not to mention, he had only the word of a stranger and a low feeling in his stomach confirming he was even Goro Akechi. And now, with the reputation he’d had, if he even wanted to be him was questionable. Memories of such a life seemed… unpleasurable, at best, but he hadn’t set himself up to be able to just start over. Remembering his past was his best chance at plain old survival. 
He wanted to have some kind of plan before Ohya came back, but he was drawing blanks. What he really needed was someone who knew him personally. Beyond media attention, if there was a single poor soul around who’d actually known him. He found himself doubting such an existence, past anyone who was out for his head. 
He heard the car doors unlock, and he opened his eyes. Ohya was walking back with two bags, and she was on her phone again, barely looking where she was going. Well, there goes him having a plan. Bouncing ideas back and forth was the last thing he wanted to do. It was time wasted and he knew he would get frustrated, but his choices were limited. At least Ohya seemed pretty knowledgeable. It was possible she knew more than she was letting on, too. 
She opened up the car door and tossed the bags onto his lap. “Hey,” she began, setting herself back into place, “I got your stuff but— I remembered something in there that might be a good starting place for you, if I can run that by ya.” 
Or, of course, he could hear Ohya out and avoid idea bouncing all together. Something solid had come by much quicker than he thought. 
*****
Ohya’s plan wasn’t bad at all. 
She’d told him she had a contact from a few years ago, who was in charge of a bundle of self storage units. Apparently a certain “Goro Akechi” had registered himself one a couple months or so after Goro’s public disappearance. They’d told her once they noticed the name, but Ohya hadn’t taken up the lead at the time. When Goro asked why they’d even told her that, she left it at “no reason important,” and kept the topic adamantly off the table. Goro would push the envelope if it weren’t for the fact that his life (a life he didn’t even know he had, for the record, and one that still bothered him) was on the line. 
If this unit did belong to him, there could be a very solid lead on himself in there, and leads on his acquaintances, too. Ohya didn’t know if the garage still existed, though. So she said she’d give them a call and see if they could figure something out. 
Which is what led to Goro sitting in a barber’s chair. After he’d gotten dressed (an ensemble of sweats, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes) Ohya had commented that he looked like he belonged in a homeless shelter, and “really needed a haircut.”
She said something about how he’d always kept himself looking clean, and Goro believed it. He was already feeling discomfited the way he was. So unkempt and basically filthy. So, she decided that while she was getting her contact all in order, she’d pay for him getting a trim and a shave. 
She was helping him more than he’d expected her to, in ways he didn’t really expect. But he’d take what he could get. He’d hardly had a reason to say no. 
He sat waiting in front of a mirror. He hadn’t gotten a good look at himself until now, but god, she was right, he looked pretty fucking bad. 
The first thought that came to him was sickly. Eyes sunken in, deep bags under his eyes. You wouldn’t expect him to have just been in a permanent state of slumber for the past five years. Or maybe the correct assumption would be, a coma hadn’t been enough sleep for him. 
His hair was just below his shoulders, and he had a very pitiful looking beard. He didn’t recognize himself. He didn’t think that would change much after his haircut, but it made him itch. It was a face that didn’t feel like his. He wanted to rip it off and replace it with a new one, one he knew better. 
Maybe he’d never liked looking at his reflection. 
Ohya had spoken to the barber for him. The one he got either wasn’t the talkative type, or really got his vibe of not wanting to speak to anyone. She went to work in silence, washing his hair with fruity shampoo and dressing him in a long black apron. That was all fine, albeit uncomfortable, but once she started cutting, Goro found he couldn't watch. The snips were loud, and definite, and it left his chest feeling tight. He couldn’t do anything but let his thoughts run blank. 
He wondered if that was hair he’d had before his incident, now falling away. He’d have the same eyes, and organs, and teeth, too. But he felt all wrong in this body. Like it had gone on without him. 
He was thankful when she moved to his beard. Just for a moment, though, because having someone so close to his face made him want to retreat as far back into himself as possible. A blade so close to his throat. He wondered how hard of a push it would take to make a cut. He wondered how deeply he’d have to go to make it bleed. 
 Maybe he’d always hated barbers, too. 
When she’d announced she was finished, and Goro forced himself to look back in the mirror, it actually took him aback. It had taken years off him. She’d styled his bangs, and left no hair on his chin, but most importantly, it was clean. Soft looking. Pleasant. 
It was almost enough to distract him from the discolored scar plastered on his forehead. 
He stared for probably too long. His disheveled bangs had kept it clearly out of view on his first glance, but now that he was fresh and groomed, it pushed its way into the limelight. It was reddish, and almost shiny, and painstakingly circular. 
He could feel dread bubbling up. He tore himself away from the mirror, and found an instant sense of relief when he wasn’t staring anymore. 
Reflections and barbers. More to read into later, he supposed. He was learning he had been quite the hassle. What an annoyance. 
Ohya met him at the entrance. Pure amusement was all over her face. “Shorter than I expected, but you’re looking pretty smart like that.” Her eyes went to his scar, but she made no comment on it. She frowned, but that was all. 
Goro didn’t mind her reluctance on the topic. He raised his eyebrows, and spoke with the silent mutual understanding of  “that is one gnarly goddamn scar” between them. “Ah, and I’m sure the sweatpants add to the look.” 
“Watch it,” she snapped back, sliding into her usual demeanor. “Not like I could get you Levi’s, kid.” 
She paid for his haircut, and out of the shop they went. They walked to the car in anticipating silence. She had her phone out again, texting someone now. Goro didn’t want to get his hopes up. Texting could mean anything, or nothing, or half of one or the other. 
She pushed her seat back getting into the car, and pulled one leg up with her. Goro waited for her to speak, keeping himself tense. He really wouldn’t be able to loosen up if he tried, like a wound up doll who’d gotten stuck. 
Ohya broke the quiet. “It’s still there.” 
Goro sucked in, but didn’t let himself relax. Nothing ended there. It was one check off a list, but not all of them.
 “And can we go in?” 
Ohya blew air out of her mouth. “Well, she said she wants to make sure it's you, because there's only so many privacy laws she wants to break.” She shrugged at him. “But honestly, looking at you now, there's not a doubt in my mind you’re Goro Akechi. So, you can chill about it.” 
He leaned back into his seat. The tensity had not left him. Something was making him lucky today, and he hated it. He would feel much more comfortable in the mitts of misfortune. But he couldn’t help feeling giddy, too. Like something was rubbing circles into his back, easing, but not erasing, bits and pieces of his concerns. It was something to focus on, and a goal to achieve. Above all, that relief made him feel pathetic. 
“I was gonna ask if you wanted to go today or not, but you look more thrilled than I think I’ve ever seen you, so I’m just gonna take that as a yes.” 
He hated the way she worded that. He frowned. “Only if you’re as concerned about my identity as you seemed to be earlier. You’re welcome to take your time, I’m surely not going anywhere.” 
“You’re snarky! I never realized you had an attitude,” Ohya laughed. 
She got the car going, and they were on their way to the unit. Apparently it was quite a ways, and Ohya advised him he’d better buckle in for a long one. 
He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. He had things he wanted to think about, and questions he wanted to ask. Working up a tolerance to being active was not something that could be done in a day, but fuck if he wouldn’t try anyway. 
But, despite how he tried to fight it, Goro fell asleep. 
*****
He woke up when they were about ten minutes from the units. Ohya commented she’d thought it was a little funny that he’d been so exhausted doing just about nothing all day, but admitted too that his body was probably pretty weak, and he really should take it easy. As easy as he could, at least. 
They were both quiet for the remainder of the drive. The sun was getting low now. They were passing by suburbs between grassy fields, driving past exit by exit. He had no idea how long they’d been going for. Ohya had called herself busy, and Goro believed it, so her continual help felt unusual. People weren’t just like this, he was almost sure. 
She also knew things that felt… almost inappropriately relevant to him. The topic of the unit still tingled in the back of his mind. Why had they called her about his storage? And for that matter, why had she even known so much about him? The information she had felt intimate— like the results of a deep investigation. Had this all been yielded from that politician? 
But Ohya had a distinct air of privacy. There could’ve been something personal about her aid, but Goro figured that she wouldn’t crack easily. It might be better to leave it— personal matters tended to yield lasting effects, after all. At least, he assumed so. He really wasn’t sure if that was as big of a plus as it appeared on the surface, though. 
When the centre came into view, Goro let those thoughts ease into the back of his mind. He could focus on Ohya’s MO later. This was leaps and bounds more important to him; if anything was going to last, it was this. He could play detective, just like he was supposed to, and maybe come across some special clue. Perhaps he could test out his muscle memory and flex whatever skills he presumed he’d had. 
They arrived, and it looked extremely closed. Like the only customers they’d been expecting were ghosts. The lights in the windows were off, and the gate guarding the units was shut tight. It wasn’t encouraging. 
Ohya read his expression pretty clearly. She bumped his shoulder with her fist. “She knows we’re coming, my contact’s still here. The front just closes at 6:00. I’ll deal with it, so just stay put for now.” 
And just as she said, after she hopped out of her car and approached the office, the door swiftly opened and a woman joined Ohya outside. The two of them seemed friendly. Goro watched as they talked, noting quizzically to himself that Ohya was someone who talked with her hands. 
Ohya gestured to her car and they both looked over to Goro. He watched them walk over, and obeyed smartly when Ohya signaled him to roll down his window. 
 The woman peeked her head around to look at him, her eyebrows arched high. “Wow,” she said, completely staring now. “I mean, he looks like him, that’s for sure.” 
Ohya grinned. “Sure does. That enough for you to let us in?” She didn’t really say it as a request, more like an expectation. Goro appreciated the tone. 
She fiddled with her bottom lip. “Hmm. You said amnesia? He got any doctor's notes about that?” She asked, giving cue to Ohya’s sour expression. 
“You didn’t say a word about notes 
on the phone, you know.” 
The contact clicked her tongue, and looked back to Goro. She bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed. “Just cause it’s you, Ohya, I’ll take that nasty scar on his forehead as my confirmation.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Come with me inside, I’ll get his key.” 
Ohya made a haughty noise of achievement, and followed the woman back in. Goro rolled up the window again. 
They were taking a little while. He rubbed at his scar absentmindedly. So obviously a bullet wound, maybe that had been the real reason his barber hadn’t made much conversation. Whoever tried to kill him had shot just where it counted. You don’t fire a warning shot into a head. He wondered if he’d deserved it, and doubted he didn’t.  
Goro removed his hand when Ohya reemerged from the building, and she was looking confident. She slid back into her car and jingled the key to his unit victoriously. “Easy peasy. She’s gonna open the gate for us in a second. Your unit number is 508.” 
They waited for a little while, nerves ever growing, until the automatic gates opened on their own, groaning and creaking until fully extended. Ohya started her car and drove in, squinting at the unit numbers in the low light.
Rows upon rows of garages awaited them. This must’ve been a pretty large lot, by the looks of things. The dirt road was the only uneven piece of scenery, the repetition was endless. He kept a watchful eye on the unit numbers, as well, skipping between the evens and the odds. 
After a few right turns, and one very tight u-turn, they were there. 508 stood wedged between its neighbors, almost at the end of the row, but not quite. Not a thing stood out about it. It was just as gray and worn and untouched as the rest of the facility. Not even the dirt was remarkable. It reminded him of the hospital. 
Ohya held the key out to Goro. 
“I’m assuming you want this to be a ‘just you’ kinda thing?” 
The gesture was something he should’ve expected, but didn’t. It made him hesitate for a moment. 
He took the key. “I appreciate it,” he said. 
“No sweat.” 
He got out of her car, and she drove off to the end of the row. She stayed parked within general sight of the unit. It was essentially pseudo privacy, but neither of them knew how long he’d be in there, and who knows what this could trigger. Ohya also didn’t seem like she knew a thing about amnesia. He wouldn’t look to her for comfort of any sort, but there was reassurance in her being a safe figure. 
He took a deep breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth. This was his step one. He’d gotten himself into some deep shit, his past self hadn’t seemed to have a shred of self preservation in mind. Had he not encountered Ohya, he could’ve been dead by the hands of the crooks that call themselves the police by now. He had a lot more steps to cover, and each one would be riskier than the next. He was much more on his own than he realistically should’ve been. Most people had friends, as far as he knew. But this was seemingly his own fault. He wanted to know why exactly it was his fault. 
One more deep breath. 
He inserted the key into the lock, and grabbed the handle of the metal shutter. He pushed up, and with a squeak of rust and a bang of metal, he opened up his door to more dangerous times. 
And it was nearly empty. 
It was barren concrete. Newly disturbed dust was floating about. It was eerily quiet, and the stale air made his throat itch. Cobwebs stuck in the corners, barely visible in the low light of the setting sun. Though he wouldn’t call it underwhelming. 
In the center of the floor was a cardboard box. About medium sized, without a lid. It matched well with the rest of the room, lined with dust and unaltered. He kneeled in front of it. 
It was its contents that felt much more exciting. There were papers, lots of them. Thick manila envelopes full of information for him to flip through. He scooted back towards the entrance and pulled the box along with, trying to get the last of the light funneling in to help him read. 
It was heavier than he expected, and he didn’t know how much to attribute that to his current lack of strength. He took out the first envelope and it, despite the dust, was clear and candid. When he flipped it around, he noticed with eagerness that there was writing on the front. He tried to make it out as clearly as he could, and in careful handwriting, it read: “05/21/2020— Case No. 1471” 
It was a case file. He pulled out another envelope, and it was similarly marked. His interest was surely piqued. There must’ve been some sort of relevance to these, if they were going to be so pointedly left here. He pulled out a third, and then a fourth, and from the weight he’d expected many more. But, the pile ended there. Instead, what filled the rest of the box was another, smaller, wooden one. 
He took it out delicately, gripping it securely around the sides to ensure he didn’t drop it. This seemed much more… personal. Shiny cherry wood, latched but not locked, just small enough to sit on his lap firmly. A thought that couldn’t help but be excited came to mind. 
This could’ve belonged to me. 
He wasted no time. He undid the latch, and it gave a satisfying click. The hinges creaked just barely as his clammy hands lifted the lid, and pulled all the way back, until it rested hanging by itself. 
Inside sat more papers. Some were crisper than others, some had obviously been crumpled and then flattened out again. But there was consistency in each of them being folded neatly in half, stacked neatly on top of each other. 
He picked up the one from the beginning of the pile, unfolded it, and was surprised to find it had hardly been written on; a simple “To you,” at the top. This was a candidate that had been clearly wadded up and discarded. He set it down carefully, and picked up the next. 
This one hadn’t been written on much, either. It said even less, just “Hello.” 
He picked up another, and another. It was all soft stationary, each topped with slightly different wordings, and some decorated with a couple lines, even. But they were all just about the same, a simple greeting, and then resigning. 
They were letters. Or rather— drafts for one. So he’d learned today that he was indecisive, maybe a bit quick tempered, but potentially also at least organized. He assumed the existence of these drafts meant he’d never gotten around to sending his letter, either. And perhaps he’d never get such a chance, if this visit didn’t convince any muggy memories to creep out of their caves.  
As he pulled out drafts and read his pathetic one-liners, he came across a page that was different. There was actually a fair amount of content on it, over a paragraph's worth. It had obviously also been cast aside, but even a spare scrap could be useful to him, in this state. He used the last of the remaining light to read it. 
“To whom it may concern, 
I would like to skip the inherent shamefulness of writing a letter to you, of all things, in my introduction, and I will title this ambiguously under the assumption that if you believe this does truly not concern you, that you will save me the mortification of reading through it anyways. 
I won’t formally phrase this as a farewell, but you should take it as one. 
Our unknowns are too great to write, and while you were not innocent, neither am I, and there are truths between the two of us that shouldn’t have remained unspoken. I’ve never thought to run from the blame. 
My hands are not clean, and maybe they never will be, but they can still carry you home when you’re ready to sleep. 
Perhaps a fact I recognized too late.
I do not want to say goodbye, however I—“
It cut off. 
The letter left a lump in Goro’s throat. He read it through once more. He wanted to analyze each sentence down to its core, but the light had died out. But there were bits and pieces, words that suck out in his mind. “Farewell,” “Innocent,” “Unspoken.”
“Too late.”
Goro bit down on his lip hard. The case files— those he understood. With the life he’d allegedly lived and the people he’d known, of course something like that would be predominant. They were fact on paper, ignorant of bias, they’d be full of names and leads. They were important. But, he didn’t understand why these almost-letters had been left here. Out of anything that could’ve been kept. Had there been someone he’d felt so strongly for? To be kept in safety behind lock and key? 
To identify this person— that could be his next goal to achieving his memories. To ignite the fire of their eventual reunion, and perhaps they could know what happened to him. They could come easy, though he suspected that anyone who he’d decided to be so rottenly open with wouldn’t be typical. But, they would also know him, past the media, past the appearances. 
And, though he wasn’t going to admit it, he’d needed something more hopeful to work towards. 
He put the papers back where they belonged, placed the entire case back into the cardboard box, and stacked the case files back atop it. 
There was no telling how old these letters were. They could’ve been from much before his incident. But this set him up for a goal, a big one, that might get him back to whatever meager place he’d left himself in. 
He picked up the box, and prepared himself to head back outside to Ohya. He needed to muster up his resolve, because this was only the first out of two very important clues this visit could provide. 
He positioned the box onto his waist, and took one last look into the dark before closing up his unit. He returned to Ohya’s car, pulling open the door without so much as a greeting, and set the box on the floor in front of his seat. 
Ohya leaned forward, interested. “That a box you got?” 
He wasn’t going to talk about the embarrassing letters he found. Even if he wanted to, his second clue came first. “It’s not that important right now,” he lied. “Is your contact still here?” 
She raised her eyebrows at him, but let the topic drop. “Sure is. She can’t leave ‘till we leave.” 
Good. “I need to speak with her.” 
She hummed in reply, seeming very curious by his idea. They drove back up to the entrance, Ohya not questioning his motives, but still giving him an inquiring side eye every so often. 
They got out of the car together this time, and walked into the front office. The woman was reading behind the counter, almost completely in the dark, with only a desk lamp lighting her work area. 
She glanced up at them, and placed her book upside down. “Hey there. You got that key?” 
“Yes,” Goro replied. He placed it lightly on the counter. She took it without a word, and got up to put it back on its hook. Goro stopped her before she turned. “I have a question for you.” 
She seemed a little surprised. She glanced between him and Ohya, and then put her free hand on her hip. “Okay?”
He hoped he could push his luck just a bit further today. He’d made it this far, after all. 
“Is there any way I can see the documentation that was filed when this unit was made?” he asked. 
The woman pursed her lips. “Ohya?” 
Ohya put her hands up defensively. “Don’t look at me. This is all him.” 
The woman stared at Goro. He stared back. This was arguably the most important part of the visit. He needed to see those papers. Just a single particular part, it was the one factor that needed an explanation. He would not leave until he got that documentation, and if he had to stand his ground and pull her leg a bit to get it, he would. 
After their staring contest lasted just a moment too long, she folded her arms. “Jeez. Only because I feel bad for you, okay?” she huffed, turning on her heel. “And because my niece liked your food blog.” 
She disappeared into the back of the office, leaving Goro feeling just a bit full of himself. He would think about the food blog comment later.
Ohya lightly punched his arm. “Okay, good going. But whatcha going to do with that?” 
“There’s something I need to check,” he replied flatly. It made Ohya grunt unenthusiastically. 
The woman returned with a few papers, all paper clipped together. She tossed them onto the counter. “This is a customer copy, okay? So feel free to keep it.” She glared at Ohya. “And, I’m going home now. So, get out, please.” 
That got a laugh out of Ohya. “I know I can always count on you to bend a couple of rules for me.” 
“Out.” 
They left the building, Ohya waving her last goodbyes while Goro rushed to the car. He needed to get some light on these papers, it was long past sundown now. He slid himself into the car, clicked on one of the lights, and went to work reading, all while Ohya was still walking over. 
Ohya opened her door and stood outside watching him, leaning on the frame. First, it was with interest, but it soon turned into irritation.
“Kid, tell me what you’re looking for. You’ve got your eyeballs all over that thing,” she said. 
He didn’t let their conversation stop him from reading. He kept his eyes glued to the page, checking each word and box before moving on. 
He did owe her an explanation. Getting his thoughts out would help him focus a bit, anyway. 
“These sorts of things— storage units. Wouldn't they be paid for recurrently?” 
Ohya went quiet for a moment. “They are,” she said, and joined him in the car. “Shit. Those funds can’t be coming from you, can they.” 
“Exactly. I’m looking for the responsible billing party.” He turned onto the next page. None of the handwriting matched what he’d seen on his papers and files, which further confirmed to him that this unit hadn’t been one he’d purchased himself. Whoever this was had put all that information in there, those cases, those letters. He suspected they weren’t his mystery recipient, but he could confirm that with them once they’d met.
Why this had been done in his name, though, was beyond him. 
He flipped onto the last page, and found his prize. Big black bolded letters asking for the responsible parties name, and neat penmanship filling in the blank. 
“Sae Niijima,” he read aloud. 
Ohya gawked. 
“‘Sae Niijima?’ Seriously?” she scoffed to herself, and sunk down further in her seat. “She’s an attorney. A damn good one, too.” 
An attorney? He wondered how she could’ve known him. “She’s the one paying, apparently.” 
Ohya tapped long slender fingers onto her steering wheel again. She dropped her head. “Guess that means she’s our next lead, huh?” 
Goro adjusted himself in his seat. “It does.” 
“Ahh, man,” she complained. “You’re really somebody who’s in with the big guns, you know. You better let me have some exclusive with you after all this is done, or something.” 
Goro gave way a hint of a smile. Probably his first since he’d woken up. If this would be the last of his luck, so be it. He hated to rely on something so shifty and mischievous, anyways. This was a start, barely a sprout, to whatever his big picture was. But he’d see himself to the very top. 
Really, he’d already died once. Hardly a way to go but up. 
“We’ll see.” 
172 notes · View notes
hashtagartistlife · 5 years ago
Text
Maybe fate was called fate because some things weren’t choices; some things were simply written into his DNA, woven into the very fabric of the universe. World orders. The sky is blue. The sun is hot. He is in love with Kuchiki Rukia.
Kuchiki Rukia is dying.  
Ten years after the defeat of Yhwach, it’s time Ichigo and Rukia started facing some truths— about the world, about themselves, and about each other. 
this is all i have of this fic for now (this and a tiny little bit of chapter 3), i guess it’ll be updated when i woman the fuck up and wrack up enough nerves to keep writing which im hoping will be sometime this decade :’/ but i might post chapters i have for other unfinished fics i have over the next few days so if you’re into unfinished fics (read: literally nobody) then stick around!!! 
premise for this fic | chapter 1 here | this is chapter 2
________________________________________________________________
f r a y
by hashtagartistlife
________________________________________________________________
Two 
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9:12 am 
Kurosaki Clinic
When Renji wakes up the next morning to find Rukia safely asleep beside him, he feels the tension across his shoulders ease somewhat. They’d both been a little worried about how her sleepwalking habit might fit into this visit (even though neither of them had voiced their concerns out loud), he more so than she for reasons he had yet to disclose to her. Her breathy sigh of ‘Ichigo?’ rings in his ears. He hadn’t seen a point in telling Rukia about that, not when she was still refusing to admit she had a problem in the first place. She’d just feel needlessly guilty and isolate herself even more. Renji knows how Rukia works. What he doesn’t know is how to break through that shell she builds around herself, how to draw her out of it and get her to face her problems head-on. 
No, he admits (and he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a trace of bitterness in the way he thought it), that’s always been Ichigo’s specialty. He looks across the rowdy breakfast table to his friend, who is sitting uncharacteristically silent with a mug of something dark and unappetising in his hands. His eyes are shadowed, tired, and when he meets Renji’s gaze he starts almost guiltily before curving his lips into an uneasy smile. 
The hell’s all that about? Renji thinks, but then Ichika slams into his knee, shoving a glass of orange juice into his face, and he puts the moment out of his mind. The rest of the morning is filled with trying out some godawful beverage called ‘coffee’ at Orihime’s behest, wrangling Ichika into human world clothes, and sending the children off, along with their mothers, to go meet Sado. He and Ichigo stay back, Ichigo to tend to his clinic and he to go see Urahara. Since gensei visits were so few and far between, even on what was ostensibly a holiday they had been saddled with checking in on the shopkeeper to exchange news and technology. Renji figures he might as well get that out of the way first, and catch up with Sado later. 
At least, he figures that until Ichigo corners him just before he walks out the door, a dark expression on his face. He looks uncomfortable, standing in the doorway of his own house, a hand on the back of his neck, and Renji notes with a kind of detached surprise that if Ichigo hadn’t been slumping, they’d be more or less at a height now. He raises an eyebrow at him in a silent question. 
“A— about Rukia—” Ichigo stumbles over the syllables in her name, and stops, wetting his lips, looking nervous. A sense of foreboding settles into Renji’s gut; Ichigo hasn’t looked this worried in— well, a decade. He stays quiet, letting Ichigo finish his question. “Has she ever— has she ever sleepwalked before?”
He freezes in his tracks; frantically, Renji rewinds last night in his mind. It’s no use; he’d been out for the count for a solid eight hours. If he hadn’t been so tired lately, he’d have thought someone had spiked his drink. Try as he might, he can’t remember Rukia slipping out of bed at all. But she’d been back in bed by the morning, so someone must have intercepted her—
Ichigo. Rukia’s voice, ghostly in his mind, calling his name. Ichigo. Ichigo. Ichigo—
His breath leaves him in a long, long sigh, and Renji closes his eyes before gesturing for Ichigo to sit. 
.
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6:53 am
Ichigo doesn’t go back to his bed after the kiss. Instead he sits outside the clinic, on the cold hard asphalt, for one eternity— two— til the sun starts lightening the end of the street and the moon grows paler in the sky. He can still feel Rukia on his skin, in his veins, lingering like a drug that refuses to clear. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be empty of her touch now that he’s known it. 
When the moon finally disappears and the sun well and truly risen, he picks himself up from the ground and stumbles back into the house, feeling like he was the sleepwalker now. The sight of their children sprawled out together in their blanket fort brings the reality of what he’s done rushing back to him. He can’t help the reflex that brings his fingers up to ghost over his lips, like a lovesick teenager. The breath leaves his lungs like he’s been punched, and he turns away from the kids, sleeping angelically side-by-side. He can’t bear the thought of facing either of them, of facing anyone in this household any more. 
What does he do now? Does he go back to bed, pretend nothing ever happened— slip into his place beside Orihime and forget the fact that his heart is beating again for the first time in ten years? Does he come clean to her and beg forgiveness, tell her he loves her and it won’t ever happen again, or does he lock this away in a dark recess of his mind, just like he’s done with his shinigami powers and everything related to her for the last decade? His mind casts around frantically for excuses — he was tired. It was the middle of the night. Hell, he doesn’t even know if it really happened anymore — was everything a fever dream, triggered by the immense relief of seeing Rukia again? But his blood is thrumming in his veins, and the power he’d spent his entire adult life crushing down is once again swirling and eddying just under his skin, exactly like it had when he was seventeen. His hands are shaking, and his skin feels hot. He can’t lie to himself. Rukia was here. Rukia’d kissed him. He’d kissed her back. 
He drags his trembling hands over his eyes, down his face; slumps into a chair in the kitchen and attempts to evade the question that becomes more pressing with every second. What now? It was clear that Rukia had no idea what had happened. The weight of this transgression was his alone to carry. Even if she had remembered, the fault lay with him— she’d been asleep, but he’d been wide awake and had pulled her towards him. 
A part of him— the good part, the noble part, the part that had once forced its way through layers of hollow to tell his zanpakutou to fuck off out of his fight with Byakuya— is yelling at him to confess, to lay himself at Orihime’s mercy and take whatever comes from it. But a larger, more insistent part of him is asking, for what? What does telling Orihime accomplish, but the breaking of four hearts? He has never deserved Orihime, with her soft smiles and kind words to his rough edges; the fact that he is, once again, an awful person to her— for her— is not news. What is the point of ruining her spun-sugar smile with something that will never happen again—
liar
—especially when it doesn’t just involve him? If he confesses, it’s not just his head on the line; it’s Rukia’s, too, no matter the fact that she was asleep at the time. And he might be willing to risk everything he ever is or was for far less than this, but there is no way in hell he will do that to Rukia. Not for some one-off sleepwalking incident that she had no control over, and if it happens again he’ll just push her away—
liar
— and oh, god, was this a thing that happened often? Rukia’d always been a deep sleeper; she was, despite everything she insisted to the contrary, very clearly not okay if she was sleepwalking like this. 
As his thoughts spiral back to the cause of his turmoil, Ichigo becomes acutely aware of her reiatsu upstairs, thrumming rapidly like a hummingbird’s wings. It seems lighter and more unsettled than he remembers it being, and the tinge of instability to it as it flares and retreats irregularly unnerves him. Rukia’s reiatsu control has always been top-class, so this distinct lack of it triggers alarm bells in his mind. He swallows, and attempts to smooth down the ragged edges of her power with his; but wherever his reiatsu brushes against hers, it just flares brighter and more powerful and he has to give up, lest it disturb Renji or the kids.
It's been a while since he's felt someone else’s reiatsu like this, but he knows this isn't normal; concern eats at him even as it wars with an urge to ignore it and bury everything about this incident as deep as possible. Rukia isn’t an idiot, she would have gotten help if it was something serious—but would she, really? He knows better than anyone how stubborn she can be when she thinks she’s being a burden. She’d die before she let someone else take the fall for her. 
He closes his eyes. 
He scowls; ten years it’s been, and she’s still so— so— so her. Longer hair, a husband and child, a Captain’s haori, and nothing matters; she’s still stubborn, still a bitch who lives to help everyone else but won’t let anyone help her. It's evident in the way she refuses to say she’s tired, the way that Renji’s eyes follow her around everywhere, worried. She’s still the self-sacrificing idiot she’d been from day one, and he—
He is still the coward he’d been twelve years ago, when he’d watched her bleed out on the concrete before him and only then been spurred into action. 
This isn’t about him. If Rukia is ill, then he has to let someone know— someone who can actually do something about it. His feelings — whatever they are— does not factor into the equation. This is about Rukia—
— so, he needs to talk to Renji. 
.
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10:18 am
“Has Rukia ever sleepwalked before?”
A moment of tension across Renji’s features, and then a long, long sigh; he gestures for Ichigo to sit, and the two of them shuffle over to the recently vacated kitchen table. Renji rubs his face tiredly, and Ichigo’s sense of foreboding grows. 
“... Last night, huh?” Renji says, and Ichigo almost jumps out of his skin; did he know? Could he see— was the mark of Rukia's lips on his visible, indelible, the way it felt like to him? Could everyone read it on his face, that he and Rukia—
Renji’s voice is weary as he continues. “Yeah. Yeah, she's sleepwalked before. The past few years, actually. What did she do last night? How did you find her?”
— kissed—  “She— she walked out of the clinic and I heard the door open. Renji, is she— is she okay—”
Renji leans his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands. “I don't know,” he breathes, frustration dripping from every syllable. “I don't know, she won't tell me, you know how she is—”
Did he ever. Ichigo remembers with vivid clarity the time she'd sustained a stomach wound, back in the days before Soul Society; she hadn’t told him for three days, and had only agreed to go see Urahara when she'd finally collapsed in his arms. 
“ — don't think I've tried—? God, doctors, healers, we've tried everything, Kuchiki-Taichou’s worried out of his mind. But she won't have any of it, says she won't let us waste time fussing over her when there are better things to worry about—”
“That fucking idiot,” Ichigo mutters, and Renji barks out what is almost a laugh. 
“Right? Drives me up the fucking wall. Wouldn't be Rukia if she didn't.”
“Guess not.”
Renji cracks a strained smile before it fades away into seriousness again. “It wasn't this bad before,” he says, and Ichigo sits up straight. 
“Recent thing, then?”
“Depends what you'd classify as recent. I mean, she's never been a heavy sleeper—”
At this, Ichigo interrupts. “Wait, really? She's always slept like the dead—” 
Renji gives him a look, and Ichigo remembers who it is that is sharing her bed now. He shuts up. 
“ — as I said, she's never slept too well, even during our Rukon days, and it got pretty bad after the war, but it wasn't— wasn’t to this extent, you know? At least, not till she had Ichika. And then— it was like a switch flipped. She couldn't get to sleep at night, and she could barely keep her eyes open during the day. It started interfering with her work, and you know how that would have killed her; we started to go see a bunch of people for it but nothing seemed to help. And then she started sleepwalking—”
Something cold crawls up Ichigo’s spine.
“She— at first, we didn't know where it was that she was going in her sleep. she wandered the Kuchiki Manor gardens a lot, sometimes she just paced around inside the house. Sometimes she got out of the Kuchiki property and was well into the streets before we found her and brought her back. I didn't know where she was trying to go—” 
Renji breaks off, and looks Ichigo dead in the eye. 
“— till one morning I woke up, and found her at Sokyouku Hill.” 
Ichigo’s blood turns to ice. 
“It was bloody Sokyoku Hill, Ichigo. Every single time— inside the Manor, in the gardens, on the streets. She was always trying to get to Sokyouku Hill. North-north west from the Kuchiki Manor. I—”
Renji’s expression turns supplicating, as if asking him for an answer, but Ichigo has none to give; he’s rooted to the spot by the sheer horror he’s feeling, Rukia strung up against the Sokyouku vivid in his mind. That collar around her neck, a red slash splitting her throat open; her eyes, glazed over with tears. Her skin dyed orange and yellow from the heat of it all. 
“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, Ichigo, for fuck’s sake I can’t even get her to admit that there’s something wrong. I just—” 
Renji drops his head into his hands. Very softly — so soft that Ichigo is sure he isn’t meant to hear these next words— he says to himself: 
“Ten years. Ten years, and I’m still not enough.” 
Ten years. Enough to fell mountains; enough to dry rivers and move oceans. 
Not enough to change a heart. 
When Renji looks up at Ichigo again, his gaze is edged with steel. 
“She says your name.” 
“I— what?” 
“She says your name, when she walks out to Sokyouku Hill. She says your name.” 
A memory, in his mind: Rukia, ethereal in the moonlight. Ichigo? 
Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. 
Ichigo doesn’t know what to say. 
Eventually, Renji breaks their impasse; he sighs and raps the table before getting up. “I’m not such a small man as to beat you to a pulp over that, Ichigo, stop looking like you think I’m going to bite your head off.” 
“I’m not—” he protests automatically, but Renji shushes him with a wave of his hand. 
“You are, but that’s not the point.” He ambles over to the door and looks over his shoulder at him, one hand poised on the handle. “If— if there’s anything you might be able to do for her—” 
“Renji—”
“Please,” Renji says, and even though this time, he isn’t on his knees half-dead before him, Ichigo knows what it’s costing him to make this request. “Please… help her.” 
Of course, Ichigo wants to reply, She’ll be fine, I’ll save her. Rukia’ll be safe—
But he isn’t fifteen anymore. 
“I’ll— try,” he says, lamely, and that is the best they can do. Renji nods. 
“Gonna go see Urahara. He might have some tricks up his sleeve,” he says, but he doesn’t look like he believes what he’s saying. Ichigo waves him off, and Renji slips away.
The sound of the clinic door swinging shut echoes in his wake. 
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3:02 pm
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Click.
“...Hello?”
“Kurosaki-san?”
“...... Urahara-san?”
“Ah, Kurosaki-san, thank goodness you picked up. If you aren’t busy, I’d appreciate your presence at the Shoten as soon as possible.” 
“What? Me? Why?”
A pause; Ichigo finds, for no good reason whatsoever, that he is holding his breath.
“Ah, well. You see, that is—”
Between one accelerating heartbeat and the next—
“Kuchiki-san has collapsed.” 
98 notes · View notes
fisherfurbearer · 5 years ago
Text
fuck sam walmarts
and fuck management
I’ve had it. Left the store in tears tonight.
as some peoople probably/hopefully know. walmart closes at 6 pm on christmas eve. no one actually gets to leave at 6 becuase of shitty last minute customers. but it is what it is.
this. is really personal but im honestly SO close to just. killing myself? so who cares
basically. had a really really bad last few days. spent a lovely time with family (jessies family, his oma and opa and sister and parents and it was just a great time. theyre more family to me than most of my blood family) but it did make me Sad in Deep ways as we dont know if this is going to be our last christmas with his oma who isnt doing so good. and it just twisted me up a little but was othewrsiwse a great day. but then sunday i just...had a huge breakdown in the morning and decided to use my accomodation (i get 2 excused absenses a month) to cool down and gte myself together. slept a lot. woke up adn got a lot done, felt great, then i CRASHED really really bad, got really angry, lashed otu, took like...8-10 sleeping pills...theyre horrific things and im never doing that again...had to sleep for two days after that...felt horrifically sick, in pain, just awful. had repeating nightmares over and over. which has also been wearing me down recently. wasnt able to work monday either because i still couldnt stand and between the pills and the depression/anxiety and really just. felt like the world was ending.
decided sometime last night id just...try my best to make it in today, work my shift (really long 9-6, knowing i wouldnt leave on time nad htisis my first time working in 5 days now...which is rough...) and if i can get through this, i have another couple days off in a row after that (schedules fault, not mine...do feel awful i missed 3 days before that though...) and we can just. get back on track
today i DID go to work, jessie drove me in
i worked. a long time. im supposed to get a break every 2 hours and a 1 hour lunch
i gott my first break on timeish.
then i got my lunch 6 hours after i got in. at which time i got “locked out” for not taking my lunch and coudlnt do anything on the registers. i was supposed to get it 4 hours in. its christmas eve and excruciating and im still in pain and tired from my previous days breakdowns, but otherwise?? i did really good. i didnt mind at all that my lunch was so late. i was a little miffed, but its ok. i dont care, so long as i get it eventually. anyway they FINALLY noticed i was locked out and got me coverage and i ended my lunch at 4. things continued ok. worked on self checkout, met a lot of regulars i really like, prevented $200 of theft (HAHA WOW that was really really funny i love preventing petty theft. i prevent so much theft every week its my pride and joy) just did okay. then they had us close self checkout that took a little while. then at 5:00-5:10 or so i went to my Manager/Supervisor/”““People LEad” as walmart is now trying to call them, lets call her manager Y, and i told her i still need my break and will i get it before i leave. she said go to register 4. i asked again hey will i get my break though and she said yeah and i thought to mysel HAHA thats not going to happen but ok
really stupid that after bieng locked out the first time she couldnt give me my break before i openned a register with a line i cant get rid of
anywayy i did ok otherwise for a while
but at 5:25 or so i reminded a CSM “hey i need my break still can i get that?” and she just ssaid yeah well try to get someone and then more time passed so much time. i put through an ask on the register “assistance needed”. waited another 10 minutes. “assistance needed” again. starting to get anxious. its past 5:40. the line is so long. theres so MUCH NOISE. Its SO LOUD. the intercom keeps going off, no one is responding to me, i dont have a mat to stand on so my knees HURT,, im not doing okk
i switch my light to flashing/need assistance and start looking for someone to ask for help. its 5:45, i need my break NOW, i DESERVE IT for workng this long ass shift and they already missed several of my last breaks a week ago AND got me locked out today and im STARTING TO GET ANXIOUS PELASE I JUST WANT MY BREAK SO BAD
nnthgen a csm is passing by im about to lose it, so i tell her CSM J, please i really need my break now PLEASE and im starting to ccry and i try to tell her whats going on but she shushes me and goes and gets sometone
im full on tears at this point, im so strreesed out,,
manager Y and some other snooty manager come over andd. ffkcing. ask me whats wrong. im crying and i try to explain im really really stressed out, i havent had my last break, ive been trying to get someone for so long now, i just really need to leave im so sorry
and theyy just. fckkng
ffcking manager Y jjst ssays ok “ill give you your break” and “this is your last break” and i ssaid?? yeah i knoww?? andd she saidd “next time youre like this, just dont come in”
i quote that completeltyyy....i really lost it then...i cried som muchh
this isnt the first itme she said something like this to meee...
she asked me “why are you CRYING” When i had an anxiety attacki n the store once, when ic cloked in and couldnt get myself together,, she didnt give me time to calm down, she didnt listen as to why, she just said “why are you crying. this is a BUSINESS. you cant be CRYING Here.” and i just said ok ill go home bye and leftt
andd when i tried to get my availability changed from 7-9 to 7-6/7-7 because the random late shifts with 7 am shifts was messing me up really really bad and my doctor thinks i need to hcange it too, she just said “i cant do that. thisi sa BUSINESS.” and she wouldnt listen when i said i might have to quit because of this, this is for my health, im literally scheduled 7-2 every sunday in december, busiest day of the busiest month and you cant even chop TWO HOURS off my weekend availability????
andd i jjst
ive HAD IT with her
ive had ittt
im so ashamed and angry and anxious and i still havent stopped cryingg. she called me over to her again as i was leaving and she blamed me for it. she ssaid a customer was upset that i “Screamed” (ues i raised my voice a little but i wasnt screaming??? also the two customers i was attending to when this was going on and i cried were VERY KIND nad jjst said i was doing a good job and thanked me for being there) and called a manager over (but...csm J got them?? not a customer...??) and i cant be acitng like this, i cant do customer service when im stressed,, and d i should just STAY HOME If im going to be like that
then shee fufkcing toold me i DID IT WRONG, that i “shouldve called someone over” I TOLD HER I DID!!!!! I DID!!!!!!!!!! YOU NAIL INTO MY HEAD IM NOT ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE REGISTER SO I DIDNT, I DID EVERYTHING ELSE I COULD THOUGH!!! I REQUESTED HELP TWICE!! I TURNED MY LIGHT TO FLASHING!!! I TRIED TO CATCH A MANAGER WALKING BY TO HELP ME!!! N OONE LISTENED UNTIL IT WAS TOO LATE, I DID EVERYHTING I COULD!! yet she seriously told me to my face that “you didnt call anyone”, “you couldve turned your light to flashing” WHICH I DID and sshee jjst said that i made customers uncomfortable and i cant work like thatt and just stay hhome
ii stayed home sunday because i was having a mjor mental emergencyy.
i came in today because i was feeling better and i took it eaasy and ended up doing a wonderful job and mad eso many people smilea nd fixed so many problems that wouldve otherwise upset a lot of folks and i met my regulars and made old folks smile andd i prevented a lot of theft that no one else wouldve caughtt and i jjstt broke down after 9 hours and not getting a last break and all the chaos of register (WHICH BY THE WAY THEY KNOW I DONT LIKE REGISTER!!! I THRIVE ON SLE FCHECOUT!!! THATS MY JOB TITLE!! THATS WHAT I DO!!!! THEY KNOW THISS!!!!) and HER AVOIDING GIVING ME MY FUCKING BREAK and NOT RESPECTING MY FFUCKING METNAL DISABILITIES LJNASDKAJHDBASJSDNAJSNDKANSD
I JJST DONT KNOW WHAT TO DOO
i really want to die and i really want to never go back but i really loved my job i loved helpting people ii jjst hate her so muchhh and i feel GENUINE DREAD/SEVERE ANXIETY jjst SEEING her nnow
she doesnt CARE about anyone but herself shes a horrible peson i cant tell the store manager though cause she wont care either and manager Y has more clout than me so shell just twist my words and make me out as the bad guy as hte “CRAZY ONE” who cries and gets stressed (FOR COMPLETELY VALID REASONS AFTER BEING PUSHED OVER THE EDGE) even tthough i work SO FFRIKCING HARD and do SUCH A GOOD JOB and asdjanjsdhajshdas
i d ont know what to doo
i cant work another job because no where else pays as much or will let me do self checkout only, because being a cashier stresses me so muchh
ii...really wanntted to grow stuff and make preserves and sell bee products and work with folks raising heritage sheep and make more fiber art andd open a little stall at a local market and sell all that,, and offer more online and do customs andd stuff
i know i could mkae money that wa ybut i ccantt start it so sudenly and im too Broken to do it seriouslyy and i dont even want to HAVE to quit because of ONE PERSON But shes done this so many times now and this is the nfinfal streaww
i jjst dont know what to doo...
i cantt stop cryingg
i cant even enjoy christmas nnow. wanted to see my stepdad and give him his presernt and maybe be ok.
last christmas we had to move because our house was condemned after a fire. now im going to have to lose my job because of a horrible manager who doenst respect my metnal health or anything about me reallyy. and unfortunately im such a failure that i cant. do anything else and if i lose this job ill lse my animla sand i wotnt be able to do anyhtingg andd im jjust fucking trash
goddammit i dont know what to do. i really dont. hhahaaa. i just really want to end it. ive come so far and none of it fucking matters because of thiss fucking horrible manager.
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inyournightmares97 · 6 years ago
Text
My Youth (Chapter 6)
Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.
Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, death, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)
Word Count: 5.7k+
(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5)
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“-Mom, I’m busy,” Jinyoung muttered into the phone. He had been sitting in a crucial meeting with the Finance Director of GOT Tech and representatives of the Financial Regulatory Board. Receiving approval for his company to go public was one of the most critical and risky steps in Jinyoung’s career.
His mother, however, had been calling him constantly for the last twenty minutes.
Mrs. Park sounded upset. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung, dear. I just needed to reach you-”
“Mom, I’m in an extremely important meeting right now. Do you know how it looks when the Managing Director of GOT Group keeps getting calls from his mother during business meetings? What do you want from me?” Jinyoung demanded in a frustrated whisper, running his fingers through his hair. He tried not to let his agitation show on his face; the other high-profile attendees of the meeting could still see him through the glass wall of the conference room.
“Jinyoung, there’s been a terrible tragedy in town,” his mother began nervously. “I don’t… I don’t know how to tell you this, but i suppose there’s no easy way to talk about a death.  Remember I told you that I’ve been going to the hospital every day to meet-”
Jinyoung felt a burst of irritation. The clock was ticking. The Board members were waiting for him impatiently and he could see the disapproval on their faces. “Mom, did you call me to tell me that someone died?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Mom, I have been preparing for this presentation for months. The future of my company depends on this meeting. This is absolutely the worst time you could have chosen to tell me something like this,” Jinyoung muttered through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. “Please don’t mess up my focus right now. We can talk about this later. Do you need anything from me urgently?”
Mrs. Park hesitated. “You always seem to be busy these days. I just thought… if we could maybe help out with the funeral expenses or the hospital bills…”
Jinyoung closed his eyes. “Mom, you can just call my secretary for that. She’ll send you whatever amount you need. Send them flowers from me or something, okay? I have to go now.”
“Take care, Jinyoung, dear-”
“Bye, Mom.”
Jinyoung hung up and sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. His personal secretary had followed him out of the room and was watching him nervously. He hadn’t even asked his mother who it was that had passed away. Was it somebody he knew? Maybe it was best that he didn’t think about it too much for now.
“Take my Mom’s call and ask her who died, send them money for the funeral and all those formalities,” Jinyoung told his secretary shortly. She nodded and made a note of it on her phone quickly while Jinyoung cleared his mind.
Focus. The presentation. The numbers.  
Jinyoung took a deep, calming breath and plastered a rehearsed smile on his face before he turned to enter the conference room once more.
“I’m so sorry to keep you gentlemen waiting,” Jinyoung greeted all the well-dressed men with a bright smile. “I hope you can forgive me. Mothers seem to have a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?”
The men chuckled politely. “That’s perfectly fine, Mr. Park.”
“May I begin the presentation?”
“Please, do.”
--------
Jinyoung believed that to achieve something great, you needed to make certain sacrifices.
He had always known that the path he was embarking upon was not an easy one. Establishing your own business meant that you didn't get off work at 5 pm sharp, you couldn’t spend your weekends at a countryside cabin or getting drinks with your friends. You needed to keep working until things got done. You needed to compete in the market. You needed to be strong enough to pick up after your losses and clever enough to make friends in the right places. People were depending on you.
Jinyoung hadn’t merely chosen a career, he had chosen a life.
A very lonely life.
Whenever his mother would call him and try to have a casual chat, Jinyoung would find himself irritated. Who cared whether Mrs. Lee from the grocery store was giving a discount on strawberry bread? What did it matter if Mr. Cha had been trying to sell his little farmland? There was important work to be done. Jinyoung needed to talk to the advertising agents to make sure his products were being launched properly, he needed to negotiate discounts with suppliers to ensure he could meet the planned pricing goals. There were employees relying on him. There were investors who had trusted him with their money. There were quarterly goals that had to be met.
Every second of Jinyoung’s time was precious. Why couldn’t everyone understand that? Why couldn’t his mother stop thinking that her tiny little world in this tiny little town was everything, and understand the importance of what her son was doing?
There are a limited number of hours every man has at his disposal. We each make a conscious choice regarding how to spend each one.
It was only now, standing in front of your mother’s grave, that Jinyoung came a terrifying realization.
He had made the wrong choices.
------
“It was heart failure,” Mrs. Park whispered.
Jinyoung’s hands clutched the cup of tea firmly. It was hot and uncomfortable, but not more than the sick feeling in his stomach. Every word his mother spoke made him feel more pathetic.
What had he been doing all those months while your mother was in hospital and when she’d died? Preparing for his company to go public? Sitting in meetings and sucking up to corporate officials? Only to be fired and thrown out of the company. Only to have missed the death of somebody who had trusted him and cared for him.
“But she couldn’t have been that old…” Jinyoung muttered.
Mrs. Park shook her head softly. “She’d always had a weak heart, Jinyoung. Her health was fragile and after her husband passed away she had no choice but to work to support her daughter. All those long hours and late nights for years… they took their toll in the end. She had her first stroke three years ago. She was in hospital for a few weeks and then she had the second one; the one that took her life.”
Jinyoung closed his eyes, remembering your mother in his mind’s eye.
“She always looked tired. And worried.”
“She was.” Mrs. Park reached out and placed a hand over her son’s nervously. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung. I should have told you about it sooner. But you were always so busy in Seoul, always doing important things. It never seemed like the right time to tell you about something so devastating. It’s my fault.”
Jinyoung let out a small scoff. “Don’t take the blame on yourself. That doesn’t help me.”
Mrs. Park looked upset. “Jinyoung-”
She was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. Jinyoung closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temple while he listened to his father go to the door and yell at the person on the other side. The reporters had already found his home address. They had started arriving one-by-one since this morning. Each of them desperately wanted an interview with Park Jinyoung, the man who had lost his empire overnight. They wanted to know what he had to say about his dismissal from his own company.
Mr. Park re-entered the living room and sighed. “They’re getting more persistent. I think I should call the local police before they start trying to shove their way into our house.”
Jinyoung nodded and stood up. “I’ll go down to the police station myself and ask them to send someone to deal with this harrassment. Mom, you’ve told everyone we know to deny any reporters who request them for an interview, right?”
“Yes, but is it really a good idea for you to be going outside now-”
“I think I’ll lose my mind if I stay indoors,” Jinyoung muttered. He grabbed the black hoodie that was slung over the back of the sofa and glanced at his parents. They were both looking at him with wide, worried eyes.
Jinyoung felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him; why should they have to deal with so much because of his mistakes? Why was he always the one taking and yet never giving?
“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “I’ll try and be back for dinner.”
------
Jinyoung’s legs carried him naturally towards the elementary school.
Perhaps it was a subconscious urge to see you, even though he had no idea what he would say if you really appeared before him. Anything Jinyoung could have said to help should have been said three years ago. Words like I’m sorry seemed like an insensitive joke at this point; too little and far too late.
Jinyoung sat silently on the bench by the schoolyard with his face covered by his dark hoodie, and wondered how his life had brought him to this point.
Left with nothing with shame.
“Ahjussi!”
By the time Jinyoung looked up, there was already a tiny figure running straight towards him at full speed. He flinched and braced himself for the impact; only to have the small boy stop centimetres away from him and throw his arms around him happily. Jinyoung stiffened.
“What-”
“Ahjussi, you are Park Jinyoung!” Ki-woo cried delightedly. The boy was beaming. Jinyoung noticed for the first time that one of his front teeth was missing, but it was still one of the brightest smiles he had ever seen. “Miss told me yesterday! Why did you lie and say you weren't? I can’t believe the King of the Playground walked me home after school and I didn’t even know!”
Jinyoung couldn’t resist a small smile. The sight of the little boy bouncing on his feet warmed him for a moment and he patted Ki-woo on the head. “If somebody asked Clark Kent if he was Superman, he wouldn’t say yes, now would he?”
Ki-woo’s eyes widened in understanding. “Wow. That’s so true! You’re so cool!”
“You’ll have to keep my secret.”
“Of course I will! Ahjussi, can you tell me how you did it? How did you manage to climb the oak tree?” Ki-woo demanded, grabbing Jinyoung’s arm and tugging on it eagerly. “You have to tell me, you just have to! Were you really tall?”
Jinyoung blinked. “Tall? Not particularly…”
“Then how? How did you do it?”
Jinyoung opened his mouth to respond but he was cut off by a loud yell. He had been so preoccupied with Ki-woo that he hadn’t noticed the much larger man that was making his way across the school yard. Jackson Wang had a huge smile on his face and without greeting, he threw his arms around Jinyoung in a fierce hug.
“Park Jinyoung! Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!” Jackson cried happily. He pulled back and noticed the blank look on Jinyoung’s face. With a frown, he pointed to himself eagerly. “Remember me? Jackson! Jackson Wang! You used to pass me all the answers in History class!”
Jinyoung swallowed. “Uh…”
“Mr. Wang, you’re friends with Park Jinyoung?” Ki-woo asked, his mouth gaping open.
Jackson blinked and looked down at the boy sheepishly. “Ah, Ki-woo. I didn’t see you down there. Didn’t your teacher tell you to wait inside until someone came to pick you up? Go back indoors now.”
Ki-woo pouted. “But-”
“Nope. Back inside. Now.”
Jackson waited until Ki-woo began to slouch back towards the school building and then turned back to Jinyoung. “Man, you’re pretty much the celebrity around these parts now, eh? We had a couple of reporters come by the school this morning, asking for anyone who used to know you. You have nothing to worry about! I scared them off. These babies aren’t here for nothing,” Jackson beamed and flexed his bare bicep.
Jinyoung didn’t really know how to respond. “Nice.”
Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You do remember me, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course-”
“We should get drinks sometime and catch up now that you’re back in town! Man, I really owe you. You did me a solid one that Christmas before you left, remember? I’ll buy you a couple of beers at the pub. What’s your phone number?” Jackson demanded.
“I don’t really have a phone right now…”
“Don’t have a phone?” Jackson looked confused. “Weird but okay. I guess I can always ask Miss First Grade to get in touch with you. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me you were back in town!” he cried, slapping Jinyoung’s arm playfully. “Hold on… you’re here to see her, aren’t you?”
Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Not exactly…”
Jackson chuckled knowingly. “No worries, man. I’ve got your back. I need to go inside and take care of the kids now, so I’ll tell her to come out and meet you here, yeah? Let me know if any more of those reporters come around. I’ll take handle them for you!”
Jinyoung forced a smile. “Thanks-”
“No problem, man. It’s what friends are for. We’ll catch up soon!”
“Sure.”
Jinyoung watched Jackson half-run back to the school building, letting out a sigh of relief. Each person he came across in this town seemed to remember something about him and the one who possessed the most dangerous knowledge was Jackson Wang. In addition to having been the resident supplier of inappropriate magazines and the one who’d convinced Jinyoung to try his first cigarette behind the park back in high school, Jackson simply knew a little too much about everybody.
Jinyoung sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. He just realized that Jackson had said he would send you out to meet him. Why hadn’t he told him not to? He wasn’t prepared to face you. Idiot.
It was a few minutes before you emerged from the school building and walked towards Jinyoung. There was a pleasant smile on your face as you approached, and it made Jinyoung’s stomach turn. How could you smile at him like that? How could you be so calm about everything?
“Jinyoung,” you greeted him, confused. “Should you be roaming around out here? There are reporters buzzing all around town.”
Jinyoung cleared his throat. “Uh. Yeah, I know. Jackson said he drove them away...”
You rolled your eyes. “That idiot Jackson Wang? He was fully prepared to seize his five minutes of fame by telling them how you used to help him cheat in History class. I had to step in and force him to deny the request for an interview,” you muttered. Jinyoung’s eyes widened and you gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I sent a message to the principal of the middle school and the high school. Nobody’s going to give any interviews about you.”
Jinyoung felt small.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“Did they find your house?”
“Yeah. They’ve been knocking the door all day. It’s really starting to bother Mom and Dad.”
Your expression was sympathetic. “Should I call the police?”
“Don’t worry. I was going to go down to the station myself and ask them to send someone to get rid of the reporters,” Jinyoung reassured you. He felt his heartbeat thump wildly as he looked at your gently smiling face. Should he say it? Should he talk about the elephant in the room? Even though he hadn’t prepared what to say?
“About… about last night…”
You blinked. “Yeah?”
He sighed. “About your mother. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I know that’s no excuse, but I should have been there and-”
You cut him off with a forced smile. “Jinyoung. It’s okay. It’s not like you could have done anything for her even if you were here, you’re not a doctor. Everyone did the best they could.”
Jinyoung swallowed. “I might not have been able to help her. But… I should have been there for you.”
The smile dropped from your face. What could you say? Jinyoung’s eyes were filled with shame but it wasn’t the right time for him to be offering condolences. That time had long passed.
But you still remembered his words from last night as he’d hugged you. I don’t feel as alone when I’m here. Jinyoung had been through so much. How could you say anything to such a broken man except for it’s okay? How could you offer him anything but comfort when he had nobody but you?
How could you not be the bigger person when he was suffering?
“It’s fine, Jinyoung,” you promised him softly. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“How can I not-”
“Seriously. Please. It’s in the past and nobody was to blame. It happened around the time your company was going public, so I can only imagine how chaotic your life and work must have been back then. I don’t resent you.”
Jinyoung looked up at you in disbelief. “How can you not?”
“I just… don’t. It’s fine.”
“Do you really mean that? Do you really mean that?” he demanded.
“I do,” you insisted firmly. You glanced at your watch and sighed. “Wow, it’s getting late. We have a PTA fundraiser at school tonight so I need to start setting up. Oh! Did you bring my bicycle by any chance?” you asked him hopefully.
Jinyoung shook his head. “Uh, no. The reporters were in front of my house so I slipped out through the back…”
“Can you drop it by the school later? I’m going to staying back pretty late because I have to wrap up after the event is over. It might even take till midnight and the buses stop running at 9 so I need a way to get home. It’s not too much trouble, is it?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll drop it off here later.”
You gave him a small smile as you turned to go back indoors. “Bye, Jinyoung.”
“Bye.”
---------------------------
The PTA fundraiser left you drained of energy.
You would much rather have dealt with a hundred kids at once than with a handful of parents. At least kids could be made to see reason, they could be convinced with a little bit of logic (however flawed). Adults, on the other hand, believed that they knew best and that things had to be done exactly the way they wanted. Adults were unreasonable. Adults liked to throw around their authority.
You had never wanted to get into bed so badly.
You stayed back late to clean up after the fundraiser was over. It wasn’t required of you, but it was something that you somehow ended up volunteering to do. All the other teachers had families to go home to and kids to take care of. You only had an empty apartment.
Asking them to stay back instead of you felt selfish.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged out into the parking lot to see that the bicycle racks were empty. Shit. Had Jinyoung forgotten to leave the bicycle behind for you? Where was he?
You pulled out your cell phone and then sighed. Damn Park Jinyoung. He didn’t even have a stupid phone. It was far past the time that Mr. and Mrs. Park would have gone to bed and you didn't want to wake them by calling them. But your apartment was too far to walk and you would have to pass by the pub; you had no interest in meeting the town’s drunkards alone in those narrow alleys  at midnight.
You sighed and dialled another number.
“Jackson, hey. I’m so sorry, I know you just left a little while ago, but…”
-------------------
It was 1am when you heard a loud banging on your front door.
You had just finished taking a shower and were getting ready to slip into bed when the noise began. Your heartbeat racing, you grabbed hold of a kitchen knife quickly and then slowly approached your door.
“Who’s there?” you yelled out, voice shaking.
The voice that replied was muffled. “Jinyoung!”
Jinyoung? At this time of night?
You opened the door carefully. The first thing that hit you was the awful smell; Jinyoung stank of sweat and cheap beer. His eyes were red and his face flushed as he looked at you almost wildly.
“Are you okay?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders to look at you properly. His hands were trembling and he seemed unaware of how loud his voice was. “Are you all right? I was looking for you everywhere!”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Wow, you’re drunk.”
Jinyoung’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry- I’m so, so, sorry-”
“How about you come inside before you bring my neighbours running over with all of your noise?” you snapped. You had little patience for drunks, and knowing that Jinyoung had been out getting drunk instead of returning your bicycle did not please you. “Where have you been?”
Jinyoung stared at you helplessly, his arms waving around as he spoke. “I-I was just going to get one drink, I swear. But it led to another and I totally forgot about your bike and I was so scared that you might have walked home because I know that path passes by the pub and it’s not safe-”
“Relax,” you told Jinyoung as you guided him gently towards your couch. “I didn't walk. I called Jackson, he drove me home.”
“Jackson? Wang? Why? Are you guys close?” he asked, plopping down heavily on the couch.
You shrugged. “He’s a good friend.”
Jinyoung paused for a moment and then hung his head quietly.
“We used to be good friends.”
You looked down at Jinyoung properly. He was a wreck. His dark hair was a tangled mess and the light blue dress shirt he was wearing was wrinkled with a beer stain on it. There were even large sweat stains under his arms; he’d probably cycled all the way here in a panic.
And he’s one of the Most Eligible Bachelors under 40. If only the magazine had seen him like this.
“We’re still friends,” you told him lightly. “Although it wouldn’t do any harm to return my bicycle when I ask for it. Do you want a glass of water?”
Jinyoung blinked at you dazedly. “Do you have beer?”
“Absolutely not. Haven’t you had enough?”
His lower lip pouted slightly as he stared down at the floor. “I’ve been drinking all evening but I haven’t reached the point where I feel good or forget about my problems yet. In fact, I keep thinking about them even more. How about a cigarette?”
“You will not smoke in my house,” you told him with a firm glare.
To your surprise, Jinyoung suddenly smiled. It was only a gentle curve of his lips but you spotted it and frowned at him with your arms folded across your chest. “Are you feeling proud of yourself right now? Do you think your behaviour is something to laugh about?” you demanded.
Jinyoung looked up at you softly. “No.”
“Then why are you-”
“Because this is the first time you’ve given me that look since I came back,” Jinyoung admitted quietly. His voice trembled. “This is the first time you got angry at me. You don’t seem to get angry at me anymore.”
You didn’t understand. “Why would you want me to be angry at you-”
“Because you have to be angry with someone before you can forgive them. You have to first admit that they hurt you or that they did something wrong, and only then can you begin to repair your relationship,” Jinyoung whispered. He looked up at you and you could see the tears brimming in his eyes. “So tell me honestly. Have you forgiven me already?”
You swallowed. “I was never mad at you to begin with-”
“You’re lying.”
You clenched your fists as your heartbeat thudded. “I’m not lying. You’re drunk. You should drink some water and you can sleep on the couch-”
Jinyoung looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot yet surprisingly clear. “You are lying. Either you’re lying or you’re not the same girl I remember.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because the girl I knew wouldn’t have pretended to forgive a friend to spare his feelings. She would have grabbed me by the shirt, looked me in the eye, and said Park Jinyoung, you’re an absolute bastard for leaving me here when I was having a hard time. She wouldn’t have spared my feelings. She would have expected me to be there for her because that’s what friends do. They count on each other.”
You closed your eyes. How had Jinyoung seen right through you? Even after 10 years, how could he see through you like you were made of glass?
“I’m not angry,” you tried to tell him slowly, even though you weren’t sure who you were convincing anymore. “Because I never expected you to be there. You were busy and I had no expectations-”
Jinyoung scoffed. “You’re lying again.”
“I’m not-”
“You are. Friendship is when you help someone, because you trust that they would do the same for you. What you’re doing for me isn’t friendship. You don’t trust me anymore. If you have no expectations from me, then that’s charity!” Jinyoung spat out. Tears were brimming in his eyes and his voice was choked. “Is that what I am to you? Charity?”
You clenched your fists and let out a small, humourless laugh. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”
“What?”
“Where the fuck do you get off accusing me of treating you like charity? After what you did?” you snapped.
Jinyoung stared at you blankly. “Tell me.”
Your throat closed up. You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to drag yourself back to what had been the lowest point of your life, especially not in front of Jinyoung. You didn’t know who he was to you anymore. How could you open up to him?
“I can’t,” you muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jinyoung.”
“Please,” Jinyoung whispered. “Please. At least tell me I was a terrible friend for not being there. Tell me I was a terrible friend for not even knowing about your mother.”
You took a deep breath and sat down, your knees feeling weak. You had never imagined that you would have to sit next to Jinyoung and say these words to him while he was drunk. Yet, as his dark eyes pierced into yours, he looked more sober than ever.
“It was my fault she died,” you whispered, shakily. “I know how hard my Mom worked to raise me. I know how much she struggled after my Dad passed away. The doctor told me her heart attack was probably caused by stress- years of it. She was growing old but she’d never even gone for a health check-up because we couldn’t afford it.”
Jinyoung stared at you silently.
“I needed someone to say this to back then,” you admitted quietly. “I needed someone who would listen to me and who wouldn’t try to convince me that it wasn’t my fault or that I didn't do anything wrong. That’s what everyone kept doing. They kept trying to comfort me but I just wanted someone who would listen. I wanted you,” you mumbled.
Jinyoung only nodded. His hands reached out to take both of yours. He grasped them tightly.
“I knew you were busy, but I always had this hope that maybe you would come to the funeral,” you whispered. “I thought… surely, whatever I did to make you cut me off, it wasn’t so bad that you wouldn't even turn up to my mother’s funeral. But the truth was that I couldn’t grieve properly because the hospital was hounding me about the bills, I…”
You took a deep breath. You hated thinking about those moments. You had felt so helpless and alone, backed into a corner. “I don’t think it even sank in that my mother was dead until a few days later,” you mumbled. “ I spent the first day wondering how the hell I was going to pay the hospital bills instead of thinking about her. Your mother tried comforting me, she told me it would all be fine and that she would call you for help.”
Jinyoung closed his eyes; tears were clinging to his eyelashes.
“She did,” he mumbled.
You felt the walls around you come crashing down as you looked at the broken man in front of you. You remembered how badly you’d wanted to see him then, how much you’d craved his comfort. You remembered how furious you had been when you realized that Jinyoung had abandoned you.
“I thought you would call,” you mumbled. “I didn’t want to disturb you but at the same time I trusted that you wouldn’t leave me alone at a time like that.”
Jinyoung’s voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”
“It would have been better if you hadn't done anything at all,” you mumbled. “Maybe then I could have forgotten about it in the mess that I was going through. But you didn’t. I got a call from your secretary the night before the funeral.”
Jinyoung lowered his head. His hands were trembling even as they held yours and you could hear his soft sniffle. “Shit,” he muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Shit, I can’t believe-”
“I thought you’d finally called. But it wasn’t you. I had to hear some strange woman tell me over the phone that Park Jinyoung is sorry he can’t make it to the funeral but he sends his condolences,” you choked out. You smiled humorlessly. “As if I was some distance acquaintance you barely knew. You sent me your condolences through your secretary.”
“I didn’t- I didn’t know it was you…”
“And then she told me that if I would just email her a copy of the hospital and funeral bills then all the expenses would be taken care of,” you mumbled. “She said that she could send me as much as I needed, no limit. I was so embarrassed. I wanted-I wanted to tell her that you could go fuck yourself and that I didn’t want your condolences and your money. I wanted to refuse so badly, but…”
You hung your head in shame. “But I couldn’t,” you whispered. “I couldn’t say that to her because it was true. I had no other way of paying those bills. So I sent her the details and I let you pay for them. Whether you know it or not, you paid for all my mother’s hospital bills and funeral while I sat here and wondered how I had become such a worthless daughter.”
Jinyoung’s hands clasped yours so tightly that it hurt. His shoulders were shaking and you could see the sobs racking his chest. “I didn’t mean to-” he sobbed. Jinyoung’s tears landed on your clasped hands. “I didn’t mean to, I swear…”
You slowly removed your hands from his. “I have the accounts,” you muttered. “I’ve been saving up to pay you back. It might take me a few more years but-”
Jinyoung flinched. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s not open to discussion, Jinyoung.”
“Don’t say you’ll pay me back, please-”
“I will pay you back,” you said firmly. You took a deep breath. “You know why? Because I might be able to forgive you for not being there when I needed you. But I will never, never forget how cheap I felt the moment I ended that phone call. So don’t talk to me about charity; I know how it feels to be on the other end of it.”
Jinyoung closed his eyes. He felt light-headed and blank as he thought about everything you’d said. No wonder you didn’t consider him a friend. No wonder you couldn't bring yourself to be honest with him. No wonder there was something fake and forced about your every smile.
Jinyoung hadn’t just messed up.
He had destroyed something precious to him without even realizing it.
“It’s late,” you mumbled after a brief silence. “You should go to sleep. Here, just; make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll get you a blanket and some pillows.”
Jinyoung swallowed. “I-I can’t…”
“You’re not going anywhere at this time of night while you’re drunk,” you told him. You pushed him lightly so that he leaned back against the sofa. “Stay put. I’ll be back. I think we’ve talked enough for tonight.”
“Can you just promise me one thing?” Jinyoung asked quietly.
“What’s that?”
“Even if you don’t consider me your friend anymore, even if you’re just being nice to me because you’re that kind of a caring person… don’t give up on me completely.” Jinyoung looked up at you desperately. “Please. Tell me that I can fix things. Tell me I haven’t broken our friendship and my life beyond repair.”
You looked down at him. Lying on your couch in his crumpled dress shirt and the beer stains, Jinyoung looked pathetic. Perhaps it was because you’d finally let out all the resentment you’d been bottling up for so long. Perhaps it was because, looking into Jinyoung’s eyes now, you could see that he did care. But you suddenly didn’t feel so hollow anymore.
You didn’t feel so lonely in your pain.
“Everything can be fixed, Jinyoung,” you told him softly.
“Even us?” he mumbled.
You nodded. “Even us.”
“Even me?”
“Especially you.”
Jinyoung slowly closed his eyes and you went into the other room to get him a spare pillow and a blanket. He let you place the pillow under his head and snuggled into the soft blanket. You turned to switch off the light when you heard him mumble.
“You know something?”
“What, Jinyoung?”
“I thought that the most unbearable thing about being fired from the company was all the effort I’d put into it. I thought I couldn’t bear it because I’d done so much for it for the years,” he said slowly.
You blinked at his curled up figure under the blanket.
“But it’s not?” you asked.
Jinyoung shook his head. “It’s not how much I’ve done for the company that I can’t bear. It’s how much I sacrificed for it.”
-------------------
191 notes · View notes
leilani-lily · 6 years ago
Text
Lost and Found (ToothxPitch)
.:For @heypapergirl:. 
“London, sector 3, bottom left second molar! Sydney, sector 5, top first incisor!”
The sun was slowly descending on the Tooth Palace, indicating the end of a perfect day. The fading light sparkled against the tiles of pillars hanging high in the mountaintops, the colours reflecting off, creating tiny light rainbows all over the walls. The gold decorations sparkling and giving off a warm glow. Tiny, iridescent fairies were busy at work as always, flitting with either tiny tooth treasures or shiny coins. Thousands flew in and out of the every busy palace, the hustle and bustle never ending. 
In the middle of it all was the Mother herself; the Tooth Fairy. She darted here and there from each fairy, giving commands, gushing over specific teeth or silently scolding certain children for not brushing properly. However, her eyes were bright and alert; feeling completely in her element as new memories flowed into her Kingdom and were safely stored in sparkling cylindrical cases. Toothania couldn’t be more at peace.
A soft yawn escaped her lips as she rubbed her eyes, not realizing how weary she was from such a long day. Baby Tooth instantly noticed her Mother’s sudden fatigue, and zipped up to her right away, chirping like a bird in her ear. Tooth giggled to herself.
“Baby Tooth, I’m honestly ok. I don’t need to rest.” she smiled sweetly to her companion, but the little fairy was having none of it. She gave her a glare as she angrily chirped again, using her tiny hands to try and push Tooth away. As if that would do anything. Tooth openly laughed.
“Alright! Alright!” Tooth snickered, turning towards the tiny fairy, “I’ll just have a quick nap. You’re in charge while I’m gone. And make sure the daytime workers switch with the nighttime ones! If I’m having a break, I want to make sure everyone else gets one too.” 
Baby Tooth gave a small salute, making Toothania beam at her little prodigy.
“What would I do without you?” Tooth smiled, kissing one of her fingers and lightly tapping Baby Tooth’s feathered head. Baby Tooth chittered happily, nuzzling into her finger for a moment before zooming off, determined to make her Mother proud. Tooth sighed happily and fluttered up into the palace towards her room, feeling absolutely high on life and love for her little baby fairies.
Her mind was in a daze as she entered her room, joy filling her heart, but drowsiness clouding her eyes. It was no wonder she had a near heart attack when she realized she was not alone in the room.
“I must say Toothiana, these are really the most luxurious pillows I have ever laid on. You must tell me where you got them.”
Tooth’s tired body instantly snapped awake as she turned to her bed, seeing a long, dark figure casually sprawled on her mattress, surrounded by cushy pillows and blankets. Pitch Black had made himself at home as he admired the patterns on the pillows, not seeming to care at how shell-shocked Tooth was. 
“Persian? Very nice; though I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did seem to like this style, just like your mother-!”
Pitch didn’t even get a chance to finish as Tooth suddenly bolted towards him, screaming a warrior cry as she raised a clenched fist. Pitch practically fell off the bed, getting tangled in the sheets as he narrowly escaped a swing from the fairy. He quickly ducked and dodged each of her blows as she advanced towards him, a yelp of fright occasionally escaping his lips.
“Tooth! Toothania stop this! Too-! Moon above! Would you- Ach! Would you stop this?!”
Feeling his blood begin to boil, he quickly grabbed onto Tooth’s wrists and pushed her backwards until she was on the bed, him pinning her down beneath him. Tooth struggled and squirmed beneath him, grunting and angrily crying out. Pitch rolled his eyes as a wave of black sand shimmered over her mouth, silencing her growls. She continued to squirm, trying to escape his clutches, making him all the more irritated.
“For Moon’s sake Tooth! Will you just stop for a moment and listen to me??”
The look of shock and angered bewilderment on Tooth’s face was almost priceless, but given the certain circumstances, this was no time to laugh. Pitch could tell Tooth had something to say, so he hesitantly commanded the sand away, allowing her to speak.
“And why on Earth would I ever listen to you??” she roared, causing even Pitch to flinch ever so slightly, “After everything you’ve done to me?? My fairies?! What more could you want Pitch?!?”
Pitch’s grip on her wrists tightened, feeling his anger begin to grow. But he knew very bloody well that she spoke nothing but the truth. Eventually, his grip on her weakened ever so slightly. He sighed heavily, finally looking her in the eyes again. Tooth was shocked to see such a serious look on his face. 
“…. I need your help. Please.”
Now Tooth knew for sure something was seriously wrong. Pitch never said please. Ever. She momentarily lost herself in his eyes as they looked so solemnly into hers. She never realized how fascinating his eyes were: golden rimmed with a cool gray, almost like a solar eclipse. She had never seen eyes so intriguing. She quickly shook her head, focusing back to the matter on hand.
“You can’t be serious. Why in Manny’s name would I ever help you? I should tie you up right now and throw you to my fairies. They would be more than happy to have their revenge on you.”
A smirk slowly grew on Pitch’s face as his eyelids lowered.
“Hmmm. Yes. You would like to see me tied up now, wouldn’t you~?”
Tooth’s face suddenly erupted in heat, her cheeks turning bright red against her pale skin. Suddenly realizing the position she was in, she felt her face grow even hotter and all the more embarrassed. She began to squirm again under his clutches, not noticing the smile of amusement growing on Pitch’s face. 
“Toothania! You’re so flushed! My my, are you thinking naughty thoughts?”
Tooth’s heart kept into her throat at those words as she struggled more. She looked up angrily at the shadowed man, trying to keep her composure but finding it rather difficult.
“Get off of me.”
“Hmmmm. No, I think not. This is far too amusing to pass up.” Pitch was practically giddy as he leaned in closer, making her even more shy. Her eyes flashed with anger.
“Pitch-!”
“Fine, fine, I’ll get up.” Pitch finally drawled, making Tooth breath a sigh of relief. But Pitch’s grip tightened, his face suddenly growing very serious once again. “But only if you promise to help me.” 
Tooth groaned in irritation. How could she possibly help him? What could he possibly want from her? She continued to struggle, but she found herself trapped underneath him. It seemed she didn’t have much choice. She gave him a sideways glance, still not trusting him.
“If this effects the children in any way, or harms anyone I love-!”
“No. Nothing like that. I promise no harm will come to you, or your precious fairies or Guardians, or, heaven forbid, the children.” Pitch almost gagged on that last point, but made sure to keep his composure. 
“Once this is over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise…. I would cross my heart or even go as low as to pinky swear if it made you feel any better, but, as you can see…” His eyes flickered to his hands holding onto Tooth’s wrists, then back to her eyes, “My hands are a little full at the moment.”
Tooth gave him a long, hard stare. She had gotten very good at being able to tell whether someone was lying or not. Children often lied about whether they had brushed or flossed their teeth, and after centuries of being occasionally lied to, as innocent of a lie it was, she had gotten rather good at revealing the truth from someone. Pitch was still staring at her, the smallest of playful smirks on his face. But as she continued her glare, his smile slowly fell, and a look of pain replaced it.
“Tooth…” he almost whispered, making Tooth’s eyes widen in surprise, “… You’re the only one who can help me… Please.” 
The sorrow in his eyes baffled Tooth completely. She had never expected to actually feel… sorry for Pitch. Whatever this request was; it certainly meant a lot to him, more than his lifelong goal of creating a new Dark Age. Something personal. And she knew, without a doubt, he was not lying. 
After a long hard stare, Tooth finally gave a sigh of defeat and nodded her head. Pitch seemed surprised she said yes, because a look shock and hope suddenly filled his face; a look Tooth wasn’t used to seeing on the dark man. Pitch, realizing he was showing his emotions, quickly shook his head and grunted in irritation, finally removing himself from the feathered female. Tooth immediately jumped to her feet, feeling relieved from finally being freed and out of that embarrassing situation. After quickly composing herself and smoothing down her feathers, she turned to the Boogeyman.
“Alright Pitch,” she stated, “What is it you so desperately need help with?” 
Pitch slipped a hand into his dark robe, making Tooth realize there was a hidden pocket in his clothing. Curiosity was getting the better of her. When he pulled it out, he opened his hand and looked at it, and a tiny, fond smile spread on his face. Finally looking at Tooth once again, an amused smirk rose.
“I believe you might remember this little souvenir.”
Laying in the palm of his hand was a white, pearly molar. Of all the things Tooth was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. 
“That morning… on the lake…” She whispered, remembering that fateful battle years ago. When she had decked him right on the jaw before he disappeared in the night. The tooth that she knocked out of him…
She snorted.
Pitch looked on unamusingly as she tried to cover her laughter. She couldn’t help but snicker a little bit; it was one of her most fulfilling memories. She had never been so satisfied. And the look on his face was just the icing on the cake.
“Alright yes yes, laugh it up.” Pitch sighed, “Please, do continue to laugh at one of the most humiliating moments of my life. It doesn’t hurt me at all, I swear.” 
Tooth’s giggles simmered down as she wiped an eye, clearing her throat as she collected herself. Finally taking a breath, she fluttered closer to him to look at the tooth in more detail.
It was his bottom, second molar to the left, and Tooth was surprised to see how clean it was. Not a cavity or chip in sight. Not only that, but it seemed polished; as if it was a rare jewel. No dust nor dirt to be seen. It seemed like Pitch had taken good care of it. Tooth wondered how many night’s he spent studying the molar, keeping it close to him almost like a sacred treasure. 
… But why?
“You’re probably wondering why I still have this,” Pitch began, jolting Tooth out of her deep thoughts. After a solemn pause, the dark man continued. 
“… I wasn’t joking when I said Frost and I had a lot in common. Being all alone, not being believed in by anyone… and not knowing who we used to be.” Tooth found her heart sinking as the spirit spoke, guilt seeping into her bones. She thought about Jack, about how tortured the poor boy was and how awful she felt for him after hearing his story. She never fully realized that, in another life, Pitch was just like him; young, alone, confused, and afraid.
“… I don’t remember the man I used to be… Whether I had a life before this or not, if maybe I was a better man than I am now… I have no idea where my baby teeth have gone; probably turned to dust at this point.” Pitch paused, looking down at the little bone in his hand, “But this… This could be the key to something. A memory locked away in my mind that can only be opened with your help.”
Pitch looked up at Toothania once again, and she had to catch her breath at the look on his face. So full of sorrow, yet the spark of hope that shone in his eyes made her stop breathing for a moment. 
“I don’t know whether this will work or not… but if there’s a chance, I want to know. Toothiana… Help me to remember who I used to be.” 
A shiver ran down Tooth’s feathered body as the dark figure; the man she had fought for centuries and hated all her life, was basically pleading on his knees for her help. It was such a strange situation to be in. Her mind was screaming for her to refuse; to yell and scream and hurt him, especially after everything he had done to her. She should be furious.
And yet…
Her kind, giving heart. A heart that would leap at the chance to help someone remember precious memories. A heart so motherly, loving, and protective over anyone who seems to be suffering. A heart that, no matter what, would do anything for the sake of others… even if they had wronged her. 
Silence hung in the air as the two figures stood still, each looking at the little pearl in Pitch’s palm. Finally, Tooth reached out and gently took the molar, inspecting it more up close before finally looking at Pitch. He straightened up and looked at her, determination in his eyes.
“… Are you ready?” she spoke. Sometimes seeing the memories tied to a tooth wasn’t always easy. Most were good, some not so much. She had to make sure he was prepared for whatever the outcome.
Without even a second thought, Pitch gave a quick nod of his head, as if he had rehearsed it. It seemed like he had preparing for this moment for a long time, and Tooth knew that he was going to go through with it. That being said, she reached out her free hand and slipped it into Pitch’s long, cold palm. Too busy concentrating on the task ahead, she didn’t notice the startled look on Pitch’s face or the embarrassed grunt as he averted his now slightly flushed face. She closed her eyes and relaxed her body, focusing all of her energy on the tooth and Pitch’s hand.
“Let your mind relax,” Toothania breathed, bringing the loose molar up to Pitch’s forehead and pressing the tiny bone up to his head, “Try to think back on the past, as far as you can remember. Delve deep into you subconscious, let memories of the past flow forward.”
A blinding light started to shimmer from the tooth, growing brighter and brighter with each passing second. In a moment, all was white around them, and Pitch found himself scrunching his eyes closed tight against the intense light. Finally adjusting to the new brightness, the Boogeyman slowly opened his eyes and gasped softly as colourful images played before him. Tooth, still holding his hand and holding the tooth to his head, looked around the white abyss as well, watching reels of Pitch’s past float around them, like little bubbles floating by on a summer’s breeze. 
A royal family of Lunar people. Pitch smiling in a general’s outfit covered with shining medallions. A woman with long, dark hair and a kind smile. A little girl with that same smile and Pitch’s eyes. Darkling’s surrounding them both, but the little girl barely escaping. Pitch trying to save them, but then being surrounded and consumed by the darkness…
… A little girl, alone and crying on a shooting star.
Tooth watched each memory come and go, amazed by such a story. It was like nothing she had ever seen. She knew Pitch spoke of having a dark past, but this? This was much worse than what she could have ever expected. No wonder he was the way he was…
Pitch could hardly breath as these memories flashed before him, like tiny pieces of a puzzle slowly fitting together into a tragic backstory. He felt his lungs squeeze in on himself as he remembered, tears falling freely as he remembered everything that had happened. He couldn’t breathe, it was like he was drowning, deeper and deeper into the blue. He thought he was ready for whatever may come his way. But not this. 
“S-Stop it.” He barely whispered, making Tooth quickly turn back to him, “P-please… make it stop.”
Tooth didn’t need to be told twice. In an instant, she removed the molar from Pitch’s forehead, making the white room and memories softly melt and fade away, eventually leaving the pair back in Tooth’s bedroom. A heavy silence hung in the air, both too afraid to even move or speak. 
Finally, Pitch felt his legs give out beneath him as he fell to his knees, the tears never seeming to stop from pouring down his face. He made no sounds, no cries or moans of anguish. He simply knelt there, the tears flowing like a never-ending waterfall. Tooth stood looking over him a moment, still shocked at what she saw, and not sure what to even say to him.
“I… I had a family.”
It was barely a whisper, but as soon as she heard those words, Tooth immediately stooped down to his level, safely placing a reassuring hand on Pitch’s shoulder. He flinched at the contact at first, but relaxed under her warm hand. He didn’t look at her; he simply stared ahead; his mind clearly in another world. She kept his eyes locked on him.
“I… was a warrior hero… I…. I had a wife and-!” Pitch’s voice broke, “My beautiful daughter…”
This was too much, even for Tooth. She knew what it was like to lose someone special. Her own parents were taken from her far too quickly. She knew exactly what Pitch was feeling. Boogeyman or not, she knew what she had to do. She did to him what she had needed all those years ago when she found out of her parent’s passing.
She leaned forward and brought Pitch into a hug. 
Pitch’s lean body was extremely stiff against her own soft curves; he clearly wasn’t use to this kind of affection, which made Tooth’s heart break even more. But finally, the man’s long back finally curled up unto her, loosening with each passing second. He never lifted his own hands to reciprocate the hug, but he pressed his head against her shoulder, leaning against her so much she was afraid she would topple over. She felt her heart rate quicken as he melted into her touch, but she immediately pushed it away, trying to soothe the pained creature before her.
Minutes passed between the two until finally, Pitch lifted himself until his back was straight again. His eyes were still damp, and slightly red, but he seemed to have calmed a little as he finally looked at Toothania straight in the eye. His eye’s were still like a solar solstice, but Tooth could have sworn the gold hidden between the grey was slightly brighter; more coloured. 
“My daughter…” Pitch finally breathed, “My sweet Emily Jane… She’s still alive…” A broken, single laugh escaped his mouth, which he quickly covered with his hand, but the smallest of smiles still remained on his lips. Tooth gave a sympathetic smile and nodded, trying to encourage the shadowed man. The two sat in silence again as both thought to themselves, reflecting on the night and its events.
Finally, Pitch rose to his feet, making Tooth look up curiously at him and his sudden change of behaviour. Mere minutes ago he looked like the most broken man she had ever seen. But now. Now there was a glimmer in his eye, his mouth set in a determined line as he took a deep breath and stood tall.
“I have to find her. I have to know what happened to her.”
He continued to look forward for a moment before looking down at Tooth. The sudden head swivel made Tooth jump ever so slightly, but she looked up at him awestruck. Suddenly, a small, peaceful smile grew on Pitch’s face as he offered her his hand. Her fluttery heart once again leapt into her chest as she accepted his assistance, placing her tiny bird hand into his own strong one. In one fowl swoop, he gently helped lift her to her feet, both eyes locked on each other. 
“Tooth, I-!” Pitch hesitated for a moment, “I never thought I had a real purpose in this world. But you just helped me realize that there’s still something out there for me. That I’m…” not completely alone? “That I’m still around for a reason… And it’s all thanks to you.” Pitch’s free now rested on top of Tooth’s hand, now sandwiched between both of his grey ones. Tooth’s eyes flickered from his hands to his face, feeling some heat beginning to warm her cheeks. 
“… Thank you, Toothiana, Queen of Flight. You have my deepest gratitude.”
And with that, the shadowed man sunk to the floor, a mass of black sand shifting and swerving along the floor, up the wall, and flying out into the setting sun, leaving Tooth completely alone, as if it had never even happened. 
Tooth stood, dumbfound, trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened. As her mind finally processed everything, the smallest of smiles crept up her face, her eyelids finally relaxing and drawing heavy. What an eventful night it had been; so many different emotions skirting here and there. From anger to peace to sorrow to hopeful. At least it had a somewhat happy ending. Or at least, Tooth thought so.
She still couldn’t believe Pitch had such a past. She still despised everything that he had done to her friends and fairies, but now… not everything seemed so black and white. Some of it was beginning to meld into different shades of grey; just like the shadowed man himself. Maybe he wasn’t so black and white. Maybe he was just a shade of grey himself; maybe Tooth needed to look him over once again before finally deciding who he truly was. An enemy? A loving father? A good man?
A small smile crept up her mouth as she shook her head. She was too tired to think of this any further. She was tired even before all of this craziness had happened; now she was utterly exhausted. Finally beat from such a day, she fluttered to her bed and flopped on her many pillows, sighing happily as she snuggled into the comfort of her sacred haven. She couldn’t help but giggle tiredly to herself as she felt her eyelids grow heavy.
They really were the most luxurious pillows ever. 
HELLO HI I’M SORRY THIS IS LATE BUT @heypapergirl SURPRISE I’M YOUR SANTA BEOTCH
I hope this is what you were looking for!! I had so much fun with this prompt ^^ Sorry its long? I got carried away?? And sorry if there’s any spelling errors, didn’t have time to edit ;A;  Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!! :D  @rotgsecretsanta
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arysafics · 6 years ago
Text
Now I’m Addicted
Chapter Eight
Normally, Clarke really looks forward to getting away to the beach for a weekend, just her and Wells. This year, the thought makes her queasy.
Clarke had been partly relieved to move make home with Wells. Living in a hotel had kind of sucked, and living alone was even worse. She still doesn’t know if she made the right decision. But she promised him she’d try, so she’s going to try.
And yes, it’s Bellamy she really wants, and not Wells. But she can’t have Bellamy. Bellamy doesn’t want her, and Wells does. So maybe she’s settling for second best, but it’s better than being alone for the rest of her life.
Despite her best intentions, and the fact that she really is trying, she’s not ready to go away with Wells alone. She’s worried the trip will just magnify all the holes in their relationship, before they’ve had a chance to really fix them. She doesn’t want to cancel the trip completely, so she suggests inviting a few other people to join them. Wells agrees surprisingly easily. Actually, he’s been very accommodating the past couple of weeks, almost like he’s walking on eggshells around her, afraid she’ll up and run again. But the truth is he doesn’t really have anything to worry about. Now that Clarke knows she has no shot with Bellamy, she has no reason to leave him. She wishes there was some way to prove that to him, so they can get start getting back to normal.
The beach house is huge, and Clarke thinks it’s probably worth a hell of a lot of money if Wells ever decides to sell it. Thelonius Jaha had left most of his money to charity when he died, but he left Wells the beach house. Not to sound selfish, but if Clarke’s mom does that, she’s going to be super pissed.
Clarke invites Octavia and Raven, and they both decide they’re bringing their partners. Monty and Harper can’t make it, and Jasper and Miller don’t want to hang around a bunch of couples for the whole weekend. So Clarke figures it’s going to be six people in the five bedroom house, with each couple getting their own bathroom. She’s actually looking forward to it.
But then she gets a call from Bellamy. She’s on the train home from work, and she almost drops her phone when she sees his name pop up. She dithers for a moment, her heart pounding, before she finally decides to answer.
“Hi,” she says, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“Clarke,” he says, and the sound of her name on his tongue makes her knees go weak.
“What’s up?” she asks him. He’s obviously calling for a reason. And that reason is probably not to tell her how madly in love with her he is, however many times she’s envisioned that scenario in her mind’s eye.
“Uh, well…” he starts. “Octavia asked me if I wanted to come to the beach with you guys this weekend.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, I figured I should check if it was okay with you first.”
“You really want to come?” Clarke asks. She kind of figured he was avoiding her.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Bellamy says. “I could really do with a vacation,” he laughs. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, her stomach twisting at the familiar sound of his laugh. How had she not figured out sooner that she was in love with him?
“Of course it’s fine,” Clarke says, because why wouldn’t it be? They aren’t sleeping together anymore, so they don’t have to worry about Wells. As far as either of them are concerned, they’re just distant friends. Or acquaintances maybe.
“Great,” Bellamy says. “Is it okay if I bring someone?”
Clarke hesitates, probably too long. “Sure,” she says quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed her hesitation. No, she doesn’t want him to bring his girlfriend, and no, she doesn’t want to think about what it means that he’s only been dating Echo barely a month and yet he’s bringing her on a weekend away with all their friends.
“Okay. I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“Okay,” Clarke swallows. “See you then.”
  The prospect of seeing Bellamy scares Clarke to death. She hasn’t seen him since A: she realised she was in love with him, and B: he broke her fucking heart. So yeah, she’s a little nervous to say the least.  
Wells doesn’t seem to notice, though she’s mostly silent on the drive to the beach house. Or perhaps he’s just letting her have her space. Either way, she’s glad he’s not questioning her about it. There’s only so many times a person can use the excuse I’m just tired before it starts to seem like a lie.
Clarke and Wells get there first and claim the master bedroom. Clarke unpacks her suitcase into the wardrobe, to keep herself busy. The task doesn’t really keep her mind off Bellamy though, and she keeps listening for a car in the driveway, her heart pounding rapidly.
Octavia, Niylah, Raven, and Shaw arrive together, and Clarke finally has a suitable distraction from her thoughts, as she’d introduced properly to Niylah for the first time, and Raven and Octavia start telling a story about The Worst Driver in the World they encountered on their way here.
She’s so caught up in Octavia’s theatrics, she doesn’t even notice at first when Bellamy and Echo walk in the front door. That is until Octavia cuts herself off midsentence to greet her brother.
“Hey, you made it!” she says, walking over and giving him a hug. Clarke freezes, her heart suddenly lodged in her throat. Bellamy’s eyes seem to scan over the group until they land on Clarke. She smiles weakly, feeling like a nervous wreck. Fucking hell, he looks so good. And if in the back of her mind she’d harboured some doubt about whether or not she’s actually in love with him, that vanishes when he smiles back at her, and her heart squeezes itself so tight she can’t breathe. Not only that, but he pussy starts to throb, as if it can sense he’s close. Yeah, letting him come here was a huge mistake.
“Bellamy,” Wells says, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Oops. She may have forgotten to tell Wells. Or rather, purposefully not told him because it was too hard to even say Bellamy’s name out loud.
“I did ask Clarke if it was okay,” he mentions.
“He did,” Clarke manages, finding her voice. “I guess I forgot to tell you.”
“All good, I guess. You’re here now. And who is this?” Wells nods to the tall brunette standing next to Bellamy. Clarke hates her on sight. With one glance at Octavia, Clarke can tell she isn’t impressed with the arrival of Echo either.
“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Echo,” Bellamy introduces. “Echo, this is… everyone.”
Hearing Bellamy call Echo his girlfriend sends a dagger through Clarke’s heart. And it’s not like she hadn’t known she was his girlfriend. But hearing him actually say it out loud is something else entirely.
“Girlfriend, huh, Blake?” Raven teases. “Seems like someone is finally settling down.”
Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Give it a rest, Raven. We’ve only been dating a month.”
“Only a month and she’s already your girlfriend though,” Raven continues. She turns to Echo. “I guess you’re the one to finally tame the wild beast,” she winks.
Echo smirks. “We’ll see,” she says, glancing at Bellamy flirtatiously. Bellamy looks a little uncomfortable by the whole exchange. Clarke wants to throw up.
“Who wants alcohol?” she announces, heading for the kitchen where Wells had stocked the fridge with beer and cider earlier.
They all end up in the outdoor area out the back of the house, drinks in hand and an array of finger foods on the table in front of them. Echo is sitting in Bellamy’s lap, playing with his hair, laughing too hard at his jokes. Clarke tries to keep her eyes averted, but she burns with jealousy. She wants to be the one sitting in his lap and playing with his hair, feeling his hard cock pressing into her, teasing him until he can’t think straight. She also wants to kick Echo in the face. Instead, she tightens her grip on her bottle of cider and snuggles into Wells’ side. It’s not because she’s trying to make Bellamy jealous. She’s not dumb enough to think he would even care. But she doesn’t want him to know how much she’s affected by his new relationship. So she’s a little more affectionate with Wells than she normally is. The alcohol probably helps.
“Who wants to play a drinking game?” Octavia asks.
“I’m in,” Raven says. “What are we playing?”
“You know, I think I’m a little old for drinking games,” Bellamy grimaces. He looks to Echo. “You want to go to bed?”
“You know I do,” Echo says, leaning in to kiss him.
“Gross,” Octavia says, voicing Clarke’s thoughts for her. “We won’t miss you.”
“Hey, you invited me,” Bellamy reminds her as he and Echo stand up. Clarke watches them head inside, hand in hand. To her surprise, Bellamy glances back for a moment and meets her eyes. She quickly looks away, pressing a kiss to Wells’ cheek. Overcompensating maybe. When she looks back to Bellamy, he’s gone.
“Clarke? Wells? You want to play?” Octavia asks.
“I actually think maybe we should go to bed too,” Clarke says. Somehow the thought of Bellamy and Echo alone in their room is worse than actually being able to see them together, and Clarke feels totally sober all of a sudden.
“Sounds good to me,” Wells grins. “See you guys in the morning.”
“Party poopers!” Raven calls after them as they go back inside.
Despite what Wells might think, Clarke’s intentions are just to go straight to sleep. Only, once she’s in her pyjamas, and under the covers, she begins to hear… noises through the wall. More specifically, the sound of Echo moaning like a mad woman.
Clarke groans, putting her pillow over her face as Wells gets into bed beside her.
“God, I hope we don’t have to listen to that all night,” he says. “Surely he can’t be that good in bed?”
Clarke knows for a fact that he is that good. Although Echo does sound completely ridiculous moaning like that. Clarke likes to think her own moans are much sexier. She does realise that even though she can hear Echo quite clearly, she can’t really hear Bellamy at all. She takes some satisfaction in the notion that maybe he’s not having as much fun with Echo as he did with Clarke.
Clarke turns over on her side to face Wells. “Fuck me,” she commands him.
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“Are you actually turned on by that?” Wells snorts.
“I just think we can outdo them.”
“Clarke, you’re not that loud in bed. I don’t think you can outdo Echo,” Wells rolls his eyes. “You know, that name actually suits her come to think of it.”
Clarke snorts. As much as she’d like to hang shit on Echo and her ridiculous name for the rest of the night, what she really wants is to get fucked. “I can be loud,” Clarke tells him. “Watch me.”
Wells doesn’t need to be told twice. And okay, pretty much all of Clarke’s noises are fake. But she’s pretty sure a lot of Echo’s are too. Sure, Bellamy is great in bed, but Echo sounds like she’s literally being murdered in the next room.
Clarke pretends to come when Wells comes, but even then, they can still hear Echo through the walls.
“How are they still going?” Wells asks incredulously. Clarke rolls her eyes.
“Let’s just go to sleep now, okay?” she huffs. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries to drown out the sounds of Echo.
  Clarke is awake early the next morning, long before anyone else will be up. Wells is still snoring softly next to her. It’s already warming up outside, and Clarke decides to take advantage of the solitude and go for a walk along the beach. She dresses in a pair of short shorts and a tank top and heads downstairs, stopping in the kitchen to grab a glass of water before she goes.
As she fills her glass at the sink, she looks out the kitchen window to see Bellamy lounging in the hammock on the front porch, reading, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that Clarke swears are almost as tiny as her own. God, he’s so fucking sexy.
She lets herself watch him, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reads. She smiles to herself, her heart soft for him. So he has a girlfriend. She can still be in love with him and be his friend, right? It’s totally possible.
She puts down her glass and walks out onto the front porch. Bellamy looks up as the door slams behind her. He sits up, closing his book. His eyes rake over her body, lingering on her tits. She feels her clit twinge. So it’s not that he’s not attracted to her then.
“Hey,” she says. “I’m just going for a walk along the beach. Do you want to come?”
Bellamy considers. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees. He swings himself off the hammock, more gracefully than what Clarke would ever be able to manage, and follows her down the front steps.
They walk in silence towards the beach, Clarke with her hands in her back pockets for lack of something better to do with them. Because what she really wants to do is slip her hand into his. Or maybe just grab his face and kiss him.
It’s a five-minute walk until they reach the ocean, and it’s cooler out in the open air, and a little windy. The breeze blows through Bellamy’s already tousled locks, making him look like he’s in a beach themed photoshoot.
“So, uh, you and Echo, huh?” Clarke says. Why, she has no idea. She does not want to hear Bellamy gush about his girlfriend. “Seems like things are going well. If what I heard last night is anything to go by.”
Bellamy snorts. “You heard that, huh?”
“How could I not?”
“I will admit she’s a little over the top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was faking it sometimes,” Bellamy admits.
“And how do you know better?”
Bellamy smirks. “Come on, Clarke. Don’t pretend like I didn’t make you come over and over and over.”
Clarke shivers. Fucking hell, does he have to make her want him so bad? “So we’re talking about that are we?”
Bellamy shrugs. “We don’t have to. How are things going with Wells, now that you’re…?”
“Back together?” Clarke finishes for him. Bellamy stops, staring at her. His jaw ticks.
“Back together?” he repeats. Clarke’s eyes widen as she realises what she’s said. “I was going to say monogamous.” Bellamy swallows. “You and Wells broke up? When? I mean… Octavia never said—”
“She doesn’t know,” Clarke says quickly. Her face burns. “I didn’t tell anyone. So please don’t mention it. No one knows.”
“Okay,” Bellamy nods. He seems unable to look at her now. They continue walking.
“It was right after… you ended things with me. And it was only for like a week. I guess I just wanted to see if being with Wells was what I really wanted,” Clarke shrugs.
Bellamy turns his head towards her sharply, his eyes piercing into her. “And it is, then?”
Clarke swallows. “Yes.”
An uncomfortable silence follows. Clarke isn’t sure why. All she knows is she’s completely on edge, half of her desperate to confess everything to him, the other half desperate to hold onto her pride. The prideful side of her wins out.
“You want to go swimming?” she says. Anything to break the silence.
“What?”
“The water looks so nice,” Clarke continues. She tilts her head at him, waiting to see if he’s coming.
“I think I’ll pass,” he says. Clarke shrugs, as if to say suit yourself, and then she pulls her tank top over her head and her shorts over her ass. She can feel him watching her strip down to her underwear, and she’s totally not doing this to get a reaction from him, but if it turns him on too then she’s not complaining.
She looks back over her shoulder as she heads towards the water. He’s still watching her. She can’t help a smirk from spreading across her face.
The water is freezing, but Clarke forces herself to wade in anyway. She reaches her waist then dives under the water. She breaks the surface again, gasping from the cold, flicking her hair out of her eyes. She stands up, the water just reaching her breasts.  
“Come on!” she yells to Bellamy. “It’s not cold, I swear!”
“You’re lying!” he yells back, but he’s very clearly smiling.
“Don’t be such a chicken!”
Bellamy shakes his head, laughing. But then he’s walking towards her and into the water.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bellamy swears as he gets deeper. “It’s fucking freezing, Clarke!”
“It’s not that bad!”
He dives under the water and surfaces half a metre from her. “You’re insane,” he tells her.
“Yet you followed me anyway.”
“You’re too persuasive.”
Clarke pokes her tongue out, and then splashes him. Bellamy raises an eyebrow, smirking.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Griffin,” he challenges, stepping towards her.
“Oh, what are you going to do?” she teases. He lunges for her and she turns away, trying to escape his grasp half-heartedly, but he grabs her around the waist, pulling her back flush against his chest.
“No, don’t!” she squeals, laughing.
“Do you surrender?” he asks, lips against her ear. Clarke squirms, trying not to think about his wet skin against hers. But it feels like he’s touching her everywhere, and her head swims and her cunt pulses with need. She wonders if he’s hard right now, but she doesn’t dare make a move to find out.
“I surrender,” she tells him, and he lets her go. She turns around, but she doesn’t put any distance between them. His eyes flick to her lips and she wills him to kiss her.
“Clarke,” he says hoarsely. “I really want to kiss you.”
“So kiss me,” she murmurs.
Bellamy shakes his head. “I have a girlfriend, Clarke. I’m not going to cheat on her.” Right, Echo. “We should head back,” Bellamy sighs, stepping away from her. Disappointed, but knowing it’s better this way, Clarke follows him back up to the sand. She grabs her clothes from the ground but doesn’t put them back on yet.
“We should wash the salt and sand off before we go,” Clarke says, nodding her head towards the public bathroom by the carpark. There’s an outdoor shower around the side of the brick building. Clarke gets under first, and the water is cold but not as cold as the ocean. She closes her eyes to let the water fall over her face, and opens them to find Bellamy looking at her strangely.
“What?” she asks.
“You know your underwear is totally see-through right now, right?”
Clarke had not known, but when she looks down now, she can see that he’s right. The white material of her bra and panties clings to her, the water having turned them so transparent it’s like she isn’t wearing anything at all.
“Oh,” she says. “You’re right.” She looks back up at him. “You waited a long time to tell me that,” she points out. He must have noticed as soon as they got out of the water. And he definitely hasn’t been not looking at her.
Bellamy flushes. “Clarke—”
“I guess there’s no point in wearing them at all then,” Clarke shrugs. She reaches behind her to unclasp her bra and lets it fall from her chest. Then she peels off her panties and throws them to the side where her shorts and tank top sit.
“Fucking hell, Clarke,” Bellamy groans, shaking his head.
“We’re wasting water,” Clarke says, she reaches out and grabs his arm, tugging him into the shower with her. He’s stronger than her, he could resist easily, if he wanted to. He doesn’t.
He doesn’t move to touch her, but he’s so close that her nipples brush his chest, and he’s looking down at her with dark eyes, filled with want.
“Why are you like this?” he asks. Is that an insult or a compliment?
“Like what?”
“Irresistible,” he murmurs. His hands come to rest of her waist, and then he leans down, capturing her lips between his. Clarke whimpers as she closes her eyes, her arms circling around his neck. The water shuts off automatically, but Clarke barely notices. Bellamy presses her against the brick wall behind her, crushing her tits against his chest. He’s kissing her like his life depends on it, desperate and messy, like he’s trying to remind her she’s alive. She’d almost forgotten what it’s like to be kissed by him, and now that she remembers she doesn’t ever want him to stop again. She needs him to remind her how it feels to be fucked, really fucked. She wants him to fill her throbbing cunt with his cock, and come with him deep inside her.
“Bell, fuck me,” she moans. “I need you, I need you.”
“You need me, huh?” he says. “You need your pussy filled? You need my cock inside you?”
“Yes. Please. Please.”
“Of course you do, baby,” he murmurs, slipping a hand between her legs. “Bet you missed being fucked properly, didn’t you?”
“Uh huh,” Clarke nods as Bellamy plays with her clit. “I missed you so much.”
“Missed me? Or missed my cock?” He pushes two fingers inside her and she gasps.
“Both,” she moans. She tugs at his shorts, and he helps her pull them down to free his cock. “Oh god,” she groans. “I forgot how big it is. I need it inside me.”
“I know, baby, I know,” Bellamy coos. He kisses her again, gripping her ass, hoisting her up so she can wrap her legs around him.  He presses the bulging head of his cock against her entrance, and then he’s pushing inside her, stretching her pussy good and wide. Clarke almost comes right then.
Her back is against the bricks, and she clutches his back as he thrusts into her.
“Yes,” she gasps. “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me, fuck me.”
Bellamy moans and the sound sends shockwaves through her. He drives into her over and over, the pressure building inside her. She needs to come so bad, and she’s right there on the edge. I love you, she thinks. I love you, I love you. And it would be so easy to let it slip off her tongue right now, in this moment of bliss. But instead she just cries his name as she comes, her walls clenching around him as she comes all over his cock.
“Come inside me,” Clarke moans as he continues fucking her against the wall. “I need your come in me.”
“Anything you want,” Bellamy groans, letting his seed spill inside her, filling her up with his come. It leaks out of her as he pulls his cock out of her and lets her back onto the ground. Bellamy steps back, pulling his shorts back up, not bothering to clean himself up. She wonders if he’s feeling guilty. He grabs her clothes and hands them to her, and Clarke quickly puts her wet underwear back on and then her shorts and top. Bellamy looks away, as if he hadn’t just had his hands all over her naked body.
“Are you okay?” Clarke asks.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” Bellamy nods.
“What about Echo?”
Bellamy considers. “She doesn’t have to know.”
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acabloe · 6 years ago
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Soon Goodbye, Now Love: chapter six
new ppl who r just seeing this it’s a guardian angel A/U
find all the parts here ☟
Ao3   ff.net
tw’s: swearing, mentions of depression and anxiety, loss of memory
still based on this song lol
here is the moodboard for ambience purposes if you’re that kind of kid
a/n: its been very long yada yada please just tell me if you want the next chapter because im stuck in au land, if you would prefer a Jane Austin au literally ill drop everything 
once the lights go out
Higher City, Angel Habitat/Complex - 2:45 AM
Half an hour post-transportation and five hours after Chloe’s accident.
Beca stumbled on her footing as she grasped around the edge of the doorframe, looking for a switch or a pull to shed light into the pitch-black space that expanded beyond the doors of her residence for the next who-knew-how-long.
Her neck whined in an aggravating crick from sitting hunched over Chloe’s bedside for so long and her mind was mushed from the weight of stress, overtiredness, excessive adrenaline usage and above all else, of course--grief. The only thing keeping her from collapsing on the ground in the doorway of this small concrete hallway and weeping herself to sleep was the sentence she continued to recite to herself repetitively under her breath: “Chloe’s alive, everyone’s safe, you’ll be okay.”
She far from even entertained the possibility that the last part was rest assured, but the act of mouthing it repetitively had a numbing effect on her currently fragile mental stamina.
After fumbling for a few seconds, she huffed in exasperation and gave up trying to find a switch. Sleep was the only thing she had the brains to carry out. Deliberation over everything else that had transpired in the past four hours would be performed when her brain was a just little further away from falling apart.
The man at the front desk of the grey building had given her a small but heavy and lumpy grey drawstring rucksack before dropping her off alone in the dingy hall of her new quarters. She set it down by her feet now, using it to prop open the thick black door to let as much light into the room as possible.
Hands outstretched, she shuffled inside and waited until her eyes adapted to the murky black interior. It took a few seconds but eventually the slight outlines of shapes faded into view and she finally spotted what she assumed was a thin standing-lamp in the corner. She stepped blindly towards it and jumped backwards a little when it suddenly flickered on, sensing her hand in the air a few inches before it.
The space was little more than a closet. Beca had little mind to care, too exhausted to be grumpy. Besides, it was pretty comfortable considering her own size. The walls and ceiling were simply white-washed cement and there was a foot by foot square to serve as a window at the farthest wall from the door, though it had little to no effect at this time of the night. She wondered briefly about the concept of daylight here and if there even was sun or moonlight. The sparse furniture was a bed, an old wooden sea-trunk, and a tiny porcelain sink in the corner. Beca placed her rucksack in the trunk and sank onto the stiff but not wholly uncomfortable pallet, lacking any sufficient drive in her to take anything off, including her shoes, or even get under the soft linen sheets. Her eyes fell shut and the relief of deep sleep ebbed impending in her mind’s eye.
Yet her head pounded and her heart still fluttered at a sickening pace under her ribs. She found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes closed; the image of Chloe, pale and fragile in such a battered state after the accident, had etched itself clearly behind her eyelids. Her breathing was difficult to regulate (she was unsure if this was due to her thinking so deeply on the act of regulating it, or an actual physical anxious reaction) and the room was uncomfortably cold.
She brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly. Everything was gone. Everything she and those she loved had worked so hard to build from so little was over and erased without trace. She had trudged heavily from wholly miserable to the happiest she had ever been without ease and certainly not in good time. All of that happiness. Up and gone like passing something eye-catching for its possible beauty in the sand on the beach, but upon running back to find it, its existence is nothing more than imagined.
A distinct memory faded into view. It was more of a moving image (a gif, so to speak) than a memory, but she could hear distant and muffled voices as if she were standing outside the door of a closed cinema to a movie she wasn’t familiar with.
The image was of her and Chloe in their late teens resting under a filter of broken apricot sunset through a canopy of birch leaves shimmering above their heads. Chloe’s head rested on Beca’s shoulder as she ripped up the grass beneath her, spreading it over Beca’s legs like dirty confetti.
She didn’t remember the scene as such. She only knew that it felt real. And that it ached her chest and throat and burned her eyes with the threat of tears.
Now she could no longer withhold the prickling tears and shuddering sobs and resolved that if tiring herself out would be the only route she would be able to take towards a somewhat restful night, she would charge down its’ course at a thousand miles per hour, foot stomped on the gas pedal.
She stretched and bided in the memory as deeply as she could.
Her sobs reverberated softly in the small stone room.
Underneath this, a soft irregular ticking noise sounded from above and outside her window. She ignored it. As it got louder she recognized it to be rain, heavy and sheeted. This prodded her curiosity just enough; still shaking, she stood from the bed and wobbled over to the hand-sized window. Sure enough, though it was dark outside, blue light from a nearby pathway lamp lit up tiny cascading waterfalls down the thick pane.
“How fucking ironic,” she whispered.
-
Chloe called in sick the next day to work. She wasn’t positive why, she simply knew that the exasperation of her most mundane course of existence would eventually wear whatever mere being she had left into the shell of a personality akin to that of a tired old cat.
The events of the past two days had stirred in her a sort of awakening for what it felt like to experience happenstances outside of her citadel of repetitive routine and emotional hibernation. Though it was not the most merry or enjoyable topics to mull over, she found herself wrapped in reflection often and began finding a need to force herself not to dwell on it so much as not to overthink to the point of obsession.
The urge to constantly check in on her odd rescue-project was difficult to quash but necessary. Chloe reminded herself that her relationship was barely visible with this human being--all she had done was let her stay the night and drive her into the city. They had barely even conversed. Still, the event had shaken her, and she had little else to think about. She convinced herself to only inquire into Beca’s situation in two days time when she was sure Beca had become a little more settled. She was confident that Flo was good hands and that she would care for her guest appropriately, especially since now she would be living above the cafe.
Except that Chloe found a bracelet resting on the coffee table by her couch that wasn’t hers. So she kind of had to go back to the cafe. Kind of.
-
It had taken the entire remainder of the day and most of the next to finally situate Beca into a somewhat habitable situation. After Chloe had left, Flo closed up early and she and her new employee spent several hours behind the counter and in the bakery as she showed her the ropes. Beca was happy to see how surprised and pleased Flo was at Beca’s natural agility and skill around the oven and the baked goods. Flo easily taught her to bake the four most popular pastries, specific to her family’s recipes, and how to make four of the simplest drinks on the menu to start out, as well as her way around the cash register. As the day came to a close, they left the cafe to rush their way through several more monotonous but still critical errands like setting up both a bank account and a small, temporary mobile phone. They stopped at Flo’s apartment a few doors down from the cafe before calling it a night and Flo piled Beca’s arms with enough food to last for a week or so. The following morning, Beca set out on her own to blunder her way through a T.J.Maxx and a shopping center to find some clothes that were--well, some clothes. Once she returned to the cafe they worked a little past 6:00 which came oddly fast (her orientation of time and its passing were still muddled and the work at Flo’s came naturally to her.)
Succeeding the whirlwind of toil they had conducted over the past two days, Flo expeditiously suggested that a trip downtown was in order and after twenty minutes of walking briskly through the chill of the celebratory evening, the pair dropped into two rotating stools in a colorfully-lit bar home to some very happy and boisterous company. It had been so long since Beca had had any alcohol, so she ordered the most obnoxious drink on the menu and four jello shots to split between them.
“So, first real day back! How are you feeling?”
Beca sipped her syrupy cocktail and grimaced at the unaccustomed flavor of alcohol.  
“I don’t know. Everything’s kinda’ blurry right now, but my brain is sort of slacking off a little in the staying-awake-during-the-regular-daytime department. The time difference is so much more insane than when you swap from different time zones on earth ‘cause there are an extra four hours of daytime and an extra two of night. There aren’t sunsets either, the sky just goes black for a while which is actually really depressing.”
“Wait, so, do you have, like, powers or anything? Can you fly? You don’t have a halo, right?” Beca again decided to refrain from divulging her distressing ordeal concerning her glowing appendages. She had blissfully forgotten about that situation until Flo had mentioned powers, which threw her in a temporary whirlpool of apprehensive unease.
“Not really, and no, I can’t fly. I mean, I can kinda’ tell when something is wrong with whoever I’m guarding, and I can slow down time by a couple of seconds, but that takes so much energy and I can only use it in emergencies. And you know about bringing the memories back, but that’s only if the memories have been taken away by heaven. They mostly spent time training us how to deal with any situation; so like, CPR, difficult-situation negotiation tactics, advanced martial arts and stuff.”
“Oh. That is boring.”
“Yeah, kind of.” Beca sipped her drink again which was less foul the second round, but still jarring.
“So how does this-” She gesticulated vaguely at Beca’s body which she understood as metaphorical- “work anyways?”
“Oh, well after you die, you can request to be a guardian and they put you through this huge crash course for protecting a human. After training you’re assigned one person to guard on earth for their whole life, starting whenever heaven thinks that person needs the most guidance. Sometimes that means bumping into them and becoming best friends with them or marrying and growing old with them. Sometimes you never even meet them in person, just help them from afar. You do what heaven dictates is best for them, so no complicated attachments. When they die, your memory is replaced in the mind of everyone you’ve ever met as someone else, so no one will recognize you when you go back to earth and you get sent back to heaven and reverted to the age you died to start with another assignment. You can never, um, retire or whatever, and apparently you can only stop once you’ve worn out your brain. And then they, you, know, cease you ‘cause you’re no good to them anymore.”
“Shit.” Flo had sat through staring at the dark brick wall behind the bar with a blank expression enunciating her contemplation of what Beca had revealed.
“‘Shit’ is right. I guess it sounds kind of cool when I describe it, but when I thought I was actually going to have to do it for, like, thousands of years, I was really fuckin’ bummed, dude.”
“Understandable. But you hacked the heaven system, how does that work?”
“Yeah, hacked, or something. I don’t even know if they’ll be able to tell. They’re supposed to be able to connect with their angels but I severed that attachment when I changed my assignment. I think they-” Flo brought Beca’s expatiations to an abrupt halt, holding up her palm to signify silence and raising her phone to her ear, an apologetic glance tossed in Beca’ direction.
“Chloe! Hi! What’s up?” Speak of the devil. Beca squirmed a little on her stool at the sound of Chloe’s voice on the other end. She couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, but she didn’t sound particularly troubled. Even so...
“Oh, okay. We’re at a bar downtown right now…uh huh. Yeah, she is all settled, we finished a few hours ago.”
Flo removed her phone from her ear and hid it under her chin to bring her attention to Beca. “She says she has a bracelet of yours?”
“Oh, um. I guess? I don’t really remember having one but-”
“She says it is not hers.”
“No, Flo, I said it might be.”
“Okay...it is hers. You can drop it off at the café. Anything else?”
Beca seized Flo’s phone from her grasp. “Will you give us a sec’ Chloe?” She placed it on mute.
“Hey! What?!” Flo scrambled and stretched, trying desperately to reclaim her confused friend on the other end of the line, but Beca held it out of her reach, exasperated.
“Flo, why are you being like this?!”
Flo sighed heavily off of an exaggerated voiced inhale and rested her hands on Beca’s arm. Beca grew uncomfortable with the sudden sincerity in her voice.
“Okay, listen. Beca, I know you did not come back for the Bellas. I know you just came back for Chloe. I think you really need some time to adjust on earth before you do anything rash. I don’t think you should be getting too close to her and I think that you are idealizing your situation. Por el amor de Dios, Chloe doesn’t even know who you are! You need to slow your ass down, girl! We have the Bella reunion soon. You can wait that long at least.”
Beca chewed on her lip thoughtfully. This was the first vocal confirmation of what she had been refraining from thinking over fully past the whispered voice of reason behind a closet door barely ajar in the very recesses of her mind. For the thousandth time that day she swallowed the reflection of how careless and hasty her actions had been.
Beca had never dwelled so long and hard over someone or something as she had over Chloe whilst in heaven. Only her mother’s death came as remotely close a subject to how ruthlessly Beca obsessed (Obsess - used very much in the dictionary sense; not lightly. See also; beset, consume, haunt, etc.) over Chloe and her accident. Considering this, a complete and detailed plan would definitely make sense in this context; however, obsession to this point considers little factual influence in a non-idealized, material world. Hence, Beca’s rash behavior and her reactions to Chloe in palpable physical situations.
“Okay... maybe you’re right. I guess I was really weighing everything on Chloe liking me for me, and not all the stuff we shared in the past, you know? Sorry about not saying anything about it, and I really am so happy to see you. I love you so much. All of you. Please don’t think I didn’t come back for you guys. You mean everything to me, we’re family. I just, you know... Please schedule the reunion soon?”
“Yes. Fine, I will.” Beca slowly retracted her arm and placed the phone in Flo’s expectant (but now softened and more sympathetic) outstretched palm. She unmuted the call.
“Hi, Chloe, sorry about that, drunk asshole was bothering us. You can bring the bracelet to the reunion. By the way, do we have some dates for that yet? Aubrey should be here this month, right? Yes. No, uh-huh. Okay great, perfect, text the group-chat about it? Okay, bye!” She hung up and grinned at Beca. “Two weeks, as long as everyone is free!”
“Ugh, dude what am I gonna’ do in the meantime?”
“Well, I know that you only came back for-,” Beca threw her a glare and Flo surrendered, hands in the air. “Sorry, right, a couple reasons, and it is all you have got your heart set on, but you need to take a few steps back. I have to say Beca, you really didn’t plan this very well. You need to establish a solid base here because this is your life now. You may be an angel, but if you think about it, I am, like, definitely a saint for doing all this for you.”
Beca flipped her off and returned to wincing down the copious amounts of fluid she had spent an annoying amount of cash on.
“For real though, you’re right. And I really... appreciate everything you’re doing for me Flo, it means a lot.” Flo smiled and nodded.
-
Perhaps if Chloe hadn’t felt so out of place, she would have asked Flo to let her join the girls at the bar. But for some reason, something about the phone call and the whole situation whispered a sense of exclusion -- well intentioned or not, she couldn’t tell. She hadn’t felt this socially anxious in a while. Her mental health was not even anything she had thought about in depth for a few years and she had long ago passively accepted the concept that with age came dampened emotions, and that such was a perfectly natural sequence. If nothing would ever give her real pleasure again, so be it.
Another walk. Another achingly familiar song. Another foot in front of the other. Another fifteen minutes later and she stood in front of a deep, deep dark pond, rocky banks powdered with grey-blue frost. The water reflected with the perfection of a mirror the nothingness of the ashy sky.
Chloe now stared into this nothingness -- the sort of staring where everything at once is what those who are staring can see, but they aren’t looking, just seeing and thinking. She stood, leaning slightly in a gentle trance as she remembered the time she had dived into this same water. She had choked and snorted through her nose as she had come up for air and swallowed some accidentally. A friend on the bank had been slumped over in hysterics at her fruitless efforts to cease wheezing and laughing and coughing and yelling at her friend to stop. In her mind she imagined that it was Beca who sat beside the water giggling at her. Stupid and weird that you’d think of her, she thought, but she couldn’t properly remember who it had really been, and the image of Beca fit comfortably well in the situation.
She closed her eyes and settled deeper into the memory, in place but outside of time. In vein, she tried to remember who had actually been there to witness the moment. She couldn’t even remember when it had happened. This was not a memory she had thought about in...well, truthfully, she had completely forgotten about it since it had happened. The age of the memory prevented her from remembering details. Only present, was the sweet feeling of the moment, a honey-like residue, resting delicately in her conscious.
She was now fully trying to convince herself, however, that Beca had not been there. She finally shook her head as if to dislodge the memory and sharply inhaled cold air, opening her eyes to see, hunched over on the side of the banks with chin rested on knees, none other than the subject of her specious nostalgia. Chloe blinked several times and recognized the figure to be but a log, dark and rubbed to clump from weather and wear. Now freaking herself out she rose swiftly and promptly speed walked for her home, holding herself firmly from looking around for fear of misreading another inanimate object.
She wasn’t there, obviously she wasn’t there. Just someone who reminds me of her, or looks like her. Obviously.
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a-panda-reads-act-omega · 7 years ago
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ACT OMEGA PART 22
THE 03/17/17 UPDATE
HERE WE GO, finally an update with a BUNCH of pages for me to comment about. Page 115-126, how exciting. God I need to get better with intro’s I’m sorry.
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Heh, I like how everybody’s emotions are clear as day here. Anyways, nobody new’s here which makes me hope that this cast of characters will continue to interact and mingle.
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W o ah there, calm yourself Vriska. She’s not lookin pleased with Tavvy over there. Also, I love how this is literally the exact same panel other than Vriska.
VRISKA: Wh8t?! VRISKA: The hell are all of you st8ring at???????? MEENAH: 38/
WHAT? IT’S PERFECTLY NORMAL TO PASS OUT DURING A LIFE-THREATENING BATTLE AGAINST AN UNKILLABLE GOD.
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Fish gills changed a bit. This animation is also g re a t. I could literally watch Vriska just dust herself off for hours. God that sounded creepy. Fefefri is seeminnnn a lil taken aback here. And Meenah is real disappointed. Or just looking away to please Vriska, which would be cute but is probably not the case.
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I love how not good Vriska is at recovering from embarrassing moments.
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Oooohhh shit. Le’s behind the Juju im guessing, but that green hole is gettin closer and closer. They might need to start getting out of here soon.
VRISKA: What the hell just HAPPENED?
Homestuck happened.  And you passed out.
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Tavros raising his hand like a student. He would totally be the kind of student the teacher always has to pander to, even though the rest of the class is tired of hearing the same thing explained over and over.
TAVROS: dO YOU MEAN, tHE EXPLOSION,,,? TAVROS: oR,,, TAVROS: WAS IT AN ATTACK? TAVROS: iT WAS HARD TO TELL THE DIFFERENCE, TAVROS: sO MAYBE IT DOESN’T MATTER,,,
Was that explosion he’s talking about just the LE mouth blast? I think it’s an attack Tavros. Less of an explosion than it was a beam with boomy results.
VRISKA: Tavros, stop. VRISKA: Just, stop. Right now. I’m already twice over the limit of how much 8ullshit I can take in one day, and your irrit8ing voice is THIS close to giving me a head8che. TAVROS: uHHH,,,? VRISKA: Nope, too l8. Migr8ne city, popul8tion: me! Thanks a 8uttload, 8oy skylark. TAVROS: i,,,iM,,,sORRY,,,? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < yeah sorry about your head vwhiskers but i gotta interject here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < furst off your head hurts beclaws it got hit with a deadly fuckin laser pointer
Hahah. Get it? Laser pointer. Because. CAT. And also, holy shit Vriska got HIT with that?? Or was it just an explosion thingy FROM the laser pointer that knocked her out.
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so blaming it on tavros f33ls purrty damn rude to me tbh DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i dont really wanna get into a catfight with you right now DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < or maybe not ever cause thats just like NOPE no thanks
You’re the best Davepeta. Almost as great as Vriska.
DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < cranky vriska? ill pass on that DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < especially since there are like DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < way more important things to be dealing with! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so ill let it slide fur now B33 DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < as you were saying tavros?
So can Davepeta just be Tavros’ wingman? Because holy shit that’d be great. Actually, could this be the beginning of a beautiful PALE ROMANCE?? Probably not because ARquius is totally their soulmate.
TAVROS: wELL,,, tHANK YOU, fOR SPEAKING ON MY BEHALF, eVEN IF IT WASN’T STRICTLY NECESSARY,
It was necessary tavros.
TAVROS: uHHHH,,,
My point exactly.
TAVROS: bIRD NEPETA? TAVROS: oR, wHOEVER YOU ARE, DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < youre half right! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its davepeta TAVROS: oH, TAVROS: oKAY, TAVROS: sO,,,dAVEPETA,,, TAVROS: dO YOU THINK IT WAS AN ATTACK OR AN EXPLOSION? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < tavros DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < are you holding onto your socks because im about to blow them the fuck off DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i think it was an attack DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < that was ALSO an explosion DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < >B33 TAVROS: }:o
:o MAN, Davepeta you need to chill! I have to go get dressed now, because you just blew my entire OUTFIT off! from shirt to shorts, nothing could withstan the sheer FORCE of your shocking observation.
VRISKA: UGH!!!!!!!!
Shut up Vriska.
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Oh. We also got a Porrim back there. And, I guess that’s just Kankri? Maybe the same one, maybe a different? Vriska needs to chill though.
VRISKA: I don’t have TIME for this! VRISKA: Who gives a shit if it was an att8ck or WH8TEVER!!!!!!!! VRISKA: Am I the really only person who c8res about m8king sure the most evil fucker in all of paradox space is FINALLY DE8D FOR GOOD?!?!?!?! VRISKA: Isn’t that what we r8sed an entire army for?? VRISKA: The army that is NOWH8RE TO 8E FOUND, 8Y THE W8Y!!!!!!!!
I think they’re all d e a d Vriska. And you’re assuming way too much of this group of NINCOMPOOPS. They literally are just doing whatever.
MEENAH: vriska VRISKA: WH8T!!!!!!!! MEENAH: you need to krill out for a sec
Exactly. Krill out girl.
VRISKA: NO, *YOU* “KRILL OUT”!!!!!!!! VRISKA: I AM N8T GOING TO KRILL IN A SINGLE FUCKING DIRECTION UNTIL SOME8ODY DECIDES TO OPEN THEIR MOUTH AND FILL ME IN ON WH8T THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED!!!!!!!! MEENAH: the armys gone
Yup. Everybody fucking died via death laser.
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FFS CHILL Vriska.
VRISKA: GONE?! VRISKA: No SHIT, they’re GONE! VRISKA: Do YOU see a throng of expenda8le, huddled masses anywh8re near8y, Meenah?? 8ecause if so, NOW WOULD 8E A GR8 TIME TO LET ME KNOW! MEENAH: ...
Calm down Vriska, before you push away the people that AREN’T dead. I mean, who know’s if these guys even care enough to keep working for you anyways. I’d say Meenah’s the last person you should be yelling at.
VRISKA: No?? That’s what I fucking THOUGHT. VRISKA: Th8nk you SO much for that astute o8serv8tion! VRISKA: That sure clears up JACK SQU8T! VRISKA: Now how a8out we get 8ack to the LESS immedi8tly o8vious! VRISKA: Gone WHERE? And more importantly, WHY! MEENAH: listen serks i could really do without the attitide MEENAH: if you took two seconds to breathe you could prolly figure it out yourself MEENAH: but if itll help you clam down...
Exactly, Clam down Vriska. Because it doesn’t take a goddamn genius to figure out they’re all dead.
VRISKA: It DEFIN8TELY will. So spill!!!!!!!! MEENAH: they got blasted VRISKA: Are you serious? VRISKA: He took out EVERYONE? In one hit?! MEENAH: nah not all of em MEENAH: but a lotta double death happened yeah MEENAH: i mean the weapon didnt do flip of what it was SUPPOS-ED to do as far as i could tell MEENAH: it did a pretty good job of sheildin our asses MEENAH: (youre whalecome btw)
Meenah, you’re the true hero here. I mean a calm troll who’s powerful, smart, and only sometimes out of order? I’d say that’s the best kinda troll we can get.
MEENAH: but anybody who didnt get behind it MEENAH: definitely got fried VRISKA: So? Where’s Lord English now?? VRISKA: 8ecause if we need to track him down, we need to get on that like, yesterday!
He isn’t still there? I thought he’d just be doing some angry lord english stuff. Hopefully he isn’t causing too much trouble.......
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MEENAH: uh MEENAH: dudes still havin a tantrum over there actually
Oh. I was r i g h t .
VRISKA: Then why the hell are we all the w8y out here?! MEENAH: look vriska MEENAH: the plan didnt work MEENAH: you got KOd or passed out or whatever the shell MEENAH: and the army got gutted MEENAH: so i figured the only sensible fin to do was a tactical retreat VRISKA: Okay, fine. That WAS pretty sensi8le. MEENAH: except MEENAH: most of everyone didnt STOP retreatin MEENAH: no matter what inspirational crab i threw at them VRISKA: .......
Oh.
Oh.
so there WERE more survivors, but the most’ve them just bailed on the scene. Damn. Well, who can blame them? Double death isn’t for everyone I suppose.
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Well ARADIA sure seems happy :D
MEENAH: sorry aboat your head by the way MEENAH: ill admit that was my bad MEENAH: aint easy to haul ass in sand with dead weight over your shoulder
To the people behind ACT OMEGA: You better get me a gif of Meenah dragging Vriska face down through the sand.
ARADIA: hey! ARADIA: at least theres a bright side to all this
Of COURSE there is AA.
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Awe. This team charge hug is actually kinda precious. Tavros’ little smile, and Aradia’s “appreciate him!” look.
ARADIA: tavros convinced a few people to stay ARADIA: right? :D
Oh, well that’s good then! So far, I know we have... Tavros, Aradia, Sollux, Kankri, Porrim, Mituna, Feferi, Latula, Vriska, Meenah, Davepeta, and possibly more.
TAVROS: i DID, TAVROS: tHROUGH THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP,
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TAVROS: aND A LARGE QUANTITY OF WORDS, sPOKEN DIRECTLY FROM THE HEART, TAVROS: eVEN THOUGH IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER IF ALL OF THEM HAD STAYED, i THINK, TAVROS: tHERE IS A PART OF ME THAT ALSO THOUGHT LEAVING MIGHT HAVE BEEN A GOOD IDEA,,, TAVROS: cONSIDERING, hOW THINGS LOOK PRETTY HOPELESS NOW, TAVROS: bUT THAT PART OF ME IS THE ONE THAT MISSED OUT ON THE COMPLETION, oF MY SUCCESSFUL AND FULFILLING CHARACTER ARC,
He get’s so cocky sometimes, but it’s the kind of cocky where he’s nervous he’s not looking cocky in the right way. What the hell am I typing. I just love how self aware he is.
TAVROS: wHICH IS WHAT THE MAJORITY OF THE REST OF ME IS COMPRISED OF, TAVROS: eSPECIALLY THE PARTS THAT WERE KICKING LORD ENGLISH IN THE FACE, nOT TOO LONG AGO, TAVROS: aND TRUTHFULLY, i AM STILL PRETTY FIRED UP, fROM THAT, TAVROS: sO I IGNORED THE COWARDLY IMPULSE, aND INSTEAD STAYED TO HELP MY FRIENDS, sEE THIS UNDERTAKING THROUGH TO THE END, TAVROS: aND THERE WERE SOME PEOPLE, wHO AGREED WITH ME, TAVROS: wHICH ARE THE PEOPLE WHO ARE HERE, pRESENTLY,
Goddammit, these people aren’t the brightest. They had to have stayed with him out of pity. If all of your friends are running away, and the only person asking you to stay and fight an unkillable demon was T A V R O S .
You’d run.
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Sollux doesn’t wanna be here.
ARADIA: see? sollux and i even stayed to help too ARADIA: in fact were all here to help ARADIA: well maybe some of us are here mostly out of curiosity SOLLUX: 0r b0red0m.
Or pity. Or self-hate. Or a deathwish.
ARADIA: or that too! or maybe even a mishmash of all sorts of motivations ARADIA: but whatever the reason we are on your side ARADIA: so i get the feeling if you dont lighten up a little ARADIA: some of us might suddenly have a lot more of a reason to join the others ARADIA: and find something else to do
Nice way of putting it Aradia. Vriska really needs to Clam down and Krill out, because she’s gonna lose the few she has with her still.
OH SHIT THAT’S THE END OF THE UPDATE. Well then, that’d be my cue to sleep. it’s 2:15 AM an I have summerschool in 5 hours. gnight folks. 
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notedchampagne · 8 years ago
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OOO i really love your oc's designs!! Can you tell us a bit about each of their personalities?
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of course
okay so for summary these three were part of a personality-superpower experiment, where they were given powers and were raised in a way that would meant to have their powers benefit them. they ended up escaping from their respective stationsto meet in the woods and group together to find the scientists that raised them, for different reasons each
to the left is marina expone, code [M-2612-T+]
she likes forms of art! she makes songs, builds structures, draws once in a while, shes quite useful if you need her to make anything. otherwise, its hard to get close to her, and once you break her trust, its highly unlikely shes going to trust you again. shes jaded, tired, and just wants a happy and stable life. trust issues bombard her every move, self deprecation comes to visit every once in a while as well. needs a hug and a break
the first letters just an initial for their name, hence m for marina. her power was meant to be teleportation, and she was supposed to live in an environment where she consistently travels, and was supposed to like traveling, with then teleportation benefiting her, and she used to like travelling, until she found that she missed her previous friends and places she used to live in. she was consistently changing her home, never having any stable place to live. would be in a new home for a few months, be treated with care, and when she thinks that its going to be okay, she gets transferred at any point in time without any warning. she never had any close companions due to moving so often, and the only person who was nice to her got killed [for reasons spoilered]. she ends up disliking her power and only resorts to using it when needed. the number (2612) just means that shes the 2,612th person to be put into that specific situation with that power. 
middle is gale tritwo, code [G-79-MP]
ive been talking too much, so ill try to summarize.
gales your natural born leader. has a ton of initiative, could survive in naked and afraid, extremely extroverted and loves talking with people to understand them as much as she can (which can backfire sometimes, because often she gets into too much of a persons personal space and by then it feels like shes interrogating you). she was raised in a friendly and upbeat place, where people would ask any question and theyd answer gladly, or ask her for help and shed be glad to assist. her power is mind perception, which means that if she could, she can perceive someones mind anytime she wants. that doesnt mean she immediately understand them, though. think of the episode dreamscapers in gravity falls. she can see their mind in a visual way, showing their dreams and secrets, and she has to connect pieces of the puzzle to find some information out. she tries not to use it often as shes been told its rude and intrusive, but other times when she gets frustrated that someone wont open up to her, shell just tap right in and try to figure them out. related to marina.
right is leo evaldyad, code [L-02-MM]
leo is an enigma. hes friendly, a role model, respectful, but even say one thing thats wrong and he will turn stone cold. thankfully, he does return to his room when something disturbs him, because otherwise the atmosphere feels extremely solemn. has secrets that even gale cant figure out, very good at lying (followed up by marina), but despite all the secretive things, hes overall a really good dude. he was raised in a leader-like environment, where his caretakers are the big CEOs of a company, and every day is bring your kid to work day. somewhat like marina, he doesnt appeal to commanding people around, and is fine when gale takes the lead in plans. his power is mind manipulation. 
theres like a major backstory and character arc for each of them relating to this but im not gonna elaborate on that 
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trouvvaille · 8 years ago
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[[I want this here for reasons... i love this so much, and it needs to go on this blog]]
vvicissitudo hey meen hey did u see im on for nearly fivve days noww
brackishbarracuda im proud tbh
vvicissitudo yeah? i feel accomplished
brackishbarracuda how long have I wanted u to interact w ppl istf
vvicissitudo i mean i wwouldn't call this accomplished but i feel that wway
brackishbarracuda I do shut up
brackishbarracuda don't actually shut up
vvicissitudo ahaha i lovve you i aint really TALKIN to people offerin idle comments maybe
brackishbarracuda it's a start
vvicissitudo yeah yeah it is am i uh doin good
brackishbarracuda you could stand to loosen up a bit
vvicissitudo yeah true but u kno me prickly af they gotta get thru the hard shell first
brackishbarracuda it helps when you give em half a chance
brackishbarracuda they aint gotta b best buds right off the bat u can b a casual friend
vvicissitudo u really think im bein TOO prickly
brackishbarracuda i just want u to have a chance to get out more clams
vvicissitudo i like wwhere im at
vvicissitudo besides most a these guys they aint gonna be here in six perigees
brackishbarracuda casual friendship enjoy em while it lasts get a decent conversation an if they dont come back oh well
vvicissitudo i guess so hmm but half a them aint replied to me or commented on my followw
brackishbarracuda so let it go and start another one later ppl got lives
brackishbarracuda whats up w u tho
vvicissitudo listenin to music up top lookin at the wavves s gonna rain not storm i think just rain
brackishbarracuda u wanna go for a swim when it starts
vvicissitudo shore its alwwavves nice
brackishbarracuda what uh
brackishbarracuda I mean we ain't talked reely much
vvicissitudo do wwe gotta?
brackishbarracuda and I got quads commin outta my ears
vvicissitudo ahaha that u do wwhat wwould wwe talk aboat me still feelin shitty ovver the other night? cause thats a thing
brackishbarracuda we aint gotta
vvicissitudo there aint much i feel that needs t be talked aboat
besides the wwhole thing ww... that.
i feel guilty
is it my fault?? wwhat can i do for that
but uh
other than that, nah. storms an rain an wwavves are good
talkin about that spill earlier tho got me itchy ZZ3B\
brackishbarracuda ive been takin deep breaths and movin em
vvicissitudo yeah
does that help
brackishbarracuda no
vvicissitudo tried pourin spring wwater dowwn my neck
felt nice but ddn't wwork
brackishbarracuda I just been tryin naut to think aboat it sometimes they ain't wanna open and I half panic for a second also it ain't ur fault also what do you think about the bouys 38/
vvicissitudo thats terrifyin to think aboat
noww i gotta open mine up an check em
ugh
wwhat you really think so?
an uh, wwhich bouys
brackishbarracuda yeah u didnt force her hand she fucked up an she shoulda been straight w him and i tried to fuckin tell her that but no an the clowns
vvicissitudo They're good. I aint too much talkin to em yet Tho uh.
Wwhich clowwns
brackishbarracuda clams the two im datin zee and arlequin
vvicissitudo I kno that... Just wwondered
Theres a lotta clowwns U kno i nevver paid much attention to em
brackishbarracuda would u
vvicissitudo Pay attention? Noww, yeah, I'm startin to
brackishbarracuda theyre good people
brackishbarracuda an i want u to be a part a all a my life vvicissitudo
i wwant to be part of it all a it i didn't followw any clowwns before an noww that i do
its hard
vvicissitudo i keep seein the text, the wways they talk an i see you happy an i feel bitter aboat me because you're my happiness u got a full house im glad for u
brackishbarracuda nearly anyway
vvicissitudo i just hate myshellf rn its nothin that
vvicissitudo its nothin to wworry aboat itll pass
brackishbarracuda i alwaves worry aboat you
vvicissitudo i hate wwhat loz did meen i hate it i think i'd rather havve just had one heartbreak to deal wwith i didn't evven get any closure i got to kiss him once i got to hold him as he fuckin died along wwith you an wwhere does that leavve me
vvicissitudo in limbo wwaitin wwonderin wwheres my makara wwheres my red wwheres the one wwhose gonna fill that hole an then i see ur makaras an i feel terrible cause i don't
vvicissitudo want to get to knoww them because i knoww ill just get hurt an i knoww they aint mine evven if i wwant them to be part of this family an its part a wwhat i posted aint no one talked to me last night i mentioned arlequin once in his owwn post
vvicissitudo that other captor  nevver replied to me evven after i said somethin that other ampora, the wwhiny one he liked posts datin back a wwhole swweep an pike a hundred posts besides im trying, i swwear for you but i dont my heart aint in it i dont i don't knoww wwhat to do here anymoray
brackishbarracuda you keep tryin
vvicissitudo been almost a wweek a godamn record that ivve been on doin social things
brackishbarracuda an im proud a u for it
vvicissitudo i got you thats al i got its all i wwant
brackishbarracuda an im tryin my damdest to help u change it
vvicissitudo i aint wwant to be hurt no more meen
vvicissitudo prince or princess charmin is comin to me this tide i wwanna knoww ur makaras but not ovver social media i wwanna knoww em wwhen they're ovver for tea or  sleepovvers or meetin the kids or meetin me
vvicissitudo it feels useless. *i* feel useless
brackishbarracuda you dont want to know where id b without you
vvicissitudo youd be sadder
vvicissitudo probubbly givven up by now
brackishbarracuda id be dead
vvicissitudo wwhat about ur cro
brackishbarracuda what the fuck about him
vvicissitudo wwould he havve found you or wwould you havve been dead beshore then
brackishbarracuda long fuckin before then
vvicissitudo wwhat wwould havve happened i can see u runnin urself into the ground
brackishbarracuda runnin myself into the ground bitin off more than i can chew gettin pissed and sad and naut havin a good enough reason to naut do stupid shit
brackishbarracuda every single tide you patched me up every single tide youve found me when i was low every tide you talked me outta somefin or made sure i was safe i mean fuck clams you saw what i looked like w/o u for a fuckin perigee
brackishbarracuda efin if id never met you you know how closed off i was how angry id have gotten into a fight i couldnt handle burned myself from the inside out
brackishbarracuda itd a been the oil clams
brackishbarracuda efin if naut literally cept thered b nobody to clean me up to carry me home to show me what the fuck home /was/
brackishbarracuda i wouldnt a had the kids oar you oar vis
brackishbarracuda you are fuckin necessary
vvicissitudo u wwouldn't havve evven had loz wwould u i i just realized that it wwas cause a me you met
vvicissitudo wwasn't it the first big thing wwas wwhen tavv tried to "help" me
brackishbarracuda i woulda had rez and fangs and they woulda left me and thats it
vvicissitudo yeah. wwhat about noww
brackishbarracuda i aint efin shore i woulda had sally
vvicissitudo pike are you happy noww
brackishbarracuda all i know is i aint happy w/o u
vvicissitudo awwww
brackishbarracuda youve literally saved my life so many dam tides mine and sallys and the wrigs does that sound useless to you
vvicissitudo you an the wwrigs are the only ones wwho seem to appreciate me yes, you're the only ones wwho count really an truly u remember wwhen u took me to that play
brackishbarracuda yeah
vvicissitudo an they stood in a roww an thanked us personally for comin i wwant that i wwant it all the tide i wwant people appreciatin me i tell people im wworkin on somethin to make helmsmens livves after the helm better i get "its impossible"
brackishbarracuda that aint a good example clams u kno how hard it is to accept good shit when it aint in your hand
vvicissitudo i tell people im a docterror an a chemical engineer an i get "so wwhat else do you do" i tell people im a reader a wwriter
vvicissitudo a pacifist an i get blank stares an topic changes i get fivve note threads on this hellsite an then nothin thats howw it alwavves goes
brackishbarracuda did u think for a minute that maybe ur just ten levels above everybody else an they aint kno how to talk aboat that shit
vvicissitudo i mention my name an people are pike "who" an i gotta say "eridan" before they realize an then they assume wwrongly a me i aint wwanna be smart if it means no one wwants to talk to me
brackishbarracuda ur doin good shit clams bc ur smart
brackishbarracuda bc a whats happened to u and who you are
vvicissitudo am i a good person
brackishbarracuda betta than me by a long shot
vvicissitudo wwhy i dont wwant to be better than u i wwant to be ur equal
brackishbarracuda then get me to where u are and dont u dare lower urself for anybody
vvicissitudo > You're stunned into silence for a bit.
brackishbarracuda i aint the best person in the world i aint that smart
brackishbarracuda im shit at p much anyfin that aint kissin somebody oar fightin em you aint
vvicissitudo or makin someone feel good aboat themselvves u do a damn good job of that
brackishbarracuda shut up for a second that aint the point
vvicissitudo im cryin AND laughin ill havve u knoww
brackishbarracuda good 3B* point is you deserve a crown more than i ever have
vvicissitudo wwhhat
brackishbarracuda you can patch ppl up and help people w real cod dam problems w real applications you kno history and all that shit you read you write you study ur in ur lab u work hard too hard but u aint a useless bump a log
vvicissitudo but you aint wwanna rule
brackishbarracuda do i look like i could manage anyfin close to rullin rn by myself
vvicissitudo that aint the point u don't WWANNA rule
vvicissitudo period do you??
brackishbarracuda why do you think i asked dirk to let me do political shit
vvicissitudo but wwas that because u foresaww this convversation or because you wwant to
brackishbarracuda its pike i told him im tired a runnin
vvicissitudo yeah?
brackishbarracuda yeah
brackishbarracuda idk wtf good is gonna come outta it but
vvicissitudo i can name good
vvicissitudo u bein by my side me being by ur side are you sure u wwanna do this last chance to back out u knoww
brackishbarracuda i aint got nofin to rule clams its kinda far from a last chance but yeah
vvicissitudo alright then
vvicissitudo so uh wwhat rule wwhat the wwhole planet?? this uh provvince, this continent, this bit of planet wwe call home i mean theres things wwe gotta think of
brackishbarracuda hb we just start w the bit were on yeah
vvicissitudo so wwe need to get scoutin parties together to see HOWW big it is an if anyone else livves on it an if anyone else livves on it then we gotta dispute
vvicissitudo buy their land rom em in exchange for goods or services a emperor aint bein servved hes servvin others pike wwe provvide food or electricity an they trade us
brackishbarracuda clams calm down
vvicissitudo ideally rn wwe feed their family/take care a their land in exchange for their servvices in helpin us scout out- wwhat oh
brackishbarracuda do u kno how many tides i had to retype clams calm bc lemme tell u
vvicissitudo uh oops
brackishbarracuda too much at once aight lets just
brackishbarracuda keep our shit to ourselves baby steps yeah
vvicissitudo babysteps yeah ideally this thing wwe livve on is only an island otherwwise wwe got barriers to wworry about pike cae said
brackishbarracuda either plan on defendin what u got or be ready to run right i aint runnin
vvicissitudo i lovve u <>
vvicissitudo u an ur beautiful soul
brackishbarracuda i love you too
brackishbarracuda <> <><><><><><><><><><><> aight im done im good thats outta my system
vvicissitudo thank you for listenin
brackishbarracuda you aint quaded to me for my looks 3B*
vvicissitudo damn right im quadded to u because of u
1 note · View note
10071991 · 5 years ago
Conversation
Lynn:
23:17
The counselor has joined the conversation.
Lynn:
23:17
Hi, welcome to Lifeline
Lynn:
23:19
Are you there?
Anonymous9806:
23:22
oh sorry
Lynn:
23:23
Hi there
Anonymous9806:
23:23
hi
Lynn:
23:23
Sorry about the wait
Anonymous9806:
23:23
im sorry the thing doesnt make a noise so i was trying to get some stuff sorted out and i didnt realize anyone was ready
Anonymous9806:
23:23
it ok
Lynn:
23:24
So what brings you here tonight?
Anonymous9806:
23:25
i dont feel well
Lynn:
23:26
How so?
Anonymous9806:
23:27
im very sad
Lynn:
23:27
Over what?
Anonymous9806:
23:27
everyone around me hates me
Lynn:
23:28
Can you tell me more about what's making you feel that way?
Anonymous9806:
23:28
but i cant be who they want me to be to make it stop
Lynn:
23:28
Who do you think they want you to be?
Anonymous9806:
23:29
my family yells at me and doesnt listen to me when i try to explain
Anonymous9806:
23:29
not me at least, but they dont listen to me when i try to explain why im me
Anonymous9806:
23:30
they tell me to kill myself and that im not a person
Anonymous9806:
23:30
theyll scream in public and disturb the neighbors
Lynn:
23:30
Your family says that??
Anonymous9806:
23:30
yes
Lynn:
23:30
Wow. It doesn't sound like you're the problem there.
Anonymous9806:
23:31
and im a dumb cunt, the stupidest, how could i be one of them, im a drain on society, i deserve to have my things destroyed
Anonymous9806:
23:32
but i have to be because why would everyone else treat me this way? i dont know anybody who doesnt act like ive done something awful to them but i dont understand why im so awful for needing help and i dont know how to help myself understand
Lynn:
23:33
That's awful and no one deserves to be treated that way
Anonymous9806:
23:33
dad says my cats should be killed too and the kitten i was fostering from the humane societys head should be ripped off
Anonymous9806:
23:33
he says i do
Lynn:
23:34
Do you live with them?
Anonymous9806:
23:34
he says hes tired, i quote, of me "treating him like a n*****"
Lynn:
23:34
Wow...
Anonymous9806:
23:34
i live with dad and ive lived with my uncle before
Anonymous9806:
23:35
so when he destroys my stuff dad says "the n* is pissed" as his justification
Anonymous9806:
23:35
we are white
Anonymous9806:
23:36
and if i try to calmly say "lets talk about your concerns" or something like they taught me in therapy, he just goes even more ballistic, and screams at me to shut up, and says its my fault hes mad and gets more mad
Lynn:
23:36
That sounds terrifying
Lynn:
23:36
How long has he been like this towards you?
Anonymous9806:
23:36
then hell say stuff like theres something wrong with me, i cant follow instructions, i cant do this or that, im stupid and stuff..... but then says theres nothing wrong with me so i should be capable of stuff
Anonymous9806:
23:37
yeah its scary his gf says she thinks its scary too so when he starts shell leave after a while
Anonymous9806:
23:37
uhhhh a few months? mom died in march so 4 months?
Lynn:
23:37
This started right after your mom died?
Anonymous9806:
23:37
it happens 1-3 times a week
Anonymous9806:
23:38
yeah when i moved in with him
Anonymous9806:
23:38
he says terrible things about her too
Lynn:
23:38
Do you think it could be grief that he's mishandling?
Anonymous9806:
23:38
no
Lynn:
23:38
Ok
Anonymous9806:
23:38
he treated her like this too
Lynn:
23:38
Is there anywhere else you an go?
Anonymous9806:
23:38
when she was alive
Anonymous9806:
23:38
no
Lynn:
23:39
*Can* sorry
Anonymous9806:
23:39
no one believes me but im disabled
Anonymous9806:
23:39
so they blame me bc i deserve it all bc i havent been working since mom died
Anonymous9806:
23:40
im supposed to go to school i think in a couple weeks if they help me figure out a dumb hangup thats happened with it
Anonymous9806:
23:40
im hoping i can do it bc i dropped out of high school bc it was hard
Lynn:
23:41
I get that, but it could help you get a job in the longrun that will allow you to get away from him.
Lynn:
23:42
In what way are you disabled?
Anonymous9806:
23:42
im autistic and mentally ill, i have really bad legs too
Anonymous9806:
23:43
ive been institutionalized numerous times and ppl threaten me with it
Anonymous9806:
23:43
i hate it a lot so i hope i dont say anything so you dont have to put me somewhere
Anonymous9806:
23:44
this is my first time using a support chat and thats scared me from using it before
Lynn:
23:44
I don't have the authority to put you anywhere, so no worries about that.
Anonymous9806:
23:45
oh im sorry i should have clarified im "high functioning" aspergers so my strength is linguistic
Anonymous9806:
23:45
im relieved
Anonymous9806:
23:46
if i flap or rock or pace i get in trouble
Anonymous9806:
23:46
so i try to stim swinging at the park so nobody realizes im doing it as much
Anonymous9806:
23:46
its not as obvious i mean
Lynn:
23:47
Right
Anonymous9806:
23:47
so it gets hard if im in public otherwise bc i want to but i dont want to bc i dont want people to treat me weird like family does
Lynn:
23:48
I can understand that.
Lynn:
23:48
Do you feel like you're in physical danger there?
Anonymous9806:
23:49
i dont know
Anonymous9806:
23:49
i worry about my computer and my cats but i dont care if im threatened
Anonymous9806:
23:51
i guess maybe he threatened me the other night? he put his fist close in my face and was like "now im threatening you" after i told him he was getting violent
Anonymous9806:
23:51
throwing things and destroying property is violent to me but maybe im wrong
Lynn:
23:51
That sounds violent to me.
Lynn:
23:52
Have you considered calling the police when he gets like that? I'm afraid of you getting hurt.
Anonymous9806:
23:52
yeah like way across the room and stuff
Anonymous9806:
23:52
ive told HIM to call the police when hes screaming at me to get out of his house and stuff
Anonymous9806:
23:53
otherwise if they try and have me press charges or something i have nowhere else to go or anything
Lynn:
23:54
Ok, I just want to make sure you're physically safe
Lynn:
23:54
I am so sorry about how he treats you, though, that's horrible.
Anonymous9806:
23:55
its my fault but i dont know how to change and be more quiet
Lynn:
23:55
It's not your fault. He needs to be more understanding of your condition.
Anonymous9806:
23:56
nobody is
Lynn:
23:56
That's such a horrible position to be in.
Anonymous9806:
23:56
i tried to bring a chair upstairs the other day, and it was so heavy? but i didnt have help and if i didnt do it hed punish me. i got so exhausted i passed out at the top of the stairs
Anonymous9806:
23:57
so tonight i was being mimicked with like..... you know that whimpering "hng hng hng" people do to make fun of people? that about it
Anonymous9806:
23:57
ive also fallen down the stairs because he ripped the bar off at the landing
Anonymous9806:
23:58
and i was screamed at for being lazy and not doing my volunteer work at the humane society bc i sprained my ankle and knee
Anonymous9806:
23:58
its been uhhhh a week and it still hurts a lot
Anonymous9806:
23:58
but im told i have to go through pain and im weak
Lynn:
23:58
Yeah, that sounds really painful
Anonymous9806:
23:59
i have to do things that cause me physical agony
Anonymous9806:
23:59
im sorry if that sounds extreme im not just uhh. i cant remember the word for making something sound worse? im not just trying to make it sound worse it hurts so bad i just want my legs amputated a lot
Anonymous9806:
23:59
if they were gone they wouldnt hurt
Lynn:
00:00
You might try calling 211 to see if they have any resources to help someone with special needs find employment, find housing etc. to try to help you be more independent and get out of there.
Anonymous9806:
00:00
but then im scolded and called a dumbass and im trying to "become a drug addict" trying to find a solution to my pain
Lynn:
00:00
You should not have to put up with being treated that way.
Anonymous9806:
00:01
ive tried to work with vocational rehab before but they kind of get to a point where they get to buck up too
Anonymous9806:
00:02
it was through them i became a debt collector because we thought it wouldnt hurt my legs and idk, they figured i could handle talking to people constantly but
Anonymous9806:
00:02
i coudlnt
Anonymous9806:
00:02
people would call me fat and an asshole and im ruining their life and stuff in that job, and people would do it in tech support jobs ive tried before
Anonymous9806:
00:03
but debt collecting was the worst and im sorry i feel weird saying this but in that job it.... kinda turned into something similar to what you do here? i talked a guy out of suicide on the phone and it was really triggering
Anonymous9806:
00:03
i dont want to be around people and thats why i volunteer at the humane society because the animals dont yell at me
Anonymous9806:
00:04
or trigger me really
Anonymous9806:
00:05
and then it also gets hard bc ive been struggling a lot more with stuff. applying for college and trying to get financial aid and sign up for classes and stuff has been a nightmare because i haavent figured out howto navigate their websites and stuff, my friend.... um. shes also named lyn. but shes helped me every step of the way. every step has felt like a hurdle
Lynn:
00:07
If you want help I can let social services know what's going on, but I would need your information so I can tell them who you are and where to go.
Anonymous9806:
00:08
what kind of social services? like someone that would help me figure out how to sign up for college classes and stuff or help me make doctor appointments and stuff like that?
Anonymous9806:
00:08
that would help me
Anonymous9806:
00:09
i feel bad for lyn helping me figure stuff out all the time but i need help understanding it
Lynn:
00:09
211 might be able to help with that, but no, I mean DHR to help make your dad stop hurting you like this.
Anonymous9806:
00:09
when i get frustrated i cry and have meltdowns and stuff and then that doesnt make situations better
Anonymous9806:
00:10
oohhh ok. i dont know what dhr means?
Anonymous9806:
00:10
but if im living at his place hes allowed to treat me how he wants to or ill be homeless
Lynn:
00:10
What he's doing is verbal and mental abuse and DHR would get the state involved to investigate and monitor the situation. No, he is not allowed to do that.
Anonymous9806:
00:11
i dont care much about me, been there done that, but my cats i love and i dont want them to not be cared for
Anonymous9806:
00:11
even if i dont pay rent...?
Anonymous9806:
00:11
if i.... have recordings.... does that help...?
Lynn:
00:11
It could, yes.
Anonymous9806:
00:12
he got mad and threw my phone at me the other night because "im so stupid bc im always on it" but uh. its hyper vigilance i guess that if he starts screaming i start recording
Lynn:
00:13
Your autism is documented right?
Anonymous9806:
00:13
um... would they be able to talk to me.... and not involve him yet...? its a situation where i dont know if it would do more harm than good? but maybe they could help me like. i dont know....
Anonymous9806:
00:13
yeah it should be on file at uhhh
Lynn:
00:13
I don't need to know where
Lynn:
00:13
It's ok, just so long as it's somewhere.
Anonymous9806:
00:13
when you say documented you mean my doctors and therapists ive had are aware of it?
Lynn:
00:14
Yes
Lynn:
00:14
Do you still have a therapist?
Anonymous9806:
00:14
i moved from a different state but they could probably send papers and stuff? i had dbt therapy there
Anonymous9806:
00:14
i miss it
Anonymous9806:
00:14
no, i havent been able to find one that accepts my insurance but also accepts new patients
Anonymous9806:
00:14
i tried to find grief counseling too for my mom
Anonymous9806:
00:14
i miss my mom
Anonymous9806:
00:15
she understood me
Lynn:
00:15
I'm so sorry you lost her.
Anonymous9806:
00:15
thank you for your condolences
Lynn:
00:16
Of course
Anonymous9806:
00:16
i cry because i miss her every day but i dont know how to stop missing her
Anonymous9806:
00:17
dd sys he gave me three weeks before cutting into me so i could grieve but i dont think even after three years ill be done with it
Anonymous9806:
00:17
or 30 or 300
Lynn:
00:17
Before cutting into you?
Anonymous9806:
00:17
yelling at me and stuff
Anonymous9806:
00:18
im sorry i didnt mean literally
Anonymous9806:
00:18
im scared of knives so im glad not literally lol
Lynn:
00:19
So that means he can control it.
Anonymous9806:
00:20
when he gets drunk theres no controlling anything i dont think? even if i try there doesnt seem to be rationalizing but my idea of rational and other peoples i guess is different
Anonymous9806:
00:21
his girlfriend says hes an asshole when hes drinking tequila
Lynn:
00:23
I don't know what DHR will do, if anything, but do you want me to call them for you?
Anonymous9806:
00:23
um
Anonymous9806:
00:24
would they let you ask them questions?
Anonymous9806:
00:24
or would we get in trouble for wasting their time?
Anonymous9806:
00:24
i say we because youd be asking for me but i dont want to get you in trouble
Lynn:
00:25
No, not at all. Because of your autism what he's doing is illegal, it's verbal and mental abuse.
Anonymous9806:
00:26
even if im 'high functioning"?
Anonymous9806:
00:26
even if im 'high functioning"?
Anonymous9806:
00:26
dont like those terms but that helps ppl understand what i mean i think
Anonymous9806:
00:26
like i was a "gifted student" but.... i dropped out of school and stuff
Lynn:
00:26
Does he have legal rights over you, like guardianship?
Anonymous9806:
00:26
oh im sorry i didnt mean to send the one thing twice
Anonymous9806:
00:27
i dont think so, i was an adult when we found out? because im "high" im kind of left to me but it doesnt mean its not..... really hard...
Anonymous9806:
00:28
i didnt have anywhere to go when our room mates bailed on us (im blamed for this too but it wasnt my faul my room mate lost her job) so i had to come here when mom died a week after i left the state
Anonymous9806:
00:29
i was her caregiver because im more able bodied than her with final stage copd, and otherwise myuncle wanted her to be put in a nursing home but i didnt want that, so i tried to take care of her as best as i could but its hard bc i cant take very good care of me i guess
Anonymous9806:
00:29
she probably wouldnt have died if id been better
Anonymous9806:
00:31
if we didnt go to colorado with our room mates i mean
Lynn:
00:31
No, that wasn't your fault. I'm sure she was grateful and you did a great job with her.
Anonymous9806:
00:31
but i made the bad decision to go with them so we could afford rent
Anonymous9806:
00:32
well.... she didnt want me to leave? i think she liked being with me
Anonymous9806:
00:33
when she broke ribs falling out of her bed once she had to stay in a nursing home for a month and the food was so so bad so she liked if i baked some stuff if i felt well enough to
Anonymous9806:
00:33
like liver in a gelatin served with broccoli bad
Lynn:
00:33
Oh wow, yeah. That does not sound good
Anonymous9806:
00:34
i guess im biased but id take my shake and bake over that too lol
Lynn:
00:34
Lol, for sure!
Anonymous9806:
00:34
so id smuggle her in some food when id visitor
Anonymous9806:
00:34
*visit her
Lynn:
00:34
That was nice of you
Anonymous9806:
00:34
she liked little debbie nutty bars a lot, and coca cola
Anonymous9806:
00:36
and she didnt like usual "old people" stuff i guess? she liked watching shows on her amazon fire stick, so shed make the trip from the bed to the stuffed armchair she had, turn that on, and then i was on call when she needed me for stuff, and the cats would come and go but they liked to sleep on her bed a lot lol
Anonymous9806:
00:36
i hope it wasnt a bad life for her
Lynn:
00:37
So what do you think about getting some help with your dad?
Anonymous9806:
00:38
it would be nice, but i dont know if it would be beneficial or waste everyones time. if i cant stay here then i have nowhere to go, and my cats dont, so im worried
Anonymous9806:
00:39
would someone be able to talk to me first so we could figure out if its worthwhile? im so worried they wont believe me either and then ill be in more trouble and everyone just wasted time and resources
Lynn:
00:39
Ok, if you don't want to give me your information I understand that, but look up adult protective services in your area or call 211 so you can ask what you need to and decide what you want to do. You don't have to let him treat you like this.
Anonymous9806:
00:40
im sorry im not trying to cause problems for you or um. make it seem like im turning my nose up at your health i appreciate you
Lynn:
00:40
Just explain to whoever you talk to why you're so scared and ask for them to help you make sure he doesn't make things worse for you.
Anonymous9806:
00:41
okay, thanks so much! i will do this when hes not around to hear me
Lynn:
00:41
You're not at all. Your concerns are valid, I'm just trying to give you ways to find help.
Anonymous9806:
00:41
thank you
Lynn:
00:41
Ok, good. Please do call them. You don't deserve this.
Anonymous9806:
00:41
ive just been so sad
Lynn:
00:41
You're welcome!
Lynn:
00:42
I know and I get why.
Anonymous9806:
00:42
ive been overwhelmed and it doesnt help to be screamed at
Lynn:
00:42
No, it doesn't.
0 notes
memories-journal · 5 years ago
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everything is so hard and i'm too tired.
i don't know if i've made the best self care decision ever or if i've ruined my life and i'll feel like killing myself once i'm okay again. but i've already isolated myself.
i don't feel lonely at all. i really don't. but i'm, in fact, alone and i feel this intense melancholy in my chest that i hadn't felt in so long.
i don't feel anxious. i don't feel overwhelmed. but every second that passes i find less meaning in things, in life. i wonder how much more i'll want to take.
i'm having a really hard time eating. it's on purpouse mostly, because i don't push myself to eat. i push myself not to. i'm not counting calories (yet) but i'm regaining control over what i eat. i fast around 18 hours per day and i eat less than half of what i used to. and everyday i hate myself more when i eat. everyday i eat a bit less and i wish it could be nothing. today i even thought about purging, and i would have if the loo hadn't been occupied at that moment.
everything is so confusing and i can't even write. i didn't want to be an attention seeker. and i thought a great way to assure that would be to isolate myself. and i know nobody misses me. but i can't come back. i don't know if i want to. and i knew this could happen and that was the reason why i would have panic attacks every time my exgf would not eat or everytime i woke up and my eyes were swollen. i didn't want to go back to that place. but i'm here now. i have nothing to hold on to. and i don't care and i hate it. because now i don't want to recover, i don't want to talk to my friends and they probably don't like me anymore bc it's been many days since i've paid them attention. and they probably talk shit about me now but i don't fucking care bc i deserve it bc i'm a terrible person and the only thing i do is ruin ruin ruin everything i have even when i don't want to and until i want to ruin and destroy myself bc maybe depression it is my place bc the worst part of this is that im being productive and im reading and cleaning my room and studying and doing hw and i can even close thw shutters now and i have a fake sense of wellbeing everytime im not eating and i cant do not even half of that when im trying to be fine like i was 2 weeks ago and im just so tired bc i tried so hard not to be in this place and now i want to be here and i want to destroy myself in every possible way and i wonder how much days will it take for me to sart cutting again. bc i didnt mind that its been almost 2 years dince the last time i purged when 30 minutes ago i went downstairs to vomit my dinner so 18 months without cutting wont be bad. and i hate it i hate me i hatr everything and i want to rip my fucking skin out bc i cant talk about it bc that may make me fele better and thatd mean that im doing this for attention and i dont want to be that kind of person but i cant help being a shitty person
i dont know if ill be better or if i want to be. maybe its like my mum said. ill be depressed forever. now im getting on well with her and i hate feeling like this bc everything is fine and im here feeling terrible and ruining everything. i always do everything wfomg and i hate it. i cant find a solution but to blame myself.
the funny thing is that i could live like this anyway. i can picture myself being alone just studying and working and not hanging out with anyone in days weeks months... but i get anxiety attacks when im really trying to be fine bc when i fight depression i waste all my energies and i overthink bc i cant be sad around most of my friends bc they wont understand or itd be like im seeking attention or like i want them to be sorry for me and i also gdt boring and irritable and sometimes i get so clingy or i cant stop talking about mysekf. and also if i stop eating i have a purpouse. sth to look forward to. some readon to live maybe, bc its been months since ive had a dream or sth that i said well, i really want this in the next few minths/years.
my words are so tangled and i dont feel well at all and i know that maybe its bc i ate. i didnt want to. im not even hungry anymore. not even if my stomach growls loudly. i pprefer emptiness there. it fills the cold in my heart.
im so scared. i dont want to think like that but my mind is so clear when i dont eat. and then when i do this happens.
maybe i should talk to my therapist about this, and shell tell me if its fine or not that ive isolated myself. i havent isolated myself from everyone tho. i still want to talk to my exgf and my 2 friends who live in other city. but im pretty sure they dont want to talk with me. i wonder what i did.
im disconnected from everyone anyway. i wouldnt be able to talk.
i shouldnt tell that to my therapist too. idk. its difficult. i was going to tell her about all this on thursday. but i couldnt see her. and maybe now it seems like i want to seek her attention. or like i depend on her. or like i want to make her feel guilty. and its not like that. itd started before she cancelled the session. but maybe it seems an excuse.
every word from my mouth seems an excuse. maybe it's bc i need to justify my living.
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portermeacham26-blog · 7 years ago
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hot hairy vagina pics - The Insider Secrets of Atk Hairy Pussy Hd Discovered
They had dressed and sprayed air freshener, but the musky scent of sex still seemed too obvious for their father to miss. He had his feet up on the coffee table with Camdens head in his lap. Were fine, Jacob assured her. Dad came in through the kitchen. Molly heard the garage door open and scanned the room one last time. Camden had lovely feet, with perfectly pink nails. Jacob, Im gonna need you to run me to the airport and pick me up again on Sunday afternoon. Molly was sitting with Camdens legs across her lap and was tracing her bare feet with trembling fingers. Molly had painted those nails a hundred times over the years, but touching them now created a new kind of flutter in her stomach. The satisfied smile on his face made her chuckle. Jacobs eyes were wide as he glanced between Camden and Molly. She smiled at him and nodded. Hey, he muttered, sounding tense and tired. Im gonna have to fly out tonight to fix a screw up in Atlanta. You make a nice pillow. Camden sighed happily, then sat up. Molly was tempted to tease him, but something in his eyes seemed vulnerable just then. He whispered, Youll wait for me? Dad packed in minutes and by the time Jacob had his shoes on they were ready to go. Camden had sat up and was looking over the back of the couch as they came back into the living room. Oh, hey Camden, Dad said with a weary smile. I hope you fix the problem. I didnt see you there. I dont mind Camden hanging out, but no parties, no guests, and no drinking my liquor. Camden gave him a sympathetic smile. Sorry you have to work all weekend. Well clean up and get ready for bed, but well wait. Yes, sir, Molly and Jacob answered in unison. Its for food and emergencies. He looked to his two kids. Of course they will, Camden said. Ill tell Mom so shell know to keep an eye on them for you. Im sure Camdens parents will be happy to help you if you need anything else while Im gone. Heres a hundred bucks, but this isnt spending money. I doubt well even only hairy pussy pics leave the house. Jacob gave them a sly smile as he helped his Dad carry the bags out. Its just technical stuff, but I need to be there to see the problem and fix it. Im trusting you guys to be responsible. Now that she was alone with Camden, Molly felt butterflies in her stomach and couldnt understand why. Lacking anything intelligent to say, Molly asked, You okay? I expect to get change back with receipts. She paused for a moment as her face flushed pink. I never wanted to before. Yeah, she sighed and smiled over at Molly. Itll be fine, Dad, Molly said. Camden sat close and quiet as Robot Chicken played on the unwatched television. It feels that way looking back. I guess I always wanted to kiss you. Call us if you get worried. She took Camdens hand and ran her thumb across the back. Is it weird that I want to kiss you now? She shivered and chuckled to herself. It seemed like the clear categories of brother and friend had run together like a painting in the rain. Then when you were really getting into it, I suddenly wanted to taste you. Im changing the subject, Camden declared with a sigh. The picture may be different, but the colors were just as beautiful to her. Can I borrow some clothes? Sure, we could probably use a shower before Jacob gets back anyway. Theres lube in my panties and it feels weird. It never bothered me or anything. Molly got up and pulled her friend up after her. We were always kinda touchy. Molly turned the experience over in her mind. The dresser was crowded with cosmetics under a large mirror with pictures tucked in along the frame. Her room had white furniture with purple accents. They continued to hold hands as they went down the hall to her room. Molly pulled open a drawer and got out panties and long night shirts for them both. There were pictures of the three of them through the years, always smiling and always together. Camden had begun undressing, folding her clothes and placing them on the storage bench under the window. No, not to me anyway Molly said, feeling relieved. Her full size bed was unmade, with the purple and gold comforter pushed all the way down against the foot board. This is long enough to perm! God, I should keep trimmed but I never had a reason to during winter before. Getting a towel, she headed back to find Camden climbing up on the bed. Let me get Jacobs trimmer. She pulled her pubic hair in a fist to show Molly how long it was. Molly grinned as they bumped shoulders when they passed through the doorway. Turning on the buzzy trimmer, Molly focused on her task. He goes apeshit when I use it, but I imagine things may be different now. The first few passes got the fluff on top of the mons down to a reasonable size, then she pushed her legs open to trim along her vulva leaving enough hair so it wouldnt itch. Molly stepped into the shared bathroom between their rooms and grabbed his electric trimmer off the charger. Once she got the majority of the bushy hair out of the way, she realized Camden was biting her lower lip. Hop on this towel so I can keep the hairs out of my bed. Can you help me do it? Youre lips dont stick out, Molly noted as she mushed the skin around to get into the creases of her legs. It only took a few more passes to leave her neatly trimmed atk natural and hairy ready for a shower. Her strong scent wasnt unpleasant, but the combination of arousal, lube, and personal chemistry kept her from attempting what she wanted to do just then. Like when you give me a pedicure and paint my toenails. Just the opposite, she whispered. She blushed as she asked. Molly answered and quickly removed her own clothes, throwing them at the clothes hamper near the door. Like Camden said, the sensation of being sheared was more pleasant than she expected and she soon found herself biting her lower lip. The tingling in her stomach intensified as she climbed up to place herself on the towel. I told you it was nice. Camden asked with a grin. She wiggled her nicely painted toes and laughed. Lift up your knees, Im going in. Camden said when she noticed. The buzzing of the trimmer felt almost as good as the little vibrating egg shed picked up. Its just so interesting! Camden had a curious expression on her face as she felt around with her warm fingers. Im more pink, but I like the way your lips look tan here. I can only see mine with a mirror. Molly sat up and tried to see, but she couldnt contort herself enough. And I think your opening is smaller than mine. Camden trimmed down her labia and pushed her skin around to get the trickier areas. When she parted her inner lips, Molly looked to see what she was doing. After warming some on her fingers, she stepped back to the bed. Molly asked with a chuckle. Go ahead, Molly said as she watched, more curious than aroused now. Hold on, Camden said, then got the lube from the dresser drawer theyd hidden their toys. It felt tight and tingly, but then Camden started feeling around along the front wall. Like too small or just smaller? Camden took her first two fingers and slid them inside Mollys opening. That makes me feel like I need to pee, Molly said through clenched teeth. Molly put her hand out as Camden coated her fingers with a bit of lube. One hand rubbing up top, two fingers inside pushing here. See if you can find it. Mine swells up when I get close and pushing on it makes me cum so hard. Molly slid her middle and ring fingers inside, feeling along until she hit a kind of rough spot along the smooth front wall. I wanna see something. I feel like were two guys looking at a cars engine. The kiss warmed quickly as Molly scooted closer, but when it cooled again it left them both breathless. Camden stepped closer with an impish grin on her face, then tilted her head as she reached Mollys lips. Thats the spot I have to hit when Im playing with myself. We promised wed wait, Camden whispered. While Molly put their hair in the trash and the towel in the dirty clothes hamper, Camden got the water running in the tub to get it hot. Want me to scrub your back? They didnt waste much time to avoid the temptation of playing without Jacob. It does feel kinda nice to push there. Molly did explore a bit while she had the soapy wash cloth and enjoyed he attention she received as well. Camden was playing with her her hairy pits phone as she waited, sometimes sliding her toes to tickle along Mollys thigh. Just doing normal things like this felt exciting to Molly now. Dressed in Mollys panties and night shirts, the girls sat on the bed together while Molly stripped the chipped polish off her fingernails and applied a fresh coat of her favorite pale pink color. Camden kept glancing at the door while she rubbed lotion on Mollys feet. Molly grinned, then they both laughed at the situation. The silence was comfortable, their occasional touches sweet, but under it all was a passion that bubbled to the surface whenever she stared at Camdens face. Hed have called if something came up. It made her feel jealous in a way, but not as badly as she expected. With her nails finished and drying, Molly lay back with her fingers spread over her stomach. Yeah, she whispered and blushed a deep pink. Watching her friend worry, Molly recognized how strongly she felt about Jacob. She felt her stomach churn as she considered how to say what she needed to say. Their new intimacy had changed things, but if anything it felt warmer and deeper between them. Ive always had a crush on him, ever since we were little. Camden wasnt always assertive, but this was obviously something she felt strongly about. Wait for him to get back, she commanded. He really likes you, you know. Maybe we should call him. Hasnt it been too long? Camden was suddenly nervous, like she didnt know how to act. Okay, Molly agreed and shut her eyes for a moment. Hey, if you guys want some alone time this weekend, she started and was stopped by the hard look in Camdens eyes. Just then the rumble of the garage door signaled his return. I know its corny, but I had to bring you something. I mean, he paused as his flush deepened. She ran her fingers to show where she meant. How the hell did I get this lucky? When Jacob appeared in the doorway he had two small bouquets of three red roses with babys breath all atk hairy amateurs wrapped in green paper. Hey, he said, bluffing a mature air, but it didnt last a second until his cheeky grin appeared. She changed her position on the bed three times before assuming a casual pose next to Molly. I just spent an awkward trip to the airport with Dad, then a long trip home just thinking. And you, he said almost as a question. Shit, youre both so gorgeous. All my twin brothers get to sleep with my hot friend. Are you sure youre both okay with this? Rather than jump in, Molly held herself back and let Camden speak for them both. Weve been talking, Camden whispered. Im never gonna stop crushing on you, either, apparently. Being my brother, of course, Molly laughed. I know its gotta be weird for you two, but Im pretty sure we can work something out, cant we? He walked into the room and joined them sitting on the bed. Im never gonna stop being Mollys friend, even if things change a little from now on. And then you kissed me. Her flush deepened as she took both of their hands. Then maybe Im the weird one, because I liked it. He looked at Molly with his frown fighting his smile. In case you have almost any inquiries with regards to in which as well as the way to employ atk hairy kingdom hairy amateurs (their website), you possibly can email us at the website. Its kinda hard to get my head around, but I cant deny how hot is was watching you two. And I definitely liked kissing you. he shook his head and gave up trying to be cool. I mean, really kissed me. Jacob finally broke the silence when he said, Lets see what happens this weekend. Camden laughed and the tension was gone like it had never been there at all. Camden watched from the bed as Molly straighten her room. Molly got their toys and put them on her nightstand while the shower was running. Now that she knew how powerful the experience was it scared her a little. Molly said and took his hand, then looked at Camden. It is weird, Jacob admitted. In just one afternoon so much had changed. Me too, but mostly happy. In that case, go shower because I can smell you from here, Molly said as she pushed him to get off the bed. Penny for your thoughts, Camden prompted. It was hard to judge if it was better or worse or just different at this point. Jacob came in dying off with a towel. The three of them sat there with the roses between them on the bed, staring around at each other. It just flops around, Camden whispered. He was naked and his vigorous rubbing made his cock and balls bounce around. It was nerves, she knew it. Molly climbed back into bed and huddled next to her friend. Watching him had a hypnotic effect on both women. Oh, Camden exclaimed, nodding as she seemed to get it. I guess its not any weirder than running without a bra and your tits going all over the place. Fucking dance belts, Jeez that was torture. The worst was when Molly made me do ballet with her one year, Jacob said with a wry look in Mollys direction. I always wondered why you guys had to wear those if you had underwear. I have a picture of Molly singing into her hair brush wearing a towel with curlers in her hair. Thats why we wear jock straps. Then they all laughed about it. He turned off the lights in the bathroom, then turned off the overhead lights in Mollys room. Oh, yes, the threat of getting a full page ad in the yearbook is my half of our mutually assured destruction pact. The lamp on the nightstand offered more than enough light for him to climb into bed next to Camden with Molly on the other side. Camden clapped her hands and said, Please tell me theres pictures of him in tights! The full bed was cramped, but the three of them settled in together in the dim light. Molly pulled up the sheets, then made Camden her little spoon. Molly heard them kissing and grinned. At some point Jacob rolled over slightly and sighed. Jacob tossed the towel over the shower rod to dry. Camden scooted down to sit between his legs. I want to taste you, Camden whispered to Jacob. Molly was interested, so she rolled closer to Jacob and put her head on his shoulder. She snuggled against Camdens back and drifted off a little. Camden shot Molly a look of horror. She could tell how intense it was by how hard he squeezed her fingers. Her tongue licked down the front of his shaft as she took him in. His erection was growing as Camden rubbed him along his shaft with her open palm. Camden rolled into his side as he slipped his arm under the pillow. Beats me, no ones ever done it for me before. The effect on Jacob was immediate as he gasped, lifted his head, and squeezed Mollys fingers white. When she lifted it up and licked his head Jacob sighed and took Mollys hand. Camden asked, then slipped his swollen head between her lips. That is so fucking hot, she murmured when Camden gagged silently, then gamely kept on. Up and down, Camden took his shaft in her mouth as she watched his reaction each time she came up for air. Finally he gasped and sat up slightly, straining against some invisible weight as Camden moaned. Then kill me, he replied through clenched teeth. When she did that to me I thought I was gonna die, Molly whispered to her brother. Jacob had been silent for a while with his legs straight and toes pointed down. Her eyes began to water and her breath came in gasps as she tried to keep him deep inside for longer periods of time. Molly realized she was squeezing Jacobs hand just as hard as he was. It tastes better from the source, Camden said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Molly moved her knees apart and lay down between her thighs. When he collapsed back against the bed, Molly touched his sweaty face and blew cool air on him as he panted. The warm musky smell of Camdens arousal made her mouth water. Sitting up as Camden returned, Jacob rolled over to kiss her and rub his hand over her breasts. Camden exclaimed, then reached down to grip Mollys hair in her fists. Tasting her friend was like licking a penny, all bright flavors of copper and sparks. Right there, oh yeah, right there! Pushing her thighs up to open her completely, Molly kissed her swollen lips while pushing two fingers inside slowly. From the noisy wet sounds above she knew they were kissing, but Molly didnt care. Ignoring the discomfort as Camden pulled her hair, Molly opened her mouth to rub the flat of her tongue against the top of her slit. Molly wanted to play and explore, licking the edges and creases, kissing her deeply to press her tongue as far as it would go, all the while massaging that little spot deep inside with her two fingers. Come up here, Molly said as she moved back to her side of the bed to let Camden come back. Camden must had had enough playing and pulled harder on her long hair to direct the attention where it was needed most. The flood of arousal increased, soon covering her face and hand with Camdens sticky emissions. Taking Camdens erect nubbin between her lips, Molly sucked and released like she was giving head to the tiny bump. Camden froze, her legs out straight as she alternated between panting and holding her breath. Following the command, Molly sucked the bump all the way into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it over and over. The frenzy continued as she flexed her hips until the pulses slowed, then stopped. Keeping a steady cycle of motions was more difficult than shed assumed. God, Im so hot right now. Jacob looked up at her with a half-grin that looked like he was proud of her for some reason. Released at last, Molly sat up to sexy hairy pussy girls look at her friend. She was focused on her friends pleasure and knew Jacob was as well. I want to say something stupid right now, Camden whispered. Wiping her face on the sheet as moved, Molly lay next to her best friend, kissing her softly while Jacob caressed them both. Camden uttered a long, low groan as she forced Mollys face into her wetness. Im not sure I know myself, Molly chuckled. Being with Camden clicked in a way kissing her old boyfriend Brian McCue never had. After the tender moment, Jacob whispered, You have to show me how you did that. As she touched her friends flat stomach she wondered what it might mean. Molly realized she wasnt as curious about being with a guy anymore. Her fingers felt like they were sucked in deeper as Camden tensed, then she felt the rhythmic pulse of her inner muscles that signaled her orgasm. It no longer seemed important somehow. She put her head down on the pillow with a sigh. Camdens scent was all over her face, her flavor was still in her mouth. It was more satisfying than anything shed done before. Camden was still running her fingers through her hair, rubbing the spots shed pulled so hard moments before. Come here and kiss me so I dont. After taking a deep breath and letting it out in a low hum, Molly said, Yes. She could tell Jacob was falling to sleep from his deeper breaths. Camden asked this time in the silence. She felt wet drops fall from her chin as Camden stared at her in the dim light.
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ashalaughs · 7 years ago
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An Annotated List of Quotations From Men's Tinder Profiles part 5
It’s been a long time/ I shouldna left you...Friends, I have decided once again to share with you my commentary on the wild world of Tinder’s most inexplicable dudes. For those joining us for the first time, this is an annotated list of actual quotations from men’s tinder profiles, loosely ranked from the mildly confusing to the most obnoxious/absurd. Enjoy.
1. I like touching things, asking why and red wine: This might be the profile of an alcoholic toddler?
2. I am here to wake you up so you may become YOU. Getting Back to Nature. Know Thyself! Seek The Truth & Nothing But The Truth. Love YourCellf: I didn’t realize tinder was the place to go to offer strangers self-actualization. Also, I didn’t bother to transcribe the 25 emojis interspersed in this profile. 
3. Softty in a though shell. Crack me open and ull see what is at my core...a whole bunch of CHEEEEEEEZZZZZ!!!!: This dude is not calm about his own cheesiness. 
4. Also you can call me cake boy, cuz I go straight to your ass (cake emoji, cake emoji, pig emoji): He cannot let you go another second without knowing of his passion for rimming
5. Just like the delivery man, i am out standing: You tried to be clever. You failed, but you did try. 
6. Juggalette friendly: Well, good for you, my friend. Someone has to be, I guess.
7. I can’t die a virgin: Oh, but you can.
8. Hard to find a good man now a days!: Thanks for the reminder?
9. I got suspended for watching porn in grade 8: Cool story, bro. 
10. Searching for friends on Tinder is like searching for a plumber fixing tubes on Pornhub: This is not a very successful simile. 
11. “He’s hung like Jon” - said the Horse: Look, don’t bring any talking horses into your poor seduction attempts, man. 
12. Something you should also keep in mind is that as we grow, we learn that even the one person that wasn’t supposed to ever let you down probably will.You will have you heart broken probably more than once and its harder everytime. You’ll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken...So take too many pic: This conclusion is kind of a let down after that lecture. How will taking too many pic solve heartbreak?
13. I’m looking for someone who stands out in a crowd where every girl looks the same: No one else is to blame for your poor eyesight, my guy.
14. MAYBE ONE DAY I CALL YOU BY YOUR NAME, WHICH WILL BE “WIFE”...FUTURE GOALS:): Does this guy think a woman’s name becomes wife when she gets married? Also, gross. 
15. I just want to meet a girl that if the condom breaks and you get pregnant, that I wouldn’t be terribly upset by that outcome: I can’t decide whether this guy should aim higher or lower or just read up on the morning after pill. 
16. Boning. Things of that nature: What is of the nature of boning other than boning?
17. Yo i know all you girls have a whole lineup of dudes who your talking to but ill tell you right now im not: not what? Lining up dudes to talk to? Allowing yourself to be lined up? Willing to adhere to any rules of spelling or grammar?
18. If you use a Presto Pass. Don’t talk to me. Ruins my day seeing that ugly ass pass: This fragile fella must have very few good days. 
19. Fun facts: Banging your head against a wall burns 150 calories an hour. Hitler’s mother considered abortion but the doctor persuaded her to keep the baby. In India it is cheaper to have sex with a prostitue than buy a condom: The categorization of these as “fun” and “facts” is deeply suspect. 
20. If She smokes she pokes: This is on the profile of a guy who claims to have studied “community welfare” and “justice,” so, promising. 
21. I have a tattoo of a cat licking a molotov cocktail and a Canadian Goose with a winter toque on...I think that sums me up pretty good: Okay, I would like to see these tattoos because they sound simultaneously amazing and hideous, but an interpretation of what they actually say about him could go in a bunch of different directions. 
22. I wish I was born in the 40’s where women were ladies, men were gentlemen and sophistication was alive and well: This dude is bad at math. Being born in the 40’s means being of dating/marrying age mostly in the ‘60s. Your nostalgia is not only eye roll worthy, it isn’t even based on stereotypes about the right time period. Also enjoy having your dad die in WWII, punk.  
23. There are three kinds of people. The scholars, the seekers of knowledge and all the others are a waste of humanity: woah, pretty judgey claim for a dude who works as an actor at somewhere called “Spookers Haunted Attraction”. 
24. Saving the world, one hate fuck at a time: (From the profile of a couple). This seems like a bad strategy. 
25. Non-Beta, Non-clingy male. I’m battle hardened and can handle what life tosses my way. I also have your body mastered. Ive had four sums, public sex, into bdsm & making sure every woman understands my sexual prowess. Oh and I’m an electrical engineering student: Look buddy, how could you possibly have every woman you have never met on tinder’s body “mastered”? Also, having every woman in Toronto understand your sexual prowess seems like a tiring and useless goal that will take away from your electrical engineering time.
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becomingstrong1289 · 8 years ago
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5/17/17
Ive been sad lately. I’ve been sad for a long time. Years i think. Maybe decades at this point. Life is so hard. This bipolar thing is really starting to make sense. Its like I’m so depressed and then i get an energy about me and i want to do everything all at once and then i get too overwhelmed and irritated and go right back down to depressed. Is it normal to feel like this. It surely is affecting my life. My job is on its last leg, my relationship with Shawn is all over the place, i lose it with the kids and dont have enough energy to be what they need. But this is who ive always been. In highschool i was a depressed mess. Growing up the way i did really didn’t give me a good baseline. is that possible to not have a healthy baseline. 
Work: My plan has been for awhile, go to coding and find a job in that. Annie said it started at $17/hr. Eventually figure out how to go home to work. Once Owen is in school go back for nursing at Saint Anthony’s for my bachelors. It seems so easy. Cardiology is just a cluster fuck with a lot a lot of attitude. I hope this new girl comes in and makes it back to the way it was. I was thinking about attempting to take over putting on holters. Maybe that will get the nurses off my back. Its just unfair to me that i spend so much time on something that isnt necessary and then on a whim get asked to do something for someone else when no one is willing to help me. They only room pts if it is absolutely necessary. I guess nursing is all in the computer now. They cant even look away for a moment. i know there are better ways to deal with things. Today i wanted to figure out how i was going to take a lunch break. That meant asking Tana for help. But she had a meeting at noon and wouldnt be back until 3. So i thought i was fucked. She said i could go at 11, i was so negative and pessimistic i didnt see any other option. I feel like ive been sick for 3 weeks and its bringing me down. I got strep, the antibiotics affected me very negatively, and then i thought i was pregnant for like 2 weeks. One test even came out slightlly positive. Then i finally get my period and it is awful. The pain today was almost enough to make me go home. My body is throwing me for a loop. Im scared to take this stupid medicine for my thyroid, i feel sick, i have a fever constantly, my head is crazy, i have depression and anxiety, this divorce is killing me, i dont want it, i never did but its just happening anyway. i got the paper work. josh is starting to become a stranger to me. its just the weirdest feeling i hate being a single mom of two kids. im so tired and stretched thin. i put all my effort into things like cooking healthy and making sure they bath and brush their teeth twice a day correctly and doing natalies hair nicely and keeping my house clean for us. i see other people who dont do these things. Jodie said i should be more proud of myself for what i do. its hard to be proud and exhausted. is it worth the effort. are there things my energy could be put forth. is health and hygiene and cleanliness so important. Im so down, its getting harder and harder to see the joy in things. im so scare of getting on antidepressants. i dont want to be a zombie. i dont want the sexual dysfunction that comes along with that. I guess i just need to get through work and do everything i can. if someone asks me to do something, just do it. if i get behind on charts, just work until i get it done. if i have to not take a lunch break to get it done, then thats how it will be. a new coworker and a new boss might help the situation. who knows. im scared of the future i have there. i know i had it cushy with jeanette. i dont see it being like that with Laura. Bosses named laura are always “fun”.... just work hard. get yourself out of this rut. stop talking about outside life too. just focus on work. stop with your phone. i deleted fb off my phone. i need a break from that. dont let them see me on my phone. be perfect so theres nothing they can say. fake it til you make it i guess. 
Kids: Owen is thriving i think. Hes a good little boy, eats well, understands and communicated well, funny and loving. Natalie is a ball of anxiety. i want so much to get into her head. my goal was to always have an open relationship with my kids that they would be able to tell me anything. that is definitely not the way it is. She doesn’t tell me anything. Its all a secret and then i get made because its a secret. Today she had an accident and tried to hide it from me. she trashed my bathroom. Im not sure why my 6 year old is having accidents. thats scary in its own right. i am perpetually scare my kids could get molested or something without me ever knowing about it. anyway, i got mad when i went into the bathroom and saw what she had done. there was shit everywhere. just everywhere. Later when things were calmed and she did her punishment i asked her why she has been getting in trouble at school. she opened up when i asked if she needed more attention. she actually got emotional about it. she doesn’t think her teacher spends enough time with her, she doesn’t get enough play time, and the recess people are mean to her. She genuinely teared up over it. i asked her what she needed from me. she wants me to play more games with her. i bought a deck of cards a few days ago, i was going to teach her how to play some games. its so hard to fit all of it into a night. i get home at 530. i have to make dinner by 630. its been nice so weve been spending a little time outside. soon ill have my garden i would like to stop there a few times a week before we go home. anyway. 645 is bath time. They stay in there for about 30 mins 715. then its time to relax. I guess this is a good time to read books. Im so freaking tired by this point. but 715 to 730 would be good for books. and 730 to 8 would be good for games with natalie. sometimes they have been going to bed later. for 730-45 for books and 745=815 for games. by 83o everyone is in bed. i guess ill see how that goes tomorrow. i want the one on one time with natalie and owen. i enjoy it so much. i love friday afternoons with owen. its amazing to have him all to myself. and then when me and natalie are alone its really nice too. we need more of it. i dont know how to be someone she can come to honestly and authorative. i want a relationship that she knows the rules but stays open about if she broke them and takes responsibility for it. I have no idea what any of that looks like in real life. Maybe that kind of thing only exists in movies and adulthood. im her mom, not her friend, i know that but i need her to feel comfortable talking to me and she isnt. The mental health group class i went to talked about “has anyone taught you how to deal with being sad”. No one taught me. it was looked down upon if i was sad or emotional. it annoyed my mom and she made me go away. i remember when my aunt died. i was fine until i saw her daughter and realized she didnt have a mom anymore and i wanted to cry but i had to excuse myself because i was taught inadvertently that is how you deal with sad. i didnt even feel comfortable crying at a funeral. thats sad. and even now, my sadness is isolation, crying alone and hiding everything. and how guilty i feel, just this weekend natalie got sad that we were going to pull out her tooth with plyers, we said it as a joke, and she started crying. i asked her why she was crying but she just clammed up. i was so frustrated i sent her to her room. im my mind i thought it would be a way for her to cool off but now i think if i would have just given her a hug and reassured her we were just kidding she may have opened up to me. im going to put more effort into her. 45 mins per night will be directly spent with them and only them. Im not going to take it away if they were bad. we need time together whether they misbehaved or not. i need to research better discipline methods. besides beating children i was never taught how to properly discipline a kid. time out was good before but natalie is too old for that now. i know things like cleaning and going to bed shouldnt be a punishment because then cleaning and going to bed normally will always be a punishment. i take away her snack but that makes me scared she’ll see food as a reward also. just how the fuck do i discipline a kid that doesn’t affect the rest of her life. one guy i knew made his kid run when she was bad. well i bet exercise will be a punishment when she gets old and shell die of heart disease from being sedentary her whole life. im going to bed. i hope getting some of this out of my head makes for a better tomorrow. 
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