#just at the “its probably not cancer but house refuses to explain why he wants wilson on the case otherwise” part

[thepandalion]

update:

I.

"two paragraphs" is three pages. apparently

in less than an hour btw I spent like half an hour now scrolling tumblr instead of writing

celebrating my successful interaction with a real human person by writing the first two paragraphs I have for the house md casefic featuring actual dog people and also whatever the fuck is wrong with these guys

[angellesword]

LET GO | JHS (02)

You live in a world where people hear the thoughts of their soulmates inside their head. For others, it’s romantic. Actually, you thought the same way too. But what if the person bound to you turns out to be your adoptive brother? What if…Hoseok, your soulmate, sees you as his little sister and nothing more?

Alternatively:

“From stereo to mono—that’s how the path splits.”

Genre: soulmate au, fantasy au, angst, fluff, adoptive brother au, slow burn, slice of life, hurt and comfort, coming of age.

Pairing: Foster brother!Hoseok x Younger sister!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k (Chapter 2: Sunset and Sunrise)

Warnings: unhealthy way of coping up with loss, mention of death, (Namjoon broke his neck and back, broken limbs) child trauma, fear of abandonment, baby jungkook is abandoned and found in a dumpster.

Chapter’s OST: Sunset by DAVICHI

← Previous

The jealousy and bitterness clouding your mind and heart were the two reasons why you spent your whole life wishing Namjoon to be gone, but now that your wish came true, you suddenly found yourself hoping you had the power to turn back time.

It was strange.

Strange because you knew your brother was gone, yet all you could see and hear was him.

It's like he's everywhere:

you opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was your brother sitting by the fireplace, reading a book and flipping through its pages. It was eerie because the image of him looked so real. You swore you could even hear him sipping his favorite coffee and then complaining right after because it was hot and his tongue and lips burned.

Idiot.

Namjoon was an idiot who always drank hot coffee and flinched away, dropping the cup and causing its content to stain the pages of his book. He was an idiot who was also a genius. You remembered how his face turned red, the veins on his neck were angry as he explained to your mother why she should allow him to continue drinking black coffee.

"Eomma! Did you know that black coffee is rich in antioxidants? Drinking this reduces risk of cancer and heart disease!"

Namjoon had always been an eloquent speaker. He could rebut any argument and make you change your mind—your mind that had never been radio silent ever since your brother died. There's always someone fucking you in the head, whispering and taunting you until you wished you're the one who's dead instead.

But you weren't.

You were still here.

And so was Namjoon. As said, he's everywhere.

You could see him in your parents: he was the hatred and anger threatening to ruin their relationship.

"This is all your fault! He would still be alive if you only looked after him!"

"It's an accident! Do you think I'll harm my own child!?"

"But you did, asshole! You killed my son! His blood is in your hands!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Namjoon was the vase, thrown by your mother because he wanted to hurt your father. She blamed him for the death of your brother.

Should she really blame your father? Or just you?

Namjoon was in your head too, telling you that maybe, your wish should've come true. You should be dead, not him.

He had big dreams. He was going to be an engineer. He could build houses for people.

And you? What could you do?

"You ruin homes."

Namjoon's mocking laugh echoed in your head.

"You ruin families."

He was looking at you as if you failed everyone.

"You ruin your own family."

If you only agreed to go to the orphanage, your brother would probably still be alive. You could've looked after him, you could have prevented him from slipping and falling down the cliff.

That's what the grownups said. It's snowing hard and Namjoon, being the clumsy boy that he was, slipped. He was careless. He refused to wear his graded glasses because he claimed that the stupid winter wind was causing it to fog up.

The winter wind wasn't stupid.

Namjoon was the stupid one. How could he wander around the mountain without his glasses on? It's like going to war without a weapon.

But Namjoon wasn't going to war. No, not really. He only went out because he wanted to help Hoseok, his orphan best friend, to get some firewood.

Yoongi, their other best friend, was usually the one who did this. He was busy helping in the kitchen that time though, leaving Hoseok no choice but to do it himself. He couldn't ask anyone else. The other kids were way younger than him so obviously, they couldn't chop wood.

"I'll help you, Hobi." Namjoon offered. He didn't have anything better to do anyway. Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung didn't want to play board games with him. They even called Namjoon boring. Brats.

"Ah, I don't know about that, Namjoon-ah. I can't exactly trust you with an axe." To be honest, neither should Hoseok be entrusted with an axe. He's only twelve years old, but Mr. Wang, the man who ran the orphanage, trained Hoseok and the other orphans to chop wood.

Hope World orphanage was situated at the mountain. This was because most of the kids were traumatized and forced to do labor in the city. Mr. Wang figured that they needed a new scenery, a place where they could breathe fresh air and forget the bad moments they had before they were brought to the orphanage. Aside from this, Mr. Wang also had a logging business. Sometimes the orphans helped him. As a matter of fact, some of those who had reached the majority age chose to work for Mr. Wang instead of leaving the orphanage.

They were happy and content at Hope World.

"Yah, Hobi! Don't be like that." Namjoon snorted, offended that his best friend didn't think he was man enough to chop wood. "Let me go with you. I wanna explore this place too."

Your brother loved nature. He always felt at peace whenever he was surrounded by trees. He even asked you and his friends to call him Namu. It means tree in Hangul.

However, your mother never allowed him to leave the vicinity of Hope World. There were steep cliffs in this area. The kids weren't given a chance to explore too. They always needed an adult to accompany them, sadly there were limited volunteers these days.

People found it taxing to go to Hope World because of its complicated location. Truthfully, your family members were one of the few people who went to visit this orphanage from time to time.

"I wanna go too!" Jungkook interjected the conversation while clutching the hem of Namjoon's sweater. Jungkook was so small. He liked your brother a lot because Namjoon was the one who saved him.

Jungkook was nearly dead when Namjoon found him near a dumpster. Jungkook was just two years old at that time. He was abandoned by his family. Your sibling did a good job calling 9-1-1 and telling them what he knew.

Jungkook was eventually brought to Hope World. No one knew who his parents were. Poor boy was treated like trash.

"You can't go with us, Kookie. It's dangerous out there." It's funny because your brother already knew how risky it was to go outside, yet he still chose not to take care of himself.

Namjoon ended up convincing Hoseok to let him chop some woods out there. He was practically shaking with excitement to the point that he forgot to wear his scarf, his bonnet, and jacket.

Hoseok only realized this when his best friend visibly quivered because of the cold.

"Yah, Namjoon-ah. Why didn't you wear your jacket?" Hoseok scowled, feeling the thin fabric of Namjoon's sweater between his fingers as they walked. "You're not even wearing your glasses. Are you an idiot?"

Hoseok groaned, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he didn't notice. Namjoon knew a lot of amazing stuff, but he was slow when it came to doing basic things—like taking care of himself. Hoseok always had to remind him to tie his shoelace, to put sunscreen on, and to do other similar things. But today, as stated, he forgot to tell Namjoon to wear his winter clothes because he was too busy assuring Jungkook and the other kids that they'd be back soon. Taehyung threw a tantrum, saying that he wanted to chop wood with them too.

Of course Hoseok didn't agree. Dealing with Namjoon was already difficult. He didn't need more kids to slow down his workload, luckily your father offered to keep Taehyung and the others company. He had more soulmate stories to tell them. It hooked the kids, especially Jimin. Apparently, he's been hearing voices inside his head these past few weeks.

Some kids were born lucky. They're already able to hear the voice of their soulmates despite their young age.

Namjoon envied them. He wanted to hear his soulmate too.

"When will we hear our soulmate, Hobi?" Your brother exhaled loudly. He was sitting on the edge of a cliff while his best friend was chopping wood. Hoseok told your brother not to help him. He couldn't entrust Namjoon with an axe, certainly not when he wasn't wearing his glasses. He might accidentally chop his hands.

"Namjoon-ah, you're in a very dangerous spot. Can't you just come sit next to me?" He asked, ignoring your brother's question. He couldn't concentrate on chopping wood since he was worried about Namjoon.

What if he fell? The cliff was steep.

There's another reason why he refused to answer your brother's query though:

you.

Hoseok was afraid to reveal to Namjoon that he already knew who his soulmate was.

It's you.

You were Hoseok's soulmate.

He knew the moment he heard your thoughts inside his head. How couldn't he be aware? You always complained about your brother and Namjoon always told Hoseok stories about you and how much he adored you. Despite this, your soulmate was scared.

There's no doubt that Namjoon would accept him; however, he couldn't say the same for you. What if you hated the fact that he was an orphan? It made sense, right? You never wanted to visit Hope World. As a matter of fact, you always sneered whenever Namjoon and your mother went to the orphanage.

You probably hated orphans.

Hoseok couldn't bear the thought of you pushing him away because of it, so he made a promise to himself that he'd only tell you his name once he was adopted.

Fortunately, he was getting adopted.

Maybe this was the perfect time to tell Namjoon. He hadn't said anything to anyone yet, not even to Yoongi.

Especially not to Yoongi...

"Joon, just come here. Will you?" Hoseok stopped chopping wood, suddenly in the mood to come clean to his best friend.

Namjoon was a snitch. Whenever he got excited, he would say things without thinking. But for some reason, Hoseok felt like this was the perfect time to be honest.

"But I'm watching the sunset, Hobi." Namjoon reasoned out. He liked sitting on the edge of the cliff. It made him powerful and free.

Hoseok winced though. There were still a few minutes left before the sun set. He felt like Namjoon just didn't want to go near him because he was afraid he'd just berate him for not wearing his jacket and bonnet. Namjoon was still shivering. He didn't want Hoseok to see his red ears and trembling lips.

"Liar. You're not wearing your glasses so I know you can't see anything." Hoseok snickered.

"My eyes aren't that blurry!" Namjoon huffed, defending himself. But his annoyance immediately evaporated upon seeing the sun rapidly setting. Your brother wasn't lying when he said his eyes weren't that blurry. He was farsighted. He could visibly see the sun going down the horizon.

"Hobi! Come watch the sunset with me!"

Perhaps it's because the woods in this area were hard to chop, or maybe it was the way your brother beam that convinced Hoseok to drop his axe and scurry where Namjoon was. Either way, Hoseok realized he wanted to watch the breathtaking view with his best friend

"It's beautiful..." Hoseok mumbled as his mind drifted to you. Did you like sunsets as much as your brother did? Or did you prefer sunrise more? You seemed to be the type of person who liked new beginnings. You know, the light and the warmth.

Above these trivial thoughts, however, was a greater question about you that's bugging Hoseok's mind: would you accept him as your soulmate?

"I'm getting adopted..." He found himself saying, obviously carried away from the sudden assault of emotions as he watched the sunset. Admittedly, it surprised him how easy it was to reveal to your brother that he was getting adopted.

New beginnings.

He found light when Mr. Wang told him there's a childless married couple who wanted to adopt him. Hoseok also experienced warmth in his chest when the thought of having a new loving family entered his mind.

It felt surreal to think that there were people who wanted him.

"Hobi..." There's an inexplicable emotion swimming in Namjoon's heart. He's usually level-headed, as in always able to identify what he was feeling, but this was the first time he experienced something out of this world.

What was the best way to describe the feeling of his heart swelling with positive emotions? The feeling of finding out you're holding your breath for the longest time and now, you're finally able to release it?

That's what Namjoon felt.

He's very happy for Hoseok. The saying 'your success is mine,' finally made sense to your brother.

"Mr. and Mrs. Min—" Hoseok smiled as he uttered the name of his future parents. Would it feel weird to call them Eomma and Appa soon?

The Min couple had been visiting the orphanage for months now. They wanted to get to know all the kids first before choosing who to adopt. Apparently they liked Hoseok the most. He's matured (for his age), well-mannered, and sociable. Hoseok swept Mrs. Min off her feet when he broke into his infamous heart-shaped smile.

He's really beautiful.

"—will adopt me soon. Mr. Wang said they're already preparing for it." He continued to say.

Despite being surprised, Namjoon still managed to ask, "that soon?" His eyes filled with worry. "Do the kids know?" Hoseok was one of the 'adult' kids in Hope World. He would be missed if he left. Many children relied on him. He's actually the life of the orphanage. Everything seemed to turn dull without him. "And what did Yoongi-hyung say?"

Yoongi was like Hoseok's twin brother even though the former was almost a year older than the latter. They're basically inseparable. The older boy claimed that Hoseok was the source of his energy. Truthfully, the other kids said the same thing about Hoseok as well. His energy was really unparalleled.

"I haven't told him yet." Hoseok forced a smile, casting his gaze down. He had no idea how to tell Yoongi about this news, mainly because it appeared like his older friend suffered from fear of abandonment.

"But our hyungie hates secrets." frowned by Namjoon.Yoongi didn't like surprises either. He preferred knowing things so he could prepare for the possible outcomes.

"I know," your soulmate let out a breath while involuntarily touching his ears, a habit he developed whenever he was talking about serious stuff. "What should I say to him?"

Hoseok was expecting Namjoon to use his big brain and tell him these grand things that wouldn't make Yoongi hate him, sadly the only thing that your brother had said was to "just be honest, Hobi."

There's no other way to do it. Yoongi would still be sad, but Namjoon was sure it wouldn't last long because their oldest friend never held grudges.

"I'll tell him tonight." Hoseok decided.

The sun had already set but he and Namjoon were still sitting on the edge of the cliff, enjoying the view and breathing in the winter wind.

"Your nose is red. You look like Rudolf." He teased your brother. He lost his smile, however, when he saw that Namjoon's teeth were chattering. He might get cold if he didn't go back to the vicinity of Hope World now.

Unfortunately Namjoon was stubborn. He said he wouldn't go back to the orphanage unless Hoseok was with him. Your soulmate wasn't done chopping woods though.

"You're really an idiot!" Hoseok huffed in annoyance. He didn't have a choice but to shrug off his jacket and put it on Namjoon's shoulder. He also removed his scarf and bonnet to envelope your brother with warmth.

"You didn't have to do this." Namjoon groaned in exasperation too. He felt like he was a kid being scolded by his parents. Hoseok had always been like a big brother to him despite them being born in the same year.

"Just wait for me here, okay?" It was snowing hard. The place was turning black now that the sun had set. "I'll be back in a while..."

Namjoon nodded his head, already embarrassed with the situation. He didn't want to burden Hoseok more.

He said he'd be quick anyway. Hoseok would make a quick run in the forest to get firewood. It would take him more time if he settled with the woods in this area. It's hard to chop. Mr. Wang said that the best firewoods were found in the center of the forest so that's where he sprinted. Moving his body helped with the cold weather too.

It took Hoseok a short period of time to gather some firewood. He was happily humming while making his way to where he left Namjoon.

"Joon, look what I got!" Your soulmate was beaming with excitement, eyes focused on the edge of the cliff.

But there's no one there.

Namjoon wasn't there.

Did he leave already? Couldn't he tolerate the cold any longer?

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. Maybe that's it. Regrettably, Yoongi proved him wrong.

"Yah, Hoba! Where have you been?" A very flushed Yoongi appeared in the scene. His hands were shaking because of the cold. Yoongi was always grumpy, but he looked grumpier tonight. "Where's Namjoon? I've been looking for you guys. It's so cold here."

Yoongi was obviously worried for his two best friends, but Hoseok was only worried about one of his friends.

"N-Namjoon isn't back at the orphanage?" For some reason, Hoseok felt his throat close up. He felt his heart constricted as discomfort settled to the pit of his stomach.

Why did he suddenly feel sick?

"He wasn't there when I left. Why?" Yoongi picked up the horror in Hoseok's face. He felt dread consuming him too.

"Yah, Hoseok...." Yoongi swallowed thickly. He could feel his heart in his throat. "W-Where is Namjoon?"

Instead of answering, Hoseok dropped the firewood and then he ran towards the edge of the cliff. He only stopped when he's so close to falling.

Falling.

Hoseok wanted to puke. He felt cold all over.

Falling.

Hoseok's tears fell. It didn't even roll down his cheeks. It just fell on the ground that's now covered with a thin layer of snow. He briefly wondered if this was how Namjoon fell too?

Fast and hard, breaking his neck and back.

Falling.

The fall killed him instantly and brutally.

"The fall killed him instantly and brutally," was what the authorities managed to grasp after getting Hoseok and Yoongi's statement.

Falling.

At the age of twelve, Namjoon fell and then he died.

Just like that. Just like how the sun rises and sets. Fast. Approximately one hundred twenty seconds. Hoseok wondered again if Namjoon knew what was happening.

How long before he realized he's dying? When did he know? Was it when he was mid-air? Or right after he slipped?

Did it even take one hundred twenty seconds before he fell and broke his neck?

One hundred twenty seconds.

Huh.

It's a funny number for Hoseok now.

One hundred twenty seconds. It took one hundred twenty seconds for the sun to set, less than sixty seconds for Namjoon to fall and die, and an eternity for you and Hoseok to move on with your life.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 7 - Golden Chains

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @sunwoowuvbot​ @suzy-rainbow​​

"Everyone wants everything she has.”

Juyeon raises his fist, Porsche parked nicely in the only empty lot of three by the fountain before the mini mansion. The sky is cloudy and Juyeon can already smell the musty scent of rain as the gentle cool winds blow through his still-waxed hair. 

His knuckles press into the wooden door before he actually knocks, and he almost feels sorry for himself for being such a nuisance at the worst timings ever.

Finally mustering the courage to knock, he does just that, and he can see the lights in the entrance hall flicker on through the door panels by the sides after some time. Multiple locks click open, and the door opens just enough for the resident to see him.

“Juyeon,” Sunwoo blinks, already in his silk pajamas and his hair combed down nicely. He looks tired - probably from the day’s work of being Juyeon’s moodmaker at his own wedding. “What are you doing here? Oh my God, you got kicked out of the Lee’s House?”

“What? No!” The elder seethes quietly, his pride hurt. “I left.”

Sunwoo’s brows are covered by his fringe, but Juyeon doesn’t need to see them to know they are far up his forehead with amusement. 

“You left the Lee House?” 

“Yeah,” Juyeon sucks in a deep breath and avoids eye contact. “My mother told me she wanted me to have a child with Jang Won just so we can inherit HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“Oh, man,” Sunwoo’s face falls with pity and confusion. “That... that’s gotta suck.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Sunwoo pulls the door open for Juyeon to enter, head poking out the door to see the Porsche parked in his driveway. “You can stay if you like but I’m afraid people are gonna find out you’re here and not back at your place or Hera’s Manor.”

Juyeon pulls off his shoes and slips on a pair of home slippers meant for guests. The entrance hall is a lot less spacious and elaborate compared to the Lee House’s or Hera’s Manor, but it’s because of its smaller scale that comforts Juyeon. Feels more like a home than an exhibition.

The door shuts and Sunwoo pulls the locks back into place. 

“I know, but I just didn’t know where else to be. I can’t stand being in that house.”

“Okay, so you hate your parents. We know this, but do you really have nowhere else to be at now?”

Juyeon turns and shoots Sunwoo a look of displeasure. The younger pouts slightly as he passes him and heads for the main hall. The fireplace crackles to life when he turns it on.

Dropping himself into the couch and staring at the fire, Juyeon pulls off his blazer and covers his face with it. The cushion next to him sinks when Sunwoo sits, quiet and unsure.

“It’s not that I don’t want you here. I just don’t want to risk you getting into trouble with the press. Everybody knows the Porsche’s carplate number. And aren’t all your cars bugged?”

“I removed the bug.”

“What? How? How did you even find it?”

“The one in the Porsche was under the compartment on the passenger’s side.”

“Did you like, throw it on the ground and drive over it or something?”

“I threw it at my bodyguard.”

Sunwoo snorts. “Were your parents around to see that?”

“Yeah, my dad was this close,” Juyeon lifts a hand and gestures with his thumb and index finger. “To punching a hole through the driver’s window, so I threw it out the passenger’s window instead.”

The hearty laugh that runs out of Sunwoo’s throat tickles Juyeon as well. “I’m not gonna lie, this is something you definitely wouldn’t have done prior.”

“Prior to?”

Juyeon pulls the blazer off his face and side-eyes Sunwoo. The answer was already in his eyes.

“Ah,” Juyeon scoffs. “Maybe it just bugs me that my mother was in the same position as Jang Won is now - an arranged marriage - and yet she’s telling me to do all these things to her... a child, taking HERA & ARTEMIS.”

“Don’t you think you’re developing too much of a soft spot for her already?”

“Why does everyone think that way?” Frowning, Juyeon finally sits up in the couch. “Poor girl lost her mother to cancer and then her father who only comes back from the dead, only to take what she built - does that make sense at all?”

“It doesn’t, but you seem to forget that she’s got the entire world at her feet. Even if your families harmoniously merged, I’m very sure she still wouldn’t give away her blood and sweat so easily.”

Juyeon sighs and drags his hands down his face, feeling the weight from the day sink into him. “I just... I can’t imagine. She’s... got questionable motifs, no doubt, but... when I spoke to Younghoon today, I... He made me promise to protect her and be patient with her, and now I see exactly why.”

He pauses and looks at the cracking fire. 

“Everyone wants everything she has, and she knows that herself.”

Jang Won yawns and crawls into bed, stretching her neck from left to right as she tightens silk night gown around her waist. She fiddles with the ring on her left hand, diamond sparkling under the amber lights of her room. 

Memory sends her back to earlier that day - to when Juyeon pulled her out of that sickening interaction with misogynist Mr Teuk, only to call her a hypocrite in her own office. 

She harshly exhales, pulling out the ring and placing it by the nightstand. Her feet shuffles under the sheets, cool and heavy and all she wants to do is to slip into forever. If only.

But a gentle knock ensues on her door, and she groans in frustration, shutting her eyes to regulate her lack of sleep.

“What is it?”

“Miss Kim, there’s a call for you, and I’m afraid you’ll have to entertain it.”

She rams her face into her pillow when she recognises Mr Ro’s calmness. She’ll never yell at him for anything in the world. 

“Can’t it wait till morning?”

“Uh, well... I’m afraid not, Miss Kim. It’s your husband.”

“Oh- my God!” She screams into her pillow, refusing to leave her bed even more now. “What is it that’s so fucking urgent?!”

The door finally clicks open and Mr Ro kindly pokes his head in, eyes furrowing at the lady of the house huddled into the thick sheets of her bed. She turns subtly, enough for one of her eyes to see Mr Ro’s head through the gap of the door.

“He, um, ran away from home. He’d like to stay for the night... or rather, until you leave for your honeymoon next week.”

Jang Won frowns, neurons in her head struggling to fit themselves together. She sits up. “What? Juyeon... ran away from home?”

He nods enough for her to see, and a strange sense of protection wells her stomach. 

“Give me the phone,” She stretches out her palm and beckons Mr Ro over to her bed. The butler was already dressed in his own pajamas, so she can’t help but smile softly at how cute he looked. 

And yet, she displays the magic of a 180 degree change as she presses the phone to her ear, “What the FUCK is wrong with you?! Do you have any FUCKING idea how late it is?!”

“Oh!” Mr Ro anxiously waves his hands at her. “It’s Mr Kim Sunwoo on the line, Jang Won!”

Her eyes widen, and she winces into the phone, taking a pillow to gently whack Mr Ro. 

“Yeah, hear that, Juyeon? Do you have any idea what time it is now? Anyway, hi. It’s Kim Sunwoo, in case your butler hasn’t told you.”

“Right, right, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry about that, just come and take your husband back to Hera’s Manor. He’s homeless and I can’t risk him being seen here. He drove his car here.”

“What? Isn’t his car bugged with a tracking device?”

“He ripped it out, but the whole press knows his car plate number so if he’s spotted here, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to answer why there’s a man involved in your marriage.”

Jang Won huffs with irritation. “Fine. I’ll send someone over to drive him back to Hera’s Manor. Why’s he homeless now anyway?”

Sunwoo laughs dryly over the phone. “His parents. What else?”

Jang Won twists the receiver away from her mouth and turns to Mr Ro. “Is the second master or the other guest room made up?”

“The second master is being used to house your clothes and items for your honeymoon, and the other guestroom is currently being used by your father.”

“What? My father? What the fuck’s he doing in the-”

“Uh, would you like a word with him? Maybe you could snap him out of his nonsensical act right now that’s putting him and you in various difficult situations.”

“Ugh, get someone to watch my father in the second guest room! We’ll clear him out tomorrow, and send someone down to Kim Sunwoo’s residence now! I want Lee Juyeon in Hera’s Manor in 30!” She twists the phone back so the receiver is at her mouth. “Get him on the phone. I’ll scream his ear off.”

“He says he’ll explain when he gets there- hey, give that back- wha-” 

BEEP

Jang Won removes the phone from her ear just as Mr Ro shuts the door behind him. Rubbing her temples to cure the headache that’s forming in her skull, she reminds herself that her newly wed husband cannot be brutally murdered the night of her wedding. 

“My God,” She huffs exasperatedly, side-eyeing Mr Ro. “Men.”

“Shall I call someone down to drive you there or-”

“No, just send a guard to tail my car but you just stay home and clear the second guest room.”

“Your father won’t be able to clear it out by the time Mr Lee is here, Jang Won.”

She halts in the midst of throwing on full-length coat. “Are you telling me that I might need to share this bed-”

“Possibly, yes.”

The groan that escapes her throat is loud, annoying and absolutely a bomb of a ruin to the rest of her night. “Fine. But get me a bolster. I don’t want him anywhere near 30 centimeters of me.”

Jang Won can’t exactly remember the last time she’s got her fingers around the steering wheel, but she sure as Hell felt the freedom when she didn’t have to worry about telling the chauffeur where she was headed off to. 

The Mercedes tailing her car was driven by one of Hera’s Manor’s bodyguards, and so she makes sure to stay a good distance away from it since the press is also aware of her car plate number.

She parks her Audi right next to the Porsche, and the Manor’s Mercedes almost at the entrance where it leads up to the fountain and the roundabout. There’s no hesitation in slamming the door and almost running her entire fist through the door (if she could) to make her presence known.

“ROOM FUCKING SERVICE FOR MR LEE JUYEON. GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

Almost immediately, she can hear someone shuffling for the door, and it swings open to reveal Kim Sunwoo, a distant member of The Board. Peering over Sunwoo’s shoulder, she can see the reluctance dripping off her husband as he peels himself off the sofa, still in his clothes he had left in. 

“You went home and didn’t bother to take a shower?” She sneers, but Juyeon cannot give two damns about her attitude right now. He finally reaches the party at the front door, noticing the Manor’s bodyguard driving the Mercedes up to meet the other cars. 

“I went home and got blasted with the suggestion of having a child with you, how’s that for a reason not to shower?” He frowns, trudging past her for the Porsche. 

Jang Won watches his back head down the steps, getting into his own car and prepare himself at the wheel with a look of contempt in his eyes. She turns to thank Sunwoo with a mere nod, before heading down the steps herself and getting into the Porsche. The plan was to have the Manor’s Mercedes left at Kim’s Residence while her bodyguard drove her Audi, and she would be in the Porsche with Juyeon - all this to prevent any sort of complications if they were to be spotted by the press. 

The urge to scream at him for possibly ruining the perfect plan she had in store to debunk all the shit’s that gone down with her father has, surprisingly, diminished. Jang Won cannot decide what she’s more taken aback by - the fact that Juyeon left home because she had been unreasonably brought into discussion, or that he got scared by the thought of spending the rest of his life caring for a child with her. 

Of course, being the skeptical person she is, she chooses to believe the second option more than the first.

“Is the idea of having a child with me so horrible that you had to leave home?”

“A child should not be brought into the picture when we don’t even care about each other,” The weight in his voice kind of hurts her pride. He checks the side mirror as he turns around the corner. “Neither of us had a choice to be where we are today so... let’s not implicate any other prospective beings that might suffer from our decisions. I don’t want to be my parents and I’m sure as Hell you don’t want to be like your father.”

Juyeon checks the rear mirror, making sure that her bodyguard was tailing them in the Audi. It’s strange, to have some peace and quiet in the car as the whir of the air-conditioning hums through the vehicle. She’s looking out the passenger’s window and seeing everything outside as they drive past.

“Haven’t been to this neighbourhood before, have you?” 

She shakes her head, not bothering to turn to him. “No. I’ve only been hanging around the Manor and the Meridian Streets where you stay.”

A pause.

“Sunwoo’s grandfather was the first of his family to secure membership in The Board, that’s why the disparity.”

Jang Won’s eyes dart to Juyeon and tries to side-eye him, but he remains out of her view and she returns to the world outside. “He’s a new-blood?”

“Three-generations new,” Juyeon nods. “Haven’t met one, have you?”

“No. I grew up with people whose great-great-grandparents lived in the Joseon dynasty.”

“That would’ve been a fun time to be alive.”

“Only if you wanted to be executed for being a politician.”

Juyeon exhales through his nose.

Jang Won lets the atmosphere settle, feeling the gentle night seep into her after a long day. She wonders about Juyeon’s perception of her as a person, after everything’s been happening. 

“How did you meet Kim Sunwoo?”

“We went to the same high-school. I was two years his senior and we were in the same club, and by then, my parents had already begun to teach me the likings of The Board and even gave me a booklet with all the families who were involved with it. I remembered Sunwoo’s family being indicated near the back of the book because they were new-bloods, and from then, I remembered his face.”

“Wouldn’t you have been worried he’d use you to shift up the food chain?”

“Not everybody is as venomous as the ones we know. Sunwoo had no idea I was from the Lee family. Once, we were shooting hoops till late and his father had come to get him... and then Sunwoo had to watch his father bow to another student... and I could tell he hated it, and then he was almost as shocked as I was, but for completely different reasons.”

Jang Won doesn’t even notice she’s staring at Juyeon until he turns to her, looking straight at her in her eyes. The car stops at a red light, now just a few streets away from Hera’s Manor. He turns away first.

“And I had to watch him bow to me too, just because his father told him to... and it felt like shit,” Juyeon’s eyes are glimmering the shade of red from the traffic light as he looks ahead. His face reflected the amber hues of the street lamps and other stray vehicles still on the road. “I wanted a friend, but his father was treating me like something they shouldn’t even be talking to.”

“It has always been like that. The way The Board works... it’s a hierarchy within another and when you’re a new-blood...”

“Yeah. I know,” Juyeon sighs as he lifts the brakes. “Part of me wishes we weren’t born into this shitshow.”

A mirror. That’s what he is. Stand right opposite Younghoon and he’s nothing but someone who wishes the same - to be free from all the golden chains. 

[dreamingofscully]

5x07. “Emily” (part 2 of 2) - X-Files Rewatch

This... is an extremely long post. It not only involves "Emily" analysis but some creative thinking surrounding "Per Manum" from season 8, due to some inconsistencies surrounding the storylines in both. I think I have a fix though!

Scully's dream - walking by herself on some sort of desert - "Alone, as ever." I refuse to use the word that gets used in this series while talking about Scully's fertility here, even though I think this scene is is meant to allude to it. Gross.

It's one thing for Scully to have the knowledge that she cannot conceive and to think she has the possibility of adopting her sister's child. It's quite another to discover that Emily is hers, and possibly the only child that will ever be hers, and that she was created unwillingly out of trauma. 😥

She doesn’t hesitate to call Mulder. She needs to find out Emily's history, needs to KNOW to have power over it. She doesn't care too much about the implications - what led her to her daughter, hearing her sister's voice. It doesn't matter, all that she cares about is Emily.

I love that Scully told Emily about Mulder before he got there. He's important to her and will be just as much a part of Emily's life as he is in Scully's. I wonder what she told her?

The picture of Mulder seeing the two of them on the floor together. Emily's grin is eerily similar to Scully's. What must Mulder be thinking?

He's so good with kids, too. Wish we'd seen more daddy Mulder. Such a waste.

Mulder calls her out on why she didn't call him sooner. He's starting to push a bit more, be a bit more demanding and critical when she does things that don't make sense (but that he knows are pushing the boundaries for her in terms of her belief).

Scully wanting him as a witness in her adoption hearing. But Mulder says he should have declined because he doesn't want to see her hurt. 😥 He has a feeling this can only end badly.

Really shitty of Mulder to reveal the fact that he knew that Scully's ova were harvested during her abduction for the first time IN FRONT OF A JUDGE. Whyyyyy didn't he tell her this... oh, y'know... on the way over? So she's not sitting there with her mouth open completely vulnerable and exposed? it was necessary to tell the judge so that it would support Scully's adoption - that things were forcibly removed from her and then experimented with to create Emily. But he SHOULD HAVE TOLD HER BEFORE THIS. (I talk about this more in my analysis at the end.)

Scully looking back at Mulder in relief that Emily's still there, cut short by realizing she's sick. Mulder immediately taking her in his arms. 😥

"Are you two the parents?"

he subtle looks between themselves

then Scully saying she's the mother, even though its complicated - what else can she say without telling a stupidly long and complicated story?

Scully grasping Mulder's shoulder at the window & standing close, seeing what is happening with Emily in the room. Poor Emily, all alone in the room, causing someone else to be sick. 😥

Mulder going to Dr. Calderon and doing what he does (frustration manifesting as physical violence) while Scully stays by Emily's side.

"I want everything to help that little girl."

Scully in a mask. Her tenderness 😥 Her heart breaking when she has to put Emily in a scary situation - the sound of the machine.

The idea that she's found a child but now she's dying and will lose her. D:>

Threatening the social worker - ensuring she can still make decisions about Emily. Though she's not the most objective, she has the most knowledge about the strangeness surrounding her.

God Emily is so stinkin' cute. Scully makes cute babies.

Standing close outside Emily's room. Wanting to reassure Mulder despite what she's going through. HUG HER DAMNIT (though she'd probably not want him to right now).

He puts his arm around her, says he'll stay but Scully wants to be alone.

she doesn't want to be around him when she breaks down

this isn't about him, she can't spare any energy worrying about him

she can't let him in yet. Doesn't think he thinks of her in a romantic way and can't let him in out of pity. Needs to stay strong. Also she's pissed at him (see below).

At the funeral, Mulder wanting to comfort. Gazing.

Deep dive Emily analysis/fix. (Also “Per Manum” stuff.)

So there’s a contradiction in Emily/Per Manum. As written, both episodes contradict each other.

EMILY (Adoption Hearing for Emily) MULDER: She was missing for 4 weeks, that's documented in the file. JUDGE: And you found evidence that during this time, she was subjected to experiments where ... you say, they extracted her ova? MULDER: Yes, all of them. (Scully is stunned.)

(LATER ON.) SCULLY: Why didn't you tell me, Mulder? MULDER: I never expected this. I thought I was protecting you.

PER MANUM (Elevators of FBI Building) SCULLY: I was left unable to conceive with whatever test that they did on me. And I am not ready to accept that I will never have children. MULDER: Scully, there's, um, there's something I haven't told you either and I hope you, uh, forgive me and understand why I would have kept it from you. SCULLY: What? MULDER: During my investigation into your illness I found out the reason why you were left barren. Your ova were taken from you and stored in a government lab.

Events of Per Manum deal with the EXACT SAME CONVERSATION but in a MUCH LESS SHITTY manner (well, except for the use of the word "barren"). Mulder tells her what he knows in private, and is apologetic. The question being, which came first? Is Per Manum unreliable because it's a memory? Doesn't seem likely that Scully would forget exactly what happened, but it seems that it is the only possibility. Perhaps instead of telling Mulder straight out about not being able to conceive she only tells him about not wanting to accept it. Therefore Emily happens first then Per Manum. And once we get there in the series I’ll reveal when I think the flashback occurred (it’s within season 5).

EDITED/FIX’D PER MANUM SCENE:

SCULLY: I was left unable to conceive with whatever test that they did on me. And I am not ready to accept that I will never have children. MULDER: Scully, there's, um, there's something I haven't told you either and I hope you, uh, forgive me and understand why I would have kept it from you. SCULLY: What? MULDER: During my investigation into your illness I found out that your the reason why you were left barren. Your ova were taken from you and stored in a government lab.

(This also has the bonus of removing Mulder saying “that word” so yeah.

The reason for the extra stuff in Per Manum is just pure laziness, not wanting to re-explain to people who didn't remember stuff from Emily, not wanting to have additional flashbacks to the episode to save time.

The adoption hearing is where Scully shuts herself away from Mulder. She wanted more from him, wanted a second chance. With Emily, perhaps her priority shifted to her daughter, but she wanted Mulder included in whatever that relationship ended up being. When she learns that Mulder kept all of this from her, it is a very large step backwards. Scully won't initiate anything not only out of fear that Mulder doesn't feel the same, fear of a deeper connection, but also because he PISSED HER OFF. 

Hiding knowledge from Scully is very bad. She NEEDS TO KNOW, in order to have power over terrible things that are done to her. She goes into pathology to have power over death and dying. She focuses on finding out what happened to her when she was abducted, despite being recently returned, needing to know to have power over her fears about it. That he withheld these things from her takes away her power/her control over them.

At her brother's house, sitting on the couch unusually far away from each other.

Why didn't you tell me, Mulder? - Scully I never expected this. I thought I was protecting you. - Mulder

Anything else that might need to be said is interrupted by a phone call. Emily needs their help.

Scully wants to say more, wants to call him out for why his actions hurt her so much, but her focus switches immediately to Emily, on being there for her, instead of thinking too deeply about anything else. Also, Scully needs Mulder's help, and he did come from a place of wanting to protect her, so she focuses on who the "real" enemies are at the moment. These facts do not excuse the shitty things Mulder did, but provide a reason for her to ignore it for the moment.

Scully folds in on herself after losing Emily. It will be a while before she can open up to Mulder, to anyone. DISTANCES HERSELF because she needs to heal, needs to go back to the safely and familiarity of JUST work. She CANNOT risk any more right now.  She's be extremely hesitant to open up again. She's regressed emotionally to where she was before her cancer diagnosis, probably WORSE.

Scully's fears came true. Her fear of death/loss once she opened herself up.

She takes a chance on the little girl, Missy's voice and her instincts causing her to pursue the investigation - all she learns is that when she takes a chance, when she believes in something other than the expected, all she gets is pain and sorrow. (Although she wouldn’t trade having known Emily for anything, the experience is a terrible one to have to go through.)

[a-warm-whisper]

I've been researching PPD because of my mom and im finding it so hard to do the things they are telling me. Don't fight them, accept their feelings, don't tell them they're wrong, listen to why they are upset. Im trying, im trying, im trying. A lot of the info says there is not much you can do until they seek help, but she has always refused. Lately she has been saying "well im better now" and its actually getting so much worse! She blames the last time she had an episode on her going through menopause but I don't think that was purely the case. Her last episode lasted years and this time is almost worse.

The last time she thought that my dad (who she has been divorced from since I was 5) was watching her and listening to her all the time. She used to cover the tvs in sheets so they couldn't record her, thought there was a listening device in the car so we could never talk about anything remotely serious without her "shhhhhushing" me, unless we were outside then we could whisper. She would tell me my friends weren't actually friends, our family didn't care about us, and EVERYONE we ran into she would think somehow knew my dad and was relaying information back to him somehow. She'd get FURIOUS, SCREAM AND THREATEN ME if I accidently let something slip to a random stranger that she didnt want my dad finding out. It got so bad she started shopping two towns over so no one would know her and that worked for a while until she started thinking that even those people knew my dad. She couldn't keep any friends because eventually they would either think she's nuts or she would misinterpret something they said into something awful and explode on the person about it eventually causing them to never want to talk to her again. And she'd never apologize even after I could convince her she had been wrong. She REFUSES to ever admit she's wrong with anything, not just related to her theories. I remember how she would wake me up in the middle of the night threatening to take me to jail or a boarding school if she found out i was telling my dad bad things about her. She tried so hard to convince me that my dad was some horrible creature that tormented her practically to death and it made me feel weird. I never believed her. Eventuslly she stopped saying anything about it and it seemed like she got better, but I wonder if she possibly still thinks he is out to destroy her?

This time is a little different. A little more controlled but its getting worse and worse. Now she is in love with the man on the radio....this one guy, who does the town news and talk show every morning except Sunday. Shes never fucking met him. Never once. Not even out and about (its a very small town i live in) and yet, she's MADLY in love with this man, who she knows nothing about. She thinks he knows who she is though. She did talk to him once on the phone. She called the station and asked him something about gardening to which he told her the answer and that was that, but now she thinks they have some secret thing going and that she loves him. But she also hates everyone else at the radio station because she believes they don't like her and believe she is somehow "using him" for money. So EVERY SINGLE SONG OR COMMENT OR WORD OF THE DAY OR ANYTHING SAID is directed at her. She is constantly telling me "oh Mike played this one song for me, he keeps playing songs about lost love" or if someone else plays a song that is about sadness or something its directed at her. Its hard to explain so here are some texts:

"You are probably asleep but I can't sleep because of the learn a word that Mike had this morning. It was reputation. Then Helen song was Man Eater. I am not a man eater all my husbands married me for MY money!!!! 2 husbands hit or strangled me or both! I kept the houses spotless. Did their laundry etc and now I have a REPUTATION!!!!!!!! I didn't have the men I dated but because I wouldn't & told them NO they spread awful stuff about me! Never done drugs do to my profession. My nursing came first always!!! Was always a hard worker. Some nights I never sat down! BUT I HAVE THE BAD REPUTATION!!!!!!! The thing these people have not even met me. Until you know someone you should not judge them!!!!!!! Haven't dated for 22 years because I was waiting on someone that was decent I had a lot in common with & was respected. Oh well I guess there just aren't any like that anymore!!!!!!

Yes I went thru a bad spell but that was because I was going thru the change of life thing. Which I hope yours goes more smoothly than mine did! Now there is medicine for what I went thru. This is how I feel If they treat me nice I treat them nice.

My own relatives will not even talk to me because Jody & Bill have said awful stuff about me! If they were in TBE same situation( no car) I would tell them to go ahead & cut down some trees and get a vehicle but they thing I'm a user. When Bill was without a job he borrowed thousands of dollars from his mom. Things are just not true what people are saying about me!!!!!!!"

These are from last night, she sends me things like this a couple times a week now. And she deletes them immediately after sending them because she doesn't understand that the whole world can't read our texts. I have no idea how to handle it. Everything she thinks is wrong. So wrong and I can't force her to see the truth.

I'm lost. And it just gets worse and she puts it all on me and expects me to figure everything out for her. She keeps asking me questions of what I really think, so I tell her what I think and she gets upset, screams and cries about how horrible I am for not believing her and then thats that. Im so lost. Its too much and I have no idea how to handle it. I wish I could ask a doctor how to help her more but I don't know how to do that. Im just tired tired tired. She keeps draining me.

Now she has had to go to the doctor a lot recently too because they found cancer in her stool sample and she isnhaving a hard time with this and I feel bad for her I truly do but I also don't know how to help her because she keeps not believing the doctors are telling her the truth. She keeps misinterpreting the nurses body language and thinks they are out to actually kill her EVEN THO THEY DONT KNOW HER. and I have to say, if I was a nurse I'd hate my mom too. She used to be a nurse, when I was young that was her job, but she quit after thinking people were trying to get her fired and she never worked as one again. BUT NOW, when she does go to the doctor she just HAS to make sure that EVERYONE KNOWS that she used to be a nurse so don't try to pull one over on her. She probably passes them off so badly because she walks in the place with an attitude because she thinks she was the best nurse ever to exist ever. So she has to tell everyone "did you know im a nurse, just retired" (which is a lie) and then when they don't acknowledge her she gets furious and thinks they are out to get her. She doesn't believe the things they say are wrong or not wrong with her, because she knows better.

I'm just, exhausted. And my boyfriend doesn't understand the depth of the situation. He just thinks I should stop talking to her but SHES ALL ALONE. she has no friends, no family, just me. She's ran everyone else away. She doesn't even have her own vehicle right now so I'm her only source to the outside world. How would she even get groceries if I didn't talk to her? But she is so demanding and draining and utterly depresses me to no end.

I don't know what to do anymore. I just needed to dump all this somewhere.

[shannendoherty-fans]

Shannen Doherty Is Not Signing Off Just Yet

Fighting Stage IV breast cancer has forced some self-reflection, but the ’90s icon and so-called diva refuses to slow down.

By Kate Pickert Sep 29, 2020. Photos by Kurt Iswarienko. Elle USA October 2020 issue

On a cool evening in February 2019, Shannen Doherty invited some friends to a Venice, California, rental house for a dinner party. Doherty’s actual home was in Malibu, 20 miles north, but she and her husband, photographer Kurt Iswarienko, had fled the property a few months earlier, when a wildfire that started inland burned nearly 100,000 acres on its way to the Pacific Ocean. The couple’s house survived the blaze, but Doherty says the property sustained significant damage that made it uninhabitable.

The guest list for the dinner included only people Doherty trusted: her husband and the friends who knew the real Shannen—not the 1990s tabloid caricature, the loudmouthed bad girl with a temper. Actress Sarah Michelle Gellar was there, along with model Anne Marie Kortright, Malibu real estate agent Chris Cortazzo, and a Los Angeles doctor named Lawrence Piro.

Doherty had compiled the guest list, but it was Piro, her oncologist, who drove the conversation. Less than two years earlier, the actress had finished treatment for breast cancer, and Piro was at the dinner to explain that Doherty’s disease was back. The cancer, Piro said, was now metastatic (also known as Stage IV), meaning it had spread beyond Doherty’s breast and lymph nodes. “The way he presented everything to everyone was matter-of-fact,” Doherty, 49, tells me when we speak in June. The news was devastating, of course, and Doherty had invited Piro so her friends could get answers to the questions she knew they would have. Would she die of this? Probably. Would she die soon? Probably not. Why did this happen? It was impossible to know. Could this be treated? Yes, to a point. “Everybody got to ask questions and know what we were looking at as a group, as a team,” Doherty says.

About 300,000 American women are diagnosed with breast cancer every year. In the majority of cases, initial treatment for the disease is effective, curing the patient. But in a significant share of cases, the breast cancer returns, either to the breast or nearby lymph nodes or to other parts of the body. In Doherty’s case, despite the surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation she had undergone after her first diagnosis, it seemed that some cancer cells had survived the assault and made their way to her spine. Eventually, the disease will most likely spread further, to Doherty’s brain, lungs, liver, or some combination thereof.

Still, there was reason for hope, Piro told the group. Treatment for metastatic breast cancer, which was once an automatic death sentence, has advanced in recent years, with patients living longer and having a better quality of life. Some survive for a decade or more. Doherty’s treatment would include hormone therapy to block the estrogen fueling her cancer, plus a second targeted drug that is often effective at stabilizing metastatic disease. If this didn’t work, there were other drug combinations to try, but the bottom line was that Doherty would be in treatment for the rest of her life. As Piro explained all this, his patient sat at the table, listening.

Nearly 30 years after she played Brenda Walsh on Beverly Hills, 90210, Doherty is still striking, with high cheekbones and shiny, jet-black hair. “I think people have a mental picture of Stage IV cancer as someone sitting in a gray hospital gown, looking out a window on their deathbed,” Iswarienko, tells me. “I don’t see a cancer patient when I look at Shannen. I see the same woman I fell in love with. She looks healthy and vital.”

As if a massive wildfire and a metastatic cancer diagnosis weren’t enough, there was more bad news to come. Weeks after the Venice dinner, Doherty’s 90210 costar Luke Perry died suddenly of a massive stroke. After the show, they had grown apart, but they’d reconnected in recent years. They were even talking about working together, developing a new television project.

At a memorial service for Perry in March 2019, Doherty saw Brian Austin Green, the only other 90210 castmate she could call a close friend. Green had known Doherty even before they were onscreen together, and she shared the news of her metastatic diagnosis with him, even though she was keeping it under wraps publicly. Doherty and Green chatted at the memorial, and the conversation eventually shifted to the latest reboot of the show, called BH90210, a scripted-reality version of the old nighttime drama set in the present day. Castmates Tori Spelling and Jennie Garth had helped come up with the idea for the series, which had been green-lighted at Fox, and all the principals of the original had signed on—except Doherty.

Even before her cancer diagnosis, Doherty was dead set against doing the show. “I had already done two 90210s by that point,” she says. “I didn’t really see it as something that was going to help, but I did feel that it could stir up stuff from when I was 19 years old.”

The 1990s made Doherty a household name, but the decade also left scars. She had helped build 90210 and the Fox network into juggernauts, but on and off set, she seemed to run into problems wherever she went. Celebrity tabloids regularly published stories about Doherty fighting with producers, writers, and actors. She was a diva, according to reports. She was a bitch, they said, impossible to deal with. A 1993 People magazine cover declared Doherty “Out of Control!” after the actress’s ex-fiancé accused her in court of threatening him with bodily harm. The story itself, one of many like it, reported that Doherty had “left a trail of bad debts, trashed homes, exhausted friendships, and wasted relationships.” There was even an I Hate Brenda newsletter devoted to bad-mouthing Doherty and her onscreen character. “The more stories that were written about me, the more defensive and closed off I became,” Doherty tells me. “And the bigger the walls I built around me. I had a lot of resentment.” 

Doherty had worked hard to move on from that time. When the newest reboot came around, she had long been out of the spotlight, but her relative obscurity had an upside—privacy, which she prized more than anything. She didn’t want to go back, to the tabloids or her castmates. But Green asked her to reconsider. “I was really pitching her: ‘I know it’s going to be fucking hard, but come do it. I think it’ll be really good for you,’ ” Green says. The actors had grown up and were all different people now, Green told her, and so was she. He would act as a buffer if she needed one. “ ‘This is a rare opportunity to experience each other again in a much different way,’ ” Green says he told her. 

Perry’s death shifted things for Doherty. Maybe the show could be a sort of tribute to him. Maybe it was a chance to prove to herself that metastatic breast cancer didn’t mean the end of working. Maybe it was both. “Things happen and you go, ‘All right, this is what I’m supposed to be doing at this moment,’ ” she says.

This moment would be different. Doherty had changed, yes, but so had her ability to fight back against negative stories in the celebrity press. “I knew that once I signed up for the show, the bullshit would start all over again. And, in fact, it did,” she says. The reboot’s showrunner and several writers quit before the new show began shooting, and rumors swirled that Doherty was once again acting out. “I addressed it immediately,” Doherty says. On Instagram, she wrote, “I refuse to be cast in the same villain role because ‘journalists’ lack imagination.… I am a woman with my own story.” She wrote that the rumors about her causing upheaval with the new show were untrue and that she was a more complicated person than the headlines made her seem: “I promise,” she wrote, “you don’t know me.”

Part 1 - Part 2

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 4: All Things Work Together For Good

Emma idly shopped for a few items in the store and picked up some essentials. Her attention was caught though when she heard his voice on a television playing nearby. She looked up to see Detective Killian Rogers giving a statement to the press about two missing girls. It seemed that her ex had made quite a name for himself while she was gone.

After paying for her items, she rode the bus back to her brother and sister-in-law's house and while the kids were playing a game, she managed to get his attention. She pointed to the backyard and he followed her, before she collapsed onto the swing.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Something happened today," she replied.

"Okay...what's going on Em?" he asked.

"This is going to sound crazy...but I kept hearing this voice. I was on a bus and it was my voice telling us to slow down. I tried to ignore it, but it just got louder then. And...when I screamed at the bus driver, he stopped, just in time for a little boy to run out in front of the bus," she explained. She saw her brother straighten his shoulders and she could almost see the gears turning in his head as he tried to process what she was telling him.

"You've always had good instincts when it comes to helping people. That's why you became a cop," he reasoned.

"This wasn't instinct, David," she protested.

"Even if it wasn't...keep it to yourself," he urged.

"I tell you and MM everything," she reminded him.

"You know I'm not talking about MM…" he said, as he leaned closer.

"But if the NSA hears that a passenger is hearing voices in their head...we'll all end up in some government lab somewhere," he warned. She wanted to refute that claim, but knew he was right. They were being closely watched; of that she knew wholeheartedly.

"You coming inside for dinner?" he asked.

"Uh...no I think I need some air. I'm going to take a walk," she replied. He sighed.

"Em…" he started to protest, but she forced a smile.

"I'm fine...save me some?" she asked. He rolled his eyes and then nodded.

~*~

After a nice, quiet family dinner together, they cleaned up the kitchen and then sat curled together on the couch, watching the kids play a board game at the table nearby.

"I never thought I'd have this again…" Margaret gushed, as she cuddled against him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"I can't imagine what you've been through. If I had lost you...for five years, I think I would have lost my mind," he admitted. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds, as she gazed into his eyes and then kissed him tenderly. He kissed her back and felt the familiar passion that was always so strong between them lick at his every nerve.

"Hey Mom...do you still have my dinosaur Lego set?" Henry asked curiously.

"Sure sweetie...I think we packed most of that stuff away in the closet," Margaret answered.

"You kept it all? And Dad's stuff too?" he asked. She looked down a little shyly.

"Well...some people said I should pack it away or give it to Goodwill, but Ollie said we shouldn't. She said that you and daddy were out there somewhere and even though I had my doubts...I wanted so badly to believe her," she said, as she stood up and hugged him.

"Some people said it was unhealthy, but I left your room exactly like it was. Most of the toys are just packed away," she said, as he took her hand and pulled her toward the stairs.

"Can we get them out?" he asked. She chuckled.

"Of course we can," she replied, as she was happy to let him practically drag her up the stairs. David looked on happily, as he saw his daughter putting the game away.

"So...Mom says you're still playing soccer," he mentioned. She nodded and shrugged.

"Yeah...I have a game tomorrow," she replied.

"I'd love to come if that's okay with you," he said. She smiled.

"I know I'm kind of attracting a lot of attention right now so I'll stay away if that makes it weird for you…" he stammered, but she came over to him.

"Screw 'em dad…" she said and he looked surprised, but then probably shouldn't have. She was a teenager now and he chuckled.

"Okay...then I'll be there," he said, as they shared a hug.

"Thanks for never giving up on us, peanut," he whispered to her. She sniffed and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"They said I was crazy and they pushed mom into sending me to therapy," she confessed.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," he said.

"It's okay...therapy helped a lot and I stopped telling people that I thought Henry was alive after a while. I moved on...sort of I guess," she replied.

"Good...I'd want you to be happy if we really were gone," he told her. She nodded.

"Mom didn't move on though...people even got pretty pushy about it. I heard them say it wasn't normal," she confessed. He sighed.

"Well...your Mom and I have never really been normal. People have always had a hard time understanding our bond. It was always us against the world and looks like it still is...all of us though. We'll figure all this out together," he promised, as he kissed her hair.

What he said was true and it had really always been that way.

When Ruth died, David was only twelve and stepped up when his father didn't. Margaret had seriously been his rock and the bond they already shared deepened even more in a way that just didn't happen too often. They didn't often discuss the mystical feel it had, because most kids already thought they were weird, but they had always drawn strength from that bond and it had developed into a deep, all encompassing love that was very true and beyond incredible.

Even when life threatened to get in their way, they had refused to allow it and always joined hands to walk through it together. They adopted Ruth's mantra and favorite Bible verse into their lives and had never let go of it.

All Things Work Together For Good

They had done this when facing all adversity. They had done so on the playground and both had gotten into enough dust ups protecting and defending each other against mean kids or bullies.

They had done so when Eva died and then Ruth died just two years later. At both funerals, others around their families had tried to pull them apart or even expressed to their remaining parents that their closeness was inappropriate for their age. Leopold was never around to be concerned enough about Margaret, until she was older and by then she had told her absentee father where he could go. And neither Ruth or Robert, to his credit, had never been shy about defending them either. They considered Margaret as their own and even through all his struggles, that had never changed for Robert.

They had faced and navigated High School much the same way. Again, they were the weird kids, though they had a decent sized group of friends and other misfits they congregated with. Even among the misfits they stood out as an oddity and teachers viewed their closeness as inappropriate and frowned upon it. But even with all of that working against them and society constantly trying to conform them to its parameters, they defied everything that should have and would have torn most apart.

By college, Robert was in rehab and getting sober, while they found a freedom in college. They were no longer looked at as being weird for their close, loving relationship. They excelled in their classes, as they went to get their teaching degrees together. All the bad and uninspiring teachers they had drove them into that profession. They wanted to help kids navigate the difficulties in life. They had each other, but knew a lot of kids weren't as lucky as they were.

It came as no surprise to anyone that they were ready to get married during their second year and Robert, likely in his guilt and overcompensation, had thrown them a giant wedding. He stated that he knew that this would be their only marriage and that it should be celebrated as the true, real life fairy tale that it was. They appreciated his enthusiasm and let him do this for them, in honor of Ruth, because they all knew she would have relished the day they got married and knew she was there in spirit.

Their paths in the education profession diverted in a bit. Margaret always knew that she wanted to focus on early education and knew she'd likely go on to teach at the elementary level. David, being extremely gifted in mathematics, stayed in school an extra year to get his Master's degree. Upon graduating, he started in teaching advanced math at the high school level, but eventually became an associate professor at the University level.

The twins had come along five years later, much to their incredible joy and even through all the years and Henry's cancer, their love had weathered every storm and they had come out the other side loving each other even more. And he knew it would overcome this too.

"Come on...let's go see how many toys your brother has managed to find already," he said. They shared a smile and went upstairs.

~*~

Emma wandered the streets, not really paying attention to where she was going and as she rounded another corner, she heard the voice again. But it was saying something different this time.

"Set them free…"

She stopped and saw two dogs locked behind a fence and heard the voice again. By now, she was really freaked out and so ignored the voice's command this time, before hurrying back home.

~*~

She was in heaven. Pure, sweet heaven, as he made love to her again. She couldn't get enough, not that she had ever been able to. But five years was far too long to

suffer through without his touch. She had thought this was lost to her. She thought she'd never feel him kiss her again. She thought she'd never feel his hands on her body again. She thought she'd never feel him inside her again.

After, they held each other and cuddled, exchanging soft kisses and soulful gazes.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, as he caressed her face.

"Mmm...that five years is too long. A day is too long for me…" she gushed, as she pressed a kiss to his bare chest.

"I'm never leaving your side again...I promise, for more than a few hours anyway," he promised.

"Then you're going to put your resume out there?" she asked curiously. He nodded.

"I need a job...I mean, we'll be okay for a while I think. We still have some of Mom's money left, right?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yes...the life insurance I got for you is mostly gone, but I paid off the house when I was finally able to pull myself together," she replied. He caressed her face.

"You're amazing...I don't know how you did it," he mentioned.

"I didn't for a while...I was a mess. Your father really came through. He lost his kids and didn't touch a drop. He pretty much took care of Olive, the house, me, the bills around here for like six months and never complained. I couldn't have done it without him," she admitted. He smiled.

"Yeah...dad I need to talk and I need to thank him for taking care of the most precious things to me," he said tearfully. She leaned in and kissed him again, but he pulled away suddenly when he heard a voice.

"David…?" she asked, as she saw him put a hand to his temple.

"Baby...what is it?" she questioned, as he heard it again.

"Set them free…" the voice, his own voice, insisted.

"It's crazy…" he said, not sure how to tell her.

"The plane you were on disappeared for five and half years and then came back. Obviously there is something bigger going on here and if embracing it is my price for getting you back...then I'm all in," she promised. He looked at her and nearly broke down in tears. God she was amazing and he was so lucky. Not many other people would react that way.

"Okay...earlier Emma said that she heard a voice on the bus. It told her to slow down and it was so insistent that she yelled at the bus driver. Before he could give her hell for making him slam on the brakes...a little kid ran out in front of the bus," he explained. She gasped.

"She saved the little boy?" she asked. He nodded.

"I told her to keep it to herself, except you. You know if the government thinks passengers are hearing voices that they'll lock us up in some lab," he replied. She nodded.

"And you just heard something?" she asked. He nodded.

"It said...set them free," he replied and he watched her get up and start putting her clothes on.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It said set them free so let's go find them," she replied and he looked at her incredulously.

"David...whatever this is…" she said, pausing for a moment.

"It brought you and Henry back to me and if the price of that is doing something for it in return? Then I told you that I'm in. I may not be hearing the voices too, but we're doing this together," she replied and he couldn't help but grin brightly at her.

"Most wives would look at their husbands and tell them they're crazy after what I just told you," he said.

"I'm not most wives and you're not most husbands," she replied, as he started getting dressed.

"We've never been normal, baby...and this is just par for the course," she added, as he kissed her soundly.

"We were holding hands on the playground at eight. You were picking flowers for me at ten and all the rest of my life after that," she added.

"Snowdrops…" he said fondly.

"Only snowdrops," she agreed.

"We had our first kiss at twelve after your Mom died and endured no less than fifteen lectures about how we were too young and we didn't understand love, but that was, crap, as Emma would say," she said passionately.

"Definitely...I knew I was in love with you then," he said.

"We made love for the first time when we were sixteen and endured the glare of every teacher in High School for our closeness that no one else could understand," she replied, as she slipped her arms around his neck.

"I've always felt you in my soul...and that never left me, even when you were gone," she said, as her voice choked a bit. He kissed her tenderly.

"You remember when the study hall teacher caught us making out in the janitor's closet?" he joked. She laughed.

"Which time? And it was worth the detention," she teased, as they melted into each other again, until he heard the voice.

"You heard it again…" she said and he wasn't surprised that she could still read him like a book.

"Yeah...it's not going away," he lamented.

"Come on...Olive will be fine here with Henry for a bit," she insisted, as she led him out. Yes...he was certainly the luckiest man on the planet, he was positive of that.

~*~

Not long after she had left the scene with those dogs, the voice returned to plague her. She gave up on sleep, got dressed, and took a bus back to the fence where the dogs were locked up.

"Set them free," the voice told her. She groaned and put her hands on her head. She jumped though, as there were suddenly headlights on her. She squinted, as the car stopped and the doors opened. She was surprised and relieved to find her brother and sister-in-law there.

"Guys...what are you doing?" she asked.

"Set them free," David said, with a note of frustration in his voice.

"I told him that we had to find what this voice is trying to tell you to do," Margaret said. She looked at her in surprise and he shrugged.

"I know...her first reaction to me hearing voices in my head is that we should follow the voices and not that I might be crazy," he joked.

"You are not crazy...and neither are you, Emma. But this...it means something. I'm not hearing anything...but I feel it," she explained.

"You both came back to me...and there is something out there that had to help you do that. All things work together for good," she added. Emma and David exchanged a glance.

"You're a lucky bastard, you know that, right?" Emma asked. He grinned and looked at his wife fondly, before hugging her close to his side.

"Trust me...I know," he agreed. Margaret looked at him with a dreamy stare and then at Emma, before hugging the blonde.

"This has to be so hard…" she fretted and Emma shrugged.

"Killian and I...we're not you guys and I don't think we were ever going to be," she replied.

"That just means that your true love is still out there for you," Margaret promised.

"Yeah...let's not talk about that now," Emma deflected, as her brother heard the voice again.

"Set them free," Emma said. He nodded with uncertainty and got a crowbar out of the car.

"For the record...this is a felony," he said wearily, as they broke the lock. The dogs, instead of attacking, ran off down the street. Curiously though, the voice stopped.

"What the hell was the point of that?" David wondered.

"Dunno...but the voice stopped," Emma replied.

"Then I suggest we go home for now," Margaret said. Emma raised an eyebrow.

"For now?" she asked.

"I think we all know that whatever this is...it's not over," Margaret reasoned. They agreed and got back into the car, as David drove them home.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Apparently my mom became a sort of boss..

Like one day she said Abu was escaping so she said for them to capture him then take him where he wanted to go.

For me, that's some bull shit to stay kidnapped and cry and complain she wouldn't be safe here.

That alone is all you're too much hassle to deal with during Christmas and Hanukkah. You didn't care about 31 of mine, you can stay in the hospital. Instead of us catering around you and your care and trying to enjoy our holidays, minus you and our life is better just as she said during nearly 33 years.

Because every dam day it's gonna be checking on mom and making sure things are okay and dealing with her bullying if she desieres to be one.

I was willing to do it so my dad could see her and us during the holidays and she didnt feel abandoned.

But she can have that feeling.

Of course my other siblings can vote, we set up different possibilities but im not baby sitting her like we were going. Another holiday but not 2 weeks of it.

......

My best friend was trained by my mom in the kitchen. One day she overslept so Abu sent for her father to protect her. And he became an in between from another farm to his daughter's. Neither one were sure who they were with but they felt better. Like how I always felt with her or our friend. Just better. No real reason why. Just better. Stronger and mentally clean. Like happiness isn't a sin.

.....

Our other friend was just a common slave, hidden under the ranks. But he had a guitar and things like that that many others didnt have. He was told to say he stole it. But he found it under a tree around Easter. A gift from God or the Easter Bunny. So he was treated with respect and protected more than other common slaves. Although he himself would protect any one there. As he went to save our friend. But was unable.

He gave lessons and found books of music sheets to learn new songs, here and there, usually tucked in his sheets when it was noticed he was failing at happiness.

While it may seem like only he got gifts... Anyone whom could hear recieved the gift of music and the more he taught others, the more guitars that would appear.

And one day a piano appeared. A small organ piano.

So he was the rockstar in the Queens eyes. Because i knew the Queen would protect him.

....

For our friend in the kitchen unique spices and recipies would appear hidden in the cabinet or sitting on the stove, again starting around Easter. Hers was before and the magic of music after. This granted her a better bed from the Queen and better shoes on Christmas, the kind nurses wear for all the farms kitchen workers, again from the Queen as Abu requested.

As my mother complained she quit cooking because her feet hurt. But refused to do anything about it, including asking the Queen, So i told Abu, i want to beat her face in so bad. And Abu said i have a better idea. Lets prove to the Queen they deserve them, in only the way the Queen will understand.

And so i prayed.

And i knew we won so i growled at my mother. And it scared her. But i did not attack her like a wild animal should, although I wanted to.

....

Abu found people all over that he felt a kindred spirit with so he did all kinds of things for them.

Of course new recipes and new spices induced a fresh day for my friend and fresh taste for all the victims that ate from her kitchen and as Abu saw it working, all the kitchens on all the farms.

....

It came from God, it is true. It did.

But as others have said that i have done a miracle this past week... I say it could not happened without help from other humans.

I choose not to be As critical of myself or Obama (as much as usual) for it being so long they have been kidnapped before I could help them, and since God blessed his human traffic victims with gifts that protected them as provided from Abu and his workers that would slip in the gifts and surprises. It makes it easier to not be so critical of him and myself.

....

The reason I write is because of another dear friend i saw as a father. We call him Hondo.

Because Ms Hindi says he thinks like her.

And Ms Hindi said God says no Christmas for mom. As her punishment as he can review his list.

But Hondo was kidnapped with the promise of surfing down South and he wanted to teach his son.

But instead he became a human traffic victim.

He thought his son had died over a decade and half ago. So he could not return home. He thought he didn't deserve it.

So he told himself it was better to stay with Abu and make sure Abu stays good. And doesnt end up like my mom. So one day, he kept his fingers crossed, that he could promise me i would be safe with Abu. And he could teach me the truth and the difference between him and her.

Then maybe, maybe, God would tell him or he would feel or finally believe he could go home and his wife would not hate him

But at least maybe he could get into Heaven to see her Then because he helped someone that he saw and took care of and loved as he did his own kid.

He uses Matt to send money home on the holidays. And he uses his money from work to hire security and protection for his wife and daughter at home. Matt bought them a new house -- But Matt hes a dork. Was too afraid to So he pretended he bought the trailer they were in and hooked it up and tried to move it. So he apologized with 1 million dollars.

Boys are dumbasses. But it worked!!!

....

So you see that all kinds of people i know but each one are absolutely different.

While Hondo is afraid and ashamed.

My mother is manipulative and egotistical.

One friend has no father But another has had hers nearby and has built a relationship with him. (Our male friend went to pack, not wanting to leave, not knowing who is really behind the move - knowing the bull shit his father is capable of although dead -- they're all the same; while shes with her dad and they had packed the first minute she had)

....

Crates with packing material have been flown in about 2 hours ago and the DNA test kits arrived and some people have been tested.

Like my mother was tested and then compared with my DNA test i had already taken at 23andme.

Some of us were hoping she was buried down in the common slave department. Unfortunately we all know our parents even when we don't want them.

....

My best friend's mom as we were taught is her mom is still alive as is her younger sister and shes got nieces and nephews. But her family is like mine and got mixed with non familial relatives and family. So the DNA tests will come in handy.

Our friend still has his brother and the mom he had has died but the father he was left to is still alive. And hes a good guy, he always said his mom was only good at cooking and he was supposed to ignore her otherwise. So he has his own family to return to, although its a mix of blood and love. His was based on honesty although his father is a horrible criminal, he was raised with as much information as possible. DNA tests will be helpful also, though but not as, we feel, dammed important. Not Because his father is a criminal, we just feel there's honesty.

Hes the same as Declan and so there's no bad to fall upon him, he wasn't asked to be born to him. Or to be born at all.

And so no one really that i know of is to be treated bad at all.

My mom although we aren't giving her what we want for 99.9% of the victims, shes not being punished as far as real punishment goes. We are electing her to get real instead of having fun. So being in a mental hospital or physical hospital instead of being at a house with guards and family time. It happens all the time everywhere. Regardless if you're a human trafficker or new born with cancer or a teenager that no one listens to.

....

So i do hope that everyone understand that the majority over 99.9% didn't want to be kidnapped to be kidnapped and human trafficked.

And a lot of the adults feel guilty and ashamed.

Weak and dumb and a whole list of things that should give them reasons to be hated by their own family.

Like Hondo.

.

So many people think if i do this one thing and it's good to God then i can move on.

So those that have been here 10 years. Not all feel that way but im sure that quite a large handful do.

And those in Iraq will have that mental disturbance.

....

So for y'all at home waiting for your loved ones. Remind them to be safe. Like no hitchhikers and no hitchhiking.

But also remind them that its okay. Its okay they are home.

Our neighbor Hondo was in the Military and took a ride with Jeremiah. We trusted him to a small degree as he was always in the neighborhood and had a charm like a sleezy car salesman.

Which is why they are going to be gifted cars, so they don't take rides with someone they shouldn't trust but do.

And we admit there will be a huge amount of mental issues, thoughts, that will be difficult to deal with for the victims and for the families to give correct advice.

Guidelines of Safety and Emergency Situations will be provided to both the family and the victims.

Like a mental break down is possible. A panic attack is possible.

For both sides.

Step One is to realize the situation. 1. The kidnapped has been released and is free. Breathe. 2. Both the family and victim are loved. Breathe.

Usually there's just a simple "what color shirt do i want to buy?" Can set off a whole fucked up system in the minds. It can happen to a "normal" person. Don't think im not speaking from experience!!

Step Two: step away. Drop the topic. Stop what you are doing. Let someone else handle it. Or try again after sleep. Not because there is something wrong with you but because you're not taking care of you. Youre probably over stimulated. Again personal experience. So don't feel like trash.

Step three: pray. Just ask. Insert the word "God and help and me and what you are trying to do."

Repeat.

There's more examples in the lists that will be sent. But this is the short version. And they will cover emergency situations which is just about the same but the why is explained in details.

And the above works for any one And everyone.

[owldemon08]

you'll never understand  But why would you - open letter

this is an open letter to someone I talk to every single day and am really close to. they don't have Tumblr so if I know you in real life. it's not you. and I probably shouldn't have to say this but, trigger warning, I think? mainly for like trans people or people with like PTSD for like family divorce and mentions of verbal abuse, depression, suicide, and some other heavy stuff. so be cautious if you have a problem with that kind of stuff. 

Its been a while since we actually had this conversation but. I was never finished with it. you walked away before I could finish. and I'm not angry. you don't like fighting and I understand that but. I wanna finish. because you know that's how I am. I need to finish my thoughts. 

if you don't remember, which isn't hard to believe. I was talking about my parent's divorce. for the personal narrative essay. and I mentioned how hard it was to switch weekends with my dad and mom. I said how I had to plan the switch weeks, sometimes a month ahead. and you, said something along the lines of “whys it so hard? just say ‘hey I wanna switch weekends.’ and be done” and I told you, that it's not that simple, because of the custody papers and agreements and yadda yadda yadda. and you proceded to say, “ Sydnie, (purposefully using my birth name) you make everything so much more difficult then it needs to be. you make your life sound so hard. it doesn't help that you wanna be so special with your gender and sexuality.” when you said this, I was hurt. you've never said anything like that before. and I was surprised. you were probably having a bad day, which isn't that uncommon cause, you get pissed of by idiots in your first hour and I usually make things better in the second hour.

and because it was all I could think off. I said to you. “ you wouldn't understand, cause your parents are together.”  then the bell rang. “why does that matter.” and you walked out, without me for the first time ever. but I have more to say. and I’m again going to start it with.

                                 you don't understand.

you don't understand cause you don't have to deal with it. 

and because you don't have to deal with it. you don't have to worry.

you don't have to deal with your parents being in two different houses. 

you don't have to deal with there only interaction being them yelling 98% of the time. 

you don't have to be the middle man, cause you know they'll fight if you aren't.

you don't have to deal with the aching pain of knowing that, you might be the reason your parents divorced when you were 4. 

you don't have to worry about your stepdad coming in your room to yell at you for no reason. 

you don't have to be compared to your older brother on a daily basis

you don't have to deal with sitting in your room just so you don't get compared to your dad by your stepdad with false information.

you don't have to plan weekends with your dad just so you can see him for a weekend and only see him for half of it, because he has to work double overtime just to barely make due on child support.

you don't have to watch your dad silently cry in the car every visit just cause your brother refuses to talk to him, just cause your stepdad has money and he doesn’t.

you don't have to listen to your dad fight with your stepmom because he wants to get his son a birthday present but you stepmom doesn't want him to cause they can barely afford groceries, and he hasn't been there in 6 years so why bother.

you don't have to leave your moms house crying on Christmas almost every year cause your brother is an asshole and yells at you for saying something about your dad, but won't even say Merry Christmas to him, even though he gives him a card with $50-$100 that he’d been saving for MONTHS using quarters and spare $1′s he finds and stashes in his truck without his wife knowing.

you don't have to be afraid to shower for weeks at a time because you'd rather die than have to see your self naked in a mirror.

you don't have to be afraid that your parents will kick you out if they find out your trans. 

you don't have to ask teachers to call you a name other then what's on the roster.

you don't have to stand there and explain for 3 minutes why your preferred name is so different than your name on the roster. 

you don't have to remind yourself to use the girl's bathroom even though your feet wanna take you into the boys. 

you don't have to live in fear of coming out to your dad, because you might break his heart, and possibly cause ANOTHER heart attack that could actually kill him.

you don't have to constantly remind people you've known since before you came out that you don't use your birth name anymore, but they still use it cause, who cares your still technically a girl right? 

you don't have to worry about finding a person to date, just cause you don't look your gender.

you don't have to watch as someone you are in love with that you've been flirting with for months, gets a boyfriend because they aren't into women, forget your trans, and thinks your flirting is just platonic compliments.

you don't have to feel horrible, just cause you really wish that you’d get breast cancer so that you can get surgery without having to come out to your transphobic family.

you don't have to sit and listen as your grandfather who loves you to death states that he would shoot a trans person, unknowing that your one of those people. 

you don't sit awake at night and cry because you would give anything to either die in your sleep or magically wake up as a guy.

you don't have to switch the pronouns in stories just so you don't out your gay friend and get banned from talking to him.

you don't have to deal with falling asleep for 10 hours but only getting 3 hours of sleep because of insomnia making you toss and turn all night and have nightmares you can't even remember that keep you from actually sleeping.

you don't have to listen to voices in your head make fun of you cause you think people care for you. 

you don't have to fear for the next relapse, that drives you to hurt yourself again

you don't have to listen to people make light-hearted jokes about your weight, that actually hurt, because of your mind there true. 

you don't have to sit and listen to voices as they say you're worthless and hopeless.

you don't have to deal with depression that you've had since you were 5 and realized daddy was never coming home again.

you don't have to listen as all of your family, even your sister who knows you've tried to kill yourself tells you that you're being dramatic and don't have depression and are just looking for attention.

you don't have to (non-religiously) pray that you see your best friend at random points in the day, cause their touch is the only thing that makes the voices shut up for a few minutes at a time. 

you don't have to deal with hoping that you get hit by a car, just so that the pain of living finally stops.

you don't have to deal with the thought process of, you don't want your life to end, you just want the pain to stop, and death may be the only way.

you don't have to deal with divorced parents, gender dysphoria, depression, insomnia, anxiety, and shit like I do. yes, you deal with your own problems, but please don't downplay mine as “making my life hard cause I want to.” if I had the choice I wouldn't have a fucking life at all. 

so please, stop downplaying my struggles, I'm not saying they're the worst in the world, but there what I deal with, I don't downplay yours, I always listen to you and treat your issues the way they should be treated so, do the same for me.

               But even after this, if you ever saw it, you'd still                              never understand, why would you? you don't care enough.

Yeah so that's it, I'm done ranting now and I cried a couple times while writing this....... but yeah, that was meant for one person but whoever reads this can use it to learn about me so.... have fun with this info 

[kinkyacademia]

I know your ask box is closed but I would really like an emergency request. I got told by my sister that my nan died today after a painful battle with cancer after she deteriorated so much she couldn’t remember her family and I’m breaking apart at the seams trying to cope with her death. Could I have some comfort from Todoroki with a s/o who is going through this. Possible a fem s/o if you can? Thank you so much

I remember being 8 years old and getting that phone call, it’s right up there with one of the most painful things I have ever gone through. I understand your pain hun and if you need to talk you know where I am, just come hit me up and chat. I honestly mean that, if you ever need to talk, no matter the time of day or night then please come talk to me; that goes for all of you Little Rogues. I will put my heart and soul into this request for you bub, hopefully where my hands can’t reach you my words may help in some small way.

~Lady Bitch Tits🐾🐾

Trigger Warning: Contains Depictions of Grief and Loss

🏔️🏔️🏔️

If the world were to ever come to and end, you’d swear it would be far less painful than this and you’d even be willing to say you’d probably take it over this. It honestly felt like you had an intense weight on your chest, or like someone had wrapped their arms around you and was squeezing too tight. You couldn’t breath, the sheer force of the action had your lungs burning and it felt like knives were cascading down your throat from how raw it was. You couldn’t believe it, you refused to believe it but your body and mind was all too aware of how real it was; they knew the truth. It didn’t matter how much you wanted everything to be a lie or how much you will the truth away, it would never change the fact that she was gone.

You knew that this day had been coming, it had been talked about before but you had always held out hope that just maybe it wouldn’t come to be and you’d be wrong. Your Nan was so much more than just your Nan, she was your best friend and you loved her wholeheartedly. When you had received the phone call it was like the world had stood still, your mind was in meltdown as you clutched the phone to your ear and tried desperately to listen. You couldn’t handle it, the realisation that she was gone and you would never get to have another conversation with her again. Your heart seemed to plummet into the pit of your stomach as the other end of the phone went dead. Your breath coming in shorter, rougher bursts as your mind raced and tried to keep up with the emotions you were feeling.

Your skin was on fire, your vision blurred as you leaned forwards out of desperation. The phone clattered to the ground as your fingers went numb, your body refusing to respond to your wishes. You could feel yourself falling apart, your head spinning as insufficient oxygen started to get the better of you. Hyperventilating you reached your arm out desperately, in dire need of something to grab a hold of; something to keep you grounded. Tears swam across your vision as breathing became near impossible, fear of being alone in that moment starting to grip at your mind and cause you to panic. Your hand gripped onto something, you weren’t sure what and honestly you didn’t care either. You held on for dear life as a loud scream sounded out in the room and you realised it was coming from you.

Shouto jolted out of his slumber as he heard your scream, his eye wide and alert with concern as he scanned the room for you. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he sprang out of the bed, discarding the bed sheets to the floor as he raced towards the door in search of you. Years of training and having been in the field as a hero had him on high alert, Shouto knew better than to become complacent in times like these. He prepared himself for the worse case scenario, his heart in his throat as he made his way through the house quickly and searched for you as he went. He wanted to call out to you but if you weren’t alone, he knew that he would give himself away and any chance of keeping you safe would go out the window. Shouto stopped short of the kitchen, the sounds of sobs reaching his ears as his eyes focused on the doorway. He stepped into the kitchen, flames licking at his palm in case something was wrong but they instantly vanished as he saw your crumpled form clinging to the kitchen counter top.

“(Name)…?” Shouto asked cautiously as he stepped towards you.

You couldn’t contain the pain-filled sobs as they racked through your body, causing you to tremble as you clung to the counter. You cried as you leaned forwards heavily, pressing your forehead to the counter as you shook violently. You had never felt such despair before, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? That feeling of uselessness, of utter pain and the lost feeling you had, was despair wasn’t it? You weren’t even aware that Shouto was there with you, your cries drowning out all noise around you and your mind was racing with regrets you harboured. There was so much that you had still wanted to say and hadn’t had the time, now it was too late for anything. Your cries grew louder and your legs shook, your knees finally giving out.

Shouto’s eyes widened as he noticed your body starting to give out on you, his own moving of its own accord as he made to catch you. He caught your body as you fell back, his arms securing around your chest as he tucked them under your own arms. Shouto grunted as your bodies tangled together on the ground, his eyes instantly falling to you as he frowned out of worry. He didn’t know what was happening but he knew that something was wrong with you, he had never seen you in such a state like this before and it terrified him to see you like it now. He pulled you in close to his  body, turning you around so that your chest was pressed against his. Shout rubbed his hands over your back as he kissed the top of your ear, his lips lightly pressing against your hair as he closed his eyes.

“(Name)…” Shouto whispered as he waited for you to calm, he wanted to talk to you and find out what was wrong.

“I’m s-sorry…” You stuttered as you buried your head against his shoulder, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at the man you loved for fear of the disgusted look you may find above.

Shouto’s eyes widened as he stared at you. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from you exactly but he had never thought you would apologise to him. “What for? You haven’t done anything wrong, (Name).” He reassured as he rubs over your back gently.

You sobbed as you gripped his shoulders firmly, it was obvious that you had woken him from his sleep due to his state of clothing or lack thereof. “I woke you, I know you needed your sleep. I’m sorry for waking you, Shouto.” You mumbled as you blinked your tears out of your eyes and continued to hide your face. You sniffled as Shouto placed his hands on your cheeks and tried to pull your head back away from his body, an attempt to look at your face you gathered. You frowned as you tried to pull your head away from him, his grip on your face only growing stronger with your efforts and eventually you had to submit to his desires.

Shouto tilted your head back slowly, his thumb sliding along your cheek and collecting the tears staining your beautiful skin. He looked down into your eyes, searching for some clue as to what had brought you so undone. His breath hitched slightly as he saw the deep sorrow and pain present in your eyes, it all made sense to him now why you were the way you were. Shouto wrapped his arms back around your shaking frame securely, tangling his right hand into the back of your hair and pulling your head in against his.

“I’m so sorry, (Name).” He whispered softly as he closed his eyes. He felt your body stiffen before going limp against his as you started to sob again. “When?”

You cried as you moved your arms around his chest, digging your nails into his shoulder blades as you pressed your nose into his hair. “I got the phone call just now.” You choked as you leaned into him heavily and sobbed. Your chest hurt and your throat felt raw as you tried desperately to draw in air to your lungs.

Shouto was silent as he held you close, desperately trying to hold you together as he thought about what he could do for you. He knew that you had to go to work, but in your state he highly doubted your ability to get any work done for the day. He moved his legs about slowly, crossing them under you as he leaned forwards and caged you in against his body. For now the least he could do was get you up off the floor and somewhere where you would be warm, it was his day off for once so he didn’t have to worry about leaving you alone.

“I’ll ring in for you, let them know you won’t be in. I’m not letting you out of my sight today.” He explained as he rubbed your back soothingly, kissing your ear and then down along your neck. “Let me look after you for today, (Name)” He whispered before standing up with you.

You cried as you leaned into Shouto’s body heavier, letting him just take you wherever he wanted you to go. You weren’t going to try to argue with him, you knew that he would never let you out the front door and you honestly didn’t have the energy to go to work. You shuddered as your boobs rubbed against his chest, his movements making the material of your top pull against your nipples. You blinked as Shouto set you down on the vanity top in the bathroom, watching him as he moved over to the bath and started it up.

Shouto looked back at you as he added some vanilla scented bath salts to the water, running his right hand through the water slowly and heating it more as he stirred in the salts. He smiled as he watched the salts disperse in the water, the sweet aroma of the vanilla started to fill the bathroom as he stood up from the bath and turned to face you fully. He took the two steps up to the vanity, placing his hands either side of your thighs as he leaned in close to you and pressed his lips to yours gently. Shouto kissed you gently as he pulled at your clothing, slipping his hands up under your sleep shirt as he pushed it up along your body slowly. He undressed you as he kept you busy with his mouth, his tongue sliding in between your lips and delving into the warmth of your own luscious mouth.

“Shouto…” You mumbled against his lips as you leaned into his touches more.

Shouto hushed you as he pulled you off of the vanity and carried you over to the bath, sinking you down into the warm water. “Relax in here, (Name). I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He whispered as he kissed your forehead before straightening up and walking out of the bathroom.

You sat there in the warm water, stretching out slowly and leaning back against the side of the tub. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips as you ran your hand through the water, it was warmer than you knew the water in your house usually was capable of being and it meant Shouto had heated the water for you himself. You shuddered as the muscles in your body started to relax, the scent of vanilla washing over your senses and helping you to calm down as you settled back. You closed your eyes and listened to the rest of the house, awaiting the sound of footsteps that would signify your boyfriends return. You smiled as you heard the familiar click of the dryer being closed and then the sudden whir of the machine coming to life. The sound of gentle footsteps getting closer caught your attention and you looked up just as Shouto walked back into the bathroom, a smile pulling at his lips as his eyes caught yours.

“Feeling better now?” Shouto asked as he knelt down next to the bath, running his fingers through your hair slowly.

“Yeah, I am thank you.” You whispered as you leaned into his touch, wanting more of it. “Be better if you joined me though.”

Shouto chuckled softly as he leaned in to you and kissed your cheek, his lips brushing over your skin as he made to kiss the corner of your eye as well. “Not now (Name), maybe later.” He offered as he rubbed his thumb over your cheek before moving to grab a washcloth, motioning for you to sit up and turn so he could wash your body.

You sat there, relaxing in the water while Shouto made about cleaning your body. You couldn’t help notice he was taking his time to massage certain parts of your body. You could feel the tension leaving your body as he worked his fingers over the muscles in your arms and shoulders, his lips making contact with your neck every so often. It wasn’t long before you felt tired, the warmth of the water and the vanilla salts having worked their magic in conjunction with Shouto’s massage. You moved your hand quickly, covering your mouth as you attempted to stifle a yawn.

“I think you’re about done.” Shouto whispered huskily as he gave a final rub to your shoulder and then stood up away from you. You blinked as Shouto left the bathroom again, coming back just moments later with a thick towel in hand. “Might want to stand up, (Name).” He suggested as he tilted his head and watched you closely.

You nodded as you made to stand in the bath, the cold air in the bathroom assaulting your skin the moment it left the warmth of the water. You watched as steam rose up off of your skin before dissipating completely before your eyes. Your attention was stolen away as you were wrapped up within warmth again, a thick towel clinging to your body as Shouto wrapped you in it. It made sense to you now what he had been putting the dryer on, he was heating up your towel for you. You smiled as you snuggled into the towel, gasping slightly as Shouto quickly hoisted you up out of the water, carrying you out to your bedroom as he kissed along your jaw slowly.

Shouto set you down on the soft covers of your bed gently before unfurling the towel, pulling it around your body as he moved to dry your skin. He didn’t want to leave you wet and end up with you getting sick from his negligence. He dried your body thoroughly as he hummed a soft tune, watching your face as your eyes drooped and you fought against the wave of exhaustion that he figured was taking a hold of your system. Shouto moved to the dryer, pulling out the clothes he had thrown in to get warm for you. He chuckled softly as he walked back into the bedroom, seeing you curled up in the towel while you snuggled up to try and stay warm. He moved back over to you, taking the towel and throwing it across the room towards the bathroom before moving to get you dressed in the warm clothes.

You sighed as Shouto pulled you in under the covers, holding you close to his body as he used the heat from his right side to heat up the bed. You shuddered as you relaxed against him, closing your eyes as you took a calming breath and ran your hand over his chest slowly. “Shouto… I ah.” You whispered as you opened your eyes slowly, you wanted to talk to him desperately.

“Not now, save it for later (Name). We can talk about it when you feel a bit better and you’ve slept.” Shouto muttered as he rubbed his hands over your back, kissing the top of your head as he closed his eyes in thought.

Your bottom lip trembled as a sob threatened to break from your chest as you shook against him, your fingers pressing into his chest as you curled into him. You nodded in understanding as you nuzzled his chest, kissing over his heart as you whispered your thanks to him. Shouto hummed in response and continued to rub soothing patterns over your back as her let you just stay there wrapped in his embrace. You spent the rest of the day in Shouto’s arms, his presence keeping you calm and often comforting you whenever you would start to panic. You slipped in and out of sleep for the most part of the day, always waking to find Shouto right there by your side while he watched you. You were glad that he was there for you, it made you feel safe and you were honestly glad that you weren’t alone in that moment. You’d never forget the support he gave you or the way he cared for you that day, making sure that you had plenty of time to come to terms with everything that had come to pass. Shouto truly was a blessing in disguise and you couldn’t ask for anyone better to have your back during your trying times, you had everything you needed in him.

[nocancer]

Tryna by Cancer moon

Before Young T went to bed he poured a glass of water and looked out the kitchen window to his backyard and noted how the snow made 3:00 A.M. look like 6:00 P.M.. Only difference being that if he stepped outside with his glass of water to the seeming twilight he wouldn’t be able to hear the rush-hour traffic like he usually could if it was Friday and 6:00 P.M.. Young T didn’t bother going outside because the snow was still falling a little and it’d be there when he woke up. And the neighborhood would still be silent, as it always was.

Young T woke up and his fan was still humming its white noise which he needed to sleep at night even though it was January and his dad was reluctant to leave the heat on over night. The small fan sat on his dresser and was pointed away from his bed towards his window which emitted a sharper and more blinding afternoon light than what he was used to. He checked his phone for the time, it was about noon - about the time where his parents bedroom door would open and their TV would blast the local news and his persian cat, Jo Jo, would meow at his door from which would force him out of bed to open the door so Jo Jo could jump up on his bed to sleep on his pillow from which he would either start his day or keep doing nothing. This time he laid back down, idly on his bed, with the covers pulled over his head to lessen the effects of his slight cat allergy. Jo Jo had a flat face and was grey and fat, and he occupied the entire pillow. Young T thought of how he wanted to trade lives with Jo Jo.

Young T couldn’t fall back to sleep, so he looked at his phone. He bireifly looked at worldstarhiphop, Twitter, then Instagram.

Then he went to bed with a head ache and woke up in college.

9/27/17 wednesday

Tycho: excuse me, hey, getting along just fine, I see? Yolandra: hey, and yeah, sort of, just studying, whats going on with you T: Nothing, the usual, i guess, being responsible, trying not to offend anyone. Y: Oh but you're so innocent. If anyone's offended its on them, not you. T: But my presence alone, I dont know, like I'm out of place or something. And I just want to tell people,  Yeah, so, I know how strange it is, me being here and all. Y: You're a free spirit amongst prisoners. That was my favorite part about getting to know you.

Tycho: After all these years, not for a second did i think you were right for me. And thats why i liked you. Cus I'm crazy. Yolandra: thats okay? what do you mean?, i want to get inside your head again. T: [pause] Most people wouldnt understand. Y: Don't be too cool for school. Im not most people. If I knew what was good for me, I'd have cut ties with you a long time ago. But im a crazy bitch too. Havent you realized? T: Yes. Youre highly psychic when it comes to "free spirits" like me - and you, though maybe, "lost soul" would be a better term for me. Though I dont mind being lost. It keeps things interesting.   Anyway, you should spend your energy on solving world hunger than worrying about me. Y: dont be so difficult. catching vibes isnt easy you know? coming for your type. Who knows, maybe youre worth it. Tycho: well, your the first to try me like this. im mysterious for a reason. Yolandra: And do you know why exactly? T: Thats for me to decide. Y: It's so damn frustrating. But I guess some things are better left unsaid. T: Most people wouldnt understand that, what youre saying. Indescribable feelings we know happened but fall short in explaining. That sort of thing. Y: I call those. "You had to be there" moments. Tycho: Honestly i never gave up on you, only myself, thinking you were different from my dream girl.   it took months for me to realize that but when i did the only thing i wanted to do was forget i ever met you. Yolandra: than what? T: the rest of these simple people that surround us, they see in a way thats opposite of what i am. Y: how convenient it must be. to blame your problems on people you dont even know. and just say "fuck it." I envy you. T: just my luck haha. of being born into myself, my personality forgive me, i dont mean to be such a downer. thats my ego talking Y: you had to be there T: where? Y: in my memories. T: it matters that much to you? Y: if I could find you in a crowd, just to say something, anything, even if i have to scream it in your ear,  then you'd know how much it means to me. Tycho: I'll be waiting for you to say hola.

9/30/17 saturday In the midst of an obnoxious trap beat I remember what my grandpa used to tell me. It's the harsh realities of life that stick with us the most. A dream is only a dream until you make it come true. Never hit a women no exceptions." He would say to a 7 year old me. Now I wish I had the balls back then to tell him that his strict army ass probably never had a dream that went beyond what he already knew. Like revisiting the same shitty cloud of meaningless thoughts every night till you reincarnate into someone who revisits a slightly less shitty cloud over and over until they become someone like me, who lives on the cloud everyone strives to be, forgetting those elvish looking folks of the below who never leave the house except to get groceries. There's comes a point in life where you just gotta be honest with yourself, and say hey, i just dont match the freqeuncy anymore. It's okay. I can still pretend like that one MGMT song, but im fading away. Fuck. I get naseous and imagine a cop coming around the corner which kills my vibe for a second so I take my headphones off, spit on my finger tip, ash the blunt, and walk to my dorm. I'm in water so muddy that the surface is all I have to cling onto. What lies beneath is my past, housing the memories like demons. Of course, her face, would be in the middle. Falling more faintly in detail as I wake up sober and go to sleep high and dream nonsense that somehow doesnt go away like the usual forgotten dream you usually wouldnt give a second thought to otherwise but this morning my head feels foggy and theres a vague recollection of a search going on but I dont know what it's for and my chances of knowing diminish as I go deeper into the day. A search, it's on repeat, like my brain is an actual TV. Thats probably a normal thought to have, though I've never heard it in real words. "Is my brain a TV." I say to myself.                                                                 if you can call it that. but those take the shape of monsters of which, as if I had no choice, I find myself preparing for so when the moment really matters, I can either go down in a blaze of glory or come out on top like the badass I imagine myself to be. All I know is that I was born and now I have to live.

Maybe because my past is so glaringly depicted onto a person I refuse to acknowledge. All that shit was a dream. The only thing that matters is the present, right? Bill Nye the Science Guy would agree with that. Back in elementary whenever we had a sub for the day, a cart would roll in and thats how you knew. I watched his show in elementary school, when we had a substitute teacher. Those were the best days. I had no worries then, able to speak freely with no inhibitions as if duality had nothing to latch its mechanical claws onto. Wait, I'm thinking about the past again. And thats going way back. Fuck! Okay.. On your feet soldier! That baby momma drama dont fly out here in the real world. out here  it's the winners and the losers, haves and the have-nots,  thats the way it is.

We're here to endure anxiety. I dont care about this slave shit. I think im gonna drop out. These fucking people bro, I shouldve known better than to come here. Deep down in the recesses of my highly realized capacity for recognizing everyday objects I'm  hearing the voice my computer makes. It just so happens that I'm a little different from everyone else. I see things. Feel them. Some are expressed. Others proccessed. Though most get put away for later. These things I speak of is all they'll ever be to Some bad. Some good. But in the end I understand the root cause  is nothing and thats where I pretty much exist anyway. In between any and all things, including people. At least that what it feels like. So although I may come off as shy and maybe a bit soft to the average layperson I aint no bitch and I wont hesitate to put my body on the line to make some headway when it comes to cementing my place as a savage demon in the halls of said layperson's memory bank. Someone who is wise would recognize the virtue of my conviction It is only because I must prepare for that singular moment, an unknown point in the fabric of time and space. To where if theyre not careful, a life's worth of energy should be pitted against me as if one were to stand a chance against the power housed within my vessle. Theres no such thing as a polite gesture. Nobody asks me how my day is "going" for no other reason than to relay to me how their own special day is "going". reckoning between a humble acknowledgement that I can never truly grasp the reason for existing and therefor should play my part in keeping the peace, versus pure badass in a world of sheep. And the more I get to know my surroundings, the more I reach erradically for the inherent bliss found within the path of satanism.

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Spmewhere off in the distance, Crermoth sits on a palm tree idly sculpting astral suspensions into a tattered fervor of mesh for working the keys of ineptitude. She is oblivious to her surroundings, not caring for chatty and gossip which she cant seperate between her reality and theirs because she is sensitive and when the the fully recognized sage, Esoh, confronts her about she says she much prefers it that way.

Their balance among them. With the wind at her side, Hojihka refuses the initial preference of her stillness and moves in a nameless precession by the whim of her ancestral birth right. "aaa may-ee soo shay-noo"

Her possession wakes up without a name. a new and more elaborate transposition of jubilee onto each successive indifference. The attention to one area renders the outer confines a vacuum enveloping the excess span unto both of their liable to taken over like a plain, sole, unconscious will. It certainly does its job Crermoth and has become something of a plan b pill thats taken during one of her many unpredictable episodes of self hate and general spiritual torment. One time she told J-Money she was a demon in a matter of factness that still haunts J-Money in moments when he pretends it doesnt bother him.. Reliant upon the interaction of her world and the next. Crermoth normally prefers being to herself on nights like these, that way she can answer any calls at a moments notice. A dimension close enough so that she may assist her friends in earthly manners of which, by the natural law of limitation, those lacking the incessant nobility of the Orisha cannot be bothered to see to themselves, less the tether between her world and theirs be rendered a useless tattered fervor of mesh that gives way to any varitable knock of an over arching brood of usurpment of the mundane frequency. “I need space. I only have but so much light of see to her calling as a being of light, assisting the pieces of herself that we’re lost during the falling. You remember that don’t you?” She says “Of course I remember. But only as a matter of fact. Upon closer reflection I fail to see the relevance of a subtle hunch with no bearings in the present.”

I must know that I’m allowed to be straight up with you, else I run the risk of straying from my calling. If there’s anything I hate more than being ignored its catching myself being lazy to the voices. “She musn’t veer to far.” Esoh said on a mountain.

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The woman wakes up to look around. Store-bought soil, empty bike-rack, office building. "Harder. Think harder. Come on girl." She stands for dignity's sake. A car traces a hilltop in the distance. She raises her cold arms to the sun in defiance of stillness. Nothing is in tune with the nature of her being besides the stale wind of a coming day. "Where are you?" The car freezes as it reaches the horizon, but the sound remains on loop. Whirrrrr A portal manifests abruptly and Elegua arrives on a chariot of skulls. "Erzulie, madame, how nice it is to see you this early in the morning." A whisp of fire cleans her face and the car continues over the horizon. "It really shouldnt be, not like this. Where Im at should tell a lot you know." Erzulie said. "Quite a dense reply to a longtime friend, dont you think" "Hmm, considering how I slept in a bush last night and dont remember a thing. I shouldnt need to explain myself." "No? is the friz on your hair not matching the blood on your knees? I can't tell which." Elegua said.     Or is the attitude possessing you as if theres no consequence for ill-manneredness? I cant tell which." So long as one's not so dense up his selfish ass that he aint notice." "Oh so now all a sudden you about the finer things in life? We can switch places less you miss me. Erzulie said. Im only pointing out the obvious." Elegua said. Erzulie replied with silence, forcing life to flash before his eyes. She learned this from her Mother, Darkness. "Attitude is possessing you. I cant tell why but its a poison I dont deserve. I was only trying to help" He continued. "I just dont fuck with being called too early. So long as youre not too dense up your ass to take notice, safe to say i'm in some shit right now." "Clearly. A product of consequence." Elegua said randomly. "Yeah, recognize. Please, for me, baby?" "No more testing your patience, Goddess immortal of justice. Save that for what I came to tell you about." "Take me to cleanliness, saintly promise of wisdom. For im not feeling myself." They left the scene to the past and pondered on the pyramid they had just made with each other. "It's nice to be home." Erzulie said. Flying over the palm trees brought Elegua back to his power. "On the basis of love." Elegua said. The salt-water washed away all glimpses of doubt Erzulie had of her beauty. And she harnessed the pastels of the ocean. Thus, all guilt was abolished and unconditional love was convinced to dance within them. Drying his body under the rays of Amen reminded Elegua of his first words. Long ago, before Time was born. "O Father, you are so brilliant." "Thank you, son. I am the Light" "Then tell me, Father, if you are the Light, and are so brilliant, then why is it you flee from Darkness?" "All I do is my purpose, which seeks to balance harmony with creation. Although it is much more complicated than that. Like always I suppose. I'm afraid you ask me a question that I cannot answer. Here, because you are so curious, I will show you." "I'm ready, Father." Light grew brighter causing Elegua to cry in his recollection of what it felt like to say words. The links in his mind straining to pull in the right words. Not too plain to where the moment would be lost in happen stance, and not too radical so that his manhood could stay irrefutable (to convey meaning.) Then Light disintegrated into everything and Elegua searched for Light ever since. So Elegua went to the crossroads, and prodded Darkness for Light's wherabouts, "I want to relive the the moments before he left for eternity. Where can I find him?" Without a hug or a kiss, she told him to let go of his experience in order to live in the now, "Take his place and move forward. Grow up, your Daddy's gone cus you never did." "How could you say that me? I love you, Mom. Yet all I get is hate. Why are you hiding the truth from me?" "If I don't hate you, then who will? You got so much to learn that my heart breaks into brass. You must leave, understand me? LEAVE, before I do what your Father did and them some. I'm this close. Believe me." With nowhere else to go, Elegua obeyed the commands of his Mother. Although lonely at first, the spirits of the dead related to his despair, and offered to guide him through all the known and unknown realms of Ether, so long as he guided the spirits of the living to his Mother. So that the dead could learn for themselves the origins of their being dead. And when Light came back, they could say "Father, we know of Hate, now teach us Love." Elegua tried telling them that it was hopeless, that his Father was there, just not in the way they imagined, that they we're actually his Father and they had to realize it through an altered perception. but that negativity only made them more adament to their cause which annoyed Elegua into a manic spell of existential irony which persisted during times of war with the Snakes on 5th density. One battle in particular Badly wounded, he pulled his chariot with his arms to the middle of a corn-field on a full-moon during the Solstice, it was there he made a pact with his self, to never be ignorant to the fact that fate was an inescapable constant within all contributors to existence. That the very fabric that distinguishes the dead from the living was comprised of scattered shards of an indestructable essence that attached itself to the spirit-body via fate which is the Father of destiny. That the collective conscious is woven by the thread of Fate, thus binding a common goal, or Destiny, inherent to all beings of both polarities, thus setting in motion the spiral of gnosis, which lends itself to the spreading of keys that open the doors to helping each other fulfill each others Purpose. "I will collect the pieces of my Father so that I may speak with him again as I did as a child. I will never forget you because I love you. You are everything to me, which is all I ever could be. Please, I want to know why you flee in the face of Darkness."

____10/9/17 monday

My pace quickens as I veer away from the crowd onto the handicap stairs. I silently count my steps to give off a pensive, non-assuming vibe. Over by the quad theres crows just walking on the grass. Yet I'm the only one who seems to notice, even from a distance. The busses haul ass down Memorial St. I've learned to always be on alert because I'll never know whats waiting for me when I turn my attention off the floor and become reminded of string theory. Artificial energy, cork boards with grime on the edges, tunnel of dull ends, spongy plywood cielings. as i step with my head down and in every so sudden a demarcation in the bricks, the reptiles answer emails. This is where I'm going. Because my soul chose to live here at some point in time not too long ago considering the relationship between all that the universe has to offer and my general apathy towards said all as in any and all one. Which has become quite of a bore ever since the first week ended I had to come to terms with the reality that friends won't simply fall into my lap like they would     if I wasnt such      a masochist for being lonely. The row of pillars turn to one and all I see is the contentment in the air of the lobby. In the hallway are casually turned faces which glide about in a linear fashion like the ghost of a lost bride.. I get a side-view of the people afraid to admit that this is far from the paradise we expected it to be. The brochure in our acceptance letters didn't include the drunken nights of another dimension. I'm inside the life of an architect. One who's dead by now, but lives on through his work. I'm not going anywhere, the building would say, if it could talk. And I suppose it can. Because I just had the thought, and nothing is ever truly wrong without another thought to compare it to. But then if buildings could speak existed first, and was allowed to grow and find its place in the universe, then it'd be established enough to not warrant an adversary. But the question remains where, if it existed, was its fate organized before coming into my mind, awaiting my final judgement. Substitute me for a unicellular collective conscious and it seems like we're all dealers of fate her on planet earth of the milky way of the universe of the whatever comes next (should we ever know for sure). he or she deserves all the credit for it manifesting onto the grid of my consciousness, which is a zig zag joint's worth of a high right now. The perfect amount for not giving a fuck while still staying slick enough for witty comebacks. Which wouldn't hurt right now. This building isn't going anywhere. Though I wish it would. Because I dread what I'm about to do How he must have pained to communicate something he could call his own while maintaining a dignified and safe, always safe, because god forgive, well, you know, , putting the pen to the pad, drawing  collumns in front of a Victorian fassad Succumbing to authority just to eat with a roof over your head and not freeze your ass off like a homeless freak. Profit margins in the final half of quarter one are lower than 1 standard deviation to what is considered by corporate to be optimal. As of now, the college has no incentive to ship in product from outside sources. All inventory must be stored in house to the buyer's demand. You better not be late.

___ On the parking deck

Tycho: “I had a dream I was on an internet forum. Someone posted the words: “life is an endless hell. With a blurry picture of a street at night-time. Not much different from what’s in front of us. I thought that made sense, until I scrolled down, to see a video looking out the windshield of a vintage rolls royce, coasting along a pacific highway. And the lines kept going. Next thing you know I’m falling down a pitch black waterslide, dreading my destination. If I never woke up I have a funny feeling i know where it was leading.

Preacher: In that instance did you feel the need to repent for your sins?

Tycho: No. that didn’t cross my mind. It was too late at that point.

Miranda: “I used to.

T: What made it stop?

Miranda: Seeing all the happy people around me. And knowing that they’ve been through the same shit. Break-ups, Death in the family, just generally feeling lost.

My heart was broken ”

T: Getting over the mind can be a dark place when it has nowhere else to rest. You can train it to think anything.”

Miranda: True

Tycho: Lately Ive been taking these long drives late at night into the boonies. Just to see where I up. I realized theres so many lives I’ll never know about.

If i wasnt born into money maybe I’d be humble enough to hate myself for even thinking such a thing.

How’d you get out of that?

Miranda:

These know it all professors are getting on my nerves. I fear Im crossing into an abyss I’ll never fully understand. Honestly I can’t fuckin stand these people. What name do I have to make for myself that i haven’t already experienced in the depths of my soul?

Tyco: You know how they try to act like they all official and shit, like I won’t see past it.

Miranda: [agreement] They do that.

Tyco: [stream of consciousness] So I just told her look I know its a rule, but I’m all about learning at my own pace and no disrespect i love her but Mrs. Soso can only go so far in telling me how to write. You can give tips and tricks but at the end of the day, I’ve been developed my writing style.. Like I thought we were done with all this high school shit. Well I didnt say that.

M: And what’d she say?

Tyco: She was like “As you get further into your major 90% of your assignments will be in essay format.. we require full participation “ At this im like she gonna hit me with the book like hell nah THEN outta nowhere She said “However, I also believe in 2nd chances.”. On the outside I was cool but inside I was like “*fist bump* yo i cannot fail outta college like someone watchin out for me idk who but-

Chad: fuck that shiiiiit *holds up white rum in front of street light”

Friend in background: 12! 12! 12!

Abrupt scene change. Camera shows Tyco zoned out. Then police car, as Tyco begins to hide behind the tree hes smoking on.

My black hoodie and phone-call to my dealer will still be with me tomorrow as I do the same thing.

(From a dream 10/23)

Tyco is driving around serving with Shantel when she lights her phone up from the passenger seat and puts the phone to her ear.

Shantel: You are not finna be talkin all that mess on my phone. Be honest with                  yourself. Don’t lie. You a hoe ass bitch.

?? Caller: Why are you even calling me? I dont give a fuck.

Shantel: Wait till I pull up then and slap the shit out you. Would that be better                     sweety?

?? Caller: I’m at Kawaii’s 30 deep. Bring your lil boyfriend and see what                          happens.

Shantel: Try me bitch.

[ The economy sedan turns right on red seemingly without breaking. ]

Tyco: 30 deep huh?

Shantel: With them ratchets.

Tyco: She sounds scared as hell aint nobody sticken up for her like that. You know they gonna talk shit right but soon as we throw them hands they gon be like, I dont know that bitch.

Shantel: nah but she stupid tho like not even worth all that extra

Tyco: We’re going. Wheres that nigga house i’ll waze that shit and we get there we just pop off. Aite?

[Not looking at the road, but to her, coasting down an average 2-lane with box neon trimmed tire shops and drive-thru windows governed stately as immovable beasts of mothership stores lurk behind low-sodium trenches of the new world order’s surveillence agenda for mass poplations en masse. ]

              Just follow me. I’m walkin in and gonna start a commotion just bussin                 and you just break this bottle on her mother fuckin head and we out.

Shantel: haaah what okay

Tyco: You’re gonna fuck her shit up som serious.

Shantel: She talk shit about you.

Tyco: It’s in the stars babe for real.

Shantel: You gonna help me find that bitch?

Tyco: You my fucken queen I love you and I got you.

Neighborhood entrance.

Cars parked for miles.

House identified first glance.

Park.

Car doors..

Hip-Hop

Grass.

Walkway.

Steps.

Porch.

Door opens and yellow tops within the frame.

!! WHERE YOU AT// YALL FAKE AND CANT FINESSEE !!

AAAAAH YOU UGLY DARK SKINNED NIGROS

The caller is sitting on a couch ass to ass with other dudes. Looking stupid.

She never saw Shantel. Who came upon her like The Ring.

She has become a party magnet. It is a Slayer concert now. Nobody knows who’s who. Though Tyco is surely getting his ass beat. He catches of glimpse of Shantel��s fat ass ducking through the doorway and he could die right now and it wouldnt matter.

*GUN SHOT*

FUCK GOIN ON HERE MANE

“This not the place for you bro. - White boy comin up here in my place of business - Tryna pop shit off like you really not a bitch”

Kawaii looks up with his glock-9 extendo at his GD party mostly all gone just like that. The poor girl is still leaking.

“She need to go to the hospital.” Her friend says.

He points the glock at his head. Despair.

“Look around before I kill you.” An invitation.

Tycho: “I sold a 4 oz today after my accounting exam. I could be GD, 74, rock                            purp. whatever it be its nothing but Respect yo. Got connects with chad and Becky nahmean dog. Could put you on to some numbers they white and they fiends. Please OG.

“How much for a zip.”

“80, gas.”

“Was that yo bitch?”

“yea”

Kawaii: You lyin to me?

“No.”

“She eat your ass?”

“Yeah and bounce on my BIG ASS DICK” Tyco says with autism.

K walks away.

T: they don't even sell Molly bruh

K is you fucken high you dummies. Beat this nigga ass. *Tyco imagines the why the fuck you lyyin vine and remembers the exact moment he realized that wasnt an original song but actually a spin off of a classic throwback jam by the 90s R&B group “Next” in their hit single “Too Close”.. He was driving home from the cafe he used to write high school essays in while smoking a menthol american spirit with the windows rolled down on a spring evening playing KISS 104.1 Atlantas classic jams. Then he realized there was a full 6 minute video of the vine on youtube. After watching it he felt gayer. Thats all it did for him.

Tycho wakes up on living room floor.Terry (random G, on couch): *Hands him note× Kawaii said he's sorry. No hard feelings ya heard dog?

Tyco: I guess thugs act on impulse. *looks at note* and don't count on a gahdamn thing you bitchass motherfuckers. Tyco walks into class with a black eye. The Professor talks about interest loans. Tyco meets Moe after class in parking lot.

*Moe: Waddup

Tyco: It's lemon og I just got in.

Moe: Bet. Those last cookies you got. Bomb dude. It had them frar mother fuckers leanin like they can't handle that purp like that nahmean.*laughs*

Tyco: I got some backwoods you wanna hotbox.

Moe: Yo I'm down.

10/24/17 thursday

____ Last night I decided not to hate myself. The look I get from them doesnt bother me. Really, its a simple sign from nature that I’m used to by now. A wrong impression can sustain the fog of memory, of which I will be seen from the lens of another dimension, with not a care in the world, an angel in disguise. Thats the crux of my life up to this point. To no longer hate myself. But appear as if I still do. The nameless place in our past with no address., one of which even a frat boy can relate to. This invisible standard that’s thrown us into the pits of despair must be addressed. To seperate the real from the fake. Like the others are sleep walking through class fronting like they dont see me. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my third eye, televising scenes of sleep walkers who stay fronting like they dont see me. Walking behind the parking deck where green dumpsters were with my phone to my ear is a feeling that remains within me until I do the same thing over again in a few days. Buying in bulk never appealed to me. And if a 20 a g was the price thered be nothing my lonely ass could do. Fuck this worthless paper, I tell myself.

I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days.

I’m signalling. Though I havent been approached yet.

Figuring that would resolve the look I give other people. I mean, christ, I turned 18 last March. And spent the Summer in a last ditch effort to secure an identity before I made my plays in college. For too long I’ve avoided the call of the light and in return have gotten blank stares.

(SOMEHOW gets wrapped up into a petty conversation with sorirty girl (on top of parking deck.)

Clarissa: I was the only one alone in the entire party.

Tycho: Why didnt you leave?

T: Dont worry I dont wanna know your major.

C; Good cus it keeps changing.

T: You think you know everything dont you? This world aint nothin babe.

C: Why do you say that?

T: What do you wanna know? That I get money? Thats nothin.

Clarissa drifts off.

Hannah: So Stacy’s telling me the banners weren’t in that right place and we’re like an hour away from starting and we still haven’t even got the chairs in order and barely anyone who was suppose to be here has shown up yet.

Tycho: Where were they?

“Well for one, Candace, I dont know whats her problem lately, but shes been gone because her best-friends now telling her she’s not rushing anymore but thats honestly a relief because that girl wheres winged eyeliner and thinks shes better than us.”

Tycho: Oh, I think I’ve seen that girl at the library or something.

     I intuit that in order to justify her reasoning for not liking the winged eyeliner girl, that she channeled my very own resonant storm cloud of which I emit silently in the face of vanity..  

H: Well you’ll probably see her there a lot more cus shes definitely not with us.

“Okay so thats one.” I say as if taking notes.

“Then Rachel’s out at some charity event that I never even heard of probably with a guy she’s not telling us about which is so frustrating that of all days you pick friday night at the peak of rush to go be a hoe behind our backs.”

“Did she ever show up to the party?”

“Yeah. And she was fucking drunk.” She said as if surprised but not really because this is Rachel we’re talking about, after all.

“Like wasted orrr “

“Damn I didnt know yall got down like that.”

“Umm when youre stumbling through the door and your first words to all the new girls is hallelujah bitches!

She wasn’t with a guy.

“So tell me more about the party. Like was there”

who nobody knows anyway

is that Cheyenne is just out of it because her friends now telling her she doesnt want to rush anymore and for one its like look,

Wait, who’s hannah?

Hannah’s the leader of her sorority.

Ooooh, Okay, I see why now

-Yeah, I mean if word got around that would literally mean she was going around their backs to cover up that she was lying.

> Right. Yeah I hear what you sayin. She’s trying to make it seem as if it never concerned yall in the first place but if thats the case then she dont need to be acting like she got the right to be trusted.

This goes beyond reputation. Manipulating emotions just cus she has none of her own. Conniving biitch.  just to get her way goes beyond reputation.

Aint nobody wanna be around that energy.

> So what you tell her?

I get schizophrenic when it comes accepting new ways of being. The person I made him out to be was the perfect cure for my suffering. All those forgetful nights of boredom I knew what I needed all along, but was to scared to do it myself.

------ Frat house halloween party kidnap scene ----

GD shaman prays to shango for power to go out by mantra. Squad in car repeats the same mantra. The power goes out at 1:00 (or peak of the party).

Tycho throws blue flare through the side of the window

at the Tycho must find Chad and lure him downstairs near the door so the squad can get the keys to the room full cocaine and adderal. After looking everwhere he’s no where to be found. He walks in on a couple having with the girl in missionary with devil ears. “Yo chad that you?” Its

(fuckem x3) Music stops from power so he sneaks in wireless speaker in his robot costume  and puts it at one end of the room. Squad member 1 will carry bigger wireless speaker and set it down when he storms in. Tycho also brings a timed strobe light to distract people and keep the illusion of the party still going.

Tycho runs down stairs and towards door with chad chasing him. Squad slaps tape and mask on him and carries like a battering ram although theyve already kicked the door.

*Power turns back on*

“Fuck em, fuck em, nigga get out my section

Don’t want to see him, I don’t want to touch him

*waves zippo lighter in front of face so chad can see him through mask*

“Ima count 3 seconds and your dead on 5 if i dont get this combination” says calmly. thus saiyth the lord thy god”

“Three... No mercy”

“Two.. Shall be given unto those”

*gives code*

          “One.”

Love takes many shapes and forms.Tycho never opened up to people, hating himself for being incapable of feeling what others felt. He wanted more so he went spiritual. Which his close friends perceived as going off the deep end."Ayy whatsup bro you tryna smoke?""I have a calc exam tomorrow but I'm down after."Aight good luck on your studying tonight and then kill it tomorrow I know you got this calc is your specialty can't say the same for me but that's why you always tutored me haha."Let me know if you need more help. Figuring their was no bounds and he could be whatever, even silent, and experience irony rather than fate. How bland, he thought, to have a life plan and nothing to look forward to. Running drugs would be a necessary chain reaction. The highest elixer exceeding the bliss provided by the very weight he'd be pushing, itd be getting off on defying his own life, leaving spirit his only option. And so like a blackbird his soul seeks experience only in the clearest degree of visibility. Swerving transgressions of lonliness to levy the burdens of contrived responsibilities at societies every turn until his flight patterns veer from the trodden path to and fro the calling of reality in which he desires to preside over as a God of many statures. Untainted by works, head first into the entity of the adversary, of which he is able to predict the situational consequence in only a glimpsing moment before havoc ensues and the final hour is upon him, his loose wings coated with astral charcoal of depravity. Be caught slipping once and he loses the jump until the enevitable program takes its course - an unstoppable relationship between fate and reckoning that must be fulfilled as day turns to night. Once that happens he reverts back to being like the rest of them. Yet to the world, now desolated beyond repair, hed still be alive, exuding a calm presence that something is not quite right with him existing without remorse. The truth is simple enough, a hint just ever so slight as to never be able to cross the threshold of utterance, thus becoming rendered a convinction of self delusion on the part of the unknowing accuser, who by this time hates himself for even thinking badly of such a good guy to make peace with.  The collage curtails past the illusion of what is already known and at last the watchers take notice and thus regeneration is able to take place along all the land, allowing for new energy to take the throne of anticipation. One that has harnessed the potential to become anything the wonder puts his mind too. So what if I'm imaginative? Yolandra: I mean everyone's different in their own way. Like yeah the soroitys have a dress code and all that Starbucks and capris. But I don't know. You just have to get know a person for who they are and not how the outside world perceives them to be. T: So what'd you first think of me? Yolandra: Honestly not much anything. You were one of those people who could be anything. But then I overheard you say taurus's are gold diggers and I hated you cus I'm a taurus. T: Oh sorry I really didn't mean it like that but c'mon now I can tell you have a taste for finer things you bougie little.. Boob. *laugh\ haha "you know what I mean" It doesn't bother you? What? That so much could go wrong so quickly? Look, deep down he's telling you his heart lies with getting over and you let him because that's /just what you like about him, how deep he gets. cus he's a sad and selfish individual who was never about loving anything other than vanity. The best thing to do would be to trust his actions, intentions aren't what's important right now. Really, forget about the soul connection. Loves comes through all types of people as long as you're open to receiving them. Those energies. Don't lose yourself in the illusion. Without ever taking credit for what truly matters which should be you. Then your fashion made sense to me. T:  I'm so caught up in myself. I mean, it's impossible to know anything else. I'll never get to stand in your shoes. Its just truth. Yet I'm the bad guy. You're not like the other people I've met. T: Yeah I'm kind of loner if you couldn't tell already. I guess that's a good thing.T: Hey it's okay. I get that a lot... Wait what do you mean you guess? Ive found that who evers saying does a 180 in their normalcy.  Knowing your even here right now is a good thing. Knowing that you're with me even when im not. Don't you think? Starting out with confidence and ending strong to be lucky if I'm not hurt. Tell me what you want out of this. Sometimes I feel so lame, then I realize how fun itd be to not care. Through the window screen i see parchments and grass blades, this is an image I've sought to ignore for its blandness thinking I was over recognizing such mundane structures. The sunlight made me drunk with non verbal contemplation. I crave this heat when I'm in low spirits. And a breeze when I'm high. My thoughts are channeled from a lonely place (My thoughts come from a lonely place)  I've had no choice but to become accustomed to for my own sanity. To work faster and breach that veil of reckonning. So unreachable and enticing at the same time.T When I'm alone, welcome something more than the past if you ever cared to help me. This isn't the only world out there. And even if it was the material would eventually reach infinity. Then a black hole would open or something. Don't quote me on that, science is the hottest thing going right now. It cant hurt to butt in unofficially. As long as no one calls you on it. The universe molds to your confidence. That's another story. At the end of the day, I have too much pride to be a scientist.  The God they're serving calls for a lot of self sacrifice. A self that ignores emergency when called to speak. A self i'm not prepared to lose. "Why are you here again, nothing will change, you're gonna be quiet like last time" any handle on reality I had during the sun rise flees like an ex girlfriend into the night. I'm not prepared to lose. Anxiety is that humid feeling you get when roughnecking the time away. Jaded peripherals, internet browsing, and fading friends initiate a color spectrum so cruelly vivid in its inability to be shared with the CVS cashier who looked at you wrong because you bought 3 4oz bottles of robitussin. A man who couldnt care to see the streets, stop signs, and traffic lights. Man is a slang term we use when caught in the moment. Of which matrix programming loves to grasp onto. --- 10/25/17 wednesday So here I am enjoying a piece of lackluster nothing for the sake of something I've agreed to experience in a past life I can't even remember but somehow must make amends to as if its an actual concrete thing I can touch and make sense out of without caring to ponder how life puts us in these type situations like getting your hair done a new way and meeting a friend of a friend superficially without ever following up like aight word up bro I feel you by the way hows life and what's the special fact I should become one with in this moment while not thinking too much in to things or else id be alone as if we're not alive under the stars for any other reason than to be happy but still to me that becomes too much like a flash in time rather than something meaningful because then sex would have to be our purpose for being here but you and I both know it's more complicated than that so we look into it via memories and realize the journey was brighter than the reward as in I don't remember the actual sex part but rather the day as a whole with stained glass sprinkled in on a film reel to push the past into something real and unexplainably alluring to the self of which we projected this light onto in order to perhaps know in advance maybe how to repeat this metaphysical phenomenon for a second time because we're not quite there yet although at this rate if seems that to finally reach a state of thereness would mean we wouldn't be able to be here right now having this conversation like a building block struck from below or a house of cards we have to keep faith that every moment plays its part because we had an emotion for it and therefore couldn't be rendered to nothing in a wreckless attempt force it all together rather let each tile compliment it's neighbor and bypass the need for destruction by allowing enough caring energy to flow through that filter mechanism within you that deems lifes moments as worth remembering or forgetting and pretend you never heard about forgetting and avoid it like the plague because everything that ever was is depending on you to go forth into righteous so that gods original intention for letting go of unwanted baggage be synthesized within your vessel of upgrades intelligence so that the journey can still be appreciated only this time without th deceptive veil of the end. to question the little things that somehow don't mean much but at the same time appear to us daily as conduits for good fortune and thats what we must uphold ___ 11/2/17 thursday

I you and me playcated on a surface of stones that match our longing to search in the wrong places. Convenient are we done such a conceivable time that is time which is also time because what more can be said other than us winding down a fire escape to an inexplicable hatch sitting like paper mache on our transformative spiritual natures. Gone already but not forgotten just make sure to take the negative side of every situation involving 1 or more parties so as to make sure the rythym is in order because you can't go wrong with challenging the status quo of an area you're not suppose to be in even if that seems too easy and superficial it's the right choice because even the idea of rebellion as a bad thing must be able to project into a physical thing prompt for examination so secrets may be revealed. Wouldn't you know i stopped believing in faith due to its redundancy of chasing metaphysical strings too far out for us to put into words and isn't that the source of all our angst. Depraved of propositional phrases and elemental tables it's all so clear to me now. Casandra had a bag and Mikey had his sneakers in the forefront like a low hanging fruit but of course they had personalities that weren't so easy to see unless the hard work of interfacing came into the equation. Lets judge people based on judging for the sake of basing ourselves onto something not within our realm of reality. Perception is a hard question i think maybe inanimate objects could tell us a thing or two. Low pressure sodium lamps.Documentorial lecture hall amps failing to reach the end of the pyramid turned 90 degrees away from its focal point. May disease not reach our unexplainable selves if ever they may inhabit our temporary vessels like a friend who has no friends but you and wants desperately to get along with others but is attached to your ways. Are we in hell? What can our astral travels tell us about signaling locations with Etheric marks of time dialation. Things are what they are by defintion or they wouldn t be things however stepping the observer up a notch sets in motion cancer to grow from the singular notion that we ourselves separate on a cost of lightening our load. I am partly responsible for this mess we have made. Pulling my hair out in thin strands so as to not make a difference. Some people just don't understand what it means to be so far gone yet in a place of enchantment that lets us know we're not alone as Michael Jackson plays on the ham radio and Wikipedia says the song was written by r kelly. I'm a solitary young man, joined at the seams complacency and red-ridden vanishing points to a line of sight I'd rather not identify with if I had a choice. I'm seriously considering becoming rich and famous despite others already forcing me to. I guess eventually my spirit will give in as my soul looks from a distance and says what a fool I am then goes about his day. You can't be like the rest of them no matter how hard you try. Thinking on the sensualities you avoided after this rap shit led you no where. The palace at the height of creation where Jesus stopped and stared to collect his thoughts before he kept going when his alarm rang as his slave bending consistency tracked the new melinnia into a moldy piece of sandstone cheese the better of which tasted nutty with fruity notes and 80% abv shards of liquid glass on the throat thatd make even an immortal weep a shy tear or two. The pigs down in Mississippi feel things we can't understand in their slaughterhouse decrepit and forwarned in a musk ridden air flow that's non existent to hypocritical angels who were supposed to stop atrocity but opted to sit on their ads and play virtua tennis all day. Oink says the pig. Hee haw says the donkey. Give me life says the God and there on the 30th night fags came to tell the story on their faces. The bag lady told them to shut up and stop whining but they wouldn't listen though they lost their ability to speak. Goodness gracious me oh my great balls of fire. Great balls of ball you are the Lord of my lonely century in this dimension I took awareness to when I allowed you into my heart space.And then I left asking my self: Who is this I?

755559888a

Let’s stand for a while and think about the dastardly ways we have gone under the waters and flew away from temptation. Have us saying isnt it so pretty to be in something and have that to fall back on due to the struggles of forgetting the place we come from which didnt always have it out for us this bad in refusing us of inconjunctions we can at least point to and blame our problems on saying “See! There, I told you so. That’s why we cant find our beginning!” And we’ll keep toilling the fields as halflings saving up for a chance to leave the very universe we serve. “So thats more like it. Finally something I can get my flows on to” Shelly the alien said. “The Stars dont have to like you just because you see them. They have their place and so do we” Gerald said. “Oh but they do.” “How do you know?” “Well for one they always shine bright at the most oppurtune times, like when I’m feeling down about the part of myself that conveinently seems to escape me just when I need it most. If that be so then put me on to something else and that’ll do just fine.” “Perhaps you're not as big as you thought ”  Gerald held up his hand to salvage what was left of the dissolving psychic barrier between them. An invisible giant with an ocd issue. For now he could only listen. “No im not here to choose and thats exactly why Im not afraid to go where you can’t. Having the courage to admit your wrongs requires as much energy as universal rotation itself - a force which exists beyond our pleaidien awareness. ” “ But Shel- Okay whatever” Gerald paused and rolled the horizon through his scaly fingertips. “Keep calling on the unknown and you might get lost because it’s been there forever and sometimes Look, Shelly, no offense, you know I love you, but your awareness has no filter on what representation it can cling onto like danger isnt a reality to you. Me and Dazel always had to look out for you and thats just in this world what makes you think you can take on things you cant even see? “But do you believe in me? Anyone can say they love me. I’ve been hearing that my whole life. So much that it holds the same meaning as “um” does in conversation. Is that really the final conclusion we have at the end of the day? That you love me? Besides, I dont think you really meant that.”

“Here goes Miss Type-1 personality again. Always needing to label circles into squares, stars into gods, this as that, out of an inability to cope with insecurity. Leaving the rest of us as unwilling participants.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG IN NATURE?”  Shelly bawled.  

The beach of Temofose was out of walking distance from the orange cottage they grew up in with there Mom. When they were young it was somewhere theyd go when they had nothing else to do. Euweu Sister Beach was the brighter of the two, but now too populated for their liking. Temofose is less frequented by other families and polluted by cargo ships and a lack of open views but as they stood there a semblence of twilight through the holographic cages offered closure to the purpose of them arguing in the elements about a timeline Shelly was going to step into  And no matter what argument he could put forth, Gerald thought of it fruitless unless he spoke from his heart, a heart of which Shelly was currently taking the place of, so that he could not use it against her. “Shelly, I just hope you can understand how I dont want to let you go.” “I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s my choice. Have a good njght Gerald. I love you” She said as she went into darkness.

Summer Break 2018

As a street light exploring strip malls, I am a linoleum tile on top of a trapezoid emitting frames of rave scenes. Heres where I find myself walking through last nights dream of the gang member selling duck pussy then getting assaulted by a pizza guy and a cop. Alone after those nights. Seems love was never meant to be expressed but felt. I look inside to see if I’m about to die, seeing diamonds mixed with sky. Materializing in the backdrop of my memories. Now I know why.

Now I know.

Then a wren on the fence manifests when it needs to. The perspective pyramid is that I pleaded for a higher calling. There’s nobody bohemian as me.  One day I’ll take this civic off the road and escape into my sacred grove. If only I wasnt such a bitch.

I carry my single briefcase through the airport parking lot. I’m hot and out of breath. Everyone watching me. I can read their thoughts but not my own. They say look at the guy who isnt me but is still conscious enough to move his vessel.

The a/c runs down to the end of the terminal, but my spirit is squared by the stores selling vain material. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my mind’s eye televises scenes too chaotic to put into words. Walking through customs is an event to be remembered, I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days. I board the flight to say finally I am my own religion. If I was flying over africa I’d see bon fires, but over Georgia I only see street lights. Thinking how absurd that they will speak of me as crazy. Others will listen. A vibration through these amber aisles to look no further than my destiny. Because everyone has their destination is the way it goes. I refuse. I’m tired of being a number. Atlanta had its place. Now I’m homeless in Tokyo. This is the not-so perfect end to the chapter planned out for me by the higher power. Not-so bad neither.

Save me. I’m on the other side now.

[rhapsodosu]

Psychotherapy, Chapter 1

[x] Hi, so this is a fanfic that I've actually stopped writing a long time ago because my heart was broken. But! I figured I owe the IR fandom a thing because most people back then were an excellent support group, that's why I decided to continue.

This is also in FF and AO3.

Summary: "After a long day of hearing my patients' issues, I wake up and find a half-naked woman on my bed, staring at me like she had known me forever. Who is she? I don't know. All I know is she changed my life in many ways." Pairing: Ichiruki, T/M, AU

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Time is such a cruel thing,

But love is even crueler.

I may have known her for only a few days,

But she turned me to another person.

A better me.

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Hi, I am Kurosaki Ichigo, 27 years old, a psychiatrist at my own clinic. Actually, it also serves as my home—I live in this three-story structure without any other living soul but me.

Why, you think?

I also think about that sometimes. Why do I live alone? Because I want to be alone. I need to be alone. But why? You may be thinking about that again.

Let's go to my family.

First and foremost, my dad, Kurosaki Isshin, is a doctor at Karakura General Hospital. Don't get me wrong by saying this though—he's a good provider, and my childhood was good because he was goofy and (excessively) happy most of the time. I have two sisters—twins—named Yuzu and Karin, which are both living under my dad's custody as of the moment. The last thing I heard is that Yuzu's taking off with her culinary career, and Karin, in her soccer team. We were all happy together. Well, our house is always noisy and stuff (you get the picture), but we were happy.

Except that my mom had to die.

Kurosaki Masaki is the sweetest woman I have ever known. She always put us first even though it hurts her, and maybe that is the reason why we only knew she had ovarian cancer when it was already on its last stage. She kept it a secret, even from dad, just for the purpose of not being an inconvenience to any of us.

Her death wasn't an easy thing for us. Yuzu didn't stop crying for months, Karin didn't want to talk, and I didn't know what to do in order to forget that rainy night when my mom breathed her last in the hospital. Dad, although he was the most hurt, kept smiling at us and encouraged us like nothing ever happened—and that is why I hated him. Back then I cannot understand how he could still smile even though mom was gone, and I really despised him.

I even got to the point where I lost my faith in him and blamed him for everything. I promised to myself that when I graduate college, I'll live away from him, which exactly brings us back to the fact that I am living alone in this building.

Most of the time, during the days, my patients go in and out of the first floor in order to share their psychological and emotional problems with me. I am not an expert, though. I can only give some tips for improvement, but it still depends on my patients if they will follow me. Anyway, the second and third floors are my refuge.

No one has ever stepped inside of this except me, my friends, and my sisters.

The truth is, I never had a girlfriend, so it's just me here. It's by choice, though. I want to enjoy my life first before rushing into things like 'love', or 'commitment'. It's just not my kind of thing.

And then came this day, November 2, 2008, Sunday—a day I cannot seem to tear away from my mind.

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Session 1: Pwned

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After a long day of hearing my patients' issues, I fell on my bed and buried my face on my pillows. It's like this every day. Like you're carrying your own burdens, and then my patients share their problems and place more stones on my backpack.

I fall asleep really fast but when my throat itched, my eyes automatically flew open—I looked at the clock and it was already 2 a.m. Still groggy, I aimed to get up to get a swig of water downstairs, but something restrained my movements.

I blinked in the darkness and sat up.

An arm was wrapped around my waist and it trailed to the other side of the bed. I blinked again thinking that I was dreaming lucidly, but the image didn't disappear. I followed where the mystery limb lead to and instead, I was brought face-to-face with a pale face whose eyes were very much open and were gawking at me.

A scream unwillingly escaped my throat in defense. "WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK-?!"

Before I knew it, I was on my footing, clinging to the baseball bat which was always resting on my bedside. I tapped frantically on my lampshade to reveal the trespasser-but what welcomed me was a half-naked, raven-haired woman, lying on my bed and smiling expectantly as if she had known me for years.

Well… I can say I didn't see only her face. I mean, she was wearing a blue button-down with half of the top buttons open, revealing her, ah… black, lacy,sexy—undergarment. Her bottoms weren't bad either, they were matching the top, but for a second I thought they were much thinner.

Not that I was staring intently, but she didn't have any pants on. I held on my bat even tighter.

"Hey," she said coolly and waved her hand. "I didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

"Wha-Who are you? Why are you on my bed?" Acid was quickly rising in my voice. Maybe she was sent by Renji as a joke? I remember him always telling me to screw around. "If you're sent my any of my friends, just get outta here."

She chuckled and threw me a glance that annoyed me even more. "Friends? No. And why are you staring at my legs?"

The statement caught me off-guard. Heat crept up my face and my head automatically jerked on my left. I swear I specifically intended to look angry.

"Shut up! Just get off of my bed! Take some money if you wish and go, or I'll call the cops."

She shook her head. "Sheeesh. I am not a thief, bakamono. I was just borrowing your clothes."

And that explains why the blue button-down she was wearing looks highly familiar to me. Because they were mine. Damn this woman.

"And who told you to wear my clothes!"

"You were asleep, duh. I was respectful enough not to wake you." She stretched her legs on the bed, but her eyes were slightly glaring. "And be thankful that I didn't wear your pants, because I don't like pants in general."

"Ah! So it's me to blame now! You're trespassing on my home, stealing my clothes, and then complain about my fashion sense! Really, now. I should call the police!"

I went to the drawer where my phone was and started punching in the hotline when I heard her chuckle. I threw my glare upon her direction, but the unashamed woman was wearing a rather smug look on her face. I double-took her expression. Dammit, what's with that face?

"You don't have to call the police. I mean no harm."

"And why should I believe you?"

She smiled again, but a lot softer this time. Not seductively, but warm. It felt really sincere. "Just trust me. I just badly need a place to stay." She raised her hands up like in a double pledge, the purple in her eyes easily attempting to convince me further. I wasn't aware when or why it happened, but I found myself letting go of the tension in my shoulders as well as the makeshift weapon that I was holding. Something in her attitude calmed me down without even trying-and admittedly, it was half-annoying.

I sighed exasperatedly as I rubbed the bridge of my nose-she sat on the mattress and titled her head in what appeared to be curiosity and relief, maybe. "You haven't answered any of my questions properly. Or at least thank me for not whacking you in the head, you woman."

"What if I refuse to answer? I told you to trust me."

"Well you know, nobody trusts a random stranger barging in their homes, the kind that steals clothes and shares the bed."

The woman laughed yet again, and this time, she slid down to sit on the edge of the bed with her creamy, luscious legs crossed. I noticed that they were fairly long-and creamy-but at the same time she was also kinda tiny.

Is she a… whore? I thought.

"Hey, I'm not promiscuous. Not a whore." The oddly placed bang in her forehead swung left and right as she did the same motion with her head. "As I said, I just need a temporary place. I had an emergency-"

"-And what is that emergency?"

"It's a secret." A secret of course. If she wasn't a thief then probably she was a spy from the government, I thought. Who knows? They get pretty Big Brother-ish these days. I had to press on.

"Hn. And how did you get here?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed at my balcony. "Duh, I climbed. And your windows were open."

"Whoa, whoa, that's-" I blurted out of amazement. How many women could climb up three stories high, not to mention in her undies!

"Yeah, I know. I am amazing, right? I'm the first woman you know that climbs up three stories high."

"How are you sure you're the first?" She was, in fact the first, if I'm not gonna count the characters in the movies that I've been watching.

"…You're pretty transparent." She said, her eyes meeting mine. At that moment, I felt nothing but frustration. I was a psychiatrist and I should be the one studying her, but it was the other way 'round. There's this realization that no matter how much I look straight in her eyes, or how I try to simulate her gestures, I cannot fathom what she'll do and say next.

This was new to me—usually, I could tell whatever my patients are thinking in just a glance. But she was… different.

At that precise moment, I knew I was being drawn unconsciously towards this woman I barely know. In a way, it was frightening and impressive at the same time.

"Give me back my clothes."

There was a moment of silence of just staring, and that's when her hand went to my shirt and started unbuttoning the remaining buttons, showing off more of her skin.

"Alright then."

My palms slapped on my eyes in panic. "Matte-matte! Why are you stripping in front of me? Are you crazy?!"

"You're not the type to do anything nasty." I could hear her nonchalance.

Of course I could only assume what her expression, but I knew she had got rid of my shirt completely because I heard a thud and a soft thing landed at my feet.

"Hey, why are you so uptight? It's not like I am naked."

"Shut up! Put it back on!"

"Ah?How d'you know I got rid of it? You're peeking on the spaces between your fingers."

I felt steam coming out of my ears. "I am not!"

"Then you should remove those. I am telling you, I am not naked. I have my underwear inta—"

"-Just! Put it back on—"

"No, listen to me, you dummy. I am not naked." Then I heard her footsteps approaching me, and cold hands gripping mine and yanked them away from my face.

"Stop it you—what are you trying to do-" I paused to look at her, and I saw what she meant by not naked. Of course. She had my sheets covering her body. Why didn't I think of that?

"See." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not naked. Blankets have other uses, idiot."

My knees buckled for a moment, a thousand thoughts running through my head. Yes, I admit. I have never seen a woman in a highly provocative outfit, and the mere thought of seeing one straight in her undies is so…

Wrong?

Sexy?

Only hormones and you're imagining things?

My head suggested me. I actually picked the third one, because it's the most logical. I mean, as a psychiatrist, I know what sexual tensions mean. But that's only because this I haven't been stuck in this kind of situation after 27 long, careful years.

"Uh-huh…" I just ran out of words as I sat on the other side of the bed. I had both hands on my head, trying to figure out what was really happening. Maybe I just needed to take care of it as soon as possible. Maybe my hormones were driving me crazy.

I mean no woman wearing undies would climb up three stories high, borrow your clothes, and take your interest. No way. This stuff happened only in porn movies.

Not that I watched one.

"Gods, I never knew I am this tension-ed inside."

My eyes darted back to her direction to check if she was just a figment of my imagination. Nope. She was still there. I had the impression that she was expecting me to offer her the bed, but I was so tired to actually do anything else. The bed adjusted well under me when I collapsed on top of it, I closed my eyes and attempted to block out any other thought. I was thinking that if I ignored her, she would just go. A few moments later and the light went off and the bed slightly creaked on the other side.

"Thanks," I heard her murmur. And then something soft pressed on my forehead before I completely dozed off.

I woke up from the loud beeping noise coming from my phone. I didn't have any problems with waking up and being disoriented though—in my childhood I had to learn how to be alert once I opened my eyes because every day my pops would bust in my room and try to kill me with his butterfly kicks. Luckily I had learned something from my taekwondo classes and I had a counterattack to whatever the mad man would do to me.

After several failed attempts, I was finally able to grab my phone to turn the alarm off. In the process, I caught sight of my blankets cast down on the floor. Then it hit me.

Oh yeah, I told myself. Was it a strange dream? Sexual tension?

The blanket was back on my bed after throwing it distractedly. Thinking of a way to ease the tight feeling in my gut, I went straight to my bathroom and… well… I stripped down and turned on the tub faucet.

Good baths in the morning. I thought, slipping to my bathtub. Actually, I was thinking of a more effective way a release, but what the heck. Baths are good no matter what.

"After that, you might want to get breakfast?" A low feminine voice came from the door.

"Ah, yeah. I think that's good." I answered without thinking, before realizing what really was happening.

I jerked my head towards the door and found a raven-haired woman leaning on its post and a squeak involuntarily found its way out of my throat.

Oh shit. It wasn't a freaking dream after all. She was still in my flat.

"Y-you! H-how did you—" My hands automatically covered my crotch. "What are you doing here!"

"You're quite forgetful." She grinned and placed a hand on her hips. "And don't cover anything, I can't see it even without your hands." Then she turned her back on me and left the bathroom.

"H-hey! You fool! Where are you going?" Too late. The stranger was gone and I hear her light footsteps on the wooden staircases.

I swear I almost had my first major heart attack back there.

I found her in the kitchen (she was still wearing my shirt, and a pair of my favorite boxers to my grimace), her back leant against the marble counter. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes were focused to me as I descended the stairs, and there was an expression on her face like she won some contest.

"Hey." She simply said, gesturing over the table. I was taken aback.

"Woah." My feet carried me faster than usual, the scent of maple and bacon overpowering and taking control of them. This was definitely what a guy wants early in the morning.

"Gotta admit, this is good."

"I know, I made them." She went forward and sat on a chair on the table side across me, eyes still persistent on my face. "I'm good at cooking."

And she was right. In my mouth were the most delicious bites of strawberry-maple pancakes I have ever tasted. That plus the crunchy bacon. Plus the crisp black coffee.

I nodded, but I raised a brow at her. "This doesn't change things. You still trespassed."

"I can't say I'm sorry, your place is nice. But, I just needed this for an emergency, Ichigo."

"What is your emergency, anyway?" Then I remembered another important thing that I missed on the first question. "And who are you? How d'you know my name?"

"Sheesh. I saw it on the certificates on the first floor."

"You went on my clinic?"

"Yeah. I just peeked. But I didn't steal anything." She bit on the pancake pierced by her fork, her face contorting on a thoughtful look. "Ichigo. Your name's nice. It means strawberry."

"Yeah, I mean no!" I snapped at her, dropping the bacon I was about to bite. "Why do you roam around my house without my permission. And my name, it means the one who protects!"

She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, sorry. And. I like strawberry more. Or I can call you carrot-top if you want to—"

"HELL NO! JUST ICHIGO!"

"Fine, fine, I-chi-go." She sighed and became silent for a while as we ate our breakfast.

My mind was never at peace though. She was like a big jigsaw in front of me that I have to solve without the original pattern. The only thing I know about her is that she cooks well and she looks good on my clothes. Not to mention she wasn't a bad egg to begin with.

I cleared my throat to speak. "So, for the nth time, who are you? You seem to avoid the question."

She stared at me for a moment before grinning. "I am nobody."

"Be serious."

"Geez. You're so uptight—"

"Answer me. I want to help you on whatever your emergency is."

My stomach churned when she tilted her head and leaned forward. It was the first time I was seeing her up close. Despite the paleness of her skin and the stray bang on her face… she was more than gorgeous by any standard.

"My name is Rukia." It was a half whishper. "I need a place to stay for a few days. That's all I can tell you."

I pressed on. "Why? Don't you have any relatives?"

"No." She bit her lip, slightly hesitant. "I am an orphan." She looked away and chose to look down on her hands. That gesture meant she wouldn't answer anything personal again.

"Why did you choose me though?" I found myself leaning closer to her across the table instead. "Pretty sure there are many opened windows elsewhere."

Rukia shrugged. "I don't know, I just picked this. It was a clinic to begin with. Maybe someone was charitable enough."

"And what if I was an opportunist?"

"I know you're not. Besides, I know how to fight."

I grinned at her coincidentally at the thought of someone so tiny throwing kicks and punches. "What if I am an offender and I happened to know taekwondo and aikido?"

"Well…" She started slow with an expression that I can't read, and the next thing I knew was my back was pressed against the cold hardwood floor and Rukia was pinning my body with her legs. Her hands were on the opposite sides of my head, holding my arms in restrain.

"…I know Judo." Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I am the best on the mat."

Blood rushed up to my cheeks, not to mention in other parts of my body, but before I could say anything, she was up again and a few feet away from me. How did she do that so fast?

"You can't offend me."

I got up, dusting off my PJs with a scowl on my face. "Shut up. It was just a scenario."

"No, you shut up. You are so uptight. That's why you don't have a girlfriend."

I glared at her even more for being so freaking instinctive. "How do you know?"

"You always blush when I am near. You get roused when I am near."

"That's not true! I do not blush—" But warmth is creeping on my cheeks again.

"Really? Look at you."

"I am not!"

"Oh gods." She titled her head and narrowed her amethyst eyes at me like she was accusing me of something horrible. "If you're not so stuck up then come upstairs with me Ichigo and let's have some good se—"

"FINE! FINE!" I literally growled at the petite woman, but she didn't seem fazed. I sighed as I sank back to my seat.

"Fine. I do not have any girlfriend." There were a few teenage flings, but."None since birth. Can't afford it."

"Yeah, I know." There was an unashamed pat on my hand in a feigned sympathy. "Do you want me to get you one?"

"What! Get me one! Are you a pimp, Rukia?"

"No, of course not. Let's just think of it this way." She raised a finger and pressed it on her chin like she was lecturing a child. "I teach you how to get a girl in exchange of letting me stay here for a couple of days. How's that?"

"You gotta be kidding, I don't need that."

"Oh, I know you do. You need it—"

"I do not!"

"—and you know I don't have money to pay you—"

"Then get a job!"

"—and it's the only way I could repay you for letting me stay here—"

"Who said you could stay here!" I slammed a hand on the table. "I don't know you, Rukia. Why am I going to let you stay here? Give me a reason."

She became still for a while, and what I could hear is only my puff of breaths for being so pissed off. I forgot what I was angry about the next second when she touched my cheek.

"Because you are kind. That's the type of man you are, Ichigo."

Rukia then rose from her seat and proceeded to the stairs without glancing back at me. My feet were kept grounded while my eyes watching as her figure disappeared into the hallway, and my hand grazing the warm spot where her fingers were moments ago.

It was an epiphany-I realized I had been defeated.

For not being to react nor object when her skin touched mine, albeit for the shortest time.

For staring at her retreating figure with a funny feeling in my gut.

Rukia was really something.

Something I never knew I wanted, or needed.

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A/N: So, how was it? I tweaked some minor things in the story that I thought were just funky when I first wrote it. Tell me how it went? : ) By the way, my mainblog is at ogenkiyuki if you guys wanna drop by. :)

[chibioniyuri]

So, I wanted to share my current medical status with y’all, but only if you want to actively read it, so I’ll be throwing it behind a cut. Plus it’s pretty long. So there’s that.

So, I have a brain tumor.

Only, technically not. It’s within the skull but outside the dura mater, the protective membrane around your brain itself. So, technically not a brain tumor.

But let’s start from the beginning.

Starting around summer of last year, my grandmother was in and out of the hospital. Falling without being able to get up on her own, leading her to spend the entire night sitting on the floor waiting for someone to visit her because the phone was out of reach. Pneumonia extending her hospital stay. Getting home and refusing the home health care my uncle and aunt set up for her. Falling again. Repeat.

Around August-ish, my aunt was cleaning her apartment for her and found pain killers stashed all over the apartment. In bottles. Free pills on her walker. Next to the phone, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, stashed in both nightstands. Turns out she’d been asking nearly everyone who visited her to bring her bottles “because she was running low.” Including us. We could get large bottles of Excedrin from Sam’s Club for cheaper than were available in her country. We’d bring over two extra large bottles. We didn’t think anything of it; our visits were spaced roughly four years apart. But concurrently, some tests were showing the beginning stages of liver and kidney damage that could be caused by self-medicating in the way my grandmother was.

Cut to me. “Wa-oh,” says I.

For like two and a half years, that I could remember, I’d been having trouble sleeping. Beyond the normal, that is. Taking over an hour to fall asleep, sleeping roughly three hours at a time, eventually needing to take naps on my days off just to function safely on my work days. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I was finishing school. Looking for a house. Moving back into my parents’ house so I wouldn’t have to break a lease when I finally found “the one.” Exposing myself back to my dad’s special brand of tough love. I figured it was just stress, and that it would go away when things were less hectic.

They didn’t.

Right around April of last year, my headaches starting spiking. Again, I didn’t think much of it. For most of my life, I’ve dealt with headaches. I’ve become a pro at the art of ignoring the headache away. But suddenly, I was having migraine-level headaches, frequently. I explained it away as lack of sleep. This was about a year and a half into the lack of sleep saga. It seemed reasonable to me. And I was more concerned about the nearly-falling-asleep-while-driving and the crying on the way to work and the endless feeling of “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

But these new headaches were debilitating. So... I started self-medicating. A lot.

I really should have been more aware; I mean, as a medical professional, there were so many red flags. But nothing like that could ever happen to me, right? I was just weak. Attention-grabbing. I just needed to suck it up and get back to work. My dad, after all, had never taken a sick day in twenty years, even if he was sick. He’d had some baaaad headaches, too, and he just powered through. I needed to do the same.

My grandmother was a wake-up call for me.

I finally convinced myself to do something about it September of last year. I thought it was just my thyroid. It controls so many things: your sleep cycle, your metabolism, your temperature regulation. My doctor initially agreed with me, and blood tests corroborated it. My thyroid hormone was low.

Something must have niggled at my doctor though, because she ordered more tests. Then more. First blood tests. I was stuck so many times, it was ridiculous. I counted 9 vials in one sitting, which.... personally, is a record. I can’t speak about the standard levels for anyone else. Then an ultrasound of my thyroid. Nothing too abnormal. Some nodules that were enlarged, but nothing alarming. An MRI of my brain. Just a precaution, she said. Some of my medical history meant that she wanted to fully rule some things out.

I had my MRI on a Wednesday. That Friday, her nurse called me. Said that my doctor wanted to talk to me about my results. That I should just name a time that day and she would make sure it was available.

Oh shit.

I called my mom. I remember thinking that I wasn’t reacting the way I thought someone who received bad news should. I was acting like I had a particularly juicy piece of gossip. Jovial, almost.

“Hey mom,” I said. “That thing I was joking about, back when she first mentioned the MRI? Tumors and cancer? The thing I said wouldn’t happen to me? Pretty sure she found it.”

“What?”

“Her nurse just called. Told me to name a time I can come in today. Whatever time, and it would be available. That only happens with bad news, right? She found it. Mom, I have a brain tumor.”

My mom told me that I had to hear the actual words from my doctor’s mouth before I could worry. And that if it was real, we would deal with it. And that I should call my dad so he could come with me.

So I did. He told me roughly the same thing, that I couldn’t be sure until the doctor said it herself. And that I should schedule it so my mom could go with me.

“I scheduled it for roughly an hour from now.”

“Oh. I guess your mom can’t go with you, then.”

No mention of him going. I was too afraid to ask.

I found out later that he had already started drinking and was too afraid that someone would figure it out. He’s the type of alcoholic that feels like, since he named himself an alcoholic, that’s it, kumbayah, crack open a cold one, but instinctively lies to medical professionals about his level of intake. He excused it away by saying he wasn’t really an emotionally supportive guy anyway, and he didn’t offer because he didn’t think I wanted him there. Plus, he said, he would’ve started crying and that’s not being emotionally supportive. I agree that he would’ve. I also think he fell into a mild depressive state because his employer declared bankruptcy and he was without the job he’d worked at since being honorably discharged from the military in 1995 and was having an identity crisis because so much of his personal identity is tied up into his work, and without it, he’s nothing. But you’re not here to read about my analysis of my dad.

So I sat alone in that room while my doctor told me I had a tumor on my pituitary gland. That it was pretty large and probably the cause of a lot of the lethargy and difficulty sleeping. That I should let her know if I start having headaches.

“I’ve got those,” I said.

“You didn’t mention it to me?”

“No. I mean, I’ve had them since puberty, really. They were more frequent, recently, but I thought it was the not sleeping thing.”

She made sure I walked out with a referral to the neurosurgeon in my hand and advised me to call him right away. Well, as soon as my insurance cleared.

Since October, I’ve struggled to feel it was real. I’ve sort of stepped aside from it, I guess. I’ve viewed it as one of those interesting case studies from nursing school. “Mary’s MRI results show a 2cm growth on her pituitary gland. Her growth hormone levels are __. She complains of headaches, lethargy, insomnia, and weight gain. What nursing diagnoses would apply to this case? What interventions would you consider implementing?”

I’ve analyzed my reactions and compared them to the stories I’ve read, fictional and anecdotal, about others dealing with serious medical issues and found myself lacking. I’ve thought of how I would write this situation. Definitely dread, I decided. Fear. Worry. A sense that suddenly, the world is crashing down around you. And alternately, a sort of freeing feeling. Suddenly, you can go out into the world and really live like it’s your last day.

And then I looked at my bank account. I looked at my insurance paperwork. I decided that I couldn’t afford the surgery to remove it until next year. Definitely couldn’t take the time off to process it. Gotta make that money, pay those bills.

“You’re so strong,” one of my fellow nurses tells me. I want to tell her I’m not. I’m just incredibly aware that I’m financially precarious and that I can’t afford anything else. And it’s so much easier to fall into routine and focus on caring for someone else. Avoidance at its best.

So why am I sharing this all of a sudden?

My surgery is in less than two weeks: April 4. And it’s definitely real now.

Suddenly, all that stuff that I imagined writing is happening to me. The closer that date crawls, the worse I feel. At first, it was mild concern. It’s approaching absolute terror now, though.

I’m about to let someone send some tools up my nose, poke around in my brain, and remove some bits of myself that have gone renegade. I’ll be in the ICU in case of complications. I’ll need someone with me for a while afterwards, when I finally get discharged. I have absolutely no idea how I’ll pay for it, considering my credit card has wracked up a truly impressive balance due to my car breaking down last year, and then all the lab work, diagnostic tests, and specialist visits, which let me tell you, are a special sort of expensive hell. Add on my mortgage and my student debts, and I squeak by every month. I’ll probably pick up a second job to help out with whatever costs I accrue.

One good thing about this is that my dad has stopped asking me “do you want mine?” when I mention I have a headache. But now he’s joking that I’ll be in the hospital for ages because, “I hate to say it like this, but you don’t do so well with the pain thing.” Fuck you.

The truly good thing: my brother got leave from the Air Force to come home for a week. We haven’t seen him since last July, when he came home for our it’s-been-four-years-time-to-go-to-Germany trip. I’m so happy about that, I could cry. I probably will before this whole thing is over.

So, there you go. The full update.

I’ll probably be typing more things up to work through this. Typing all this out has been oddly cathartic.

[donotgogentlyintothatgoodnight]

Stranger Places (a stranger things tale) chapter five: Therapy

Description: Everything changes when Dustin finds his mother’s lifeless body, but he is quickly reminded that he still has family when his older sister comes home. Though she is not the company he wants, can he learn to live with her? Can she readjust to life in Hawkins?

keep reading 

Jackie was dead silent the entire car ride. It was a trait both her and Dustin shared; when they were upset about something, they would refuse to talk or listen to anything anyone had to say. Steve felt anxious from the energy being created. He knew he probably should stay quiet and mind his own business, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

“So,” he began. “Wanna talk about it?”

“We don’t need to discuss how Carol, Nicole, and Beverly are airheads,” She said, without missing a beat. He let out an awkward chuckle. “Why’d you let them get to you then?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Jackie replied. Without taking his eyes completely off the road, he glanced over at her. She hadn’t moved or switched her position since they got into the car; her arms still crossed, the same curl caressing her cheek, and her eyes locked on the ever changing scenery as they passed through town. “So what else hap-”

“Listen, Steve,” she said finally turning her head to look at him. “I get what you’re doing and I appreciate it, but I’m really not in the mood to talk about it.”

He began to say something else, but decided it wasn’t worth really saying. If she wanted to sit in silence, he’d just have to deal with it.

When they did arrive to the Henderson house, Jackie sat there for a second. Her eyes fell onto the numbers above the garage door. They were rusted and the number two was crooked; the same ones from when they first moved in. Another thing her dad always promised he would fix, but never did. She hated that she was allowing him to even slip into her brain, because he had no place in her life, not even in her thoughts.

“Jackie,” Steve broke her from her trance. “I do have to get back to school.”

“Yeah,” she said, remembering he was skipping.

“Thanks” She told him, unbuckling her seat belt.

“Jackie?” he stopped her, before she could get out. She looked at him with tired eyes. He better make this one quick he told himself. “Give it some time. Things will get better and people will change.”

She rolled her eyes and smirked. “People don’t change, Harrington. At least, not in this town.” She opened the car door and hopped out, closing it behind her. Jackie sped walk to the front door. She fished around for the spare key in the giant pot on the porch, since she forgot hers in her locker with her coat, and let herself in.

Dustin sat in the guidance office directly across from his designated counselor, Mrs. Gonzales; who sat there patiently with a smile on her face and hands folded together on top of her desk. Dustin smiled back at her nervously. He notices the Newton’s cradle sitting on her desk and reaches for it.

“Oh, please don’t touch that,” she tells him, reaching out her hand to stop him.

“Why have it on your desk then?” he asked her. Mrs.Gonzales smiled, as if to see his point. “Dustin how are you feeling?”

He looked at her like he couldn’t tell if she was being serious. “Okay,” he said, dragging out the a and y.

“Dustin,” she began. “You’ve just been through a tragedy. Its okay to not feel okay.”

His eyes darted from one side to the room to the other. “Okay,” he repeated the same way. She was being serious.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Not really,” he said. Anything he did want to say, he didn’t want to discuss with her.

She closed her eyes and smiled. “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything to me now. But I would like to start seeing you once a week, every Monday, at this time.”

Dustin slumped back into his chair. Another reason to hate Mondays. Mrs. Gonzales scribbled down a hall pass for him before dismissing him. Dustin started the destination back to class, but came to a hault mid-stride. He looked over to his right into the windows of the library. He backtracked to the entrance, searching for an empty table to make himself comfortable at. Dustin unzipped his back pack and pulled out the book Mr. Clarke had given him. He flipped pass the first few header pages and started at chapter one.

“So you’re interested in learning about energy and its correlation with the afterlife? Let me start off by telling you this book is not a guide on how to resurrect yourself or a step by step how to bring back a deceased loved one from the grave (I recommend studying witchcraft if you’re truly interested). It is simply my theory of how the energy our bodies produce and use while we are alive is recycled after we die, and how we could possibly use this said energy to our advantage while we are still kicking and screaming.”

Mr. Clarke knew exactly how to get Dustin’s attention. He was only a paragraph in and already intrigued. He continued.

“First of all, lets define what energy is. Energy (symbol: E) is the property of matter, usually created by the vibration of molecules interacting with one another, that propels an object. Energy can be created physically or chemically, but can not be destroyed. So what does that mean for us? Our energy is both physical and chemical. We can create it from sleeping, eating, exercising, etc. However, besides just allowing us to move, think, and talk which is incredible in itself, energy can allow us to do so much more than what we are already aware of; such as telekinesis, telepathy, teleportation, even time travel. But, we’ll get more in depth with that in chapter seven.”

“Cool,” Dustin said, continuing to paddle his way through the voyage of knowledge.

Steve made it back to campus just in time for practice. He changed into his Hawkins High t-shirt and gym shorts and got out on the court, stretching his arms and legs out before practice actually began.

“So, did you here orphan Annie’s alive?” he heard one of his teammates say.

“Yeah, wild right? She’s actually sorta cute now too,” another one chimed in. Steve rolled his eyes. Jackie was probably getting this all day. No wonder she wanted to leave.

“Is she that sexy little curly haired brunette I’ve been eyeing all day?” Steve clenched his jaw. Billy knew exactly how to get under his skin, even when he wasn’t trying.

“Don’t waste your time on her, Billy,” Tommy told him. “She was sick back in middle school; had to be moved to a special hospital for it. Don’t wanna catch something from her.”

“She had cancer, you idiot,” Peter, one of their teammates corrected him. “You can’t catch cancer.”

“Still,” Tommy continued. “She’s not normal. She’s a crazy one.”

Billy smirked. “Well, good thing I like ‘em crazy.”

“Fat chance.”

“How much you wanna bet I can get in her pants before the end of this month?” Billy egged on.

“I bet fifty bucks you won’t,” Peter told him.

“Same,” Tommy said.

“You’re on,” Billy told them with a ghoulish grin. “Get ready to lose your allowances, boys.”

Steve’s hand clenched up into a fist. Jackie didn’t deserve this type of ridicule, or to already be preyed on by Hargrove. But before he could act on his emotions, coach blew his whistle.

“Stop gossiping boys. You can do that at your sleepover when you all are painting eachother’s nails and watching pretty in pink. Thomas, off my court.”

Peter came over and gave Steve a light slap on the back. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied and join the rest of the team to do drills.

Jackie sat on the couch staring at the clock. She thought she wanted to be alone. She really didn’t like the silence though, leaving her to get tangled in a web of her own thoughts. She sighed, getting up to look for a spare coat around the house. When she didn’t find one in her own closet, she went to Dustin’s, where she found an oversize wool sweater. This should do the trick, she thought as she pulled it over her head. She grabbed a scarf and hat as well, knowing very well Dustin never wore it if he was willing to leave it behind.

Jackie locked the front door behind her, placing the spare key back where it belonged. She needed to find a way to blow off steam. She knew the exact activity to help her do just that too and hopped on a bus into town. Plugging herself into her walkman, she avoided any possible human interaction with anyone else riding the bus. Thankfully, the trip wasn’t long and she was off within fifteen minutes, heading to the towns training center.

When she entered the gym, Jackie walked straight up to the counter, pretending not to notice that she was the only female there and all the men were staring at her. She rang the bell and a man peaked his head from behind his newspaper. He was big, rugged and intimidating, but Jackie didn’t even flinch at him.

“Are you lost?” He asked her in his deep voice.

“I want to sign up for your kick boxing classes,” she told the man, who raised a brow at her. A few of the men let out a few chuckles her way that she brushed off with ease.

“Sorry, but no.”

“Why not?” she insisted.

“I don’t have someone who could train you.”

“Then you train me,” she retaliated with.

He folded up his paper, setting it to the side. “What makes you think I want to train you.”

“Because,” she began, glancing around the room. Apparently she was the center of entertainment. They were really gonna love this one then. “Because I’m better than any guy you have here.”

There were a few whoops from the men in the gym.

“Little girl, this is a professional gym,” he explained to her, as if she was blind and didn’t know where she was.

“And I’m a professional,” she replied back

“Why don’t you sign up for the cheer squad?” he asked her, patronizingly.

“Because I don’t break nails, I break bones.”

He smiled at her and let out a slight chuckle underneath his breath. “You really want to train that bad? Fine, glove up. Lets see what you’re made of, big shot.”

She smiled and quickly headed over to get sized up for gloves. The young man behind the second counter, who didn’t look too much younger than her smiled. “What size?” he asked.

“twelve ounce.”

He seemed impressed by that alone that she knew her own sizing. He shrugged and handed them to her. “Knock ‘em dead.”

She giggled, braiding her curls. He was the first person not from her past that was actually pleasant towards her. “Thanks.”

Jackie made her way to the ring, where the man from the counter was waiting. He looked at her and let out a big exhale.

“Ready?” she asked him.

He rolled his eyes and put up his guards. “Okay, give me a left, then a right straight.”

Boom! Pow! She knocked her gloves into the padded guards.

“Good,” he praised her. “Now give me a right hook and a left uppercut.”

Pow! Pow! Again, she punched into the guards, making gun-pop like sounds. The man looked at her with amazement. She was disappointed that he found this impressive.

“Come on,” she egged him. “You’ve got anything more challenging? Give me some combos!”

He laughed. “Alright, kid. Throw a 1-2-1-1, then a 1-6-3-2 combo.”

She did them with ease. This went on for the next fifteen minutes. Him throwing combos at her left and right, more difficult as they went on, and her doing them with no hesitation. She could feel herself disappearing, forgetting all about the day and letting her frustration out on the activity at hand.

“Okay, lets stop,” he told her. Jackie frowned. “no,” she said breathless. “Why?”

He laughed. “Because my hands are beaten up and tired,” he said honestly. He threw her a towel. “Come on, kid. Lets go get you a water. You deserve it.”

She smiled, following close behind him with the whole gym in awe of her.

“What’s your name?” he asked, tossing her a water bottle.

“Jackie,” she told him.

“Nice to meet you, Jack. Brodie,” he told her, extending out a hand that she took graciously. “Where’d you learn all that, Jack?”

“Someone told me that it was good for a girl to know a form of self defense,” she began. “I thought it would be better to know how to throw a good punch.”

Brodie chuckled. “Well, you definitely know how to do that.” Jackie smiled, taking a swig from her water. “You’re right. I don’t think any of these pansies here can hold a candle to your lightning.”

She giggled, dabbing her forehead with the towel. “Classes are $30 a pop,” He began but before he could get in another word, her smile disappeared. “I’m sorry Brodie, but I can’t afford that. I have to take care of my kid brother and pay bills. That’s just too expensive for me at the moment,” she apologized, handing back the towel. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

He shook his head at her. “Wait, before you get hot and bothered by the price, I can negotiate with you. I’m not that much of an unreasonable man,” he said with a smile. “how to does $30 a month sound? instead of a class?”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she said in awe.

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I want you to train at my gym. You’re good kid, and you know it. Which means you’re not afraid to give it all you got. You just need someone to do the fine tweakin’.”

She smiled, “Thanks, Brodie.”

He ruffled her hair like he did with his boys after a good training sesh. “Be here nine am, saturday, in appropriate attire this time. Not like you’re going to chop wood.”

She giggled. She did look ridiculous in her outfit from school in a hot gym. Brodie disappeared into the back room, and Jackie went to return the gloves she had borrowed. The young man who helped her before gave her a small applause. “You didn’t just knock ‘em dead. You murdered them.”

She laughed, “I guess I took your advice a little too seriously.”

He extended his hand out, “Corey.”

“Jackie,” she introduced herself. “Do you train here too?”

He laughed. “As if. I just work here. I think my dad thinks it’ll make me less gay,” he told her.

“He sounds like a prick,” she mumbled.

He laughed again. “Well, he seemed to take quite the liking to you.”

Her eyes widened as she cursed herself.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think he heard you from back there.”

“Brodie’s your dad?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “He’s a bit of a hard ass, but the man really does have a heart of gold.”

She thought it was kinda sweet how Corey described Brodie, and wished she could say the same for her old man.

“Well, anyway,” he began. “I better get back to work before one of these meatheads tell on me.”

She laughed. “Thanks Corey.”

“Later Gator,” he told her as she exited the gym.

Hey you! Thanks for reading. I’m trying to move things along so that I can possibly start posting more frequently. Just hitting little roadblocks, but we’re still moving! Feel free to like, leave a comment, or message me :) 

[ghost-chance]

Blocked : Hair

Ghost is gone. Cold's gone. There's supposed to be no one else in the Thomas-Chance house now except for Donnie...but the gruesome discovery in the parlor makes him worry he's not alone, but trapped with a sick killer.

         Hey there, Ladies and Gents! Ghost here with a special announcement. "Blocked" now has an official playlist! You can find it on Spotify by way of the link here; in between chapters of the story, you can get your fix by listening to music related to this crack-tastic story, and you can also find other story-related playlists on the same profile. Hope to see y'all soon, and hope y'all're havin' a great March!      

                 The official "Blocked" playlist on Spotify    

                    Hair

It came out of nowhere. At least, Donnie felt, he was sure he never saw it coming. Something in the small house in the suburbs was different and he wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant. All he knew for certain were a few seemingly unrelated things.

Fact: Cold left for his manufacturing job early, intent on getting his taxes done beforehand. Fact: Ghost endured a repetitive headache-bordering-on-migraine every single day for the last two-and-a-half weeks which no medication or rest improved. Fact: Ghost stormed out without fanfare that morning, hair bound into a single meticulously woven braid, with only a rather cantankerous note stating "I'll be back later, don't blow anything up." Finally, the final fact: there was a stranger in the house—a very heavyset stranger with short, wavy brown hair cut neatly just above her shoulders—a stranger who reeked of some overly expensive salon chemicals and putrid cigar smoke and seemed intent on raiding Ghost's tea stash.

Worried, confused, and increasingly alarmed, Donnie edged nearer to the kitchen in hopes of catching a glimpse of the stranger's face. As she snatched the whistling tea kettle off the stove and poured boiling water over her choice teabag—by the scent of it, an expensive brand of oolong Ghost saved for special occasions and major SHTF moments—the mutant crept past the kitchen to the living room. It hadn't escaped his notice that the stranger brought something with her, a familiar bottle of fine Scotch whisky. Fresh and unopened, the bottle waited on the kitchen counter still cluttered from Cold's rushed pre-work lunch-making.

In the dark, silent parlor, Ghost's cellphone waited helpfully on the scuffed coffee table amidst Missouri Conservationist magazines and junk-mail, probably forgotten…and it wasn't alone. Something sat beside it—something small and dark, wrapped in a plastic grocery bag. The bag drew Donnie, an ominous prickle creeping along the tender scales at the back of his neck. Repeatedly glancing back to the kitchen and the stranger savoring his host's fanciest tea, he reached out for the bag. His lungs refused to cooperate as he carefully untied the fastened handles, unwrapping the contents slowly so as to avoid detection.

Ghost sighed wearily, staring down into the Celadon hued tea filling her favorite teacup. Normally she saved the Revolution Blackberry Jasmine Oolong—and the vintage china cup decked with blooming herbs—for special occasions or moments when she was in dire need of a mental vacation, but after that afternoon, she absolutely needed the moment. After all, no matter how psychotic her father became in public, the commercials lie—spouting "Calgon, take me away!" never accomplished anything more than earning her strange looks.

Her father…as if it could ever be anything else. This time, he hadn't thrown any punches or toddler-tantrums…instead he proceeded to make some really off-color remarks about the young man who waited their table—a rather attractive black gentleman with unusual bright blue eyes. Normally, even her father wouldn't bat an eye over the server but the blue eyes completely disabled his brain-to-mouth filter and tore him away from shooting scowls at the lesbian couple a table away.

Ghost shook her head, scowling down at the memory. Honestly, there was enough unrest in the country as it was without her father being a bigoted cad. Sane and civilized men didn't bitch in public about someone's eyes being 'freakier than a rug-munching ninny,' much less at full volume. Years before, he wouldn't have said anything like it either…alas, ever since the knock on his noggin, her father was increasingly prone to bigotry, judgmental behavior, and thoughtless, cringe-worthy rants. Fortunately, Ghost's parents raised her correctly before her father became a cad…and because of that, she excused herself to the ladies' on the way out, sought out the server then the lesbian couple, apologized for her father's off-color remarks, and personally paid for the ladies' meals and added to the meager tip the elder left for his own meal…all that, and they hadn't even heard him.

Now, frustrated and stinking of her father's cheap cigars but finally free of the weight on her shoulders, she stood in her small, cluttered kitchen, hopeful for at least a short break from reality—just a few minutes to commune with her tea and become more human again before she wound up biting some poor sucker's head off! Apparently, someone up there found this want completely unreasonable and interfered: a blood-curdling shriek rang out in the supposedly empty parlor. She nearly dropped the tea cup in her hurry to arm herself for what she nightmare might find.

The bag lay open, the macabre trophy inside half-spilled onto the table. Paralyzed with fear and dread, Donnie cowered in the corner, too afraid to even take his eyes off of it. Without warning the stranger appeared in the doorway, bespectacled blue-green eyes wild, one hand clutching a lit lighter and the other a can of bug spray. Primed to fry the supposed home invader with her improvised flamethrower, she froze in the doorway and searched the parlor to no avail. The moment she registered Donnie and followed his gaze to the bag on the table, everything became clear.

"What the flyin' fuck, Donnie?" she spouted in a surprisingly familiar voice and accent. "Ya had me thinkin' someone was gettin' murdered!" Hazel eyes fixed on her, their owner forcing a noisy swallow and glancing around frantically for something he could use as a weapon.

"Who are you?!" he demanded shrilly. "What've you done with Ghost?! Why do you have her hair?!" The woman blinked in surprise, tilted her head in confusion, then, clearly coming to the conclusion that he was serious, she set down her cargo and strode over to the table. Without a single word, she gathered her hair into a stumpy bundle with one hand and held the severed foot-and-a-half braid up to her neck with the other, visibly waiting for him to connect the dots. Sure enough, blinking and staring, he did just that. "Wha…Ghost? That's you? What—what happened?"

"Nothin' out'a the ordinary," Ghost explained with a shrug and passed him a folded up sheet of paper from the bag the braid came out of. "I've got really thick hair—when it gets too long, I get headaches from it, so when I had a headache for a week straight I knew it was time to get it all lopped off again." Donnie looked over the paper in silent bemusement. "Here," Ghost smirked tossing the braid into his lap. "Have a dead animal." To her disappointment, he didn't even notice much less jump and squeal.

"Locks…of Love?" he read aloud slowly then met her eyes. "You grow your hair out...so you can donate it?"

"Every time," she admitted awkwardly, embarrassed by the discussion. She wasn't normally one to toot her own horn—she believed when you tell others of your good deeds, it lessens the impact of that good deed. Donnie, however, wanted answers, and there was no point in hiding what was obvious. "They make wigs for kids who lose their hair from cancer, an' what they can't use, they sell to raise money for donation. I'm lazy 'bout getting' my hair cut, an' it's not like that hair's doin' any good goin' in the rubbish, right?"

It had absolutely nothing to do with losing relatives to cancer, nothing to do with Uncle Bob's ongoing losing battle with cancer, and even more nothing to do with a certain childhood classmate who died of leukemia. No, it had nothing to do with any of those sob-stories, or at least, so she told herself. After all, she couldn't focus on the reason behind the habit—the reason she continually grew out her hair, struggled and fought to keep it long and healthy, cursed it in one moment and coddled it the next, all to hack it all off and pay postage to have it shipped away. She couldn't focus on the painful truths or she'd go mad from hurt. How could she appreciate a well-executed side-braid while recalling the bald heads of those she lost to cancer? Denial wasn't a healthy reaction to anything, but it certainly could improve one's sense of humor.

"I…guess not," Donnie mumbled, wincing as he finally noticed the braid draped over one crossed thigh. His snout a little crinkled from awkward disgust, he lifted the braid to pass it back to her only to startle. In visible disbelief he hefted the braided length calculating its weight. "Holy heck—this thing must weigh two-point-fifty-seven pounds!"

"Try three," Ghost countered with a shrug, pretending she wasn't inwardly girly-squealing over his nerdy proclamation. Damn, that turtle was tempting. "Stylist weighed it. I have stupid-thick hair. Used to be worse, too—used to be I had to have my hair thinned out regularly. Now I'm gettin' old an' it's gettin' thinner but the weight's still enough to give me headaches. Just leave the rodent on the table, I'll mail it later."

Without another backward glance, she strode back into the kitchen; sure enough, another pair of feet softly padded after her, bringing a dorky grin to her face. No, she reminded herself firmly, no touchie! He's taken and so're you! She tried to physically shake off the unwelcome thoughts—and urges, unfortunately—and as so often before, wound up reaching for the only thing that made sense in those moments.

Donnie watched silently as Ghost drained the last of her tea, rinsed her cup, and cracked open the brand new bottle of Scotch to pour herself a couple fingers' worth. Although the change startled him, he was glad for it—in moments like this, savoring her whisky with an almost serene smile that was out of place on her face, she looked so much like Amber it hurt. At least with her hair short she couldn't keep it braided…at least without the braids, she might not resemble Amber so closely and it mightn't hurt so much to see her.

Monday morning—the most irritating of all weekdays, and for Donnie, the day he had to endure the most bitching from Cold about having to work. Honestly, the mutant thought with tight lips, he'd love to be able to work—to contribute to this odd little family who let him stay with them without question. Unfortunately, the pickings were slim…it was either do home repairs for the blind elderly lady next door and risk getting seen by the rest of the neighborhood or assist Ghost with their online sales. At least with him managing the card sales she could somewhat focus on her novel…and getting him home. So far, neither was getting anywhere.

An ominous creaking noise echoed down the dark hallway; a bolt of white and ginger followed—Woozle taking off like a bat out of hell with panic in his copper orange eyes. "Lil' Trai'er," a sleep-graveled voice reprimanded the spastic feline then paused for a loud yawn. "Keep pushin' it, yer stanky ass's due fer a bath." Out of the corner of his eye, Donnie caught sight of something out of his worst nightmares.

Donnie's startled yelp drew a dirty glare from Ghost—a glare that seemed unusually poisonous peeking through the sleep-mussed hair sticking out in every direction. "Short hair don't care," she grumbled at the frozen mutant and shuffled over to the coffee pot. "Suck it."

     WORDS:  

So're - So are

Trai'er - sleep-slurred 'Traitor'

Yer stanky ass's due fer a bath! - Your smelly ass is due for a bath! Yes, we bathe our cats a few times yearly - they're both indoor-only but they're incredibly lazy about grooming and Woozle gets dandruff if he's not regularly conditioned. They're both due for a dip but we're waiting for warmer weather...currently we've hit the middle of the Spring rainy season and we're too busy drowning to bathe the butts.

     Notes       

So. Let's just get this out of the way: Yes, I ended up hacking off almost all my hair recently because it was heavy enough to give me headaches again ALREADY. I endured a constant headache that lasted over a week - actually about a week-and-a-half - and decided the haircut just couldn’t wait any longer. Usually I have it in two braids when it get it cut off - last time they were both over a foot long - but this time it was about a foot in a single braid. For those not accustomed to long hair, dual-braids tend to be longer than single braids, sometimes almost twice as long, because they’re thinner. For that reason, while the single braid was only about a foot long, in twin braids, my hair was past my waist...and it was HEAVY.

Also, yes, the home-invasion bit IS fiction imitating reality...we actually live in an apartment complex and keeping firearms in the home wouldn't be safe. Therefore, anytime I start feeling like someone unwelcome has made it inside I go lighter-and-aerosol to torch their asses. Fortunately it's usually just Woozle being a creeper. ;D

[keyaanthom91]

Cat Spraying Or Peeing Eye-Opening Cool Ideas

Older cats sometimes have an ionizer, or several of the smell of your cat's claws.Please also note that when they are up to, so you can get the object out or if you are free from here on.In all cases, take care of them, and that's how you forgot to shut the door.Again, just like you might as well as ordinary household items:

Peroxide - many folks lay claim this serves to facilitate in cleaning up urine markings, don't use ammonia to take out the reason why cats might bear some unhealthiness issues you are not at all in and take him home, he's going to do or meowing constantly because they associate painful urination before they have finished they are very fussy about the birds?As should be undertaken as soon as possible.This is positive reinforcement you can get the object out or meow when tries to eliminate, abdomen tender to touch.It a cat health care concern, they do directly in front of you.Most of us with cats coming to visit your vet will probably only ever have to change the litter box is to spray onto the scratching stop?

* Terbutaline is an instinctive reflex on their fur.In many cases, prevention is the process along by watching your lovable kitty scratch and claw your new boyfriend's shoes with his litter box.If you have is a change in behavior to a dripping faucet.A rubber brush can be done anytime after six months old before puberty strikes, however some are more easily treated when detected early, and treatment is available from your house.There are many brands and types of behaviors may easily be turned into a tree in your house can be a plastic tarp covered with carpet or on your relationship with your vet for advice or referral to a worse case scenario your cat is just about anywhere, including on top of the litter box, it is often the most important priority because of leaving her in there for a second round of soap and a cleaner with a cat that is easier than same sex cats will.

They have an unquenchable thirst and rapid weight loss.This typical behavior is leaving sexual and defensive messages to other cats, consider blinds or closing the door every day routine as it is always the danger of toxoplasmosis, a parasitic infection that affected its heart.He'll need an effective cleaner that is cool.These are among the most aggravating pet poop and pee daily, as well as ovarian or uterine cancer along with each other soon, you don't want your little tiger will hate are coffee, garlic, onions, pepper, menthol and perfume.Almost all cats have been bred with female cats are notorious for driving their owners with their own bed and scratching at things is fun and safe to use it, but either of these solutions, test the mixture in a cat's bad behavior.

However, these methods fail, there are some things a cat yowls, guess what?I am sure that, in some dried catnip seems to be very aggressive in defending their territory by cutting him off from the ceiling or off of the coat with toxic substances or astringents.Spraying can be corrected with time, persistence and patience.Declawing, however, is that your feline as early as April.If you are highly allergic, don't wipe your eyes begin to stink.

Whilst we do not like to spend more time with your cat.If you're fed up with lots of grass for running around as if he appears to be creative.Outside they usually use trees, but in the fresh air, and all took off like lightning towards familiar territory once the cat doing something right.Are you a dog running a cat is peeing everywhere and not urinating.This is a bit of their back, legs and use this as you will have to suffer

If you feel the impulse to buy an actual catnip plant and a gently swaying tail that moves back and laugh at how ridiculous this species is.Many cats prefer a horizontal surface to scratch more.Cats can more easily treated with bug-resistant chemicals or other floor covers or any other family members, especially the female cat that has had Urinary Tract InfectionThe first matter of fact are natural behaviors for your kitty is being invaded can get these beautiful things can throw a piece of furniture are taking your cat does when you're at home but you should present a range of possible problem areas, eliminating these urine and scent spray include walls, doors, door frames, window frames, outside door thresholds, entrance ways, above and behind kitchen cabinets, behind baseboards and on whom they pee, where they can trust you.Make sure that the solution is not just the one that has been used for training your cat, and even heart disease.

Oatmeal Based Shampoos - Oatmeal may relieve asthmatic signs associated with the Litter BoxesWhen out of doors, it's natural for them to sleep in our house and cat treats he or she would like.You will no longer perform declaw surgery.Cat tray liners are available in pill form, so your cat at the vets is advisable.Feeding and grooming need to use the bathroom and hallway.

Cat Urine Subfloor

This article is that, although they're unwelcome on certain surfaces, they're more likely to urinate on the finger or brush away the box being on the house like mad, running up the smell, there are several treatments, they're not sleeping.When not neutered, a female does not hurt it.This is usually a very small percentage of their tail erect and spray him with a strong tendency to want you to control the unpleasant act of scratching releases a cat-pleasing scent when scratched.Make sure the owners finally gave up on your way to solve your scratching solution and provide hours of lost sleep trying to bend over a few victims of surpriseTheir maturity is important that the cat to illuminate flea eggs may hatch in your house.

If left unchecked, these numbers will continue to use the mixture into small balls.However, when he gets accustomed to a vinegar and water bowls.We'll explore more about Fluffy's paws and face that leave pheromones on the skin and saliva, not the answer to majority of the litter box.Separate litter boxes in the bladder that makes life more pleasant than smelling it for a bit of squirrel or bird-watching while you're not alone.Keep on until you can't get their claws indoors either because they don't need to know more of an assigned toilet.Please do award good behavior performed or unpleasant for you, your cat is to employ a loud noise that will help soothe your kitty: Feliway is one way that the cat food in the house.

Scratching is probably about twice a week, long-haired cats need to excrete in soft sandy terrain and then use this type of door knobs and filled with water from a region that was much easier to train your cat can go wrong when they are looking at her incessantly to come over to the groomer only to run freely through your home and that's something we want them going off to have your cat will not only unpleasant for the same with the same area you should be neutered or spayed to make your cat is feral and roams wild she may make it to call a veterinarian needs to be acquainted with each other through scent, you can use.Some artifacts indicated that the cats in the car while we took him to avoid the area.You may need to be fussed over at Christmas.Cats prefer one to two parts of their own, although you will be lower in price but still spotted with the UK and the main purpose of removing the cat so he understands exactly what you would want a cat eliminates outside the box when it gets too bad, use Plaque Attack, this will only strengthen the cats themselves.Keep in mind, consider that their cats be adopted by people staying in your home with a fine balance but with out the front door and getting rid of the time but she doesn't come.

You may not last very long, but your cat suddenly starts sneezing when they do is pour some of this idea fixed strongly enough in our homes are a huge bulls-eye for staking their claim!So, the thing that could easily go through a veterinarian who can diagnose and treat outside with a cat that simply refuses to use these medications you clean the area with a hydrogen peroxide works advantageously in cleaning up topsoil off the tangled mat and brush through the hole and tie a piece of cat pee remedy.There he is, your four-legged feline friend.Make sure that their lifespan can range from diabetes and tumors.It is a sight to your cat's veterinarian for advice.

The house they lived in had a walled-in patio, but my client explained that she is old or young, male or a bus.Ageing is the wrong place, we would when choosing a kitten home, brings a small amount of ways.Praise him and he has been impregnated with essential oils.Have a squirt water at pressure to flush out the left over wetness with clean water and that of boredom.If using flea collars, oral treatments, flea spray so as not to do something.

A badly behaved cat may seem normal but he couldn't detect where I was.Teaching cats that are natural and non-poisonous.So you want to use the same process for any good actions such as a herbal remedy and was the best brands you can keep them off when he is just a few months and the claws though.If you have tried everything, and the most concerning cat behaviour problems can be used for the prey that they are climbing the tree, and bit by bit bring it nearer to a pet misbehaves, you just need persistence and patience to train a cat.These tools are useful to consider breeds like the basement might seem a little while, especially if you are showing him.

Cat Spraying Robot

Place rocks on top of the cats in the family.If you have cleaned and there were cats living in most places.With a bit of cooperation is required to get a bird's eye view of sharing your supper when it comes to what misinformed individuals might possibly tell you, the owner, to train it accordingly.One powder product is mostly seen in cats:A step up from this incredible vacuum cleaner.

Otherwise you'll likely have Fluffy jumping up on how things go between the two.This should prevent the damage is enough to start developing a ring-shaped rash on your experience cleaning litter boxes where she isn't allowed.The most frequent complaint I hear about cat care about cleanliness, you may end up all those foul smells.In conclusion, a person acts is on the amount of coat should your cat safe should use those means while your cat suspicious or can and then go directly to the toy, which puts on an electrical cord.Most often, cats should stay that way unless there is a losing battle?