#one time they literally CALLED THE COPS on a kid who slept past 8 because it’s ‘trespassing’ to be in the shelter past 8 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

icariahq · 3 years

Text

Thanks for applying Lauren! We look forward to seeing Noreen around the island. Make sure to send your blog in within the next 24 hours or reach out to us if you need an extension. Aimee Carrero is now taken.

BASE APP

( AIMEE CARRERO, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ) ⌇ have you seen NOREEN GOMEZ around icaria? they are the 26 year old child of ZEUS. they remind me of the sound of the human version of coffee, lightning on a misty night, multilingual insults, and late night talks around the neighborhood. They’ve been on the island for 8 YEARS.

OOC INFO:

NAME / PRONOUNS | AGE | TIMEZONE

It me. Lucifer / She/Her | 30 | EST

ROLEPLAYING EXPERIENCE

To damn long

IC INFO:

Please know that all of this is to help you get to know your own character better – and to allow for easier plotting with other members!

WHO ARE YOU BRINGING TO THE ISLE?

FACECLAIM: Aimee Carrero NAME: Noreen Gomez AGE: 26 BIRTHDAY: January 31, 1994 OCCUPATION: N/A for the moment HOMETOWN: Detroit, MI PETS: N/A… for now POWERS:

She can see and sense the electricity around her, from there she pull the electricity and turn it into small blasts of electricity she can throw at people.

BIOGRAPHY: TWs for: Prostitution, death, drugs, addiction, child neglect

Marita Gomez was not a woman you could call kind, but damn was she beautiful. She had floated through life using her looks to get what she wanted, and while that got her money and attention it didn’t always serve to put her in a good place or have her care about anyone beyond herself. By the time she was 18, she was one of the favorites who worked the street and pulled in money for her pimp. Sometimes she’d sleep with the clients, sometimes she’d lead them to those who could get them other black market items, she never really cared so long as she got her next hit and got her money in hand. But she was always the go-to if the cops showed up, petite little Marita could switch between looking as innocent as a lamb and as mouth-watering delicious as a stake to a starving man.

It was that beauty that caught the King of the Gods’ attention. He swooped down from the heavens and took on the form of a human. Marita didn’t care, didn’t want to even know his name, he was just another client. Another fuck to get the drugs she wanted and the money she desired for the clothes she needed. The two had one night of passionate lovemaking before Zeus fucked off back to Mount Olympus and left a now, unknowingly pregnant, Marita. It only took two months before she was showing, three before her clientele started to change to those with a fetish for pregnancy; and by the time she had had her baby? She had grown a following of – eclectic men.

Noreen Gomez was born addicted to coke and in a situation, no kid should be in. Until she was 5 Noreen barely had any contact with those outside of the “family” her mother had cultivated. People flitted in and out of their house, watching her grow while her mom was at work. Sometimes it was the teens from down the street who watched the baby for a small hit when Martia returned home, sometimes it was for a bit – handsier of an exchange. Other times it would be the other sex workers who would occasionally – coo and aww over the baby and other times – forget she existed until she cried for milk or a change. At 5 – well everyone assumed the child was old enough to take care of herself, they stopped caring as much. She was left home alone to make herself food, bathe and change herself and to try and keep the house – somewhat clean. That was something her mom started to expect of her when Noreen was able to walk and remember things.

As a young kid, she worried constantly about where her next meal would come from if they had water, power, all the things kids should never think about. So when the power was shut off one day and she was home alone – it was dark out and she was terrified. Little six-year-old Noreen let out a cry that – well, she wouldn’t know for years why it worked, but the power was suddenly back on, the lights and tv flicked back to life. She never questioned it, and neither did her mother when the electricity bill stopped coming but the power… somehow stayed on.

She started school not long after and while the teachers raised eyebrows and tossed worried looks her way – no one called CPS, no one ever came to check on the obviously neglected Noreen. She learned very early on that adults were trash, and the only people who really cared were the other kids. That was the one time she got any sort of good in her life – when she slept over at a friend’s house and could relax, and just … be a kid.

By 10 Noreen understood how the streets operated, she understood how to get and take without getting in trouble, without getting adults to look at you twice. She understood how to run a con, how to get a bit of extra cash. Her protection? Well, it seemed like she was always a bit electrified. A bit energetic and too quick. You touched her when she wasn’t expecting it? You’d get a nice little shock. No one really questioned it – static electricity but stronger. So she generally felt safe. Most of the time.

She had just scammed a man out of twice the amount of money the product she had was worth when she ran face-first into Jarvis. He had been shocked, both literally and physically, by a 10-year-old who seemed to have a giant wad of cash she was trying to stuff into her non-existent bra. There was a quick exchange of words and meeting of his “kids” before she understood that she could make more and not have to worry so much if she worked for him. It’s not like her mother would care – it’s not like her mother took care of her. So she agreed and was welcomed into the fold.

By 12 more children had joined Jarvis’ little crusade and Noreen had become known as Spark or Spitfire – mostly because of the static shocks or the words that came out of her mouth. A mixture of Spanish and English and 90% of it cursing your existence. But despite that she became a bit of a mother hen to the other kids, looking out for them and making sure they had food or a place to sleep. It��s not like her own mother cared; So Noreen took in the kids, and they slept on the pull-out couch. They were always out by 9 am (when her mother woke up and usually would start bitching), but came back each night to sleep or just have someone to talk to.

A school friend, one not involved in the life she lived on the streets, had invited her over for a slumber party… turns out it was a surprise birthday party. But the sudden kids jumping out and yelling surprise scared Noreen enough that every light in the house arced and blew out. Before they could finish the word the city block had lost power and it was spreading. Noreen knew it was her; she could feel the sparks arcing from her fingertips to the light switch mere inches from her hand, she could see the electricity in the air. No one else seemed to notice – most just screamed because the power went out but it quickly turned into laughter and lightning candles as they got cake and settled down. But Noreen… Noreen couldn’t stop looking around, it wasn’t just that some friends had decided to do something so nice for her, but the fact that she could register where all the electricity in the room was by sight and sound. She could hear it humming in the walls, she could see it connecting switches and lights.

This fascination carried over into school and when she was in science class doing experiments with her lab partner it all went just a bit sideways as she tried to manipulate the electricity in her experiment… and she somehow got electrocuted, except it was bad enough she ended up at the hospital. There she was alone, there the doctors looked her over, ran a battery of tests, and realized – this poor teen was on drugs, electrocuted and no one was coming to get her. They confined her to the hospital. They called every number they could and it wasn’t until the fifth call that a woman picked up the phone. She claimed to be Noreen’s mother, that Noreen had been living with her aunt for the past year while she was away on assignment in Greece. She had “no idea” about any of this and hadn’t heard from either in a month. She had “been trying to reach them and would be on the first flight out.”

Noreen told them she was lying, that her mother was not some weird jet setter that lived in another country but a bitch of a lady who lived in the slums. Still; they kept her they started to help her detox and get clean of all the drugs in her system. Two days in she was experiencing severe withdrawals and angry as hell. That was the day her “mother” showed up. She was a beautiful woman, sure, and they looked sort of alike, but not really. But somehow… she had all the paperwork, she knew too much to not be her mom. Noreen felt like her head was in a fog, nothing made sense anymore. She was required to stay another three days before her “mom” could take her.

But the minute she could the two were on a plane back to Greece. The plane ride was agony and they didn’t really talk. Noreen wasn’t sure what was happening or why or who this woman was but she – also couldn’t get the questions out. So when they finally landed in Greece and she was brought to a temple she was needless to say… very confused. The next five weeks were spent in Hera’s temple with the priestesses. They cared for her and helped her get clean, they taught her meditation and how to calm herself, they took her to the doctor and got her any help they could… and within three months of that faithful day back in Detroit, she was clean. She had cravings, sure, but she now knew ways to deal with it.

Noreen found out that the woman who had got her was in fact not her mother, but apparently her father’s wife. Hera. This was her temple. She was a Greek goddess and Noreen was the daughter of Zeus – making her a demi-god. She chalked up this weird story to withdrawal and tried to ignore it. But she realized very quickly there was no ignoring this. It made sense with the shocks her whole life, the fact she could see electricity running through the walls, see it everywhere. Hera told her she was welcome to stay so long as she helped around the temple.

So she did. She helped clean, she learned the ways and she started back up schooling. It didn’t take long for her to make friends. Scout and Lachlan. They became the three musketeers telling one another almost everything… though even to this day she’s still not told everyone her full past. It just hurts too much to think about. But those two – they know more than anyone else. It was this level of trust that started to make Noreen open to the idea of feelings. There was Scout… her best friend who was just so damn pretty. She would watch her when the other wasn’t paying attention and just sigh. Hoping that one day – they could be more.

But as time passed and the other never really showed much interest Noreen resigned herself to looking outside of their friend group for comfort and love. – well until the day that Scout decided she needed to have a conversation with her and – just kissed her. Needless to say, Noreen was on cloud nine and the two began dating. For years the two were happily in love, and Noreen was certain that they would one day get married.

Hell, she had a ring picked out and everything! She was ready to go. But she knew better than to propose before Scout finished law school. She would not distract her girlfriend from that endeavor with a wedding. But Scout got more and more absorbed and slowly started fading from the relationship. She stopped wanting to go out, stopped really – even paying attention to Noreen. And after years and years of being ignored by her mother to have Scout, the one person she loved more than anything she blew up. The two argued and shouted and – Noreen stormed out. She just needed some air. Needed a moment to refocus and figure it out… and she would get it.

Five years of thinking and air. For that night was the first kidnapping. The night that Nyx herself snatched her off the street and put her in the meadows. She was terrified, confused, and utterly unsure of what the fuck was happening. Nyx appeared with her son Weston, and they explained that they had a plan to get Zeus’s attention, that they were sorry they had to take her and she would be back once they got to talk to the man. Noreen tried to tell them that Zeus didn’t care about her, that she had only met him a couple of times, and that he was a trash god. They agreed on that part but they thought – he’d realize that one of his own was taken, that Hera was throwing a hissy fit at Noreen’s vanishment and would do something. But they underestimate the god’s willingness to care about anything other than the next lay he was going to get.

So she’s been in purgatory for five years. Honestly? She hasn’t really noticed the passage of time. It’s like she’s told people, “Time has no meaning here, 1 minute here could be an hour back on earth, 1 day a year. Or it could be 1 minute is 5 years. There are days where I felt like I’ve been here for centuries and days where it felt like five seconds. In the end, I’m here and I like it.” Instead, Noreen dedicated herself to learning how to do all manner of things, she can happily say she’s a much more well-rounded person than she had been in her teens or the last time she saw and felt the earth beneath her feet.

Being back on earth, away from the meadows is going to be a huge transition for her. But she’s ready to see what the fuck life has in store – and to kick her father’s ass.

ANYTHING ELSE:

CHAOS.

#icaria: accepted #submission

2 notes · View notes

occasionalfics · 4 years

Text

hi so i haven’t made any real posts in a while bc i haven’t really been writing that much but i wanted to just post SOMETHING for y’all to interact with

anyway, if you don’t know, i have a youtube channel and i’ve been watching (almost) every movie that chris evans is in because i love him and reviewing them for my channel and i thought i’d give a rundown of the movies i’ve seen so far (including ones i haven’t rewatched for the channel yet because i’m not gonna link to the videos - if you really want to watch, message me) so maybe you could decide which ones are worth your time and/or money 😂

for this, i’ll give a brief description, my general thoughts, and a score from 1-10 (1 being unwatchable and 10 being PEAK cinema)

i’m keeping things very light on spoilers, meaning there might be one or two overall but not for every movie.

so here we go:

The Newcomers (2000) - some indie movie with no theatrical release about a family that moves from boston to vermont because of money troubles. chris is in it for like 5 minutes and he’s honestly the second best part (second to a dog only). 3/10, mostly boring but not offensive.

Not Another Teen Movie (2001) - i feel like everyone has seen this. it’s a spoof of 80′s and 90′s teen movies (namely she’s all that and cruel intentions). chris plays the main love interest and he’s definitely funny enough to pull off the part but it’s not really my thing. 4/10.

The Perfect Score (2004) - this is the first time chris and sc*rj* worked together. 6 high school kids fail the SATs so instead of retaking them, they sneak into a government building and steal the answers. it’s an mtv movie and it’s...fine? not great, not special, but...very early aughts mtv for sure. 4/10

Cellular (2004) - an action flick where chris plays a regular dude who gets a call from a woman who’s been kidnapped, and then has to keep communications up with her in order to save her and take down some corrupt cops. surprisingly funny, i had a great time watching, would recommend! 7/10

Fierce People (2005) - i think this was another indie movie without a theatrical release. based on a book that, from the reviews of both, is identical, i think because the author of the book was also the screenplay writer. and that’s probably why this movie sucked. bby anton yelchin (rip) gets caught scoring drugs for his mom, and because she has connections to this super rich dude, they end up going to live in new jersey with his weirdass family instead of bby anton going to jail. chris’s character is not who you think he is. content warnings for drugs, rape, and murder. overall boring, not what it thinks it is, 4/10

Fantastic Four (2005) - okay everyone’s seen these. i actually hate both of these FF movies, but chris as johnny storm is the only shinning light in either. reed is the WORST and sue is treated like eye candy. 4/10 for johnny storm alone.

London (2005) - literally the worst movie i have ever seen. i hate london. also an indie movie, very misogynistic, very pretentious and self-important. lonely emo boy does drugs with random people in a bathroom at a party he was not invited to INTENTIONALLY, in the hopes that he will win over his ex girlfriend, who he repeatedly emotionally abused while they were together, even though the party is literally in honor of her moving across the country. and she didn’t want him there. please never, ever bother watching london and talking about it online - fuckbois will attempt to tell you that you know nothing repeatedly. 1/10, worst film ever made.

TMNT (2007) - does this need an introduction? chris plays casey, but the movie’s really about the turtles. honestly the writing kind of relies on you knowing a lot about the turtle lore and overall it’s a boring but ultimately harmless film. it’s just really not worth your time. 2/10

Sunshine (2007) - ONE OF THE BEST MOVIES I HAVE EVER SEEN, I HAVE NOT STOPPED THINKING ABOUT SUNSHINE IN OVER A YEAR. 8 astronauts are on a mission to ignite a nuclear bomb into the dying heart of our sun. but it’s a space film so shit goes wrong and, one by one, they start dying. very tense, very sad. the biggest complaint all around is that the first 2/3s of the movie are one genre and the last 3rd is a completely different movie, and yet it’s STILL amazing. please watch (if you can handle a space thriller)! 8/10

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer (2007) - a very bad follow up to a very bad origin movie. not even andre braugher could save this one. reed is really mean to johnny for no reason and i hate his guts. 3/10

The Nanny Diaries (2007) - second time appearing alongside sc*rj*. she’s the main character. an anthropology student takes on a nannying job for an upperclass family in new york, but the job ends up being more than she bargained for. chris plays harvard hottie, her upstairs neighbor who is THE BEST BOY. i loved this movie. 8/10

Battle for Terra (2007) - a very weird but very good animated movie about humans attempting to colonize an alien planet because we were stupid enough to destroy earth, venus, and mars. lots of big names on the cast list for a movie that not many people saw, but it goes ham in the “fuck colonizers” theme. overall, a surprising joy. 6.5/10

Street Kings (2008) - well this was directed by david ayer so my friend and i went into this with very low expectations and it didn’t even meet that bar. keanu reeves plays a sad and angry corrupt cop who almost kind of gets framed for killing another cop, and then spends a good chunk of the runtime just hunting down other corrupt cops without doing anything about his own corruption. it’s copaganda, but very bad copaganda. also chris dies. fuck this movie, don’t waste your time. this is another one where the fanboys will come for you if you say a bad thing about it on the internet, 2/10

The Loss of a Teardrop Diamond (2008) - another indie that apparently caught the eye of kevin fiege? i don’t really know why because chris’s character is very bland and the movie overall is nothing special. tennessee williams wrote the screenplay before he died in the 80′s and then this was made and nothing about it was changed. it’s basically straight people in the 20′s in the south being weird and rude. a rich girl pays a hot poor boy to escort her to parties after a huge scandal was caused by her father. she loves the poor boy but he doesn’t return the feelings and everyone’s sad, dying, or mean. skip it, honestly. 4/10

Push (2009) - honestly, an underrated movie that so often gets shit on because of x-men. push is so good! a telekinetic man meets a young girl who can see the future, who tells him that if he helps her find her mom, they’ll also come into $6 million. they run into his ex and the government department trying to control people with powers, and shit ensues. chris’s chemistry with dakota fanning as big brother/little sister is adorable and i need more people to talk about it. 8/10, very worth your time.

The Losers (2010) - apparently went up against some other star-studded action flick with a similar plot at the time of release and suffered for it, but other than that, this is a fun romp with lots of character. a team of militiamen are framed for an international scandal and forced to go underground until a mysterious woman helps them exact revenge on the billionaire who framed them so they can go back to their families. chris plays one of the secondary characters and he’s PERFECT. best character in the whole movie! you’ve probably seen the “don’t stop believing”/”lethal killing machine” scene around tumblr before - that’s just how his character is the whole movie and it’s great. definitely recommend! 7/10

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World (2010) - we’ve all seen it. lucas lee is the best. there are lots of problems in the word choice and some of the moral quandaries but overall, an enjoyable ode to videogames and comic books. 6.5/10

Puncture (2011) - once again, an indie film with very little theatrical release. WHOOOH though. this movie. SO GOOD! two personal injury lawyers take on a case when a nurse is accidentally pricked on the job and contracts AIDS. they take on a huge pharmaceutical supply company in the hopes of manufacturing and creating a legal standard for using safety needles to protect frontline medical workers, all while chris’s character is dealing with being an addict. based on a true story, honestly one of chris’s best performances (and that’s across the board). you can rent it cheap from youtube and it’s totally worth it. 7.5/10

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) - i mean. it’s cap. honestly this movie feels a little long even though it’s not. overall it’s a good, enjoyable movie and watching it all the way through reminded me of why bucky was so important. 7/10

What's Your Number? (2011) - okay honestly i love this movie? a woman is slutshamed by her sister’s friends and then embarks on a journey through her past relationships to find her soulmate, only to realize that it doesn’t matter how many men she’s slept with because the right one really won’t give a damn and neither should she. everyone’s seen naked collin around tumblr. he’s a good boy. mostly. 7/10

The Avengers (2012) - so i can appreciate that this was like THE event movie of the summer of 2012 but it is LONG and there’s still so much spy shit i don’t understand. my friends and i also think that j*ss wh*d*n oversimplifies most of the characters, and ultimately the writing isn’t super strong. the performances are, for sure, but it’s still not as great of a movie as i thought it was when i was a senior in high school. 7/10

The Iceman (2012) - also an indie? based on a true story. a man (played by michael shannon) is recruited by the mob to be a hitman, and then something happens where they don’t want to pay him or something, so he starts doing a shady job with another hitman (played by chris) to support his family. overall it’s a boring film but michael and chris were both really good! watch it if you like dark mob movies, michael shannon, or winona ryder. 3/10

Snowpiercer (2013) - this movie, no pun intended, is a RIDE. poor people at the back of a train containing the last living human beings revolt against the bourgeoise. everyone’s dirty and tired and hungry. weird shit happens, but ultimately, this was SO worth the watch (and the money i spent on the blu-ray)! 7/10

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) - still my favorite cap movie. excellent characterization, maybe the only time i cared about natasha. the plot should be an avengers movie given that shield is a team concern, but i will stand by the winter soldier aspect of this movie til i die. 8/10

Before We Go (2014) - an indie movie that chris directed (his directorial debut)! it’s...cute, i guess. it’s not harmful in any way, but also not special in any way. flustered woman misses her train, cute musician in the station offers to help her navigate NYC. they talk about feelings and their pasts and what they’re running from and toward. it’s fine. 6/10

Playing It Cool (2014) - indie? i don’t know?? screenplay writer (chris) wants to write action films but keeps getting hired to write romcoms, then he finds himself IN a romcom. it’s okay. some people think it’s terribly misogynistic which i didn’t find it to be, but it’s also just...kinda bland. 4/10

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) - my least favorite avengers movie. i genuinely hate how ultron was handled and this movie has never once made me sympathize with the maximoffs. except for when steve defends their choice to allow experimentation to be done so they could defend their country. uh the party at the beginning is the best part, full stop. 3/10

Captain America: Civil War (2016) - this isn’t a cap film. he has no character growth. this is an avengers film at best. i also take issue with how much of this movie is really just two movies forced into one. bucky gets the short end of the deal in the overall mcu and this is really where that starts. 5/10

Gifted (2017) - PLEASE. WATCH. GIFTED. a former philosophy professor gives up his career to raise his niece, but when his mother attempts to gain custody, he has to fight for the person he loves most in the world. one of the most heartfelt, genuine movies ever. chris and mckenna grace have SUCH good chemistry. bonus octavia spencer (also in snowpiercer). 10/10

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) - probably my favorite avengers movie. great stakes. amazing acting. THE BEARD!!! 8/10

Knives Out (2019) - WHOOO BITCH. TOP TIER. ransom drysdale could do whatever he wants to me and normally, i don’t “date” villains. 9/10

Endgame (2019) - the lesser infinity war. i’m not a fan of time jumps and also hate fatphobia. thor was mistreated and i can’t forgive that.

#chris evans #chris evans ranking #i don't talk about my fanfic on my youtube channel which is why i don't post links to it openly here

4 notes · View notes

santoteez · 5 years

Text

A Manhattan Tale - Seonghwa (8)

Parts: 8 of ?

Masterlist HERE

Genre: Chef!Seonghwa, FormerDrugdealer!Seonghwa, FormerKingpin!Hongjoong, Bad boy/ Good Girl kinda??

Warnings: Love interest is a Black Female, mentions of death, Angst, Mentions of drug dealing, drive-by, mentions of sexual intercourse

Requested: yes

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU. All family members are FICTIONAL.

Seonghwa walked into his apartment, shrugging his coat off. It was snowing outside, so he left his Timbs at the door, walking into the kitchen.

“I bought groceries. I got that milk you like, it was on sale.” He said to the woman that stood at the stove. Zelie had not uttered a word to him since last night. Seonghwa hated being the reason for the tension between them, but he knew it was better she know now than find out later on in their relationship. He knew better than to think he’d be able to take that to his grave. His heart ached as he thought back to the look on her face.

*flashback*

“You did what?” Zelie said, back away immediately.

“Seonghwa, think long and hard about what you’re confessing to,” Hongjoong warned.

“It was that September, right before you got arrested. That day I was late to pick up the product from your apartment.”

“The day you said you were ‘caught up’. That’s what you were caught up about?”

Seonghwa nodded.

“Hwa, what the hell?” Santana asked. “You better explain, because this isn’t like you.”

“First things first, I didn’t want to kill him. I hated killings the most in the game. I was with Lil Victor. We weren’t doing anything, just posted up on the block. A car was driving by a little too slow, we got suspicious. The window rolled down and before we could realize, a gunshot flew out, hitting Lil Victor right in the head. I freaked out and ran into a nearby alley. I was told later on that Lil Victor was dead by the time he hit the ground, but at the time I wanted so badly to turn around. Help him. But I was trying to stay alive.” Seonghwa looked up to the ceiling, blinking away tears. “I remember the car hot on my tail, even going down the alley. There was a dead end at the end, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. I thought I was going to die. I was 22, I didn’t want to die! I had barely lived. So, I saw no other option. I had a Glock in my bag, it had a silencer. Bullets flew out from the car, so I ducked behind a dumpster and fired back. I kept going until whoever was in the car stopped firing. I think I used the entire magazine. The car glass was shattered, and for the first time I saw who was in the car. It was Big Ray, he was hanging out of the passenger window, pistol in hand. There was another man in the driver’s side. He was hit too. I ran off when I realized who it was. I went home, thinking what the fuck should I do. I had just killed two men. I figured the easiest thing would be to keep going like nothing happened. That’s why I was late that day.”

“So you just ran? What if you could’ve saved him?” Zelie asked defensively.

“Never would’ve worked.” Hongjoong shook his head. “Involve the cops and EMT, you end up incriminating everyone, including yourself.”

“So you’re saying he was right in just letting my dad bleed out?”

“It was either death or jail, Zelie. Think about it. The EMT is gonna see he was shot and was holding a gun that didn’t match the bullets that killed him. That causes a police investigation. They find out Hwa shot him, they’re gonna wanna know why he hunted Hwa down in the first place. Your dad would already be going down for killing Lil Victor. Gangsters, especially the old school ones, would rather die than be in prison. That’s why they mock HJ to this day.” Santana said.

Hongjoong nodded. “There’s this stigma about drug dealers that go down without a fight. I lost respect from a lot of people for that. Your brother included.”

“So that’s it? He just gets away with killing my father?” Zelie exclaimed.

“Don’t forget that your father was the cause of this, Zelie. We shouldn’t speak ill of the deceased but let’s tell it like it is. Had your father not chased Seonghwa down, he wouldn’t have to live with this guilt. Lil Victor would be alive. And most importantly, your dad would be alive. Seonghwa would’ve never had to shoot that day. He wasn’t targeting your father, it was the other way around. Most dealers, especially Seonghwa’s age and those who aren’t kingpins, don’t carry heat on them during the day. It’s dangerous and incriminating. My best bet is that your dad attacked in broad daylight thinking he wouldn’t have a weapon, and it backfired.”

Zelie nodded. “You’re right. Dead or in jail isn’t the best ultimatum.” She turned to Seonghwa. “But, I don’t think I can forgive you that easily. At least not right now. I didn’t have a relationship with him and never spoke to him, but he was still my father. And all this time I didn’t know he was gone.”

Seonghwa nodded. “I understand. I hope you can forgive me. For what it’s worth, I didn’t know it was him until after. I was just defending myself. And I just found out an hour ago that was your father. I hate that it had to come to the light like this. Do you want to go home?”

Zelie nodded, hugging Santana and walking out the door.

Seonghwa dapped Hongjoong up. “See you later, man. I hate that I kept this from you, too.”

“Don’t stress it, man. Worry about Zelie right now. Ironically, despite trying to get away from you, she needs you right now. No matter how much she ignores you or doesn’t want to see you, stand by her.” Hongjoong said. Seonghwa nodded, following Zelie out.

“I can’t believe you guys were dealing and running from death and I had no idea,” Minjoon said, speaking for the first time since Seonghwa returned.

Hongjoong patted his back. “You were a kid. Still are. You ain’t have to know allat. Let’s all just get some sleep.”

*End of Flashback*

That was last night. Seonghwa slept on the couch to give Zelie space, and in the morning, he got dressed and took a walk. He ran into Minseo again, who oddly enough was nice to talk to. Despite everything, he missed his sister.

And now here he was, back home and being ignored. He sighed, putting the groceries away, unaware that Zelie was watching him intently. She grabbed an extra plate from the cabinet, filling it with rice, beans, and chicken before handing it to Seonghwa. He looked down at the plate in surprise, before taking it.

“Thank you.” He said, and she nodded in response. They sat on opposite sides of the couch, eating in silence. The occasional buzz of their phones would interrupt from time to time, but no words were exchanged.

An hour past before Zelie sighed. “You know, when you first admitted it, I wanted to hate you. The first man I’ve given myself to since coming back to NYC, the one I’ve had a crush on since culinary school is the same guy that used to deal drugs and killed my father. I wanted to blame you. The whole ride here, all last night. Then I woke up this morning and you were gone and I immediately felt lonely and wanted you to come back. That’s when I realized I didn’t blame you.”

Seonghwa turned to face her. “So, what do you feel?”

“I feel sad that my dad’s gone. Regret for never reaching out to him. But I feel the saddest for you.”

“Why?”

“You were standing on a corner, minding your business. You were attacked. I went over everything you said in my head this morning and realized, you could’ve shot him right there on the street. But you didn’t. In that alley, you saw no other choice. I thought about what I would’ve done, and honestly, in a moment like that it’s fight or flight. I would’ve done anything to save my life, and you did the same. He targeted you. I can’t be mad at you for that.”

Seonghwa approached her haphazardly, caressing her cheek ever so softly. She tilted her head, melting into his touch. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt anyone; that’s why I ran in the first place. Zelie, I swear if I had known that was your father, I’d have said something earlier. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know. We’ve literally been dating for a blink of an eye and only known each other casually for a few years but I believe I know you. Not the way my brother does. I see the real you. The kind of guy that gives one-on-one lessons when I couldn’t get the recipes right. Stayed hours after closing just to make sure I understood. The kind of guy that offers an internship to anyone with potential. Took me into your home when I needed it. You may have a past, but you’re making up for it and it’s clear to see you want to be there for others so they don’t go through what you did.” She leaned forward, kissing his lips softly. “You may not be perfect, but you don’t have to be. You’re just right.”

Seonghwa smiled. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Yeah.” She replied, causing him to roll his eyes. “So now what?” She sighed.

“We still have the Get Down to prepare for,” Seonghwa said thoughtfully.

“You’re still going to that?” Zelie asked.

“We all are. Even Soojin. It might sound dumb, but when a kingpin calls for you, you answer. Do you have any formal dresses or anything?”

Zelie shook her head. “Just the dress from Forever 21 that I graduated in.”

“So no. I can call Santana and see where she’s going to get hers and see if we can find something for you there?”

Zelie shrugged. “Sounds good. I’m on a bit of a budget though.”

Seonghwa looked up at her. “You’re fucking the guy that cuts your check. There is no limit for you.”

Seonghwa pulled into the parking lot of the mall Santana told them to meet her in. They headed to the food court, where Santana was eating a pretzel.

“You guys took too long, so I got a snack.” She explained when they approached her.

“Tana, it’s been 15 minutes.” Seonghwa said.

She shrugged. “A girl’s gotta eat.” She grabbed her trash, placing it in a bin. “The place is upstairs, right next door to my store.”

“You own your own store?” Zelie asked incredulously.

Santana nodded. “Santana’s Threads. It started with one little boutique in The Bronx, and within two years I was able to get a contract with the mall to open another one here in Brooklyn. I’m hoping to open up in Queens after the baby is born. My goal is to be in all five boroughs.”

“If anyone can meet that goal, it’s Santana. The girl’s got determination and grit. I won’t be surprised if people start wearing Santana’s Threads in Milan.”

Santana put her hand on her chest. “Hwa, I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

They make it up to the store, which was a small but upscale boutique with walls covered in dresses of different styles, colors, and lengths. A short, old man jumped up from behind the counter, his eyes lighting up at seeing Santana.

“Santana! Long-time! You’re about to pop!” He said, embracing her.

“Hey Pascale, how’s everything?” Santana asked, returning the gesture.

“Oh, the mall is so boring without you, dear. No one comes to visit an old man like me.” He said sadly, his Italian accent thick as ice.

“Just a little while longer, Pascale, and I’ll be back to bother you. This is my friend, Zelie, and her boyfriend, Seonghwa. We have an event to go to and we need some formalwear.”

Pascale clapped his hands. “Say no more! You’ve come to the right place.” He grabbed Zelie’s hand. “For you, my dear, I know just the dress.” He led the three to the back, where there were plush, white seats and several dressing rooms with thick white curtains.

Pascale returned with a plastic garment bag and handed it to Zelie. “Quick, dear! Try it on! In my 40 years of work, I have never suggested a wrong dress!”

Zelie rushed into the dressing room and opened the garment bag. Inside was a beautiful, gold gown with a deep v-neck plunge and spaghetti straps. The bottom flowed out into a sheer tulle material of the same color.

“This has to cost a fortune.” She mumbled as she slid into the dress. Just as Pascale said, he didn’t suggest a wrong dress. The garment fit Zelie like a glove, and the metallic color popped against her mahogany skin.

“It fits, but it might be too much.�� She said uncertainly.

“Just come out! Let’s see it!” Santana shouted.

Zelie took a deep breath, walking out of the dressing room.

“There it is! I knew it’d be a perfect fit.” Pascale said excitedly.

“Zelie, that dress is perfect. You have to get it! Seonghwa, what do you think?” Santana said, and everyone turned to the raven-haired guy in the corner.

“I think you look beautiful.” He said in a small voice, quickly diverting his eyes to his phone.

Santana shook her head. “Guys are always so vague. You should get it.”

“How much is it?” Zelie said, reaching for the price tag.

“Doesn’t matter. Pascale, we’ll take it.” Seonghwa handed him his card.

“You’re just gonna pay without knowing the price?” Zelie exclaimed.

Seonghwa pulled her in close, his breath fanning her ear. “Seeing you in that dress is priceless.” He whispered, causing Zelie’s breath to hitch.

Santana, completely oblivious to the sultry exchange, made her way to the dressing room with a garment bag of her own. A few minutes later, she called out for Zelie to help her zip the dress up.

“So I’m guessing you two are okay now?” Santana asked as Zelie zipped her up.

She nodded. “We spoke about everything and I took time to process the situation this morning and…I don’t blame him. He did what he had to in order to survive.”

Santana nodded. “I’m happy for you guys. You deserve to be happy, and I think you do that for each other.” She turned around and posed playfully. “How do I look?” Her dress was similar to Zelie’s, but in silver, with a bodice heavily adorned in jewels. It didn’t hide her bump, but rather highlighted it beautifully.

“You look ready for the Get Down.” Zelie said, the two girls laughing together.

The group paid for the dresses and headed out. They stood at the mall entrance, waiting for Hongjoong to pick Santana up.

When Hongjoong finally pulled up, he was visibly surprised to see the garment bag in Santana’s hand. “You found something that fits that isn’t a potato sack. I’m impressed.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Boy, don’t make me fight you.”

He laughed. “Even if you were wearing a potato sack, you’d still be the best dressed.”

She huffed. “You saved yourself. You get to live another day.”

Seonghwa and Zelie laughed as she got into the car and drove off.

Zelie turned to Seonghwa. “Ready to go?”

He nodded. “Maybe you could put that dress back on so I can take it off you.” He said, making Zelie laugh.

Stephie Here! I should point out that this chapter is third to last in this series! Some shit is gonna go down in the next chapter so I should warn you, and apologize in advance. I also want to get into writing for other members/groups so leave any requests you may have. Thanks for reading!

#ateez smut #ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff

7 notes · View notes

pingou7 · 5 years

Photo

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou for @thestarbirdfromtheashesStarbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

Update: Part 8 is published !

This part is dedicated to the ever kind @imsfire2 because she provided inspiration and support.

Read more on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 8: Fresnillo, Zacatecas, Day 6.

Walking back, they both try to keep their eyes focused on the path, trying their best to ignore the shift occurring between them. Against her own volition however, several times Jyn catches his eyes slipping to the right, quickly taking a look at her.

She feels like a teenager and she’s sure that somewhere Saw is frowning at her, like that one time when he realized she had a hickey on her neck. She’d been what, fourteen? So far, her interactions with Cassian have been much more tame, but the fact that Kes chose to retreat back early left them unbalanced, in uncharted territory.

She knows Gerrera would be disappointed in her if he knew that she let herself have fun while on the run. Not only she has let herself enjoy the beat and Cassian’s hold, but his chuckle too and his arm still nesting under hers as he guides her back in the busy streets of Fresnillo. She should pry his arm away but she doesn’t want to.

At Saba's house, Kes has been waiting for them, or at least they still find him nursing his drink under the arbor. Their host is already snoring in his hammock and doesn’t stir at all. What an odd duck their friend is, not at all the kind of acquaintance she would picture the two cops to have!

She envies other people’s easiness, it’s been five days since she’d last seen Bodhi, since she has run out of her flat, and while she has slept, she had not rested since. She called Baze before dinner, but as it went straight to voicemail, she didn’t leave a message. No trace back to Mexico just in case.

Kes seems surprised to see them, his gaze plainly showing he had somehow expected Cassian and her to make a beeline for the closest bed. Truthfully, Jyn’s blood is quite heated still, but it’s a gentle warmth, not the scorching blaze his friend had lit earlier this evening. However tempting it would be to discover if Cassian’s prowess included more intimate activities than dancing, she could not permit it.

Come morning they would be back to a runaway and two cops traveling together due to unlikely circumstances. Nothing more. And okay they’re amazingly friendly but while she is willing to risk her safety, she will not yield to the supposed attraction she feels for Captain Andor. Nothing good will come of it, she can let it become enjoyable, perhaps, but never distracting.

“Jyn, won’t you take a seat?” Cassian asks right on point, likely realizing she has zoned out.

“Enjoy yourself, did you kids?” Kes taunts instead, wiggling his eyebrows before stretching in his own chair.

“At least we weren’t drinking alone, cabrón,” Cassian deflects by eyeing the clear content in his friend’s glass.

“Let me drown my loneliness in peace, I did you a favor. Plus, I miss my wife and son and puppy and Sab’s not a great distraction.”

“How much did you have already, you’re turning whiny Dameron.”

“Not much, I would not want to steal your thunder, Mr. I’m brooding unless I can demonstrate my sick moves,” he replies, smirking.

“And what poison exactly is into this glass?”

Despite her current curiosity, Jyn cannot prevent a smile from blooming on her lips at their usual banter — leave it to her to snatch a comedic duo... — but it does make her curious and she doesn’t wish for the night to end yet. She doesn’t doubt that tomorrow they will be back on their insane road trip so she focuses on mundane things and sweet summer nights while they last.

“Mezcal, you didn’t learn about it, through your wanderlust? It’s a liquor made from agave.”

“I don’t think I do, but I’ve heard the name before. It’s something like tequila?”

The Charolastras share a long glance across from her, clearly having a silent conversation or a private joke, then Kes cracks his knuckles, adopting ostensibly a teaching stance. For a second she’s amused by his antics again, as Cassian solemnly pours the clear liquid into two tiny bowls set on the table. Jyn guesses they’re not fooling around like she assumed when Kes states calmly:

“While more known — and thus exported — Tequila is actually only made from blue agave, it’s mostly for tourists.”

“Don’t be snotty Dameron, tequila is still good. One properly made, that is. But I find Mezcal more varied,” Cassian offers.

“Why, there’s different sorts?”

“Of course, around forty to fifty sorts, I think,” Kes frowns, clearly looking at his best mate for confirmation. “You know, it’s actually a refined process, not easy to make and to find. I don’t have the exact ratio but —“

“After a hard acquired harvest, it takes cutting, burning, pressing by feet and several distilling,” Cassian cuts in, “so it takes days — sometimes more than a week — before a single drop ends up in a bottle. Actually the ratio is around ten kg for a single liter of liquor. It’s like... the sweat of Mexico, more precisely it’s the tears of fire of this country.”

“You’re really passionate about it, guys, it’s weird to hear Cass waxing poetry, Kes-adillas I’d understand, but...”

All to their admiration for this Mexican drinkable piece of culture, they don’t pick up the nicknames, despite the little smile that lifts a corner of her mouth. She’s even more intrigued, Cassian can tell, because he pushes his tiny bowl in her direction:

“Have a taste, Jyn.”

“Hey, this is no girlie stuff, let’s get her cheap tequila instead.”

“Excuse me, Sergeant Dameron, but I can probably drink you both under the table and besides, I’m not one for girlie stuff, I told you before.”

Both nod and the clear liquid burns in her mouth, its aroma surprisingly rich and smoky. She sips slowly like Kes does in front of her and she understands how their patriotism can shine through this particular alcohol. It’s great.

“How do you know so much about it anyway? Has it always been your preferred drink?”

“That too,” Cassian answers after a few seconds, “but actually, my father was a producer. Nothing professional, but he made a few bottles for family and friends.”

“So you helped him? I guess that’s why you’re so precise then...”

She’s fishing for information with less discretion than she usually observes, because alcohol effects aside, anything that entails learning facts about Cassian is worth the shot — pun intended. For all their constant nagging about her being closed off, he for one isn’t as forward as Kes. Yet her remark strains his smile further and Dameron stares stubbornly at the table when his friend replies:

“I didn’t get to help him, just saw him about. I was too young then.”

Not missing a beat, Cassian murmurs, as if speaking to himself:

“And I’m too old now.”

She’s startled and even Kes is left agape when he gets up suddenly and bids them a hasty goodnight without even pausing to hear their answer. Not that they could have uttered a single word, that is. Once Cassian disappears, Jyn turns to Kes hoping to make sense of this unexpected behavior, but he just shrugs.

“What the heck happened? What did I do?”

“Don’t worry Jyn, it’s just Cassian being... rudo. It will be better in the morning. It’s not easy for him to go back to Mexico, I think it’s worse for him than for me. I focus on good memories, he gets assaulted by bad ones. It’s not your fault.”

Yet, guilt is marring his handsome features, his flat tone indicating that it is far from the first time Cassian pulled something like this and he couldn’t stop it. She too feels sheepish, though even without Dameron’s reassurance, she realizes she had done nothing wrong. Be as it may, trying to understand things better, she asks:

“I got my past laid bare already, can’t you explain what has gotten into him?”

“It’s not my story to tell. But you might know that we’ve been raised by Gina’s sister before getting to the US?” At her nod he adds: “I’ve been orphaned young too and it’s harsh, but Cassian, he was devastated. He’s still beating himself up over it twenty years later.”

If Jyn Erso understands anything about life, it’s that you’re always carrying your ghosts wherever you go. Some days, it’s a light comforting presence, but more often than not it’s an unavoidable burden.

“I didn’t show it before,” Jyn starts awkwardly, changing the subject, “but as far as cops go, you’ve both been great with me. I’m not easy to be around, but you took in everything like troopers and I gave very little in return.”

“Don’t sweat it, having you around is an unexpected happenstance, designed by our Lord above or destiny if you prefer to put it like that, yet I value your presence. You reach Cassian so you deserve everything we can lend you, because, even including tonight, you’re making him smile Jyn, up to his crinkling eyes.”

“You do too, Kes. Watching you is like witnessing a comedic duo, when you’re not bickering.”

“That’s because I’ve got a lifetime of getting under his skin, I mean, he’s my brother, has been since first grade.”

“So?”

“If you asked around about Captain Andor, people who work with him every day would say he’s dedicated, loyal to a fault, a perfect soldier. But not the kind of guy easy to please, nor overly friendly.”

“He told me he’s circumspect but I understand that, I’m not exactly a Disney princess ether.”

“Can’t fault you here,” Kes snorts good-naturally before adding in a quiet voice she almost doesn’t catch, “but maybe that’s why with you, he lets his guard down, he reaches out, and I see you meeting him halfway.”

An angel passes, Jyn’s heart hammering stupidly in her chest and it takes everything not to raise the bait. Instead, she manages to ask flippantly:

“Cop, singer, romantic poet, therapist, you’re a man of many talents, aren’t you Kes-adillas?”

“I must be, with you two. But still, consider what I said, and now I close this delightful chat, I feel my balls shriveling up already.”

“Can’t have that.”

“My wife would never overcome the loss,” he deadpans while she lets out a giggle.

His sense of humor is clearly devastating but his eyes remain kind and serious. He stands up, has a gesture as if to kiss her on the cheek, but she instinctively squares her shoulders and he opts for squeezing her arm instead.

“Sleep well, Stardust,” he whispers gently, retreating back to the house.

“You too, Kes, and... thanks.”

He smiles and goes in what she had surmised to be Sandro’s room. Nobody had dared waking him up though, so she supposes it’s free for Kes to take. Honestly this particular stop is really weird... she hopes the morning, ridiculously close now, will clear the air because she might need all her might for the rest of the trip.

She debates with herself before entering the other free room — their host had prepared his couch for one of them, after all. But Gina’s bag is in that room so she must disturb Cassian if only to use necessary stuff. A shower before going to sleep sounds heavenly indeed.

She knocks and he bids her to enter instantly. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence beyond that though. His tight expression hardens his whole face and she doesn’t need Kes to tell her that he’s unnecessarily brooding.

But she had this kind of outburst before, she’s no stranger to family issues and she owes Cassian more than anybody. So, copying how Bodhi acts whenever she’s in a funk, she lays down next to him, hands pillowing her head. He ignores her presence and this is just as well because she already has the retort ready even though he won’t like to hear it. When she wanted to be left alone a few days ago, he didn’t let her either. Payback is a bitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers finally, after twenty breaths — because yes, she keeps count, it gives her something to focus on.

“Don’t mention it Cassian, it happens to everyone.”

Well, not quite everyone, she amends when his lips strain into a bitter smile, but it happens to her on a regular basis. The unpredictable lashing out becomes encompassing and when it cools off, the unease it leaves in its wake is just as painful. No sense in beating a dead horse anyway, right?

“I just got frustrated, you know? And it boiled over. You got in the middle of this and it’s not fair to you.”

The use of the word frustrated irks her for some reason and as Cassian refuses to meet her gaze, it does nothing to abates her awkwardness. Contrary to what Kes had said, maybe she had her part in his outburst earlier. Dancing with him, having fun, flirting a bit... she shouldn’t have done that, music or not. But this side of Cassian was so magnetic she couldn’t resist the pull. She hadn’t wanted to, if she’s honest.

“I enjoyed the night, Jyn,” he says, echoing her thoughts. “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“It felt great to leave the car, if anything.”

His eyes tighten and his lips expands a bit but he is not quite smiling. She’s somehow said the wrong thing, it sounded like a rebuke she didn’t mean, but further mumblings flee from her mind when his warm hand covers hers.

“I liked to dance with you, you’re not as bad as you seem to think. I’d want to try again,” he repeats, “if you’d let me.”

His tone is too earnest just to be speaking about dance, and she hopes the dimly lit room hides the blush blooming on her fair skin.

“You think you got me figured out then, Cassian?”

“Not quite yet. But I don’t mind so much, I can be patient.”

That she knows, somebody less tenacious would have given up by now. She doesn’t know what to make of his dedication, especially tonight.

“I should go shower and then to sleep,” she replies, “the couch is waiting for me and we’re still far from your destination, right?”

She’s never been to Mexico before and truly their map appeared quite nonsensical to her. Then again, she had quite a lot in mind when she had the opportunity to ponder on it. She hadn’t quite made up her mind to follow them all the way through then.

She wonders every morning if staying with them is the right course of action, but better the devil she knows... and, well, the Charolastras are really easy to be around, their presence are the perfect distraction. She’s even grown to like Dameron’s old mustang, she’s almost disappointed to know it won’t hit the road for much longer.

“We should reach Bernal tomorrow, but... I don’t mind if after preparing for sleep you come back here. I don’t want to chase you away.”

“I know, and you don’t, Cassian. But there’s a perfectly nice sleeping accommodation up for my taking, and... we should use this opportunity to gather our thoughts in private.”

She tried to be reassuring, to be tactful and nice, but he still nods dejectedly. Jyn should probably justify that he seems emotionally raw and she knows how mentally exhausted she is, not a good combo when sharing space, in sharing a bed all the more. But she doesn’t know how to word it without adding gasoline to the fire. Their easiness with bed sharing — not actually sleeping together except in the strictest sense of the word! — feels less and less platonic as days go on. She already can’t even explain how they’ve developed the habit, let alone how to halt it.

At a loss for words, she grabs her bag of things and breathes back a goodnight when Cassian whispers one, eyes even sadder.

It should not taste this bitter to Jyn. Surely it’s just the remnants of Mezcal on her tongue.

Yet, in the shower, curled up on the couch, she still feels his feather-light digits on her hips, and when she closes her eyes, it’s the earlier sight of his carefree smile that accompanies her to sleep.

#RebelCaptain #fanfiction #jyn erso #cassian andor #kes dameron #modern au #roadtrip #pingou writes

5 notes · View notes

distant-rose · 6 years

Text

Seal of Fate Ch. 3 (4/8)

Notes: Alright before anyone of you read this chapter, I feel the need to remind you that Emma Swan is not a bitch. Emma Swan is an amazing character with some flaws and whose life has been filled with all sorts of trauma. She has trust issues and most certainly PTSD. If you think someone with that background is going to have no issue trusting people, especially a magical seal man whom she’s known for like two weeks, without some issue then this story isn’t for you. This is a kind reminder that the canon events of Emma being abandoned, put in foster care and being pregnant with Henry in prison after the bullshit Neal pulled with her when she was 17 years old are canon in the Seal of Fate universe. So, with that being said, this chapter is mainly about Emma’s trauma and how it’s lead to her having a lot of trust issues. Do not come into my comments section and tell me that Emma Swan is a bitch for pushing away a seal man who she met two weeks ago. I will fight you. End of story. With that being said, there will be pay off for all the angst, anger and frustration here in the next chapter. I promise. I’m not pulling the rug out from underneath you. A special thanks to @aerica13 for being an amazing beta and for pushing me through this difficult chapter. I literally couldn’t have done with this without you. Thank you to @cssns and @drowned-dreamer for making my event experience so far amazing. Another big thank you to @katie-dub and @shireness-says for being my cheerleaders. Even though this story isn’t attracting a lot of traffic and it’s been a bit demoralizing, you make every word of this story worth it. Summary: Emma Swan is looking for only one thing - answers. Abandoned outside a police station in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard, Emma has dedicated her life to finding out where she comes from and why she was given away. She finds an unlikely partner in Killian, a selkie she inadvertently summons in a fit of frustration over her cold case. Word Count: 4,600+ AO3: [LINK] Chapters: Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Epilogue Rating: T+

Emma Swan’s life was regulated by series of long, self-imposed rules. She always filled her gas tank whenever she hit the quarter ‘til empty mark. She didn’t trust food that didn’t come prepackaged. She always wore bike shorts under her dresses because of that punk kid in her fifth group home that skirted her. On top of that proverbial list of rules, written in bold red ink and underlined three times, was that Emma Swan did not ever, under any circumstances, sleep with men.

She didn’t sleep with men. Period.

Well, she slept with men but a purely utilitarian fuck-and-run way that satisfied occasional itches and abated the loneliness for awhile. She didn’t spend the night and she absolutely did not cuddle. Those sort of things led to issues. It meant conversations that were best not had. It meant being completely vulnerable with someone who was more likely than not a stranger she picked up in a bar.

Hence why she went into a full meltdown mode when she awoke the next morning still on the beach, sand in her pants and Killian curled around her like a clingy octopus. The very sight of him drooling on her shoulder sent off vaguely Kill Bill sounding sirens in her head.

So Emma did what she did best.

She ran.

And she didn’t look back. Not even for her shoes.

She went back into her house, grabbed her cell phone and keys, then got in the Bug and drove all the way to Oak Bluffs. Never before had Emma been so happy with the lack of a real police force on the island because she was sure to be have been pulled over with how fast she drove. The drive had been tense. She hadn’t been able to relax and no amount of tinkering with the radio assuaged her chaotic thoughts.

Killian was getting under her skin. He had been barely been in her life for more than two weeks but he had already gotten closer to her than anyone had in the past decade. It was something she needed to rectify and fast.

“He’s going to leave,” she mumbled to herself, slapping her hands against the steering wheel. “Once this is over, he’s going to leave and everything is going to go back to normal.”

The switch from West Tisbury to Oak Bluffs was a noticeable one. Where Chilmark blended in the West Tisbury almost seamlessly with the long line of white oak trees and the overgrown shrubbery that guided the poorly paved roads, the boundary leading to Oak Bluffs was noticeably more populated with houses and stores. The Cape Cod style that dominated Menemsha and Chilmark wasn’t so common and Emma was surprised to see some of the buildings actually looked like they had been built after 1970. Where the majority of the houses Emma had previously encountered tended to stick to the gray scale, these buildings were flamboyant shades of flamingo pink, soft orange and lime green. They reminded her of the elaborate gingerbread houses she had seen in the windows of bakeries as a child. It was fresh and new side to the island that she not yet explored and she allowed her curiosity to overtake the anxious energy that had dominated her mind since she had awoke.

As she got further into town, the scenery became more settled and more urban in its demeanor. If it weren’t for the occasional gingerbread house, she wouldn’t have known that she was still stuck in the Vineyard. It felt good be somewhat back in civilisation again.

It wasn’t until she was washing up in the bathroom of the infamous Black Dog bakery that she finally took notice of her unkempt appearance. She had mascara lines running down her cheeks, her hair looked like a rat’s nest and her clothes were rumpled. No wonder the cashier had given her an odd look when she had bought a bear claw. She looked like hell.

After running her fingers through her hair and washing her face, Emma tried to make herself look somewhat presentable. Her attempts were met with limited success but there was only so much that she could do given the circumstances.

As she walked over to the hospital, she couldn’t help but feel bereft. Over the past week and half, she had gotten used to Killian’s persistent commentary and suggestions on how to proceed. His absence sat heavy in her chest, pressing down on her ribs like a stone.

She didn’t want to but Emma couldn’t help how much she missed him. The realisation made her angry. She hated herself for growing so fond and so dependent on his company. He was merely a temporary fixture in her life, just like everyone else.

She didn’t need him and was probably better off without his help anyway.

The thought became a mantra, a mental war cry, as she straightened out her shoulders and walked towards the reception desk with the same dread and determination of a gladiator entering an battle arena.

The receptionist was a surly looking woman who eyed her with an expression that made it clear she was less than impressed with Emma’s appearance.

“This isn’t a recovery center. If you’re looking for one, you’ll have to take the ferry over to Hyannis. There’s a pamphlet for it on your left.”

Emma bristled at the comment, self consciously smoothing over the wrinkles in her shirt.

“My name is Emma Swan, I’m private investigator. I was hoping to look at your birth records.”

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no,” she repeated, this time with a hint of an edge to voice.

Emma sighed, fishing out her wallet and handing over her identification and investigator’s permit. The woman didn’t even in look at them, merely looked up at her with the same disapproving scowl.

“That’s my private investigator’s licens-” “I know what it is,” the woman cut her off. “If it’s not a court ordered document, I’m not letting you look at our database. I don’t know if you’re aware, Little Miss Investigator, but there is such a thing called HIPAA which means those documents are protected.”

“HIPAA does not cover birth and death certificates,” Emma replied through gritted teeth. “Those are a matter of public record.”

“Oh goody,” the woman replied in a sarcastic tone, “then go bother the Registry of Vital Records like everyone else.”

“I can’t do that. I don’t know exactly the specific person I’m looking for. Only that I’m looking for a female born in October 1983. This is related to a police investigation of an abandoned child out in Memensha.”

“You’re wasting your time,” she snorted. “The police probably looked at it in the 80s. You honestly think you’re better than a bunch of cops?”

“Yes,” Emma replied bluntly, bracing her hands against the desk and staring down at the woman with a look just barely short of contempt. “Because they didn’t investigate it. Now, I would like to look at your October 1983 birth records please.”

“HIPAA says-” “I give zero shits what HIPAA says. Please get me your supervisor.”

“No.”

Emma let out a frustrated sound, yanking her hands off the table and running through her hair. Killian wouldn’t have run into this kind of trouble. He would have just smiled and made a comment about how pretty her disgusting hair looked and that woman would have been willing to hand over her own social security number. The very thought made her even more angry.

She pulled out her phone and immediately looked up the number for the Martha’s Vineyard Hospital, specifically for the medical records department. When she found the correct number, she punched it and stared the receptionist directly in the eye as she held the phone up to her ear.

“Martha’s Vineyard Hospital, Department of Records, this is Astrid speaking,” a woman on the other end of the line stated pleasantly.

“Hello Astrid, my name is Emma Swan, I’m a private investigator who is licensed in the states of Massachusetts, Maine, Connecticut, New Hampshire, New York and Florida. I’m investigating a cold case involving abandoned child in Menemsha October 1983. I was hoping I could look at your birth record files…”

There was a pause on the other end and Emma could hear the faint sound of conversation on the other end as she continued her staring contest with the nasty receptionist. A few moments passed before Astrid came back on the line.

“You wanted to look at the birth records during October in 1983?”

“Yes.”

There was another long pause. Emma counted the seconds in her head.

“Do you have a court order?”

“No,” she admitted. “But birth certificates are a matter of public record and as stated previously, I’m a licensed private investigator in the state of Massachusetts.”

“When did you plan on looking at the records?”

“Now, if that’s possible.”

There was a loud coughing noise on the other end followed by even more muffled conversation.

“Miss Swan, we need a little more time to get the records prepared for you. Give us a few hours, say after lunch around 2:30 and you can come down to the Records Department and have supervised access to the requested documents. Do you have more specific dates in mind or just the month of October?”

“Let’s keep it at the entire month of October just to be safe…”

“Okay. We will meet you at reception then and bring you down to Records at 2:30 then.”

“Thank you,” Emma replied, smirking at the receptionist. If she was feeling a little more immature, she would have fist pumped in her face. “I will see you then.”

After leaving the hospital, Emma wandered the streets of Oak Bluffs. She couldn’t help but feel that she was Martin Brody walking the streets of Amity Island. Everywhere she looked, it seemed to be tourist shops and ice cream places that had shut down for the winter. The only things that seemed to be open were the few restaurants like Sharky’s Cantina and Nancy’s. A large arcade on Main Street was also open despite the fact that there were only five kids inside, all of them crowding around some obnoxious game that involved loud shooting.

As she reached the docks, her phone buzzed. She frowned as she looked down at the screen, not recognising the number. She hit the ignore button as she began to examine the large yachts and fishing boats that were lined up. Some of them had clever names such as “The Codfather” and “The Aqua-holic.” Though the ship names held some amusement, she was shocked to see how far some were from home. Many of the ships docked were from Florida and South Carolina but there were a few from Jamaica and Bermuda. She couldn’t fathom why anyone from such sunny places would want to be in Martha’s Vineyard, especially in October.

It wasn’t until she was eating lunch at Dockside Marketplace that she realised whoever called her had left a message. Curious, she went to her voicemail and punched in her password.

It was Killian.

“Swan! Where are you! I woke up and you were gone! Your yellow death trap is gone! Are you alri-” Emma didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. In a fit of pettiness, she turned off her phone and spent the rest of her lunch in petulant silence, listening to Top 40s pop music as she munched unhappily on her onion rings.

When she returned to the hospital, the receptionist from before was gone and replaced by a young blonde with tired eyes and a kind smile. She was chatting with a brunette in scrubs that was leaning against the desk. They looked up as soon as she came in and gave her cautious smiles.

“Are you Emma Swan?” the brunette asked politely.

“Yes.”

“I’m Astrid Acker, I work in the Records Department. Do you mind showing me your ID and private detective’s license?”

Emma fished them out of her pocket and handed them over. Astrid looked at them both for a moment before nodding satisfaction and handing them back. She motioned for Emma to follow her down a long hallway. They reached a stairwell and descended down into the basement levels. It had a cold industrial feel to it, with exposed pipes lining the walls and sterile colored tiles. Astrid led her down another hallway before taking her into a sparsely decorated office. It was cluttered as hell and it immediately made her feel claustrophobic. There were three oversized desks, two that were covered in sprawling documents and dated computers while the other was completely clear save for a single case box.

Astrid pulled two chairs over to the clear desk. She held the first chair out to Emma before sitting in the other one. She pulled the lid off the box and glanced back at Emma.

“Martha’s Vineyard sees an average of 176 births per year,” she said quietly. “In 1983, there was a total of 216 births. 23 of those were born in the month of October. All of them are in that box.”

“23?”

“23,” she confirmed. “You can look at the records but you cannot take them, make copies or photos of them.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

Emma’s hands shook as she pulled the files from the box. Immediately she separated the males from the females, heart hammering in her chest as the number of files dropped from twenty-three to eight.

Six were born in the beginning of October. Only two fell into the potential time period that Emma was looking for. One was named Jennifer Cameron and the other was Julia Wright. She glanced up from the documents and back at Astrid.

“What’s the population size of Martha’s Vineyard?”

“Roughly 15,000 people.”

“Small.”

“I guess you can say that.”

Emma moved the eight files towards Astrid, every single atom of her being vibrating with tension. “Out of these eight files, do you know any of them personally?”

Astrid looked startled by the question. She gave Emma a long inquisitive look before opening each file and rattling off what she knew about each one.

“I don’t know Teresa...I don’t know Kayla either...or Laura….but I know Brenda. She dated my brother. They have two kids named Tony and Alana. Alison….if it’s the Alison I know, she left the Vineyard back in the tenth grade. Jen used to be friends with my brother but something happened and I don’t know what. Julia and Sarah were the mean girls growing up. Julia is married and owns a bed and breakfast in Chilmark and Veronica owns Vineyard Scoops in Edgartown.”

And just like that, all the energy, all the hope that Emma had, died. She felt like a popped balloon, scattered and deflated. Another dead end. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to be sad. She wanted to feel something but all she felt was numb.

“Thank you for your time,” Emma said after a moment before gathering all the strength she had left and standing up.

“I’m sorry.” Astrid was confused.

“None of these women are who I’m looking for.”

It wasn’t until she felt the hospital and was back by the docks that Emma felt something. A powerful and raw rage burned in her veins. She wanted to scream but she settled to for kicking a trash can and startling a small colony of seagulls.

Drawing a heavy breath, she turned her phone back on. She regretted the decision almost instantly. Twenty missed calls and nine messages left for her. All from the same number.

“Jesus Killian,” she mumbled under her breath as she called her voicemail.

“You have nine new messages…first message received today at 12:05pm...Swan! Where are you! I woke up and you were gone! Your yellow death trap is-” Emma deleted the message before it finished.

“Next new message received today at 12:34pm...Swan! Where are you! I’ve been looking everywhere-” She hit the delete button again.

“Next new message received today at 12:46pm...Swan, it’s me. I’m hoping you just went into town and got Granny’s or something...I’m going to go down and meet you. Call me back when you get this.”

“Next new message received today at 1:13pm...I just stopped by Granny’s...Ruby said she hasn’t seen you...Where are you? Please call me back.”

“Next new message received today at 1:19pm...Swan! I’m worried now! Where are you? I don’t understand what’s going on or why you won’t answer your talking phone.”

“Next new message received today at 1:27pm...Swan...please just answer me...I want to know what’s going on…Just talk to me…”

“Next new message received today at 1:31pm…I don’t know where you are but please just call me. I just want to know you’re okay.”

“Next new message received today at 1:45pm...You left me...”

She dropped her phone. All the emotion she thought she would feel after her latest failure came at the broken and defeated tone of Killian’s voice. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and she held her hand up to her face in order to stifle the cry that desperately wanted escape her lips. She felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

She took a moment to try and gather herself, wiping at her sniffling nose as she stared out into the marina, watching seagulls dive at the water in search of fresh prey. She almost forgot to listen to the final voice message that Killian had left her.

“...End of new message. To listen to it again...press one...To save it...press two...to erase it...press three…”

She pressed down on the first option, knowing it would be unpleasant and Killian would more than likely be screaming at her but there was a part of her, the self-loathing part, that felt she deserved it.

“New message received today at 2:56pm…Emma…” The way he said her name wasn’t angry. It was strained and filled with an emotion that words could not identify but she knew it on a fundamental level. Her blood went cold in her veins.

Something was wrong.

“Emma…” Killian repeated again and his time his voice wavered a bit. “The pelts...The pelts on Gold’s property...they’re...They’re selkie pelts.”

“Oh shit,” she whispered as the color drained from her face.

She had left Killian alone in Menemsha with a man who more likely than not hunted his kind. And more than that, she had left him without any means to defend himself; her taser and pistol were in the glove compartment of her car. Now, she was officially the world’s biggest asshole.

In the long list of self-imposed rules that Emma Swan had, near the top of the list was that she didn’t push the Bug faster than sixty miles per hour. There were practical reasons for this, mainly because the Bug was nearly two decades old and she didn’t fancy replacing it any time soon. She pressed the pedal to the floor as she raced down State Road and North Road on her way back to Menemsha, the needle on her speedometer jumping between seventy-five and eighty miles per hour.

She may have nearly killed more than a dozen rabbits on her way.

The Bug made its grievances known, sputtering and whining as she came to a grinding halt in front of the beach house. Emma barely acknowledged it over the thundering of her heart ramming against her chest as her eyes scanned the property, hoping against hope to see any sign that Killian was in the house and that he was alright.

There were no lights on in the house, but she didn’t expect any. Killian was practically an old man and had an almost amusing dislike for electricity. He had a habit of leaving the lights off as long as possible until he couldn’t read without them. It made Emma privately question a lot of what happened while he was stuck with Cora and her daughter during his five years stuck on land.

“Killian?” She called almost tentatively when she stepped into the house.

Only silence came to greet her. The stillness of the house unnerved her and she could feel her anxiety skyrocket in response.

“Killian!”

Various scenarios flashed into her mind but at the forefront was seeing his pelt hanging from the blood soaked rack on the front lawn of Gold’s property. Immediately, she scrambled up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. She didn’t bother with any pretenses. She knew exactly what she was looking for and where it was. She made a beeline for the large white dresser and pulled open the third drawer.

The sight of Killian’s pelt caused her to let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Without thinking, she pulled it out of the drawer and brought it to her face. She buried her nose in the thick fur, trying to take comfort in the fact that it was still in the house and not on the rack up the road.

She was almost surprised at how soft it was. Emma didn’t have much experience with fur, let alone seal fur but it felt incredibly silky and all she wanted to do was keep it against her skin.

“Swan?”

Emma froze, her cheek still rubbed against his pelt as she craned her head towards the doorway. He was looking at her with a guarded expression, shoulders tense and hands curled into tight fists. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that he was preparing himself for a fight.

“Where the fuck were you?” she hissed. “I got your message and I was scared out of my mind!”

“Got my messages, did you?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and raising his eyebrows at her. The coolness of his tone nearly made her flinch.

“Yes. I freaked out! You can’t leave messages like that and just run off! You could have been hurt! You could have been killed! I was fucking terrified that I was going to come home and see your pelt out there on that fucking rack!”

“I could say the same to you, love.”

“This isn’t a game, Killian!”

“I never said it was. I’m merely pointing out the hypocrisy as I’m seeing it.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell the chaotic squall of emotions that wanted to bubble up to the surface. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to lash out but she couldn’t necessarily deny the truth in his words.

“I should have called you back, I’m so-” “No, it shouldn’t even have gotten to that point,” he cut her off. “You should have woken me up, Emma! We’re supposed to be partners!”

“We’re not supposed to be anything.” The words leapt from her throat before she could stop them.

As soon as she said them, Killian reared back as if her words had hit him with physical force. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before in his life. They stood there for a brief moment in tense silence. The distance between them was only about eight feet but it felt much larger than that. It felt like a canyon that Emma wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to bridge.

“Where were you?” she asked again, this time in a softer tone.

Killian looked somewhat bereft, swallowing his words and looking away from her. For a moment, Emma wasn’t sure he was going to answer her.

“I went into the house.”

She gasped at his explanation, staring at him in disbelief. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t, Killian.”

“Considering all of today’s revelations, I’m shocked you care.”

“Of course I care! You could have been killed!”

“He wasn’t there,” he replied, still not looking at her. “He...I...He doesn’t just keep the pelts, Emma. There was a jar on the mantle...It was full of teeth...”

A cold shiver went down Emma’s spine. Ruby’s warning from her first day in Menemsha echoed in her head and a part of her wished she had given it more thought.

“How many?”

“I didn’t count,” Killian laughed humorously. A brittle smile crossed his lips and it made Emma feel sick. “I didn’t get close enough. I didn’t want to but countless...That whole place reeks of blood.”

“You shouldn’t have gone in there, Killian.”

His eyes cut to her. “And what should I have done, Swan? Waited for you? You cut out of here so swiftly, I wasn’t sure you were even going to come back.”

“Of course I was coming back. Don’t be an idiot. But Killian, think about this. Gold owns this town. No one knows who you are. You technically don’t exist here. He could have gotten to you and no one except me would have known something happened to you.”

“I’m very much aware of that, Swan.”

“Are you?”

“Yes, despite what you think, I’m not just a dumb animal. I’m quite intelligent despite your constant willingness to overlook that fact.”

“I know you’re smart-” “Yet you insist on treating me as I’m nothing more than dumb pet, not even worthy of leaving a note or even communicating with. Are you going to get me a ball to play with next? Make me eat out of a bowl?”

“You’re making a bigger deal of this than it actually it is,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“No. I’m just seeing the clear picture. You don’t trust me, or anyone for that matter! You would rather be alone than let yourself get burned again! Whoever he is, he must have done quite the number on you that you would rather be unhappy and alone than take any risks and let anyone in. Being alone is a bitter existence, take it from someone who knows.”

“Oh! Because you know everything!” Emma jeered.

“When it comes to being alone? Yes! I told you what happened to me. I told you about losing my family, losing Milah. I’m not unsympathetic to your plight, Emma, but you need to get it through your head that you’re not alone.”

She wanted to punch him; wanted nothing more than to break his nose. He was so full of shit and she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

“Oh fuck you,” she snarled. “Stop the bullshit. You don’t actually care. The only reason you’re still standing here is because you’re trapped. As soon as this is over, you’re just going to back. You won’t even blink.”

“If you honestly still believe that then I can’t help you,” he said softly with a disappointed look on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking back at her with a beseeching expression. “Look, I can’t do this right now. Just give me back my pelt.”

Emma froze. Her mind went blank at his request and she stared down at the pelt in her hands. Her fingers were curled into it so tightly that her skin was stretched white over her knuckles. She knew that the appropriate response was to give it back to him and let him go on his merry way but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of it. Without thinking, she instead tightened her own hold on it.

Killian stared at her, absolutely stunned. There was no mistaking the look of betrayal in his eyes. He stretched out his hand and Emma couldn’t help but notice that it was trembling.

“Emma…” He sounded broken.

Reluctantly, she let go of his pelt; depositing it in his hand before she could think more on her hesitation. She practically ran past him and took sanctuary in her room, trying to put as much distance as she could between them.

The tears didn’t come until she closed the door and it was firmly against her back.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fic #cs fanfiction #cs fanfic #cssns #seal of fate #my fic #my shit

52 notes · View notes

aquarianlights · 7 years

Text

OKAY FINALLY....HERE IS WHAT HAS BEEN GOING ON. I’M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG AND SO LATE. FUCK.

((C/Ped this from a FB post, so there may be a few...not understandable things here, but for the most part, you'll get what I'm saying. Tried to edit it to fit a generalized linguistic standard, so to speak. Idk. I tried. Here you go.))

OKAY Now that I'm finally not entirely exhausted and am not ready to jump off a bridge (yet), I am gonna fucking type this up coz everyone is asking me what's going on and I can't keep up with y'all. Damn. Okay, so. . .

The past two weeks have been fucking...awful. Literally the worst two weeks of my life I had ever had. It began with me doing something VERY illegal and my mom figuring it out when I didn't think it would happen the way it did. In fact, for someone who has a catastrophic thinking problem, I'm surprised this scenario did not enter my mind at any moment.

It was the moment I said "Wow. I really am a drug addict." I mean, I've known I was an addict for literally years but after what I did, I just couldn't even...I mean, this is something I could have gone to prison for life or double life for. So it kinda just...woke me up and I was like "fuck" but I kept going anyways and then I ran out of pills and everything else and didn't know what to do. . . which is precisely the moment my mom had found out what I had done.

Bad timing.

So she blocks me in the basement with her car so that I can't use my car. And it's been YEARS of me saying to my father "Can I PLEASE buy my car from you so I have legal ownership?" Every day. . .same response. . . "Yeah, of course! Just let me get around to it." Like...this goes on for like...since maybe 2013? 4ish years later...my mom starts holding it over my head. "The car isn't even legally yours so if you take it anywhere, I will just call the police and tell them you stole it." Well I couldn't anyways because she blocked me in with her car. The only way I could have driven it was directly off the mountain cliff and over the edge, which I was considering, but felt too scared that I might hurt an animal in the process since it's all forest and trees and such where I am and our neighbours down the road have free-roam dogs. So despite the fact I would have LOVED to have just gunned the accelerator off the edge of that cliff, I didn't.

Then they barricade me in my room and won't let me out. This isn't unusual. Normally they turn off the power to the basement and leave me down there. But this time they actually barricaded me in the ROOM and not just the basement. I had no water and no access to water. Or anything else. And then my mom would come pounding on my door and screaming and at one point she had my dad hold me down while she took every single one of my medications, including the most important one, my mood stabilizer, and ripped them out of my hands. So after that, I was just screaming at the top of my lungs and pulling my hair out and banging my head against the wall remembering "Only the head has pain receptors. The brain doesn't." Thinking maybe if I could just bash my skull in to the point of brains, then I wouldn't feel anything and could physically rip my brain out by pieces since I wouldn't be able to feel anything. But then my parents came downstairs obviously coz of the noise of me banging my head against the wall as hard as I could and I ran and pushed the couch in my room against the door and pushed the table against that and pushed the bed against that. Which ...minus a small triangular bureau thing by my bed, that's all the furniture in my room.

So...I couldn't get out or in for days. This was during a period of which my dad had just gotten out of the geriatric ward and my mom was dealing with his new weird habits and medication reactions. So obvs, I mean, I'M the one who barricaded myself in. Why should they deal with me? I get that.

I just...pulled the barricade out from my side and pushed on the other side for what felt like hours until it gave out. I grabbed my bag, put my laptop and notepad for school in it, chargers, phone, and left.

Now. . .if you've ever been up my mountain, you'll know it's a 10 minute DRIVE up there. Nah, fam, I walked all that. And then walked more...and more...and more...and there was no signal...anywhere...Idk how long I walked. But I was wearing odd clothing because nothing was clean obviously. I was wearing a sweater with nothing underneath and shorts and plaid shoes and I had lost my glasses so I didn't even have those. And I ended up somewhere on this road...Idk how far I went but I kept checking for service to text any friend to see if they would let me couch hop for one or two nights. But no. No signal. So I started walking back.

It was too hot. I laid down on the very edge of the pavement of this tiny, windy, backroad and I remember looking up at the trees and seeing the sun shine through the leaves and just...being in awe of the beauty. I went to take a picture of it with my phone but then I blacked out.

Somewhere during this time, a car almost hit me and left skid marks on the road which the police pointed out later. Idk if I was awake for that or not. But then I woke up to this really sweet mom and she had her van stopped beside me and she was holding me and shaking me and her little ...gradeschooler(??) age kid was like screaming at her like "IS HE ALIVE!?" or something. I'm not entirely sure what. Somewhere during that time, local 911 dispatch was called from my phone. Maybe I did it. Maybe she did. Idk. But local 911 dispatch works even when you don't have service, so. . .thank god for that? I guess. Maybe not. It probably would have been better if I had just been hit by a car and died, honestly.

Legit 3 ambulances and 1 cop car showed up. I was withdrawing really, really badly and I hadn't had any water in literal days and I obviously hadn't eaten in even longer than that. I was super dehydrated and malnourished and overexhausted, yet my stats were okay. Like, everything like my BP and temp and pulse checked out. My BP is chronically low and lowered even more by the BP med I take for migraines so it's obvious that it was a "little high, but normal". And my temp was not too high. And my pulse wasn't thready, which I had already checked myself to make sure I could just go to sleep on the road and wake up later after resting. The EMT's said I could go with them or not. And the cop said "You're 25. If you wanna walk away from me right now and keep walking down that road and go to sleep on the side of the road, I can't stop you. But by the skid marks on the road here (like I mentioned), I'm pretty sure you're going to get hit by a car. So..." I mean, well, if that's not my damn white privilege at its finest... But, anyways, I said "Yeah, y'know what, I'm just gonna keep walking." Then the cop pulls me aside and is like "No. I really don't think you should." And one of the EMTs knew my mom from when she worked at the same hospital he worked at and had been up to our house plenty of times. So he drove up to her house and brought her back because, yknow...no service. And I told the police and EMTs to just...lemme go from there. I didn't want police involved. Coz, as the officer said, "You're 25. You make your own decisions at this point in life." So I did.

I adamantly told my mother I wasn't going back with her and she was about to scream at me but then I threw up blood. Just...pure blood. And idk how I got to Asheville Memorial Trauma Center, but I did. They had a helipad. It was like being in a Grey's Anatomy episode coz they're a level 1 trauma center. Omg. So cool. They had all this fancy equipment like that green vein scan thingy where you run it over the AC or the hand and it just shows you where the veins are so you don't have to feel for them. It was fascinating.

I got stuck maybe 8 times, though. For blood draws and such. Coz my veins are small and they roll and I'm a very hard stick.

I don't remember much from the time I was there but we didn't leave until like...idk, idr, maybe 4am? We got home around 6am. Dad had locked us out of the house. The key was in view on the inside from the window and I was delirious and laughing while my mom was fuming angry and screaming for my dad to wake up and pounding on the door.

Something happened between this that I don't remember. Lots of black-out periods, obvs.

I slept. I withdrew. Hard. Lots of pain. This is day 5 of totally nothing and there's STILL lots of pain. Then the same thing happened. My mom barricaded my car in and took my meds from me and locked me in the basement. So I said...fuck it....and lied and said I had friends to stay with, even though I hadn't even contacted anyone at this point yet. Coz I figured that would make her let me leave if she knew a friend was involved. And she still wouldn't let me out unless I gave a full name, address, and telephone number. She kept saying this was all for "my safety". I couldn't handle it. I can't handle being in that house anyways. Anyone with depression will know that environment affects your moods VERY highly. So I was not only withdrawing from opiates, benzos, ambien, a BP med for migraines, but also cold turkey from my mood stabilizer. Like, I'm surprised I didn't die. I wish I would have. I have never been in so much pure physical and mental agony in my life.

I don't remember much of the next few days. And I don't remember how we came to an agreement, but my mom gave me my meds back and let me out and let me take my car. I was crying and screaming so hard because she told me if I didn't come home and stay home, she was going to take my dog to a kill shelter. And there was nothing I could do.

I went down somewhere in town on a backroad where no one would find me in the pure dark and called my old therapist. He recommended several good 7-day detox programs for me that also handle psych issues. Because rehabs won't take me due to my psych issues because they don't have the capability to handle psych medications.

I had somehow convinced my mom to let me sleep in my car that night. She had been screaming about how "Human beings DO NOT live in cars, Killian!" And such nonsense that typical cis white baby boomers babble about. I don't remember much of that night. But I ended up in a hotel somehow. Where I have been for the past few days. I went to volunteer, got that job, was about to go scrub shopping with my mom when the withdrawals just got too intense and I thought "My doctor is a former addict. Like. Everyone knows this. He SHOULD help me. Right?" Wrong.

We went to my doctor and he was literally screaming at me and pointing his pen in my face saying he wasn't going to be manipulated by a bipolar drug addict anymore. And I have NEVER been diagnosed bipolar. Ever. That has never come up even once except with him. I am most definitely NOT bipolar. And when I said that, he's like screaming at me that I'm definitely bipolar and that he's cutting me off of everything except my mood stabilizer and that I need to get in with a psychiatrist if I want my benzos back, which are what I need, and a neurologist if I want my BP meds back, and where the hell I'm going to find Ambien to sleep? Fuck.

AND THEN He starts yelling about how he's never had a case of costochondritis in his 30-something years of being a doctor and that I am lying about it. But my mom was in the room and she's like quietly shaking her head. Because I have been diagnosed three times now with costo. It's supposed to be short term. But mine is long term and that's where it gets confusing because costo has never really lasted this long in many people in the entire world so far. And he just screams at me that it's all psychological and that I have too many problems and that I'm never going to make it through school, so why am I even trying, and then says that I am probably going to be living in a state mental institution by the age of 30 or less.

I just walked out at this point. Thank god I had my car. I drove off. Drove. For a while. Got lost. Stopped at a rest stop and texted my platonic soul mate. I was ready to drive to New Orleans right then without anything at all. But I calmed down a bit after popping one of the few ativan or valium (Idr) I have left and came up with a better plan because even my therapist said "You're being dismissive of my help. I don't think you want my help. This is not going to end well." But no. I don't even care anymore. I'm going to get through this.

Got set up in a very cheap hotel near my volunteer shelter for 3 days to sort things out and come up with a plan. So I have been wracking my brain and doing SO much research and talking to so many friends about potential living arrangements. But nothing came up. I need to be in a city or heavily populated suburb because I cannot HANDLE being isolated and I cannot handle living by myself either.

So best friend and I eventually came up with a plan. Thank god her roommates are such wonderful people. I love them both so much.

The Tech school I can AFFORD to get into is in Asheville. And I want more hands on experience than the online world is giving me. I want to be able to dissect things and do actual venipuncture restraint positions on dogs bigger than me and I want to do all these things PHYSICALLY. I want HANDS-ON experience and I just...can't get a shadowing position in such a small town.

Problem being, if I leave NC for over a month, I lose my disability, SSI, EBT, and Medicaid. I could do without disability, SSI, and EBT...but I cannot afford my medications without Medicaid. So I'm not sure what I'm going to do while going to school because I only get about 650ish a month from my disability and about 50 from my SSI and 74 on my EBT which my parents use because I really don't eat coz of my anorexia and depression and anxiety combo. But my Medicaid pushes meds that are normally around 200-300 dollars out of pocket, even with discounts like GoodRx, pushes them all the way down to 3 dollars a piece. And my mood stabilizer is especially pricey. So Idk what I'm gonna do when I move in with someone in Asheville coz I will want to be focusing on school and shadowing/interning and volunteering and not have to worry about working, but then. . .I want to work, too. But only at a vet's office or somewhere that deals with medical things. I'm literally 1 class away from getting my vet transfer degree. But do you know why I started over from scratch? Because I can't handle the speech class which is the last and only class I need AND because this degree, albeit a fully accredited AA, is nothing more than a "Here. You have taken all the gen ed classes and a million extracurriculars and now you can use this degree to get into a vet tech school!" Which, I mean, is great, because I REALLY want to get into North Carolina Univeristy in Raleigh. . .that would be my ideal school for vet tech training in this state (not my ideal state, obvs...I hate the south and I want to live in Massachusetts, but it's too expensive). But. . .the in-state tuition is above 10k. I highly doubt any sort of financial aid would cover all of that, even with Pell Grants.

Yes, I realize that becoming a tech and then going for the full vet surgeon licensing is gonna put me in debt until long after I die and that I'm going to be paying back literal millions of dollars worth of loans for the rest of my life and beyond. But why go to a school like that for 10k when they have the same hands-on program at a fully accredited community college? I never even realized how much of a difference the community college price versus university price was. . .because I've had Florida Pre-Paid this whole time and haven't had to pay anything big yet and right now my loan paybacks are at about 1k-2k at the most. I just...would uh...to add a 10k on top of that... (for one semester)...and then another 10k (for one more semester)...then two more 10k's for the last two semesters....I don't know if I could do all that. And then I have to PAY to take three different tests and if I fail even one, all that training was for nothing. And of course, applications and records and SAT score retrieval all cost money, too. AND THIS IS JUST FOR TECH SCHOOL. NOT EVEN FULL VET LICENSING AND SURGICAL LICENSING. So despite NC State and Raleigh being my dream in this state. . .it's just not. . .I don't think it's a wise decision. So I'm aiming for Asheville.

Now. . .all my disability money and SSI will be going to rent and utilities and I'm totally willing to share my EBT with whatever roommate I end up with, but I will lose ALL of that if I start any kind of job. Even a min wage retail job. And I'm fine with that. I will work till it kills me to make rent and utilities and such. But it's the FUCKING MEDICAID. If I start working, I lose my Medicaid, too. ...and I can't afford my meds without it. So...I'm not sure what to do here. I don't have credit yet but if I were to GET a credit card and gain credit, it would immediately be awful because of all my medical debt and there's no coming back from that coz I just can't do it in this economy. Which is exactly why I have put off getting any sort of credit. For...my entire adult life.

But right now...my plan is...go to New Orleans with my three good friends. Stay there for 2 weeks-month tops, which they said is totally fine and I'm completely welcome. Not like we haven't done this before in opposite situations anyways. Lmao. We help each other as much as we can. Next step? Gain roommate in Asheville through several roommate matching sites I found. Move there. THEN work on getting into the college I want and transferring my online credits and all the credits from the two other colleges I'm in and transferring my SAT scores whilst attempting to find an internship or shadowing position. And after that? I'm really not sure. I don't have a plan from there. But my mom agreed to keep my double coat dog brushed, cleaned, updated on his shots, fed properly like I feed him (NO HUMAN FOOD DAMNIT), bathed, nails clipped, butt shaved, and get the anesthesia dentistry done he needs for the next 2 years while I get my life in order. It's going to literally kill me to be away from him like that. But she said if I am not "stable to her liking" in 2 years, she will put him in a kill shelter. So not only do I WANT to do this, I HAVE to do this. Because if that happened. . .that would be the absolute last straw at any chance I would have of recovery. That dog is my life. Hell, I have his name tattooed on my wrist. I spend every waking second with him and even these couple weeks of in and out of consciousness was hell without him. I was worried about him every goddamn second and I could hear him borking and howling upstairs while I was barricaded downstairs and it would just kill me. It was like I could physically feel my heart being stabbed.

Annnd....Idk how I'm going to find a roommate that will take in an asexual, polyamorous, panromantic, nerdy recluse like me with questionable future financial stability and no credit. But even if I have to live in my car to get through school, find a place, and get my dog with me, I'll do it. I'm HOPING I will find a roommate that likes me AND a vicious little (read: very large) neurotic pomeranian in tech school. Someone who ALSO has a dog or AT LEAST a cat so that my dog will not be lonely while I am gone all day. I don't want to have to take him in with me alone and then be gone literally all day and only see him for 2 seconds before falling asleep and getting the only interaction with him possible at feeding time and to briefly take him out to go potty. I don't want that for him. He needs more. He deserves more. At least, leaving him with my mom and dad, he will be safe and taken care of and will have his "sister" and the cats to play with and he can bork to his hearts content. And my dad is retired and my mom only works 4 days a week, so he will be walked every day and taken out appropriately and I made them sign a document stating they would do this for 2 years.

So...tomorrow...I am scouring Asheville, every surrounding town within a 15 mile radius, and one within a 20 mile radius, to see what everything looks like in person and make sure the areas are diversified and active and are NOT a small town or even close to a regular sized town, but much bigger and much more diversified than a goddamn southern town with a bunch of white deer hunting orange overlord voters and then I'm gonna make it back in time for the Discovery premiere (Trekkie thing) coz it will be legendary. Like...Kirk's premiere, kinda legendary. And then I'm gonna pack after that, cuddle with my dog all night, and...leave for New Orleans whenever I wake up if I manage to sleep. Or leave when I finally decide "Fuck it, I can't stay in bed any longer." And I'll say goodbye to my dog.....and...cry..a lot...and hug him and kiss him and take tons of pictures and oh god now I'm crying.

That's all just the basics, though. There has been a lot of other less major stuff going on that's getting to me but. . .I will be so goddamn happy to see my three friends that are taking me in that I think I'm gonna cry good tears when I get there.

It’s really hard to think straight when you’re withdrawing AND the most impulsive person in the world.

Just gotta say...I thought dealing with generalized anxiety without meds was hard. Nah...dealing with panic disorder without meds is impossible. I can't fucking do anything without having a mostly physical style panic attack every 2 goddamn seconds. Feels worse than withdrawals, honestly. I have a couple benzos left...but literally only like 2 ativan and maybe 5 valium? So...trying to save those for like...really hard moments like the first day of an internship or something. So I have a plan about that, too, and Idk if it’s going to work, but I am DONE writing right now.

THANK YOU GOODNIGHT.

#if you have questions just message me #i'm sorry this is so long and so late #ugh it took me like an hour to type up finally #and if i wasn't clear on something just ask #or if i made a discrepancy then please just message me and tell me coz i am half asleep rn #and also none of my memories are ever in chronological order soooo.....#sorry not sorry lol #anyways #i'm okay for now #i mean #technically #i'm NOT okay #but i WILL BE okay #i also have a handful of messages to still get to #i'm so sorry you guys #got my queue up to almost 100 again #but i'mma be awol for a while now #love you all #personal

1 note · View note

caffeinatedhealer · 4 years

Text

Is this it?

I wake up, I go to work, I spend 8 hours in my office practically speaking to no one, I get home and cook, by the time I finish eating, I’m too tired to do much. I don’t feel physically tired, just depressed. I’ve legitimately asked myself “why am I even awake? What is there for me to even do?” and I just... go to sleep by 9 o’clock. I wake up, and I do it all over again. It’s been like this for almost a year now. I feel so isolated, so alone.

I’ve been trying to "suck it up” and do things I enjoy, but prefer to do with other people, such as going to movies, going out to eat, watching TV shows, etc. I went to a movie alone over the weekend and I tried a restaurant that I’ve wanted to eat at last night. It was okay, but the same thing always happens when I get home: the emptiness returns. The reason I like doing these things with other people is because the part I enjoy the most are the post-event conversations. “What was your favorite part?”, “Should we go back sometime?”, “What do you think will happen next?”. I haven’t had a genuine conversation with someone in so long, it’s all just performative “hello”s and “how are you”s with people at work. It’s fake and empty and I hate it, but I try to be polite and keep the act going.

I tried going out on a date once since my last relationship ended, and it turned into a nightmare. I met someone on a dating app and, very long story short, she was just using me for money and a place to stay. She kept saying things that made me feel special... “I think I really like you”, “I haven’t met anyone I’ve gotten along with this well before”, “It feels like you actually understand me”, “I can’t believe you like (thing), that’s my favorite!”, etc. We spent a together, practically living together, and then suddenly she just... snapped. She refused to talk to me, only wanted to watch TV alone, slept on the couch for hours at a time, and would scream at me to leave her alone if I asked what was bothering her. Admittedly, it was stupid of me to get involved with someone so hard so fast, but the way she acted and things she said made me feel like I wasn’t alone. I guess that was the point. Take advantage of some pathetic, lonely guy who she could squeeze food, money, and lodging out of. It turned into a shouting match eventually, and I had to call the cops to have her removed. Wonderful.

I don’t know how to meet people, especially with romantic intent in mind. Most of my hobbies keep me in the house, and those that take me outside of it are generally “male dominated spaces” anyway. Sometimes I’ll see someone working at a café or restaurant that I think is attractive and friendly, but I feel like an asshole bothering people at work, especially if it’s to ask them out. What if they’re already in a relationship? Also, what if we end up having nothing in common? So I just sort of go along and keep to myself, for fear of coming off like a creep who hits on people while they’re trying to do their job.

On top of everything else, I have a difficult time developing feelings for someone unless I get to know them. This was perfectly fine when I was in college or high school, where I was regularly forced to interact with the same people every day, some of which were guaranteed to be of similar age and the opposite gender. Now, I’m lucky if I’m even in the same room as a woman who is my age. My office is nothing but old men, the hobby/game stores I go to are all filled with guys, and I don’t really go anywhere else...

It doesn’t help that I moved out to the middle of nowhere for this job. While I enjoy the work itself, and it pays better than any job I’ve had previously, there’s nothing to do out here. There’s nothing but farms and strip malls, nothing like being literally 10 min outside of Philly. My friends barely make an effort to keep in touch, either. I made a discord server specifically so we could keep talking and remain in contact, but over the past few months it’s fallen silent. I made an effort to post things or start conversations every couple of days, but no one responds, and it just sits there, ignored.

There are a small group of people for whom I try to remain strong, however. I know if anything ever happened to me, my mother would go insane. Even if we never communicate and have had a less-than-perfect relationship, I know that she worries about me. My friend Kris is very kind and supportive, and they’ve been one of the most impactful people in helping me weather through this turmoil of emotions. I wouldn’t want to hurt them by disappearing after everything they’ve done to try and help me. My friends, even though they’ve sort of gone quiet, would probably miss me. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel guilty, either.

Maybe I’ve just made too many mistakes in the past and this is my life now. When I was younger, I used to beg and plead to whatever higher power existed to just be alone in my own little world, but back then I was regularly being abused by my mother and other kids at school. I ended up so emotionally and psychologically twisted that when I finally started to meet people who genuinely liked me and were kind to me, I pushed them away or hurt them. Maybe I got healthy too late for it to matter. Maybe this is my punishment for waiting too long to actually address and adjust my issues. I know that sounds dramatic and fatalistic, but I can’t help but look back on my life and think of all the opportunities I had to have a normal, fulfilling life... and because of my own self-loathing, decided to blow it to pieces. Realistically, how many times can someone expect to do that and still have a shot at happiness?

I’m getting older, and where most of the people I know are getting married or buying houses with their spouse, I’m just... stuck. I’m rotting away, alone, spending half of my time doing chores and the other half sleeping, both just to keep my brain occupied and away from being reminded of how likely it is that this is the rest of my life. I have to quickly cycle past songs or movies that remind me of things that happened in the past. For some reason, I assume due to my trauma, I can remember things extremely well. This might seem like a benefit, until you stumble across a movie you first saw with an ex nearly ten years ago, and all the memories of that night spring to life as if it were yesterday. Her hair, her clothes, her voice, the way her body’s contours fit against yours while cuddling.... you can hear her saying the cute epithet that she chose for you... and it tears through you like cold steel, leaving you a twitching, shivering mess, a heaving pile of sadness and tears. Those days will never come back, she’ll never come back. She loved you and she’s never coming back.

I’m trying really to hold it all together, but spending so much time alone... feeling like I lost all my friends... not having someone special to come home to... It’s making everything feel so futile and useless. Why keep plugging along if my only reward is just the same unfulfilling emptiness, day after day.

I don’t know what else to say. I had to get this out somewhere, because I could already feel myself starting to get emotional at work thinking about it all.

Good bye for now, I guess.

0 notes

wishingfornever · 5 years

Text

2/22/2018 – No Contact: Siesta Thursday

I woke up at 8… fell asleep. Woke up at 11. Fell asleep. Woke up at 1. Staying awake.

Several dreams. The first dream was about my boss’s boss’s boss. Supposed to be a woman. Dreamed I was speaking with her but I can’t remember her face. Makes sense, since I have yet to see her face. Second dream… Esther. This one was different than recent Esther dreams. We were sitting in a room with other people, I was bored and she asked me if I wanted to read an article for couples who broke up and are trying to get back together again. I considered not going, but I reminded myself that I’d do everything I can to keep her. So, I said, “Actually, I would like that very much.”

Finally, the last dream I had, I was reminded that Esther and I no longer speak to each other and this saddened me. I fell asleep and I was crying, speaking to these people who weren’t really there. The room was dark. It was night. There was this woman there as well as several others. The woman wasn’t Ariel, but I had told this woman I loved her but I could never love her as much as I love Ariel. Then while I was crying, I rolled over to see the door open. I was alone at this time and I thought it was this same woman and I told her I’m sorry when she approached me. She got close enough and I tried to kiss her but she pulled back. As did I.

I realized it was my cousin, and apparently she was fired from her job and she was massively depressed, though she wanted to be fired. I reassured her, she left my room, I looked outside to this alleyway (that isn’t there in rl, it’s just these apartments out my window) and I saw a lot of rain. A lot of Mexicans too, like we were actually in Mexico and not a part of Houston that is heavily populated by Mexicans… which wouldn’t be too inaccurate to say, tbh.

Regardless, something told me they were Mexicans. I saw a couple walk down the street and I was jealous. Then I saw a man hit another man on the back of his head with a club. Then the police came. It was a mess.

Perhaps that dream was a reminder that I worry too much about myself when the world outside my window has… well, the burdens of the world. Criminals, cops, and lovers. Idk.

Anyways, the Boss’s Boss’s Boss. Triple B. She was supposed to inspect the store today. Yesterday, I closed. I did a poor job but I discovered… energy shots make my nose itch. It makes sense but I don’t have concrete evidence just yet. It’s very peculiar. Might have something to do with stress? Idk.

Customers are nice to me at work. I don’t know how to react. Several days ago, a woman tried to give me a bag of potato chips and a liter of pepsi. I told her I don’t drink soda and don’t like chips. She was nice and I felt horrible for saying no. Yesterday, I had a can of pringles and a two liter of root beer. I feel like an ass.

Of course, I hated the pringles and the two liter was to fix my water bottle which had become so dented I needed some carbonation to undent it. Worked great, btw.

I was given a box of chinese food from a coworker. Walked home with that. I have to say, it wasn’t my finest moment. Reason being is that there was chicken in it. I felt bad for that. I’m trying to be as vegetarian as possible. :/

Regardless, I ate everything. So consider 21st of February the last day I had meat. I’ll count until the next day I inevitably cheat. We’ll see.

My manager, the one I closed with last night… I legitimately think he hates Mexicans. Dan is his name. He’s the one who referred to customers as “Wetbacks” and on Monday (several days ago) said kid’s in the store were running loose because their parents were irresponsibly drinking and having a party a little bit down the way. I said “Oh, it’s Monday. Mondays are the worst days for partying.”

“Mexicans don’t care,” he said. “They party every night if they could and we have to deal with their kids because of it.”

The last comment, though perhaps not blatantly racist, didn’t sit right with me. The way he said Mexican… that was an issue I had.

Ironically, I had mentioned to the store manager (Jack) of Dan’s “Wetbacks” comment and how it caught me SO off guard. This wasn’t me reporting, I was just gabbing. That day when he said “Mexicans don’t care,” I found out he told Berenice, a shift manager like Dan. I asked him not to tell Dan about it. I don’t want to get involved in Workplace drama and if he knew I was gossiping, there would be a major conflict of interests and working would be… difficult.

I hate working with Dan. He smells, his breath smells, and he’s kind of a hassle. Bad days are made worse with him. I don’t have a lot of faith when working with him. He complains A LOT. Like so much. One of those. I try to be polite, but god damn. Like, he swears up and down that the store would fall apart without him (not those exact words, mind you).

Admittedly, he’s the only one who can do some chores because he is the only manager with a car. But, still. Some of the places he claims to have organized are kind of… crap.

I wonder if I’m just too extensive in my job or if everyone has phoned it in. I swear I’ve phoned it in but I’ve been wrong before.

So, remember how I wanted to message Marjane Satrapi? Ask her for advice? Not feeling so confident, so I won’t be doing that. I looked, and it’s probably a fan page I saw. I don’t have any chance in hell to get guidance from her.

It’s a shame. When she stopped identifying as Iranian, I could relate. When growing up, I pretended I wasn’t Mexican. My dad sort of made it out to be bad, so I thought so too. Now, I don’t want to identify as American but I don’t have anything else to be.

Dennis used to give me a hard time calling me, “Half-Breed.” A lot. It hurt more than I’d let on, but I ignored it. Whenever I mocked him, he was quick to say, “omg, wtf dude?!” but I never pointed it out. I guess I would have when dealing with Esther, but I was too emotional then. Might still be now.

He also called me “Mama’s Boy” a lot with Adriana which wasn’t as bad as half-breed because it was always my dad I had to call or whatever. I knew otherwise but half-breed… eh.

Whatever. Not trying to shit on Dennis for busting my balls. We all did it. Shane was the worst at it, though. Like, laughably bad. Fun times.

Right, Marjane.

I was hoping to get into a discussion with a fellow Marxist and discuss life… how to approach my dad, tell her about Esther, tell her my troubles, just… I need someone I feel I can relate with. Someone wiser than me. I won’t get that with my parents because my dad is part of the problem and my mom is too invested in me.

I really feel alone.

Tomorrow, I’ll message Esther. I’ll call my dad, too. Esther I will try to make quick. I’ll ask her if she’ll want me to change her name or whatever. Try to keep her identities secret. If not, I’ll keep the names how they are because… well, I’m lazy and I really don’t feel like changing ALL the names on a whim. But if she wants me to, I’ll listen. If she blocks me without saying a word, then I’ll assume she doesn’t mind.

Whatever the case, I’ll make it quick. Let her know I still care… perhaps she’ll see that and open up dialogue again. Won’t amount to much, but if there is a chance then this is the way to get there.

Of course, the worst case scenario is she blocks me immediately. The most likely scenario is that she messages me to tell me “Change my name” and then blocks me without saying anything else. The second to best case scenario is that she tells me to change her name, tells me she wishes me well, and then blocks me.

I can almost guarantee dialogue beyond that. Life hasn’t been kind to me, but… idk. Maybe sometime this year, things will get better.

Strangely enough, despite what’s happened since January, I feel like this may be my year. I mean, it started poorly… and continues to be mediocre, but there are a lot of things that are being released that appeals to my interests. Like, Age of Empires Definitive Edition is released (not for steam yet). Kingdom Come Deliverance (which has a bad title) is supposed to be pretty neat, if you can get past his HUGE forehead. Rome II Total War has more DLC being released for it for SOME FUCKING REASON. Doki Doki Literature club is a graphic novel about poetry… poetry.

I can’t play of these things, yet. Like, AoE isn’t for steam or Windows 8, KDC is too graphically intensive, Rome II DLC hasn’t been released yet or I refuse to get at full price, and DDLC is free to download but I won’t be downloading it yet. Why not? I don’t know, I figure I’d wait a little while to play through it myself but it’s already been spoiled for me so no rush.

Adela didn’t go to work today. She was too sick. Which is great because Max wasn’t in here. So, I sort of slept in if you say taking a nap at about noon is sleeping at noon. I have yet to eat and it’s 5. She’s going to barre soon and she’ll leave Max with me. I think I’ll do some exercise, weigh myself after, have breakfast, then do the dishes.

I look a lot thinner than I used to. I’ve lost a lot of belly weight. I also feel stronger than I have in months. I’ve never felt stronger which is perhaps to say I’ve never been weaker. I’m ashamed to admit that. But, I’ll get over it.

Speaking of getting over it, Max is in the room now. He is something of a pest as of late and has been avoiding me. He used to be super chill with me but something’s happened. Now when we’re in the same room, he pesters me until I let him out. He REALLY doesn’t want to even be in the same level as me. Like, he waits downstairs when I’m in the room and when I’m downstairs he’ll be upstairs.

Hrm… Perhaps this started when we stopped giving him treats? I can’t even remember.

He was walking over the keyboard as I was typing. Unfortunately, his anxiety worsened when discord went “BLEEP” and that scared the crap out of him. So, that makes him want to walk on the keyboard. And Max has the worst breath (not as bad as Dan’s, though).

Now that I think about it, everyone at work has bad breath. I hate it. But I’m reminded of myself because I don’t bathe a lot when I’m depressed and I was depressed for a very long time. :/

Eh. I’m bathing more than I ever had and I’ve never been so… emotionally unstable. Things change, I guess.

About to walk max. Tried to brush my hair. Looked in the mirror. Smiled.

I look like the joker if he were chunkier and more Mexican. The comic book joker. The joker there is super skinny, but I have his angry looking smile. Erm…

The reason for this is because I shaved yesterday. No more beard. It’ll grow back. But… I probably shouldn’t shave.

That said, I now way 241.5 pounds. What is that in Metric? Not sure. The US is dumb. But that’s pretty light. Last time I measured myself, I weighed a bit more. I’m still losing weight, but at a slow rate.

0 notes