#axisii

[geneticmisfit]

@axisii liked for a little something

          ‘‘ Do you need someone to dog-sit Bear ? Because I can totally do that. ’’ There is a smile that creeps on his face that he tries so badly to fight back, like he is already laughing at a joke that hasn’t happened yet, ‘‘ You can-- You can call me the Bear-by sitter.’’

[finesuicide]

' i have this thought which keeps me out of bed third day in a row. ' gaze dropped downward, bitten nails scratch a table's metallic surface. ' am i really alive or am i just existing ? '

startercall. //   (accepting !) / @axisii

[rootcaused]

@axisii continued from x. 

it’s sheer indulgence that has her pressing into sameen’s hands, nails lightly scratching against the back of her neck as her hips move slowly; she wants friction, but this sort of thing needs to be taken slowly, requires delicate timing. don’t want to spook the hens, after all. 

           “  baby?  “    

       this feeling is so rare that root keeps trying to catch it with her bare hands, always just outside of her grasp, the sharpness of this desire building inside her with every pass of a tongue on her throat. she wants sameen to climb inside her, dig out all the terrible meaty parts and leaving them on the sidewalk, she wants to be had and she wants it so badly it could shake her apart. 

[rootcaused]

@axisii

barry is a good guy. at least he likes to think so; walks his little sister to school, always cooks dinner for his mom on saturdays, had a job since he was thirteen to help with bills around the house (paper rounds, pizza boy, cleaning pools, that kinda stuff). barry believes in karma and past lives. barry doesn’t know why or what bad thing he did leads some complete whackjob to hold a gun to a strangers head and say:  “  you’re going to deliver a message for me, barry, or i’m going to blow this guy’s brains across the pavement.  “

barry cares about the environment, carbon emissions and the state of world affairs. he volunteers at shelters feeding soup to the homeless. the dude with a gun to his head? looks fucking terrified, and there isn’t a shadow of hesitation in the woman who holds him RANSOM. barry nods. 

             barry winds up being led to a street corner with an earpiece and the same cutesy but sinister voice feeding instructions. he walks to the corner and waits for another woman, her picture white knuckled in his slightly shaking hands, and when he sees her, sets off after her. 

        i wouldn’t get too close, if you know what’s good for you barry.    “  hey -- miss shaw?  “      

[rootcaused]

@axisii

         “  do you like it?  “    big smiles, nothing short of thrilled to see sameen, clutching the stethoscope around her neck with a WINK.   “  i thought about being a surgeon, but it just doesn’t have the same high stakes, y’know?  “  and because she can’t resist:     “  wanna play doctor and patient?  “

[rootcaused]

@axisii

       “  are you picturing me naked?  “

[rootcaused]

@axisii​

          “  doctor grey. this is a very pleasant surprise.  “

( change of meds, change of doctor –––– carmichael is her in-house therapist, but no longer presiding physician. it’s a nice CHANGE of pace these days but root has much bigger plans, and agent shaw’s presence throws a few things off kilter. at least –– for now. )

                            “  i didn’t know you cared.  “

[rootcaused]

@axisii

           all in all, this is by far the absolute worst thing they could have possibly done to her: root is not built PRISON, for confinement of any type. ( the cage had been bad enough. days bleeding into days bleeding into days without any other voice than harold’s - it hadn’t been the lack of contact with the machine, devastating though it was, but the lack of fresh air and otherness. it had been frustrating and undignified. this place? it’s fucking humiliating. ) she slides into a seat across from shaw in the yard (she watched shawshank as precursor research). 

( shaw is the one shining beacon and even that’s tenuous; the guards call her the crazy deaf chick constantly talking to herself and roll their eyes, file their reports, call her stupid and whacked - as if they have the audacity to believe themselves better, smarter - and she’s reminded of a less self aware lionel fusco. she HATES THEM. and every single person in it. it’s a matter of time until someone takes notice and packs her off to psych and if they do, it’s game over. )

             “  have you located the number yet? because i’ve figured out how to detach my toilet and the bald white supremacist in my cell keeps looking at me weird.  “    she hasn’t slept in two days. the machine won’t shut up, no matter how much she asks it to, and the guard who stalks her wing has a pornstache and likes to watch the women pee. it’s predatory. she’s going to gouge his eyes out.    “  i need out of here.  “