Changing things up, bringing back muses from the dead.
painfullackthereof is now pantieconqueror
Tagging a few people I miss rping with. Love you.
"Not if you keep doing this." He says pulling her hand out of her pocket. "I know you Blue." He says with a small smirk on his face.
"I don’t, like, think that’s how it works, Z Man."
"We can’t just give it away." He repeated trying to get it to stick in his head. "Blue I love you and I would even without you being pregnant."
"You fucked me up." Blue begins to giggle again, her fingers pinching the end of a joint tucked away in her pocket. "I’m, like, going to get huge and, like, have a little life in here."
"What kid is every happy in the foster system?" He asked running a hand through his hair. "Why are you so…bubbly?" He asked arching his eyebrow at her.
"I don’t know, like, ones who’s other options is, like, drug dealing, nomad, fucked up, like, bums." Her giggling stopped and Blue ran a hand through her messy hair. "I mean, like, do you think we actually like, like each other or we’re just here because, like, this?"
"Don’t, stop Blue. We can’t just—" He sighed running his hand through his hair. He couldn’t think straight and damn did giving the baby away so he could get back on his drugs sound good at the moment. "We can’t do that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose my temper." He said after a moment.
"But we totally could." She giggled, half delirious. It was clear that Blue thought no one would notice that she dipped into her extensive back stock of mind toys: acid, mescaline, mushrooms. "Maybe it’d be happy."
He yelled tossing the chair in frustration. He hadn’t had his daily fix and was on edge. Turning his eyes locked with someone. “What the fuck are you looking at?” He snapped.
"Maybe we should just, like, give it away." She said, draped across the couch feeling utter exhaustion. With a growing baby belly and a sporadic week of sobriety, Blue was convinced the pair would be terrible parents. After all, they had never grow up, not in the way it mattered at least.
"You thought I was going to be mad?"
"I-I don’t want it…" She sobs. "I can’t be a mom, like, I never had one. I don’t know how to, like, do that, Zay. I can’t. I can’t."
"You’re not mad?"