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strscrossed · 1 year ago

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high school reincarnation ficlet // part 1

honestly i wrote this through a mental illness flare up and the need for mikasa to be cared for so i apologize if this sucks. i'll do a part 2 if you guys really want it. anyway this is that scene where lara finds mikasa drunk at a party. enjoy.

It was your average high school party. Teenagers were getting drunk, others were disappearing into any available room with a door. There was nothing special or unusual about it.

Well there was one thing.

Lara wasn’t much of a party girl, she only went if she was invited out by some cutie but her date was nowhere to be found and any thought of him disappeared when she saw Mikasa Ackerman slumped in a corner after clearly too many drinks.

Lara didn’t know her well but she knew two things: first, she was a girl with a lot of problems and she only knew that through the words of casual acquaintances. Second, Eren Jaeger was in love with her.

The third reason was that she was a completely normal human being with a shred of decency. The girl was babbling something incoherent. She probably couldn’t tell her ass from her elbow at this point.

The girl's hair and face already had traces of vomit. She had to keep her conscience. She breathed through her nose as the girl pukes her guts into the bowl.

Lara didn’t know her story much. If they were talking about their previous lives, she knew even less. Mikasa wasn’t her friend. She wasn’t really an acquaintance. They hardly looked at each other and that was mostly because of Mikasa’s discomfort and Lara’s respect for her boundaries.

“Come on,” she whispered. “We have to get you cleaned up.”

“Wanna sleep,” she mumbles.

“We can’t. We have to get you cleaned up and get you some water, okay?”

Mikasa didn’t answer. She wasn’t able to stand.

This was insanity. From the few words she’d heard from Porco Galliard, she had a bit of a drinking problem which Eren was trying to fight all on his own. He’d apparently been successful. Until tonight.

She didn’t want to call him. Hell, she didn’t even know he’d pick up.

Worth a shot, right?

To her surprise, he actually picks up?

“Lara?” there was a mix of surprise and irritation in his voice. She could only imagine why. She’d heard Mikasa’s phone buzzing in her pocket a million times.

“She’s here,” she answered, cutting right to the chase.

Pause on the other line, “Where?”

She could hear the cautious relief in his voice and she really did not want to do this to him.

“Party,” she mumbled. “She’s completely trashed.”

There was silence on the other line for a few seconds. She heard a sharp inhale and she knew that he was pissed. She didn’t want to be here when he arrived but she couldn’t leave a drunk girl by herself at a party like this.

“Send me your location. I’m coming.”

The line went dead and Lara sighed. Mikasa was practically lying down on the floor and it was difficult not to find the whole thing sad. Last life, she was one of the strongest soldiers from Paradis Island. Sure Lara didn’t live long enough to see how it ended but Eren had told her enough. She experienced just enough.

It was hard to believe what a hot mess she was in this life.

“Come on,” she sighed. “You’re Mikasa Ackerman. You’re so much more than this…”

It sounded stupid coming from her mouth. She was the one that knew her the least.

Mikasa snorted but refused to talk. Fair, very fair. All things considered.

Lara sat next to her, hugging her knees to her chest. She smiled down at her, “I know what you might think of me and I know all of this is worthless coming from me. I don’t even know if you’ll remember any of this, but you are. Everyone says it and I believe it. But girl, you need to pick yourself up again. Eren won’t give up on you, but he can only do so much. You can’t tell me you’re happy being half conscious at a party where you hardly know anyone?”

It was official, Lara sucked at pep talks.

Mikasa looked up, her eyes glazed over.

“It just helps me forget…”

Lara didn’t have an answer for that. It was just understandable. She continued to sit next to her and made sure she stayed conscious.

Eren was angrier than a bull when he pulled up to the house. He’d been trying to get a hold of Mikasa all night. They had a small argument earlier and Eren wanted to make it up to her by bringing pizza and her favorite movies.

Only to find that she wasn’t home.

She ignored his calls. By the time Lara called, he was halfway to an anxiety attack.

He was relieved that she was alive but he was pissed. So very, very pissed. She promised him that she would stop. She promised him that she would at least try. More than her though, he was pissed at himself.

He pushed his way through the crowd of wasted idiots.

“Hey Jaeger!” someone called out but he didn’t bother looking. He was here to take Mikasa home. That was all.

He knocked on the bathroom door and he heard some shifting and whispering. He impatiently jiggled the doorknob, only for Lara to open the door. She looked tired and a little sad, if he was being honest.

But when he saw Mikasa lying on the ground, barely conscious and drunk out of her mind, he wanted to cry. The beautiful center of his entire universe, his love, his home just lay there. He was still pissed but the anger washed away into overwhelming sadness and concern.

“Is she…?”

Lara shook her head, “I kept her awake. She needs water and some food though.”

He crouched down. Her eyes were glassy and when she looked up at him, there was no light whatsoever. It killed him just a little more.

“Mikasa?” he asked, softly. “Can you hear me?”

He almost didn’t hear her ‘yeah.’

It was too much so he gathered her into his arms. She was frighteningly light.

He was about to walk out but before he did, he peeked over his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Lara nodded, giving him one of those small smiles, “Take care of her, Jaeger. But take care of yourself too.”

Whatever that meant.

He was entirely unconcerned by the looks he was given as he exited the party, Mikasa safely in his arms.

He pulled out and it was any wonder that he was able to drive because his tears clouded his vision the entire way through.

#ficlet #high school reincarnation au #eremika

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skypied · 3 years ago

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Hello Pie, would you be open to sharing your writing process as well as possibly giving some tips on how to find a good name for your fics? I can't title my works for shit & am curious about how other writers go about creating fanfic in general. Thank you!! (ps if your hits to kudos ratio on "make me crescendo" is fucked it's because I can't stop coming back to it <3333) (pps you enthusiasm for the Luca fandom gives me life & I appreciate it very much :^)

Bold of you to assume I know anything ahah <3 Readmore bc I can't be brief

Titling, well, mostly I've used snippets from songs I like (10 out of 16 fics on my ao3 are song lyrics, lol, but I might've stopped crediting them). Mostly for smut, because those usually don't have any interesting themes to draw title inspiration from, so I tend to use songs I listened to a lot around the period I wrote it, songs with a similar theme, or just lines I like and feel fit well enough.

For the things I have titled myself, I either just pull a line from the fic (potentially shortening it a little to suit better), or try to think about what the themes in it are, and just... brainstorm? I usually go through a couple of ideas, but it usually just clicks when I've found the right one. I still think it's difficult, but I try to trust that gut feeling and that my opinion is correct. In my experience it comes easier with practice!!

As for writing process, god I barely know. I used to just write freely bc the inspiration/motivation was so strong I'd be clawing on the walls if I didn't write haha, but lately self consciousness and anxiety has taken over. Lately it's almost a chore (emphasis on almost) - literally every word is forced out through screaming at myself that everything I write is stupid, tbh.. It's like, it is fun and rewarding, but I have to somewhat force myself to do it? Idk, especially writing is such a fine line between pure fun and work. Now that the motivation and fun has waned a little, I turn to discipline and force myself to write a little every day.I can usually write something, but I often have to work to get into the headspace.

I try having some rules/boundaries/routines around writing - separating my apartment into different zones for different things (especially since I frequently work from home). I tend to, before sitting down to write, do 5-15 minutes of chores and/or preparing a cup of tea, a snack, or something - just to make my head and the space around me to feel a little clearer.

I also try to block my time into smaller chunks, because if I just have a vague plan to "write as much as I can this evening", I end up wasting a lot of it procrastinating. I get a lot more done if I block off time for it, and I've learned to force myself to not write for too long without break. Instead of spending 90% of my free time in front of the computer intending to write, I block it up. Even if it's just "1 hour writing, 15-30 minutes for making dinner/chores/something, then another hour of writing", it helps me stay focused. I've been thinking of trying doing some writing sprints - where you set a timer and write as much as you can in that period, I think 15 minutes is most common?

I often struggle to actually start, or get to the point where writing comes freely. What I often do is go back and read something, preferably from what I'm working on to remind myself there are things in this I like, and I want to make progress on it. But important for me at least is to not reread the same thing too much and coming to resent it. I'm blessed/cursed with having something like 150-170k of wips in my drive and being able to rotate what I read though lollll.

I'm also working on not being too precious with my writing, not being overly perfectionist and being open to sharing unfinished (and sometimes frankly stupid) things. I've never been more productive since I started co-writing and having a low threshold to share unfinished things, sometimes even like - "I'm not sure this is anything, wanna look??". (I'm also very lucky to have found someone absolutely wonderful who's very enthusiastic and supportive though<3)

At least for me, writing is very personal and challenges my own self-perception and can often tamper with my emotions, so despite a lot of forcing discipline, I also try to be gentle with myself. I had a weekend not too long where I wrote like, 12 hours in a day, and became so burnt out and demotivated I felt really down and stressed for at least a week and hated the fic so much I couldn't finish it myself. I think thinking of it as despite being fun, it's work and a toll on your brain, and you need to rest. Just like how I need to decompress after a work day, I need to do so after writing. Other times, I work through emotions by writing. Last time I wrote angst was a direct consequence of attending a work dinner that was terrible and made me extremely anxious, haha.

Honestly I think the writing process is something you kind of have to figure out what works for you as you go through it!

also ty for just, nice words, I don’t feel like I’ve been particularly enthusiastic about this fandom, at least publicly, and some of the manic energy I had getting into the fandom has waned, but I do love this fandom dearly and I’m glad it can give you something! <3

#skypieposts #apologies if incoherent i wrote a lot of this drunk #n apologies for getting personal I Don't Know How Not To

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taechaos · 3 years ago

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Little Secret

pairing: step-dad!Jungkook x fem!Reader

synopsis: From a fun celebration to not getting to the bathroom on time, you pee yourself in the middle of the living room and your step-dad has to take care of you.

warnings: smut, pseudo-incest, urine, fingering in tub, dubcon

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is the disgusting fic i was talking about 🥰 not proofread, just smth i wrote in one day for fun. enjoy as long as u dont hate piss lol 😔👍

It's a night of celebration—the end of high school. It's the best celebration yet because you, after surviving hell of twelve years, are at the legal age to drink in a bar with your friends; the best night you can recall in your drunken state. Dancing, singing karaoke, giggling: pure joy.

So why are you crying while stumbling around in the living room? You sob and hiccup with a hand over your face and the other holding the couch for support. It has never been so difficult to stand straight, and you're thankful your mother's sleep is so heavy that she wouldn't wake up from your wails.

But your step-dad's sleep is as light as a cat's, and you don't hear his heavy footsteps or grumbles as he climbs down the stairs. He rubs the sleep away from his eyes and they widen the moment they lay on you. He's about to call your name until his eyes trail down to the dark patch on your jeans. He doesn't need to ask why you're crying so loudly; it's easy to tell you're under the influence, and well, it apparently makes you very emotional since you're so upset about peeing your pants.

But you're not exactly doing anything about it.

"Oh, it's okay," Jungkook coos and walks over to you to bring you into a light hug.

You snuggle your face into his loose white shirt and sniffle. "I didn't– I didn't mean to," you snivel. "I-I couldn't get to the," you inhale shakily, "b-bathroom on time."

"That's okay," he runs his fingers through your hair soothingly, equally disheveled as his. "Don't cry, sweetheart. It happens; it's not a big deal. We'll get you cleaned up."

"I-I ruined it!"

"The washing machine—"

"No," you whimper pathetically, "it's ruined. My denim—" your head rolls back along with your eyes to the back of your skull. You go limp for a few seconds, and Jungkook holds you tightly. Just as he's about to ask you if you're alright, you continue, "the denim is forever ruined!"

Stepping away from his clutches, you rub your palms against the knees of your jeans and then the damp crotch area. The crotch and knees feel different; it makes your face scrunch up in sorrow. "Never the same," you exhale in a trembling voice.

Jungkook watches you in surprise and amusement. You tend to be closed off around him, well in the past year that he's been married to your mother at least. It makes him feel guilty to like you better drunk—extroverted.

"We'll get you new jeans then," he tries to comfort, but you only shake your head.

"Feel it."

He sighs with a breathy chuckle and feels your jeans as you asked. He touches your pockets and then your crotch, practically cupping your heat. It's still warm with your urine and you pout at the look he gives you. You misinterpret it as disappointment, but it's a look of suppressing laughter. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. I'll wash it, okay? Your mother won't know."

You scoff and wipe your tears away. "Thank you. I-I'm very sorry, so sorry."

"Don't be. Let's go to your room," he slings his arm around your shoulder and walks you upstairs. You hold onto his waist and keep your gaze downcast.

Your hiccups don't cease when you face the door of your bedroom. He twists the doorknob and lets you enter first. With puckered lips and tear stains on your face, you wait for him to come after you. He does, and then turns away from you. "Hand your jeans over to me, okay? I won't look."

He hears you shuffling behind him, and you don't take long to place the tainted pants in his waiting open palm. Your feet don't stay planted on the floor and you eventually land on your bed. The bathroom is right behind you, but you can't muster the energy to sit up nor open your eyes. "My underwear," you mumble with the side of your face squished against the sheets.

At your indirect request, he cranes his neck and takes a peek at you. You're lying on your stomach and his eyes unintentionally travel to your ass. For being your step-dad, he thinks it to be okay for him to drink in this erotic sight. It isn't as if he's about to take advantage of a drunk girl, no less his step-daughter.

"You can't take them off?"

"Mm-mm," you shake your head.

He blows out a deep breath and stands before your feet. The sight of your wet panties isn't meant to be attractive, but it does get his stomach in knots. He grabs the edges of your underwear and asks you to lift your hips, which you do sluggishly. They're off within seconds and he picks up your jeans from the floor before aiming to exit. He has to get out and cleanse his mind of all his filthy thoughts from seeing your bare pussy two inches from his mouth. "Don't fall asleep before taking a shower first," he reminds with flushed cheeks and pushes the door open.

"Help me," you whine childishly before he can leave.

He sighs your name as if exhausted—reluctant.

"Please!"

As if it's not bad enough that he got a small glimpse of your pussy, now you're asking him to give you a shower while completely naked. He's trying to be respectful by keeping his focal point at bay, but your ass is still hanging out while you're on the verge of a tantrum.

"Oh God," he mutters to himself and pinches the bridge of his nose. He gives in.

After throwing your dirty clothes in the washing machine downstairs, he returns quickly so he doesn't catch you fast asleep. Thankfully you're still awake, but not so alert.

He warns you to keep your eyes open while he fills the tub in your bathroom. There's a water bottle on your bedside table, which he tells you to drink lots from until he's back. He throws in a pink bath bomb sitting on the edge of your tub so you can hopefully relax. Never has he seen someone be in such a childlike headspace after drinking.

But childlike doesn't fit the current scenario when he's lying under your naked body in his boxers in the bathtub because you seem to be a lot clingier when drunk. You don't move a lot, which is a plus, but your butt is pressed against his crotch, which doesn't make the situation any better.

"I'm sorry," you slur sleepily, "I really didn't mean to." He can pick up the strong scent of vodka lingering around you better in this position.

He tightens his arms around your shoulders with his hands clasped above your chest as he whispers, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. You won't remember this when you wake up, and I'll keep it a secret. Don't you worry about a thing."

"Why are you crying?" he asks softly when you start to sob again. It's a dry cry, and he's certain you don't know what you're doing yourself at this point.

"I can't do anything," you complain, "I'm so tired and-and I can't move."

He stays silent so you can comfortably babble on and on about nothing until you say, "Wash me. Please."

Jungkook lightly pecks your neck and eyes your tits before dipping his hands in the warm, pinkish water and scrubbing your shoulders. You sigh at his gentle touch, prompting him to switch to your knees. "My knees are not dirty," you grumble incoherently.

"Hm? You're not dirty?"

"I'm not dirty there."

"And you're dirty where?" He's teasing you, knowing exactly where you want to be cleaned, but that'd further agonize him with how little freedom his erection has under the tight restraints of his briefs. It wouldn't be appropriate of him to use you to get rid of it, but is it against the law to simply bathe you?

"Down," you vaguely murmur.

He can't see anything of your lower region from the courtesy of the blanket of colorful hue that the bath bomb transitioned to, which both annoys and relieves Jungkook. But his hand only listens to you as it trails down to your pelvis. "Here?"

You nod against his shoulder, and that's all the confirmation he needs to palm your vulva. You gasp and slightly jump before adjusting to the feeling of his hand. The adjustment proves to be futile when a small moan slips past your lips at his fingers grazing your labia.

“You want me to stop?”

“No, no,” you breathe with a shake of your head. “I want to be clean, otherwise no sleep.”

“That’s right,” he chuckles and starts running his fingers down your folds. Stopping at your clit, he starts to circle the hood to thoroughly give you the cleaning you desire so much. It isn’t with any ill intentions that he gently cups your pussy and moves it up and down while you squeak out moans without shame. After a few rubs and touches, he's confident there is no more remaints of your drunk mistake. “You’re clean now, love. Want to go to bed?”

“I’m not,” you whine loudly and hold his wrist to keep his hand in place. “I’m not clean,” you cry out and he knows you’re going to start sobbing again, which you do—except your volume might risk waking your mother.

He tries to hush you, but you don’t stop with the crocodile tears. “Baby, baby, look at me,” he pulls your face by your chin, but you escape his grip easily and continue with your tantrum. “I won’t clean you if you don’t look at me.”

With your newfound defiant attitude, it's with a few huffs and puffs that you finally face him and he silences your sniveling with a press of his lips. It's not a kiss in his defence; neither of you are moving your mouths, which he appreciates now that you've gone quiet.

Now that the risk of your mother waking is taken care of, his hand is on your hidden heat again. At this point, it's easy to tell you're not worried about being clean anymore. You aren't sleepy, though you keep your eyes closed from being in this intimate proximity with Jungkook, you're in need of a climax. It's a shame that he's in a similar state as you, but if you're drunk to the point of asking your step-dad to touch you, it wouldn't be clever of him to ask you to return the favor.

Despite his clear lack of vision, Jungkook is a human anatomy professor and he finds your clit and squeezes it between two fingers easily, not to mention he's already experienced in the sex field. Your lips part into a whine and he opens his mouth to swallow your sounds as he slowly rubs your clit.

You lean into the—now labelled as—kiss needily, and he lowers his hand to poke at your entrance with his middle finger. He stupidly peeks an eye open to see if he's located it correctly, but your subtle thrust is approval enough. He cautiously shoves it inside your tightness and uses his palm to continue pleasuring your sensitive nub, grabbing your tit with his other hand to play with your nipple.

"Oh God, hmmm," you moan against his lips and sloppily make out with him, smearing your slick saliva all over. He hums into you, unbothered by your raw affection as he thrusts his finger inside and pinches your nipple to get you to cum faster. He can't have you sobering up any time soon.

"Are you close, love?"

You murmur something in response, but it's not intelligible enough for him to understand, so he assumes you're at least getting somewhere. He quickens the pace of his thrusts, his palm against your clitoris; massages your boob more roughly and moves his mouth down to kiss your neck. As he's giving you a small love bite, your breathing turns into mere gasps with little broken moans. If he could, he would add a second finger to your pussy, but your clenching hole doesn't feel so ready when he curls his knuckle.

You clutch onto his hair, chanting, "I'm gonna pee again, I'm gonna pee again…"

"Try to hold it in, baby," he cuts in hoarsely without ceasing his movements. He does slow down when your legs start to shake and tremble, splashing the water as you do as he leaves calming pecks on your neck, collarbone, and a few on your lips. Not as a warning to lower your voice—your last moans are ones to savour—but to ride out your high. He has no idea if you did squirt in the tub, but he isn't going to take another shower to wash it down. He wants to feel it on his skin.

He can feel your pounding heartbeat under his hand as your body spasms and grinds on his erection. A moment of silence passes with your shaky inhales and exhales while he pets your hair.

When he feels you calm down, he asks, "Do you feel clean now?"

"Bed."

"Alright," he whispers and kisses your cheek. Your eyes are closed and he predicts you'll be fainting soon, so he pulls the plug with ease and waits for the water to drain before pulling you up by your pits. It's a bit of a struggle because of your slippery wet skin, as well as the water weight on you, but manages to get you out and immediately throws you on the bed. He grabs a towel hanging on the bathroom door and dries you before himself.

Jungkook considers himself an honorable man most of the time, but he can't refrain from jerking off to your naked body while you doze off. Like he said, you won't remember a thing, so it'll be his little secret as he releases on your tits with a groan. He wipes off the evidence of his unorthodox actions, pecks you and your pretty little pussy before dressing you in your pajamas.

He puts on his clothes and tucks you in before leaving your room with a quiet, "Good night, sweetheart."

All there's left to do is persuade you into doing this again while sober, because he didn't marry your wretched bitch of a mother after two months of meeting if not to have you all for himself. He doesn't mind letting you in on that one secret with time.

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts fic #jjk smut #thekpopnetwork #networkbangtan #kpop smut #jeon jungkook smut

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lostinforeverness · 4 years ago

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Everything I meant

You’ll never ever ever see this; you won’t read it, you won’t think about it, you won’t care about it or mull it over or assault it. So I can say everything, all that I ever meant to.

The timeline is incoherent, ironically. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, I just have a load of junk and hearts.

1) You were hands down my favourite sexual partner ever, and I’m unlikely to ever find anyone as good. I’m coming to terms with that.

2) I used to tremble at night because I knew I couldn’t pleasure you, and threw up a few times at the thought of what that might make you do. I just wanted to be better, so I used to speak to you about it, like a grown up - you told me it didn’t matter, and I knew you were lying.

3) I believe that you truly loved me; I believe that you felt truly loved and adored BY me, but you had no idea what to do with all of those roses. You were neither prepared nor comfortable with it, right?

4) You were the only person I could reveal my tortured soul to.

5) You were the only person who could ever torture my soul by simply being absent.

6) Your family intimidated me, I’m not sure why - maybe because they seemed so stable and comfortable, which may have been their coping mechanism for dealing with past hardships. All I know is, it made me feel so unworthy for being so broken.

7) I knew you had cheated on me long before you told me. I could feel it, sense it, smell it. I used to cry rivers while I wondered how you’d tell me; how pathetic.

8) I hated it when he brought you gifts at work.

9) I hated it when he’d pick you up from work.

10) I hated it when you showed off your engagement ring at work.

11) I hated him, and he hadn’t even hurt me. I felt like a monster.

12) I cried out your name whilst screwing 3 different women, on separate occasions. I only got called out on it once, which I thought was kinda weird.

13) I hated that I was your emotional cushion, but you still preferred his cock. I felt like I had to escape from that, the image used to keep me awake at night.

14) I used to tell everyone that we loved each other, that you were having a rough patch, but it was only a matter of time. They told me to stop being stupid.

15) My friends wrote me genuine, hand-written apologies when you came back.

16) When you left again, they rolled their eyes and reverted to type.

17) I only went to see you at the restaurant, where you and big dick worked together, because I wanted you to remember that you loved me. I’m not sure if it ever worked.

18) I bought the ring because I wanted to propose to you; I’d never been so sure of anything in my life.

19) I still have the ring. It’s engraved, and so worthless

20) When I spent all my money on gambling, booze, and drugs, I contemplated selling the ring. I remembered it was worthless and opted not to.

21) I wanted to raise the coolest motherfucking kids on the planet, I wanted to do so with you by my side.

22) When you said you had been pregnant, and lost it, my heart was overwhelmed with both sadness and joy. You told me it was impossible, and I had resigned to it; suddenly there was such possibility, and yet such overbearing heartbreak.

23) When I wanted you to watch Love Actually, it was because I believe in true love, and I believed we truly loved each other - I actually thought having you watch a goofy film might have made you pick up on it too.

24) I never understood why you wouldn’t leave your fiancee for me.

25) I never had the courage to ask.

26) I left my first job because i couldn’t handle anymore the reality of loving you so much and you seeming not to care. I spoke to my doctor at the time about the stress this was causing.

27) Since you came back into my life, I have never once slept in the bed without you being present.

28) I’ve fucked people in the bed, but I’d sleep downstairs instead.

29) Being alone on a couch is easier than being alone on a bed.

30) I didn’t like that you’d put a bit of weight on, but you seemed intent on pizza and wine, so I thought it better not to say much about it.

31) It kind of turned me off, honestly. Until we actually got to it, then I remembered how great you were in bed, and I got over it. (cause it’s the type of thing that only matters ‘physically’)

32) One night, I climbed on that garage roof next to the White Lion. I stayed there for like 6 whole hours. I watched you from afar, there were lots of reasons why:

32A) I wanted to see if you looked like you missed me.

32B) I wanted to see if he would turn up.

32C) I wanted to see if you would leave for his house.

32D) I wanted to see if you were happy, so that I could hate you if you were, to give my brokenness some kind of legitimacy.

33) I felt terrible about it and like I’d done a really awful, creepy thing. I had.

34) I left you to have my house key because I thought you were coming back.

35) The night I came to collect it, I had been drinking heavily - I saw you and he were back together, and I cried all the way to your house.

36) When you didn’t answer my calls and texts that night, I thought you had some weird kind of vendetta against me, that it was your way of getting back at me.

37) My favourite holiday ever was the one we had together.

38) I hated the last part of that holiday, when it became clear you didn’t want sex with me and were desperate to fall out with me. I now know that’s because you’d already cheated and hate yourself, but I couldn’t understand at the time why it felt like you hated ME.

39) I love you.

40) I like you.

41) I love your company.

42) I love being serious with you.

43) I love being silly with you.

44) I miss you every day.

45) I love you.

46) I love your style, I love your attitude.

47) I love you.

48) I never felt worthy of you; you’re kickass, and you’re a straight up babe - I’m a loser with stained teeth, no future, and bad habits.

49) I begged every night that you’d forgive me for being shit in bed.

50) I wanted to spend time through the day with you more cause I felt like I sucked at being your nighttime companion.

51) I considered asking if you wanted me to watch other men fuck you because I couldn’t do it right. I decided against it.

52) I love the way you are with strangers.

53) I love the way you were with Lily.

54) I love the way you were with my mum.

55) You always seemed to know what to say.

56) I hated you being drunk when I wasn’t. Usually, the reason was that I was skint, but I didn’t want to tell you that; I already considered myself a bottom-dwelling male who didn’t deserve you, I didn’t need more of it to deal with in my head. So I just pretended i didn’t want a drink. I wanted to get pissed and have fun with you, just like we always had. But I’m always skint.

57) I wanted to see all the really cool places in the world with you, places nobody else would ever bother going to with me - Peru, India, New Zealand. I don’t know how I intended to pay for it.

58) I still love you.

59) I still miss you.

60) I used to dream about our little baby, and what might have been.

61) In the dreams, we were fucking great parents. You never listened to your parents, and I never listened to mine - instead, we raised them in our own way, and it was the most beautiful glorious thing ever.

62) The kid always loved you more than me. I don’t know if that means anything.

63) I forgave you for everything.

64) I didn’t know how to forgive you and also make you realise how hurt I HAD been.

65) I see now that your drinking and abuse was your guilt. At the time, I thought it was you pretending that nothing was wrong, and I felt violated.

66) I regret not sweeping you off your feet sooner.

67) I also felt incapable.

68) I just want to spend some time with you, watch a stupid movie, go for a stupid long walk, smoke some stupid cigarettes, have embarrassing stupid sex, and hear your stupid laugh.

69) I told all my family in Ireland about you, how much I loved you. They still ask me about you, which is why I haven’t spoken to them - I don’t know how to explain to them that such powerful amazing love could end in such failure.

70) I feel like a massive failure.

71) I don’t know what it is about me that could make you love me.

72) Yet I do believe you love me. It’s really weird.

73) I just wish we could go back in time, be simple again, and work our way up from there.

74) We’d have a house and a family by now, our own space, our own freedom, our own life.

75) I fucked up just as much as you did, and I never knew how to get that across.

I just want you back in my life again. I want to hold you, laugh with you, travel with you, feel you, fuck you.

I’m resigned to the fact that I can’t do any of that, or have any of that. And it will never feel okay, it will always feel like a huge, unnecessary, depressing failure.

I’m so sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed me to be. But hear me, honestly - I’m still fucking desperate to be him. But I can’t be, can I?

I’m just not good enough.

Not good enough.

Not enough.

Not.

#kellston #junkofhearts #regret #i miss it #i miss them #i miss you

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seyaryminamoto · 5 years ago

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Hello, another anon. I read 123 and was taken aback by the bad memories. But it surpsised me to see that Sokka still feel bad about it. It was wrong but to me Sokka never was the guy who would just sleep around just to have fun and show "manliness" with everyone. With a strenger especially. Or would he? Imean you know him better of course:). But that situation was completely different he couldn't even think straight. Poor guy still feels bad. What do you think about his act back then?

As a writer, as much backlash as that particular decision has garnered me, I stand by it to this day and I see no reason not to: Sokka, at the time, isn’t in the right state of mind, like you said, and his feelings for Azula aren’t yet at the stage where he truly loves her, not as he does after all the ordeals they face together later in the story. He does have feelings for her, is very much attracted to her, but he hardly knows her properly at the time: he thinks she’s manipulating him, playing with his feelings to her benefit, pretty much. And in a rebellious bout, like many of those we see from him through the story, Sokka decides he won’t let her walk all over him anymore.

This, of course, backfires because Azula is actually far more human, and way more attached to him, than he knew. His remorse for his mistakes is genuine, and pretty much everlasting because, in a reckless bid to protect himself from her, he ended up hurting her far more with his actions than she hurt him with that spiteful comment after their first kiss (which is what drives him to think she was just messing with his head). So yep, up until chapter 123, Sokka is still regretting what he did, even though Azula doesn’t even hold it against him anymore by then. He hates having hurt her, for he knows he misjudged her and jumped to the wrong conclusions about Azula without giving her a chance to explain herself, without offering her the benefit of the doubt if just for a moment. The more he grew to love her in later chapters, and the more he understood her as their bond deepened, the more he hated himself for having hurt her when he did. Therefore, at the point where you’re at, where it’s safe to say he knows her better than anyone, he is all the more unforgiving of himself because he genuinely loves her now, willingly, with eyes open, completely aware of who she is and what’s in her heart, and he trusts her with his life. He’s all the more protective of her now and truly hates that he hurt her so badly when he did, despite even Azula thinks he ought to be more forgiving with himself.

Now, though... one thing I do want to say, that I think some of the people who are bothered by this situation kind of have glossed over before, is that Sokka actually isn’t 100% in control of the situation in the pub. For starters, he may not be drunk to the point of incoherence but he’s not of the soundest mind either. He’s also still really angry and bitter about how things went down with Azula, and mixing that with the drunkenness couldn’t possibly yield a positive result. Furthermore, and I’d say most importantly... June wasn’t just some eyelash-batting fangirl like Hina who was starstruck by Sokka: June saw a guy who didn’t look completely repulsive, talked to him about his problems and offered a solution for him that she made the most of.

My point is... June was the instigator, not Sokka. June has agency of her own as a character, and she is responsible for what happened just as much as Sokka is. Hadn’t June showed up when she did, talked with him and suggested her twisted idea, Sokka wouldn’t have been likely to sleep with anyone at all that night. Would this have been better? Possibly. But what June did was poised with one very specific, even outright-stated-on-text purpose in mind: for Sokka to unleash his frustrations and, if it didn’t work (which, let’s not forget, it didn’t), for him to start wrapping his head around the fact that he might be in love with a woman he didn’t want to be in love with. Without June’s meddling, some of the heartache wouldn’t be quite so painful and there’s no denying that. But without it, Sokka probably would have refused to accept he had feelings for Azula, he might not have confronted her that night and even if he did, the outcome might not have been the same: there’s a chance he wouldn’t have grown to understand her any better, that he would have taken even LONGER than he did to realize Azula wasn’t just messing around with him, that she actually cared about him. And if it feels the story is already ridiculously long, just imagine how much longer it could have been if he had spent longer than two chapters refusing to understand that Azula actually wanted him the same way he wanted her :’)

Point being, there was a storytelling purpose to this development. And it wasn’t a pretty development, why lie, but it was, I believe, a necessary one considering the circumstances of Azula and Sokka’s partnership: they did start out as enemies. They were reluctant allies working together with their own agendas later on. They probably wouldn’t even have thought of each other as friends even at their early scene together in chapter 26. There was very little trust between them -- Sokka especially distrusted Azula --, and they hadn’t learned enough about each other, they didn’t understand each other enough yet, to have a decent relationship with each other. While this was a harsh setback to their partnership, it’s ironically also a way to kickstart it: at chapter 30, after Azula breaks down in tears in his arms, Sokka FINALLY gets it: she wasn’t messing around, she genuinely was interested in him romantically. And after this, he changes. After this, he’s no longer as merciless towards Azula as he was before. He no longer judges her so harshly, and he makes efforts to understand her. Why? Because of everything I’ve said up here :D

So... “Sokka never was the guy who would just sleep around just to have fun and show "manliness" with everyone”? Why, no, I wouldn’t think he would be that kind of guy, and that’s not how the story ever portrayed him either. Some people may have that interpretation of him, but I, personally, don’t. And I’d think Gladiator should speak for itself, it’s certainly on me if it doesn’t, but to put matters into perspective, if I had been writing Sokka as the kind of guy you described up there, he wouldn’t have been so horrified in the aftermath of his encounter with June in chapter 28. I don’t know if I failed to portray it right, but all along, the idea was to show that he didn’t enjoy what happened between them at all, to the point where June was even exasperated over his apologies and remorse (I even talked about how Gladiator!Sokka hadn’t ever truly enjoyed sex until he had it with Azula on this other ask, which I answered recently).

As for showing off what he’d done as if it were a sign of “manliness”, well, if he thought sleeping around was a badge of honor, he probably would have boasted about it at some point through the almost-100 chapters between the big debacle and the chapter you’re on right now. Heck, he probably would have flirted with every woman in sight and tried to sleep with them without a care in the world if he was the kind of guy who thinks sleeping around makes him a manlier man. Instead, he only feels guilt, remorse and shame for what he did. He takes zero pride in his actions that day and constantly talks about it as one of his biggest mistakes. Once they ran into June in the arc you’re on, he kept falling silent and deferring to Azula’s judgment in every regard except for when it came to her threats to “torture” Jeong Jeong’s goons, because he believed that if she still felt any resentment towards him over their crisis with June, it was warranted and no less than he deserved (despite, as is revealed later, Azula was blowing matters out of proportion for more complicated reasons than Sokka realized at first). Does that sound like a guy who’s proud of his actions, who thinks it reasserts his masculinity somehow to have gotten involved with someone on a very questionable whim...? I honestly hope it doesn’t.

Now, as the one-track-mind shipper I am...? You can bet I absolutely didn’t enjoy writing that scene, not in the least. Ironically, Sokka’s trick to keep going (imagining June was Azula) was also my trick to keep going: the reason that scene’s writing was ambiguous, as though he were having some sort of hate-sex session with Azula when it’s NOT her, was because it was the only way I could get through the scene at all. So, as a writer, I stand by what I wrote. As a fangirl with too many feels, I hate the scene despite understanding why it was necessary :’) I don’t think I’d ever admitted that before, but it’s the truth. Part of a writer’s job includes working with elements and situations in a story that you might not be comfortable with, that you absolutely wouldn’t condone or approve of (I mean... slavery in general?? I write about it, doesn’t mean I support it in any capacity even if I think it’s believable for Ozai’s Fire Nation to enslave people...), but that are part of the story nonetheless.

Storytelling can be done for fluffy and happy reasons exclusively, and there’s a lot of fics that are like that, but Gladiator is a fic with a huge plot comprised by a ton of tinier plot threads, dealing with serious subjects and themes of many sorts. And if I’m going to do it justice, I can’t shy away from the darkness of my characters, the terrible mistakes they can make or the hard-earned redemption they can obtain after working their asses off to amend them. Azula’s decision to turn Sokka into a slave could be judged just as harshly as Sokka’s mistakes have been judged by many readers, and she should be condemned for it on the same capacity, if not more so: there’d be no story altogether if she hadn’t made this mistake, however. They both have wronged each other, it’s the truth, but they have done their damnedest to atone for their actions once they truly understood how wrong they were.

I don’t think highly of myself as a writer these days, haven’t in ages, but I know I’d think even less of myself if I only ever played it safe and stuck to the storytelling beats everyone demands and expects from stories. The majority of Part 2 is, in fact, a gamble I silently made with Gladiator’s readerbase to find out what would happen if I didn’t simply fall into the typical structure expected from stories like mine. What if I actually show my readers what a solid, healthy, strong relationship between Azula and Sokka works like in practice, instead of immediately resorting to tearing them apart barely a few chapters after they got together for conflict’s sake?

... Of course, that particular experiment didn’t have an unanimous result either, and just like chapter 28, I may have alienated thousands of people by making the creative decision I did for the entirety of Part 2. And yet the story, in my personal opinion, wouldn’t be half of what it is if I’d made a different choice! Sooo... *shrug* what can I tell ya, Anon. Writing is hard. Writing means making tough choices your readers won’t understand sometimes. Writing means making yourself cry happy/sad tears at 2 AM because you nearly killed half of your OTP and it’s tearing you to shreds deep inside :’D and while I categorically refuse to say I’ve made all the right choices for Gladiator, I think the story would be infinitely lesser than it is if I wasn’t willing to give my characters hardships and complications they can learn to overcome, no matter how painful they might be.

(Otherwise, heh, there would be no Part 3, soooo...)

#anon #gladiator chapter 123 #if anyone needs a read more for this let me know #I am posting it hella late in the night so #I'd assume your dashboards will have plenty of other things and my long-ass answer won't be too much trouble (?)#... but who knows #so yep let me know :'D #... and yeah I mean that about Part 3 #I really do #if I were to simply write happy things and cut all the uncomfortable and painful things from Gladiator #heh #simply put there would be no conclusion for it #because things aren't going to be pretty by part 3 #not in the least #and if backlash still scared me I'd probably consider chopping the story short at the end of Part 2 X'D #but wow would that be the cringiest cop-out #so whatever readers I have left by then #sorry but you're all gonna go down a pretty nasty lane with me #:'D

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sweaterkittensahoy · 7 years ago

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DVD commentary meme! Sorority House; Chaos Demons, the passage starting at "FIGHT!" through "the incantation followed instantly". And/or Miracle in Finals Week, "Wow, that worked." through the end. (And wow was it hard to limit myself to 500-word passages. I WANT TO KNOW ALL THE THINGS! :D )

Sorority story:

“FIGHT!”

Hazel turned on her heel as the threads snapped, releasing the energy in a cloud. (When threads snap, they explode like spores from a mushroom. They get on EVERYTHING, and if you’re a Blue Stone and have breathing issues, they can get you pretty good.) There were three women in the center of the room, all of them in Alpha Chi T-shirts and white shorts (wardrobe based on a former college roommate headed out to sorority stuff; she was great). They were facing off, all of them with their hands up like they really knew how to fight. (As a scrapper with the soul of a brawler, I enjoy writing women about to fuck each other up with fists rather than hair-pulling; not that hair-pulling is a bad tactic. I just like to have them go fists first.)

"Fuck," (there’s a long-running joke that any time you swear, Auntie Tessa flinches at The House) Hazel breathed and pushed her way through the tightening crowd. She squeezed between a gaggle of screaming women cheering incoherently. One of them dumped half of cup of Sunshine (Sunshine is orange Kool-aid and any liquor that is cheap. It tastes like death, and Alpha Chis drink it like water.) down Hazel's back.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" The woman said, trying with the overcoordination of the drunk to wipe the drink off Hazel. (You have not experience dunbridled kindness until a drunk woman has tried to clean you up from the drink she spilled.)

"I'm fine," Hazel said. She batted as the woman kept trying to help and kept apologizing. "It's fine!" Hazel yelled (she didn’t want to, but crisis) as the volume in the room went up. The fight was starting, no doubt. She had to get to the front of crowd, get a line of sight on whoever was controlling this.

"It's such a nice shirt!" the woman wailed.

"It's so cute!" One of her friends added, clearly oblivious to why the conversation was even happening. (Drunk ladies will always tell you you are fabulous. Always.)

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry Hazel thought as she touched them both on the wrists and froze them in place for two seconds so she could get away. (This spell is not to be used lightly as it violates a person’s right to free movement. Three-way punch outs are an acceptable reason to put it into play.) She hated doing that to people. It left them disoriented and sometimes made them sick, (in this case, the ladies attributed the reaction to too much Sunshine) but the cheers were getting louder, and the energy in the room was building outward. Too much pressure, and something was going to come tumbling down. (You get enough power in a place that’s not used to it, you can collapse a house. Chaos demons aren’t usually that destructive, but this is a special case.)

The three women were on each other hard when Hazel broke to the front. They were punching and kicking, hair-pulling only as a way to control each other's movements. (like I said, I am not against hair-pulling.) There was already blood on the floor. Blood and energy were a bad mix. (Is this the moment I realized the end game of the chaos demon fuckery and realized I needed to write a novella? MAYBE.)

Hazel tracked the room. Screaming drunk. Screaming drunk. Laughing drunk. Filming drunk. Two guys backwards snap backs (ugh, I typoed. Should have been Two guys in...), pastel shorts, and open (should have been a comma at open) white button downs simply watching and grinning. (I would like to thank Ngozi of Check, Please for reminding me dudebros love pastels.)

"Goddamn chaos demons," Hazel hissed and cut across the room. One of them saw her coming, saw the stone around her neck, and yelped. The other followed his gaze and paled. (Chaos demons are a super standard issue for Blue Stones. Think of them as those people who will talk during a movie. Usually low-level annoying but fucking everywhere.)

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The first one screamed. No one noticed.

"Um. Shit. Uh." The second one stammered, then he looked at the center of the room, and his pupils turned to slits. "Hey, ladies! This woman just grabbed my ass!" (Chaos demons are total dicks.)

Hazel was tackled before she could even turn fully around. She felt a punch to her kidneys, shook off someone trying to twist back her arm, and was grateful she'd kept her hair up in its lazy bun as one of them went to grab her hair. She managed to curl herself into a defensive ball and clasp her hands together. Before she could get out the incantation, someone kicked her in the back ribs. "Shit!" She screamed, and the incantation followed instantly. (Blue Stones get extensive self defense training, which is how Hazel manages to escape the worst of it before rolling into a ball. And, yeah, that asshole broke her rib. And as someone who has broken a rib, lemme tell you, it fucking hurts.)

Finals Week:

"Wow, that worked." (Hazel honestly wasn’t sure it would. She was guessing based on the idea of how Gretel can fade out in a mist, which means each particle of Gretel would carry a bit of magic, right? Right.)

Gretel smiled. "Excellent! Do you think it'll work for the other sections?" (Gretel LOVES helping with stuff like this. Being a ghost, she can’t learn full magic like the Blue Stones, but she wishes she could.)

"I can't imagine why not." Hazel lifted her wand to drop the hiding spell, paused, and sighed hugely. "Shit. I'm going to have to write that down for the Aunties. They never taught us you as a magical conduit, or ghosts at all." (There’s more than one ghost who works with the Blue Stones. You just haven’t seen them yet because storytelling is weird.)

"I'll tell them," Gretel replied. "I'll be going back tonight anyway. If they have any questions after I report, they can call you." (Gretel doesn’t always go back to The House after she’s done something. She is not required to check in. She also routinely reports on behalf of the Blue Stones she works with so they don’t have to write shit down. She has an excellent memory.)

"Oh, that would be awesome. I've still got to finish cramming for my Algebra final." (Hazel is lying about needing to cram. She’s a solid student who remembers things well. She’s using “cramming” in the “stressed about finals week” sense.)

"And cleaning out the other pests."

"That, too."

Even with Gretel as a sort of magic bomb, it took another two hours to clear the rest of the anxiety beetles. By the time they finished, Hazel felt like she had bricks in her shoes, and Gretel was starting to fade in and out. (This moment was supposed to give you an idea that working a lot of magic at once can drain you. I think it read that way.)

"Please note to the Aunties that no single Blue Stone or ghost should clear a whole space that size again," Hazel said as they stopped by the fountain, and she yawned hugely.

"I will," Gretel said. She was giving Hazel the same sweet smile from earlier. (I can’t even tell you how much they kill me. They’re so fucking cute.) "You're worn out. No more studying tonight, okay? Get some sleep."

"I don't think I have a choice," Hazel said. She scrubbed her hands over her eyes and blinked a few times. "Thanks for the help."

"Of course." Gretel reached out, as she always did, her hand brushing through--

Hazel stared down at their hands. Their hands that were touching. (I literally did not know this was happening until I wrote it. I screamed.) Her hand, which Gretel was holding. She looked up and found Gretel was staring in shock as well. "How…"

"I don't know," Gretel said. She turned Hazel's hand over with her own. She met Hazel's gaze and reached out her other hand. Her fingers stroked Hazel's cheek.

"Gretel," Hazel got out. "What the fuck."

"I have no idea. I've never--there's never--" (This is not because Hazel is The Special One (tm). This is because of something I will discuss in a different story.) Gretel shook her head, then dropped her hand from Hazel's face. She tightened her grip on Hazel's hand. "I'll...I'll tell the Aunties. They'll want to know this, too. I don't think any of the ghosts have ever made contact."

"Yeah," Hazel replied, her brain clicking back on at the mention of reporting...this. "Okay. Um. Tell them I'll be free by Thursday afternoon. (The Aunties are very big on education. They try not to get in the way if they can help it. Blue Stones choosing to pay attention to their surroundings is totally cool but not required.) I'm going to Grandma's (this should be Gran. It took me a bit to decide on the proper name for her.) for the break, but I won't leave until Friday morning."

"Okay," Gretel agreed. She squeezed Hazel's hand once more, then slowly let go. "Get some sleep," she said.

"Yeah," Hazel agreed, though she felt like maybe she would never sleep again. "I'll see you soon." (She conked the fuck out ten minutes later. Unbridled glee and confusion is no match for magic fatigue.)

Gretel smiled one last time and faded into the mist around the fountain.

(Wanna remind everyone I have a ko-fi for Blue Stones, and I am always up to answer questions.)

#blue stones #the blue stones #dvd commentary #story commentary #original writing #hazel harrington #gretel #who still needs a last name #goddamnit #uberniftacular

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one-hundred-year-ocean-blog · 7 years ago

Text

TW // ABUSE - Sarah Cowell

Yesterday while I was out of state working at a friend’s screen printing shop someone hit me up to let me know that Sarah Cowell wrote a post calling me out for emotional abusing her for years. They sent me the text version of what was posted because I have had my facebook deactivated for a while now. I am only reactivating to make this statement. I am making this post as an attempt to clarify a lot of the things she claimed I had done to her and try to understand why she wants to hurt me so much. I am going to take this piece by piece with screen shots of all of our conversations we’ve ever had online. The only problem is that I can’t go back far enough in the archives of our facebook conversations to clarify the situation where I expressed having feelings for her.

“My first interaction with Nicole Shanholtzer was on the night of April 2, 2013. My band had self-released our first EP, and she had found it. She messaged us on Tumblr that night saying she wanted to put it out on tape and we were beyond thrilled. Broken World Media was a dream label for us. Over the next few months we met a few times, she made us tapes, and she and I talked online almost everyday.One night that summer she messaged me asking to talk. She told me that she was in love with me (at the time, she was married), and I panicked. I did not have feelings for her, and told her this - I was 20 years old at the time and didn't want to break up someone's marriage. It was awkward. She didn't talk to me for a while afterwards. I was worried she would stop being my friend, or stop working with my band. I didn't know what to do. She made it seem like I had led her on in some way, and what had happened was my fault. I felt like I was going to lose everything because I didn't reciprocate her feelings. Both our business and personal relationships were on the line.” I found Sarah’s band on tumblr and fell in love with their EP, I did reach out and we became friends. We spoke a lot online and I was very excited about getting to know her and how great I thought her band was. We did talk a lot online and I also talked about her with my ex-wife Katie often. I thought Sarah was incredibly talented and I was very very excited about our growing friendship. Katie began to playfully tease me about having a crush on Sarah and I did. Katie and I had talked a lot about being open in our relationship and also being into the idea of bringing other people into our sex. I mistook Katie teasing me as encouragement of my interest in Sarah. I told Sarah that I had feelings for her. I never said “I’m in love with you”, I never thought I was putting my marriage at risk. It was an awkward conversation I suppose but I most certainly never felt that Sarah was also into me and never did I express that I felt like she led me on or that any of it was her fault. I never pressured her to reciprocate the feelings. The very next day Katie and I had a long conversation about it, she was very upset, I apologized and didn’t realize I was overstepping boundaries in our relationship. We resolved the situation with what I said before, I mistook Katie playfully teasing me about having a crush on Sarah as encouragement. I then had a conversation with Sarah about it and told her about my conversation with Katie. I apologized for putting her in an awkward place. At absoutely no point in the conversation did I ask or like demand that she feel the same way. I never threaten her band’s future ability to work with my label, I cared a lot about their music and did everything in my power to help them. I felt dumb and ashamed for expressing those feelings to Sarah. I also was in no way trying to give up on my marriage to try to pursue Sarah. My archives of our facebook conversations unfortunately will net let me go back far enough to show you screen shots of our conversation. I never made it seem like we couldn’t work together if she didn’t reciprocate my feelings. This was the last time we ever talked about the situation until a few years later while we were at The Fest in Florida where while she was blackout drunk kept bringing up the situation from years ago where I told her I had feelings for her. I kept telling her it was upsetting and I didn’t want to have it brought up. She kept grabbing my hands and taking me away from our group of friends so say incoherent shit and lean on me. When she was finally done talking about it she asked me to hug her, so I did. The hug went on for a minute and i tried to end it. She would not let me go even though I was clearly trying to end the hug. I spent the rest of the night with Katie crying and talking to her about how Sarah reopened a wound for something I was very ashamed of. Below is proof that facebook won’t let me go back further into our archives so I can’t revisit this years old conversation, I can just retell it as I remember it and know that within the next few days I apologized to Sarah and talked her about my conversation with Katie about how I felt I was being encouraged to be interested in her. I was wrong, and I apologized. Here is a messaged she sent me after her blackout episode at fest where she upset me a lot:

“She didn't talk to me for a while afterwards“

I remember talking to Sarah about the conversation I had with Katie like the next day or within a few days. Before I had expressed my feelings for Sarah we had already made plans for Sarah and members of her band to travel to my house in Willimantic CT to hang out for the weekend. At first Katie did not want them to come up and hang out because she was still hurt. We talked more about it and Sarah and members of For Everest came up. We hung out in my band’s practice space and jammed some music, drank some whiskey. Later that night we were hanging out on my porch with the whiskey and I jokingly said to Nick Pitamn that he needed to take a big pull of the whiskey to “prove he wasn’t Greg”, to clarify for anyone unfamiliar I’m referring to Greg Horbal who was a member of TWIABP for a while that we liked to pick on him and refer to him as Shitty Greg for being being a little shitty. We all definitely loved and cared a lot for Greg even if we probably picked on him more than he deserved. Greg was / is / probably always will be straight edge. This was the origin of reoccurring drinking game we called “PROVE YOU ARE NOT GREG”, Sarah references this later in her post and I will get to that in a bit.

This is a screen shot of as far back as facebook would allow me to review our conversation. It says “facebook user” because we have each other blocked. Also her grown ass father has sent me multiple harassing messages on facebook.

“A few months later, I started dating David. Bad timing, probably, all things considered, but I felt very strongly for him and we just clicked. She was not happy with this, and she would frequently treat me poorly and say mean things that I won't disclose. She is a mean person, that is her thing, but I did what I could to make her happy, to keep us on good terms. I didn't just have myself to think about, but David. I was worried what would happen to both of us if she decided to cut ties with us. She constantly makes people feel like they can't get by without her, like she is necessary, that you need her.“

What I can remember is that before Dave and Sarah ever met in person I had talked about her with Dave and pretty much said that I knew Dave would definitely be into her. I told Dave about the weird situation that happened before and said something along the lines of like I would probably feel heartbroken if you got with her. Half joking, half serious. It was still difficult thing for me to navigate. At one point the band and Sarah were hanging out a friend’s apartment in Brooklyn. I don’t remember if this was the first time they met. As the night went on Dave and Sarah spent a lot of time together and it became apparent he was into her. Dave and I talked before anything happened between them. I said that my problem is dumb and shouldn’t get in the way of them wanting to be with each other. If any of my actions after this point seemed resentful that was not my intention. I never told her i wasn’t ok with her dating Daveand I did not start to treat her poorly, If we had any sort of animosity towards each other it is probably because we are both pretty hot headed people. I don’t know what Sarah claimed I said to her but I have no recollection of saying mean shit to her about her relationship with Dave. After this point I will be posting a lot of screenshots from our conversations on facebook over the years. I would be willing to share the entire transcript if ever asked. The point of most of this is show how close our friendship was and negate some of the claims she made in her post

“One day in the summer of 2014, I confronted her and told her I wanted things to be like they were before. I wanted to fix whatever weirdness had happened between us. She apologized, and offered to bring me on tour with TWIABP as a merch person, which I did.

“On that tour, she would get upset if I gave someone else more attention than I gave her. She would get annoyed that David and I slept next to each other. She would buy me drinks and get me too fucked up at shows. This was something that occurred multiple times over the next few years. If I didn't want to drink or party or hang out, I was being a bad friend. I had to push the boundaries with her, and if I declined, she would make me feel small. She would encourage me to play a game were you would drink as much as possible to "prove" you weren't straight edge.”

The tour this in reference to was with Posture & The Grizzly. A few of us in TWIABP played as Jordan’s backing band. Jordan is one of my best friends in the world and I feel like I spent the entire tour with him just getting fucked up. I could tell that Jordan (being a young and a very sloppy annoying drunk) was irritating Dave and Sarah. At one point I felt like they were bullying Jordan for accidentally spilling a drink and I got upset, stood up for him, said something like “You don’t have to be a fucking asshole about it” to her and walked off. I don’t know why Sarah believes that I treated them like shit for dating each other. I was happy they were together. If I did anything else on that tour that was mean to her it was likely because I didn’t like the way she and Dave were treating Jordan. I am a mean person, I have anger problems, and a lot of issues with controlling my emotions, I’m going to touch on that a lot more in my next post. To me, and a lot of I know that have been friends with Sarah, she is also a mean person. She can be hotheaded, quick to anger, etc. If there was any sort of problems between us i believe is was because of our issues with being assholes all the time. Never because she started dating my friend. I also never forced / pressured her to party or drink more. We both drank a lot and sort of enabled each other. I’m sorry that she now feels this way. I drink way too much, I like to get too drunk with my friends, I have a drinking problem. I was in no way intentionally trying to get Sarah more fucked up than she was comfortable with. I tend to gravitate more to people who also drink a lot because I want relationships that help enable and perpetuate my alcoholism and substance abuse problems. As far as I could tell, we were on the same page about getting fucked up. We had a lot of conversations about our issues with substance abuse and the way we drank and how it was starting to effect our relationships. She also references the “prove your not greg” drinking game we made up that I explained in the previous paragraph. To me this was an inside joke and a form of us bonding / enabling each other to drink more. I’m confused and hurt about how she presented it in her call out post. He are some examples of many many conversations we had with each other about our drinking and drug use, some celebratory and some out of concern for ourselves.

One night, she got into a physical fight with someone and kicked me out of her house for speaking up about it (I had nowhere to go so I took a cab to a train station and stood outside all night). Afterwards, she threatened to throw away everything I had left at her house, and cancelled a run of shirts she was printing for my band, leading me to believe she was dropping us. She never apologized, and in fact asked ME to apologize to HER. After a few weeks she pretended like it never happened.“

This is a very selective retelling of the situation. It is scary that she wants me to hurt so bad that she would blatantly lie. Before the screen shots of our conversation I will explain exactly what happened on the last night of our tour with Posture & The Grizzly. It was apparent after weeks of touring with Jordan that Dave was very annoyed with his behavior. Jordan got very sloppily drunk constant and was pretty disrespectful to others on the tour when he was very drunk. Jordan was very young then and is not that kind of a drunk anymore. On the last night of tour in Boston Jordan was very very drunk and pissing everyone on the tour off. He was kicked out of the venue after his set and was blacked out for most of the night. I don’t know what exactly he did to Dave to piss him off so bad, I was wasn’t very aware because I was also stupid drunk. On the 2 hour drive home from Boston Jordan passed out in the backseat of the van with me. Sarah texted in the van and said something along the lines of “heads up, Dave is really pissed at Jordan and has been texting me about kicking his ass when we get home” and I just responded “That isn’t going to happen”, to me it didn’t seem like Sarah was discouraging Dave from hurting Jordan. I can’t say for sure. Jordan is blackout drunk and slept the entire drive home. Dave got out of the van and stood by the door. I woke up Jordan to let him know we were at my house and he needed to get out of the van. The second he stepped out of the van Dave grabbed Jordan and threw him to the ground and to me it looked like he was about to start kicking him / attacking him. I jumped out of the van as fast as I could and punched Dave once in the face and then grabbed him by his hair on the back of his head and started yelling at him “What the fuck do you think you’re doing???” As this happens Sarah gets out of the van and starts yelling at me. My immediate reaction was that she was mad that I wasn’t letting Dave kick Jordan’s ass. I stopped what I was doing and said “Both of you need to get the fuck out of here, you are not staying at my house” Within the next few days Dave and I made up and jokingly said something like “It’s fine, we grew up in West Virginia and sometimes you punch your friends” We were on good terms then. At some point days later Sarah messaged me angry that I never apologized to her and I was confused because in my mind i believed that she was pissed I stopped Dave from hurting Jordan. She claims I never apologized to her and asked her to apologize to me. Here is the conversation we had about the situation after it happened.

“One night, my band played a show in Connecticut near her house. Afterwards a big group of us went to the diner down the street from her. She had been drinking that night and already gotten sick, so I was caring for her while both our partners slept at her house. She began to get visibly distressed, and asked me to hold her hand, so I did. During our meal she started crying and the two of us went outside. Once we got to the parking lot, she told me once more she was in love with me. She said she didn't know how to not be in love with me, and not being with me makes her want to kill herself. Again, I didn't know what to do. I calmed her down as best as I could and told her we would always be friends - but just friends. She told me not to tell anyone, so I didn't for a long time.She would regularly express her feelings for me when she got drunk. She would make me feel bad for not feeling the same way. She would threaten to kill or hurt herself because we weren't together. She would encourage me to get fucked up with her and get mad when I wouldn't kiss her. She would flash her breasts at me even after I asked her not to. As her mental health got worse over the years, every conversation we had would turn into manipulation and emotional abuse.“

I am not entirely when she claims this happened. I most definitely never made any physical advance on her or tried to kiss her. I never felt strongly enough about her romantically to believe for a second that I would do have done this to her. Once her and Dave were dating and I became better friends with Sarah I didn’t have those feelings for her anymore. I most certainly never threatened to kill myself if she wouldn’t love me back. Scrolling through years of our conversations on facebook there is absolutely no mention of me continuing to have feelings for her or any reference to a situation like what she described. I also don’t know of a time I flashed her my breasts or continued to do so after she asked me not to. I have no screen shots because as far as I can tell we never had a conversation like this on facebook ever. There isn’t a single instance I could find in years of our conversations where I expressed a continued romantic relationship with her. I’m not sure what show she was referring to this happening after but here is a message she sent to me after Broken World fest which happened while I was living in East Haven. I believe For Everest stayed at my house that night. Maybe that is what she is referring to.

There have been quite a few times in our friendship where Sarah would get really drunk an touch me without my consent. There was a specific weird situation when I was living in East Haven and She was visiting with Dave at the time. We were all drinking of course. I had gotten my first dress after coming out more publicly about being trans and was wearing it. Sarah and I were talking about gender dysphoria and I talked about how I didn’t know i didn’t know how to really do my makeup that well and I wanted to figure out how to pluck and shape my eyebrows. I remember her quickly taking me away from the rest of the group and into my bedroom to pluck my eyebrows. I felt nervous that her rushing me off to my room and then shutting the door without saying a word to Dave or Katie would look really suspicious, I was really uncomfortable and she was being forceful. During her attempt at grooming my eyebrows we continued to have a conversation about gender dysphoria and i talked about issues I had with my body and not being able to pass. I talked about wishing i had breasts that weren’t just because I am overweight but I wished I had like actual “female breasts” without any warning she stopped plucking my eyebrows and cupped my breasts without consent. She then said “I think you have really good breasts” and went back to plucking my eyebrows. I didn’t really know how to react because I already felt weird about her rushing me off into a room to be alone in front of both of our partners. Even though it made me uncomfortable and nervous I never felt like it was a problem big enough to hold her accountable for or talk about it again.

“As her mental health got worse over the years, every conversation we had would turn into manipulation and emotional abuse.“

“Towards the end of our friendship, when we were preparing to put our our LP with Broken World Media, I would ask to talk business and she would ignore me or get mad. When we would finally get around to it, she would change the subject and send me photos of her self harm. I would try to brush it off (the subject is highly triggering for me) and nothing would get done.”

Here is just about every single screen shot I can find of our conversations about my mental health getting worse and how I felt I was handling things poorly. This is how we spoke with each other the entire time we were very close friends. This addresses her claim that i sent her self photos and ignore her. There is one photo because we having a long conversation about our history and problem with self harm.

The next set of screen shots of our conversations immediately after my wife left me and the band kicked me out. When all those folks were still friendly with me and just wanted me to get help. That I’m going to address in another post I’ve working on.

I have years and years worth of our conversations I would be willing to share with anyone. I am horrified that these people I haven’t talked to or heard from in a year are still trying to find ways to hurt me. I don’t know what they want me to do. I’m convinced they actually just want me to commit suicide.

If absolutely necessary i have a countless number of screenshots where we are actively having conversations about their record, plans on releasing it, stuff we could to promote it. I worked really hard for that band. I only lost money on their projects really, they weren’t super popular but I loved their music and cared greatly for those people.

I don’t know what else to do to stop these people from actively trying to hurt me. I can’t let them continue lie about me or tell half truths to conveniently only implicate me. I’m working on a larger post about my situation with TWIABP that I will post soon.

Here is an unorganized dropbox folder of all the screen shots i took from our conversations, a lot of them didn’t end up in the post. If you are curious here you go: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/6dv1y0ercru67z6/AAARJxO_vqhKveKDIyMQEgkga?dl=0

#sarah cowell #nicole schoenholz #twiabp #for everest #abuse

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coffeeandmoonthoughts · 6 years ago

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billy

I had to have been about 18 or 19. I know I wasn't 21 yet, and a few months prior I had gotten out of a relationship. He took me to a Red Lobster for our first date and hit on the waitress. I know that sounds like an over told cliché but, that literally happened. I laughed it off, still trying to figure him (and myself) out. He was extra lively that night and I didn't realize until later that he was stark drunk. Like, really drunk. And on other substances as well. I dated him anyways. He was tall and built and had a motorcycle. He hit on me a lot at work and I always fought off his advances, thinking he was a player and I just didn’t have time and energy for that. But, I played basketball with him and the guys at the park. I wasn't good, but they always invited me. One summer day my friend Hunter, invited me to the river with him and Billy. I brought a girl friend and we spent the day out there swimming. My friend told me it was clear both of the guys were into me. Hunter crossed a line, right in front of Billy, when he dunked me under and clearly copped a feel. I was annoyed with it. Here I was, caught in the middle of this. I decided I was going to go for one of them since I didn't have anything better to do and it had been a minute since my last breakup. I knew they were both a little on the wild side and I weighed my options before choosing Billy. I didn't particularly want to be tied down by anyone, but I wanted to try something anyways. That’s how I ended up on that date.

I knew Billy’s stepdad personally. He was a sheriff that was contracted to my workplace and ran security. He talked to me every single night for hours while I worked. I had heard stories about Billy’s drug addict mother but he never brought it up to me, I just put two and two together. Soon, I was at Billy’s house every night and they became my adopted family. I was never really public about anything, but I would disappear and that’s where I would go. Wasn't long after that I realized Billy had an extensive drinking and substance abuse problem which I chose to ignore(!!!!!!!). I would go over to his place, hang out upstairs with Billy doing you guess what and when he would get too drunk and pass out, I would be left wide awake and alone. I would wander downstairs to grab a sprite and end up watching tv on the couch with his Dad. His dad also ran security for the school behind their house, so some nights i would take their two large English mastiff’s and run the nightly perimeter check with his Dad. We would check the doors and make sure the whole school was locked up, shoot some hoops and walk back.

This type of thing went on for a while. I would say I was with Billy for two or maybe three months, tops. I never let Billy get too close to my family, or told many people about anything that went on. You could probably say i used him just as much as he used me. I wasn't big into labels, they intimidated me. Plus, nothing was permanent and neither was I. I killed some time, used the hot tub at his house, and put up with the rug burns on my back from the pool table. It was good when it was good, but when it was bad, it was bad. A lot of times, he didn't know when to stop in many ways and would get completely incoherent, uncontrollable and unreasonable. He was very tall and heavy, and oftentimes, I just couldn’t wrangle him when he was like that. You cant reason with someone who doesn't have the mental capacity to think straight because they are under the effect of the drugs and alcohol. He was unstable all the time. I never knew which Billy I would get and it kept me on edge all the time. One night he picked me up and I could tell as soon as we started driving, he was under the influence. He swerved and his eyes were closing as he drove but he wouldn't pull over and let me drive. I begged him to and started to panic, wondering if I should tumble out at the next stop sign. Reluctantly he eventually let me take over. I ran to the drivers side and had to pull him out but he was so heavy. I climbed into the drivers seat and adjusted the seat and mirrors while he drooled and passed out in the passenger seat. He drove a big Tahoe and at the time I didn’t even have a car, so I wasn’t used to it. It felt like driving a large bus around and I felt so tiny I had to scoot the seat all the way up. I slowly drove him home and he couldn’t even get into the house and upstairs. That’s when his problem started getting really bad. I worried what other danger he might put me in and not tell me.

One time, I did almost the worst thing you could do to a motocycle. I dropped it. He left me standing there with it while he went inside and when he came out it was lying on the ground with a scratch mark on the side. It was incredibly heavy but he was so pissed off it didn’t matter. We really hadn’t been dating long but he took me back to his hometown to visit his birth father and the rest of his family. I remember thinking how odd it was. We weren’t serious and it felt like I was being paraded in to be judged or something. It’s okay, I was judging his dad and family too.

Of course, we all have our own history and he broke down and told me about his longtime girlfriend before me. She lived with them and was pregnant. Ended up losing the baby far into term. I had a suspicion that it was lost to drug use. But I wasn’t sure. I found a photo of her once, clearly very pregnant. She was shorter than me and blonde and covered in fake tan, I think. We had simularities but we weren’t the same style at all. It seemed to really effect him. I felt sorry for him. I empathized too much. I saw people’s backstories and allowed it to influence me.

We got into a lot of fights. I knew how to pick my battles with him. I would put up with whatever I had to until he was sane enough to think logically. A lot of the time, I just couldn’t get through to him. He was a recluse and didn’t hang out much with people. One time we were invited to one of Hunter’s house parties. I was having fun but Billy was getting more and more tanked into oblivion. He started acting weird with me and yelling at me to go outside so I did. He began to yell at me on the front porch and cause a scene. He told me he knew what was going on. That there was something going on between Hunter and I. He was trashed but trying to get into his Tahoe and drive away. Hunter came out and tried to fix things but he just made it much, much worse. It was like arguing at a brick wall. It didn't get you anywhere. I’m ashamed to say he made me leave the party with him and drove me home drunk. When we got to his place, we continued to argue and I knew there was no resolving it until he was sober (if ever he would be). I don't know what I ever thought would come from this.

We went to have a game night at a friends house one night. He got drunk and i was afraid he would embarrass me there. Which he did. He went outside for some “air” (he didn't smoke). I walked up behind him while he was sitting on the back porch steps and saw that his phone was open and he was messaging someone. “Not much baby what are you doing”. I questioned him about it and he told me it was his little cousin. This man must think I'm a goddamn fool, I thought. Like, he’s actually saying this and thinking I'll believe it. So i let him think i believed it until could safely cut it off - which was never. Anyways, I eventually got my point across. And then he retaliated. He showed up drunk at my place. Banging on the front door and unfortunately, my mom opened up when I told her not to. My mom had never seen or talked to him before, I kept it that way on purpose. After a couple seconds my mom figured out he was w a s t e d. He was crying and apologizing and humiliating himself. He told my mom he would marry me and got down on one knee. It makes me both sad, and laugh thinking about it now. Sad because i feel bad for him, laugh because of how stupid it was. But it was also one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life. I never wanted my mom to know I had dated him. He begged me to come back with him and she chased him out with a bloody broom. He drunkenly drove off before she called the cops, but not before I took one look at her and got in the Tahoe with him. I guess, I did it because i was embarrassed and couldn't stand to have the conversation with my mom that would follow what she just saw. I would rather have died. I kept my mom out of most of my life, I wasn't about to have that can of worms opened up now. He didn't make it far. We argued and yelled and he swerved and pulled over in the front yard of his friends house.

His friend was older and dating my sister who was living with him at the time. He was pretty responsible and owned a house. Right after this escapade, I ended up moving in with them and renting a room, I also got a car and my shit together. Except that following me moving in, I ended up having to kick his ass for beating up my sister in a domestic dispute I barged in on when I broke in through a window. I wrote about on my old blog. But that's a whole other story. Anyways, we pulled into the house and I ran out of the car and towards the house before Billy could stop me. His friend came out and physically stopped him before he could follow me. He was a big guy though and out of control at this point, so two people from next door came out and held him back. I was so humiliated that night. I couldn't even go home. I crashed at their house once Billy was under control and escorted out. Billy met me a few days later to talk. He was sober at this time. We sat there in awkward silence with each other until he began to tell me there was no way in hell we could ever be together. He told me we both knew how this was going to end. He said I was too good for him and that he was trash and I would go on to do big things and that he only held me back. Yeah, I cried. Because I couldn't fix him. I was in the midst of trying to figure my own issues out and getting lost in fixing another so I didn't have to deal with my own, but I didn't know it didn't work that way. You cant do that. You can only fix yourself. And I got a feeling his closet of issues wasn't going to be opened and addressed anytime soon.

His step dad never brought it up to me. I was happy that he never discussed it when he was security at my work. I didn't want to talk about it, but told me I was too good for Billy and he pushed me back into school. Some things never change. I still ran into Billy at work on occasion. But I avoided him. I heard he was even more of an alcoholic and eventually might have gotten a DUI. He would go out to his car and shotgun warm beers to keep his buzz all day. One day he approached me in the cooler at work when i asked him to move a large box for me. He made a comment about my boobs and i could tell he was fucked up. He asked for a hug and i told him no. I told him I was going back to Arizona and he laughed and told me I didn’t have a reason to. I didn't react. I already had the plane ticket booked. He didn’t know me at all, he didn't know anything about me. I just walked away. But later I went to the bathroom and cried. That's where Ben found me. I had just gotten done crying and decided that would never happen again. I would flip my script. I told Ben a little about what happened with Billy, but I filtered it all and left specific things out of the story.

#personal

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thesoundofnat · 8 years ago

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Revelations

Jim, Bones

Summary: Three times Jim reveals something about himself to Bones while drunk, and one time he reveals something while sober.

A/N: @outside-the-government asked to be tagged when I wrote another Star Trek fic, so here you go! I hope you’ll like it!

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of neglect.

Words: 2 279

One bottle of something later and both Bones and Jim should’ve been incoherent messes, but if there was one thing they were both good at it was holding their liquor. Bones remembered a time when he’d scowled at Jim for his ability to not join the other freshmen in the bathroom or the floor or occasionally the emergency room (though Bones would’ve kicked his ass if he’d done the latter). Jim wasn’t that much older than the other first year students, but the fact that he didn’t sway after two glasses of whatever like the others meant that Jim was more familiar with booze than they were, and that had worried Bones to death.

Now, several years and a ship later, he’d learnt to not linger on it. Jim had never even so much as hinted about why he’d once had such an intimate relationship with alcohol, and Bones wasn’t exactly in any position to ask since he would’ve been the biggest hypocrite. But they were both better. Drinking less. Had to drink less due to their duties. But they didn’t mind. Sometimes, however, they needed a little something in their system or they might go insane. At least that was how Bones was feeling.

Jim’s face was flushed, and Bones was sure he wasn’t looking any more respectable himself, but other than that you could barely tell the captain was intoxicated. He kept squinting in Bones’ direction though, so he guessed not even Jim was completely immune to the bottle’s power.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, not even slurring. “Remember our nights out back at the Academy?”

“How could I forget.”

Jim’s smile was wistful. “Damn. Never thought I’d miss school.”

“It’s the freedom of school you miss,” Bones told him, pushing his empty glass around and leaving a wet trail on the table. “The only expectations we had back then was that we would pass all our classes and not get in too much trouble.”

Jim hummed. “That’s true. Did you know I was scared of graduating?”

Bones frowned. He hadn’t known that at all.

“I’m serious,” Jim said when he saw his look. “I was fucking terrified of the real world, because in my head it wasn’t the same world I had left before the Academy. It was bigger. Full of opportunities I never would’ve been able to even reach for before Pike found me, no matter who my father was.” He tipped his glass just to feel the few drops in it hit his tongue. “I know I was all cocky about being the best and becoming captain and what not, but I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I couldn’t show it though, or people would start doubting me.”

Bones didn’t say anything at first, just watched him push his glass away and eye the empty bottle sadly. It all made sense, of course, but Bones had never really paused to ponder over how Jim had actually been feeling about it all. He’d always figured the kid had so many things to prove to people and to himself so that he never even dreaded the outcome.

Leonard McCoy felt like a goddamn idiot for not having seen it.

“You know it’s normal to fear the future, right?” he said, trying to sound supportive without invalidating his friend’s feelings.

Jim caught his gaze and smiled again, and this time it was somewhat sheepish. “I know. I guess I just thought I didn’t have the right to feel that.”

“You have the right to feel anything.”

“With who my father was,” Jim continued as if Bones hadn’t said anything. “I’ve always felt like I needed to be better.”

“You’re a great captain, Jim.”

Jim laughed. Bones couldn’t entirely identify what the laugh meant. “God, I need another drink.”

Bones grabbed his glass and pulled it toward himself. “No more. We’ve had enough for tonight, don’t you think?”

“I hate how right you sometimes are,” Jim muttered with a sigh. “Let’s go drink a bucket of water each. Be responsible or something.”

Bones grinned at how overly dejected he sounded and stood to lead the way. Normally he wasn’t one to deny them one last drink, but if Jim was revealing things about himself that Bones had never heard about during the years they’d known each other he knew it was time to stop before Jim confessed to even graver things that he wouldn’t want anyone to know. As curious as Bones could be, he wasn’t a sadist like that.

But damn was he curious.

***

Bones was sure Jim remembered their talk. Neither of them were very good at forgetting drunk situations, but they didn’t comment on it. Bones didn’t see a point in doing it anyway. It had been a long time ago, and maybe Jim didn’t find it as embarrassing anymore, so why should they talk about it to begin with? The thought occasionally crossed Bones’ mind though; how Jim’s sleepless nights back then made much more sense now.

Maybe Bones needed to be more observant.

It took them about a month before they hid away in Jim’s quarters for another night of drinking. Bones only had to look at Jim one evening before he mumbled a “be right back” and left the room only to return ten minutes later with a bottle he was keeping for special occasions. The way Jim’s eyes lit up told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re an angel, Bones,” Jim all but moaned, and Bones had to laugh.

“Maybe we shouldn’t overdo it.”

They toasted and knocked back their first few drinks easily, though Bones urged them to savor the rest since he wouldn’t be able to get this specific brand until they returned to Earth again, and that wasn’t anytime soon.

An hour later and they still had quite a bit left, but with how strong it was Jim was already laughing that tipsy laugh of his as his face became redder and redder. It was hilarious enough for Bones to join in.

“We must be exhausted,” Jim said once they’d calmed down. “Or maybe you put something in the booze.”

“Don’t you think the booze could do this to us on its own?”

Jim shot him a look. “Come on.”

Bones held up his hands. “It was just a suggestion.” But Bones did agree that they must both have been severely sleep deprived if they were giggling like this already.

Jim poured them both another glass and spent a few seconds just staring at the liquid as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Then his eyes met Bones’ and he smiled sadly.

“Did you know my first month as captain was torture because I knew I couldn’t just drink whenever I wanted?”

Bones had had a hunch since he’d experienced something similar, but he hadn’t been aware of how much it must’ve affected him. He tilted his head in a silent request for Jim to continue.

“I remember thinking that I could do whatever I wanted because I was the captain. Turns out you have so many fucking responsibilities that drinking is the last thing on your mind. And if you get a moment over you start getting afraid that something’s gonna happen and you won’t be able to help because you’ll be drunk out of your mind.” Jim exhaled slowly. “I figured I could learn to only have one glass or so, just to calm down after a rough day. Then I got afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop.”

They were silent for a moment, both lost in thought. Bones could definitely relate to what he was saying, and he wasn’t even the captain. The ‘Fleet could tolerate a lot of things, but neglecting your duties wasn’t one of them. It had taken him a lot of years to come to terms with that sometimes you just needed a drink.

“How come you drink now?” he asked, looking up and meeting Jim’s gaze again.

Jim seemed calmer when he replied. “Because I trust Spock’s ability to know what to do in an emergency.”

And Bones trusted Chapel’s ability. He hadn’t done that before.

He grabbed a hold of his glass and held it up in front of him. “To asking for help.”

Jim blinked, smiled, and held up his own to knock it against Bones’. “To not having to bear every burden alone.”

They drank and then they went to bed with the knowledge that the bottle wasn’t empty. They were getting better.

***

The next time Bones’ lips touched booze was only a couple of weeks later, and the sole reason for that was because Jim had insisted they drink. It was Bones’ birthday after all.

Knowing that Bones wasn’t big on celebrations, Jim agreed to it just being the two of them and the rest of the bottle they hadn’t finished. Bones couldn’t have asked for a better birthday, he had to admit. Jim was smiling and talking animatedly through the night, which didn’t make matters any worse either. Bones was sure he was grinning from ear to ear himself.

“Tell me about your best birthday so far,” Jim urged him after having recounted his attempt at throwing Bones a birthday party during their first year at the Academy before finding out Bones hated celebrations which resulted in him having to frantically cancel everything last minute.

“Besides this one?”

“Obviously.”

Bones hummed skeptically. “I don’t know, man. I have a vague memory of my 16th birthday being great.”

“Your sweet 16, eh?” Jim wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Do share some details.”

“That was like a hundred years ago,” Bones said with a laugh.

“Cut yourself some slack, doctor.”

“I don’t really remember much of it. Just that it was good. Do you remember all your birthdays anyway? How about you tell me about your sweet 16.”

Had Bones been more sober he might’ve noticed the brief look that passed over Jim’s face, but he only noticed how silent he’d suddenly gone. But before Bones could properly realize he’d fucked up and apologize Jim was talking again.

“My 16th birthday sucked,” he said softly, nonchalantly. “I spent it alone with a fake ID so that I could get a hold of booze. It wasn’t really the most heartwarming birthday to be honest.”

Bones felt like a moron for asking. He knew Jim’s homelife hadn’t been good. He knew that Jim had left home before he was legal. He should’ve known. He should’ve fucking known.

“You don’t have to tell me more,” he said, his voice raspy and somewhat choked up.

Jim only smiled. “It’s all right. I like telling you about stuff. It makes me feel better afterwards.”

If Bones still wasn’t mentally beating himself up maybe he would’ve been flattered.

“I’ll tell you about my best birthday, though,” Jim continued, sounding more cheerful. “It was the year before my older brother ran away. I was like ten or something. I don’t remember. He bought me cake and presents and made sure my mom and stepdad would be out so that we could celebrate alone. Maybe he knew it would be the last birthday he’d spend with me, because I remember him leaving only a few months later.” Jim raised his glass, but didn’t drink. “I threw away all the gifts he’d given me after he left. I still regret it to this day.”

Bones watched him drink, took a sip himself, and said, “Next year I’ll make sure to throw you the biggest party ever.”

“You don’t have to do that, Bones.”

“I know.”

Jim didn’t say anything, and Bones knew this night was about to wrap up. The bottle was now empty.

***

Life on the Enterprise continued as usual with a bunch of calm days followed up by near death experiences. Bones always had to remind himself to never complain about being bored, but of course he broke his own promise only days later. As reluctant as he’d been about being stuck in space he had to admit it was a good way to test his patience at least.

Nothing had tried to kill them yet that week, and yet Bones still found Jim all but nodding off in his chair, and the fact that he didn’t protest when Bones started pulling him toward his room was enough of an indication that Jim needed sleep right now or he would crash.

“Come on, off with your boots,” Bones told him as he dumped his friend on the bed.

Jim made a whining sound that only Bones would ever hear and started kicking his feet in a weak attempt to do as Bones had asked. Bones only sighed and took a hold of his ankle. “Hold still.”

Jim smiled as Bones helped him get ready for bed, much like he’d done during their Academy days. He guessed some things just never changed, no matter what your title was.

“Thank you, you’re the best,” Jim slurred, and Bones had to find it hilarious that he acted more drunk when he was tired than when he was actually drunk.

“Don’t I know it. Come on, get under the covers, you big idiot.”

“I really appreciate you, you know,” Jim said as Bones tucked him in. “Like, so much. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for.”

Bones knew all that, but they rarely vocalized how much they meant to each other. It was all just indicated.

Apparently Jim didn’t only reveal things when he had alcohol in his system, and Bones didn’t mind it at all.

“Ditto, kiddo,” he said, even though Jim was already fast asleep.

#mckirk #mckirk fic #star trek fic #star trek angst #sorta #star trek #mine #revelations #nat writes #alcohol tw #outside-the-government

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