#me omw to organize everything ever

[cloudcountry]

i should make a mutuals list actually

[iamnotparticularlyproud]

PPB Square: Kink Discovery | @peterparkerbingo

word count: 2.7k rating: mature warnings: none ao3 link: https://bit.ly/3xpiBdx

Summary: Bucky and Peter have been together for a while, but Peter can’t bring himself to talk to his boyfriend about how their sex life is a bit - uh, well, boring. Instead, Peter searches Bucky’s laptop while he isn’t home for any sign of kink whatsoever. To say it doesn’t go as he planned would be an understatement.

Bucky’s amazing. So, so amazing, and Peter could go on about it for days - about his silly nicknames, the way he makes the Brooklyn drawl sound adorable, his unexpected dorkiness and razor sharp wit, how his hands are so calloused but he holds Peter so softly--

Days, Peter could come up with these for days. 

So, it’s not like there’s anything he wishes he could change about their relationship. It’s - they’re - perfect, everything’s been perfect. Bucky’s just so nice, and after Beck, Peter wasn’t sure he’d ever be in a relationship again, let alone one so - so good. So healthy, and so supportive. 

It’s just--

Their sex is so vanilla. Painfully vanilla. The most unconventional Bucky gets is with his dirty talk, and, yeah, Peter loves how his boyfriend will call him his sweet lil boy, and tell Peter how good he takes a thick cock in his tight ass, but that's about as far as Bucky ever goes. 

And that - that isn’t a bad thing, Peter knows that, it’s just. Boring, sometimes, is all.

Peter wishes he could talk to Bucky about it, because the man always stresses communication and talking problems out, but it’s just so embarrassing. Peter’s just thinking about it and he’s flushed, so how could he say the word kink out loud? 

He can’t. He really, really can’t.

So Peter does the only other thing he can think to do.

He steals Bucky’s laptop and rummages for any signs of kink - anything to suggest his boyfriend isn’t as vanilla as it seems. Peter knows he doesn’t have long - Bucky’s out getting takeout from their favorite Thai place, and it isn’t too far - so he doesn’t waste time as he searches all the keywords he can think of in Bucky’s unorganized folders, his internet history that’s never been cleared, the hard drive Peter got him because he complained about memory but Peter was 99% sure he never touched - he was right - and then tries his luck with the recycle bin, but--

There’s not just no sign of kink.

There’s nothing. There’s no porn at all.

Peter’s mind is blown. He hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t find porn, he thought that everyone watched porn - and unless Bucky knew how to delete specific pages from his browser history, which Peter heavily doubts, because, c'mon - but apparently, Bucky doesn’t.

He considers that, maybe, since Bucky is nearly a decade older than him, he consumes his porn in a different way. Maybe physical movies or, godforbid, magazines.

Peter’s considering looking through Bucky’s drawers and closets until he finds proof of pornography consumption, but then someone’s clearing their throat behind him.

“Jesus, how do you--” Peter exclaims, because it’s nowhere near the first time this six foot hunk of a man has snuck up on him. Then, he glances at the clunky computer in his lap that is obviously not his, and back at Bucky, who’s looking at the laptop, and then at Peter.

“What’re you doin’ with my computer?”

Peter panics, not because Bucky seems upset, because he doesn’t, just - confused, but it’s such a weird thing to be doing, and he can’t lie at all, and this isn’t--

“Does that say porn?” Bucky asks, suddenly leaning over Peter’s shoulder, and he just sounds amused, but Peter goes on the defensive anyway.

“I-It’s just, you never, and I - this isn’t me wanting you to change, or--”

Bucky moves quickly when Peter starts that familiar stress-ramble; he circles around the couch, puts the plastic bag filled with food down on the coffee table and sits next to him, wrapping an arm around his back and shushing him kindly.

“Slow down, doll.” Bucky smiles, sincerity etched in his crow’s feet, “Can’t understand you when you’re talkin’ too fast, remember?”

Peter stops. He nods, then he takes a breath. When he lets it go, Bucky tells him to take a deeper one, so he does, and as he breathes it out, he feels the alarm fade.

Not completely, though. Not with the evidence of his snooping in his lap.

With a glance back at where porn is still typed out in the recycle bin’s search bar and a chuckle, Bucky asks, almost laughing, “What were you doin’, sweetheart?” 

Peter doesn’t expect it, but the fight drains from his body. It’s him accepting his fate, he realizes belatedly.

“I, uh,” Peter pauses, because it’s still so difficult to say the words, “was looking for porn.”

Bucky laughs for real this time, and Peter closes his eyes with a sigh. That wasn’t what he meant to say, at all.

“No - I was looking for y-your porn, like, what you watch,” Peter explains, and Bucky is still laughing, but he waves a hand.

“Yeah, I got that.” He says, making an effort to curb his laughter, “Why, though?”

Peter bites his lip. "Do you watch porn?”

He was scared that meeting Bucky’s question with a question would frustrate the man, but he only looks more amused.

“Why would I?”

Huh?

“What?”

“Why would I watch porn?” Bucky sounds genuinely confused, “We have sex almost everyday.”

Almost, Peter nearly stresses, but catches himself. Obviously, he’s dramatically misread the situation. 

“Y-Yeah, but,” Peter tries to come up with something, anything, “like, maybe, before we dated?”

“I know it’s kinda old, but I got the thing not too long before we met, actually.”

That bit of information also sends Peter reeling, and he almost argues about it - because the laptop isn’t 'kinda old,' it’s ancient - but Bucky speaks before he does.

“Were you lookin’ for the kinda porn I’m into?”

Peter nearly sags with relief. How does he always manage to get it before Peter has to explain? 

“Yeah.”

Bucky’s smile shifts, and it’s - he likes that, Peter notices, and, it’s - it's sexual.

“What, did you wanna tease me?” Bucky licks his lips, “Rile me up?”

Oh. That works, and it’s pretty true, even. Peter can work with that.

He nods. Bucky continues, and he looks so pleased.

“It’s you, sugar,” Bucky brings his hand to Peter’s cheek, and his hold is so gentle, but the calluses are rough, and it’s such a satisfying dichotomy that Peter can’t help but lean into it, “You get me wild.”

If only. Peter’s never seen him be wild. 

But he couldn’t say that. Not when Bucky sounds like he absolutely means it, and it makes Peter’s heart flutter.

Peter has been a bit weird lately. 

Well, Peter is always a bit weird, but it’s a part of his charm. He’s been acting extra weird lately, Bucky’s noticed, and while it’s just as endearing, it’s confusing, too.

He almost calls Peter out on it after he’s found him searching for porn on his computer - more than he had already, anyway - but he just gets so tense when Bucky tries to make him really talk about something. He doesn’t want to bring up that energy - not so late, anyway. 

So Bucky plans to talk to him about it tomorrow.

And Peter thwarts that plan as soon as they wake up. Usually, he’s eager to spend the last day of their shared weekend off together, but before they’ve even had their coffee, Peter’s rushing out the door with the excuse of meeting up with his college friends at a cafe. Not too long later he texted they were going to do an impromptu study group for an upcoming quiz, then, after five hours, texted him they were going to hang out more.  

Bucky tries not to be suspicious of or retaliatory to Peter even more than he’s learned to be with his partners, because the kid’s not had a great track record with boyfriends, to say the least, but this is ridiculous. When he’s been gone for a whole seven hours, under the guise of shoddy excuses, Bucky decides his curiosity needs to be sated more than Peter needs to be coddled, and his new plan is to snoop into Peter’s computer like the kid tried with him. Obviously, if he assumed Bucky would have porn on his laptop, Peter’s got some on his. 

Bucky doesn’t plan to look until Peter texts that he’s on his way home, though. He thinks it’ll be funny if the kid finds himself where Bucky stood last night.

So, after Peter texted that he’s omw, Bucky pulls out his computer. It’s so sleek, thin and light, yet wide, and he hates using it, but he’s dying to know. How much porn could Peter possibly watch, considering how much they have sex, and how busy he’s kept as a student and part-time employee?

Not very much, Bucky assumes.

And holy fuck is he wrong.

He takes a wild guess and searches porn in the convenient - but too bulky, and ugly - search engine in the toolbar, and a stupidly obviously labeled folder, not porn don’t look, comes right up. There’s several subfolders - distinguishing the videos by kink, dear God - and dozens of videos in most of them, over a hundred in a few.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s surprised - Jesus Christ, so surprised - at so many things, but - where the fuck does Peter find the time to watch so much porn? What does it mean that he’s amassed such a collection? How has Bucky never walked in on him watching it? Is there a way to see how many hours of it there are, because it’s a stupidly high amount, definitely--

Bucky takes a breath. He leans back, too, because the little previews are too much to look at, and he takes a moment to appreciate just how understandable it was that Peter was so confused yesterday. It must be unthinkable, to not watch porn, to him. But - Peter’s never even mentioned porn before, not in the half-a-year they’ve been dating, so what was so different about yesterday?

The question has Bucky sitting back up, ready to delve deeper. He starts by reading the names of the folders closer, finding it’s not just organized by kink, but by his favorite pornstars, too. The kid’s got several, all with typical pornstar names, and according to the previews, he’s got a type for big and buff. Checks out.

With another deep, grounding breath, Bucky clicks on the folder name Ultimate Favorites. It’s only got thirteen videos in it, but all the titles are a fuckin’ doozy. It’s shit like Small Twink Fucked Hard, and Daddy Pounds His Boy Until He Cries, and - Jesus fuck - Dom Verbally Abuses Sub While Anally Abusing Him. 

Bucky’s nauseous just reading that last one. He never would’ve guessed Peter was into such rough sex. Not just because the kid gets all wide-eyed and stuttery whenever sex is even mentioned, but because Peter’s just so - soft. In all the ways a person can be, really.

Bucky doesn’t know how to reconcile what he knows Peter to be like with this new information about him. He distantly knows that he doesn’t have to - that Peter’s kinks don't reflect anything about his personality, and acting like they do is only reductive - but the instinct is so strong, he can’t help but fruitlessly try.

Before he can reconsider, Bucky’s clicking on one of the more mildly titled videos - not that any of them are mild at all - just to understand better what Peter’s so into. 

The video loads almost immediately, and it doesn’t waste time with any kind of introduction - there’s suddenly two men on the screen, their size difference resembling Bucky and Peter’s to a ridiculous degree, and the larger one pushes the smaller onto a bed carelessly before climbing on top of him. It’s a bunch of shoving and aggressive groping along with cruel words and name calling, and Bucky’s never been more turned off in his life. He can’t believe this porno is among Peter’s favorites - his boyfriend’s never once let on that this is the kind of sex he’s into.

While he’s staring, Bucky’s on screen lookalike finally quitting with the rough teasing and moving onto the brutal fucking, he hears Peter enter his apartment. Bucky doesn’t mute the video, and Peter’s light footsteps stop immediately. Bucky can just see the look on his face - that caught-in-the-headlights one that makes Peter look more like a deer than Bucky thought a person could - and he stifles a laugh as the steps pick back up, this time much more hesitant. When Peter’s a good foot into the living room, Bucky turns around, acting as if he hadn’t heard him coming in.

With the computer filling the room with sounds of slapping and exaggerated moans, Bucky greets, struggling to keep a smirk off his face,  “Hi, honey. How was your day?”

Peter doesn’t answer him and - yep, there’s that look. Instead, he gapes like a fish at where his computer is steadied on Bucky’s lap, eyes wide and frantic.

“Why’d you never mention this, doll?” Bucky asks, dropping the act as Peter keeps looking like disaster is seconds away. He pauses the video and sets the laptop to the side, motioning for Peter to join him on the couch.

Peter does join him, albeit uncertain and his eyes still trained on the graphic image on the computer screen. He’s quiet as he sits as far as he can from Bucky.

“I--” Peter starts, gaze transfixed on the laptop. “Can you - close that?”

Bucky does. Peter keeps looking at it.

“You okay?” Bucky asks, chuckling.

Peter finally looks at him. He seems scared, Bucky realizes. He closes a bit of the distance between them, leaving some incase Peter feels suffocated, and puts a hand on the back of his neck, a touch Peter always leans into.

He does this time, too. He relaxes some, and Bucky prompts, “Were you scared to tell me?”

Peter relaxes even more, his shoulders falling. He nods. “I know you probably don’t care--”

Bucky interrupts to confirm with a nod of his own, “I don’t.”

“But it’s just--” Peter huffs, eyebrows furrowing, “Embarrassing.”

Bucky nods more. “It doesn’t change how I think about you.” He reassures Peter, “At all.”

“That's good.” Peter breathes, and Bucky can’t help but laugh softly. “I was starting to think it would gross you out.”

It kinda does, but Bucky doesn’t say that. It isn’t important how the porn he’s into makes Bucky feel. 

“No, baby. It doesn’t.”

Peter leans into his side, and Bucky shifts to embrace him. Silence attempts to settle around them, but Bucky can’t help his need to tease.

“So… where’d you find the time to make such a collection?” 

Peter cringes. “I, uh, started it years ago.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t know why he didn���t assume that - it’s a seriously massive collection - but thinking of how far back years suggests, and how Peter is just twenty-two, he can’t help but ask for clarification.

“How many years you talkin’?”

“Uhh…” Peter trails off, seeming to really think about it. Bucky can see the moment he finds the answer, and his expression closes.  “...several.”

Bucky decides to wager a guess. He doesn’t really know why he wants to know this answer, but he thinks it might help him understand just how into kink Peter is.

“Sixteen?”

Peter whines. “Jamie.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Fifteen?”

Peter pulls away a bit to cover his face with his hands, and he whines unintelligibly this time.

“Christ, it wasn’t younger than thirteen, was it?”

Peter shakes his head. “N-No, I--” His words are muffled by his palms,  “I was fourteen.”

Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Peter can’t lie for shit, so Bucky can tell he isn’t just appeasing him. 

Then it hits him just how long Peter’s been fantasizing about this kind of sex.

“You’re really into this stuff, huh?”

Peter burrows further into his hands. Bucky rubs his back, and considers his next words carefully.

“If you want, we could explore some of the tamer stuff you have in there.” 

Peter drops his hands from his face and he looks excited for all of two seconds. Then, his expression falls. “None of it’s… tame. I mean, I guess--” Peter cuts himself off to cough, wincing as he tries to get the words out, “uh, im-impact play isn’t, you know, hardcore, I guess.”

“Spanking and stuff?”

“...and stuff.” Peter says with a flush. 

“We’ll start with spanking,” Bucky laughs, adding just in case, “if you want to.”

But it wasn’t necessary, because Peter brightens immediately. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” 

Peter smiles wide, and Bucky can’t help but return it with one of his own.

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: One more chapter! You guys are a dream, thank you so much for reading ❤️

Warnings: mentions of marijuana, derogatory terms for homosexuality, blood/gore and death/dying

Word Count: 5690

—————————————

Eight: All Die Young

“Um… I think besides everything with Ricky… the night of homecoming was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life.”

“With Bradley Lewis’s death.”

“Yeah. I-I mean, it started off as a normal day, a-a great day, actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awaking to a text from Stanley Barber, informing me that he was driving us to school, was a heavenly sight. Almost as heavenly as waking up beside the boy, himself in the near future. Grabbing my phone off its charger, I rolled onto my stomach and texted him back, my feet giddily kicking in the air. It amazed me how he could change my entire demeanor within seconds. I could go from a sniveling baby to a hopping and skipping lovesick fool when it comes to Stan. And I don’t even think he meant to have this much of an effect on me. I wondered if I had the same effect on him? I never really paid much attention to it, just accepted the fact that he would never reciprocate my feelings. Even during that time, I had no idea if we were a couple or just adoring each other. It didn’t matter, though. Stan was finally looking at me the way I wanted him to.

Jacob stared at me with unease as I skipped down the stairs, prancing my way into the kitchen for breakfast. “Mom, (Y/N)’s being weird.” He called out as he opened the front door to leave. Pam hushed him before handing me a plate of food.

“Hush, now, Jacob. Let her be in a good mood for once.”

“For once?” I frowned and sat myself down. Pam smiled over at me and gingerly kissed my forehead as I began eating.

“Yes. For once.”

When I finished eating and readying myself for the day, I received a text message from Stan.

Stan: I’m outside

Me: omw

Pocketing my cell, I called out to my family before stepping outside to see Stan in his car with a grin on his face. “Good morning, lovely!” He called out above his music as I strode up to the vehicle, climbing inside. I gave him my usual greeting before leaning over and kissing his cheek. He chuckled and waited for me to strap myself in before riding down our street. It was clear he was in a good mood, because he let me pick the music for the ride. As Waterloo by ABBA flowed out of the drawn-down car windows, I felt the comforting warmth of his hand latch onto mine. Our combined hands shook to the beat of the music as we happily sang the words to the song. Remember when I said I had only been this happy one other time? This was even better. There were never any consequences to being with Stan, never a dull moment, never a hint of doubt between our bond. I’d never been as close to anyone as I was to him. And now at last, we were even closer in more ways than one.

Stepping onto the school campus, we were no longer strangers. I still walked within my bubble, and I probably always will throughout my life, but from now on there was no need to allow Stan inside. He was planning to be beside me through it all. He wasn’t afraid to be alienated with me any longer, we were to embrace it together. We were going to allow the stares, the whispers, the rumors. Allow them to act as water on a duck’s back. I was proud of him, I was proud of us. Even as I felt the dark brown glare of Ricky Berry trail after the two of us, watching our bashful and lovestruck glances throughout classes, the way we held hands in the halls. I was certain he got the message that I was no longer his, despite the forceful way he claimed me the previous week.

At lunch, I was just about to declare my spot in line when I felt a gentle hold on my arm. Stan, with a warm grin, pulled me away and walked us to an empty table. “Um, Stan, I’d kinda like to eat lunch today.”

“I know, Nugget,” He held up two brown sacks. “I made lunch for the both of us.” The way his grin grew prideful made my heart swell in affection. We sat across from each other as he slid the bag over to me.

“Awe, Stanley, you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to, though,” He shrugged and watched as I took each item out of the bag and carefully organized them. “So, about homecoming. I was thinking we could make a big deal out of it. If you want to.”

“I totally want to,” I nodded, eyes trained on my task. “What were you planning, beautiful?”

I didn’t miss the bashful blush tinting his cheeks when I snuck a glance up at him. “Uh… Well, I was thinking when I pick you up, we can take, like, a shitload of pictures. Like, just let Aunt Pam go at it. She’ll love it.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”

“And then after the dance, I wanna take you out to eat.”

“Really? Where to?”

“Nothing too fancy. You don’t like all that. I was driving around yesterday and saw this restaurant that specializes in their pasta,” I suddenly felt the tip of my nose being gently pinched. Looking up, Stan was playfully wiggling my nose with a goofy grin on his face. “I know how much you love pasta.”

“I do,” I laughed and swatted his hand away. “And after that? Are we robbing a bank and driving off into the night?”

“If only,” He wistfully sighed. “But alas, I’m afraid we’ll have to remain trapped within Brownsville until we’re old enough to run away.”

I gave a mischievous smirk. “The entire act of running away is rebellious. Why wait until we’re allowed?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t feel like running away,” We shared a laugh. “But in all seriousness, we go to my house and just chill. We can have a dance contest. Our last was a tie, remember?”

The antsy excitement rushed through my veins the closer the night approached. I was never one for making a scene about school dances, but this time was different. It was my senior year, I had Stan, Ricky was out of the picture. Or at least, he was for the next hour. After lunch, Stan walked me to photography class, the two of us hand-in-hand as we had been for the entire day. Approaching the door, he wished me a good class before leaning in and pecking my lips. Our fingertips lingered as he pulled away and continued to his own class. Feeling my burning cheeks, I turned to go into the room, but an arm blocked my path. “Hey, Zip.”

Inwardly groaning, I looked up at Ricky. His bruises were beginning to fade, the dark ring around his right eye taking its time to heal. I silently hissed at the sight of him. “What.”

“Listen, I just wanted to apologize. Brad talked to me the other day and… made me realize that what I did was really fucked up. Really, babe, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You’re so fucking lucky I haven’t called the police on you, Ricky-”

“Yes, I know,” He sighed, discreetly rolling his eyes. “And I really appreciate it. Gives me a chance to better myself, you know? Help you better yourself. And what better way to make up for what I did than to make homecoming the most magical night for you? Yeah? We still on for tonight?”

My eyes dangerously widened at his hopeful smile, his expression melting under my fiery stare. “Are you kidding me?! Hell no! You think I wanna be anywhere near you?!”

“(Y/N)-”

“Besides, I already have another date.” I shrugged and moved to duck under his arm, but he leaned against the doorframe to decline me access inside. I quickly backed away from him, my fear kicking in at his brash behavior.

“What, Stan The Faggot? You’re really going with that fucking twink when you could be going with me?” He laughed right in my face. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

“Don’t ever speak about Stanley that way. He’s the most kind-hearted person I’ve ever met and is an even better boyfriend than you’ll ever be to anyone-”

“Boyfriend?!” He cackled. “I knew it. How could I not? It was so obvious! You’re fucking crazy.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t see the way he dresses? He’s fucking weird, (Y/N). He’s a goddamn drug dealer. What is he gonna offer you? Huh? Free weed? Babe… Come on, you are so better off with me.”

He lightly shook his head with a smile of disbelief as I took out my phone. “I just remembered. You’re not supposed to be near me, talking to me, or even looking at me. I think Jacob would love to hear about this-”

“Fuck you.” Ricky hissed before stomping away, leaving me in an empty hallway that was filled with the ringing of the tardy bell not too long afterwards. At that point, I was just about sick of guys. I was irritable during gym class, running off my anger and letting it steam off my shoulders. When the coach told us we could stop, I took greedy gulps of air and trudged to a nearby bench to rest. As I plopped down, I noticed Syd and Dina walking together to the opposite side of the field. It was good to know they were to finally talk everything out. Now for her and Stan to make up…

I was thankful for a split second for the shadow that casted over the burning sun raining down on me, but huffed upon seeing who it was. Some guy from my math class stood before me. He was shirtless, displaying his six-pack and chest glistening with sweat. He beamed down at me with a suave smirk. “Hey, Zip.”

“Hey.”

“So… I know you and Ricky are… you know. So, since the dance is tonight-”

“Sorry, I already have a date.”

“Right,” He nodded slowly, beginning to back away. “I should’ve known. No worries.”

-------------------------------------------------

“And he just walked away?!” Stan laughed on our drive home from school. My hold on his hand tightened as I tried to hold in my own laugh.

“No, he ran away!” I snorted, triggering the increase of his laughter.

“What is that, the fourth guy today?”

“Don’t remind me.” I rolled my eyes as he pulled up to my house. Unbuckling myself, I froze at Stan’s intentuous stare. He reached over and grabbed my hand again, raising it to his lips.

“I expect you to dazzle everyone like you usually do.” He kissed my knuckles.

My breath hitched. “Of course. And I expect you to do better than me, like you usually do. What time should I be ready?”

“I’m picking you up at eight. On the dot.”

“On the dot, got it.” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. He returned it and tilted his head to try and deepen it, but I pulled away with a giggle. Stan watched in awe as I got out of the car, snatching up my backpack as I did. Waving him off, I turned and headed inside my house.

I had to look perfect. Not just for Stan, but for me. This was a new era of myself, I had shedded my skin and materialized as something beautiful. I had to showcase just how beautiful I’ve become. So, after my shower, I struck up a playlist and dolled myself up. Starting off with my hair, I simply pinned it up with white butterfly hair clips. My makeup was nothing special, other than the baby pink eyeshadow and the small application of glitter over it. To seal up the look, I added cherry lip gloss to give my lips a bit of a pop. I hoped Stan would appreciate it. My face burned at the thought of him tasting the cherry on my mouth. Backing away from my mirror before I exploded, I entered my closet. My dress was something I never thought I would ever wear. It matched my makeup in baby pink. An off-the-shoulder look that hugged my torso and flared out to the floor. I managed to zip it up myself before slipping on a pair of white heels. Turning to my reflection, I let out a breath.

I had never looked any more beautiful, I think. I remember gazing at my parents’ wedding photo as a child and wishing to look as beautiful as my mother one day. I wondered if she was looking down at me, proud of who I had become at that point. Gazing fondly down at the ring on my pinky, I blinked back the stinging of my tears.

Yeah, she’s proud.

An eager three knocks sounded at my door and I hurried to open it. Pam immediately teared up the moment her eyes settled on me, camera ready in her hand. “Oh, my baby… You look so gorgeous! Just like your mom!” She gushed. I could only chuckle as she took multiple pictures of me. Hearing a taunting laugh, I looked down the hall to see Jacob leaning against the wall, silently mocking his mother’s excitement. I kindly showed my middle finger to him, much to Pam’s disappointment. “Oh, come on. Now it’s in the picture! Jake, leave your sister alone!”

“Sorry, ma’am.” He feigned innocence and batted his eyelashes at me. I playfully sneered at him before David’s voice sounded from downstairs.

“(Y/N), Stan is here!”

Grabbing my phone, I checked the time. Eight o’clock. On the dot. That punctual bastard. Clutching my phone in my hand, I nervously made my way to the top of the stairs. Everyone was waiting for me at the bottom, including Stan. God, he looked so cute. He was wearing his baby blue suit, some sort of black and tan shirt beneath that oddly went well with the suit. Leave it to Stan to defy the laws of fashion. I could tell he paid extra care to his hair, the way it was styled perfectly for his curls to sit off to the left side of his forehead. I was sure I was grinning like a maniac as I descended the stairs, but Stan’s expression was the reason I was grinning. He looked absolutely astonished and at a loss for words. His jaw was dropped and eyes were bulging as he watched me walk closer to him. When I quietly greeted him, he couldn’t even respond. Great job, (Y/N), you broke him.

“How’d I do?” I whispered and hooked arms with him. At my touch, he snapped out of his haze and beamed at me.

“You certainly did not disappoint, lovely.”

“Awe, and you aren’t looking too bad yourself, beautiful.”

Pam squealed from the sidelines before rushing over to us. “Stanley, doesn’t she look stunning?”

“Absolutely, Aunt Pam.” He grinned at the older woman as she began taking photo after photo of us. We decided to indulge her and pose for each one. All the while, I felt a red hot glare from the side. Glancing its way, I noticed Jacob fuming at the sight of Stan and I hugged up on each other. His Big Brother Mode was going to activate the second Pam was done with us. To my horror, she finished sooner than I thought. As she excitedly showed our photos to David, I watched as Jacob slowly approached us. Just as he opened his mouth to spit some sort of threat towards the poor, unsuspecting Stan, I turned to the front door and flung it open.

“Well, we really have to go! We’re already late, you know.” I chuckled and gently shoved Stan out of the house.

“Oh! Yeah, of course!” Pam called out after us. “You two be careful out there! And have fun!”

“And (Y/N)-” Jacob began to add in a warning, but I waved him off, mouthing an ‘I know’ as Stan scrambled to hold the car door open for me. I quietly thanked him and climbed inside. The car ride to the dance was very pleasant. The hum of soft rock music fit the mood of our night as we quietly sang along. Stan found a parking spot rather quickly and leaned back in his seat after turning the car off. Bringing the visor down, I checked myself in the mirror, gently running my fingers over my white gold hoop earrings gifted to me by my dad for my previous birthday. They were pretty expensive and I hardly wore them, so why not? Hearing a click, I turned to see Stan lighting up a joint. After he took a hit, he looked my way and smiled, offering it to me. Without any hesitation, I joined him in a quick session. As I took my third hit, I felt his eyes on me.

“What?” I raised a brow and exhaled the smoke. His eyes shown in adoration.

“What a sight you are…”

“A sight? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’re sitting in my old-school car, looking like a goddess and smoking a joint. You’re so beautiful… Just perfection.”

“Jeez, maybe I should get dolled up to smoke more often.” I joked and handed it back to him. We shared a chuckle before Stan put the smoke out. He gave me a wink before getting out of the car and rounding it to let me out.

Our highs kicked in the moment we stepped into the gymnasium. Our clammy hands found each other as we walked further in. I let him lead me through the sea of dancing bodies and bouncing balloons, the two of us hitting them out of our way as we ended up near the bleachers. When we stopped, we overlooked the scene before us as I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Best theater in town, Stan.”

���Best theater in town, (Y/N),” He looked down at me with furrowed brows. “So, why aren’t you on stage?”

“I don’t perform without my co-star.”

“Well, in that case.” He took hold of both my hands and swung us around. At that, we let loose, broadcasting our best secret dance contest moves to anyone willing to watch. I thought it was perfect. The two outcasts, both outcasts for difference reasons, wildly dancing together away from everyone else. And yet, they were the life of the party. It was meant to be. My feet stung from the stomping and jumping I was doing in my heels, but I couldn’t care less.

“I fucking hate this song!” I joyfully shouted, eliciting a laugh from my date.

“Me, too!” From the sound of our laughter, it was clear the two of us were high. Three songs later, in the middle of my rounds of spinning, I felt Stan’s hands on my waist, attempting to stop me. When I did, my surroundings rotated around me and I leaned into him for support. Looking up, I saw Sydney awkwardly smiling at the both of us.

“Oh! Hey, Syd! I love your dress.” I smiled and gestured to her attire. Her smile widened.

“Thanks, (Y/N), y-you look great.”

“Awe, thanks.” I gushed and bashfully waved her off. My attention turned to Stan, who had a look of indifference on his face, but a hint of pain in his eyes. Sydney noticed it, too, and looked back at me.

“Uh… Can I borrow Stan for a second?”

“Go ahead.” I motioned. Stan stared at me for a second before following Syd onto the bleachers. I suddenly felt very out of place, so I decided to keep my hands busy and get myself some punch. Thankfully, I found Dina there, pouring herself a cup. When she noticed me, she quickly set it back down on the table and reached her arms out for a hug. “Dina, you look so good!”

“Are you kidding me?!” We engulfed each other in a tight hug before pulling away. “You look fucking amazing! You always have to show out, huh?”

“I try…” I lowered my voice. As the two of us talked, lonely guys would come up to us and ask to dance, but we would hold hands and politely decline. After the third walked away, Dina turned to me.

“Hey, so… In detention… The thing that Jenny said about Ricky. Was that true…?” The hesitancy in her voice made me deeply inhale as I nodded in confirmation. Instantly, her eyes welled up with tears as her hands covered her mouth. “(Y/N)... I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would’ve been there for you.”

“No, no, Dina!” I quickly took her hands into mine, my heart wrenching. “It’s okay! I’m okay…”

“You’re okay? H-How are you okay?” She frowned and blinked back her tears. A warm smile twitched its way onto my face.

“Stan… he’s been making everything better…” I admitted. Dina’s face lit up before she hugged me all over again.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)! I’m so happy for you! God, you fucking deserve it, girl!” She exclaimed as I hugged back, quietly laughing at her excitement. Our hug was cut short, when Dina caught sight of our dates heading toward us. I turned to them and happily watched as they approached us, their hands lazily clasped together. Sydney held out Stan’s hand over to mine and I gladly took over. “Stan!” Dina grinned at him as he allowed me to lean against his side.

“Dina, you look, um… you look like a Christmas tree.” He awkwardly complimented as I rolled my eyes. Dina looked down at herself.

“Thanks, dude.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded before his eye caught something. “Oh, god. Whitaker’s still watching us.” He sighed. We directed our gaze to our principal, who indeed was standing across the gym, arms folded and a piercing gaze on the four of us.

“It’s probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in his entire life.” Sydney crossed her arms, as well, as we all grinned. Stan leaned forward and placed his other hand over ours as he hummed.

“I don’t know, guys. I mean, we’re wanted criminals. Why are we out here in the open? Exposed. First rule of the heist is split the loot and split the fuck up, right?”

“We don’t have any loot, Stan.” I raised a brow in false confusion as Dina smirked at me.

“Yeah, all we did was disrespect this fine institution.”

“And disrespect ourselves.” Sydney finished, Stan humming again before we all shared a soft laugh. Stan’s smile disappeared as a slow song came on. I barely recognized it, but he sure seemed to know it. His free hand reached up to cover his eyes.

“Oh, no. On principle, I just- I can’t,” He groaned and began to free himself from my grasp. “Sorry, this playlist is all over the map. I’ll- I’ll be back.” He squeezed between Syd and I to leave, but I followed right behind. He was nearly at the DJ table, when I managed to stop his striding.

“Stan! Stan, wait!” I laughed and turned him to me. “Come on, I wanna dance to this.”

“(Y/N), I have to enlighten that poor DJ over there.”

“After this song?” I pouted and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t care about the music. I’ll dance to anything with you.”

“That is a lie, but fine,” He sighed before his hands rested on my waist. Our dance started off with timid shuffling, Stan clearly not used to slow dancing. I chuckled and directed his eyes away from his shoes.

“Stan, it’s just swaying, I promise.” I whispered. He gave me an incredulous look before moving with me to the music. Of course, since it’s Stan, he had to add in a few spins that had us stumbling. We laughed aloud when we almost toppled over, and we earned a few weird stares, but we didn’t give a shit. Just as it seemed we were getting the hang of it, a voice that rang throughout the gym interrupted the song and dance.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr File announced from the stage. “If I may have your attention. Stop talking. Look up here please.”

“Thank god, they stopped the song.” Stan whispered in my ear as we turned to the stage. I playfully and gently hit his chest as our teacher continued.

“It is my privilege to introduce your homecoming king and queen, Jeff Butters and Julie Frasheski!”

As the homecoming royalty hopped on stage, we all clapped and cheered for them, Stan and I exchanging looks that said ‘I have no idea who these people are’. “What up, Westinghouse!” Jeff exclaimed into the microphone, his queen by his side, the both of them wearing sashes and crowns. “Yeah! Where my boys at? Whoo! Where do I begin? I wanna thank my mom for meeting my dad-”

His amusing speech was cut off by Bradley Lewis running onstage and clamping his hand over the mic. “Listen up!” He yelled as the feedback screeched. Our smiles dropped as he swayed, clearly drunk. As Mr File tried to take the mic from him, he thrashed about and moved away. “Give me a second! I would like to take this moment to talk about something very important that affects everyone here.”

“What the fuck…?” I muttered and watched as he turned to the middle of the crowd.

“Sydney Novak!” His exclamation sent a flinch through Stan and I, and I felt him tense under my hold on his arm. “Hey, Sydney! Raise your hand! Raise your hand! Give a wave so everybody can see you!” When she didn’t comply, he moved on, proceeding to pull out Sydney’s supposed diary and flipping through it, exposing all of her secrets to the whole school. He told about how at Ricky’s party, she had kissed Dina upstairs. As he spoke, he hopped off the stage and pushed past people to stalk closer to his victim, the path to her and Dina made clear. I could see the panic in Sydney’s eyes. My blood boiled at the derogatory term he used for her sexuality, but Stan was just about ready to pop. His jaw was severely clenched and his face was flushed red in anger. I felt him move forward, but kept an arm in front of him. But there was no holding him back after the next thing Brad exposed. “And my god, don’t even get me started on the daddy issues on this one. I mean, it’s fucking worse than Zip’s! And we all know about that!” That comment punched me straight in the gut and Stan ripped his arm from my hold, pushing his way through the crowd. “Everyone in Sydney’s life thinks that she’s a piece of shit. And I mean everyone!” His cackling was interrupted when Stan broke through everyone.

“Hey, man! Leave her alone!” He went to stand in front of his friend, but Brad immediately swung, his fist connecting with Stan’s face and sending him to the ground, unconscious. My breathing stuttered before I wordlessly shoved everyone out of the way, trying to get to his limp form. There were a few people separating us that wouldn’t budge. I growled as Brad continued, shaking his fist from the blow.

“But that is not even the weirdest thing about Sydney… Novak,” He took a few steps forward, and I watched as Sydney wiped a tear from her eye. This whole situation was fucked. “Get this. Sydney claims that she has-”

To this day, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but Brad’s words were cut short when his blood and brains exploded onto everyone near him. Including me. I heard nothing but white noise the second the blood platter smacked into my hair, onto my face, my dress, my shoes. Brad’s headless body fell limp to the ground, the remaining of his brains spilling out from where his head should have been. His head should’ve been there… His head should be there! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak. My eyes were glued to the bloodied corpse on the ground. I was sure everyone was screaming and running around, but I couldn’t do the same. I saw shaking Dina’s form, trembling as she moved, but my focus snapped right back to the fucking corpse. I should’ve moved. I should’ve screamed. I should’ve ran. I should have been crying and gagging and panicking, but I just… I couldn’t. I don’t know what the fuck.

“(Y/N)!” I felt a hand pulling me by the arm, but I was in such a state of shock that I blindly let whoever drag me out of the school- no, the crime scene. I felt the cool air nip at my exposed skin, but I still couldn’t have been bothered to react to anything. It wasn’t until I felt a piece of bloody meat slip down my face and disappear into my dress that I could breathe again. I let out a blood-curdling scream as I felt it run down my skin.

“It’s in my dress! It’s touching me!” I cried. The mess of curls in front of me whipped around to face me. Through my teary-eyed vision, I could make out that it was Stan. He was awake, he was fine. But I wasn’t.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?!”

“It’s in my fucking dress!” I gagged as I felt it run down my stomach. “Stan, a piece of his fucking brain-”

He firmly grabbed me by the shoulders and rushed me to his car. I hyperventilated as he placed me in the passenger seat. Before closing the door, he reached into my dress from the bottom and slid his hand from my knees, past my thighs and planted his palm on my stomach. He gagged when his hand touched the meat, grabbing hold of it and ripping his hand from my dress, throwing the flesh to the ground. Stumbling a bit, he shut my door and rounded the car to drive. I had to ride with my window down, letting the wind blow against my face to prevent the contents in my stomach from resurfacing into Stan’s car. He drove all around town, calling out for Sydney. He would glance over at me every once and awhile when I would gag or groan, but that was it.

What a sight I was.

Do I look beautiful now, Stan?

-------------------------------------------------

When Stan decided to give up on the search for Sydney, he sped us to his house. The sirens of police cars and ambulances echoed within my empty mind. But the moment I left the car, I hurled my guts up into Stan’s yard. He caught me before I could fall and rubbed my back until I emptied my stomach. Then when I was done, I did the same for him.

I had no concept of time, I can’t remember how long we were throwing up in his front lawn, but when we were done, he guided me inside the house and down to his room. The second he let go of me to retrieve new clothes, my entire body trembled and shook uncontrollably. “S-Stan… S-S-Stan.” I whimpered out. He returned to me with clothes tucked under one of his arms. He held me by the elbow and guided me to his bathroom, sitting me down on the toilet lid before starting up the shower for me.

“Nugget? Hey, do you want me to-”

“N-No.” I don’t know why I said that. I needed him in that room with me. He was patient enough to look away as I undressed, nearly falling a few times, and stepped into the shower. He left the door slightly ajar, so I was sure he could hear my sobbing as I sat down, letting the water rinse me of Bradley Lewis’s blood and guts.

I returned to Stan in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He stood from his bed and carefully watched the way I moved. The way I slowly blinked and walked two steps at a time toward him. Silently, he lifted his covers for me to lay down. I stared at him emptily for a few beats before complying, my back facing him. I felt his lips on my neck and gladly welcomed the kiss before he whispered into my ear, “I’m gonna shower now, okay? I won’t be long.”

“Go ahead.” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. As Stan showered, my shaking hands reached up and freed my locks from my hair clips. I tried to keep my crying near-silent as I did so, but I wasn’t too sure how loud I was being. Within time, he had returned and laid down beside me in bed. And from the warmth I felt when his back touched mine, I could tell he was shirtless. It was painfully silent as we both unevenly breathed. I bit my fingers to keep myself from crying again. Everything about me felt unbalanced. I wanted to be beaten even. It’s what I deserved for not taking care of myself.

“Hey.” Stan’s whisper broke my train of thought.

“H-Hey…”

“You asleep?”

“No… You?”

“No.” He muttered as I felt the bed dip when he turned around to spoon me. His leg draped over mine as his arms pulled me closer. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he deeply inhaled. I closed my eyes and willed myself to ask the question brewing in my mind,

“Do you have any idea what the fuck happened? B-Brad just… h-he fucking…”

“I know,” He murmured against my skin, his hold tightening as well as his throat. I could tell by the way he choked on his breath. “I… I’ll explain it another day. N-Not tonight.”

As we fell asleep an hour later, I knew he’d never explain it.

—————————————

Taglist: @nate-isnt-great @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @magicalgothpandamaker

[angelsswirl]

Petrichor

Eight

"I've lost heart. The forest's scarred. I hear no birds, just TVs and cars."

It had been seven weeks. You knew because you counted. You counted like you were a prisoner waiting for their release day. You counted like you were a seven year old tallying sheep in their head to help them fall asleep.

You counted seven weeks, two days, 5 hours, 37 minutes, and twelve...thirteen...fourteen seconds since you last spoke to either of them.

You were sick to say the least.

Well, face to face you should say.

Jisoo spoke to you once a week out of obligation. Only to organize days that you hung out with Lia.

Chaeyoung would respond to your texts occasionally. Probably when she felt a bit too bad for not answering your calls.

Somehow, in the middle of all that. You had managed to finish your 3rd year of grad. You're not sure how. You'd been working on autopilot.

You were tired. Exhausted even. And you're not even sure why.

Your phone rung. You'd hate to admit that you had hoped it was one of them. Luckily, you don't have to as your hopes were admittedly dashed upon looking at caller id.

It's your father.

"Hey, Kiddo." You decided not to overthink the dejection in his voice. He better choose his next words carefully because you don't think you can take much more of anything really.

"Hey, dad. What's up?"

"You mind coming down to Mount Sinai? It's your mom."

You must have murdered someone really important in a past life. Surely, that is the only explanation for why you would deserve any of this.

The rest of your afternoon is performed using the ever allusive autopilot feature of your brain.

You stared at your phone for a few minutes after getting dressed. You can't quite remember if you used it. You doesn't feel any worse than you did before so you assmumed you didn't.

You navigated the streets of New York and then the hospital quickly. You had been here a couple of times before.

You caught up with your father and younger brother. Your father doesn't look as concerned as he probably could, and that served to make both siblings feel better.

Kameron, your younger brother, looked about the same as when you saw him last. Which was 2 years ago. He was in his third year of undergraduate at Yale, and rarely left campus. You wondered when he would have found the time to come back up from Connecticut.

"They just took Maria back to emergency surgery. There were a lot of big words that I honestly think the doctor made up but what I think he was saying it was her kidney's again." George shrugged helplessly.

You just nodded.

"Hey, are you okay? What's going on?"

You turned around with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing here?"

"You asked me to come."

~•~

Can you come meet me at Mount Sinai? It's my mom.

I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm stuck at work.

~•~

Can you come meet me at Mount Sinai? It's my mom.

Omw

~•~

"Oh."

Apparently you had used your phone.

"Thank you, Jisoo." You sniffed.

Lia is clinging to Jisoo's neck sleepily.

You gestured vaguely to the waiting room a few feet away, "You can go sit in there. I'll be there in a bit."

Jisoo looked as though she wanted to say something further, but instead decided against it. She shuffled to the waiting room. Lia beginning to rouse from her apparent sleep deprivation.

You're true to your word. Twenty minutes later, you sat heavily in an uncomfortable, slightly outdated chair. Your face immediately found the palms of your hands.

"Thank you for coming."

Jisoo shrugged, Lia grumbled at being moved, "It isn't a big deal. You needed someone so I came."

You, only half listening, nodded slowly.

You both sat in silence. The general hustle and bustle of the hospital fluttering around you.

Jisoo still looked as though she wanted to say something.

You eventually spoke up. You stared straight ahead into the empty room. "I've been so fucking tired recently. Like for no goddamn reason. And tmi but, I keep going to the bathroom like every half hour, and it's not like I've been drinking more than I normally do. I hope I don't have what my mom has."

Jisoo's eyebrows knitted together. She thought back to something you weren't privy to. She grimaced slightly, "No, I don't think you have what your mom has." She doesn't elaborate further.

"I know you probably don't want to here this, but I'm so sorry. To both of you. I met you guys coincidentally on the same day, and I liked you so much, and it all got out of control so quickly." You decided you were all cried out at this point. You shrugged one of your shoulders and shook your head.

"I get it-"

"You do?"

"No, but it's okay. I'm still a bit upset, but I think that's just the alpha being stubborn."

You nodded and took a deep breath.

"Kiddo?" You turned your head in the direction of your father. He gestured for you to come to him.

Your dad had exactly two emotions. 'Just happy to be here', and 'mildly uncomfortable with what's currently happening'. Those two emotions generally caused his face to do the exact same thing, so he was very hard to read.

"The doc just came back for an update. Your mom is stable and everything is going well. Still going to be in the OR for a couple more hours." It was 'Just happy to be here'.

"Did he say what happened?"

George shrugged, "I'm sure he would if I asked, but I feel better not knowing."

"That's fair."

"Okay, just wanted to let you know. You can go back to your girlfriend now."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Yeah alright. Anyway, love you, kiddo. I'll come get you when she's ready and awake."

You blushed heavily.

~•~

"Now you said there were two. Where's the other one?" Your mom inquired. She had gotten out of surgery about two hours before. You had urged Jisoo to go home in the meantime. Lisa and Jennie were on their way, and Jisoo definitely needed to get Lia to bed at a decent hour.

"She got caught up at work. No big deal." You shrugged. You felt a bit bad for Chaeyoung. Your mom was most definitely going to judge her for this.

"I beg to differ, but quite frankly I don't have the energy to rant about it."

"Thank god."

Maria slapped you lightly on the hand.

It's then that your phone rings.

"See, she's calling now." You exclaimed. Your mother rolled her eyes.

"Hey."

"Hi...I'm sorry I couldn't be there. Some days I really hate my job. But nevermind that, is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything is cool now. My mother is just very dramatic and never does anything half assed." Maria swatted you again.

"Okay, that's great!"

"I'm sorry, Chaeyoung-"

"You don't have to apologize. It's okay. Um, I'll talk to you again...later." Rosé hung up quickly. You tried to hide your pained frown from your mother.

You didn't succeed.

You turned back to your mother. Her lips pursed. Lisa, who had been sitting uncharacteristically quietly, raised an eyebrow.

You decided to keep quiet.

Unfortunately, it seemed their was only one way to ever get back to somewhere close to where you had been with both Chaeyoung and Jisoo.

You had to finally make a decision.

Fuck.

[pinkyoath]

i come from school, feeling... alright. its not like it was the best school day ever but it went pretty good, im not gonna complain about it. blank comes up to me n starts telling me that i should participate more in parties, that they really want me to go n have some fun. i just led on the conversation n told her i would think about it, yet i have no idea if i really meant those words i said. ive been thinking about it lately, to just open up a bit n get out there but at the same time i just feel like its a weird thing to actually do n im still not sure if i wanna take that step rn. anyways omw home i started thinking about it n i wondered if i really should tell my parent about this. since i tell them pretty much everything that happens at school i guess i didnt see nothing bad w telling them about it. i was first not gonna talk about it. i had planned that i was gonna keep it to myself n if a party came up i would say that i had gone bc of oomf that is gonna be there, that probably will be true, next time it happens. but i have no idea what came up to me when i started talking to them, i just felt such a burden on my shoulders n i felt the need of telling them, even though i hadnt even done shit? idk. i told them n they didnt react negatively, as such. they just told me that if i went to one of those parties i would have to take a lot of care n all that basic shit talk they do. agreeing w her, of course i wouldnt do anything they told me not to do. im not that type anyways. time passes by, probs 15 mins max, or even less, n they tell me that the dog needs a shower. i felt pretty good so i decided to take him to shower. when i was drying the dog they came n started arguing that we didnt have blank n we needed it, ofc, for a meal. i remembered using 3 of them previous night but they kept on ranting about that there were 9 left if so n how they just "disappeared" if nobody used them. i told them that i hadnt been eating any lately, blank came up n said they hadnt eaten any lately, which made no sense since theyre LITERALLY the only ones that it blank on the daily. i guess they just decided to bail on this issue n pretend they didnt do shit to get the blame. of course. thats one of the things that annoy me most of the time. they never own up to their things n if they dont have the balls to actually confront my parent then they act as if nothing happened. obviously making it look like i am the one that did it. which annoys me, as i implied. i volunteered to go n buy some, i felt generous n i thought it would maybe make my parent feel a bit better today after all the shit they have made us go through today. i went out, bought some blank, came back n blank looks at me n i knew what was happening. they were still complaining about shit. i came in, put the blank on the kitchen counter n went to my room to put on some comfy clothes to wear at home before i did anything else. then my parent decided to annoy me since i just came. i hadnt even had my fresh air for max 15 mins when they came up to me n started complaining about the shit i left after showering the dog. dude. i shower the dog for u, i go out to buy some blank for the meal, i couldve SKIPPED all that shit, done it tomorrow or whatever n all u have to say to me is "look at all the shit u left here" n started messing things around. i hadnt even put on my HOME CLOTHES n i told them that, but they insisted that it didnt matter. that i should be more organized n shit. long story short, they tell us that we are gonna end up like these people here. no offense but i dont want to. that we will end up being alcoholics, drugs addicts, whatever the fuck, not be successful or shit bc of the way of our living. im not saying being successful means happiness but dude. we are 14 n 17 n im pretty sure we have a whole fucking life ahead of us. we are just starting this fucking life n u dont have to be so harsh on us. i get it u wanna complain but it can get mentally tiring. it can fuck u up in many other ways too, theres a limit line man. i just have no idea if i can trust her w what i told her today if they keep on talking that we are gonna end up like alcoholics. i was so close to fucking crying today. it has been tiring already. i want to sleep. 

[xbostonsfinestx-blog]

Jade

:Still on for tonight?: Jade and Layla had been trying to get together for what seemed like months, but was only in fact ten days. This may have been their longest separation in years, to which Jade placed the blame on the adult lives they both had been hurled in to. It wasn’t long before a response was displayed on the telephone screen in Jade’s hand, confirming their plan to meet up that evening and try to play catch up with one another. A slight smile crossed her lips as she disabled the backlight of her phone, slipping it into her coat pocket as she emerged from the office building. ‘The chill in the air’ was far colder than a chill in her opinion, the wind seeming to cut through her heavy coat, prompting a grumble to her lips. I was meant to live in Florida. She complained within the confines of her own mind, clearing the last of the steps in front of the FBI Headquarters: Boston Division. Just as she got to the last step, her name was called out somewhere behind her. Kerrigan! Kerrigan! You’re gonna want to see this! She paused and turned around, looking up to find before her an agent from the organized crime unit. She gave a nod of her head before going back up the stairs and following him into the building as he started to fill her in. We might be on to something. We have five other unsolved murder cases that have the same makings as the Savastano case. Jade entered the unit with the other agent just behind her, coming face to face with the images on the smart board. “We’re talking 1993 on these as well?” She asked, turning to the man beside her who nodded to her question. “We need those files.”

:Running late, but I’ll be there.: A promise that Jade was not yet sure she could uphold, but the intent was there. The agent before her hung up the phone, shaking his head as his facial features gave away that the answer on the other end of that phone was not going to assist them. Don’t shoot the messenger here. Two of the files are gone, misplaced, damaged, whatever excuse they are giving today when the files are bought out. The other three will be here in a few hours’ time. Jade leaned back in her chair, her head falling at the top of the chair, looking up to the ceiling in physical display of her frustration. For the last eight months, she had been working to connect the Savastano murder to that of the Vinici Crime Family head, Santino Vinici. Jade couldn’t be straight with those that she worked with concerning the fact that her mother was the Savastano case. She could not implicate her father by stating that she had an eye witness to the murder as she knew she would then lose her father as well. Since working in this unit, Jade had learned the world her mother and father were a part of, so much so she could have walked into it herself. I can bring the files by your place later tonight if you don’t want to wait until morning. The suggestion brought Jade to lift her head and stare at him, shaking her head no. “It’s fine. Just call me when they’re here and I’ll come up and grab them.” She rose from her chair, replacing the layers and heading back out of the unit again. Have a good evening, Kerrigan.

Though she should have been out of there a half hour before, she was out now, and there was no going back for the moment. She hadn’t seen Layla in a week and a half. She hadn’t seen Orion in a few days either. She hadn’t seen Cael in nearly twenty four hours. The only three people in the entire universe that she felt comfortable with, and she had been without for far too long, faking her way through a grown up world where she was younger than most in her profession. Her father’s hand at play there, assisting her along her way at every turn, without her ever knowing. A half hour later, she was parked outside of her apartment building, going up the stairs to her floor and making a quick change into something a little less professional than the pant suit she was wearing at the moment. An alert sounded on her phone, a reminder she had set for herself earlier that day. Call Orion. If anyone ever knew that she had to put these types of alerts on her phone, they’d surely think her insane. The fact was, since making the move to the FBI’s organized crime unit, her brain had been a sea of information that had to be pulled forth at a moment’s notice, thus pushing off her entire life within her mind. The alerts were necessary. Around the same time every day, she would make the call. She had her reasons, though she would never disclose them out loud.

It was March 5, 2009, a Thursday evening around 6:30, when she picked up the landline phone on the wall in the kitchen of the Kerrigan apartment. “Hey, it’s me.” She never had to say who ‘me’ was. Her voice gave her away every single time. “I need to ask you something, but seriously if you aren’t down with it, I’m totally fine and it’s not a big deal at all.” She twisted the phone cord around her finger, nervous beyond words as she heard him respond back to her, prompting her to ask her question. “So. Prom. I wasn’t going to go, but Allison says I’ll regret it if I don’t, so she’s kind of making me go?” Her voice seemed unsure as she continued on to explain how her mother figure, who was only ever referred to by Jade as Allison, was pushing her to go. “I guess what I’m saying is, would you go to prom with me and I’ll owe you, so big.” Just over a month later, on April 10, 2009, Orion and Jade did just that, as friends. Jade had been crushing on Orion at that point for a couple of years, but it was not her intention by asking him to prom. Truth was, she could not handle the idea of physical contact from anyone, at all, aside from Cael, Layla, and Orion. Outside of that, no, leaving the only person she could ask to go with her to be Orion. That night was the first night that Orion and Jade had spent any significant amount of time one on one with one another and what they found was that it was okay. It was something they wanted to do more often, and they did. It would take them three years before they would call it what surely Cael and Layla already knew it to be, and made their relationship official.

After disconnecting the line, she pressed and held her home button, speaking to Siri. “Siri, remind me April 2 to set something up for April 10.” Siri’s voice broke through the silent apartment, announcing Here’s your reminder for April 2 at 9 am. Would you like to confirm this now? Jade responded “Yes” to which Siri confirmed. She tossed the phone to her bed as she reached behind her to zip up the back of her dress. A half hour later, she was out the door, looking nothing like the agent she was by day, and a lot more like a woman ready to enjoy a few hours with her best friend who was more like a sister than anything else. :OMW!: She sent the text as she gave her car a moment to warm up before heading off to the bar where the two were meant to meet up just a few blocks drive from her apartment building. A short time later, she was walking into the bar, easily spotting her blonde friend, which prompted a smile to her face that was only ever evident when in the presence of Cael, Layla, or Orion. “I am terribly sorry for being late,” she stated as she approached the bar, taking her perch on the barstool beside Layla. “Work.” A one-worded explanation which had been the reason for most every apology she had to issue over the last six months or so. She never discussed the details of just what it was she was working on, but those closest to her knew her mission in life since her eighteenth birthday when she was told of her mother and the events that had led to her death. Since that day, she made every professional move to position herself in the exact place she was in this day in time. Her mission; to take down the man who had gunned down her mother and finally offer her aging father with peace and freedom once the organization was dismantled, all of which made possible by the fact there was no paper trail connection between herself and her past of Giada Savastano.

With a nod of her head, she made her standard order to the bartender behind the bartop before turning all of her attention once more to Layla. “When did it all get so complicated?” She asked the rhetorical question that she often did. There was still a large part of her that felt as if she were still a seventeen or eighteen year old who wanted to spend time with the friends she regarded as family, sleep until noon, stay out all night, and live her life; yet they were caught up in the cycle of professionalism and obligation that always left them fighting for time together. “I know. It’s always been complicated.” She stated in answering her own question as the beer was placed before her. “Thank you,” she stated, lifting the glass to near her lips. “I need simple.” She complained as she tilted her glass back, eyeing Layla, knowing the same statement could be true for her. As she lowered her glass, wrapping both hands to rest around the cold beverage, she leaned her head to the side, looking to her with a nod. “Alright. You first.” She prompted Layla to play catch up first, then she would take a turn at the same. Layla INTRODUCTION: DUALITY “The tendency of the human mind is to see the world with a ‘dualistic’ view that describes everything through comparisons: good and bad, pain and happiness, beauty and ugliness, rich and poor.”-Gvalwa Dokhampa
 A tiny and hushed moan passes through the fullness of Layla Monroe’s plump lipstick stained mouth as she groggily looks over the red ledger splayed out before her upon the antique mahogany partner’s desk. With the base of her palm she wipes the remnants of a troubled sleep from her droopy lids. “It’s too early for this,” she grumbles. Layla sinks into the high back leather chair cursing her boss and uncle for leaving the books in such a state over the past couple of weeks. Honestly, she has no logic for being aggravated with him; it’s not his fault. The accountant hired to run the books for the gambling house and escort service, Róisín Dubh (The Dark Rose), was caught skimming off the top. It was a big mistake on the man’s part--no one messes with the Irish mob’s money. 
 
Being the assistant to her Uncle Donal Murphy meant the task now fell on her shoulders to manage the books… at least until he finds a suitable replacement. For a moment she just stares at it slightly overwhelmed by the task at hand. Her real frustrations stemming from domestic issues and the strain of her dual lifestyles. Her lover Declan stumbled in not too long after she herself had smelling of whiskey and another woman’s perfume. A fight ensued and unable to face the tears glazing her cyan hues he stormed out. Where he is she knows not... Unpredictable and marching to the beat of his own drum; Declan could easily be in yet another woman’s bed, doing something shady for the boss man, or drinking himself into a stupor over his guilt. Usually she would be consumed with concern, but Layla had more important things to think about other than what trouble he is in or where he is sticking his dick as of late. He always came home anyway... she might question his fidelity, but his love never.  

Aside from that she has found herself in quite the predicament concerning her work, familial obligations and personal relationships. Since coming back from France at 19, she’s been balancing two different lifestyles; Kennedy and student by day, Murphy and criminal entrepreneur by night. "We all live a life of duality. No matter what you try to tell yourself. The trick is... learning to adjust to the blinding contrast." A hint of wisdom often hidden behind feigned confusion resonates. "I personally adore the contra..." The words of one Ella Flynn, escort and ‘agent provocateur’, echo within Layla Monroe’s head repeatedly. Little did the redheaded minx know her one simple statement would stick with Layla for nearly four years later. The devil is in the duality most certainly for one Layla Monroe Kennedy. 
 
A dull gray overcast light is pushing past the sky light in the office--soon it will be dark. Slowly she turns her head to catch the time on the antique clock hanging across the room. “Great...” she groans as she props herself up on her elbows. She hadn’t even slept the night before due to Declan. She needs some time to decompress… relieve all the stress from her dual existence--have a drink and spend some time with one of the only people she knows how to relax around. A night out with her best friend Jade is just what the proverbial doctor has ordered. Come Hell or high water, nothing would get in the way of the much needed girl time. 
 
CURRENT: GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN
 
“Friends are a strange, volatile, contradictory, yet sticky phenomenon. They are made, crafted, shaped, molded, created by focused effort and intent. And yet, true friendship, once recognized, in its essence is effortless. Best friends are formed by time.”-Vera Nazarian The scene is set; a vast and darkened skyline paints the backdrop for a thumbnail moon and the subtle flicker of stars. Diminished by the sudden arrival of rain clouds and the glow of city lights. A cacophony of sound, any sound imaginable, echos within the city walls; it rides the coast, smog and light trails, whipping around corners and dodging cracked wood and crumbling brick. Just a compilation of phonetic chorus and apparatus roar--a sleepless, overpopulated city trying to survive the horde. The shadows twist and turn, grow ominously within alleyways and unlikely venues.  

Busy streets and familiar sidewalks suddenly become ambiguous and quite duplicitous. The dirt and grime, trash littering the streets no longer offensive to the eye, but detailed props compelling the audience. The only impediment to instinct is the electric surge rippling through the air, taunting the senses and altering thought. And no matter where one turns; there’s neon lights slicing through the dark, open doors, and vice ready to greet them. The constant movement and flow of energy, it’s just like a heart thumping and pumping blood to the organs. The city streets are the veins and vessels, the structures are bone and mind--marrow and thought. The lights and sounds are the neurons and brainwaves.  
The city is alive and The Randy Shandy in downtown Boston, MA is the stage. Layla Monroe sits quietly at the bar, lost in thought once again as she sips on a stout mixed drink called a Sidecar. She all but expects Jade to run a little late, no harm and no foul, the woman has a high demand job. Something Layla more than just simply understands--she can relate. It’s strange the curveballs life can throw at a person. If someone were to ask Layla a few years ago if she’d be where she is now and Jade as well as her brother where they are… She would’ve answered with something much different. Granted, it all had to be in the cards because now she can’t imagine Jade or Orion being anything but law enforcement and together for that matter.  
Some girls would've been put off or even pissed off if their best friend hooked up with their brother--not Layla. If anything, she takes comfort in knowing they have one another off and on the job. How could she not be happy with the two people she loves and trusts the most being together… taking care of each other… watching each others backs. When a person has so little family or dependable ties, it’s important to see things in a positive way. No matter what comes Layla’s way, being positive and hopeful are the only two outlooks that get her through the day. It’s not always easy though… especially in concerns to family, friends, and circumstance.  

For about a year now the relationship between Jade and Layla has changed. Mostly on Jade’s part due to Layla’s bad decisions. For nearly 10 years she’s kept Declan O’Reilly, a man 17 years her senior and her lover since the age 14, a secret from Jade. Friends just don’t keep secrets… at least that’s how it had always been between them until Declan. However, no matter how wrong she was for keeping said secret--she wouldn’t have chosen otherwise. Sometimes it takes making bad choices to protect the ones you love most. Even though things haven’t been quite the same between the two childhood friends since she finally told Jade about the affair and how and when it began she still seeks the solace and comfort of such a devout friend. It’s said that real friends love you despite knowing everything about you. When it comes to Jade Kerrigan, a statement can’t be any less true.  

Layla, just about to finish off her first drink of the evening, didn't even hear Jade approach. When the woman’s voice subtly rang out a small smile twitches at her lips and she takes that last sip before passing her glass to Mingus, the bartender. “Another,” she states softly while tapping the rim with one slender digit. The crease on her lips deepens as she turns to face her friend and is greeted with the question. A nonchalant shrug is offered as she simply states, “We grew up. With that came the realization that we could no longer be oblivious to the horrors of reality.” Layla huffs a small laugh and shakes her head. Sometimes it hard for her to turn off abstract thought. “Yeah, simple would be nice,” she murmurs, taking her second drink from Mingus and nodding a thanks. “Rough day at the office, I take it?” In all honesty, she’s not sure how Jade or Orion do it. Putting their lives on the line everyday in a crime-ridden city like Boston. It’s admirable. 
 
“Eh,” she subtly grunts before taking another sip of her drink and flipping back her blonde locks. “Just the usual--School and work, criminals and socialites, gamblers and hookers, cops and politicians.” Slow eye roll offered. “Busy days and sleepless nights. My father got Mom in this fancy rehab facility. Bet she doesn't last 3 days and I’m sure there would be hell to pay when the step-witch finds out he’s helping her. She’s running off the fumes of him going public with me. It’s never-ending. I’m surprised Ori didn't tell you. He was the one to drop her off this morning.” She takes another drink, this time gulping down nearly half the contents just before waving Mingus over. “Two shots each of Irish Whiskey,” she motions to Jade then to herself. The next bit of news making her nervous and anxious. She clears her throat. It can wait. “Your turn.” Jade

Simple. It was only a word, yet a dream wrapped tightly within it. Things had not ever been simple, so the idea that they could one day be that was nothing but a fantasy that would never come to pass. Jade knew she could strive for it, but it would always be just a little out of reach, just close enough to smell, but never to fully taste. Simple was a concept that had been long ago lost on a three year old child, slipping through her fingers before she could even grasp it, right along with her innocence that should have remained intact much longer than it had, never having a chance to lose its new smell. It didn’t make the concept any less alluring, but with a shred of acceptance and a lethal dose of reality, perhaps she could let go of the façade that served as the cloaking device for an idea that was nothing more than that. A dream, a fantasy, a façade.

With her drink in hand, Jade went to it as if she had not tasted a dampness to her mouth in the last twenty four hours. By the time Layla turned the conversational floor over to her, her own glass was empty. A gesture of a lifted chin, along with the glance to the glass, was enough to prompt the barkeep to bring over another glass filled to the brim, leaving it for the thirsty patron beside her best friend. The song Layla sang of the balance of life was something Jade understood, though she did not much dabble in the same circle of life that Layla was a part of. Jade had to suppress the inner law enforcement side of her anytime Layla’s multifaceted professions were mentioned, keeping herself slightly distanced from them, knowing only a bare minimum in order to attempt to maintain the balance within the confines of their friendship without the influence of legal obligation. Layla knew how much to say and Jade knew how much not to hear to make it all work out.

The new glass was empty almost as soon as it had arrived, perfectly timed as Layla requested shots for the two of them. Jade gave a slow nod of her head, in full agreement with something stronger. “No, he didn’t, but we haven’t been very communicative the last couple of days?” Jade’s voice rose slightly at the end of her statement slash question. It was nothing to be concerned over, as Jade and Orion were anything but typical. “Work.” She reminded her friend, the sole reason for almost everything in her life that wasn’t going according to some grand plan of things that she truly didn’t even have. “We text more than we talk, but it’s enough, ya know?” She asked, her brows lifting as she indicated that it might not exactly be enough, but it was as ‘enough’ as Jade felt she was going to get until the Savastano case was closed.

“Okay, my turn. Let’s see. Work. Cael. Orion. Work is work. I’m there at six in the morning and half the time I’m not getting out of there until almost midnight. When I do get out, it’s with arms full of files to continue working from the comfort of my bed. When I worked at the police department with Orion, it was fast paced, ya know? Always working on a new case, some days it was four or five in a day. There was a sense of instant gratification that came with the close of most days. I felt the difference I was making in the city. Now? In those suits and meetings?” She leaned a bit closer, letting her true feelings be known for the first time. “I hate it there.” The statement disclosed to Layla was one that even Orion did not know. Jade was really good at putting on a strong face and going through with most anything she put her mind to without much regard to her own personal standing within it; this was no exception. She returned to an upright position, taking the shot in unison with her friend, nodding for another one. “Eight months I’ve been on this case. Eight months. This one case. I don’t have a change of pace. I don’t have a change in goals. Every day I am looking over the same things I looked over all day the day before and getting absolutely nowhere fast.”

Jade paused, holding back a piece of information about what her next step would be, not certain that she was ready to make mention of it to anyone. “Cael. Cael’s an ass. He’s started this thing where he’s getting heavily drunk, in excess. It’s unnecessary. I don’t have a problem with him drinking, per say, but it’s the things he’s doing and saying when he’s drinking that I have an issue with. Hurtful things. It’s like, he’s taking out twenty years of frustration on me and when it happens, it’s kind of funny… it’s like I’m not a cop. I’m not an FBI agent. I’m just his sister, and shockingly defenseless against the verbal attacks he delivers. He says it’s harmless and always does the morning after apologies, but it’s wearing on me. Half the time, I’m either staying at the office until I’m fairly certain he’s passed out somewhere, or I’m slipping in to my room, locking the door, putting in the earphones, and hitting files until I pass out in them just to avoid him.” This would markedly go down as the first time, in her life, that Jade had complained anything about her brother. She hated to do it, but the truth had to be told. As of late, she hated the situation and was on an endless search for an answer as to why it was going on at all.

Another shot, another story. “And Orion.” She shook her head, a telling smile gracing her lips as it almost always did at the mention of the boy’s name. “Cael’s on this kick that I need to put out.” She stated it almost too plainly, indicating a truth under the influence of alcohol that Jade would almost never come right out and say. “He thinks I don’t trust Orion. And I do. I trust him like I trust you.” Jade was clearly getting somewhere with this line of thought, though she was breaking her words apart the way she had as a child, indicating undoubtedly that the entire topic was uncomfortable for her and only probably being displayed due to her slightly altered mental state. “He makes this argument to me, all of the time. It’s like ‘Hey sis, how was your day? Sleep with O yet?’ but not exactly that plainly, but you get the point?” She asked, already shaking her own head no at the thought of it all. “It’s almost like…” With a hard bite at her lower lip, she couldn’t quite bring herself to fully let the thought out of her lips that perhaps Cael’s insistence was somehow perpetuated by conversations had between himself and Orion when they would be out, getting sloshed together, before Cael would come dragging in and spilling his thoughts at her without the shield of sobriety.

”I need simple.” The original statement repeated from the mouth of Jade as she finally met the eyes of Layla once more. She had surely covered the three main portions of her life, not necessarily in the order of importance, recapping what the last two weeks had presented her with. She had no grand story that would make Layla shine with jealousy at the life Jade was caught up in. She had no immense glamour or romantic arc to gush over. Instead, it was complaint after complaint, which was nothing like Jade’s normal demeanor, something Layla would instantly realize. The hardest part of it all for Jade was her relationship with Cael, as that had been the one thing she had always been able to count on, though the resentment that seemed to boil up from the man under the influence was something that cut too deep for the emotionally damaged twin he resided with. Jade’s ability to put on a brave face had been taught to her at an all too early age, yet at twenty-three years old, she was sitting before her best friend, finally revealing a part of herself that most would never believe came from her as such emotion simply did not ordinarily dwell within her, even more seldom being displayed.

”So there’s my story.” She stated, lifting the next shot glass to her lips, tossing it back, surely on a mission to go home as drunk, if not more intoxicated, than Cael always did. “So tell me something incredibly romantic, something to make me completely jealous and wish that we could trade for a day?” She requested, though she already had a feeling that it might turn into a complaint cycle from Layla as well. “Throw me just a little something.” She urged, blinking her eyes to meet those of Layla’s, begging her to have something to share that might put just a little sparkle in the blonde’s eyes that Jade could memorize and then mimic on her own, furthering the ability to put on that brave face as their night would come to an end, leaving her to face the reality of the three situations that she held little to no control over. Layla Secrets and lies, they have a remarkable way at destroying relationships. Layla hates keeping things from Jade and Orion… especially Jade. It’s something she realized years ago when Declan started coming around and spending time with her… since she first realized at the age of 14 she was his and he wouldn’t have any other way--not like she wanted it any other way. Jade should’ve been the first person she turned to. All the times growing up they would talk and share things about their lives from the mundane to the personal experiences, never once did she ever bring up his name. It’s not like she didn’t want to… she just couldn’t risk anyone finding out and getting him into trouble. She would’ve never forgiven herself. When Jade finally learned about Declan one year ago, it put a strain on the friendship Layla hasn’t handled very well. Since coming back from France and getting more involved with her Uncles business she once again is placed in a position in which she cannot be as candid as she would like with Jade. It puts everyone in quite the awkward predicament. Deep down; it felt like a betrayal, but then again so would revealing certain things about both Declan and her uncle Donal. For both personal and business reasons as well as respect for Jade, she’s learned how to maneuver around certain topics. It still doesn’t mean she doesn’t need her best friend and all the perks that comes with having one such as Jade as her closest confidant. 
 
Despite what she couldn’t tell her… there were still things only Jade could understand and that she could only tell her. Growing up they had been two peas in a pod--the outcasts. Just two quiet girls from broken and dysfunctional homes living in a world of nothing less than pure chaos. The only other people they had were their brothers. Layla probably wouldn’t have gotten through childhood if not for Orion. With their mom being gone or high most of the time, she was often neglected and left to her own devices. For the longest time, until Declan that is, Jade, Cael, and Orion were Layla’s world. It seemed natural when those two got together… like it was meant to be. Most girls might be pissed about their best friend and brother hooking up--not Layla though. One can say early on she had an inkling the two might end up together and in her eyes, no two people could be more right for each other than they are. Jade was already like a sister, her being with Orion just made it even more so. So, when Jade felt under the gun--pressured and stressed… even knowing her friend capable of handling almost anything that came her way… she couldn’t help feel the weight of her burdens. Especially, when it involved so many things that hit close to home. 
 
Quietly she listened to her friend, absorbing and processing every word taking a couple of more shots in unison as well. “Ya know Jade,” she begins as a sigh pushes past her lips. “I’m not surprised you hate the FBI. We grew up in this city and on these streets and you know it better than anyone I know…” She takes a moment to find the right words to say next. “I know you and I don’t see eye to eye these days on certain things, but I hope you know that some of the things I do…”Layla diverts her gaze, shame casting shadows across her crystalline orbs. “I hate. I see the worst kinda people--a lot of ‘em cops. This city… there’s always somethin’ goin’ down. It just gets worse everyday. Too much greed… too much bloodshed.” Boston needs people like you on the streets. Honestly, I wish you woulda’ stayed put. I get why ya moved on, but damn… at least you had Orion and the others watchin’ your back. The FBI… I don’t know chick. I just hope you have someone you can trust.” Layla meets her gaze again and offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry… I should be makin’ ya feel better.” 
 
It’s the mention of Cael and Orion that causes her to chuckle out loud. “Jesus,” she mutters. “I swear… those two get me everytime…” Past memories like a montage flood her mind of the four of them hanging out and having fun--before everything changed… before she met Declan and got involved with him. If not for the Irishman she’s pretty sure she would’ve ended up with Cael. He had been her first crush and to her knowledge she his. “Is it like a twin thing?” She abruptly asks. ‘I mean he’s so concerned about your sex life with O. It’s not like that with us… he never asks me about my relationships period… or whatever. It’s like he’s content in being oblivious and you and I both know…” Shot taken and slammed down. “My brother is anything but oblivious.” She grins. “Cael’s a piece of work. Always has been… I don’t think he gets it hun.” She leans in and offers a nudge to Jade shoulder with her own. “He was always much more brazen and socially gifted than the rest of us… it’s like he had it easier or somethin’.” A thoughtful look rides her expression. “He might have a lot to say on the matter, but when it comes down to it… All that does matter is what’s right for you and Orion, Jade. We both know my brother is different than most guys… He’s special.” Suddenly she is beaming with pride. “You make him happy… sex or no sex.” 
 
The prideful grin instantly turns sly as she leans in and whispers. “But let me tell ya… sex can be a lot of fun with the right person.” The apples of her cheeks flush red. Layla has only ever been with Declan, but in the 7 year span they’ve been ‘together’ her older lover has taught her many things. Not too mention all the stuff she learned in France from a very quirky English Lit professor that moonlighted as an escort. The woman became a mentor in a way and happened to be one of her only friends while at boarding school. “It’ll happen when it happens… Just tell Cael I’ll make his life at the pub hell if he doesn’t ease up,” she teases though the threat could be very real indeed. She’s already cut back his ability to drink while at work and has been contemplating cutting him off from the drinking period whenever at the pub. That’s just how bad the drinking had gotten. Would she mention this to Jade now. No… Not yet. There would be no more complaints from Layla… Not even the ones of Declan and how the secrecy of their relationship and his philandering ways are tearing her up inside. No more negativity… not tonight anyway. 
 
“Romantic? You want romantic?” Layla snorts a laugh. “There’s not been much romance in my life lately, but I think you might be proud of me for something… I gave Declan an ultimatum. I finally told him that I’m no longer gonna tolerate being a secret. We either come out and make it official or we end it.” In all honesty, Layla wouldn’t have been able to go through with her threat if he denied her, but she damn sure wouldn’t let him know that. A cheesy grin finds her lips. No matter the problems between the two… she’s head over heels in love with the man. Most people either fear him or hate him and all see him as a cocky prick. Granted, the assumptions aren’t so far-fetched, but there’s a side to him Layla gets to see that no one else does. A man that despite his vices and failures tries to be better… a man that deep down only wants what his parents had--love and family eternal. “He asked me to move in with him.” She pauses. “I said yes… as long as I could do some redecorating of course. . God forbid I live in that Irish bachelor pad. ” She throws up her hands and motions the bartender for another round of drinks. “He’s given me an unlimited budget to do it too! I couldn’t believe it! I still can’t… he’s so set in his ways… I guess… I guess that’s romantic, right?” She asks genuinely curious. Jade

A mixture of acknowledgement and support goes a long way from a friend when the other is facing challenges. The balances lean in one direction, then flow in the other with a continuous motion that never fully appears to stop on one side or the other. Conversation can drift from one focus to the other, yet never settle on just one topic, as two long-time friends spend much needed time together, re-acclimating themselves to one another with no confession of the need to do so. Things seemed to change so often, yet the topics of discussion never much did. For Jade, it was work, Cael, and Orion. For Layla, work, Orion, Cael, and Declan. She was only granted an additional topic due to the fact that she and Cael were never given their chance to solidify actions backed by their crushes, though Jade had always secretly hoped they would share a double life one day, marrying one another’s brother, becoming sisters two times over. It was a hope that she held on to up until about a year before when the truth of a long-term relationship with Declan had found its way to the surface, shattering most any chance of her future double-sisterhood. When it came to pass that she was filled in on such information, her heart broke for Cael a bit. She knew how Cael had felt about her, yet there was no longer the chance of such being reciprocated. Instead, Cael kept right on doing Cael, random women, drinking himself away, living a life Jade would not have chosen for him. He seemed happy, most of the time, so how bad could it have been? Layla seemed happy as well, so what more could Jade have truly wanted?

The lack of normalcy between herself and Orion had been a constant struggle in Jade’s mind. When she and Orion were together, the idea of normal didn’t often flood her mind. It wasn’t until those moments with Cael that she would actually see that she and Orion moved at a snail’s pace in their relationship. They had been together for years now, the date actually unknown as to when they became official. Jade credited the date to senior prom, their first official night together, though it had been set up as a favor based in friendship. She couldn’t have known that night that the spark would be there with the two of them alone, yet they were emotionally inseparable since that evening. Letting Orion down was weighing heaviest on Jade than anything else and it was not to be held beyond the scope of reason that she may act on Cael’s suggestions in the coming days or weeks, though the thought of penetration terrified the woman in a way that was unnatural.

“Flanagan,” Jade stated, nodding her head. “I don’t have a ‘partner’ per say. It’s not like the department was. We all seem to work independently, yet together, if that makes any sense to you. But, Michael Flanagan is a good man. He’s on this case with me and somehow keeps me going, even when I want to seal the case and let it go back in the 20-year-old dusty file folder I pulled it from in the first place. But I trust him, well… as much as I can trust someone who isn’t family to me.” That statement was easily inclusive of her biological father (who had only briefly met Orion and Layla- Jade needing to keep her father distanced from her life so that she may continue professionally without her birth identity being discovered), Allison (the woman who raised her), Cael, Layla, and Orion. She could count on one hand the people that she knew loved her, and whom she loved. She could trust those people because they had proven it to her, time and time again, at a very young age. There was a circle of trust and it seemed as though once inside, one would never be released. Even Layla’s years of transgressions, keeping the secrets of her relationship from Jade, defying a girl code that stated they must share every detail, as unimportant as it may seem, did not grant her a full exit from that circle of trust. It may have put her on the edge, putting a strain on the friendship as the two tried to make their way through the deceit, but Layla was not permitted to exit the circle, as it was tight and firm, allowing no one within to depart her life without holding on for dear life.

The disruption in the conversational tide only came as Layla made mention of just what sex could be. Fun. No. That was not a word Jade could even imagine relating to the act. Jade knew sex was personified in every avenue of media. She knew that many crimes were based in it. She knew that somewhere, someone, and probably most someone’s, enjoyed it. But the very thought of it sent a terrifying chill through her body. She was almost surprised that Layla could speak so casually of it before her. It was the same as Cael. How could he mention it as he had? Did everyone in Jade’s life think that it was high time she get over the innocence that had been stolen from her at the youngest age? Was she failing Orion, and everyone else, at every turn when it came to this? Was Orion possibly venting to Cael, as she had wondered before? Could he have feasibly asked Layla to speak on his behalf of the subject? The very idea of any form of insertion was enough to cause Jade to pull back, to hide in a dark corner, and refuse to come out, yet here it was, again. The thought was pushed from Jade’s mind. Orion would not do that. Orion understood what her issues were with the entire situation, and he loved her still. He constantly reminded her that he didn’t need it to prove her love and devotion to him. He promised, on multiple occasions, that he understood. Jade knew that Orion was a protector, and this subject was no exception. It was engrained in him at an early age. He had been that for her since the night she knocked her tiny fist against the apartment door down the hallway and would meet the neighboring siblings. Orion would not pressure her on his own, nor would he enlist the troops, leaving Jade to only face the fact that maybe, just maybe, she needed to push through a first encounter with him, and just do it. It was becoming ridiculous that she was 23 years old, and yet had still no experience in the matter, aside from that which was taken from in her childhood.

“It’s not like I don’t want to sometimes… there are definitely times where it crosses my mind. But to do it? I just...” Jade’s voice dropped off, her discomfort on the subject ever present, as it had always been. If there was one thing unchanging with her, it was this. It was so deeply rooted and interweaved throughout her life that deviating from the hesitation and fear was not something she had any idea how to do. Cael had sparked the first thoughts recently, and regardless of intent, Layla was doing so now. She couldn’t commit to it being tomorrow, but Jade had this aching feeling within her that maybe everyone else was right and it was high time she just conquer her own feelings on the matter and do it, for the sake of showing that love and trust in Orion. “I need another drink.” She plainly stated, disregarding the previous line of conversation just like that, holding no interest of it coming back up.

The drink in hand allowed her to focus in on what she had hoped would be insanely romantic, and it did not fail her at all. “Nice.” She nodded, tossing back another shot, imagining what that must feel like for Layla. Not only had she been granted the ability to share a space with the man she had loved most of her life, but the permission to make changes to it, to alter the appearance, to put her own touch on the newly shared living space. “That’s… terribly romantic.” Jade confessed with a nod to her head, the gleam in Layla’s eyes noted and memorized. Her strikingly beautiful blonde friend with her rough start was finally getting a taste of it all. Openly being with Declan. Moving in with him. Planning a world around the two of them. The green monster was not something that often fell into Jade’s persona, yet at this moment, she would be lying if she said she had no hopes of one day having that level of normalcy. “You make me sick.” Jade teased, the smirk to her lips making her intentions evident as she lifted a new shot glass to her lips, certainly feeling the effects as time wore on.

The more Jade drank, the more detached from her oral filter she became, allowing words to pass through which normally would have been caught and tucked away for another time, also known as never. Chatting was not Jade’s strong point, yet here she was, going on and on with Layla, proof of the level of her intoxication. “I’m going to miss this.” She stated with an explanation pending at her tongue. “It could still happen some, I guess, but we’d just have to be careful and incognito!” An addition to her original statement as she nodded her request to the barkeep for another line of shots. “I trust you, Layla, ex… explic… a lot.” She grinned, unable to quite form a word from the large vocabulary she ordinarily held with no pauses- explicitly. “I want to tell ya, but I’ve told no one, and you gotta keep it on the D.L.” Slang. Something the agent did not believe in, yet there it was. “Eight longggg months is a really long time.” She stated redundantly, the fresh round of shots arriving before them, an endless stream of liquid courage. “I can’t get nowhere. Round and round, chasin’ my ass. A merry go round that nevah runs out of power. One thin’ to the next to the next to the next to the next…” Her language slurring, her ‘g’ dropping off of words, an altered state that to date, only Layla had ever truly witnessed fully, and could be counted on one hand how many times she had seen such a spectacle. “I think I’m gonna go in. All the way. Deep. Covah.” She stated, implying such things that should have never been spoken of, yet she felt an obligation to tell Layla, and Cael, and of course, Orion.

Jade had not yet told any of them, though she had known for days now that it was looking as if she might need to take this series of actions to put the man responsible for her mother’s murder away for good. “I need a confession, so I gotta get close. CI’s aren’t workin’. Flana… Michael... that guy I work with? He suggested it the other day and I told him there was anothah way, but I am thinkin’ there’s not. So I just wanna tell ya, I’m gonna miss this if we can’t do it.” The ordinarily seamless language of the brunette was broken, words falling apart as if she were uneducated. “Can we get anothah round, hun?” Her previous sophisticated gestures of request had now been replaced with such a tongue that was unfamiliar to her, yet the lines upon lines of shots consumed had taken her eloquent language, shaken it up, and spit back something that tasted funny on her lips, prompting a laugh as it sounded foreign on her own ears. “Don’t. Tell.” She firmly instructed, the look of stone implicating the seriousness as the fleeting thought of security issues came and passed within the walls of her drunken mind. “Anyone.” She furthered with a nod of her head, followed by a laugh at her lips. Jade Kerrigan was effectively drunk, completely wasted, in the trusted companionship of her best friend, where she knew no harm would come. -February 6, 2015