#still thinking even though it's been three months wo acknowledging him. he still thinks i dont have anything to do than attend to his needs

[britneyshakespeare]

That manipulative, guilt-tripping, gaslighting and condescending ex-friend I've been subposting about every now and then for several months because his actions and words have made a paranoid wreck out of me, who suddenly stonewalled me three months ago after I set up my very first impersonal boundary with him, and then I just never reached out to him again because I realized what he was trying to do was get me to crawl on my knees and ask HIM for forgiveness for hurting ME... he messaged me today. With a laundry list of excuses and justifications in the form of an "apology" filled with fake compliments and self-pity and words put into my own mouth that I had never said to him.

I let him HAAAAAAVE it motherfucker. Well Mr. Krabs, do you wanna know what I think?

[impala666]

The One With The Candy Hearts Part Two (Bryan)

Bryan may or may not be loosely based off of Jared Padalecki, sorry not sorry. But that is who I am imagining, you are free to imagine anyone. We are here to have fun and enjoy ourselves! 

Last Part (Part One), Series Masterlist

It was later in the evening; Ross was off doing his own thing, Chandler was with Joey on his stupid date, and you were over at Monica and Rachel’s with Phoebe and instead of going out the four of you decided that it would be more fun if you all cooked, so as Monica and Rachel got the salad ready you were over at the stove stirring so the delicious smelling meal that you had wouldn’t burn while Phoebe set the table. As you four got everything ready, some how to topic of horrible ex-boyfriends came up. “Okay, okay, Roger was creepy but he was nothing compared to Pete Carney.” Rachel said to all of you.

“Which one was Pete Carney?” Monica asked her as you made your way back over to the table to take a sip of your beer. 

“Pete the weeper. Remember the guy that used to cry every time we had sex? ‘Was it good for yooou.’” Rachel played back as she pretended to be Pete Carney, which made you cringe. You could not even imagine how awkward that would be. 

“Yeah, well I would take a little crying any day over Howard the “I Win” guy.” Monica told her as she thought of her own awkward experience. “I win! I win!” Monica threw up her arms as she deepened her voice to mock the man of her own. “I went out with the guy for two months. I didn’t get to win once.” She complained as she turned to get something. You were never one to share what went on when you were in the bedroom but you didn’t find yourself caring if Rachel, Phoebe, or Monica knew. The four of you were just that close. 

“You know, Joey never really had any issue when it came to that kind of stuff. Actually, he was amazing.” You told them as you smiled at the many many memories of Joey and you in his bed, you bit on your bottom lip but immediately shook it out of your head when you remembered what happened in the coffee house that morning. “But then he has the audacity to go out with another girl not even a week after he broke up with me because he “wanted to do the right thing.” You quoted but found yourself rolling your eyes as the girls scoffed and shook their heads along with you. “I mean give me a break.” You scoffed as well. 

“But he did treat you really well,” Phoebe tried to get you to look on the bright side when you looked back on how much of a jerk he was today, which you found yourself agreeing with her on that one. 

“How do we end up with these jerks!? I mean we’re good people.” Rachel woed as she shaved the carrot into the salad bowl. 

“I don’t know, maybe we’re like some kind of magnets.” Monica joked as she joined the three of you back at the table as she shook and opened the salad dressing. You and Rachel nodded with her, acknowledging her joke. 

“I know I am. That’s why I can’t wear a digital watch.” Phoebe ended up speaking literally, even though it still made no sense. Which was why Monica, Rachel, and you found yourselves just staring down at her in confusion. 

“There’s more beer, right?” Monica asked, realizing that she wasn’t drunk enough to take on Phoebe. 

“God, I hope so.” You spoke as you walked back over to the pot and deemed what was in it good enough to be done, so you turned off the flame. You and Rachel looked at each other as she started to wash her hands in the sink, smiling and shaking your heads at your dear friend Phoebe. 

“Oh! You know my friend Abby who shaves her head?” Phoebe asked as she had gotten an idea. The three of you nodded. “She says that if you want to break the bad boyfriend cycle you can do, like, a cleansing ritual.”

“Pheebs, this woman is voluntarily bald.” Rachel told Phoebe, as her way to tell her friend that she was still skeptical. 

“Yeah,” She nodded and smiled up at Rachel. “So, we can do it tomorrow night, guys. It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s perfect.” 

“Okay. Well, what kind of ritual?” Monica hesitantly asked, hoping that it wasn’t going to be too crazy. 

“Okay.” Phoebe stood up. “We can burn the stuff they gave us.”

“Or?” Rachel asked, since it seemed like Phoebe had more to offer. 

“Or...or we can chant and dance around naked. You know, with sticks.” You looked up at Phoebe with fear of that one wondering where it came from.

“Burnings good.” Monica, Rachel, and you agreed. 

“Wait a second guys,” you started before they all went back to their small tasks for dinner. “Joey wasn’t that bad was he?” You asked, because you didn’t think Joey was that bad of a boyfriend, sure there were stuff about him that got on your nerves but he wasn’t bad.

“No,” they all said. “Just the way that he’s dealing with the break up in front of you is left to be desired.” Monica said for all of them, which was good. At least you weren’t the only one who thought that he had moved on very quickly considering how much Joey said that he was in love with you.

*********

It was a little bit later and you had left Monica and Rachel’s, and Phoebe was at the coffee house with you but she was off in the bathroom, so for now it was just you sitting at the table since the couch area was taken. Your butt was uncomfortable, but hey a seat was a seat you guessed. While Phoebe had been in the restroom you had been going through your books and studying for your exam that you had at the end of the week. You were studying, but knew you were probably going to be fine because you had aced the other ones you had taken, who knew that you would do well in this. Well you did of course.

“Excuse me?” You heard a deep masculine voice ask from right next to you. So you went to look up at who walked up to you, but all words were immediately lost when you saw the tall and very, very handsome man standing above you and smiling at you with the most beautiful hazel eyes. “Is this seat taken?” The man asked, gesturing to the seat across from your own. Phoebe’s stuff was still there, and you even saw her come back out of the corner of your eye. But it seemed your lady parts was doing all the talking here, (why did I just think that?). You shook your head at yourself at how lame you sounded, but the man just looked confused at you.

“Sorry, no it’s not taken.” You told him and he sat down. You didn’t notice Phoebe’s jaw dropping in surprise, but then she decided that she would let you have this one so she just went over to the counter for now. “But you can take a seat.” You smiled sweetly up at him.

“Thank you, I’m Bryan, by the way.” The man introduced himself as he sat down across from you. His legs were so long that he couldn’t fit them comfortably under the table. Which made you smile to yourself and cast your eyes down for a second.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself and took the hand that he held out for you to shake. 

“So, I was sitting over there with my friends,” he nodded over to where he and his friends were sitting and you looked over as he did an adorable thing where he smiled and chuckled a little when he saw you look over to see if it was true, which checked out.

“Uh huh?” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked back over at him waiting for him to continue.

“And they saw me looking over at you so they kept hounding me to come over here and talk to you,”

“Which is going very well, I must say.” You chuckled and rested your hand on your chin. He smiled so brightly at you, you swore you got lost. 

“So, would you like to get dinner or something some time?” He asked you.

“Wait a minute, this isn’t like some Valentine’s Day thing where you hit on some girl to get her to go out with her when she’s feeling her most lonely day and then never call her again?” You asked jokingly, but you were serious about it in the back of your mind. 

“What? Of course not?” His face dropped, totally serious. “But if it makes you feel better we could do it on not Valentine’s Day.”

“I think we can definitely do that, thank you.” You smiled at him, but then he started to get up.

“Awesome, I’ll see you then, Y/N.” Has he like never asked a girl out before. 

“Uh, Bryan?” You called and he turned around to look down at you and put his hands in his jean pockets. “You might need to actually call me, so we know where we’re going and stuff, you know?” You told him as you lifted a piece of paper with your phone number on it. 

“Right, sorry!” His hand shook as he took the paper from you. “Just really nervous.” Bryan told you under his breath which made you chuckle. “I’ll call you then?” 

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Have a good night, Y/N.” He smiled at you.

“You too,” you told him and he walked away to join his friends once more as Phoebe came back over to sit by you.

“Ooh, who was that?” Phoebe asked as she couldn’t help but check him out herself. 

“Bryan.” You told since that was all you knew.

“He asked you out, for Valentine’s Day, can’t believe him.” Phoebe already thought what you were trying to prevent that. 

“Oh, no. I already said no Valentine’s Day. Plus we have that burning ritual thing tomorrow.” You told her as she nodded her head at you and your smartness. 

“I don’t think Joey’s going to like it.” Phoebe muttered trying to get to worked up, she wanted to help you move on.

“I don’t care, he wanted me to get to know New York, and you know what. I’m going to get to know it, I am SO going to get to know it!” You yelled. “Oh, but not like that.” You told her not wanting to look like slut.

“Not that there would be anything wrong with that,” Phoebe spoke even though she agreed with you. 

“I’ll drink to that.” You nodded as you and Phoebe clinked your coffee mugs against the others.

Taglist:

@vampiregirl1797​

@kellysimagines​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #310

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

Do you have a clock in your room? No. What book, movie, TV show, or video game have you been wanting to start up? I *want* to read The Testaments by Margaret Atwood, but I care more about reading Wings of Fire, so I probably realistically won't for a long time. I don't read enough for that; Sutherland will surely keep pumping out books in the series so I'll never catch up, haha. As for a movie, I've been interested in seeing Jacob's Ladder for a very long time; it served as a very large influence on the Silent Hill series, and boy, anyone who brings up video games in front of me knows SH is my SHIT. I also just know I'm bound to like it with how essentially legendary it is in the psychological horror genre, which is my favorite. Onto TV show, I'm not certain. Shows don't really interest me. I would like to keep watching A:TLA w/ Sara, but "start up" implies beginning something new, so. Lastly, video games. There are a LOT of games I want to play, but yeah, I have no operational gaming console above a PS2. I'm dyinnnngggggg to play a ton of PS4 remasters (namely the original Spyro the Dragon trilogy and SoTC), but as for a fresh game I've never experienced, Ico, which is from the same producers of Shadow of the Colossus. It's an old game, and Mom's bought it off of Ebay for me twice, but neither disc worked - they froze only minutes into the game. It's hella expensive in new condition though because of its age... so who knows when I'll actually get to play it. Do you put anything else on your grilled cheese sandwiches? Just butter. Have you ever read a book in a different language? I've read some simple fairy tales as well as the play Faust in German courses. Do you want to go to the Harry Potter theme park at Universal? I have no connection with the franchise, but I mean, I'd go if you're paying, haha. If you had a secret room in your house, how would you decorate it? I'm trying to think what kind of room I'd keep a secret... Ha, actually, IF my love of tarantulas expands so largely to having dozens (which I doubt, but I acknowledge the possibility once I get my own place), a room kept on the down low to others just for them would be pretty cool. Imagine someone not knowing they're sharing a house with like, a hundred Ts, haha. As for actual decor, I'm unsure. I'd definitely keep it generally dark for them as nocturnal creatures, maybe with some Halloween decorations, like lots of fake webbing and neon green or orange lights. Man... that sounds dope. What did you get your dad for his last birthday? I couldn't buy him anything, nor did I actually make anything since I didn't know what to create. I just told him happy birthday, of course. Do any of your relatives live in another country? No. Are you claustrophobic? In some spaces, yes. Ever seen Blair Witch? Without spoilers, you know "that part" near the end? Yeah, if you've seen it, you know. That would be a fucking NIGHTMARE for me. Even watching it made me squirm. When grocery shopping, do you usually buy brand names or store brand? With most items anyway, we just get the store brand bc we cheap. Around what time do you usually eat dinner? Generally between 5:30-6:30 nowadays. Do you have any clothing that you get dry cleaned? No. Do you like foods with coconut in it? Eugh, not a coconut fan. I don't hate it as much as I used to, but I still don't like it. Have you ever researched your family history? No, but some past relative researched our family tree. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I hate carrots. Did you play with Legos as a kid? Nah, I was more into Lincoln Logs. Which bothers you more… spelling mistakes or bad grammar? It really depends on the severity and simplicity of the spelling or grammar rule. Grammatical misuse of "there/their/they're" stand out very strongly to me, though. Have you ever bought anything off of eBay? Yeah, a good number of things. Is anybody in your family schizophrenic? If so, what is their life like? I have a scizophrenic half-sister that I've never met, so I couldn't tell you. How organized is your mind? How do you know it's organized/disorganized? My mind is running Windows '98 with multiple windows and even more tabs open, all of them not responding. :^) Why do you follow the religion that you do? I don't follow one. My personal religious journey was a train wreck liberating to jump off of. Do you feel superior to others because you're that religion? I don't care if you're atheist, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, whatever - you are by no means superior to another person in any way just because you believe different things happen once you die. If you do, it's time for some introspection. Are you a blind believer, or do you frequently challenge your own beliefs? Seeing as I went from Catholic to Christian to briefly Neo-Pagan-ish to what I am now, just believing there's some higher power/knowledge and some form of sentience after death, I obviously challenge them. What's the greatest thing about science? Life itself. This universe, this planet, your state of just knowing is a product of science, and that's pretty damn beautiful. Are you emotional or very stolid? I know I'm too emotional. I'm trying to get better about it. Do your siblings look like you? To a degree, but not NEARLY as much as they look like each other. Ashley and Nicole have been mistaken multiple times in their lives and even asked if they're twins. How many states have you lived in? Just this shitty one. How many states have you traveled through/vacationed in? Traveled through, a whole lot. Up and down the east coast. I've stayed in New York, Florida, Ohio, Illinois, South Carolina briefly, and I think possibly Michigan as a baby. Which state was/is your favorite? I don't know. Not NC, haha. You have two weeks alone in any place in the world; where would you go? Alone? Um... I dunno. I'd get lonely through two weeks in absolute isolation. How old were you when you first moved out of your parents' home? I want to say I was 18 when I briefly "moved in" with Jason and our roommates. Did you ever have to move back in? Yeah; the apartment didn't last very long. None of us were ready. How old were you when you thought you were "in love" for the first time? I was in love at 16. I'd fight God literally for eternity to prove that fact. How many exterior doors are in your home? Two, or maybe three, depending on your outlook. We have like this deck in the back with a roof and mesh separating you from the outside, and then you properly go into the yard from the door beyond that. How many cars have you owned? I myself, none. How many email accounts do you have? Ummmm my very first one I misspelled, so I didn't use it long before making a new one with the correct spelling, then later I had no choice but to make a Gmail to use YouTube, and I know I've had at least one email specifically for school. I'm probably forgetting some other oldies I used for small things. What was the last movie you watched alone? The Shining. What (if any) one television program do you watch religiously every day/week? None. What (if any) is your favorite sport? Dance. Scoff at that shit and then try one dance session and tell me it's not one. What is your favorite musical? None. Have you ever seen a live opera production? No. Dressing up for an evening out: Pants or skirt? Pants. I don't show my legs. What do you currently hear right now? I'm listening to Dance With the Dead's "The Man Who Made a Monster." I LOVE the aesthetic of synthwave and rock mixed together, but the only problem I have with this song is that it's very repetitive. Still stuck in my head though, haha. What type of survey do you refuse to take? I'm not into bolding surveys, specifically. Do you like to run? bitch fuck no Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Zero chance. What was the longest movie you watched? Hm, I don't remember... It's faintly there in my head, I just can't identify it... Have you ever been to a job interview? Well yeah. Who was the last person to call you? My psychiatrist. Now that I'm doing the partial hospitalization program again, he calls once a week. When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Uhhh I think around the start of this month? Missed him and felt like chatting for a bit. Is your dog mixed or full? I don't have a dog, buuuut... we're getting one soon! I'm quite sure she's a mutt. What was the last thing you and your mother did together? Rode to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. Do you take good pictures? I like to think so. What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? The most recent selfie I took and liked. I'm finally comfortable using makeupless photos as a display picture. :') Not that I like my body by any means, I just don't care enough to feel like I HAVE to wear makeup to be even remotely pretty in the face. As for everywhere else... ahahaha. What is going on outside right now? It's raining. Like it has been for what feels like literally weeks - and it might actually have been. There's been one or two sunny days in a huge streak of just nothing but rain. It's so gross outside by now; we've been under a flood warning for days on end. Who was the last person you kissed? My best friend, but we were dating then. What color looks the best on you? Black. Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? Oh, absolutely. I LOATHE trying on clothes. You have to essentially drag me to go do it. I don't have a good reason other than I don't want to, lol. What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? I put down the deposit on my tattoo. c: Do you have any mag subscriptions? No. What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? Snakes are probably the highest on the list. I adore snakes, all snakes. Would you ever have a threesome? No; I'm strictly monogamous and to me would be cheating even if your partner was in on it. Are you an U.S. citizen? Yep. Do you have any step siblings? I have a stepbrother, yeah, but I don't see him as my brother, honestly. He's a very quiet and reclusive guy I've had almost no conversations with, and they've only ever been short. Do they annoy you? Nah, he's fine. How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? Well, we live together... What did you wear yesterday? The same pjs I'm in now. I'm changing when I take a shower later. The tank top is a Day of the Dead-esque skull pattern, while the pants are mostly navy with skulls and candy can crossbones that say "nice until proven naughty" arching over and beneath them. They were a Christmas gift from my sis and are really soft and comfortable. Really don't care that it's now out of season, I wear them anyway. I do not match colors AT ALL, but again, I don't care. What color straightener do you have? We don't have one; neither Mom or I use one. Do you listen to music really loud or really low? Turn that shit up LOUD. I'll be nearly deaf one day, but... worth it? lol Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? No. Both my sisters have moved out. I'm still here because I'm just not emotionally or financially equipped to live on my own yet. Who was your last crush? I still like my best friend, but agree with her that right now isn't the time for anything. How many tattoos do you have? Currently only six. :( What is your favorite thing to do? Car rides with Mom while I ride passenger, controlling the music nice and loud with my iPod. It's odd, considering I'm very afraid of being on the road, but it's just such a freeing, wild feeling to blare music and just go, letting your mind wander. How many pets do you own? I only have a cat and a snake right now, but we're getting a dog hopefully very soon, preferably today actually when Mom has to go to the appropriate city for her normal check-up to keep her cancer at bay. Her name is Vanna and sounds so perfect for us. Mom can barely wait. Are you close with your parents? Yes, very, Mom especially. Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Hot Topic or Wal-Mart. I'd really like more stuff from Rebel's Market; they have such a wide range of stuff that just scream my aesthetic. I got my purse from there, and it's fantastic quality and so cool-looking. Have you ever read a whole series of books? Well, one trilogy that I remember: Shiloh. I adored those books and the movies. I got very, very deep into Warriors by Erin Hunter, but then my interest in reading waned, and I'm immensely behind. I don't think I'll pick it up again, but I've thought briefly about it. When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Yes. Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I walked. Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Hm, perhaps. I'd have to think for a while. What did you do for your last birthday? I just ate pizza at home with my one sister that was free that day, Mom, and a family friend, as well as opened presents. What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I don't recall, but I think that may have been when I was in the psych hospital. Or was that my 21st? I don't remember. Do you have to type with good grammer? Yes. I type pretty much exactly how I talk. What is your favorite quote? It's hard to pick one singular favorite. Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? Dad could care less, but I try to limit myself with Mom, especially with "fuck." She's not a fan, nor does she like if I just swear too much in front of her. Like she won't yell at me or anything, she just makes it clear she wants me to stop. How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes. I didn't get the Zoom link to group therapy one day and let the place know. Turns out their email was fucking up. Which one of your friends annoy you? The family friend I mentioned a few questions above has the ability to be incredibly aggravating. I love her, but she has zero issue with inserting herself into everything (and sometimes we just don't want to see her), and she voices incredibly rude opinions literally no one asks for a whoooole lot. She's got a strong tendency to try to take control over every situation. Her being our landlord now makes it harder to speak up, and besides, no one wants to hurt her feelings. Don't be mistaken though, she truly is an incredible person with a heart more caring than probably any person I know. Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No, thank fuck. I mean, I think. I do believe one of my childhood online friends committed suicide because of sexual abuse from her own fucking brother, but I guess I'll never know. She was talking to me one night horribly depressed and scared and then just vanished. Bless her, I loved her. Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes. Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? Tons of posters and artwork, anyway. I currently don't have any photographs, but I got this shadowbox thing for my bday to decorate with pictures of Teddy so I can use it in my "tribute shrine" or whatever for him, and I'd also like to frame the picture of Sara's and my first hug and maybe put it on my bedside table. Do you have Facebook? Yeah, I do. Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? I myself, no, but a friend's mom did find two poor kittens thrown aside in a fucking plastic bag... Some people are abominable. Knowing how much my family loved cats, she reached out to us, and we took them in and named them Aphrodite and... I can't remember the other's name. She disappeared kinda early. Aphrodite wound up being one of my most beloved cats and was even the mother of a kitten that same family adopted. Delilah is still alive, doing wonderfully, and incredibly loved. <3 Aphrodite, meanwhile, as well as all our other cats at the time, were taken by animal control because our neighbors were tired of them wandering, even though they were too fucking cowardly to confront us first. I've said in many surveys that I am very much against outdoor cats, but I wasn't then because I was uninformed and really didn't understand. I wailed and sobbed and just pure shrieked like a banshee outside when we came home to learn they were taken. I have no clue how any are now, and that's the worst part. Do you go bowling in your town? We are in the middle of a pandemic, lol. Even beforehand though, I rarely went. Last time I did was on a date with Girt. We had fun. Do you have a drive-in theater? No sir. What brand is your favorite shoe? Converse. Is your best friend's mom like your own? They're quite similar, yes. Both are very sweet and caring for others. Do you have anxiety or depression? Try both. What is your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? Nah. Have you and your friends ever made up a word? Likely as kids. Do you have any embarrassing baby pictures of yourself? Not that I know of. What is the worst smell in the world? Anyone remember that survey I took mentioning my dog's old tumor? Yeah, that after he spent overnight in a diaper and inevitably peed himself in his old age. And he had a UTI. You probably can't even imagine how fucking vomit-inducing that smell was. Do you dye your hair a lot? No. :/ I really wish. I have so many colors I wanna try. Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Not really? No one in my family owns one. My younger sister would totally go if you asked her and had one for her to use, though. She's done it plenty before. Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Yeah, a fourwheeler, and it's really fun! Tell me how you got one of your scars? Hmmm, let's think of a unique one. Ah, my shins, left one especially. When I shave my legs, they get unbelievably itchy, even if I use lotion, and I would scratch my skin absolutely raw so often that I have permanent scars. It's partially why I barely shave my legs anymore. Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? I know many, sadly. I don't know of any that still do, thankfully. I promise, it never helps. If you ever have the urge, I can't suggest enough running where you want to self-harm under cold water or slap the location (like your wrist) with a rubber band. The latter is especially helpful. It's a similar burning sensation and doesn't leave marks. It would help me refrain sometimes. What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? Swim in a nice, warm pool. Otherwise, become a hermit and wait for the outdoors to not be prepared to melt the flesh off my bones. x_x Do you go tanning or do you lay out? Neither, ugh. As you can guess from above, I hate the sensation of heat on me. What is your favorite skin lotion? I just really like cocoa butter. Smells really good and is perfectly moisturizing. Do you use a lot of hair products? The only hair product I use is shampoo, haha. Do you have a cousin you dislike? No. Well, one is incredibly brainwashed and misled by her psychopath of a father, but I love her nonetheless. We talk now and again because family is important to her. Have you ever heard Theory of a Deadman? Yeah, they're good. What is your comfort food? Absolutely ice cream. Who is your celebrity crush? Mark Fischbach/Markiplier is a perfect human being with the looks of a god and heart of a saint and you cannot convince me otherwise. What’s the song you most wish you had written? "Imagine" by John Lennon is a high contendant, for sure. Definitely something I'd write. Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I think so at one point or another. Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? Ha, for sure. Have you ever been interrupted during sex? A bitch knows how to act asleep if she hears a door so much as barely squeak, I'll tell you that much lmaooo. Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? No. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? No. Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? I've barely actually cooked anything in order TO fuck up. Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I can't say with certainty, but I think Jason's mom had her doubts about me at first because she commented on the ripped jeans I wore when I went to his house for the first time. She came to love me like her own though, and I love(d) her. I was actually just thinking about her and how she's doing the other day. What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Always? Perhaps sour candy, like Sour Punch Straws in specific. Ever held a newborn animal? Many kittens, yes. Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I do, but just for the annual appeal of it. I don't actually believe it will have any effect on what I wished, it's just... normal, ig. What is the last thing you searched for online? Medical coding classes. Having trouble finding any free ones that are actually legit... Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when it's hot in your room? It's borderline impossible. Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Sometimes, and almost always with Oreos. Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Ha, speaking of medical coding... No, not really. It's unnerving to hear "you have _____," but I understand it can be something so, so minor. Of course, it could be the exact opposite, but. I also actually find it quite interesting to learn the Latin roots of the terms. Are you afraid of failure? Beyond measure. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes, to my former friend's son. Not that that witch of a woman was a great person. I'd love to know how an infant can be negatively affected by receiving nothing but love from his "aunt," also having no concept of understanding about me being unemployed and not very "adult-ish" in general, which I'm sure is what she meant. Normally judgment hits me deep, but that shit I just rolled my eyes at.

[five-wow]

I have a little crisis going on. My friend saw me checking in on tumblr on my phone a week or so ago and asked me what I was looking at. I told her about H 5-0 and McDanno. She likes gay ships and started watching.When she was finished with season one and had watched the conclusion of the season final she asked me why Danny ditched Rachel in favor of Steve. I told her because he loves him – duh! But I guess she just doesn't feel the vibes for that ship. (1/2)

She told me while she got why maybe Steve would fall for Danny she didn’t understood how Danny could develop feelings for Steve, didn’t even get how they’ve become friends with all the arguing. I know I can’t convince her and I don’t want to.But when I was home again, it got me thinking… and to my sheer horror I nearly came up with nothing (okay, he payed for the dolphin swimming and helped finding Meka’s murderer, was there for the memorial service) but otherwise? (2/2)            

Dear god, I don’t know myself why Danny would fall for Steve. I haven’t watched season 1 in a while. Could you please remember me? Sorry for the Long three part ask. (3/3)             

OKAY SO. Tragically, I haven’t watched season 1 in a while either, because I still haven’t gotten around to that rewatch I keep saying I should probably do, BUT. HOWEVER. YET.

It might be a bit of a mess, but I’m always ready to ramble about why Danny might fall for Steve. This ended up as nearly 2k words, so I’ll put it under a cut:

I think that a crucial first thing to understand is that when Danny yells, it does not necessarily mean he’s genuinely angry. I definitely get how if you do interpret it that way, the entire show could just kind of look like Danny doesn’t even like Steve very much, let alone loves him. Yelling CAN mean he’s angry, and of course it often DOES mean that, but just as often (or perhaps even more) it overwhelmingly means that he cares. Loudly. Right in your face. (There’s a later episode, 3.15, in which Steve does something heroic but stupid and Danny yells at him afterwards and Steve goes, kind of gleefully, “You were worried about me” and Danny says “Worried? No, no, I was worried about my car” but it’s VERY obvious that he’s lying, like, to the point where that’s the whole joke here. There are probably other instances that prove the yelling-Danny-does-not-mean-a-Danny-who-doesn’t-like-you, but this is my favorite because it’s extremely, blindingly obvious, and the narrative actively wants us to see it that way.)

To jump right in with the deep stuff: Steve offered Danny a job and gave him a family and a place in Hawaii and a purpose and the feeling of being useful, and he did it at a time when Danny was living a pretty miserable existence where even after six months he was still being hazed by the other Detectives for being the haole who wears a tie. Danny tells Tani in one of the very early season 8 episodes that Steve has a way of coming into people’s lives at just the right time, and that he did that for everyone on the team, including Danny. Obviously if you’re watching season 1 you can’t know what’s being said in season 8, but it’s just confirmation of stuff that’s definitely there on screen in season 1, too.

Steve is good at his job. Really, really good, and even if his methods are crazy, he ends up helping people. Danny can be shocked at the means and still appreciate the end at he same time.

Steve’s surprisingly smart, too. A bit of a dork sometimes - Steve with that teacup in 1.10? “I like tea.” NERD. (He’s also absolutely saying that to rile Danny up, and essentially that just means he enjoys arguing with Danny which is SO PERFECT for Danny, who can’t stop it even if he tries. More about that later.)

Steve makes Danny laugh. It may sometimes be a laugh borne out of shock, perhaps even anger, but there’s definitely laughter. (Steve also goes along with Danny’s silly banter and smiles about it - Danny’s “you miss me, don’t you?” when Steve is being a super secret spy on the museum ship in 1.07 and Steve’s “yeah, yeah” and “but you don’t swim” are a wonderful example.)

But then, on top of all of that, Steve is also kind. Of course there’s the hotel room with dolphin swimming he gives Danny as an apology after Danny makes it clear that he thinks he deserves one (which, by the way, still make me scream a little, because everything after that one moment ALWAYS portrays Steve as extremely unwilling to spend a lot of money on anything, even gifts, AND because yes, it’s a way to apologize, but it’s also something that immediately shows Steve gets Danny, because it’s not just for Danny, it’s for Grace! it’s for Danny to have fun with Grace), but he also makes a call to the Governor when Danny has issues with Rachel over visitation rights for Grace, and he does it behind Danny’s back. He comes to Meka’s funeral, not because he needs to grieve, but because Danny is grieving. When Grace and Rachel get car-jacked and Danny has to leave suddenly in the middle of a case, Steve’s immediate response is to tell him to call if he needs anything and then look completely thrown for a moment after Danny leaves. tl;dr: Steve CARES, and Danny, a man who is definitely not stupid, knows this. I mean, it’s not like he has to look far to see it anyway - he experiences it, over and over and over again. (And Steve’s there like this for the whole team, not just Danny, but in season 1 it’s definitely mostly Danny, because after Steve he just has the most problems, poor guy.)

(Side note, that episode I mentioned in which Grace and Rachel get car-jacked and Danny rushes to them? 1.16? Later on, Steve is going full camouflage ninja in the forest on his own and then his phone starts buzzing and he sees it’s Danny and the first thing he does after picking up is ask “are Grace and Rachel okay?” and when Danny then asks about the case he goes “don’t worry about that” to calm Danny down, and they end up having a lengthy conversation about Danny’s problem while Steve is panting trying to hold a log in the air for some very important SEAL reason, but he doesn’t complain a single time or even mention that he’s kind of busy. Danny needs him, so he’s available.)

And I mean, obviously, there’s these: “Maybe you’re not as alone around here as you think, Danno.” “I know you.” “I picked you, didn’t I?”

If I can just circle back around to something we’ve sort of covered: Danny yells a lot. He has a temper. He gets angry. He doesn’t get along super well with most people, and then along comes Steve, who initially INFURIATES Danny to the point where Danny ends up hitting him after they meet, but instead of getting angry back or holding a grudge, Steve is impressed and takes it in stride and still wants Danny to work with him because he sees Danny’s talents, and he doesn’t let himself be intimidated by the attitude. He lets Danny rant and get angry and he argues back but also calms Danny down when needed, and everything we’re shown indicates that he enjoys that dynamic. Essentially, Steve is the ideal partner for Danny, and Steve is also lonely and he’s loyal to a fault and they have a similar sense of humor and their banter flows ridiculously smoothly right from day one and their personalities just click and Steve keeps inviting Danny over for beer and letting him walk into his kitchen unannounced and dragging him into Steve’s classic car for its first test drive, so what do you know? Steve’s also a really great best friend.

Danny says Steve is terrible with kids and then Steve is actually GREAT with Grace. Like, when Danny gets hit with the sarin gas and Steve picks Grace up from school because he knows she’ll be getting out soon and there will be nobody waiting for her? That’s something that you can bet means the world to Danny, because Grace is his world. ALSO, Steve goes to get Grace and deliver her to the hospital personally, even though it’s a ridiculously busy day with two cases to work at once, one of which might lead them to Wo Fat, the killer of Steve’s father, which is Steve’s Huge Tragic Backstory and the thing he’ll usually drop anything else for. Except Grace! (Obviously, if he knew when Grace would need to be picked up and hadn’t done anything about it, that would have been a huge dick move, so you could say he had no choice, but that still means that 1) he knows when and where to pick Grace up in the first place, which shows he cares enough to pay attention to something that he couldn’t have known would ever be relevant until that moment, and 2) he could have sent Chin or Kono or Jenna or Duke or Kamekona or random HPD officers, and he did not do that. He went there in person. He went to get Grace.)

Which leads us neatly here: Steve, a guy with virtually no family left except for one very estranged sister (and an aunt we don’t know about yet and a mother who’s actually still alive, but those can’t really be counted at the end of season 1), is a HUGE FAMILY MAN. What’s Danny’s whole reason for uprooting his life and being miserable five days a week but still feeling it’s totally worth it for those other two days? LOVE OF FAMILY. Danny definitely, 100% can appreciate that quality in other people, and Steve has it, he just had nowhere to direct it for the longest time.

In the same vein, Danny is a True Dad. He sees Steve, this lonely guy who just lost his dad, and in the fandom it’s generally acknowledged that Steve saw Danny and went “yes, this one, I’m keeping this one”, but for all of Danny’s complaining, he also adopted Steve on the spot.Steve needs a Danny so he doesn’t get himself killed (the very first episode immediately hammers this point home really hard), and there’s no way Danny isn’t aware of that on some level.

Also just. Yes, Steve does a lot of things Danny tells him he shouldn’t do. Yes, Steve is an idiot sometimes. But he also listens to the things Danny yells at him, and when it really matters to Danny, he changes his behavior. There’s that apology hotel room, for one, but there’s also that bit in the episode about Meka, Danny’s former partner, where Steve is not entirely convinced that Meka wasn’t a dirty cop even though Danny keeps insisting he can’t have been because he was a good guy, and Danny gets so mad Steve doesn’t believe him that he walks off (“If my word is not good enough for you, then I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he says), so a while later Steve goes after him and he keeps asking questions until he understands what Danny means - you know your partner, you trust your partner, the way Danny trusts Meka is the way Steve trusts Danny and that’s why Danny’s behavior makes sense - and from that point on, he fully has Danny’s back in this crusade to clear Meka’s name, even though there it’s not like there’s suddenly more hard evidence to support it.

So why would Danny ditch Rachel to go chase after Steve? Well, because he knows at that point, no one else might do it, and at least not the unrelenting way Danny will. Because Steve doesn’t have many people and deserves to have someone stick up for him. Because there is zero doubt Steve would do the same thing for him.Because Danny knows that in that moment, Steve needs him more than Rachel does. Because he has to make a choice and he’s inevitably going to regret not being there for one of these people, but apparently, to Danny, getting to Steve is more urgent. Because he’s putting Steve’s needs before his own. Because they’re partners and they’re family and they’re friends and that really, really means something. Because it’s Steve, and he means something.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Restricted Magic (Erin/Gerald Story) Arc 3 Part 1

Here is the first part! It’s likely not going to be daily updates, but I promise they’ll come frequently. 

For anyone who hasn’t read arc 1 and 2, master post is linked here. 

Hope you guys enjoy!

“Who is that?”

The party was in full swing. Men and women dressed in elegant clothes spun around the room, moving in time to the lively music being played by the orchestra. Many carried long, delicate glasses filled with different types of alcohol. This late into the night many were beginning to get intoxicated. The conversations were getting slightly louder, the laughter more forceful, the smiles a little too bright. It made Elsinore uncomfortable. She already hated being in social situations like this, but especially once they started drinking, the filters in the polite conversations came off. That was when the uncomfortable questions started.

“Elsinore are you listening?” 

Startled by her sister’s insistent tug on her arm, she turned to the younger girl, her sister, beside her.

“Sorry, Sophia, I’m just wishing I was somewhere else.” She chuckled grimly. “Anywhere else.”

Sophia sighed quietly. “How many proposals have you gotten so far?”

“Three, two of them from gentlemen twice my age.” Elsinore wanted to scream with frustration. “But the night is still young and the liquor is flowing so I’m sure there will be more.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault this stupid country decided that being twenty-one meant I was an old maid.”

“Mom and Dad…”

“Are even worse than the rest of them.”

“Don’t worry!” Sophia grabbed her arm, giving her a cheeky grin, “I’ll fend off all your unwanted suitors.”

Elsinore couldn’t help but smile back. “What if there’s a wanted suitor?”

“Is there?”

She chuckled. “Not yet, but I’ll let you know.”

They circled the party, trying their best to blend into the crowd.

“How goes your training?” Elsinore sipped on her drink, eyeing the passerbyes, ready to escape at a moment’s notice.

“The Protector says I am doing well.” Despite her cheerful words, the younger sister seemed depressed. “But I can’t complete the ritual magic yet. There’s only a few more months left.”

Now it was Elsinore’s chance to comfort Sophia. “Hey, you’ll be fine. You’re my sister aren’t you? You were chosen for a reason. The Ceremony will go perfectly. You’ll see.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“Well I wish I had your figure, so we’re even!”

“Elsinore!” Sophia blushed, covering her face with her hand. “You can’t say things like that in public!”

“Why not? I’m an old maid, right? I should be able to get away with saying whatever I want.” Elsinore laughed. “In fact, give me a few more years and I’ll be running naked through the streets and no one will be able to complain…”

“AHEM.”

Oh crap.

Elsinore felt her smile freeze into place and slowly turned to see an older man standing there. His expression… was not pleased.

“Father! So pleased to see you!” Elsinore cleared her throat, decided that pretended that she hadn’t just been loudly talking about running around naked would be the best strategy.

“I was hoping to introduce you two, but perhaps, this isn’t the right time…”

What? Had she managed to chase off one the many potential suitors that her father had arranged for her? Great! She silently decided to be inappropriate in public more often.

“You can’t imagine denying me the pleasure of meeting such talented and beautiful young women, can you?”  A voice smoothly interrupted, and startled, she looked to the source.

A handsome young man, around her age, bowed over her hand while introducing himself. He was attractive, but no more so than some of the other men there. The young man’s features were regular, but not perfect. His hair and eyes were dark, his build muscular, his hands had calluses on them. A soldier? But he carried himself so nobly…  overall though, Elsinore felt there was something about him, an atmosphere of power, something that drew her in, made her want to look closer. Lost in thought while staring at him, she hadn’t realized she was being rude until her sisters elbow connected with her side.

“Hey!” Annoyed, she turned to face her sister, and then came to her senses with a start. “I’m Elsinore De Mentura.” She curtseyed, her face bright red, wishing she could hide it better.

He simply smiled, the expression causing her heart to race. “Well I hope I have a chance to get to know you better, Elsinore.” He bowed over her hand, leaving a gentle kiss on the back, and walked away.

Elsinore dazedly looked at his retreating back, her thoughts racing.

“So you like him, huh?” Sophia  was smiling, and if the expression was slightly strained, Elsinore didn’t notice.

“Umm… Wait!” she panicked, realizing she hadn’t been listening. “I didn’t even get his name!”

“You really were distracted.” Sophia laughed. “Should I fill you in on what you missed while you were making puppy dog eyes?”

“Don’t be stingy. I’m your only sister.” Seeing no change in her expression, Elsinore reluctantly made an offer. “I’ll make you a cake!”

Sophia’s eyes gleamed. “Two cakes.”

“Deal.” The two sisters shook hands.

“So... what was his name?”

“It’s Roderick.” Sophia answered quickly, as if concerned Elsinore would change her mind. “General Roderick.”

 Elsinore woke up in her cell in a cold sweat, tears streaming from her eyes. Panicked, she looked around the small room as if expecting an attacker. Confirming she was alone, she let out a sigh and fell back onto the bed, covering her eyes with her hands.

“Sophia” the name passed through her lips as a whisper, her fingers unable to keep her tears at bay.

Elsinore had thought she had adjusted to her solitary life here, her imprisonment due to their fear of her powers. But since she had returned from accompanying her niece and her fellow students from the tournament, she had felt… restless.

When had she become so weak?

“Did you forget about your revenge?” A cold voice called out from the corner of the room. Elsinore looked up, startled, before covering her eyes again.

“Go away.”

“What an interesting request.” The young woman smiled, her face lovely but the expression didn’t reach her eyes, making an uncomfortable picture. “Considering I’m only a figment of your imagination.”

“Please... please I can’t bear it anymore... leave.” Elsinore reached out to her, her hand seeming to rest on the other woman’s cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s a little late to be sorry, sister.” Sophia examined her nails, seeming unconcerned by Elsinore’s distress. “It’s your fault I married him.”

“Sophia…”

“Your fault I was trapped there.”

“…please….” Her heart was breaking.

“Your fault he killed me.”

“No… No…” She shook her head over and over, wanting to deny it, but knowing deep down that she couldn’t. “I didn’t know, I couldn’t have known.”

“Too late now.”

“You’re not real.” Elsinore covered her ears, trying to shut out the laughter that answered her words. “It’s my illusion powers out of control again. You died, Sophia.”

“And?” Sophia’s image raised an eyebrow. “Does that make me wrong?”

“…No… you’re right. I was the fool who trusted him. You paid the price. But I will not fail you again. “ She stared at the image of her dead sister, her face stern. “I have prepared for years. Sacrificed everything… including that child.” Her expression was regretful at the thought of her niece Erin, but quickly the momentary hesitation faded.  “But no matter what...I will avenge you. “

As the illusion smiled, fading, Elsinore clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm.

“You’re going to die, you bastard. Your own daughter is going to kill you and I’m going to watch. And then Sophia will rest peacefully.” She looked to the corner, but her sister’s image was already gone.

“I promise.”

 “It’s too weird being back!” Olivia sighed and leaned back in her desk, looking around the classroom with a look of dismay.

Erin chuckled, checking over her notes from the previous class. “We weren’t gone that long, what did you expect?”

“I expected SOMETHING to change!” She threw her hands in the air. “We traveled to another country! We won an international competition! We defeated a freaking army!”

“I have NO idea what you mean!” Erin glared at her friend, “We were at the competition the whole time, remember? There was no army. You must be mistaken.”

Olivia blanched. “Umm.. I mean, yes! Of course! No armies or super awesome battles at all!”  Groaning, she muttered “Not that anyone us paying attention anyways.”

“I like it better that way.”

“Spoilsport. Some of us like the attention.”  She looked around. “It would nice if our accomplishments were at least acknowledged by someone!”

Olivia seemed like she was going to continue to rant, but to Erin’s relief, the teacher stood up at the desk and started the class on magical theory.

“We’ll be reviewing modes of magical induction, keep in mind that next week the midterm exam is coming up. This information will appear on the test.”

As the teacher continued to lecture, Erin felt her attention wander.  

I hope Gerald is paying attention, with the test coming up. As this thought occurred to her, she turned in her seat to check on him.

Not good.

Gerald was obviously distracted, staring down at his desk with a large grin. He had a large book open and was scribbling furiously on the pages. Erin didn’t think the passion was coming from his love of magical theory. She reached over, tapping his elbow with a soft hand. He startled, looking over at her briefly.

“As your tutor, I’m telling you to pay attention!” She whispered.

Their eyes met briefly, and his face slowly turned bright red. Seeming dazed, he looked back down at the notebook he was writing in and scratched something out before beginning to write again.

And… we’ve lost him again. Erin sighed with frustration.

“Is there something interesting, Prince Gerald?” The teacher’s annoyed question startled the class from the distracted stupor.

Gerald didn’t even look up, continuing to write. Erin wanted to reach out and poke him again, but felt it would be too obvious now that the teacher was looking. She quietly summoned a small amount of wind magic to push his back.

“Urgh, what?!” Gerald looked behind him, as if expecting someone to be there. He glanced around, confused, before seeing the teacher standing before him.

“It seems you are distracted by something, Your Highness.” The teacher’s eyes were cold.

Gerald started sweating nervously. “O- of course not! Umm.. I was just taking notes to your fascinating lecture on…” He trailed off, futilely looking at the board for some clue on the lecture topic, “Artifact reversal?”

The teacher raised an eyebrow. “I wrote that on the board yesterday.” Reaching forward, he snatched the book that Gerald had been writing in and glanced through it.

“Wait, no! That’s… secret royal stuff! Top secret… military stuff… you could be executed!”

Despite the young man’s desperate cries, the teacher calmly continued to turn pages. He paused, shaking his head slowly. “This…” sighing, he looked directly at Erin, making eye contact for a few awkward moments. His gaze seemed… pitying almost. Erin had a bad feeling.

The book snapped shut in his hands. “Talk to me after class, Prince Gerald.” The book was placed on his desk.

“… okay.” Gerald seemed like he wanted to argue, but instead hung his head and agreed.

The rest of the class went by quickly. Erin tried to catch Gerald’s attention, but all of his focus seemed to be on the book resting on the teacher’s desk. Once the lecture was done, Erin and Olivia packed up their things and left the room. They hung out around the classroom door, waiting for Gerald who had stayed behind to talk with the teacher.

“What do you think was in that book?” Olivia was trying to peek through the cracks around the door.

Erin sighed, leaning against the wall and shutting her eyes. “It’s probably better I don’t know, for the sake of my mental health.”

“Think it’s something dirty?”

Erin chuckled. “Gerald? No, if anything, it’s likely to be something embarrassing.”

“Yeah that’s right, we are talking about Gerald, a gentleman. He’s very different from the other boys, especially a certain idiot who also hangs around us.”

“What are you guys doing hanging around here? You look like delinquents.” Frederick was grinning as he walked up to join them,

“Speak of the devil.”

“You were saying something rude about me just now, weren’t you?”

Olivia shrugged. “Nothing that wasn’t true.”

“You want truth?” Frederick’s smile turned vicious. “How about…”

“SOOO.” Erin broke in, trying to prevent an argument. It wasn’t that she really minded them fighting, but once they got started it was hard to get them to stop, and they got annoying… fast. “What brings you here, Frederick? Shouldn’t you be next door?” Frederick wasn’t in the same class as them for magical theory, which was probably for the best as it limited the amount of time Olivia and him were in the same room.

“We have a break, and I wanted to come find you.”

“Haven’t you met your quota of annoying people today yet?” Olivia snapped.

Frederick rolled his eyes. “You obviously haven’t met your limit for asking stupid questions.” Turning back to Erin, he continued. “I wanted to remind you that we have a Student Council meeting this afternoon.”

Erin groaned. “Can I not come?”

“You were officially recognized as one of the most powerful students in the school, and the headmaster personally requested you be made the new vice president.” Frederick’s voice was dry. “I think he’ll notice if you don’t show up.”

“Wait.” Olivia stepped in between them. “Wasn’t that brat Wilhemina the student council vice president? The one who always picks fights with Erin?”

Frederick’s grin widened. “She used to be.” A low, ominous chuckle filled the hallway.

Erin patted him on the shoulder. “You’re doing your evil laugh again.”

“I can’t help it. Her face when I told her…” he sighed happily. “The misery was just so wonderful. I almost wish I could make her forget it so I can tell her all over again.”

Erin shook her head. “You’re disturbing, you do know that, right?”

“Thank you.” He shrugged. “The next best thing will be watching her having to deal with your newly promoted status.”

“Didn’t I take her place on the council?”

“Oh yes, and now she’s the secretary.” He clapped his hands gleefully. “She’s been demoted to your subordinate! It’s going to be the best student council meeting ever!”

“…” Erin honestly didn’t know how to reply to that. Fortunately, before the silence could grow too awkward, the classroom door opened. Gerald walked out, his face slightly pale, a large book clutched tightly to his chest.

“Hey…everyone.” Seeing his friends gathered in front of the door, he stopped in his tracks, greeting them awkwardly.

Olivia turned to him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s in the book?”

Gerald’s face froze, his hands quickly putting the object in question behind his back. “What book?”

“Buddy.” Frederick groaned loudly. “Don’t tell me you took that embarrassing thing out in class?”

Erin turned towards him. “You know what this is?”

“Know it? I’ve had the contents forcefully shoved down my throat every day since we got back!” He shuddered. “If only I could cleanse my brain. This is all your fault you know!”

“My fault?”  She looked back over at Gerald, questioning. In response his face turned red, and he looked down, scuffing his foot quietly against the pale stone floor.

“If it’s something you can’t show me, it’s fine.” Erin felt a little bad at how uncomfortable he had become.

“But ERIN!” Olivia protested.

“Don’t force him.” Erin grinned, placing a hand on Gerald’s shoulder. “Want to grab some lunch before practical lessons?”

Gerald muttered something so quietly she couldn’t understand.

“I’m sorry?”

“YOU CAN LOOK AT IT.” He thrust the book into her hands, and then covered his face.

Frederick laughed. “If you’re that embarrassed, then why did you make it?”

“Shut up.”

Erin held the book closed, studying Gerald’s face. “Are you sure? I don’t have to look.”

“You can.” He seemed resigned.

Curious, she opened it, and slowly started turning pages.

…

What was she supposed to say to this?!

Olivia looked over her shoulder before bursting out into laughter.

“Isn’t this a wedding planning diary?” Grabbing the book, she began reading page titles.

“Wedding locations, guest lists… future children names?” She almost dropped the book, unable to continue through her laughter.

Erin took it back, shaking her head with a smile. “It’s definitely…” She trailed off, unsure of what word to use.

“Weird?” Olivia supplied.

“Creepy?” Frederick joined in.

“Romantic?” Gerald’s face was hopeful.

Erin backed away slowly as they all stared at her. “…Interesting?”

She handed the book back to Gerald with a grin. “I’m glad you’re excited.”

“Excited?” Frederick snorted. “He’s talked about nothing else but the fact you’ve been engaged non stop since we got back.”

“Aww.” Olivia sighed. “That’s actually really sweet.”

“You’re not the one having to listen to it.”

“… good point.”

“...” 

Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Erin grabbed Gerald’s hand and pulled him away. 

“Excuse me, I think my fiancé and I need a moment alone.” She moved them quickly, not slowing down until they’d left their friends far behind. They paused beneath a tree, neither of them speaking for a moment.

“Can you say that again?” Gerald’s voice was quiet.

Erin was confused. “Say what?”

“What you called me…”

“My fiancé?”

He smiled, his whole body relaxing. “Yeah, that.” He finally met her gaze, and her heart beat a little faster at the joy she saw there. “I’ve had a lot of titles in my life, but I think that’s my absolute favorite.”

Erin couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m glad you like it.” She handed his book back to him.

“Well, don’t get too used to calling me that.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His face was mischievous. “Because eventually you’ll have to change it to ‘husband.’”

“You’re an idiot.” Erin looked away, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“For you? Always.”  He leaned in and gave her a tight hug, and held that position for a few long moments.

“Just promise me one thing?” Erin said into his chest, not pulling back from his embrace.

“Sure.”

“Keep the wedding planning to after class. We have the midterm exam coming up.”

Gerald shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”

“I’ll help you study, but actually paying attention in class would help.”

“Okay, got it. Keep all wedding planning activities to before and after class, or during breaks, every day.”

Erin decided to overlook the slight change in the wording in his promise.

“Thanks.”

Both unwilling to pull away, they stood there holding each other a little longer.

 “Éirinne de Roderick?” A voice called out, startling them into taking a step away from each other. A tall man with a stern expression stood closer than she expected, an envelope in his hand. Erin’s heart sank and her blood ran cold as she recognized him.

Gerald stiffened beside her, and she knew he had remembered the messenger as well.

“Isn’t this…?” Erin put a hand on his arm, stopping him from speaking further. Silently, she took the envelope from the man and read the note contained within.

 It was from her father... an order to return home.

She smiled, turning to face the messenger who stood confidently nearby.

“Are you ready to return?” His voice was just a little too proud, almost mocking as he waited for her reply.

Erin’s smile widened, and the man’s smug expression faded.

“Tell my father he can take his invitation…” She paused, the letter in her hand bursting into flames. “And burn with it in Hell.”

The messenger’s face turned pale. “You can’t refuse the General.”

“I believe I just did.”

“But… what am I supposed to tell him?” His eyes were wide with panic, the pride all gone from him.

Erin’s smile grew colder. “I told you the words to reply with. “

“I can’t say that to the General! He’ll kill me!”

“I don’t understand how that’s my problem.”

“But… But…”

“I’ll give you some free advice.” With a wave of her hand, an air spell formed around Erin, turning into a strong wind and lifting the messenger into the air by his neck. His color turning blue, he struggled desperately, his thrashing movements unable to free him from the grip of her magic. She brought him closer, until he was hanging just a short distance from her. A golden flame formed around her body, scorching the air around her.

“You should be less worried about my father, and much more worried about me.” 

The threat was whispered, the flames silent. The messenger looked as if he wanted to answer, but the grip of the wind magic around his throat prevented it. She waved her hand once more, and the magic moved, throwing the messenger a long distance away. Slowly, he struggled to his feet, hoarse shrieks of fear erupting from his damaged throat. As Erin watched him run away, the flames around her sputtered and died.

Before he was out of sight, she was walking away. 

“…” Gerald walked quickly to catch up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Erin…”

She turned her face away, not wanting him to see her expression. “It’s nothing.”

“But if you refuse to see him, won’t he come after you?”

“I don’t care.” 

He pulled her to a stop. “I thought you said you weren’t ready to fight him! What about your revenge?”

Erin shook her head. “I can’t…” She sighed, searching for the right words. “I won’t see him.”

“but…”

“He wants to force an engagement for his convenience. I won’t comply with him.”

“I…”

“If that means I have to fight him sooner, so be it. I won’t be his tool.” Her eyes rose to meet his gaze, a slight smile painting her features. “Things have changed.”

Gerald’ voice cracked on the single word. “Changed?”

“I have something else to fight for. Something I never thought I would have.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “A future.” Embarrassed by her own words, she stared down at her feet.

“…” There was only silence in response. Uncomfortable with how long he was taking to respond, she finally looked back up at him.

Gerald free hand was covering his face, his skin bright red between his fingers.

“Warn a guy before you say something like that.” He finally muttered.

Laughing, Erin kissed his cheek and then pulled him along towards the cafeteria.

“He won’t take your refusal well though.” Gerald squeezed her fingers. “Remember, I’ll help you no matter what.”

“I know.” Her happy expression faded, as she thought of her father’s likely response. “I’m ready.”

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins (part four)

summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

warnings: adult content, mature readers only.

authors note: please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this series, i kinda fucked up my list but i think i got everyone that has asked by memory lol or just let me know if you’d like to be tagged in general i’d be happy to!

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

A week had gone by and the sentiment of those three little words hadn’t been acknowledged since. Though they had full-heartedly meant it, the thought of where they stood in their relationship after saying so frightened them too much to delve into it, frankly. Instead, they buried those feelings in that very room, so that it was back to business as usual. And since then, Craig Russo had stayed away from the club like he was warned and his cousins still hadn’t come to Trigger Finger with guns blazing like they had worried. It was just too quiet which would have given someone from a different profession ease but for them, it sent them on edge. Alma knew that whatever could go wrong Bill could correct it. Reminding herself that even if he could seem careless he’d been in the game a lot longer than she had.

It was the following Monday after the Craig incident that Bill had asked Praline to stay after hours so that he could speak to her. Initially, he didn’t want to involve employees from the club in on any conflict. He’d rather they all stay in the dark while he took care of things behind the scenes so that they could stay focused on their work duties with a general peace of mind. And although he trusted Alma’s relay of information he wanted to hear it straight from the source and hopefully gather more details if there were any.

After Cooch left, he ordered Theo to stand guard outside the loft door and politely asked Praline to take a seat at his desk.

“So I heard you knew the guy we took out back? Is that right, hon’?” He lifted his brows as he leaned back on the front corner of his desk before her.

She looked nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her houndstooth two piece dress while shifting her eyes between Bill and Alma – who was sat in his desk chair. “I don’t know him, know him like that sir.”

“You don’t have to call me, sir. We’re just talking Rebecca,” he assured.  

She nodded taking a deep, shaky breath. “All I know is what I’ve told Echo. I haven’t talked to the girl in my complex in a few months. But I know she still works at Russo’s ‘cause we come home around the same time. I-I can tell cause the light shines under her door when I pass by to get to mine.”

“Hmm, but do you think he’s someone we should worry about?”

“Well… Kansas said you kicked his ass pretty good so probably not?”

Bill bowed his head with an amused expression on his face for a moment. “Alright, then thanks Rebecca,” he sighed. “Theo will walk you out.”

Praline slowly got to her feet with a helping hand from Bill. She paused at the threshold, turning her head to speak once more before departing “Sir, I’ll let you know if I see anything you need to know about. I actually really like my job here and I wouldn’t want to do anything to lose it.”

And nothing of importance had come up since then. That following weekend felt like a clean slate. Alma was in the loft alone, working on the bar staff payroll before doors opened but time had escaped her as she worked an hour into opening. She was typing away on a giant sputtering printing calculator when Bill came in with a giggling Violet at his side pulling at his tucked black button up.

“Oh shiiit,” Bill jumped seeing Alma at his desk. He quickly whispered in Violet's ear causing her to mope and whine at being sent away but happily squeaked when he slapped her ass on her way out. “Forgot you were in here workin’,” he said to Alma as he casually slipped his hands into his pants pockets and sauntered over. “Club’s open you know?”

“I noticed,” she said unfazed, typing on the number pad. “I’m almost done so… you’ll have the place to yourself in a minute,” she finally looked up at him adjusting her giant square framed glasses she held on to from adolescence. She was nearsighted but she used it as a crutch for concentration.

He smiled, “I like it when you wear your glasses. It makes you look so young.”

“Into young girls now?”

“Gross,” he snickered.

Alma rolled her eyes. “Joking. I look like a dork and you know it. Remember when dickhead Bruce knocked them off? Look,” she took them off, “the lens still has a chip in it,” she pointed out before putting them away in a drawer.

“Well that’s why I gave him a chipped tooth so,” he shrugged.

“And then you got a black eye and detention,” she smirked, shuffling pay stubs into a neat little pile. “I’m gonna head back down. How’s the scene down there?”

“Same ol’,” he got up when she did, following her out the loft. “I heard someone talking about you...” he looked at her with wagging brows.

“Let me guess Bundy?”

Bill lightly laughed, “Nah, I overhead Ben asking Kansas about you.”

“Does he want some blow?” She looked back at him as they descended down the stairs into the noisy, smoky club. She thought he’d stay behind but it seemed as if he forgot why he had gone up to the loft in the first place.

“Alma… I think he wants more than blow,” he chuckled under his breath. …

At the bar, Alma was back in work mode, pouring whiskey neat and slipping small baggies of coke into peoples palms on the sly. At this point she operated on autopilot, she didn’t need a verbal order or an inconspicuous nose tap signal. She was familiar with her regular clients and those who she didn’t know she could tell by their uncontrolled tensing jaw or by their leering blown pupil staring needing to re-up. Those who she felt iffy by she’d tell to meet her in the bathrooms where she made them take a hefty bump to prove to her that they weren’t affiliated with the DEA. Cops she never worried about, they were all in on it.

She was preparing a bucket of Coors for Ben, who had specifically asked for her service. He was alone in his usual booth wearing a charcoal silk dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, admiring Chastity spin upside down on the pole to the guitar riffs of a popular Aerosmith song. He had a pleased grin on his face while Alma approached, it made her blush which she felt silly for. It was strange when someone was genuinely into her, she treated all her prospects as transactions as they did with her but with Ben, it didn’t feel so much like that.

“Someone order a bucket?” She smiled setting it down on his table.

“Sure did,” he said reaching for a bottle to drink.

“You gonna drink these all on your own?”

“I was hoping you could help?”

Alma bit her lip shifting her eyes towards the busy bar where she was only met with the watchful eyes of Rashad and Paul who had been ordered by Bill to do so after the events of last week.

“C’mon,” Ben said gaining her attention. “A little break won’t hurt?”

“Fine, but only for a beer alright?”

“Good enough for me,” he patted the seat next to him.

Before she knew it they were finishing off the beers in the bucket she delivered. Both of them were in the throes of laughter over his stories about Wallstreet mishaps. She knew he was a charming man but to make her laugh so hard her belly hurt she was surprised by how personable he was. She could never have thought that she’d find common ground with a man of his caliber.

“Looks like we’re out,” Ben said placing his empty glass bottle topside down into the melting pool of ice.

“Oh! I’ll bring you another one. I need to go back to the bar, I-I didn’t realize,” she could feel the buzz she caught once she stood up but she took a deep breath to manage.

“Wait! You think you can dip out of here?”

“I… I’m not sure,” she chewed on her lip.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?” It was a polite suggestion but his assumption completely threw her off.

“My boy- my? I’m sorry, what?”

“The owner right? I mean, he’s been watching us the whole time?”

Alma took a glance behind her where Bill sat in the VIP section still staring, uncaring of how blatant it was. With a smirk on his face, he raised his glass to her taking the last sip of his bourbon.

“He’s just my boss,” Alma said to Ben. “Give me a sec’ could you?”

“By all means.”

She had to hustle towards the VIP booth in her thin high heels when she saw Portia on the fast track towards Bill as well. Alma swiftly slipped in next to him just before she could. It was stupid of Portia to even attempt to beat Alma to the booth, Bill would have dismissed her himself if she had managed to slip in before her. Yet she flashed a miffed snarled lip before spinning around in her stilettos. Besides Portia, who liked to test her limits, the rest of the girls knew that Alma always had first priority of his attention. They never bothered to vie for it for the most part.

“Well hello,” Bill chuckled.

“Could you do me a favor? This one time, please!” She nearly begged.

Bill sat up, amused. “Depends.”

“The bars closing soon, I just need you to collect the cash from the bar for me.”

“And why can’t you do that?”

“Ben asked me out...”

His amusement faded. “Asked you out?” He rolled his eyes. “Are you being serious? Alma -”

“Just this one and only time. I’ll be back to help count – what’s that like an hour and a half from now?”

Bill rubbed his forehead with his hand, letting it slide down to the lower half of his face where it settled. He contemplatively gazed into her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath to speak. She braced herself.

“Here,” he said reaching into his back pocket, “take my pager.”

Alma relieved, happily took possession of it. She was expecting him to make a bullshit excuse as to why she had to stay and work, that, or just a stern ‘no’. “I swear I won’t be long.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “But page me the address, I’ll be checking the spare in the loft.”

“Okay,” she said scooting out of the VIP booth but she was anchored back when Bill held on to her hand. “What?” She mouthed to him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

Alma blushed, “well if I did that, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”

“Just a quick one,” he punctuated with a coy smile.

She timidly bit her lip before obliging him with a peck on the lips. Until he laced his fingers through hair deepening the kiss, his tongue grazing her bottom lip. It was a reminder. It was a silent ‘I love you’.

“Okay, okay,” Alma backed away, shaking her dizzied head. “He’s watching.”

“I know. Need some cash before you go?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re using you’re own money?” He raised a brow at her.

“No, silly I’m using Ben’s if I have to.”

“Good girl,” he said watching her walk away and into the arms of a dashing, grinning Ben. They stopped by the bar for her to inform the crew she’d be gone and to quickly grab her clutch from under the register.

Bill sighed, bowing his head and drawing a cigarette out from his pack. Lighting it, he took a long drag while leaning back in his seat catching the last glimpse of Alma, smiling and laughing out the club door. It hit him then that he hadn’t seen her eyes light up like that in some time. A pang of guilt tightened his chest when he couldn’t remember when that last time was. …

The joking banter between Alma and Ben had seemed to take a halt when all they listened to was a blaring cringey rock ballad on the radio as they rode along the New York streets in his Mercedes. The silence was mostly Alma’s as she was being cautious in remembering every turn as they traveled to his “luxury two bedroom” apartment as he described. She didn’t entirely trust him, he was just a man after all. Her eyes glanced over at Ben, who was reaching into the breast pocket of his silk shirt, producing three pink pressed pills debossed with an arrow pierced heart in the center.

“Wanna try some?” He asked.

“I’m good I’ve brought some blow,” she said. She wasn’t in the mood to do ecstasy, especially not with someone she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with.

“Oh c’mon, I can half one for you?”

Alma took a pill from his offering palm and tucked it into an empty card slot in her clutch. “Why don’t you take one and I’ll think about it?”

Ben stared at the pills contemplating her suggestion before shrugging and popping one into his mouth, dry swallowing it. “Suit yourself.”

“Oh I will,” she said tapping a large mound of coke on the web between her thumb and index finger, snorting it without so much of wince.

He slowly pulled to the side of a curb outside a regular old complex. She was surprised at the short drive, Ben didn’t live so far from the club – he lived on no man's land. Just a single neutral block between the few that separated Trigger Finger’s turf from The Russo’s. She followed him up to his place, which although looked like any old place on the exterior, the interior was quite lavish. Her heels fell on white marble floors all the way to his loft. It was decked out like a general bachelor pad except that everything he decorated with was of quality and in neutral brown tones too. He even had a taxidermied antelopes head above a lava rock fireplace in his living room which he gave a quick spiel about how he acquired it during a hunting trip in the Rockies. Alma didn’t feel he was being honest about that, he didn’t seem like the hunting type. He was a slightly burly built man but he definitely did strike her as rugged.

“Would you like a drink?” Ben asked pointing at his bar cart.

“No thanks. Your place is really… nice? I feel like I should have a better word for it but-”

“Oh no worries, thank you. I’m not here a lot, I don’t like how… alone? I feel I guess?”

Alma lightly giggled. “It’s kicking in isn’t it?” How vulnerable he was being would have been flattering hadn’t she known he’d taken ecstasy on the ride over.

Ben chuckled. “My heart’s going a mile a minute but I can also hear it in my ears like, like a hummingbirds wings – look,” he took her small hand in his, placing it on his muscled chest, “see.”

Under her palm, she could feel the thumping of his fast beating heart but seemed pretty normal for someone under the influence. “Seems to me you’re alive and feeling pretty good to me,” she smiled at him and before she knew it their lips crashed together.

He was rough almost too rough than she liked but she took it. Allowing her to experience a different man and understand his needs. He slammed her against the edge of the living room wall just before sliding her around the corner into the hallway corridor. She could feel his growing erection through the thin fabric of her dress as he involuntarily ground against her. His hands harshly groped alongside her body, his thumbs digging between her ribs. Until down, down he reached her bottom, slipping his hands under her red dress so that he could knead the plump flesh of her bottom. In one swift movement, he lifted her on to his hips walking down the short hall and taking her to a room on the right where he threw her onto the bed. Alma finally took a breath now that she was broken away from his lips. She took it upon herself to lift her dress over her head showing him that she was wearing only a skimpy lace bra underneath. From his throat erupted a low growl, seeing the girl he most coveted from the club now in his bed, legs spread and pussy wet waiting for him to enter.

“I bet you’ve only dreamed of this,” she said trailing her hand from her breast down to her core, running her fingers through her own slickness.

“Dreamed? I’ve fucking jerked off to this sight,” Ben said rubbing his erection through his trousers with one hand and the other unbuttoning his shirt.

Alma had to resist the urge to roll her eyes from his statement. Surely, there could have been a more eloquent way of saying that. Perhaps even sexier? Instead, she decided to match his energy. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

“Hold on,” he said striding to the side of the bed producing a condom and an untied tie from the nightstand. Alma grew worried then, she wasn’t into bondage, at least not with any old somebody. She eased when she watched him put it around his own neck and then crawled like a preying lion from the end of the bed, between her legs and up her body, connecting their lips once more. They adjusted so that she was on top helping him with pulling down his trousers as he took his shirt off revealing his hirsute chest. She straddled him, rolling the condom on his average length before inching down slowly onto him, enveloping him as they both hissed at the feeling. He took her hips in his hands coaxing her into a fast rhythm.

“Pull the tie,” he grunted.

“Huh?”

“Pull!”

Balancing one hand on his chest she pulled the smaller end of the silk tie like he ordered, tightening the loop around his neck. It wasn’t too weird but she was usually the one asking Bill, and only him, to choke her. She continued at the pace that he urged her on and she worried that he might bust if she carried on yet she didn’t care as long as she got off first. She was reaching her peak, the bed frame rocking against the wall in a rhythmic thud. Her eyes her shut tight, images of Bill flooding her mind helping her get there.

“Pinch my nipples,” Ben choked out, pulling her out of it. Instead, she pulled the tie harder. His face turning a bright shade of violet. “Pinch,” he still managed to choke out to her dismay.

“Shut up! I fucking heard you,” she said squeezing her eyes shut, trying to extract the images of Bill once again from her mind. She was close and the memory of Bill hovering above her, thrusting relentlessly came to mind as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She could hear Ben’s voice again but she ignored it – her orgasm overcoming her when she remembered that sweet soft ‘I love you’ Bill has murmured in her ear. “Shut up! Oh, fuck!” She cried as she bounced on Ben’s dick. “FUCK!” Her eyes snapped open, disappointed that Bill wasn’t beneath her at that moment, her hips stalled yet her thighs shook.

Ben was pinching his own left nipple while the other had hold of her hand that was consistently tightening the tie around his neck, “Get off,” he choked, shoving her lightly.

Alma slid off of him ashamed thinking she did something wrong until he asked her to pinch his free nipple for him.

“Really?”

“Fucking do it,” he said lurching up, taking a tight grip of her throat. It was scary, surely he could snap her neck if he wanted to. So she promptly reached for his nipple pinching and twisting sharply. He let go of his own nipple then reaching down to unsheathe himself to jerk his bare length. Alma was slightly disturbed by it all. She couldn’t figure if it was the ecstasy or was this how he always liked it?

“Slap me!”

“I-If you let go of my neck,” she said hoarsely.

He was way too high to even consider her at that moment all he cared about was getting off. And so she drew her free hand back and slapped him with such a force it made her own hand sting red. He released her throat falling back on the bed coming on his own hairy belly in pathetic dribbles. Alma sat there appalled, feeling dirty and cheap as he relished in his own orgasm. She rolled off the bed, grabbing her dress off the floor before he could come back down to earth. She slipped her dress on as she walked out of the room. Which she noticed was his spare bedroom, he didn’t even give her courtesy of fucking her on his own bed.

“Alma!?”

“Goodnight Ben!”

“Hold on! Wait!”

She heard his call but she scrambled to gather her pager and clutch that had fallen forgotten on the living floor and she was out the door, jogging out the complex startling the doorman she had neglected to notice before when she was still starry-eyed. She was pacing by the curbside contemplating on hailing a cab but she decided to take the cold trek back feeling undeserving of even a simple luxury such as that. …

After collecting the bar money for Alma, Bill sat at his desk checking the spare pager that she didn’t even bother to beep. He was annoyed, rubbing his brow. It wasn’t like her but Alma was a grown woman capable of handling herself, he begrudgingly had to remind himself.

“Uh, Cooch?” Bill said to her as she counted money in the lounge area of the loft. “We should call it a night, yeah? I’ll get this all counted, don’t worry.”

“You sure boss?”

“Positive. You should rest up you had a gnarly set today.”

“Right! But you alright? I don’t mean to pry but I notice Alma’s not here?” She said pushing the mound of cash on the coffee table into a mesh laundry bag.

“Alma went out tonight. She was supposed to beep me and… I don’t know. I’m kinda worried?”

“Ah, I’m sure she’s on her way back.” She got up gathering her tote of nightly earnings and dirty clothes to wash. “And it’s okay to feel something once an awhile you know? You don’t have to be stonecold around me and especially not Alma. She loves you.”

He felt his chest tighten again when she said that. “You’re right,” he sighed. “Bianca,” he said just before she stepped out. “I really appreciate you, we made it this far with your help too.”

“Thanks, boss. See ya tomorrow,” she winked.

Instead of counting bills like he said he would he took the bags over to a cabinet where inside held a secret compartment door that he had to press three unmarked corners in a specific order so that it would pop open revealing a safe that was built into the wall just behind it. He pushed aside his and Alma’s various coats hanging inside and shoved the money inside joining the neatly banded and stacked cash inside. With that done, he plopped down onto his office chair checking the pager knowing there would be no new message. He contemplated on going out to look for her when suddenly she burst through the door, holding onto her frame as she shivered.

“What the fu-” his words died in his throat and his annoyance had completely faded when she looked at him with tearful eyes. “Alma? What happened?”

Shaking her head she stepped out of her shoes that had rubbed the back of her heels sore from the walk. “I’m okay,” she cleared her throat.

“What did he do to you?” He came over to her side but she distanced herself. On closer inspection, she saw the red marks lingering on her neck and developing bruises peeking out from the side of her backless dress. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No! Bill, he didn’t hurt me on purpose. He’s a high paying customer you don’t want to lose his business or his friends business either, okay. I-I just want to forget it.”

“That’s bullshit! I don’t give a fuck about his money?!”

“Stop it, Bill. Don’t make it worse than what it was. He was high off X and he’s… he’s just a fucking weirdo, just leave it at that. Please.”

“God damn it, Alma,” he ran a hand through his hair, stressed that he couldn’t do anything at that moment.

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Just leave it!” She all but yelled. “I have something to tell you if you’d let me?”

“Fine then-”

“Boss,” Theo said with alarm in his voice as he walked into the loft, his gun drawn to his side. “We’ve got company.”

Bill and Alma shared a knowing look and together they sighed, “aw fuck...”

PART FIVE

tags: @dreamtherapy @bskarsgardlove92 @tinygayfungi@skarswhat @nutinanutshell @xskarsgardx @reinamysterio @darling-dearest-desired @erika-beau-berika @fine-i-suppose @corlin90 @codependentcellist  @loveforbillskasgard  @kikilikes  @twosupergayghosts @umbriellethenightfall @tigers-pat

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[dreamscript]

sankofa | myg x reader x pjm

sankofa; // “se wo were fi na wosankofa a yenkyi”

You, Yoongi, Jimin, playing in the woods. The perfect three - until now. Now you’re childhood friends breaking apart, emotional rollercoasters, children feeling wronged. There’s something missing and you’re fighting against it.

     ➟ yoongi x reader x jimin

     ➟ slice of life au.

     ➟ 4.1k of angst with a restful ending          ↳ tw: suicide mention

Summer is something else. Yoongi and Jimin and you under the hazy sun, green forest grass prickly through the thin towels you lie on. Cicadas make their loud, buzzing, hissing sound, competing with the flitting birds and fleeting squirrels. In front of you the lake shimmers, its murky waters bright. Trees line the clearing, overwhelmingly green.

“Can we fish?” Yoongi asks. “I don’t want the worms to get gross from the heat.” He’d spent all last night digging them up, completely overturning a corner of Jimin’s backyard before giving up and plowing through his father’s garden.

“Sure,” you reply, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Jimin, you wanna join?”

No response. Jimin remains spread eagle on his towel, Gathering Blue opened upside down on his face. Sleeping.

“Jimin.” You poke him. When that elicits no response, you shove his shoulder, a bit harshly. The book tumbles off, exposing him to the bright sunlight.

“Nn-whaaat,” he mumbles, slinging an arm over his still-closed eyes.

“I asked if you wanted to fish with me and Yoongi.” To your left, Yoongi rolls his eyes, already stringing the fish rods and tying on the hooks. The worms in his plastic bug terrarium are limp and unmoving, save for one on top which wiggles weakly.

“Mmm,” Jimin mumbles.

“What was that?” you ask.

“We need an actual response from you, Jimin. Words,” Yoongi adds.

“I said sure,” Jimin says, still lying on his back. His speech is slurred.

“Then get up.”

“‘m lazy. ‘elp me.”

With a sigh and a groan, you roll your eyes and get on your knees, tugging at Jimin’s arms. They’re limp, just like the worms that Yoongi pierces through the hooks. You tug harder, enough to pull him up into a sitting position.

Slumped forwards, he rubs his eyes sleepily and looks up at you, wide eyes blinking open. They are brilliant, bright and evocative. And then he smiles, and it’s contagious. You smile and laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Yoongi gives one of his eyebrow raises and claps his hands sarcastically.

“Now let’s fish, losers,” Yoongi says, shoving the rods your way.

You guys end up catching nothing, but it’s fine since it was more about the camaraderie than the fish.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s ‘cause we’ve been sitting still in the sun for so long. I need to cool down.” Yoongi grabs his tank top and uses it to wipe the sweat from his face.

Jimin can’t swim, but he doesn’t mind it when you and Yoongi jump into the lake together and have fun without him, splashing water at each other and playing one-versus-one Marco Polo. He laughs uncontrollably when Yoongi blindly drives himself in a circle, arms flailing, as you artfully maneuver about him, out of range. When it gets too hot he lets his feet dangle in the water.

“You know Jimin,” Yoongi says, wiping his wet locks back, “Why don’t you try learning how to swim? I can teach you. My brother worked as a lifeguard last summer.”

Immediately, Jimin shakes his head. “Um, no I’m good, thanks.”

Yoongi gives him a look, puts a hand on his knee. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah Jimin, c’mon. You’ll be fine! And then you can swim in the water! Tha’d be so fun!” you encourage.

“No,” Jimin says. “I don’t wanna. It’s scary.”

“What, the water? You literally drink that stuff every day!”

“No,” he says. “Like, what if there’s something down there? Like a barracuda?”

“But there isn’t!” Yoongi says, somewhat frustrated.

“But how can you know? You can’t see what’s in there! For all I know, a barracuda could be down there, waiting for me to go deep enough to bite my legs off.”

“But there isn’t--”

Jimin refuses, vehemently shaking his head.

“Let it go, Yoongi,” you say. “It’s a fear he’s had since he was five. C’mon, let’s eat lunch.”

 The food is bagged sandwiches cut on the diagonal, slapped together the night before, the mayonnaise having soaked through and the slices soggy. Chips and PopTarts and Coke lie in the cooler, up for grabs.

“Man,” Jimin says, “I don’t want school to start.”

“We’ve still got a month and a half,” Yoongi replies through a mouthful of sandwich, “Don’t think about it just yet. Else you’ll spend the whole time worrying instead of enjoying.”

You nod vigorously in agreement.

 <<<>>> 

 “I miss summer already,” Yoongi grumbles, methodically picking the tomatoes from his sandwich. “I can’t wait to be done with the semester and be done with Ms. Scola.”

“She’s only strict because she’s preparing you for high school, Yoongi.”

Yoongi shoots Jimin a glare. “No, she’s being a--what’s it--bitch because that’s what she is!”

“Hey,” you say, flicking Yoongi on the forehead. “Language.”

He rolls his eyes. “Everyone in my grade uses those words now. It’s the cool thing to do. Only babies don’t curse. And plus, you’re not my mom.”

Through his mouthful of sandwich, Jimin mumbles, “Yah she ith, tha’th wha’ all the paren’th th’ay.”

“Whatever. Point is: I can’t wait for summer to come around again. I wanna fish some more… Oh, and Jimin, we gotta teach you to swim still!”

“Noo,” Jimin whines. “I’m scared. I don’t wanna.”

“Oh what, still scared of barracudas in the lake?” Yoongi pokes him teasingly. Jimin pouts and says nothing. “Okay, okay fine. Once the community finishes building that pool, we’ll take you there to play and stay in the shallow end, okay?” He gives him a smile. Jimin nods, tentatively.

“That’ll still be a while, though,” you say. “The board says it won’t be done until we’re in 8th grade, 9th for Yoongi. That’s an entire two years.”

 <<<>>> 

 The cafeteria table is empty. The table that you, Jimin, and Yoongi sat at every day. Empty. Usually one of them is there waiting. With a sigh, you sit down, set down your tray and begin to eat.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Yoongi come in, hanging with a few boys from your math class.

“Yoongi!” you shout, waving at him. The only acknowledgement you get is a flick of his eye in your direction. And then he looks away, mumbles something to his friends who point at you and continue on into the kitchen. You frown.

“Bit sensitive today, isn’t he? Maybe it’s an 8th-grader thing.”

You jump in your seat, whirl around. Jimin is sitting a foot away from you, a playful smile on his face.

“Jimin, fuck, you scared the shit out of me!” You hold your hand over your chest for good measure. “When’d you get here?”

He props one of his hands underneath his chin and tilts his face sideways, a sweet, lopsided smile on his face. “The same time you got here.”

 <<<>>> 

 Soft flakes of snow, gentle as falling feathers, land onto Jimin’s eyelashes. Yoongi peers into his eyes as he piles up snow and throws it into the air, watching the explosion of white until both him and Jimin have to close their eyes.

At their feet lay an intricate network of snow tunnels, just barely enough to slide through, the corners too tight for even you to turn. It is still four days of work’s worth.

Up ahead, you dangle from the deck, ready to jump onto the firm pile of snow below.

“Three! Two! One!” Jimin and Yoongi count down together, laughing. You jump and they catch you with their smiles, you landing firmly and giving them the thumbs up.

At noon sharp Yoongi helps Jimin crack eggs into mixing bowls and Jimin beats him in a game of who-can-mix-the-fastest. By one o’clock you’re messily spreading homemade buttercream onto the cakes with a butter knife and, ten minutes later, Yoongi is spreading it all over Jimin’s face with his hands, and Jimin has half of Yoongi’s face coated in crumbs.

White stars peek out from the holes of the sky when Yoongi walks Jimin home, side by side, sleds dragging in rhythm.

“We’ll both be back tomorrow,” they promise. “Tomorrow.”

 <<<>>> 

             You sigh, shake your head, and erase your answer for the hundredth time. School has been getting harder these days, teachers more strict, curriculum increasingly rigorous. Yoongi and Jimin used to always be there to help you, but this year Yoongi is taking another course, and Jimin…

            “C’mon, you can do it.” You look up from your paper and see Jimin, who is examining the problem. He looks up at you and smiles encouragingly. “You’re close,” he says. “You’re just making a stupid mistake.” To his left, his homework is already finished.

            “Or maybe I’m just stupid,” you mumble, glumly staring down at the smudged writing.

            “Don’t say that,” Jimin says. He reaches out and ruffles your hair. “I think you’re very smart. But every smart person makes mistakes. And that’s okay.”

            You pout and bite the end of your pencil. “That’s cute. But thanks for the support, Jimin.”

            He beams. “No problem. Anyways, keep working. I’ve got to go pee.”

            When he leaves, you look at your spider plant, chin resting heavily on one hand. “They’re all going away now, aren’t they? Jimin, Yoongi… They’re all drifting farther away from me.”

            The plant remains silent.

            “Each day I don’t think about it is a day I start to forget.”

(Jimin doesn’t come back.)

 <<<>>> 

             Three days into Yoongi’s no-contact streak, you’re assigned to work as project partners.

Both of you reluctantly, slowly, look at each other, awkwardly maintaining eye contact as if to establish the fact that no, it’s not like I want to partner up with you or anything, I’m only doing it because you’re asking and I’m nice so--

            “Alright, let’s just get this project over with.” Yoongi saunters up to your desk and pulls up a chair directly across from you. The project paper is on your desk and he leans over to study it, reading upside down and incredibly close.

Conversation for the most part is as normal, but pertinent only to the project. It’s during the last ten minutes of the class and a good time of normality that you finally get the courage to talk to him like, well normal. Non-project-related things.

“Hey Yoongi--”

He turns to look at you. “Yeah?” His gaze is intense.

“Did you want to go pick up some flowers with me?  Jimin--”

Immediately, he interjects. “Stop. Don’t talk about him. Don’t mention him around me.”

You fall silent. Then:

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

 <<<>>> 

             The sky is so saturated in reds and oranges and purples that sometimes it’s hard to tell where it stops and the ocean begins. Your silhouetted figures dance along the horizon, feet splashing across the lagoon, sending endless ripples into the sky.

            The very beauty of it all is so overwhelming that when Jimin lays down to rest, Yoongi takes the chance to pull you close and then drags you both further along the horizon, leaving Jimin to stare into the purpling sky alone.

            “Hey,” he says, smelling of sea salt and ocean air, “I need to tell you something.”

            “Hey,” you reply. “I need you to tell me something.”

           You shake your head. “I can’t, it would be mean to Jimin…”

            “He’ll get over it,” Yoongi says, almost rushing to meet you. “It’s probably just a phase, a middle-school sort of thing. C’mon, he’s already talked to me about it before.”

            “Yeah, and that didn’t seem to go so well for you two,” you retort. “Before you know it, he’s going to talk to me.”

            “Tell him to get over it,” Yoongi says. “It’s Jimin, after all. He’s always been our smiley, happy, best friend. And I don’t think anything in the world can change that.”

 <<<>>> 

 During the switch from lunch to your afternoon classes, Yoongi stops you. He grabs you by the arm, his hand hot on your skin.

“Hey,” he says, tugging you out of the crowd and into a relatively quiet hallway. You look up at him and, as if suddenly remembering something, he lets go. “Are you free after school today?”

“Um,” you say, confused. He hardly talks to you like normal anymore, refuses to even hear Jimin’s name from you, and now he’s asking if you’re free? “Sure, yeah.”

 <<<>>> 

             “What’s up?” Jimin asks, unzipping his lunch box. As per usual now, it’s just you two sitting at the lunch table now. Yoongi no longer comes by, as if repulsed by something. You’re guessing it’s probably you.

As if reading your thoughts, Jimin looks down at the table. “I’m sorry. I think Yoongi doesn’t come by anymore because of me. I don’t think he likes me.”

“No,” you say. “It’s because of me.”

“Oh come on,” Jimin says, taking out his sandwich. “You know I’m involved in it, too.”

You look at him, sipping your juice box. “Yeah. I know.”

Jimin is walking out of the door now, lunch gone. “I guess we’re not walking back to school together today? We used to always do that, you know. The three of us.”

“Yeah,” you reply, teeth hitting against the straw of your juice box. “We did.”

 <<<>>> 

 You and Yoongi remain in tense silence, you standing in the corner of the empty classroom corner, him leaning against a wall, arms crossed. He looks as if he is thinking about something he can’t quite put into words.

“I need to tell you something,” he says, slowly. He refuses to make eye contact and continues to stare straight ahead, out the window.

“Look Yoongi, if it’s about me and Jimin--”

“It’s fine,” he interjects, looking at you with stormy eyes, clearly hiding a stronger, negative feeling underneath. “I’m just learning to put it all behind me. I want to forget about it all.”

<<<>>>  

Yoongi refuses to even look at you anymore. It’s as if he’s a storm incoming, brewing angrily from afar. And you know why, now. You’d suspected it from the start. But you still refused to accept it, wanting to hold onto all of the traditions and happiness.

Where had all those good times gone, anyways? Somewhere far, distant. Somewhere you were starting to forget.

 <<<>>> 

             “So, how are you and Yoongi?” Jimin asks. “You two haven’t been getting along recently, it seems.”

            You clench your fist. “Don’t worry about it. It’s dumb.”

            “But I am worrying about it.” Jimin peers at you from the couch. It’s his favorite spot. “Tell me. Please?”

            “Fine.” You turn to him. “Yoongi’s mad at me. Indefinitely. That’s all.”

            “And why’s that?” Jimin is standing a few feet from you. You remain silent. “C’mon, tell me,” he prods.

            Yoongi? Why’s he mad at you? You remember the conversation and begin to feel your emotions building up.

            “Tell me,” Jimin repeats. He’s sitting at your kitchen table now, hands folded neatly on his lap.

“I don’t know why Yoongi is so mad at me!” you shout, frustrated. “Well no, actually I do know why, but it’s not my fault! And he thinks it is!”

Jimin looks up at you, his face is passive. “What is your fault?”

You turn and look at him, eyes narrowed. “Oh--you know, you know what happened, you know--and he thinks it’s all my fault! He won’t even let me bring you up, can’t stand it!”

“So whose fault is it?” Jimin asks.

You’re pacing now, anger growing. “I don’t know!” You throw your hands in the air, let them drop to your sides. “Just because we got into an argument before it happened doesn’t mean I’m the one at fault, no one’s dramatic enough to go and and do that after just one argument!” You look at him. “Right?”

“Then whose fault is it?” Jimin asks again.

“Not mine!” you cry out in frustration. You turn away from him. “Yoongi can’t blame it on me! He’s your best friend, he’s with you all the time, and plus, he also got in an argument with --”

“But I’m your best friend too.”

“I mean yeah - but like,” you say, beginning to cool down. “But like it’s different, you know, Yoongi is blaming it on me, when we both, you know, got into arguments and--”

“So whose fault is it?” Jimin asks again.

“It’s not my fault,” you reply, sounding more unsure. “It’s, it’s…”

You turn around, but Jimin is already gone. The cream colored curtains billow in the breeze coming from an open window.

“...our fault.”

 <<<>>> 

  “So.”

“So.”

“I’ve already had this talk with Yoongi before,” Jimin begins.

“Yeah, I know,” you interject. “He told me. That you talked with him.”

Jimin looks a bit broken. “Oh? So you already know, then?”

“Depends. What were you going to say?” you’re bracing yourself, continuously rethinking what Yoongi told you, it’s just a phase, there’s not a thing in the world that could possibly change Jimin forever. Nothing bad is really going to happen. That stuff just doesn’t happen to us.

“Well I, I,” Jimin stammers. He fidgets with his shirt. “I’ve just been feeling so - so - empty inside. Like, everyone feels like holograms and things just don’t make me all that happy anymore. I searched it up and, and I have depression. It’s a mental condition, you see? And my parents don’t really believe in it, like, my mom told me I don’t even have the guts to kill myself and my dad says I’m not that mentally bad.”

“Jimin, I’m really sorry to hear that,” you say, sounding more confused and flustered than sympathetic. “Are you sure it isn’t a phase, or something?”

“I’m sure. It’s not, it’s not! I’m telling you this because I need help, you see? I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”

You give him a tentative smile. “Hey, Jimin, I know it’s been a stressful time for you, with school and everything. But I’m sure it’ll be fine; just go out, have fun. Destress. Do things that make you happy. Easy, you know? Just gotta be more optimistic… stop being so pessimistic about life, I guess. See the positive stuff.”

“Things don’t make me happy anymore. Positivity is a sham. No one understands,” he says, broken. “No one.” And then he takes off.

Gone.

 <<<>>> 

 Yoongi takes one look at you, turns around, and slams the door shut, but not before you wedge your foot in the door crack. He turns. You glare.

“We need to talk. About Jimin. Trying to just bury this all in the past isn’t going to work. Forgetting is not the right way of going about this.”

“For you, maybe,” Yoongi says. “Now leave. We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“No.” You stare him dead in the eye. “It’s not fair to Jimin, forgetting about him, about our friendship. So please. Let’s have this one last talk.”

 <<<>>> 

 Jimin doesn’t smile much anymore. In fact, he hardly smiles at all. You almost forget what it looks like. And then you forget that he is even there anymore.

He leaves a note, taped onto your window, on at 3 a.m. and gone by 4.

Maybe in my next life you’ll teach me to swim.

 <<<>>> 

 “Listen - Yoongi. I know it’s been hard on the both of us these past few months, ever since Jimin left us.”

In his room, Yoongi turns to look at you, seething. His eyes are full of pent-up rage, emotion, grief. He’s lost something, you’ve lost something, and you’re both feeling wronged.

“Stop,” he says lowly, eyes narrowed. “Stop talking as if you could understand.”

“And stop talking as if I couldn’t. He was my best friend too.”

“No, Shut UP!” Yoongi roars. “Shut up! Jimin is dead. You don’t understand how hard it is for me to live every day without him.” He closes his eyes, sucks in a huge breath. “I can’t think of a day I’ve gone without him.”

Yoongi takes in deep, shuddering breaths. “He killed himself. And it’s almost as if you don’t care at all about that sadness. It feels like you drove him to it.”

Unknown tears are streaming down your face but your voice is still clear. “And you? What do you think you did, huh? Nothing? You think that you’re completely innocent, don’t you? Must be nice getting to sit here and think that all the blame is on someone else!”

Yoongi grits his teeth.

“Well, wake up call, Yoongi,” you spit. “You’re in the wrong, too. We both know what happened to you and Jimin before he came to me, how you both ended in a split before going to the beach and I felt it, you know? I felt it so bad it was the only thing I could think about that entire trip. That beautiful sunset, the lagoon, I wanted to enjoy it all with you but instead I couldn’t. Because something was missing from my life and it was us. Our friendship. And don’t think I don’t remember what you told me then, either. Because I do. And I listened to you. I listened to you because I didn’t know what the fuck else to do, and now we’re here because we were too dumb and naive to think anything bad could happen to us.”

 <<<>>> 

 The forest is misty at 4 am. Grey, thick, clouds float through the trees like ghosts. You’re running, because something bad is going to happen, something. The only sound is your panting and footsteps stomping and bending the blades of dewy grass.

“Jimin!” You call, looking about wildly. “Jimin where are you?”

In the distance you hear a noise; you push your legs ever harder, sprinting through the fog. But you’re slow, as if running in a dream, mind moving faster than body, body moving faster than legs.

And then there is the lake. Bubbles, bubbles. Jimin’s shoes by the edge of the water, the pair you and Yoongi bought for him for his birthday, unlaced. Bubbles, still. You run faster. The bubbles are gone. You jump in, body immediately seizing from the cold.

You can’t see anything, so you blindly grope around, listening for the sound of another body. Jimin, he couldn’t be down here, he shouldn’t be. The boy who was too afraid to learn to swim because he was scared of barracudas and the murky mysteries that lurked underneath. The boy who always sat at the edge and never further.

“Jimin,” you try to say, bubbles spewing from your mouth. “Jimin, where are you?”

There is no response. You stay until your lungs burn and you have to resurface to get air. Jimin is gone.

<<<>>>

“I didn’t mean it--I valued him so much I didn’t think it was true, okay?” Yoongi wipes away at his reddened eyes, snot and tears smearing in a translucent mess.  “Anyways, what’s the point now? Huh? He’s gone. Every day I try to forget and put it all behind me so I can move on with my life. I think you should too.” He says the last sentence with conviction.

“No, I want you to remember--”

“And don’t you think it’s a little selfish of you? To make me want to do something that clearly hurts me so much?”

“Look, Yoongi,” you say. “I know. I fucking understand. And I’m fucking sorry. But listen up, you stubborn ass! Just forgetting your problems isn’t the way to go; any four-year old should know that! Just because you close your eyes doesn’t mean the milk isn’t spilled and the glass isn’t shattered. If anything, you gotta remember the happy moments and learn from the sad. Forgetting about things isn’t going to save your future friends and will only give you some semblance of happiness. Jimin was a huge part of your life--as he was in mine--so he was also a huge part of your happiness too and you can’t discount that.”

You and Yoongi are glaring into each other’s eyes, hands at each other’s collars, both taking in deep breaths.

“There’s nothing wrong with going back and remembering all the good times that we are both forgetting.”

 <<<>>> 

             Your reflections are distorted by the flowers--white lilies, Jimin’s favorite--that one by one you and Yoongi drop onto the lake. Side by side. Because even though he’s not actually there to wrap his arms around your shoulders, Jimin is still with you, with Yoongi, dropping the flowers right into the lake beside you as he peers into the murky waters he was so afraid of.

But it’s okay, he says. Because he has two best friends who are there to keep him company. And help him remember happiness.

 <<<>>> 

 sankofa; “se wo were fi na wosankofa a yenkyi”:

it is not taboo to go back and fetch what is at risk of being forgotten.

an: (its been 5ever ik my dudes) i wrote this for my long fiction for my writing sem and my professor never got around to reading it like she just put in our final grades for the semester without even looking at our final two portfolios lmao