"No, that wasn’t it."

serenalockhart:

{As eyes meet her own, Serena gives a small smile.} I’m glad someone likes it. Rain and snow… I’ve always liked them both.. It’s peaceful until the thunder comes in. {She sighs softly, then, as she’s presented with the opportunity, sits beside Genevieve, back sagging against the cushion of the small couch as she sips her drink, letting the warmth soak into her fingers.} Me? Ah, just a headache. Nothing some caffeine won’t fix. How about you? Why have you ventured out of the madhouse? {Serena keeps her nonchalance. Of course she’d never say anything. After her near panic attack down at the beach yesterday, she’d decided that her old strategy suited her best: Don’t think about it. Not until she was alone and it was unavoidable. Then, she’d allow the time to come. But for now, denial and alcohol would be her closest friends.}

image

"It makes me nostalgic. For the times when I was young and Seb and I would run around the house like mad children. Putting on shows and plays and me singing to pop songs and dragging him along with me. We were quite the pair. It reminds me of… good times. Ha — I sound like a fucking sap." Rolling her eyes at herself, she leaned into the comfort of the couch. She could still feel Matthew’s arms wrap around her as he told her that he would help her be better. That he would be there for her. Those arms kept her warm, those arms were… everything to her. "Me? I was at a group therapy session," Genevieve admits freely and without a waver in her voice. Serena Lockhart had proven to be someone that was around at the right moment and so she told herself that she’d trust more. Actually trust people, not the shitty ones she had been giving out. “Talking about my feelings, because apparently keeping them in fucks with your brain and your insides and you get all crazy and end up in the mad house. Granted… we’re already in one.” Laughing at herself, she let out a breath of air. “Serena, I’ve been wearing that face — that look on your face for a long time now. I know when shit’s not actually a fucking headache. That’s shit is as much as a headache… like, as much as my vagina is a fucking penis. It’s not. Thank god, too. Multiple orgasms, hey, ho.” Wiggling her brows, she laughed.

2 weeks ago   5   Reblog




"You are not the heaviness
sitting inside of you.
You are not the battlefield
where the bodies fall,
and you are not the sound of cannons
breaking the sky open.
You are what happens after the war.

The surviving.

The healing.

The rebuilding."

—Y.Z, for the bad nights
2 weeks ago   1   Reblog
  #quote  #quotes  #me




Ah, awesome

greg-booker:

Try what? What’s the fucking point? [Greg scoffs loudly, keeping his not-so-happy look. The question was straightforward as his words. But fuck, he hates all the cordial, civil conversations. It’s better this way.] Do you want the nice answer or the straight answer? Because I can only do the latter. Derek was in charge of the former. [He says with a sneer-like smile. However, the truth is that Greg doesn’t hate Woodsen or anything. She just reminds him of Derek, and he hates that. She’s just annoying, but he has a merry band of annoyance around him— Morrison, Slezak when she’s bored and such.] Well, you asked for it. No, I don’t value you as a friend. No, I don’t necessarily want you here. I think it’s best if we stay the fuck away from each other. It’s fucking obvious that one of us will kill the another some day. [He says calmly, flatly. It’s just a fact, an observation he has made after their last talk. But, fuck, Derek would have fucking cut his throat and thrown him in the ditch if he continues treat her like this.] But, you’re that idiot’s friend. That’s good enough reason for me. I owe that fucker. So, yeah. If that’s not enough for you, then I suppose you can fuck off. If not… well, whatever.

image

"You’re a fucking asshole," Genevieve replies flatly, her eyes coming together. She wished she could just will Greg away, but she knew this was a conversation she had to had. Normally she would be level headed in these kinds of situations, apologize after throwing her fit and go on about talking about guys’ asses and how perfectly juicy they were. But when she looked at Greg… she expected Derek to come strolling on by to sling his arm around Greg. Stop being a fuckin’ jerk, asshole. Derek would say and he would laugh and the three of them would go for a beer or something. Maybe… the two of them just couldn’t be friends without Derek there. He was the glue that held them together. “You know what, fuck you. I value you as a friend, I look at you and I see someone I want to help and protect and you —.” Shaking her head, her hands rub at her temple as she turns takes a step towards Greg. “All Derek and I — All your fucking friends just want you to be fucking happy. You put on this fake wall of, ‘Oh I don’t give a flying fuck so fuck the fuck off’, but we’re not fucking stupid. Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass, you’d be a lot fucking happier!” Throwing her hands into the air, she huffs and closes her eyes, shaking her head. “Your brother was a good man, Greg. He put up with your shit and worried about you the most. Now — now who the fuck is gonna look after you? You obviously can’t do it yourself.”

2 weeks ago   24   Reblog




"No, that wasn’t it."

serenalockhart:

{She’d taken to drinking. Alcohol consumption had lulled her into a restless sleep, and now the afternoon had found her searching a different sort of drink. Standing in the coffee shop, Serena definitely isn’t the pinnacle of glamour. Hair tied into a simple knot atop her head, escaping strands here and there, she’d managed to pull on a sundress with a cardigan and slip on flats that she was pretty sure didn’t match before leaving her room in search of solitude. It was only after she’d made it out that she’d even realized her lack of eye makeup. But, that was the least of her worries. She’d managed to slip out of St. Mary’s without a peer chaperone, seeking solitude. Even if she didn’t want to think, she had to. So, Serena orders the strongest thing on the coffee menu and has turned to go when she spots a familiar face. Perhaps solitude can wait. Exhausted eyes land upon Genevieve, and Serena nods towards the window. The weather. Forever her go-to topic of conversation.} Sorry about the rain. Mind if I sit with you? {She tries to sound as casually conversational as possible, despite her appearance. She certainly wouldn’t be discussing it.}

image

The sound of the rain hitting against the window was enough to entrance her. She hadn’t even realized someone had came to sit next to her, until her brain registered that she knew the voice. Brows furrowed together and she glanced towards the redhead, a smile smile on her lips. “I love the rain, it’s my favorite fucking thing. The sound of it hitting the windows, the gutters, the roofs. It’s fucking… peaceful.” Eyes looked over Serena and she raised a brow - the girl was normally dressed to impress, but Genevieve knew what it was like to get up in the morning and feel like… well, like shit. “Seat next to me is always welcomed for you to take, Lockhart.” Taking a sip of her coffee, she pulled the sleeves of her sweater down and looked over at her with sincere eyes. “What’s hurting, m’dear?”

2 weeks ago   5   Reblog




Ah, awesome

greg-booker:

Oh, great. It’s you. [Greg could have faked a bright tone, but he just can’t be fucked. He doesn’t look at her way. He isn’t particularly interested in dealing with Genevieve Woodsen in his sober state.] What do you want, Woodsen? Wanna punch me in the face? Kick my ass? I don’t blame you, but I’m not gonna take back what I’ve said.

image

"It’s been a fucking month, Booker." Frowning, she rolls her eyes and blows out a breath of air. "You can’t fucking try?" Shaking her head, she glares at him and crosses her arm at her chest. All this fucking time she had thought that two of them were friends, that despite the fact that they had become friends was because she was friends with Derek first… she thought they were friends. Genevieve valued Greg as her friend and he didn’t give two shits about her. “I’m in…” she hesitates. Alcoholics Anonymous, Community Therapy. "… Do you value me as a friend, Greg? Do you want me here? Because if you’re going to act like I was only ever friends with you because of Derek, then I don’t fucking need that around." Let go of the poison in your life. The people who only hurt instead of help, the said. You can’t heal if you have an open wound.

2 weeks ago   24   Reblog




"No, that wasn’t it."

"Marble Mocha Macchiato is what I wanted not, not this… mocha mocha crappy business. Too much sugar, not enough coffee. Fix it." Handing the coffee back to the lady, she let out a breath of air and rubbed her eyes. From Genevieve’s and Matthew’s last conversation, she had ended up reaching out into the city for those who were going through depression. It was kind of weird and strange, but it gave her an outlet of her emotions where she knew she wasn’t bringing anyone down. And her parents didn’t have to know what was going on, because surely her parents would manipulate her emotions into her not feeling anymore. She needed to get through this herself. "Thanks," she muttered when the lady finally got her order right. Moving to the window where a little couch was that allowed two to sit, she sat there to the side and pulled her knees to her chest. Sipping on her coffee, she proceeded to look out the window. “I still remember you,” she whispered, watching as water droplets started to collect on the window from the light drizzle of rain. “I miss you, too, Jerry.”

2 weeks ago   5   Reblog




phoenixhearst:

"It’s…." 2:37pm. “Early…” Phoenix insists groggily, already exhausted from Gen’s theatrics without it even beginning. Just as he’s about to make a break for the bathroom, she quickly kicks his shin, causing him to yelp. “What the fuck?!” Cringing as she grabs a fistful of his head, Phoenix attempts to pry her hands off. “Is there a fucking universe where you aren’t riding me 24/7 about good fucking behavior?” Phoenix hisses angrily, temper flared as he steps away from her. “It was one stupid kiss…” Three, he corrects internally.

image

"It’s past fucking lunch time you little twat.” Rolling her eyes, she huffs as he hisses at her. Letting go of his hair by tossing him to side with slight force, she crosses her arms at her chest. “Is there a fucking universe where you’re a good little boy and not some little bitch?” She retorts, setting as he steps away from her. “Oh, where have I heard that before? ‘It was one stupid puff!’ Or, ‘It was one drink, don’t worry about it!’ Blah, blah, blah. Phoenix fucking Hearst, king of ‘JUST ONCE’, when it really isn’t. Don’t you know that I’ve endured years of your shit to know that ‘one’ usually means ‘five’ or more?” Letting out a long breath from her lips, she clenches her jaw and gives Phoenix a serious look of worry. “I’m… How? You know what fucking happens and just —. I don’t want you near her, Nix. I don’t.”

2 weeks ago   3   Reblog




Flashback | Genevieve & Bernard

bernard-laswell:

Bernard gave her a small, awkward smile instead of answer, as he tried to calm himself down. To be fair, occasions of him coming to somewhere luxury like here happened pretty much rarely, almost never. Ever since his ability kicked in— which was early in his childhood, before he could even remember clearly. And for some reason, he didn’t remember much about the time before he had met Mrs. Schultz— his family shunned any place fancy. He felt out of place. “Yeah, you do. As long as you want me here.” That much was the absolute truth. “You’re not obnoxious, Gen. You’re just very excitable… Well, I don’t like cars. They’re too loud and I get sick when I’m in it. So I didn’t have other choice… But, y’know, it’s nothing.” He grinned genuinely, showing his teeth widely. Compare to what Gen had done for him… he could do anything for her. “Wait, six?? For a soda? That’s crazy. Just crazy. I’ll never get riches and their money… It’s all very weird.” He blanked out for a moment with his nose wrinkled a little, thinking about money— Money is so weird. ‘Hey, here’s a paper and it has the same value as a can of soda. Let’s exchange it!’— “Well, I don’t have any suit so that explains why… But thanks! I’m happy that you like it. I do miss my t-shirts though. This suit doesn’t smell like me.” Bernard blinked once as confusion rose up. It led him to frown in a puzzled expression. “…cucumber? What does she do with it? Salad? I’ve heard people slice it and put them on their face… I don’t know why but… Am I missing a joke again?” He was going to sip on his water when she mentions sex— he almost spat it in front of her face. “W-what?” His face went past the level of red and reached the degree of bright pink. “That— I don’t think I… I’m not su— you really don’t want to boi—” Bernie stopped when his friend broke into a laughter. He hung his head down, feeling extremely embarrassed. “That wasn’t nice…” He grumbled with a small pout, wiping the water off his chin. He felt a little bit relieved when they brought the food— Eating, that he can do— but that only lasted for a second. He started to cough severely when Gen went ahead and said something very inappropriate. “That’s not— it’s-, s-she’s joking.” He had a bad feeling that this evening would involve moments like this a lot. “That’s… that’s something. I’m just gonna… LET’S TALK ABOUT WEATHER! And yes, food. I love food.” Laughing nervously and a bit forcefully, he took two cheese sticks and almost swallowed them. “T-the birds said it might rain tonight on the way here.”

image

"I always want you here." A light smile graced her lips - which was very unlike the crass Genevieve Woodsen that everybody knew. This girl stood on tables and proclaimed her love loudly towards the people around them - hell, half the time Bernard and her were yelling at random strangers about how great each other were. She was loud, obnoxious, but she always meant well. She always looked out for people, always thought of it her duty to protect those around her. Bernard had definitely fallen into the category of "her people": the people she would do anything for, regardless of what they asked. She trusted them wholeheartedly, sometimes foolishly, but lately she had lived her life on a whim. "Well, I appreciate it, Bernie. I appreciate you coming out here." Nodding her head, she reaches over the table and touches his cheek lightly - that was a thing with Genevieve. Always wanting to convey her emotions through her touches - she sometimes thought it was because of her power and how she’d always hover over people, but never touches. Healing but not feeling. "Well, Mama and Papa Woodsen are paying for this lovely dinner, so you can order whatever you’d like. Six fried tofu? Go for it! Want seven salads? Hell yeah! Drink all the fuckin’ soda you want! This is a fucking anarchy! Go crazy!" Laughing, she finishes off the rest of her wine and beckons the waitress over. "Another bottle of wine — most expensive one you got. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m a Woodsen, I could buy out your life — don’t tempt me, too. Bitch.” Rolling her eyes, she settled her gaze towards Bernard and gave him a small smile. Genevieve was already tipsy and she was acting out for being stood up. For one — she was fucking stood up! Nobody did that to her, but someone obviously did and she would end up going on a hunt for them an demand why the fuck they didn’t show up. Later, later. Revenge will be fine and dandy. “Well, you look good in anything. But I understand you wanting cl… wait, Bernie, when was the last time you washed your clothes?” Quirking a brow, she let out a light chuckle and then felt bad for her mentions of sex. She’d always been unfiltered and raw and that was what she loved about herself, but it often confused Bernard and the other innocent souls of St. Mary’s. When the waiter leaves and it’s just the two of them, Bernard tries to steer the conversation to something else. “I’m sorry, too much Gen, right?” Laughing loudly, she took a cheese stick and started to eat it. “But when you get flustered, it’s really cute Bernie. And I know I should feel bad, but…” Chuckling, she shook her head. “Sorry, sorry. Okay! Let’s… talk about the weather! And food! I know you love food! I love eating food, too.” Nodding her head, she cracks her neck a bit and starts to unpin her hair from the tight ponytail. “The rain is my favorite.” Nodding her head, she smiles as the wine comes and fills her wine glass to nearly the brim of it. “Sometimes we’d sneak off for the day and I’d go missing. We’d stay some decent hotel and just curl up by the window and watch the rain fall. Nice, simpler times. They were.” Her gaze moved to the table as she thought of Jeremiah and their happiness, their little infinite that would still live on in her memory and heart. But she’d be robbed of the other infinities that they could have had together; robbed of memories. “Bernie, what do you think happens when someone dies?”

2 weeks ago   7   Reblog




2 weeks ago   80   Reblog
  #me  #photo  #photos




Ah, awesome

greg-booker:

That’s just my luck. [Greg grumbles under the breath. His lighter doesn’t work. He throws it away.] Why am I not a pyrokinesis, ugh.

image

"Hey, Asshole." Crossing her arms, Genevieve presses her lips together and looks over Greg. If there was one thing that people would remember from the 2012 Genevieve Woodsen - which still resounded with her - was that the girl could be a bitch if she wanted to. It was like it was ingrained into her DNA with being a Woodsen. And with the way Greg was the last time? How she was now in a better place? Now… she was just pissed. 

2 weeks ago   24   Reblog




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