#but walter is a dorky ass name

[descendantofthesparrow]

Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P1

first vampire/the invitation fic les gooooooo NOTE HEAVY SPOILERS, DOES FOLLOW THE MOVIE/PLOT CLOSLY...that is until it dont, i’m a sucker for happy endings~ 

(i specialize in Thomas Doherty characters x readers so if i wrote something wrong no i didn't) 

=

They said I was found by the side of a road, there were tracks all around; it had recently snowed. In the darkness and cold with the wind in the trees A girl with no name, and no memories but these

-

It was dark, cold, and wet-that’s all you could remember-the flashes of fire and lightning, the echo of screams, a hand in yours, pulling you to what seemed to be safety, and then…gone. Someone screaming a name that-seemed to be yours, their voice sobbing and desperate as they drifted away until you couldn’t hear them anymore.

“(y/n)-NO-(y/n)!!!”

You don’t know how you got separated from them, they seemed to care a lot about you, just from how they screamed for you. But you could recall your foot hitting something-metal and slippery, and you fell; hitting your head. You had a nasty scar from it to this day.

You woke up to what felt like-hundreds of years later but couldn't have been more than a few weeks realistically, you couldn’t remember anything, only your name, your age, and the feeling that you were missing something…or someone-by your side.

All you had was a ruby crystal, silver stems and thorns holding it tight to the leather cord around your neck with two small letters engraved into the gem. ‘H.D’. Along the silver vines was another engraving, in the same style as the first except it seemed to simply be an extension of the last letter.

Deville.

It was so simple; you had the initials and the last name. All you had to do was match the name to the person, but-even after years of searching, be it through books or the internet; nothing popped up. A clue that led to nothing, it left you to wonder; who was this H. Deville?

And could you find them? Could you discover your lost past?

It seemed like a long shot, since this-Deville didn’t seem to exist, not a single search engine had any answers, not even a family  tree to maybe help you find them.

Maybe this-Deville had disappeared in the same incident that had caused you to lose your memories 10 years ago, you sighed remembering the day you woke up; all alone on a roadside, freezing cold with snow covering you and the forest surrounding you.

You had wandered into the town nearby, a kind family taking you in and warming you up, giving you new clothes, and doing their best to help you. But with no memories, and no account of-who you were other than your possible name-they couldn’t. Somehow you ended up in new York, homeless and doing your best to survive.

That is-until you met Evie Jackson, your now roommate and one of your only friends, whom you had met during a catering job and hit it off pretty quickly; when she heard about how you were homeless and just looking for a place to crash until you could save up for your own place, she offered her apartment.

You had told her many times that you were grateful for her offer but-you couldn’t just-take half of her space, especially as someone she just met. But she insisted and now here you were, four years later, still living together.

With your combined paychecks, you had been able to move out of her studio apartment to a two-bedroom only a year after you met/started living together, and you were both just scraping by, doing your best to survive in a world that didn't favor you. Evie was a wonderful girl, smart and kind, with a wonderful sense of humor, and wicked ceramic skills. Your favorite thing from her was a beautifully made vase you always made sure to keep stocked with flowers, she had made it for your first birthday in the apartment. You did have to admit, you did cry.

You were just grateful that you had someone, two people in fact, that you cared about so deeply and they felt the same; you wouldn’t trade Evie or Grace for all the riches in the world. They made you feel just-so much less alone than you really were, a girl with no memories of her past other than voices and snow.

You were ripped out of your thoughts and memories as Evie walked into the apartment, sighing heavily as she kicked off her heels and gently threw her backpack onto the couch; before plopping next to you with a raspberry “long day?” you asked, knowing Evie had to work at this boring catering gig about a 10-year anniversary or whatever. She just groaned, leaning into you and hugging your arm.

You laughed gently, squishing your cheek into her head “Long day. I made pasta if you want it? Ravioli~” Evie perked up, opening one eye to get a good look at you “it’s that uh-lobster and ricotta cheese one I bought a few days ago, made some garlic rolls to go with it too”

Evie hummed, realizing the smell of garlic and lobster still waved about in the small space that was known as the living room and kitchen. “yes please” Evie muttered, huffing as you slipped out of her hold to go make her a bowl “Can you get me a Fanta too? Please?”

“Yep yep!” you called back, taking the leftover pasta out and heating it up in the microwave, sticking your hands in your hoodie pockets as Evie went to her room to change, sick of the full black outfit she had been wearing for hours on end. You took out Evie’s preferred pasta sauce and an orange Fanta, getting one for yourself as well; eyeing up the chocolate cake that was inside the fridge before closing it and finishing up Evie’s bowl, setting it on the counter with a re-toasted garlic roll on a paper towel.

“Orders up!” you yelled down the hall, laughing as Evie made a sarcastic laugh, coming back out of her room in a comfortable-looking set of overalls and her hair up. “Thank you (y/n), I really appreciate it, today was just-guh” Evie muttered, giving you a quick hug before collecting her food and drink, plopping back down on the couch to eat.

She un-paused the movie on your laptop and you sat down next to her, the two of you enjoying the near silence as you watched the cheesy vampire “horror” movie you had pulled up. By the end of it the two of you were cheesing it, sharing the small bottles of wine Evie had brought back in the little goodie bag grace had scored.

“I mean, who would be scared of that?” Evie snorted, gesturing to the goofy-looking vampire with obviously fake teeth and horribly done hairline. “man’s looks like Dracula on meth” At this you cracked up, sliding down the couch as Evie smirked in victory, finishing off her bottle before standing up to go wash her bowl “Thanks for dinner (y/n), really” you smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up, sitting up to change the movie as Evie washed up. “I’m gonna do some ‘pottery’” Evie mocked, using air quotes as you rolled your eyes “I said I was sorry, Ceramics~” you teased, having referred to her art as pottery only once and she still made fun of you about it to this day. Evie stuck her tongue out and sat down in her chair, taking a chunk of clay and slapping it down on her table.

You glanced at her as a few minutes later she made a frustrated noise and smushed down the bowl she had been making, pulling it up with the cord and throwing the clay with its ruined brethren. You looked away as she sighed, wiping her forehead. “Please tell me there's more mini-wine bottles in that bag” Evie muttered, standing up and walking over to you, holding her hand out as you grabbed the back and checked.

“Two more” you muttered, handing her the bag and looking away as she muttered thanks and took out one of the two wine bottles “You okay?” Evie shrugged, fiddling with her necklace like she always did when she was feeling alone. “You still have clay on your hands.”

Evie’s eyes widened and she yelped, looking down at her now clay-covered necklace and slamming the wine bottle onto the table, rushing to go wash her hands and necklace. You took a paper towel and cleaned the bottle before setting it back down on the table, resting your feet on the table as Evie walked back in, rubbing her face with her now clean hands.

“You wanna talk about anything?” you asked as she grabbed the wine bottle and the bag, smiling softly as she shook her head “Okay, I'm one doorway away if you need anything, okay?” Evie smiled at you, nodding as she turned to retire to her room “Goodnight Eve”

“Night Anya” you rolled her eyes at her nickname for you, but if fit; you matched the fictionalized Anastasia all too well. You just hoped your story would follow her’s in turn. Soon enough you were going to bed, passing by Evie’s room to hear her mother's voice faintly through the door. You frowned, knowing Evie was feeling just as lost as you did, she had no biological family left, simply floating by in life; just as you were.

You fiddled with the crystal hanging from your neck, thumbing the engraving on the vine “H. Deville” you whispered, sitting on your bed and leaning against the wall. “Just who are you?...who am I for that matter” you muttered to yourself, letting your hands fall and your head flop into your pillow, curling your hands to your chest to hold the necklace close.

“I’m never going to find out who I am” you whispered, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you fell into a dream-filled sleep of grand parties and a soothing voice in your ear, strong hands holding you close.

-

A week later, you, Grace, and Evie were in the living room, Evie scrolling on her laptop to find a movie while Grace helped herself to some white wine. “Did you ever go out on a date with that bartender guy?” Grace asked, Evie made a gagging noise, sticking her tongue out as you giggled, curling the leather cord of your necklace between your fingers.

“I’m ignoring his texts” Evie muttered, looking back at her laptop screen as she switched over to her email, unable to find anything interesting to watch. Even your cheesy horror movies looked boring. Grace frowned, turning to Evie with a shocked look “why? I thought you said you liked him! Didn’t she (y/n)?”

You nodded, giving Evie a teasing smile as she glared at you for helping Grace mess with her “Yep, she said, and I quote ‘oh he’s cute’~ think I can get his number?’ with a capital c” you said almost proudly, and Evie chuckled a pillow at you, rolling her eyes as you giggled “For someone who doesn’t remember a lick of her past, she’s got our words down pact” Grace laughed, sitting next to Evie as she rolled her eyes and you blew a raspberry at Grace.

“I’m just-not-I can't handle the new York dating scene right now” Evie muttered, sipping at her coffee when her email pinged, Grace agreed with her opinion on the whole dating thing. “it is exhausting” Grace hummed, tilting her head as Evie blinked in surprise at what she found in her email. “What?”

“Yeah, what? You gasped like when you got 500 bucks off that lottery ticket” you asked, repeating Grace’s question as you moved from the love seat to sit on Evie’s other side. “I got a cousin!” Evie proclaimed, leaning back to show you and Grace the screen.

Well, there it was, right on the screen; Evie had a 2nd cousin, Oliver Alexander. “Impossible he’s white as hell” you muttered, laughing as Evie pushed at your shoulder. “What she said, that is the whitest man I’ve ever seen, and he’s British” Grace said with a small laugh, watching as Evie read what Oliver had messaged her.

“He wants to meet up” Evie muttered, licking her lips in thought as Grace choked on her wine “A stranger? On the internet?” Grace said with raised brows, as if the idea was stupid “mm-mm, you’re not doing that” Evie tried to justify it, stuttering on her words as you leaned closer to the laptop, clicking on the ‘family tree’ to see how she was related to this, Oliver.

“He’s family” Grace just gave you a look that said ‘and?’ which made you snort a bit, slapping your hand over your mouth and nose to let Evie go on without making her feel like she was being made fun of; because you both knew how important finding her family was to her.

There was a reason you got along so well, especially after her mom passed away. Evie continued, glancing back at her laptop “And-I don’t have any” Grace hummed, pursing her lips as she looked at Evie, mostly teasing but she didn’t want Evie to walk into something that was only going to get her hurt.

“Oh, so you wanna be catfished? Oh, interesting” Evie let out a small scoff at Grace's playful yet serious words, shrugging a bit as she gestured to Oliver “I mean-look, he’s wearing an ascot. What could he possibly want with my broke ass?”

“Your kidneys?” Grace joked, still kinda serious as you let yourself laugh, Evie rolled her eyes at Grace’s wild guess “That’s probably exactly what this site is, tinder for unassuming organ donors” Evie laughed, shaking her head as she clicked ‘read more’ on Oliver.

“Well, he’s British, they’re all absurdly polite” Evie muttered, pursing her lips as Grace snorted, standing up to move to the love seat. “Yeah cause they’re wracked with colonial guilt! Doesn’t mean you need to mistake that for good manners.” Evie nodded, turning to you; playing with your necklace as you stared off at nothing.

“What do you think I should do?” Evie asked quietly, and Grace leaned forward; because you would know what Evie was going through the best, both of you without families and feeling lost without a map. You hummed, glancing between Oliver and your necklace, before you smiled.

“I think you should meet him, if just to meet him and know you have family. You don’t need to get all-buddy buddy, but-you know” you shrugged, leaning into Evie and resting your cheek on her shoulder “just make sure you meet in a very public place and update us about everything. British or not dude could be dangerous” Evie snorted, patting your head as Grace pointed at you.

“Exactly, if you do go through with this, keep us updated, he’ll make a group chat even.” Evie rolled her eyes again “you keep doin’ that you’re eyes gonna get stuck” Evie stuck her tongue out at grace as she stood to make sure dinner was ready while you leaned forward to check the family tree again, seeing they were related through Evie’s great grandmother Emmaline.

“maybe I should do this, see if I have any family” you muttered and Evie shrugged, playing with her necklace as she glanced between the family tree and Oliver's message.

Finally, she took the laptop from you and clicked the ‘respond to message’ bubble, taking a deep breath before she started to type.

-end of part 1-

 yeeeeeeeeeeee im hyped for this, I've been thinking about it since i first saw the invitation~ just-ah~ inspired by Anastasia, Beauty and the beast, nnnnnnnnn...idk my stupid brain XD

idk who wants to read this soooo no taglist yet? this isnt my Harry Hook stuff so no perm taglist...if anyone wants to be tagged just lemme know i guess?...okay byyyyyyyyyeeee

[wishingfornever]

11/8//17 – No Contact:  Sleep and Education

I did my sets early today.  Not right when I woke up but before noon. I haven’t begun Rosetta Stone yet, let alone my book.  I’ll probably end up doing Rosetta Stone first.  I’ve come up with a theory that sleep is necessary for learning.  I’ve got nothing to base this off of except for the fact that the elderly are always sleeping and they learn slowly.  Thus, the more sleep you need the harder you’ll learn.

Might be something there.  Not sure.

Anyways, today is going to be the first time I’m minimizing talking to Ariel in the last few days.  Been talking to another girl, too.  Just know that me talking to the other girl isn’t me pledging my love and devoting myself to someone else.  I’m also not trying to get in this other person’s pants.  I wrote a poem, posted it to facebook. Super short.  Shared it with Ariel and other girl.  I might give her a name here if we chat long enough. I also shared it with Walter.  I think I’ve mentioned him before.  I could look back and read through everything but fuck that.  I haven’t done it with my book and that’s bound to make at least a bit of cash.  Why the hell would I do it with a journal that (of course) may never be posted?

Anyways… I’m considering doing my sets when I wake up and before I go to bed.  Really, I want to do this not just for myself but for Airsoft. Dumb reason, but I’d like to not go out of breath when I’m being fired at.  Of course, that’s not because I’m overweight… or maybe it is, idk.  Really, that’s a lot of adrenaline.  Like… it’s as if my body says, “Oh, fuck!  We’re under attack! Stockpile oxygen, quickly!” and my lungs are like, “Jawohl!” and I just start panting.

Of course, I regret not grabbing my fatigues before I came to Texas.  Or my gaiters.  Not necessarily because I want to be prepared for airsoft but just so I could have an outfit I could work with. Fashionista.

That’s not including the fact that I want to do some dorky shit, too.  Like… I want to be able to look passable as a part of my NationState.  I intend to make a legitimate Wikipedia article with all these little facts and pictures.  Problem is, that’s A LOT of work.  A lot of money into something that literally won’t matter, which is to say any.

Who knows?  Maybe it’ll be important later.

Walter was mentioned before.  I just checked.  I used the search function to see if I mentioned the name of my NationState.  Seems I didn’t. Rather than scroll down, I decided to look for Walter’s name. Turns out, I’ve mentioned him a bit.  Good to know, I’ll try to remember this time.

Anyways, my NationState has a lot of technology, a lot of defense, a lot of pacifism, a lot of food, a lot of welfare, a lot of healthcare, and a lot of Communism.  Basically, I’ll have to get pictures of high tech things and maybe even MAKE my own Space Suit and get someone to pass off as a citizen and be like “omg ferst astronot” and make it dramatic or something.  Defense is somewhat easy because I can just get little models and paint them up how I want it, take pictures, and edit backgrounds.  Pacifism and food can be overlooked, healthcare will require doctors, and Communism will involve an office building and also a dictator outfit for myself.  Oh, and my NS drives on the left side of the road like Japan or Ireland.  So… that’s a thing. The dictator outfit will mostly comprise of dumb old Soviet reproduction stuff.  At least… the hat will.  A white peaked cap.  I wrote it all down a while ago.  The top will be blue and the pants will be red.  I will also need white gaiters, white gloves, and other stuff.  If I lose enough weight, I’ll have to get a fat suit because my dictator is overweight.  At least a belly. It’ll need a bunch of dumb medals and ribbons, too.  I won’t use any real medals, just fake ones.  But it can’t look too fake is the thing.  There are a lot of things I can do, so I won’t concern myself with that yet.

Finally, I’ll need a flag.  A decent sized flag.  I believe my current setup is 3 by 5?  The British flag is 1 by 2, which is kind of long.  The US flag is like 27 by 53 or some dumb shit.  Like, super awkward length dimensions.  I went with five because it’s a lucky number. Easy to do math with.  If the flag is ten feet long then it’ll be six feet tall.  Of course, my nation uses metric… so, crap. I think I mentioned that.  If I leave the United States, I’m going to need to start thinking in metric.  It’s a hard thing to do.  I regret being in the US to learn all the dumb shit that no one else uses.  Seriously, get with the program.  It’ll help with LITERALLY everything. I think the reason the US hasn’t invested into metric is because the infrastructure would just be COLOSSAL to revamp.  Football fields would have to be remade to be 300 meters, roads would have to be measured by the kilometer, and so many signs… Of course, I’m positive the US can afford it. We’re just so god damned cheap.  -,-

Trying to watch this old show from nearly a decade ago.  I was in high school.  It’s a miniseries based on the Iraq War.  The second one. It keeps pausing.  Pain in the ass.  -,- Ariel is watching Arrow?  Maybe the Flash?  She likes comic book heroes. Kind of nerdy, now that I think about it.  She told me today she wanted to catch up and sort of recharge.  She’d be too polite to tell me if I were the problem.  She even told me it’d be fine if I messaged her when I asked if she wanted to leave her be.  However, I’ll give her some space.  Message her again sparingly. I told her I can be overwhelming at times.  So, I’ll be underwhelming for a minute or two and then overwhelm and continue again.  By the books.  ;) Ugh… still pausing.  Whatever. I wish there were a service that’d let you just watch what you want without being dicks about it.  “Oh, you have to pay extra to watch this old ass movie.”  Fuck you, Netflix.  Honestly, I don’t even care about commercials.  How great would it be to have a TV where you can just select a show to binge watch and not have to wait for? Sure, there can still be commercials in between.  But just make what you want to watch available for watching.  Again, really don’t care if there are commercials.

[wishingfornever]

10/11/17 – No Contact:  Meta Entry

I had a series of dreams.  The last dream, you were here and we just laid together.  I kissed the back of your neck and you were happy. Then I woke up and find I had been cuddling with Max the WHOLE TIME!!!  GASP!!!

Kidding, but that was the last dream. You had a black tank top, black underwear, and that red beanie.  I remember… a lot from that dream. I’m waiting to propose to you to carry on and continue your life.  As I said, your mom told me to look after you and I still intend to.  Of course, you don’t deserve it.  Your behavior was just… incredibly bad.  And then you justified the stupidest things.  You don’t deserve forgiveness.  You don’t deserve a second chance.

You’re lucky I’m not you.

Maybe I’m being harsh.  Maybe I’m telling myself this so I can wait the full two months to message you again.  Or maybe I’m totally justified.  You really fucked up.  You’ll see that eventually but I can’t make you see it.  Thus, this is a lesson you’ll have to learn yourself.

I hope you don’t view my offer as a safety net.  Like, seriously, if I’m trying to be nice then don’t overthink it.  I suspect you’ll avoid my offer, though.  Maybe that’s why.  Not enough pressure. What a bunch of bullshit.

My one concern is that I stop caring about you before I offer you a place.  Sort of like how you stopped caring.  See?  Like that.  You REALLY don’t deserve a second chance.  If I were a wiser man, I’d have left you for dead.  You’d be stuck with Dennis or move back. Worse yet, you’d move from man to man trying to find a place for yourself, constantly getting high and NEVER getting your GED.  Your life will stagnate.  I guarantee it will with Dennis or any other prick on the internet who says he “Totally cares, for sure.” Your two best options will be with me or with your mom.  Because unlike those other internet tools, I won’t let you get high.  I’m sick of it.  Pot is fucking stupid and you’re stupid for liking pot.

You’re getting your fucking GED.  If you’re here, I will MAKE you get it.  That is not an option. That said… you don’t need to choose me.  You can choose your parents.  I’m sure they’d be THRILLED to have you back.  Well, your mom at least. Thing is, it’s your mom.  She has two sides.  Not saying she’s a bad person, but she’s a hard person.  I know because she’s somewhat like my dad, just my dad is less hippie-ish.

Whatever… Anyways, Max isn’t eating his food.  That’s a problem.  He’s… been grumpy.  I told you I applied for a job at Starbucks.  Here’s the thing.  I wanted to go to Starbucks and apply in person.  But… I can’t.  Because Max has been very temperamental.  Like, so much. So, I’m sticking by with him.  We could use someone who will stay here with him.  Like you.  That’d be super helpful.

Anyways, I just checked with my application in Starbucks.  Turns out to… have not saved.  So, I re did it.  Not that hard.  But as of today? I officially applied for a job.  After this week, I’ll start applying at other places.  Hopefully in person.

Holy crap.  I know how to propose.  Custom banner.  In NationStates. It’ll say, “Esther’s Nation, will you marry me?” and have one of the letters replaced with a hammer and sickle.  Or put the hammer and sickle in a heart.  Gasp.  :o

Cringe now.  I know.  We won’t get together because of reasons.  Probably because you don’t want to see me again.  That’s why I wrote it here.  Because you’re not going to read it.  It’s funny though. Clever.  I mean, not romantic.  But the region will think it’s cute.  :D

Whatever.  If we do get together again, I’ll have to try to delete this.  Or maybe I won’t, idk.  Kind of ruins the authenticity of the journal to go back and delete things… so… whatever.

I need Max.  This cute Asian gal ran up and said, “Awwwww!  What’s his name!”  I was awkward at the time because I didn’t expect it. I said “Max.  Be careful, he’s grumpy.”  But she was super cheerful.  Was getting out of her car at the time.

I might be a bit socially awkward.  I have to be in control of the situation to prevent it and I have to be super confident in myself.  I put on some pounds and I did almost nothing to my hair.  I mean… I brushed it.  Kinda looks cute.  But could be better.  Breath smells of onions.  Intending to shower when I got back.  Just… not a good situation for me.  She didn’t get close enough for that.  Was cute though.

Shane isn’t doing well.  He said he coughed up blood.  Concerning.  Told him to see a doctor.  I hope he’s fine.

Meanwhile, Walter (who ADORES NationStates) wants to do a NationState scenario with me.  Like a space race.  I think it’d be super cool.  We’re doing some planning.  Won’t need that much time.  I won’t have to much time to begin with.  I’ll be working at Starbucks soon.  And, of course, my book.  Which I haven’t touched for a while.  I’ll make time for it this week.  I’m waking up earlier, if you can believe it.

I’ve been sleeping in, unfortunately.  But I’m getting over it.  I didn’t do my sets yesterday.  I didn’t run, either.  Didn’t today.  Been focusing on Max.  He just wants to walk, so we’re just walking.  Super inactive.  Eh.  :/

I want to message you.  I always do when I write in the journal.  I think because I want responses for somethings.  Or at least input. Idk.  It’ll fade.  Eventually, I’ll stop writing in this journal. That’ll either be a good thing or a bad thing.  Either it’s a bad thing because that means I stopped caring and have totally given up on you or that we’re back together and there is no need for the journal.  I guess having a journal at all is pretty desperate.  I mean… why?  This journal is more about us than it is about me.  If I keep it… idk.  The posts won’t be as long.  I don’t know what I’d put in there… or why.

Why did I begin this one? It’s helped me deal with the end of our relationship.  It also documents what’s been happening for us.  But… eh.  It’s the truth.  Maybe that’s a bad thing.  The truth often isn’t welcome. Maybe I’ll upload it to a blog next year.  For giggles.  I’ll send you a link to it then.  On 9/3/18.  Wouldn’t that be fun, eh? Idk.  Just an idea.  This would make it in there too. It’ll be weird to see me bitching about the format.  And converting it would be a pain in my ass.  Oh, I’ll make it a Tumblr thing. Set it to public.  Not to slut shame you or to shit on Dennis or anything.  I just think it’d be good to document.  Might be a fun read, idk.  ;) Anyways, Adela just came back.  I spoke with her.  Couldn’t get the scale to work.  Earlier today I was in such a good mood, I could have sworn I lost weight.  I little bit later, I felt super self-conscious and I felt like I gained weight. I need a scale to measure everything.  That way, I won’t get complacent and I won’t have to guess.  I could lose 40 pounds and I wouldn’t notice.  Though, I think I’d notice gaining 40 pounds at this point.  I’ll be honest.  Thing is, I didn’t realize I lost weight when I lost 10 pounds.  So… weird.  I guess it’s easier to see my failures than successes.  Hrm…

Whatever.

I’m thinking about when I publicize this all.  You probably won’t like it.  You’ll probably ask me to take down or not do it at all.  Or if you read this, you might ask me to do it.  I guess it depends on how I end this journal.  We’ll see.  It’d only be surprising to people who we don’t know if this is posted.  You’ll know how it ends and anyone who knows us will know how it’ll end.  And people will be surprised to know I came up with these bullshit titles before I even thought about posting any of this.

No names will be changed.  So, if you don’t like it, maybe you can sue.  So even if you hate me, you can still have a happy ending.  ;) This would be A LOT of honesty.  To just put out there.  It’ll be nice to have total strangers think I’m crazy too.  Ah, well.  Shane might have died.  He stopped responding to me.  So has Walter, actually.

Btw, I told Randy everything.  I think I mentioned that.  Might not have. Regardless, he responded.  Was very nice to me.  Kind of sympathetic. It was nice.  I had to reiterate that I had nothing against you or Dennis.  Though, I guess you’d disagree after reading all of this.

If not against Dennis, then against you.  Saying you don’t deserve a second chance.  I stand by my words; you really don’t.  And Dennis is still a piece of shit.  Thing is, I don’t have to like someone to not have a grudge.  I don’t have a grudge against Dennis.  No vendetta needing fulfilling.  And, obviously, no vendetta against you.  Rather, you piss me off and Dennis is dead to me.  He’s a slimebag piece of shit that literally EVERYONE can see but you.  You think he’s awesome, but that’s because he’s a terrible person.  You have only his word to take on it. He doesn’t talk to Shane or Jeremiah anymore for a reason.  He brought this on himself.  Everyone who used to associate with him stopped talking to him.  Walter joked about how he didn’t recognize Dennis’s name.

Gotta give him credit, though.  At least he’s dedicated to fucking up and cutting contact with everyone he’s ever called friend.  If I had known that’s all that it takes to win your heart, I’m sure I wouldn’t be writing this journal.  Sorry, but Jer and I have a relationship that you wouldn’t understand.  In High School, it was compared to Turk and JD from Scrubs by our friends.  The ultimate bromance.  Apparently the actors who play them are best friends in real life.  That’s interesting.  I wonder which one of us was Turk and which one was JD.  I haven’t seen much of the show to make a comparison.

Speaking of Jer, he REALLY wants me to download League of Legends.  I… probably won’t.  Because of reasons.  Mostly that I won’t have time for video games between a job, my book, and learning Spanish.  I haven’t begun yet but… soon.  Measuring life by the week. ;)

Anyways, I’m tired.  Also hungry.  Going to get food and watch dumb videos.  I mean, I could work on my book, but nah. I’m a terrible person with a shitty work ethic.  Don’t tell Starbucks, though.  ;)

Before I go and begin the next entry… it would appear I’m rather macabre.  I was watching JonTron’s old review for a dorky game, I was thinking his bird was going to die soon.  I don’t know why I would think that.  Birds have a lengthy life, for one… and for two, WHO THE FUCK THINKS ABOUT WHEN SOMEONE LOSES THEIR ANIMALS?!?  Ugh… I know it’ll suck to lose a pet.  Thing is, I ask this to myself a lot with people’s pets.

Jack died when I came back from Texas the first time.  I had to bury him.  It sucked.  Then there were other pets I had to bury, but he was the most recent.  It was… depressing.  He went into an old dog house outside and just slept in there the night he died.  He was old. Oof…  I’m done talking about Jack.  Later.  x.x