#tell you what’s a childhood classic. ain’t no pleasing you by whoever he was that was a fun divorce foreshadowing

[autism-disco]

sometimes i wonder why i am the way i am and then i remember that the penultimate track on the summer 2014 car cd was ben folds five boxing. and yeah no that adds up

[stardewnoodles]

And I shall lie here, betwixed by love and resolve, unsure which I am loyal to, or if either are even real. Teach me again how to be real.

I had so much fun with this one. Up now on AO3! Or read it below:

I

“You think Pico did it? He- no, you don’t talk! Shut the fuck up! You don’t scare me. Yous don’t know anything. By the time your “calvary” swooped in, he was finished cappin’ off Cass’s ass. Look at the tapes. Shit, look at the look on Pico’s face. He. Did. Not. Do. It. Cassandra did. She and her goons. She came in, spouted anarchist bullshit, and… why would anyone do that? And he’s the reason you even have a witness, period. Rest of us are dead, missin’, or hidin’ in the lockers you’re checkin’ in the school. Of course it sounds like I’m makin’ it up: an alien disguised as a goth shoots up a school, but as I been tellin’ you, I dunno what else to tell you, other than that. The truth. Go look in the gym. Body’s still warm. Pico saved my life and he saved Nene’s and whoever he could. That bastard did more than your entire pig force could in the same fuckin’ situation. You will give him the time alone he deserves. You will not walk to your ‘media buds’ and tell this city that my best friend is a murderer. He ain’t the hero you want, but he is one.”

“Nice little speech, brat. Look, I want to believe you as much as the last guy, but there’s one issue with your story. I don’t blame you for distrusting us-“

“Cut the shit. Don’t give me your fake ass pity.”

“Okay. Okay. The bullets we’re finding in most of the… school children… the fingerprints match the people you say caused this.”

“Oh, so for once you’re doing your job?”

“BUT there’s a small issue with your story. The alien bit makes no sense.”

“Check again, dumbass! It’s there! It’s-“


“There is no body, Darnell. Just a pool of blood dragged out to the playground and a leg. Oh please, don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, no one could’ve survived that much blood loss.”

“…What?”

II

It’s a windy summer evening, making it impossible for the lighter to hold a flame for longer than a second. Pico keeps trying to make it last anyway, even as the wind seeps through the fissures in his cupped hand and blows out the light. He nibbles on the cigarette in his mouth, frustration building. The wind practically spits at the bags under his eyes; the sting of rejection by nature hurts as much as people’s do. Too tired, yet not tired enough, to give up. Pico lifts his eyes off the floor. The city doesn’t look like such a dump at night from a high rise balcony. God willing, it’s the perfect place to get shot at while witnessing the light show. The wind would be too harsh to the trajectory of the bullet, they’d need to account for that as he stands there, waiting with open arms. Nothing happens. Pico spits out the cigarette and watches it fall into the dark abyss below. A bad fog is rolling in, so death can’t see him now. His sweater threatens to rip off his body the way the wind is eager to please him, caressing his waist. With Darnell on his way—he texts this, and it could mean anywhere from five minutes to an hour, because that fucker loves to walk home—Pico falls into the restless delusion that this is a message from Darnell. Fate is bullshit. It serves as someone else’s means to an end that a servant of fate blindly follows. On his worst days, he can’t help but see its appeal. Pico blows a kiss to the wind and begs for it to fly off to Darnell. Only fate can be the reason they share this luxurious room. Darnell is a pyro fanatic who happens to be his best friend since childhood. It’s the classic tale of young love. These are one of the days where Pico looks to the city, outstretches his hand, and ponders.

“Darnie,” Pico whispers. “You wouldn’t love me if we weren’t in this together, would you? A freak accident made you step away from college, that’s all, before we met up again. How could you.” The wind howls and laughs at the man deserving of such. “I wonder a lot, uh, you know, if I stole your future from you. You could’ve been the next Oppy, heh. No. No, what am I saying.” Pico rubs his temples, then his eyes, groaning. If his brain is an office, then all the employees have left and the lights are turning off, one by one. “We both know why you’re not with those freaks. Still…” Life could be kinder to his one and only than this. At the cost of stealing the life of another man, Pico lives in a luxury he dreamt of as a kid. The kitchen has a marble-slated counter with a built-in microwave on the side. The refrigerator is behind an ivory wood door and a bronze handle. The bed is a king sized for two, draped with a blue velvet blanket and a thick comforter to make it easier to fall into the clutches of sleep. Each room is a different color. In the main room, the walls are a dark green. In the bedroom, it’s wallpaper of a boat sailing across the ocean, unsure of its destination, but traveling forth all the same. The brown couch is a perfect excuse for a second bed with how soft its fabric and pillows are. That’s not even the best part. The 4K TV hangs on a brick wall that has a gas fireplace built underneath it. The wooden floor is a standard light brown oak series of planks, but the rug in front of the couch is majestic: a handmade rug based off of Pico’s favorite show of all time, Invader Zim. A priceless investment.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glances at the many weapons strung along the ground. Two out of the four are in dire need of repair This apartment room is one of many safe houses scattered across Newgrounds, paid for in full by the blood and tears of his kills. Vigilante is too nice of a word. A vigilante is supposed to be a hero in some way, shape, or form. Pico is no symbol of hope; he’s the reason windows have locks and figures in power, lurking in the shadows, have twenty men instead of five by their side. There is no side, usually. It’s the money that counts. He’s a bounty hunter, plain and simple, who rarely refuses an offer. A person who blends in with the crowd seamlessly, able to hook Newgrounds like a fish to bait. Despite this, he is simultaneously the very person they never want to meet in their entire life. It turns his gut into a Fruit Roll-up, but he must admit (oh yes, Pico licks his lips to it), the initial shock, the realization, it never gets old. He has to keep it fresh, or else it’s too boring. Raw human emotion is on the same level of eating strawberries the first day he buys them. They are succulent, ripe, and oh so juicy in a way that sticks with him until the next batch. It’s so fresh it gives his mouth an orgasm as it runs down the corner of his lips. Pico taps a finger against the railing. The taste is slightly different, batch after batch. Similarly, no one person evokes the same response to a topic. How delicious. Sophomore high school literature said that, at least. Pico steps back inside and closes the sliding door. The roar of the wind is forgotten by the soothing crackle of false embers.

A whisper comes from the gas. Pico gets close to the fire, cocking his head at the heat brushing against his face. The allure is still there in the form of the frustrated dance of the flames, anger begging to be unleashed. A faint outcry can be heard the longer Pico stares at the fireplace. Something calling to him with such bitterness, the flames may as well be spitting in his face. There are enough people to count on one hand who he’s heard with such hatred. He cautiously reaches out to it. The fire suddenly bursts with new life and swipes Pico’s right hand away. A hundred microscopic bullets tear through the inside of his flesh. His eyes widen in shock when he looks at his hand. The heat, which was meant to be cool at all times, was hot enough to add another battle scar to the collection in a mere second. Pico licks his dry lips. Hot as hellfire.

“Shit!” An issue with the gas? A warning? What else could it be? Pico shuts it off quickly and kisses the new burn mark on his hand. It’s right next to the other hand he sustained over two years ago when Cassandra… “Everything fucking breaks that I touch!” Pico shouts at himself, pissed off, embarrassed. Static sets in. It’s so loud in his head, blaring like the theater, but he can’t leave, he’s glued to the floor.

A rap at the door echoes inside the room. Pico draws the uzi strapped to his waist, ignoring the sharp pain running up his right hand, then up his arm. The safety flicks off easily. The fire dies down, its noise in his head replaced by the roaring static and the drumming beat of his heart. The average draw time of a lousy shooter is one and a half seconds. A better one, maybe a second. The best, six tenths of a second. Taking into account the fact that this is a safe house and he knows nobody else here, he has to assume they’re good at their craft. He either shoots the moment their gun crosses the safety of the hallway or dies. No, he has no idea who it is, he can’t shoot immediately. A shadow blocks light from crawling under the door. Keys jangle as the intruder figures out which one to use. Pico squints. Any second now, and then the noise will stop. Any second now, and he’ll have to worry about buying 5 gallons of bleach. Any second now—

“God damn it, which one of these damn things is it?!” An irritated voice hisses from the other side of the door, just as the lock turns and the door swings open. The static dissipates. Pico lowers his uzi, clutching at his head. Stupid fucking faggot , he grits his teeth, cursing at himself. Look at you . “Peeks? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or a demon, or some crazy type shit. You good?” Darnell’s wearing his white sweater and jeans today instead of a flaunting hoodie to blend in more with the crowd. He’s been trying new styles lately, this time with a touch of black lipstick he smacks his lips on. His hair has been cut down from a tall flattop to box braids reaching his neck. He got the haircut last week, and it still leaves Pico in awe. He’s gorgeous, divine, raw. “You’re wearing my hoodie again.” Pico clicks the safety on and straps the uzi back to his waist. He takes off his gun belt and tosses it onto the couch.

“Is there a problem with it?” Pico sighs deeply. He tugs at Darnell’s purple and yellow hoodie. It smells like him. It’s soft like him. “Thought you were someone else. You didn’t knock five times, just twice.”

“Oh, I was supposed to- oh shit, I was. I’m sorry man, I totally forgot. '' In his hands, Darnell has two black plastic bags that he grips tightly. They’re lightly covered in rain drops, a sign of the coming storm looming over Newgrounds. Pico looks out the window. Bleak clouds steal the sunlight and use it for their own machinations, absorbing each other like an amoeba. As if on queue, thunder rumbles in the distance. Darnell drops the bags and kneels down to inspect Pico’s hand. Darnell’s face distorts, as if he cannot believe what he’s seeing. He blinks a few times, making sure it isn’t a hallucination engraved on Pico’s hand. Darnell inhales and exhales sharply. “Fail at cookin’ again?” He says with a weak smile.

“No, no the uh… the fireplace.” Pico raises a brow at Darnell, but Darnell doesn’t leave him time to counter with his own question.

“That shouldn’t cause a burn. It ain’t real one in the first place. The gas is only hot enough to keep the cold out of this place. Yeah, that’s hot, but not hot enough to do that.”

“I know, but it did. It lunged at me like it had a bone to pick with me. Really fucking weird. It felt like being bitten. Reminded me of…” A lump gets stuck in Pico’s throat. The word cannot properly form and be uttered, even after all this time. What a coward he was. “You know…”

“She’s, uh,” Darnell pauses, biting his lower lip. He clears his throat. “She’s dead, dude, and last I checked the only person who could maybe revive the dead is busy rearrangin’ your ex’s guts and on our side. I’m sure it’s just a fault with the gas line. I’ll call about it tomorrow.” Darnell squeezes Pico’s hand affectionately before letting go. “Weird burn tat, though.” Part of the training Pico’s father made him endure was the reading of emotions through tonal shifts and a person’s eyes. Slight twitches and awkward shuffles reveal truths that were meant to stay buried. Pico can dig them up, and Darnell, here in the room with him, looks at his hand with fear.

“Huh?” Pico hasn’t been paying attention. Earlier it was too red to make out, but now that it’s settled, he can’t rub out of his eyes what he sees. It’s real. A fiery, distorted, inverted cross. Pico shudders. “Darnie! You don’t find that crazy?! Not at all?! Are you nuts?!” Pico whispers, venom in his tone, afraid of speaking out loud in case the tiny ignition flame that burns day in and day out is listening. Darnell jumps. He rubs his lips with a finger; he does it whenever he’s lost in deep thought, pondering the unknown.

“I’m out there, small time inventor with some fireworks on the side, not a D&D Necromancer. Ain’t nobody but the Dearest fam is, and they’re literal demons. Peeks.” Darnell urges his lover to think about anything else in the known universe. Pico chuckles at Darnell. Small time inventor is one way to describe a pyromaniac. He knows no harm can come to him when said pyromaniac is in the room with him, but he can’t rip his gaze away from the imprint on his hand. Maybe… maybe… maybe? Pico shakes his head. “Well,” Darnell claps his hands together. It brings Pico back to reality. “I did buy some new gloves for your motorcycle ‘cause you whined about it every day to me for the last two weeks. You wanna try them on?” Darnell eases out of the topic while rubbing Pico’s back and sits down with him. He presses the tip of his fingers against the aching muscles in his back. Pico forces down the rising whines of affection.

“Yeah. Yeah.” Pico nods to make his decision clear. Darnell takes the fingerless gloves out of the first bag. They’re purple and the same striking shade as Darnell’s hoodie. It’s a thick material with velcro straps. He puts them on with the help of Darnell, who slowly slides them onto his boyfriend’s hands. As Pico tightens the strap, Darnell rubs a thumb against Pico’s palm. The ginger’s cheeks paint themselves pink.

“Shit’s fire with the hoodie.” Darnell kisses Pico’s glove, looking into Pico’s eyes as if he is royalty. A chill spreads through his veins the moment after Darnell made contact with the glove, taming the wildfire in his hand. The heat travels elsewhere. Pico’s face turns red as a pepper. “I been doin’ the wrong thing, not lettin’ you wear my favorite hoodie more often. You sho seem to love it.”

“Shut up.” Pico says with a wide smile. He balls his hands into a fist. The pain is gone. “Thanks. Really, thanks.” He debates making out with Darnell, exploring the feel of the gloves against Darnell’s hairy chest. He decides against it; now isn’t the time, as much as his body screams at the slightest signs of affection. “What else you get?” Pico turns his attention back to the windows. Thunder booms outside the apartment building. Lightning flickers in the distance—nature’s alarm has been set off. Pico counts the seconds between each strike. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Another clap of thunder. One, two, three, four, five. Thunder rumbles the building and lightning touches down like an SOS, a call to get inside and stay inside. He turns back to Darnell, who’s holding two matching motorcycle helmets. Streaks of black lightning decorate the top, with an explosion of different shades of purple, like fireworks molding into each other, covering the rest. The visor, with its sleek black shade, blocks out UV rays from the sun to make driving easier. Pico notices how easy it is to see the inside of the helmet despite this. Another thing he notices: they are the perfect size for Pico and Darnell, respectively. Finally, the cushioned interior makes it wear for long periods of time without causing the annoying throbbing Pico is used to. It’s meant for Pico, no one else. It’s perfect. The craftsmanship could’ve only been done by one person in the whole world. “Darnie, you made these?” Pico asks, despite knowing the answer. Darnell gives a devilish grin. Pico wipes the grin off his face with a kiss to the lips, leaning over to roughly press against his. Darnell gingerly sets down his helmet before wrapping Pico in a bear hug. Darnell smells of ash and weed; it’s pungent, leaving the ginger dazed. He allows his body to sag into his lover’s arms, who tugs at his hoodie to brush a finger against Pico’s back. Kisses meet the freckles on Pico’s cheeks to form a constellation out of black lipstick. The longer Darnell goes at it, the more it smears, the less Pico can hang onto reality. It’s messy, how they like it, with tongues clashing and lips dragging. Darnell presses back harder. Pico’s eyes roll back. He is afraid to lose his grip, fall endlessly into the abyss, but Darnell’s hand interlocks with his gloved one and keeps him afloat. Their passion drowns out the rolling thunder. Pico opens one eye to look at Darnell. His eyes are fluttering, with sparks exploding inside of them. He’s still grinning. He’s in love, somehow, and Pico wishes he knew why. Darnell runs a finger up Pico’s back, but Pico wants to shy away from Darnell. Stop, stop! His brain shuts off, hurls itself into the void. He wipes saliva off of his mouth.

“Peeks? You drawlin’ again? Did I do something wrong?” Pico stares at the floor to try and escape. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He opens it again, this time forcing out the question looming over him like his shadow.

“Why do you love me? What… What the hell is there to love? We’re five months into this and I still can’t… I don’t get it. Fuck, man.” Darnell furrows his brows. He thrusts Pico’s helmet into his chest. “The fu-“

“Get it on. We’re goin’ out.” Darnell ruffles Pico’s hair and stands up, grabbing his coat by the door. He’s quick to move, agitated, hastily foraging the drawer by the door for the motorcycle keys.

“Going out? That storm’s going to wreck through here in, like, ten minutes! It’s gonna be shit!”

“Better bring a raincoat then so ya don’t ruin my hoodie. Trust me.” Darnell is calm, assuring. Pico’s soul flutters, warming his body. Pico does. Pico does with his heart and every drop of blood pumping through it. The worries fade. His heart blossoms.

“Bet.” Where Darnell goes, Pico follows, and so he follows.

III

Nene was quick to flee the graduation party scene and find a wall to lean on and a cigarette to smoke down to a stub. No one had been to class since the massacre, but rules were rules, and a ceremony had to be held for the remaining graduating class. “To safeguard their future endeavors and commemorate their resilience,” the Dean of Students stated in an interview the next day. Pico never showed up. His diploma was mailed to the current house his father lived at, since his mother had passed a year prior. Darnell clutches his heart. He’s ashamed to admit he hoped for this outcome. Nene hears Darnell’s footsteps before he sees her. When he rounds the corner to greet her, her cigarette is ready to melt his eyeball.

“Fuckin’ A, woman!” Nene giggles and goes back to dragging on the cigarette. They stand in silence, watching crows circle the school’s leftover property, as if there’s still blood to be found.

“We’re not going to college.” Nene states it as a fact, not a question, and even though Darnell shrugs, he knows she’s right. “Not like we planned on it in the first place. We’re maniacs, the three of us, destined for greater things.”

“Does that destiny include this shit?” Nene looks away, twirling the cigarette, making the smoke dance for her amusement. The risk of burning herself is alluring.

“I’m just saying. I’ve managed to get to Pico over the phone. He’s thinking about continuing what his father thought about starting after his wartime. Sounds like a hell of a time. I may join in.” Darnell stares at her, dumbfounded. Nene flicks the cigarette into the sewage vent by her feet, blowing ash off her hand. “Bounty Hunting. Does he tell you nothing? You’re supposed to be his BFF: Bro’s Faggot Forever.” Darnell rolls his eyes. “You should laugh or I’ll burn off your hair.”

“Haha.” Darnell retorts in a deadpan voice. He rubs his arm nervously. Being a mercenary sounds exactly as Nene put it, a hell of a time. They’d be able to make a load of money off of it. Even if the massacre didn’t happen, all three are adept in methods of killing. Cutting loose after all of this sounds like the best thing to do. Darnell weighs his options. The real world is a boring repetition of waking up for a job you hate and a life you wish you never had. Most people, on average, only achieve happiness in their 40s, unless they have rich parents. Darnell shakes his head. He takes this, he can skip more than twenty wasted years of his life.

Pico will be kept in his sights.

“I ain’t feelin’ good about this.” Darnell lies. Nene punches him in the arm.

“Mhm, don’t be such a pussy. Hey, didn’t you want to talk to me about something?” She asks while playing with spit in her mouth. A shiver runs up Darnell’s spine. He slowly nods.

“They never found Cassandra’s body, only a body part .” Nene chokes on her spit, doubles over, lungs clawing at her trachea. “I can’t tell Pico this, but you-”

“That bitch! She could still be out there! We gotta get her! We got to grind that bitch to dust! Then burn the dust!”

“Sssshhhh!” Darnell covers Nene’s mouth. She glares at him and licks his hand. He recoils back, wiping the saliva off on his graduation gown. “Fuckin’ gross. There’s no way she’s alive. They say the blood left behind is enough to be fatal.”

“Cops will say anything, Darnell, you should know this.” Nene drops her head. “I get why you want to believe it. What a fucking joke. All the shit Pico did for nothing, then.” Darnell wraps an arm around Nene’s shoulder, pulling her close. She pleads to whatever higher power may exist that they aren’t plotting the worst joke of the 21st century. “If anything happens, he’ll shoot you in the face for not telling him before storming off after her.” Darnell frowns. He’s motionless, but not like a statue. Rather, he acts like pudding.

“If he finds out, I don’t think he’ll recover. Nene, we have to see how this plays out. We have to act clueless. I can’t lose him, too. I miss our third musketeer. I want him to live. I want him to smile again.”

IV

Pico’s beaming smile reveals his missing tooth. It brings life to Darnell, and Darnell has to wipe a tear from his eye after he takes his helmet off. No, it can’t be. Darnell never cries, everyone knows that. Pico parks the motorcycle under the giant tree overlooking Newgrounds. Pico doesn’t pester. Surely, he thinks, it’s one of the many raindrops coming down. They run for cover under a garden dome that is closer to the cliff’s edge. They hop over the CAUTION railing and dash into the old rusty dome. They’re careful not to trample over daisies surrounding the stairs. It was made out of metal and silver, a gift to the first mayor of Newgrounds when the town was founded over a century ago. It’s seen three reconstructions in one hundred years, stripping it of rust and remodeling it to the image the founders intended. Regardless, rust and age return without fail. Another remodeling will soon be planned to hide its age, but it will be unmasked again in the future, and the cycle will repeat itself. Their helmets are placed on the soaked metal bench. The design is so bright, he wonders if it can be seen from Newgrounds. Darnell sits down, catching his breath, shivering at the water sticking to his butt. Pico cups his hands and shouts. Raindrops drip from their clothing like a leaking faucet. The dome gives the impression of a circular waterfall coming down from heaven, minus a small clearing that gives the perfect view of Newgrounds thanks to a protruding metal arrow that points north.

“WOOOO!” It comes back from the city, the trees, the sky, the stars, here on the cliffside. Pico’s pale eyes glow yellow as he stares at Newgrounds from afar. From here, the city is a petite Christmas decoration. Its lights illuminate the darkness in his mind and form twisted shadows in places he’d never think to look. Pine trees swaying in the wind give barely any protection from the downpour, but the taste of their sap reaches the lover’s tongues. The damp ground exposes the earth’s scent to civilization once again. Mud, grass, flowers, pinecones, all work in tandem to bring Pico to a calm state of mind. The rain is too loud to tear his thoughts from Darnell. Darnell, the fire that ignites passion, the only flame he’d reach out and risk holding close. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here!” Pico shouts over the torrential rain.

“Now you have, bozo! Ain’t it cool?!”

“Fuck yes!” Pico twirls around, taking in the sights and smells. He trips on his own foot and falls into Darnell’s arms, who reacts quickly enough to stand up and catch him. The raindrops cannot hide his blush. He brushes the water off of Darnell’s face with his gloves. His cheeks, Pico notes, warm his hands underneath the fabric. The fire in his eyes keeps his body warm.

“You asked why I love ya.” Darnell snakes his arms around Pico’s chest. Pico can barely keep his breathing steady once Darnell locks his hands together, trapping Pico. Each word pouring out of Darnell’s mouth, down to the syllable, rubs on his lips like a kiss. The ruthless bounty hunter crumbles and burns when Darnell plants a kiss on his forehead, which he can feel even after his lips depart. Pico whines, submits himself. He dares not touch it, fearing the black lipstick would then run down his face and ruin such a gift. The rain patters above, muffled by Darnell’s words. “I be seein’ an answer written on your face. Should look in the mirror more and see the man I’m seein’.” Another kiss. The two lingering kisses massage his mind. Pico’s breathing becomes erratic. “You’ve never been, and never will be, Cass’ mutt. She’s not who you are. You’re the one who ran on hellfire and came back swingin’. You’ve grown so much. And her?” Darnell lets out a heavy sigh. He looks away from Pico momentarily, then focuses his gaze back on him to keep him entranced. Receiving any sort of acknowledgement hits Pico where it hurts–the heart. He fights back tears, lips quivering. “Got all the qualities I love, too. Total bitch who never stops for nobody. Tough. Strong. Cute.”

“My father would be disappointed.” Pico mumbles with bright red cheeks. Darnell shakes his head.

“Tsk, tsk. We don’t care what he thinks in this house. I had no idea where to go, or who to trust, and you took my hand anyway like we never stopped seein’ each other. Saved me about as many times as I saved you. Ain’t nobody able to keep up with me but you. That’s besides the point. Look, Pico, you could be none of these things, you could still be that damned nerdy runt with glasses and braces who decided to book it to college, and I’d still sneak into your dorm and count stars on your face.”

“Why?”

“When I say I love you, I mean I love you . Not the bullshit you think you need to be. You .” The knot keeping Pico calm, collected, unwavering, snaps. You–the sharpened word was strong enough to cut deep into his soul. His duel against his pent up emotions has at last ended. Pico lets go of Darnell, slumps down to the ground, fists clenched. He trembles, and it isn’t from the cold. It begins to rain inside the garden dome.

“Me.” Pico chokes on the word as tears fall. Darnell sits back down, this time on the metallic floor, with his legs outstretched. He pats his thigh and softly smiles at Pico, who understands immediately what is being offered, and crawls over like a sick dog and lays his head on Darnell’s lap. “Darnie…”

“It’s all good. No one’s gonna hear you here.” The haunting flames Darnell sought to push back are quenched. Pico twitches in his grasp. His assurance washes over Pico, who curls up and bawls like a child. Not a soul is able to hear his cries over the fury of the rain except his boyfriend.

[truglori]

Homebody (Ch.12)

Summary: Amiyah is the younger sister of local drug dealer (Durkio). Shy and reserved she keeps to herself and stays out the way. But lately she began to find interest in his right hand man/ best friend (Erik Stevens). Wanting to get him to notice her she discovers that he already had her wrapped around his finger without even trying! There was only a few problems that kept her away from her fantasies , her brother that controlled almost every single breath she took and would kill anyone who looked at her that way and lastly Eriks girlfriend, Alexis , who they called the queen of the hood according to her lavish lifestyle as well as being with the next newest top boy in the making. While Alexis was his girl to the streets all Amiyah wanted to do was be his Homebody...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick OC

Warning: Language, Smoking

1 1/2 months later

The music from Amiyah’s speaker played at a low level. She was currently in the process of setting up an organizer for her perfume collection. Going back in forth between the instructions on the manual and screwing in the tiny nails she was growing frustrated. It’s been almost and hour now and she was only able to put together two shelves. Throwing down the paper she stood up and slipped on her house shoes. Amiyah needed a break to keep herself from becoming irritated so she walked to the kitchen for a snack.

Keys unlocking the front door caught her attention. It was Durk walking in with another Louis Vuitton bag for the fourth time this week. Amiyah knitted her eyebrows together wondering what was up with all of the shopping he’s been doing. She watched him walk to his to put away his items before he walked back into the livingroom.

“What’s up sis? You didn’t have to work today?” Durk asked pulling out his weed tray and breaking down the bud.

Amiyah walked over to him and sat down. “Nope I was just getting ready to make me some food but I’m too tired to cook.” Taking a pillow she cradled it in her lap.

He snickered rolling up his blunt. “I’ll order something for you if you want?”

Nodding her head Amiyah grabbed the remote to the tv and turned it on. She flipped through the channels hoping to find something to ease her mind for the moment. Durk leaned back next to her sparking up the blunt. Amiyah watched him inhale and exhale the smoke through his nose. Reaching her hand out she made a gesture asking for a hit.

“You know damn well you don’t smoke.” He removed the blunt from his mouth but handed it to her anyway. Durk figured it would be funny to see her try to get high for the first time.

Amiyah grabbed it using her nail tips she took a pull and inhaled the smoke smoothly and blew it out. She did it a few times and then she passed it back.

Durk furrowed his brows looking surprise before sending her a blank stare. “Miyah who the hell taught you how to do that?” He asked gently snatching the blunt away from her.

She laughed and was about to say his name before she caught herself. Shrugging her shoulders her eyes fell to the floor. The grip on her pillow tightened against her chest. Her memory went back to the night she watched how Erik did his technique in the car and she copied him. The thought of him made her sad all over again. Amiyah would always do good until she did something that reminded her of him then she would get a strong feeling of emotions that washed over her.

It’s been over a month since she last seen him. Since the night she ended it with him to be exact. After that it was like he never existed. No more phone calls or text messages. He hasn’t even been by the apartment since then either. Before, if she saw her brother coming in she knew that Erik would be right there behind him with his beautiful smirk on his face that displayed his dimples. But there’s been nothing and it made her miserable inside.

Amiyah didn’t want to be the reason for him to not come over anymore. She was used to seeing his face almost every other day and to see that it changed because of her made her upset with herself. Not only that, because of his absence, Amiyah didn’t know if Erik and her brother were still good friends. Durk had mentioned his in a conversation a week after their last exchange and that was the last time. Amiyah was worried about him. She wanted to know how he was doing but mostly she wanted to have a second chance with him.

“Yo what you got a taste for?” Durk snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Uh it doesn’t matter. Whatever you order.” She sighed sitting the pillow next to her.

He nodded his head as he finished his blunt putting it in his ashtray. A text notification came to his phone. Amiyah heard him curse before messaging whoever it was back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just going back and forth with this promoter about letting me throw a bash at the club for the night. You know with Valentines Day coming up on Saturday.” Durk answered staying on his phone.

Amiyah knitted her brows. “Why you tryna throw a bash? Why not just get VIP and call it a night?” She asked confused leaning her head on her hand.

Durk smacked his lips. “Because I’m doing this for the whole hood. Plus it’s a celebration for something else that I’m not telling yo nosy ass about. But I’m have my niggas to the right and nothing but bad bitches to the left. It’s bout to be a movie.” He playfully plucked her nose before getting up going into the kitchen.

Amiyah followed after she heard who he planned to have there. Erik popped into her head. She wanted to know if he was going to be one of the members in the group. She had to know so she figured she could ask for an invite.

“Well can I go?” She sat on the counter next to him.

Durk chuckled. “Since when you go to parties?”

“Since now. So can I come?” Folding her arms she pressed for the second time.

“No. Amiyah I’m not allowing you around these people. You know I don’t like you being around that type of shit anyway.” He stated while eating grapes from out of the package.

Amiyah scoffed. “ ‘Allow’? Durk I thought we just made up about this. You promised you would stop treating me like a baby and let me live and learn responsibility. That was what you told me, remember?”

After her and Erik’s first argument she had him take her home. Later that night Durk came back to find her there. He was happy that she decided to come back and they talked out their problems. Amiyah told him how she felt about him treating her like a child and how he had to stop. Durk was hesitant but agreed in letting her make her own choices from now on to help her become responsible.

Placing the bag of fruit on the table Durk eyed his sister folding his arms as well. He shook his head as he gave in.

“Damn alright you can go but yo ass is standing beside me the whole night. I’m not playing with you Amiyah.”

Interrupting him Amiyah hopped off the counter jumping up and down clapping her hands. She skipped up to him and wrapped her arms around his body giving him a bear hug.

“Thank you big brother!” She grabbed his face bringing it down to kiss his cheek.

“Miyah stop acting like I keep yo ass chained up in this house all day ‘fore I change my mind. Extra ass.” He pushed her away.

“Okay I have to get an outfit, my nails done. Can I bring Kelly? Who’s all going to be there?” She rushed him with questions.

“I guess you can bring the one and only lil friend you got.” He laughed.

Amiyah pushed his shoulder. “Okay but who’s gonna be there?” She asked hoping to get the answer she was anticipating for.

He shrugged. “I don’t know shit Moe, Erik, Cane, and a few other people I rock with.”

Her heart stopped when she heard Erik’s name. But when she heard Cane’s she felt her stomach flutter with nerves. How the hell did her brother know Cane? It was too much for her to catch up with the fact that two of the guys in his circle had her caught up. If they were both planning on being at the bash then Amiyah would try her best to avoid being around them at the same time.

“Cool!” She gave a half smile.

Durk snapped his fingers. “Oh I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your birthday coming up in a few weeks. Got any plans?”

“No not really. Why?” She stepped closer trying to figure out what he had planned.

“If you down I was thinking outta the country and a place that has dazzling white sand and water so clear that you can see your toes in it. What you think about that?” He asked speaking in a narrator tone.

Amiyah covered her mouth. “Please tell me you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

Durk laughed at her reaction. “You tryna go to Turks and Caicos or what?”

Amiyah jumped on him as he caught her. Turks and Caicos was one of her top places she had on her traveling bucket list. She couldn’t believe that he was able to make this happen for her. She was truly greaful but curious.

“Wait I want to go but why you trying to bring me now? You coming up on here with shopping bags every other day and now you taking me on vacation. I mean I know you got money and everything but did you win the lottery or something?” She asked playfully unable to contain her smile.

He laughed. “You asking too many questions. Next week I’ll give you some money so you can start shopping for the trip. But right now I got to go check out the venue I’ll be back. Love you kid.” He tapped her head before leaving.

Amiyah smiled watching her brother disappear out the door.

__________________________________

“So you tryna tell me you never saw the movie Soul Food?” Harmony stopped in the middle of crocheting her blanket.

Erik chuckled shaking his head. “Nah I told you I wasn’t a big movie watcher growing up.”

“But Soul Food is a classic though. Like how you do as a black person go your whole life without watching it? Make it make sense Erik?” She giggled going back to her knitting.

“Damn you ain’t gotta come for my childhood like that though.” He sat up on her furniture.

“Oh that’s right I keep forgetting your younger than me so I understand.”

Erik rolled his eyes shaking his head. He was 25 and she was 26. Harmony only had him by one year and always had to bring it up almost every time they got together. But Erik knew it was nothing but jokes with her. They were at her duplex hanging out for the afternoon. Over the past couple of weeks Erik got acquainted with Harmony really well. Her and her brother took over the bar where she worked that her parents passed down to them. She lived right around the block from him. But also they had a lot in common. Both were private people, had similar taste in music, like the same foods, and the lastly great at being single.

Harmony surprised him the first time they had a real deep conversation. She let him know that she wasn’t too bothered with trying to get into a relationship. She said she always had problems in the past so she never did much to try to strive for a new one, but she did remain open minded in the same instance. To Erik she was cool about it and didn’t really bring it up unless he spoke on the subject. They were only friends but they did mess around two or three times, if you want to count a quickie in the bathroom of the bar that she worked at as once.

Their escapades started two weeks ago. Erik thought for sure that he was going to have to deal with her sudden clingy-ness but it didn’t turn out like that. He had to reach out to her afterwards and Harmony told him that she was okay with being friends and fucking at the same time. After that they became somewhat close friends.

Erik got a text from Durk asking to meet up with him about the Valentines Day bash he was throwing. Sending a text back that he was on the way he slipped his phone in his pocket and stood up from the couch.

“I would love to stay but I gotta meet up with someone.” He looked down at her.

Harmony stood up nodding her head. “I’ll walk you out.”

Walking to the door Erik turned around. “Listen my mans is throwing this party on Saturday. If you want to come you can if you free.” He sucked in his top lip.

Harmony smirked biting her bottom one. She stepped closer towards him with a hand on her hip. “You tryna introduce me to your boys already?”

He glanced back in her house before back at her. “I’m just inviting you out to have a good time but if you happened to meet them while doing so then shit yeah.”

Grabbing his shirt she pulled him down to her level and kissed him. Erik wrapped one of his free arms around her tiny waist and traveled down her back to her ass cheeks gripping her left one. He felt her moan into his mouth before she broke the kiss.

Wiping the gloss from his lips she pushed him away and smirked. “I’ll be there.” She stated eyeing him up and down and then closed her door on him.

It took Erik twenty minutes to make it to the auto garage. Getting out and locking his car he headed inside to see Durk, Moe, and Cane gathered around one of the vehicles parked inside. The moment Erik made eye contact with Cane he felt the anger within him ignite. Just being in his presence always made Erik put the blame on him for how things between him and Amiyah ended. When he found out that he took her on a date behind his back Erik was heated and wanted to fuck him up but had to hold off because he didn’t want Durk to know the reason behind it but when Amiyah told him that he kissed her Erik was livid. He couldn’t believe that the same kid who he thought he would like was the same one who turned out to be a snake.

Erik kept his distance from Cane since he put the two and two together and kept it that way. They never said a word to each other unless they had to work with Durk. Strictly for business and that’s all. But Erik was still on edge with Cane knowing about him and Amiyah even though they weren’t together anymore, he just didn’t like the fact that the little nigga had something on him.

Walking up to the trio Erik dapped Mor and Durk, purposefully leaving Cane out. Durk gave a look wondering what was the animosity that the two had against each other all of a sudden before shaking it off.

“What’s up E! Fuck you been at nigga?” Durk asked leaning on the hood of the truck.

“Chillin. So what’s going on with this party you throwing? What’s up with that?” Erik stood next to him between him and Moe.

Durk smirked and paused looking at them. “I just figured I could celebrate the fact that I’m fifteen million dollars richer than a bitch and now in business with Shawns old connect.”

“Damn nigga you finally made that shit happen. Now you could put me in charge of some of these corners, take some of the load of your hands.” Cane spoke with excitement as he dapped him up.

Durk laughed. “Nigga you gonna have to earn that shit. Ain’t nothing given over here.” He nudged him back.

Cane smacked his lips shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Aye congrats man.” Moe spoke up.

Durk saluted him before turning to Erik.

“Erik what you think about that? You know when we get our first few keys I’ma need some help. I want you to be my partner.”

“Nah. I’m not tryna get into this type of business man. I told you after this last job we just did three weeks ago was it for me. I’m done.” Erik spoke truthfully.

Durk shook his head. “Well you didn’t look done to me when we was getting that money.”

*Three Weeks Ago*

Moe sat behind the wheel of the all blacked out SUV. Erik rested in the passenger seat while Durk and Cane hid in the back. Parked at least 200 ft away from the small luxurious house with a fence surrounding the perimeter. Erik used his binoculars to find where his target and accomplice were. It was eight at night and Alexis sent Durk a text letting them know that the two of them would be leaving soon. She informed them about the weekend trip he was bringing her on and told them that it would be better for them to come and get the money after they were gone.

Erik heard an irritated sigh leave out of Canes mouth.

“When these muthafuckas gon leave? I’m tryna get these M’s and be out. We already looking suspicious being in this big ass car.” He sucked his teeth putting on his black gloves.

“Nigga would you shut the fuck up. Yo ass been talking for the past ten minutes.” Durk blew out smoke from his blunt.

“Look she said they was gonna be out any minute now so chill the fuck out!” Erik’s voice heightened without looking back.

Within the next fifteen minutes Alexis was walking out with Shawn. They put their luggage in the trunk before hopping inside the car. After a few minutes of observing them Erik watched as they pulled out the gated driveway and down the road. Durk waited until he got a text from Alexis letting him know that they were on the highway heading to the airport. Moe turned on the truck and pulled up right in front of the house to make it easier to getaway. Getting out Erik, Durk, and Cane put on their gloves and ski mask on their heads so that by the time they would walk inside the home they could pull them down to avoid any security cameras.

“Y’all niggas know the fucking drill. We get the money and we out this bitch. Cane grab the duffles.” Durk instructed as he put his glock on his waist.

Erik watched as Cane did was he was told. His expression was irritated by the fact that he had to take orders which Erik figured he wasn’t to doing. Cane had the attitude of trying to be a leader but he just didn’t know how to operate as one yet. Erik picked up his own duffle and walked to the driver side where Moe was seated.

“You remember the signal right? Hit the lock alarm on the truck in a pattern of three times if you feel like something’s wrong.”

“But Durk said not to interrupt unless I actually see someone coming.” Moe stated unsure.

Looking over towards Durk and Cane who were waiting Erik shook his head turning back to Moe. “Trust me man. If you feel like something is wrong give us a heads up. Better safe and out of jail than sorry. Got it?” Erik knitted his eyebrows letting him know that he was serious.

Moe nodded and rolled up his window. Erik then started to hike towards the gate. Entering the code that was given to him he put it in watching the wide gates open slowly. They headed towards the house. Checking around the perimeter of the area, they planned to avoid using the front door. So they asked Alexis to leave one of her side doors unlocked. Cane walked towards it first and wiggled the handle. When the door popped up with ease he looked back and smiled before sliding his mask over his face. Durk and Erik did the same following him inside.

The three pair of eyes wandered around in amaze as the toured throughout the luxurious mini mansion. Erik shook his head as he thought about how Alexis didn’t have a problem risking living like this just to satisfy her selfish needs. She had everything that she ever wanted. Money, cars, the latest fashion, and her hair and nails were always in tip top shape.

Not only that but this house that she could live in full time if she chose to. From the way she would tell them how Shawn was stuck on stupid over her let Erik know that the nigga loved her enough to put up with her and her how shit. There was no way that he was going around town not knowing what his own fiancée was doing. He had to know but just to stupid in love to do anything about it. Erik scoffed to himself never wanting to be that deep in love with someone.

“Aye y’all niggas come up here! I think I got something.” Cane shouted from the top of the banister on the second floor.

Jogging up the stairs, Erik behind Durk, went into the master bedroom. They looked around trying to see why he called them in there.

“Nigga what are we supposed to be looking at?” Durk asked through his mask.

“That’s what I thought when I came in here at first. Nothing looks out of the ordinary but check this out. This some rich shit here.” Going over to the walk in closet Cane pushed aside some of Shawns suits that was hanging up revealing a small red button. When he clicked it the wall slid to the side disappearing.

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me.” Erik whispered to himself.

It was a panic room. Inside the blue neon lit medium sized room was guns holstered against the wall. The ammo inside their cases sat to the side. Erik looked to the right to find that there was some of Shawn’s famous ice pieces laid out on a shelf. All of his most prized possessions was in this room and they had access to all of it. But Erik wasn’t here for that. They had a mission and that was to try and walk out with as much of that money as they can.

“Fuck y’all niggas doing standing around. Get to bagging this shit up.” Durk laughed unzipping his duffel bags.

The money was in a clear casing directly in the middle of the room. It was too much cash to try and fit it all in one duffel bag so they all got three each but it still didn’t look like it would work. Working as fast as they could they were starting to run out of room.

“Durk we don’t have enough bags for this shit.” Cane told him standing up.

Durk looked up at him while placing the stacks in his bags. “So then go run ya ass down to the truck dump it out and come back in here for the rest.” Erik could see that Cane looked confused through his mask. “Now!” Durk yelled.

After the repeated cycle of going back and forth it took them fifteen minutes to gather all of the money. Durk grabbed what he had left and went to the car while Erik and Cane got the rest. To Erik’s surprise everything was going smooth until he seen Cane reach for Shawns jewelry. He knew that it was a bad idea but decided not to say anything. That would be the consequences that Cane would have to deal with and not him.

The sound of the car alarm went off and they immediately ran out of the room and out the house. Throwing the bags in the back Erik hopped back into the car. Moe pulled off once they were safely in. Pulling off his mask he felt Durk slap his shoulder and laughing in celebration as if he just won the lottery.

“With all this money right here. Mufuckas gon be calling me the black Pablo Escobar because I’m bout to take over all of this shit.” Durk laughed smelling the cash.

Erik shook his head. He was glad that it was finally over but deep down inside him he had a terrible feeling that it was the worst decision he ever made.

*Flashback Over*

Erik folded his arms as he jogged his memory of the prior event.“I’ll have to think about it. This some serious shit you asking me Durk. Next level shit.”

Durk smacked his lips. “You always gotta think about some shit instead of doing it. But anyways, I’m doing a lil bash and I want y’all niggas to be there.”

Everyone shook their head agreeing.

“It’s gonna be some bad bitches in there right? I might have to throw on my best walking up in that bitch.” Cane joked around showing off his new Patek Philippe watch.

“I don’t know why you asking. They ain’t gon be worried about ya young broke ass with that pond shop watch you got on.” Durk clowned him rolling his eyes.

Erik smirked watching Cane dismiss him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be there and I’ma bring a plus one. That’s cool?” Erik asked dapping him up. He seen Cane looking confused at him out the corner of his eye.

“So you done found someone else to get ya dick wet? I thought you was gonna be stuck on that bitch Alexis for a minute.” Durk teased him smiling.

“Fuck you worried about my dick for? Gay ass!” Erik laughed pushing him. “Nah she just a friend. I met her at this bar she work at down from my place. She real cool.” He smiled thinking about Harmony.

“Well I’ll be the judge of that when I meet her. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

The two dapped each other up with a side hug and departed from one another.

__________________________

“You sure your brother ain’t gonna have a problem with you putting on that outfit for tonight.” Kelley question Amiyah as she pulled down the front of her dress.

It was finally Saturday night. The night of the Valentine’s Day bash and it was fifteen minutes after nine. They were running late. Durk had told her make it before that time so that she would be let inside without any complications but of course she didn’t listen. Amiyah was stuck choosing between dresses as the time went by. After finding out that Erik was going to be there she wanted to look her best. She hadn’t seen him in a month and she was going to try and impress him some how.

“Why? Do I look okay? Does it fit my body right?” She rambled the questions as she tried to take off the fifth dress for the night.

Kelley rolled her eyes getting. She was already dressed and ready to pick her up by eight thirty but when she walked in Amiyah’s room she was still in her bra and panties.

“You look fine. I think that this is the one you should actually wear. You look beautiful.” She rested her chin on her opened shoulder giving her a soft smile.

Amiyah glanced at her appearance in her body length mirror. She tugged at the pink tie-dye fashion nova Rustic Root Ruched Mini Dress. Her shoulders were out in the open and her cleavage on full display. She knew that there was no way she would be around her brother tonight. Knowing him he would try to send her back home to change and embarrass her in front of everyone. Amiyah blew out air of frustration while throwing her head back.

“Your not just saying that because I’m taking too long are you?” She squinted her eyes at Kelley.

Kelley giggled. “Yes I am but it do look good now let’s hurry up and go before we don’t get in at all.”

Finishing up her final touches Amiyah did a last sweep over her body before grabbing her coat and heading out with Kelley to her car. The club was a good twenty minutes away but with there barely being any cars out tonight they made it in fifteen. Pulling up to the location Kelley and Amiyah both whispered a “damn” at the scene in front of them.

“Your brother wasn’t lying when he said that he was gon have the whole hood pop out.” Kelley exclaimed as she fortunately found parking.

“I guess he wasn’t.” Amiyah whispered to herself. She was starting to feel self conscious about her choice of clothing all over again. The expression was written on her face.

“Listen let me tell you this. We are about to go up in here and have the best night of our lives. We gon dance, diss any niggas that try to step to us, drink, and get fucked up. Don’t worry about what other people think. They already have an idea of you in their head so why stress yourself trying to change it. Fuck what they think.” Kelley lectured while applying her lip gloss.

Amiyah giggled nodding her head. Her confidence level going up just a bit from the pep talk. She answered her back with a “thank you” as they got out the car. Walking hand and hand, they walked to the front of the line. The music blasting on the inside was clearly audible on the out. Sounds of people complaining could be heard when they reached the bouncer.

“I hate to be the one to tell you beautiful ladies but the end of the line is down there.” The tall and buff light skinned bouncer pointed in the direction.

“Oh see we’re with her brother, the one who’s supposed to be hosting the bash, Durk.” Kelley spoke for them.

He raised an eyebrow looking back and forth between them. “Y’all with Durk?”

They nodded in unison while smiling.

“Yeah well you and everyone else. Now get to the back of my line.” His face stern and unfazed.

“Wait Durk is my brother and he told me to be here early but I was running late. Can you just let us in and I’ll bring him back out here to confirm it.” Amiyah pleaded with her hands folded.

“Girl you not the first one that claimed to be some type of family member of his to get in free. Besides I ain’t never heard about Durk having no sister.” The bouncer eyed her up and down with disbelief.

Amiyah sighed. She didn’t even bother to try and call him because she knew that he wouldn’t be able to hear it over the loud music. She gave Kelley an apologetic look as they started to walked to the end but the sound of someone calling her name stopped her.

“Amiyah?”

Turning around she saw Cane walking up to the front. He was wearing a white Christian Dior newspaper denim jean jacket. Underneath was a plain black Dior shirt and black washed jeans to match. Inhaling a sharp breath, Amiyah forgot about him being one of those included.

“Hey Cane. What are you doing here?” She replied softly. She was embarrassed being seen walking to the back of the line.

“I’m here for the party. Why you not inside?” He asked with a smile.

“The bouncer won’t let us in. He thinks we’re just tryna cut the line.” She shrugged rolling her eyes at the security guy.

Cane laughed catching her action. “Do you not know who the host is to this shit? Your brother, that nigga should be escorting you in.”

Amiyah laughed shaking her head.

“Come on. I got y’all.”

Kelley smirked at her as they folded their arms together walking back to the front. They stood next to Cane watching him speak to the guy.

“Yo Diamond, they with me and this is Durk lil sis. Remember her face and think twice next time before you try and keep her from getting in. Got it?” Cane tapped his shoulder creating space for them to walk pass.

“I got it.” The bouncer mumbled letting them by.

When they made it in it was packed to the max in the venue. There was beautiful women and fine men all through the place. Pop Smokes- Hello bombed through the speakers. Bottle girls danced while holding up Don Julio 1942’s and sparklers in the air. Amiyah was impressed with the turn out. She reached for Kelley as they both of their lips curled up with excitement.

“We bout to be lit as fuck.” Kelley yelled over the music.

Feeling a tap on her shoulder she turned to face Cane. His eyes traveling over her body made her stomach fill up with nerves. “Yeah?”

“VIP is up there. I think your brother would want you to be there.” Cane licked his lips. His eyes couldn’t stop going below her face.

Amiyah nodded. “Okay.” She grabbed Kelley’s hand as he led the way up the stairs.

Spotting her brother, Durk had different girls surrounding him. One was twerking on him while the other two recorded and took shots from the tequila bottles. Amiyah rolled her eyes at the sight. Walking over to him she patted his shoulder trying to get his attention.

“Can I help you?” He snapped his head at her.

Amiyah chuckled noticing he was tipsy but also that he didn’t even recognize her. “Really Derrick you don’t even know your own sister?” She folded her arms.

Pushing the girl who was dancing on him out the way he faced her looking over her. Durks face contorted up confused at her outfit.

“Who are you? Because I know Amiyah ass ain’t come out the house like that-“

“Don’t start Durk you promise.” She cut him off reminding him.

He took off his jacket and pushed it towards her. “Here at least put this on.”

Amiyah laughed pushing it away. “I left mine in the car for a reason. Leave me alone.” She started to walk away but felt him grab her wrist.

“Unh uh I didn’t forget. I told you you was going to stay beside me all night, so have fun.” He went back to letting the girls dance on him.

Kelley looked at him with disgust before turning to her friend. “I’m about to get us a drink from the bar. I’ll be back...maybe.” She stated the last part lowly but Amiyah heard it. She watched her leave the VIP section.

Opening up one of the 1942’s that was on the table Amiyah figured she could get her drink on right here. Tilting her head back she allowed the liquor to go down her throat. She made a sour face shaking her head from the taste. She repeated it giving herself four shots. Amiyah wasn’t much of a drinker so it didn’t take much to get her tipsy. Standing on the couch next to her brother she rocked side to side rapping the lyrics along to the song.

“Amiyah sit ya light weight ass down.” Durk yelled drunkenly towards her.

She waved him off and continued to do her thing. From the way she was standing she had a view of whoever was going to come in the section. She thought it was the liquor playing tricks with her until she saw him take more steps coming up. He was dressed in a two tone knitted Givenchy sweater with black jeans. The blinging from his watch and gold chains around his neck caught her eyes. When he smiled he revealed the gold canines in his mouth. His beard looking freshly moisturized and his waves on swim. His eyes were low which told her that he probably smoke a couple of blunts before coming inside. He looked so good.

Amiyah watched as he greeted everyone in the section with salutes and daps before walking up to her brother who was seated next to her.

“Nigga why the fuck you got to come up here and show me out for my shit?” Durk yelled playfully standing up and boxing him.

Amiyah watched as they interacted with each other. At least her question from earlier was answered. They look like they were still best friends.

“Come on man, this light work.” His voice coming out as smooth as butter.

“Yeah whatever nigga.” Durk turned towards her making her status known. “Miyah you not gon say what’s up to Erik?”

When she heard his name she got butterflies in her stomach. It was like it was her first time meeting him all over again. After a month of not seeing him nothing had changed. Her feelings for him never fading but only enhancing the minute she saw him.

“Hey Erik.” She smiled softly putting the bottle that was in her hand down and stepped off the seat.

Erik nodded his head towards her. “What’s good!” He stated nonchalantly. Amiyah couldn’t deny that she was hurt from the tone in his voice. He didn’t even smile at her, only just a nod. But yet they kept eye contact with each other.

“So where she at? I’m trying to meet this “friend”.” Durk asked doing the quotation marks with his fingers.

Amiyah stood to the side confused hearing her brother over the loud music. She didn’t realize that there was a small petite woman standing somewhat behind Erik until her brother mentioned the word ‘she’. She watched as Erik held her hand pulling her in front of him. His arms wrapped around her waist pulling her into him as he rocked them side to side lightly.

“This is my friend Harmony. Harmony this is my best friend and brother Durk.” Erik smiled introducing them. Amiyah felt a sting when he didn’t even bother to introduce her.

She laughed holding her hand out to shake his. “Hi it’s nice to finally meet you. I heard a lot about you Durk.”

Amiyah observed Harmony. She was beautiful. Nice brown skin complexion, pretty hair that looked natural like it was hers, her outfit hugged her coke bottle shape. She had the perfect breast to hips and ass ratio. Her waist barely existing. Amiyah took note of everything. Everything that she dreamed to be but wasn’t. Sadness clouded over her face as she watched them embrace each other.

“Well I hope he told you only good things. But fuck all that you are beautiful ma. I don’t know how you ended up with this ugly ass nigga.” Durk joked around.

Erik gave him a straight face before laughing. “Fuck outta here. So what’s up where the drinks at? You know I need my shit.”

Durk nodded his head going to the table and grabbed his personal bottle of Hennessy and handing it to him. “Drink up!”

Amiyah watched him crack open his bottle and drunk it down like it was water. The little action reminding her of the time when she was at his condo and how he sipped on the bitter drink before showing her the crazy things he could do with his tongue. Amiyah bit her inner cheek grabbing her own bottle and throwing it back two more times.

“Damn girl you can drink.” She heard a light voice laugh. Turning her head while wiping her mouth she saw that it was Harmony.

Amiyah smiled shyly. “I’m just tryna turn up while I can.” Her words a little slurred.

“I’m Harmony. I came with Erik.” Harmony held her hand out again.

Amiyah glanced at it quickly before shaking it. “Amiyah.”

“That’s a pretty name. Are you Durks girl?” She asked genuinely.

Amiyah scrunched her face up doing a fake puke. “Uh no that’s my brother. I came here with him and my friend who’s somewhere around here.”

Harmony laughed holding her fist up to her mouth. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I just saw you standing up here next to him that’s all. Erik didn’t tell me he had a sister.”

“It’s okay.” Amiyah turned her direction towards Erik who was sipping on his bottle while listening to whatever Durk was telling him in his ear. Once again she was hurt when Harmony told her that she didn’t know about her.

For the rest of the night she remained in same spot. Babysitting the area. Kelley came back a few times trying to get her to sneak away but she didn’t want to. Her mood was ruined every time she would look in their direction to find Harmony grinding on Erik and him standing there catching what she was throwing. So she drunk her bottle and danced next to her brother who would wrap his arm over her shoulder as they rapped to whatever song was playing.

In the mist of the party Amiyah saw Erik whisper something to Harmony before getting up to leave the section. She figured she could use this chance to find him and talk to him. To see how he was doing. To get him to look at her the way he used to. Anything to be near him.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Amiyah shouted to her brother who only nodded his head drinking out of her bottle.

Walking out the section she bumped and squeeze passed the bodies. She didn’t have a clue where he went. She thought she could catch up with him but with a crowd like the one that was in there tonight it was hopeless. Amiyah gave up trying to search for his frame over the party goers. She strolled to the back hall that held the bathrooms. Going inside the music level dimmed down making it easy to hear if someone was to have a conversation back here.

Dragging her fingers across the wall, her head stayed down not paying attention to what was in front of her causing her to bump into someone.

“Damn my bad.” His deep voice spoke lowly.

Looking up, it was Erik. His eyes were low and going over her body as he stroked his beard.

“It’s o-okay.” Her words becoming a stutter.

Erik nodded his head. She looked tipsy to him or maybe even drunk. He never seen her in this state so it was hard for him to decipher. But Erik knew that he couldn’t leave her alone like this. He wanted to make sure that she was okay.

“You good? You look a lil fucked up.” He spoke bluntly.

“I’m fine. I didn’t have that much.” Amiyah replied. She was tipsy but still was aware of what she was doing.

“I could wait until your finished in the bathroom. We could walk back together.” Erik shoved his hands in his pockets.

Amiyah leaned on the wall with her hands behind her back. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like the sight of us coming back at the same time.”

He smirked as his jaw clenched. “You worried about her when all I’m trying to do is make sure you make it back safe. I don’t want none of these weird ass niggas trying shit. But you thinking about Harmony.” He shook his head as he leaned against the other wall directly in front of her.

“I’m just saying she might get the wrong idea-“

“She’s not my girl.” Erik spoke up cutting her sentence.

Amiyah rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You told me that the last time.” She mumbled knowing he could hear.

Erik’s faces scrunched up. “What’s it to you? Why does it matter if she’s my girl or not?” His arms now folded.

“Because I just find it funny how quick you moved on that fast.” Amiyah snapped looking him up and down.

Erik chuckled. “But wasn’t it you that broke up with me? So I don’t get how you could be hurt by the fact that I’m moving on and you stuck.”

“No Erik I’m hurt at the fact that you act like nothing happened between us.” She was gaining her liquid courage when she stepped in his face. “And how you can just bring her here to meet my brother but not have the decency to even look my way.”

Erik sucked in his bottom lip watching her express herself. “Still don’t know what that got to do with you.” He shrugged.

He was just as hurt as she was. His feelings for her were still raw and there but he wanted to make her feel the same way he felt when she ended it with him. When Erik introduce Harmony to Durk and not Amiyah he did it on purpose. The way he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body close to his was on purpose. The way he let her dance on him in front of her was on purpose. He could feel her stares on them. Erik was hurt and he wanted her to know what he was feeling.

Amiyah scoffed shaking her head. “What is it about her that’s so special? What? The fact that you can fuck her without having to worry about her crazy ass brother finding out about it. That’s why you’re fucking her?”

Erik chuckled. “How would you know if I’m fucking her or not?”

“For you to be some drug dealer you sure are a fucking coward Erik!” Amiyah pushed his chest but he caught her by the wrist.

“I told you I’m not a fucking drug dealer and for someone to not ride dick...you sure are riding mine. Why you worried about who I’m fucking if you ain’t the fucking me?” Erik’s words were hard.

Amiyah stared at him. “I hate you.” She mumbled looking at his lips trying to free herself.

Erik backed her into the wall. He put her hands above her head and interlocking their fingers as he looked down at her and towered over her body. “Fuck you say to me?”

“I said I hate you-“

Her words were cut off with his lips connecting to hers. His hold left her hands and his arms wrapped around her waist. Traveling down to her ass he cupped both cheeks firmly. Erik felt his dick jump when she moaned into his mouth . Her tongue gliding with his as he felt the warmth of it overtaking his body. It’s been over a month since he felt her lips. Erik’s heart was beating fast knowing that it was risky to be making out with Durks sister and how anyone could walk in and see them. But he couldn’t stop and didn’t want to.

Amiyah moaned as she held his face bringing him impossibly closer than what he already was. She could taste the Hennessy off of his tongue mixed with her tequila. She was putting everything that she was feeling into this kiss. She wanted him to know that she missed him and wanted to start over. She didn’t mean it when she said that she hated him. With the alcohol and emotions getting in the way she wanted to say anything to keep him by her.

Erik pulled away with a tug of her lower lip and placed a soft peck on it. He cursed at himself for falling weak for her once again. No matter how much space they had away from each other she was always able to pull him in.

“What is it about her that I’m not?” Amiyah interrupted his thoughts. She tried to stop herself from asking the question but she wanted to know.

Erik sighed putting his forehead against hers. “You gotta learn how to stop questioning yourself when it comes to these other females. Your beautiful ma. Stop that shit.” He gave her one last kiss on the top of her head as he left her standing there alone going back to the party.

“Okay.” Amiyah whispered to herself.

__________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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[thatkoreanunni-blog]

Goblin Ep 1

OH HI THERE CHINGOO

I was watching Goblin/Dokkaebi/Dokebi/도깨비 and I noticed the dialogue has a lot of references/puns/parodies that the eng subs don’t really explain -- which makes sense because there’d be a block of text covering the BEE-YOO-TIFUL screenplay, actors/actresses, and puppies!

So I decided to make this blog dedicated to my non-Korean speaking friends who love Kdrama, like, a LOT. Learn Korean and Korean culture through Kdrama! Or maybe just have some eye-candy - that’s good too. In any case, please stay (가지마;ㅅ; ) and enjoy the first post of ‘What Eng Subs Don’t Tell You in Kdramas’!

Let’s get right to it!

Disclaimer 1) There are SPOILERS!! 2) I am NOT saying the translation team didn’t do a great job, but I’m just adding some extra supplement to your Goblin experience/withdrawal

Click Below to 1) Remember that classic Kdrama, “Lovers in Paris” 2) Save a childhood

“WHY CAN’T YOU SAY IT???”

It’s a classic reference, really. Deokhwa says, “Is it about looking for your bride? Why can’t you just say you want a foreign bride? Why can’t you say so?”

The latter is a famous line from the 2004 Kdrama, “Lovers in Paris”. The original line goes: “Why can’t you say ‘that man is my man. That man is my lover’. Why can’t you say it!?”

Now, this drama was super popular as it received the Grand Prize (DaeSang/대상) at the 2004 SBS Drama Awards, and people still make parodies of it today! You might have also heard their other famous quote, “You are here [in my heart]” (“이 안에 너 있다”).

The way that Deokhwa delivered it through his love/rage for his Uncle Goblin, he did a pretty good job since the original was pretty love/rage-y too (that’s not a word).

MY DEAR PUMPKIN

Okay so even though this scene comes before the love-rage scene, I intentionally made it second because..

“What wrong? You should make your wish. Happy Birthday, my pumpkin.”

I’LL TELL YOU WHAT’S WRONG. THIS EPISODE DROPS YOUR FEELINGS LIKE IT’S HOT AND IT’S ONLY EP 1 I CAN’T

ahem The original Korean sentence translates to, “Happy Birthday, my puppy.” Have you ever noticed this Western expression? Pumpkin? Whoever thought pumpkins were cute? Or even remotely acceptable to be a term of endearment? When I heard this for the first time in Canada not too long after departing Korea, I remember thinking, “But why.. / 왜..” Pumpkins aren’t cute!

...I stand corrected.

But please, when you’re with people who are more in tuned with Korean culture, don’t ever address them as ‘pumpkin’ (HoBak/호박) because you’d be calling them ugly. And good job -- you just dodged scarring a childhood! Or else the kid would have been like:

oh.. my heart..

It ain’t right.

The 9-yr-old Han SeoJin is such a great actress! And the screenplay is absolutely beautiful too sigh the feels..

Speaking of beautiful scenes and people (and pumpkin puppies) here are some noteworthy moments in this episode to wrap up this post! Eye-candy for everybody! Yes, even you Pumpkin Pug, even you.

Screenshots

[netmaddy-blog]

Top 10 Board Games We Secretly Hate

New Post has been published on https://netmaddy.com/top-10-board-games-we-secretly-hate/

Top 10 Board Games We Secretly Hate

Everyone loves board games, right? Right? I mean, we all have fond memories of playing with our kids, parents, Uncles, Aunts and friends, don’t we? Actually, when you stop and think about it, you probably didn’t like playing board games as much as you thought. Now, it is all coming back. A nice, friendly game that you thought would last about 30 minutes took 3-hours and becomes as competitive as skating for a medal in Olympic Figure Skating. Well, now that I’ve stirred up childhood trauma you thought you had buried long ago, we might as well take a look at the top ten board games you secretly hate, well, not so secretly anymore.

10. Candy Land

The Good: The game teaches color recognition and matching while reinforcing the lesson of taking turns and being a gracious winner or loser.

The Bad: This is basically a game of pure chance, which means there is a very real possibility you will lose to your 3-year-old without you intentionally throwing the game. Sure, you want your kid to win, but on your terms. As a thirty-something adult, your life is going downhill fast enough and the last thing your self-confidence needs is a can of butt-whup opened by someone whose diaper you were changing this morning. Even worse, you could lose by a considerable margin if you get lost in Lollipop Woods or stuck in Molasses Swamp. Gramma Nutt may not be there to save you. And can we please change her name to something more palatable, no pun intended. My advice: Never play a game with a child, unless you are guaranteed to win.

The Ugly: After your toddler beats you for the third time getting any respect from them will be near impossible and your road to parenting just detoured into the Gooey Gumdrops.

9. Stratego

The Good: Stratego is a unique blend of strategy, memorization, and unit management.

The Bad: What better way to teach your child the horrors of war than with some plastic pawns that are given a numeric value. The game says it teaches strategy. I say it teaches you to sacrifice the weak so the strong may survive. A cruel but universal truth. For example, you send a scout forward and he lands on a bomb; no problem because you can send the miner to disarm it. Heartlessly you then send another scout to his death, finding another bomb so the General can move forward. Callous and indifference are the lessons learned here on the scorched cardboard that used to be a peaceful evenly spaced grid.

The Ugly: You child takes a real interest in explosives after seeing how simple it is to disarm a bomb in Stratego.

8. Chutes & Ladders

The Good: This delightful game is simple and easy to play, even for children who can’t read.

The Bad: This game teaches the way life really works, which is good. But learning those hard lessons before you have all your baby teeth is a bit stressing on a child. Just like in life, you move forward trying to get to the ladder (of success?) and you move up; then before you know it you are back where you started when the chute gets you, and you’re wondering where the last 5 years of your life went. I mean, what the heck is going on? Yeah, you’re going down a chute now, buddy, except the chute, is a set of steps leading down to your parent’s basement because you can’t roll a freakin’ 6 to get to the big ladder in the game of life…uh, I mean the game of Chutes & Ladders. Oh, and if you think you might actually win, well that’s when your kid hits the jackpot and takes the tallest ladder in the game and steals the victory. And now your self-esteem takes a chute.

The Ugly: Breaking the spirit of a child or adult is the large price to pay for 40 minutes of ups and down, mostly downs.

7. Operation

The Good: Operation is the classic skill and action game where you’re the doctor!

The Bad: I’ll skip the over the disconcerting open body cavities “Sam the patient” is exposing to your family, but the medical misinformation is reprehensible. Let’s face it, children aren’t smart and they are impressionable. What if they think we really have rubber bands and miniature horses in our bodies. Didn’t we tell our children not to eat rubber bands…but now Sam has one in his leg?

And, my God, the pressure! Asking our little Sally to remove a broken heart has to be traumatizing. But wait, there’s more, don’t touch the sides or you will get “buzzed” and poor Sam will die. Life and death, it is your child’s call.

I guess Milton Bradley also didn’t take into account a child’s underdeveloped motor skills when designing this pressure cooker of a game. And one more thing, shouldn’t we try to fix his heart, not remove it. What scary-a$did $ medical college we go to?

The Ugly: Whether your child wins or loses, they are an emotional and mental wreck for the next few days. Playing God with your patient on the surgery table will do that to a 6-year-old.

6. Battleship

The Good: You try to deduce where the enemy ships are and sink them.

The Bad: Another war game teaching the annihilation of your opponent. Of course, you will be teaching this lesson for a long time as they game is very long. There is a lot of open water in the game and actually hitting a battleship can take some time. Kind of like a demented Bingo game where you call out coordinates, Battleship isn’t high on action until the bloodlust hits after scoring a direct hit on your opponent’s battleship. Then all hell breaks loose as you take evil glee in sinking the ship and murdering men and women whose only crime was defending their country from likes of you. Hooray! Warfare was never so much fun! Let’s play again when we have 3 hours to “kill”, emphasis on the kill.

The Ugly: Just try coming down off the “high” of sending thousands to their watery grave. Good luck, Colonel Carnage.

5. Checkers

The Good: Two players square off against each other trying to jump the other’s colored discs until only one color remains on the checkered board.

The Bad: I thought racism was on the way out, but it appears Checkers will not let it die. Two separate color discs face off against each other, seeking the complete genocide of the other by literally jumping over the other to remove them from the face of the board. Where is the ideal of living in peaceful equality? Apparently, there isn’t enough room on the board for that, even with 64 squares. No, only one race of colored discs can survive in this apocalyptic analogy of our world. In the words of Jack Nicholson, “Can’t we all just get along?” No, Mr. Nicholson, we cannot. Now king me!

The Ugly: Don’t expect racial harmony and equality in our lifetime as long as Checkers, a game for hate-mongers and racists, is around.

4. Life

The Good: This classic family board game has been loved by generations. Just like your so-called “real life”, this game has paydays, marriages, babies, revenge, and chance.

The Bad: This game is just like your so-called real life. Isn’t the point of a game to let us take a break from real life. Why would I want to play a game that forces me to consider all the stressful decisions an 80-year life would include, but in just 2 hours? As a child, don’t I have enough peer pressure without adding the decision to get married, have children (how many children) and what the heck my career is going to be? I don’t know if I want McNuggets or a cheeseburger in my Happy Meal and now I have to decide whether or not I need Fire Insurance? How is this fun? And guess what, even if you finish the game of Life you still lose if you don’t have the most money. Greed is good according to Milton Bradley. This game teaches you that whoever dies with the most toys, does indeed win.

The Ugly: The game also teaches you about revenge, bankruptcy, and taxes. After playing this game you want to take your own “Life”.

3. Sorry

The Good: This classic game of luck, strategy, and determination is easy to grasp for children as young as 6 years old.

The Bad: This game is labeled as a game of sweet revenge. I can see it now, our nuclear family of Mom, Dad, Sister and Brother sitting down to a game of sweet revenge where all family ties are shattered, feelings are scorned and love gets sent back 3 spaces. The name of this game was aptly chosen as you will be sorry you ever played it. The only time the word “sorry” is uttered is with a sarcastic tone as your opponent (family member) sends back to your “home” base, alone to start over once again. Well, guess what, Mac, they ain’t sorry and they have learned that family means nothing when you are trying to get ahead. Thank you, Parker Brothers for destroying the family, one space at a time!

The Ugly: You will forever question the sincerity of any apology from your family members.

2. Clue

The Good: “Clue” is a game of deduction that the whole family can enjoy together.

The Bad: This game claims to teach deductive reasoning, and that is true and I applaud that notion, but Hasbro misses the fact that they are desensitizing our children to cold-blooded murder. Are we sure its good for little Jimmy to be fantasizing how a murder was accomplished? We are teaching the devaluation of life as we callously call out “It was Professor Plum in the kitchen with a lead pipe.” Does this sound like something we want our precious doe-eyed babes to be screaming at us? Oh, you may be thinking it instills moral values as the crimes are being solved, but think about this: With every wrong guess we are teaching them how easy it is to get away with murder in any room of a house and killing with a variety of household items. Murder isn’t a game, so why does Clue insist on treating it like it is?

The Ugly: You better hide your candlesticks, lengths of rope, lead pipes and wrenches after this unseemly game showcases the ease with which a life can be ended without worry of capture.

1. Monopoly

The Good: The game that teaches capitalism and big business.

The Bad: Let’s start with the fact that no one has actually ever finished a game of Monopoly. Oh sure, you have stopped playing because of starvation, sleep deprivation and most likely sheer hatred for the other players, you used to like before you started playing. But never did you finish a game. It’s impossible and much like a car accident, you can’t look away from the board. Boardwalk and the St. James Place look like nice places to visit, and the rest ain’t bad, but it will cost you your soul to stay. And no railroad can take you home, not even Reading Railroad. $200 is never enough and when you circle the board for the 800th time and you realize you are never getting out of the nightmare world of Monopoly. You can bet your sweet Marvin Gardens that you will think thoughts about you friends and family that will shock you.

“Did Uncle Joe just take and extra $50? He is the banker, he had the access and opportunity to do so.”

“Why am I in Jail again, life is so unfair, my brother should be in jail, not me…not me!”

“My stinkin’ brother owns Park Place, living it up while I’m dying slowly on Baltic Avenue, where is the justice?”

While these thoughts invades your mind it is now 3 am and no one is out of the game yet and the fun stopped 5 minutes after you started. Greed is good and power is everything and it will never end. No Chance, even when you land on Chance! And the game’s mascot, Rich Uncle Pennybags, isn’t the type of Uncle who lends you money and forgets about it. You’ll pay, brother. You…will…pay.

But other than the lust for money, lack of compassion for you fellow man as you force them to mortgage everything and the strain on you physically, emotionally and mentally, this game is great family fun.

The Ugly: It will be days before you speak to any fellow players from the last game. You will never trust or love the same again. And in the end, you still didn’t finish the game. Once you start a game of Monopoly, it never ends…even when it ends.