& i will try to fix you

There are a few things (shall I say, rules) that you need to know before attempting to be a friend, or anything like that. Please abide by these or I might just make your life hell. --- xoxo mama gen First of all, don't start shit, don't talk shit, don't be shit. This is a bullshit free zone, so get the fuck out of here. Always ask for help when you fucking need, it, alright? I have pussies, so if you're going to be a pussy and whine and bitch and moan without asking me for fucking help... so help me god, I will... Mama Gen is always right. Hear that? Always. Fucking. Right. Everyone has a duty. Don't forget it for a second - it's why you're here. The past is the fucking past, we live for the future and work in the present. So live, you dumbass.

[bernard-laswell]

“Gen?”

[bernard-laswell]

Bernard tilts his head to the side. He wonders if he was too strict about the language. But he doesn’t want his son to be exposed to the bad things. It’s already bad that MJ was born as his child, and that he was gonna have to live without a mother. That is why he has decided to stay in the woods. It’s safer here. He smiles as she holds MJ, until she gives him a frown. “…um.” Well, he was hoping that topic wouldn’t come up. “Well, it’s a long story…” Murmuring, he gets up from the seat and takes MJ from her. He goes over to the other room where the crib is. Then he comes back, scratching his head. “And you were busy with Jerry… so.” He hunches his shoulders looking apologetic. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

[genevievewoodsen]

The way his face fell at her look of disapproval made her heart clench and melt at the same time. Why was she so angry about it? Surely she knew that Bernard wasn’t just this man who kept to himself in his hut in the forest. He was human, he had urges. Which sometimes were harder for him to control as compared to ‘regular’ humans. Shaking her head, her gaze moves towards the ground. “No, no. It’s... fine. I’m stressed. Matt’s looking after Nathalie and Jeremiah and my little girl is looking at me with this look of disappointment and she’s still a little baby. I can’t help but feel she hates me already and...” Waving her hand int he air, she moves towards him and hugs him tightly. “You’re going to make a fucking amazing father. ... A father who will teach his kid to not curse like his aunt and her kids who’s words consist of ‘fuck’ and ‘bitch’.” Shrugging her shoulders, she lets out a light chuckle. “... What happened? The mother? Is she gone? And Bernard... your my best friend. Things like this, I should know. I want to know. I want to be there for you.”

[bernard-laswell]

“Gen?”

[bernard-laswell]

MJ starts to fidget on his laps. Bernard picks his son up and paces around the room. “H-word is a bad word too!” He points out then notices what was wrong. “Oh, right. Gen, this is MJ. MJ, say hi to Aunt Gen.”

[genevievewoodsen]

Her cheeks puff out a bit as the two of them start to pace around the room. Part of her wanted to just walk out, shut the door, and enter back in with hopes that it was all part of her imagination. Bernard was her best friend in the entire world and she even knew that he wasn’t ready to have a kid. Yet here he was. With a kid. “Hi, MJ.” Moving over towards Bernard, she plucks the kid from his arms and holds MJ close to her. “You can just call me Gen. Amazing Gen is appropriate too. Close to your ears. I’m going to scream and curse at your... father? Your father here.” Turning her attention towards Bernard, she frowns at him for a few seconds before sighing. “How?”

[bernard-laswell]

“Gen?”

[bernard-laswell]

“Hey, Ge–” He visibly flinches with the f-bomb. “Gen! Language!” He covers the ears of his son. He gives her a disapproving look which only lasts for few seconds.

[genevievewoodsen]

She notice the flinch. She always noticed the flinch and most of the time she’d apologize and attempt to clean up her words around Bernard and integrate it into her daily life. Normally it lasted about three hours until she gave up. “Well, fu--- err. Bernie, what the hell?!” 

[bernard-laswell]

“Gen?”

Bernard calls her out before she even enters the door. Sitting on the wooden chair with MJ, he greets her with his usual smile. “I didn’t know you were coming– ugh, sorry, place’s a mess.” 

[genevievewoodsen]

To this day, it still impressed her whenever Bernard was able figure she was there before she even enters. It causes a smile to spread across her lips. “Bernie, I haven’t seen you in foreee--.” Cutting herself off as she looks around, her brows furrow together in confusion. “What the -- What the fuck?”

[genevievewoodsen]

"I do believe the words are 'Congrats'."

[jon-wolfe]

You know me, I’ve never spoken much (he says before a genuine smile begins to form on his lips. It was nice seeing his friend like this again, full of life and smiling) But congrats, Gen. Truly (he speaks with a light tilt of his head, feeling enormously proud of her for making this big step forward. He looks down at the food before them, but he wasn’t quite that hungry. He’d mentioned that to Gen, but she’d dragged him here anyway. He agreed to come because he cared about her and the two really had needed some catching up to do, not because of dinner itself. He stiffens when Gen brings up Quinn and their sex life, but soon enough he starts to laugh and shake his head. He’d more or less gotten used to Gen’s brazen character) It’s comforting knowing my wife hasn’t regretted marrying me just yet (he takes his glass of water and takes a sip. He’d thought of ordering a beer, but it didn’t seem fair to do so in front of Gen) And thanks, I think Quinn would agree (he laughs again, glad that even in the middle of chaos slowly building within and outside the asylum, there was still time for moments like this one, with friends). It suits you, Gen. Bright and lively again (he comments with a smile. Even if it was just hair color, the golden shade was something that fit Gen’s essence best). It’s good to have you back (there’s a ring of sincerity in his words and a small smile staying on his lips for a little while).

[genevievewoodsen]

“Ah, do I know that.” Grinning from ear to ear, she reached out to his hand and squeezed it lightly. “Thank you.” Simple words, possibly too simple for Genevieve Woodsen but really – what else could she say? Looking at the faces of her peers, her friends, the people who mean the world to her… It was nice to see them recognize her. See her. It was like she had been lost for quite some time and now she could look at herself in the mirror… Yet the question loomed over her – How long will this last? No, Genevieve. Don’t think of that. “Truly hard to regret a face like that, Wolfe. Plus, there would be no chance of you marrying Quinny if you weren’t good enough for her. She’s perfect – needs a perfect man to stand right beside her. I’ll say the same for you too, because the both of you mean a lot to me.” Nodding her head, she started to pick at her food and shoveled a huge bite into her mouth. There was something within Jonah and Quinn that made Genevieve a tad bit envious, only because she and Matthew only seemed to long for each other during their darkest of moments. That when they thrived. They needed each other. Whatever. Not the point. “You think so? I think so. I mean, fuck. I feel alive. Hell, Matthew even agreed and we had… quite a great session together.” Winking again, she chuckled and picked at her food. “Bernie’s been around, Matty’s been around… I’ve been going to counseling and I’ve been told that I need to make deeper connections with people, share some of myself to other people instead of taking it all in. Apparently I keep too much in. Causes chaos --.” Snorting at her joke, she let out a long sigh. “It’s good to be back… but, Wolfe? Be honest with me here. I haven’t been checking in with the group only because my mind’s been checked out… but. What’re the odds for us? The attacks…” Lowering her voice, she bit down on her lip. “Do you think we’ll change it? For the better?”

[genevievewoodsen]

"I do believe the words are 'Congrats'."

A light chuckle left her lips as she sat across from Jonah, her chin resting in her hand. "I know, it's crazy. Who would have thought Genevieve Woodsen would get herself sober? Not that I plan to stay this way, mind you. Just trying to get shit fucking cleared up before, you know, I go into the deep end again. Not good. Who the fuck let me drink all my problems away? Right. Me." Rolling her eyes at herself, she let out a breath of air and pulled herself from the table, leaning back into the chair. The diner was small, quiet, and she had literally dragged Jonah by his hand because she hadn't talked him in quite some time. "I know, I know. You'd rather be fucking your woman the way she likes it -- which, kudos to you. Quinny never complains. I wouldn't if I was her, either. Wolfe's got a nice ass." Winking at him, she took a sip of her water, light eyes moving onto him. "But... it's been a long time since we caught up. Let alone where I'm coherent enough to crack jokes and be fucking self. Also -- blonde again." 

[brookedaviz]

[genevievewoodsen]

I stopped listening to everyone else, and started listening to my own sense of style. I decided I was going to dress to express how I felt and not over think it. Over thinking an outfit or a look is the worst thing to do. Go with your gut. It’s always right.

[genevievewoodsen]

Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions by Alcoholics Anonymous felt heavy in her purse as she switched it from one side to the other. Genevieve had expressed concern with them because of the Celebration Ball, telling them that she was going to be around a lot of alcohol and the demons inside of her were still biting. It had been some time since she had joined and despite her hiccups she made it through the Ball and walked out of there without a sip of alcohol. It was quite the change, it was quite different. Genevieve Woodsen went through it all and she was proud of herself. "OY! You!" Pointing towards the next person, she grinned widely and threw her arm over their shoulder. "Let's go eat, yeah? Mama's starvin'."

[nick-fitzwilliams]

Of all things we can do,

[nick-fitzwilliams]

[With his brows up, Nick turns to the other and shrugs lightheartedly.] So I’ve heard. I have accepted my position as an old man with a stick up his ass if that would get some work done. [He sighs at the word ‘grand’ and ‘elegant’, and shakes his head.] What’s tradition when people who could keep it up are dying? [He eyes the glass of water, presses his lips together.] Well, water is quite essential for your body, y’know. Alcohol, on the other hand, is not. I’ve heard that it kinda works for the soul or something, but I’ve never even gotten tipsy, so I wouldn’t know.

[genevievewoodsen]

"Well, old man with the stick up his ass, meet the party girl with a sailor mouth and rich parents. Typical, if you ask me." Shrugging her shoulders, she takes another sip of the water and tries to pretend it's vodka. It doesn't work. Snorting loudly at his comment, she lets out a long sigh of exasperation. "Let me fucking tell you. Let me fucking tell you. I've been saying that goddamn thing for years, now. Spoiler Alert: In the end we all die." Pausing dramatically, she rolled her eyes and let out another snort. Well, they would all die -- it was the reason they were here. But the old man didn't need to know that. "Water tastes like nothing, boring, bland, blah. Fuck me, you've never gotten drunk?" Eyes widened, she opened her mouth and laughed loudly. "Oh God. You present me with a man who has never been tipsy and you don't expect me to get him drunk off his ass." Shaking her head in disbelief she squinted her eyes at him. "Alcohol will literally make all your problems go away. When you're hungover the next day, the problems all come back. Wrapped with a nifty little bow of the worst headache of your life." Leaning into him, she gave him a mischievous grin. "So... wanna get drunk?"

[genevievewoodsen]

Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions by Alcoholics Anonymous felt heavy in her purse as she switched it from one side to the other. Genevieve had expressed concern with them because of the Celebration Ball, telling them that she was going to be around a lot of alcohol and the demons inside of her were still biting. It had been some time since she had joined and despite her hiccups (so far, she's been sober for twelve days), her whole demeanor had changed. Yet... being around the alcohol, the waiters with champagne flutes, the open bar -- it made her just want to toss everything away and give into her inhibitions. Grabbing an hors d'oeuvre from a plate, she spins around and grabs a random person's arm to drag them onto the dance floor. "Recovering alcoholic, too much alcohol. Dance with me to make me forget that I want a drink so fucking bad. Kay? Kay."

[nick-fitzwilliams]

Of all things we can do,

we have a freaking ball. [Nick grumbles as he looks over the room disapproving frown. He is not exactly happy about leaving the campus in times like this— Booker has disappeared and that is something that bothers him too— and because it’s a tradition, he had to attend a ball instead of working.] Useless…

[genevievewoodsen]

Holding a glass of water in her hand, she let out a sour chuckle as she made her way over towards the man grumbling to himself in a corner. "You know, it honestly looks like you've got a stick up your ass, standing there grumbling to yourself like some old man on his porch." Lips pressed to a smile as she turned to face the room, standing beside him. "But look at it, so grand. So elegant. What's not to love about a fucking great tradition where we celebrate the winners and get drunk off of free alcohol?" Light eyes flickered towards her glass of water and she let out a bitter laugh. "'cept me, of course. Fucking great. What I would give for some champagne or tequila at this fucking useless piece of shit."

[louka-por-series]

[genevievewoodsen]

Genevieve Woodsen sports a thrifted black dress adorned with studded black Valentio pumps for the Project Play Ball

[genevievewoodsen]

"No, that wasn't it."

[serenalockhart]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

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

Y.Z, for the bad nights

[greg-booker-blog]

Ah, awesome

[greg-booker-blog]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

"No, that wasn't it."

[serenalockhart]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

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

[greg-booker-blog]

Ah, awesome

[greg-booker-blog]

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

[genevievewoodsen]

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