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[sticky post] Necessary Lies

So, Elliot, tell me about yourself.

These are the dreaded words from the mouths of strangers and admissions officers and church officials and therapists and counselors. Dreaded because I haven't lived the sort of life that any of you normies can relate to. For all but the last two, I've spun a web of necessary lies. The things I tell you so that you smile and nod and go on with polite conversation. Because there are two things I don't want from you: I don't want your disgust, your disdain, your revilement...but moreso, your pity. You can keep that for yourself.

In this journal, you'll find the hard and ugly truths. If you want to be my friend, I won't hide you from the darkness of my life. And if you're just here for the show, you can tell yourself this:

I am the adopted son of a Yale English professor. I was homeschooled and had the finest tutors. At his untimely death, I was able to track down my maternal grandparents, with whom I now reside. I am an intelligent, very well adjusted young man and I am oh-so-pleased to make your acquaintance.
But I'll tell you anyway since I know you'll forgive me. Told from Marshall's pov at Paul's funeral.

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Sep. 1st, 2015

Yesterday was my first day of classes. It was nothing like I imagined. There was a lot less educated discussion and a lot more herding like sheep.

Overhearing conversations was extremely disappointing. It's not the cultured place I expected, although even Daniel complained about the downfall of academia, so I guess I'm the one who is out of line. Out of touch. Big surprise there.
Standing in the doorway, Elliot looks out into the yard and to the person coaxing him from the other side of the jamb. He shakes his head and tightens his fingers around the knob. "I can't..."

"There just one thing I wanna know before I drop you off at the train station, and that's, are you fucking crazy?" Jude took his eyes off the road to glance over at Elliot in the passenger seat.

Elliot's backpack was between them and it was overstuffed, his clothes wrapped around a liter of tequila that was his peace offering to the Roma boy. "Pretty much. But you knew that. Why this time?"

"Do you even know this guy you're dropping everything to run to?"

"About as well as I knew Jay."

"Is that what this is then?" Jude scoffed. "You think you're just going to go out there and make best friends with this guy, recreate whatever fucked up thing you had with Nori and Chris? And here I thought it was just a long distance booty call."

"Why does it have to be one of those things? It could be both. Or neither." Shrugging, Elliot looked out the window. "His name is Peter. He seems interesting. I just want to make new friends."

"And you can't do that around town?"

Elliot snorted softly. "Where, at the bar? It's too much pressure. This is better. Just two strangers hanging out with a bottle of tequila. What's the worst that can happen?"

Jude gasped at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? You asked that question? What is the worst that can happen?"

"Yeah. Because I haven't been held against my will before in a stranger's house."

"You're a fucking idiot." Jude stepped on the brake harder than necessary and Elliot jerked forward. "So you don't give a shit about being kidnapped and raped. Fine. How about being tortured, killed, and cut up into little pieces? Because that is probably the worst that could happen."

Elliot blinked and looked out the window, then shrugged. "How is it any different than you trying to hook up with girls on the internet, back before you got with Maddie?"

"Because it's me. And they were girls."

"Because they were guaranteed to be girls? Because girls can't hurt you? So...you think...what? Because I'm gay that makes me a girl? And that means I can't take care of myself?" Elliot snapped.

"It means I fucking care about you, dillhole. That's what it means. It means I don't want to bury another empty coffin with your name on it. Or a full one. It means I want you to be careful. And if shit looks shady, you call. And don't go home with him. And you don't take any drugs. And no matter what, you don't get your ass killed. Jesus. You fuckwad." Scowling, Jude reached over and punched his index finger into the radio knob.

Elliot looked over at him and sighed, then turned the volume down.


Smiling, Elliot gave Jude a sideways punch to the arm. "Love you too. Bruh."


Feb. 22nd, 2015

Happy Birthday to Me! With @minkor-evudence #legalnowbitchrs

Feb. 6th, 2015

Some NSFW Armand/Elliot business....Read more...Collapse )