Lincoln Porter

26//Tattoo artist and Nursing student//Coffee enthusiast//#blacklivesmatter

[ohxcalypso]

The moment his voice sounded in her ears, Octavia knew exactly who was there with her. She had no necessary point to which she needed to look at him to make sure, she’d heard his voice too many times to mistake it for anyone else’s. The issue with that problem was the fact that she could hear the underlying emotion behind it, it made her wish that she didn’t look the way she did. She shouldn’t look so awful, so beaten up and defeated and just broken. There weren’t many people she was comfortable looking so torn down around, in fact there wasn’t anyone she did yet there were people who she downright hated to see her this way. Octavia put a lot of work into not seeming weak and while she knew Lincoln knew her a lot better than most people, that didn’t mean she wanted him to see her this way.

Even feeling his touch couldn’t make her look at him, though the gentleness behind it did make her eyes fall shut as she took in a few deep breaths. Octavia wanted to tell him she was alright, that she didn’t need him to look after her but there was a part of her that stopped those words from even forming in her mouth. In truth, Octavia felt grateful for the way he cared, she couldn’t even think about the one person she’d had her whole life yet Lincoln was always there for her when she needed to get away, this was the reason, paired with the way his voice sounded, begged, that she pulled her eyes up to his. Only hoping yet knowing, her eyes portrayed how broken she felt inside. “Don’t you have clients?”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

Even now, it astonished Lincoln to see how hard Octavia was fighting to keep herself upright and stoic. He’d always known she was strong, of course- Octavia tended to bring out strength in everyone around her. He just wished it didn’t have to come to this to prove it. Lincoln wished there was some way to make her realize that she could bounce back from this. He watched as Octavia’s eyes fluttered shut and she started to breathe. Good, he thought. Maybe if she’s calmer, she can process all of - whatever the hell happened. God, it was literally killing him not to ask what had gone so horribly wrong after he’d left her party.

Finally, she gazed up at him, looking like he’d both trapped her like a deer caught in the headlights and still managed to light up an escape route at the same time. He let out a very ungraceful snort. “Raven doesn’t come in for another three hours, and I don’t have clients walking through the door for another four,” he said in a lower tone. “I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Octavia.” He squeezed her hands and blinked, looking towards the street. He could kick himself for being so stupid with his own feelings when all Octavia needed was comfort, and he could only hope that she didn’t see through him.

Clearing his throat, Lincoln turned his head back towards Octavia after a moment. “If you want to talk to me the way you do on my balcony, you’ve got me. But you can just rest, too, and I’ll leave you alone. I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve hit rock-bottom.” And Lincoln hadn’t had someone to take care of him, either - Indra and his dad had long considered him an adult at that point. He could only hope Octavia took up his offer. He stood up from his crouching position, slowly lifting up both his hands and hers. “It’s just a two-minute walk,” he said carefully. “You coming?”

[brandiwine24]

My drawing of Lincoln and Octavia scene from 1×06 My Sister’s Keeper from The 100, took a few days to draw and got frustrating but worth It because it came out good

[deeharris-deactivated20210813]

Harper watched as the taller man walked back to her to help her carry her things. “I try not to bug Bellamy.. He’s usually busy doing his own thing, I don’t want to be a bother,” she shrugged as she wrapped her hand around the few bags that she could actually carry on her own. “Thanks for your help Lincoln.” Harper made her way towards the elevator pressing the button once more and entering it when it opened. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around much.”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

Lincoln couldn’t help but nod at Harper’s statement - Bellamy was definitely an independent guy at best, no matter how good a roommate he seemed to be. “Anyone buying enough food that Octavia would call it a proper party can’t possibly be a bother,” he said good-naturedly. He followed Harper to the elevator and stepped in, huffing a bit when she thanked him for helping her. Anyone would’ve done it, and besides, it was embarrassing! “Things have been busy at the parlor, but everything’s going really well,” he said, surprised to realize it was completely true. “I have some family coming to Seattle next month, and aside from the birthday-party-that-must-not-be-named...things are all right.” He wondered how much of Bellamy’s mess Harper had had to deal with after that debacle. “How about you?”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

“Of all the tattoo parlors in the world, you just happen to walk into mine,” Lincoln said, grinning slightly as he opened the door. “What can I do for you?”

[ohxcalypso]

Octavia sat with her head between her legs, bruises obvious and scattered along her skin as she fought off every instinct to flinch with every breath or to cry over how torn apart she felt. Her mind just kept playing what Bellamy had said to her over and over. He resented her and she couldn’t go back knowing that. Her brother had been all she had for the longest time, the only person she could truly trust and he hated her being alive. With staggered breathes, Octavia lifted her head, the bruises on her face now visible. She hadn’t returned to the apartment after she fled her own party, instead she’d wound up in a street fight and she knew she was beat up enough to be worrisome so she’d stayed away, on one of her classmates couches for the night but had been gone before she had to answer any questions. Now Octavia had no idea what to do, she couldn’t go back, there was nothing for her there now, she was so heavy into her thoughts that she didn’t hear anyone walking by, not until she heard her name. “Don’t.. just don’t.”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

Lincoln was lucky enough that he could open up his shop mid-morning; he didn’t open for clients until later in the day today. It was only by chance that he passed through the park and caught a glimpse of a bruised, broken-looking woman sitting on one of the park benches. He walked towards her softly and knelt down next to her, barely making a sound. And then he couldn’t help but shudder as he saw who it was. “Octavia,” he whispered, shocked. It broke his heart that she looked so defeated. He didn’t know what the hell had happened last night after he’d left her birthday party, but it clearly wasn’t good. 

Cautiously, so Octavia could see what he was doing, he lifted his hands up and grasped Octavia’s gently where they cradled her head. Lincoln gave them a gentle squeeze, trying not to overstep his bounds but feeling like he could scream - or use a drink. “I won’t ask if you won’t tell,” he said soothingly, even though he wanted nothing more than to know. But Octavia was bringing out an unusual gentleness, even for him. “But I’d like to take a look at that black eye of yours. I’ve got a first aid kit in the shop.” This would be the way to get her out of here and somewhere safe: he could have some company, but she’d still be able to avoid her own apartment for a little longer. Plus, if Lincoln knew anything about Octavia, it was that she loved suggestions and hated orders. “Look at me?” he said, cursing himself when his voice cracked on the last word. He wasn’t used to begging.

[dmnlincoln-blog]

text : roma + lincoln

Roma: Moving to London sounds really fun, though. Who knows what kind of shenanigans we could get up to. Even though we'd work half of the time. What if we meet the queen?

Roma: WRONG PERSON

Roma: DISREGARD

Lincoln: Whoa there, it's all good

Lincoln: But just so you know, London's the best place in the world to work hard and play hard.

Lincoln: I was there a while back for a year or so - you can't imagine half the crazy shit you could get into in London.

Lincoln: The queen's just the beginning

[forgottencharlotte-deactivated2]

Charlotte sat outside on the ark’s front steps drawing in her sketchbook waiting for someone too help her. She had left her key’s in her apartment and locked the door. She was so focused on her art she almost didn’t hear her neighbor come by her on the stairs. “Oh hey!” She yelled and went to catch up with them. “Hey so I locked my self of of my apartment, Can you help me?”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

It wasn’t every day that Lincoln got ambushed at his apartment door by his next-door neighbor, but when he did, he had to stifle a bit of a groan. Charlotte was sweet enough, and an artist to boot, and so it should’ve been easy enough to play nice, but she could be so...intrusive. “Your best bet is probably to talk to the front desk or text Monroe to let you in,” he said as calmly as he could. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t think I’m in any position to help you.” He took a look at the sketchbook in her hand. “Getting any good drawing done while you’re waiting?” he asked. No matter what, he could at least be supportive of her art, the same way he was with Clarke

[adelaidethaxton]

Lexa announced her presence with a quick “hey,” before plopping herself down on her companion’s couch. “Last night was pretty…odd, wasn’t it?”

[dmnlincoln-blog]

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Lincoln asked as he came around the couch and plopped himself down next to her, keeping a bit of distance but facng himself towards Lexa. “I don’t think there was anything about last night that was normal, and I was on my best behavior. A real stand-up sober guy, you know?”

 He’d come by Lexa’s apartment the night before to let her know that Aunt Indra was probably going to be in town soon and that he was panicking. A lot. But things hadn’t exactly gone to plan, especially with both Lexa and Octavia drinking and neither of them fighting. “You, on the other hand, were pretty tipsy. What’s going on?” 

[dmnlincoln-blog]

[ text ; maya & lincoln ]

Maya: I don't feel well, come cook me dinner.

Maya: I mean.. please.

Lincoln: Don't get me wrong, I love to cook a lot

Lincoln: And I'm totally fine with cooking for you because I'm actually not dead tired right now

Lincoln: But why me? Did Wick burn himself on the stove again?

[deeharris-deactivated20210813]

Harper struggled to carry her grocery bags, they were over filled and heavy. She managed to get them from the cab to the lobby but that was as far as she ot. “Can you help me out?” she finally asked someone who was passing by.

[dmnlincoln-blog]

Lincoln had been about to step into the elevator when he heard a loud thud. He turned around, a little startled, and watched as Bellamy Blake’s roommate struggled with what looked like twice as many grocery bags as she needed. Not caring as he heard the elevator ding, he walked across the lobby quickly, stopping in front of Harper so he could start grabbing bags. There were benefits to being 6′2′’ and as strong as he was. “No problem,” he said with a small smile. “It’d take a superhero to grab all of these at the same time. I’m surprised Bellamy didn’t ask to help.” Not that it was any of his business - though he and Bellamy were friendly and maybe even friends, he wasn’t nearly as close with Harper. 

[dmnlincoln-blog]

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