brick by brick

Wind blowing off the rooftops, water in the basements. Looking like lightning strikes again. var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5299609"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=&e2=&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

[grayccle-blog]

eviegdi:

“What’s with toddlers and phases where they get obsessed with animals? Like, I get that some of the first words we teach kids are that the dog goes bark and the cat meows, but should that really inspire an entire preoccupation with running a rabbit farm out of one’s apartment? I don’t think so. But hey, if anyone has a pet rabbit, I know of a small child who would absolutely love to come visit.”

“Unfortunately I’m all out of pet rabbits right now, but I think it may possibly be easier to purchase a stuffed toy or two? Not quite the same thing, granted -- but none of the mess, and none of the angry landlord finding out rules have been broken. For the record, though... what sound does a rabbit make? ‘Cause I have no idea, so I wouldn’t know how to tie it in with a cat meowing or a dog going woof.”

[grayccle-blog]

tinycameron:

It sounds about right – Izzy’s the type of boyfriend who wants to singlehandedly take away Cams’ pain. It’s very sweet and makes Cameron feel validated in his suffering while also completely supported for the duration of time they get to spend together, tucked away from the world. He kind of wants that now, to just collapse into a bed and wrap himself up in his Izzy’s arms. The thought draws him out of the present moment enough so that he’s blinking owlishly at Gray at the invitation. Tea? Coffee? For once, it appears that Cameron’s not completely failed at the small talk of standard social interactions and he’s actually being invited someplace instead of left to his own devices. “Yeah! Um, I mean, that’d be… it’d be nice. Tea, please?” he answers, taking every word seriously despite the light tone that may imply otherwise. He genuinely would spend a day inspecting bathroom rails if it meant the chance for a conversation with someone outside his friend group while, simultaneously, drawing him away from another chance encounter with Aiden.

“Great,” Gray’s smile is almost blinding with how genuinely pleased he is at Cameron accepting his invitation, and the utter enthusiasm behind it is so lovely. It’s no secret that Gray has been feeling lonely as of late, and he’s able to keep up small talk with just about anyone, but it’s more than that right now with Cameron. He doesn’t just want him to come up for tea and a chat to fill some lonely void in his otherwise empty apartment (empty life), but rather, he really wants to try and help calm him down, or at least earn a little bit of trust with him no matter how long it takes. Even if it’s months from now and Gray’s on his deathbed, it’d mean the world to him if Cameron would meet his gaze, smile at him and stand proud in his presence without feeling the need to endlessly apologise for things that don’t require any apology. It’s a long shot, and it’s not like time is something Gray has an awful lot of, at least not in the long-term sense. But it’s a nice little goal to keep him occupied. “Tea it is! I hope you don’t mind if we use the elevator? I can’t manage the stairs,” he hasn’t told the other about his cancer, but he knows that he looks sick, even if it’s an unnamed illness, and that will likely be explanation enough.

[grayccle-blog]

tinycameron:

He keeps his eyes trained on the mottled skin, not wanting to look up to visualize the worry he can definitely hear in Gray’s voice. It’s not misplaced – he supposes, backtracking or not, the injuries do look pretty frightening on the surface and he’d hit the ground hard. Cammy allows him his moment before lifting slightly unfocused blues onto the features of his current companion. “Okay…” he agrees after a long pause, hands dropping back down to his sides. “I just…” he’s kinda hit the wall when it came to things to say without belaboring the point and he flushes at his own inability to converse normally. He supposes he could blame it on the crackles of anxiety he feels constantly flickering in his peripheral senses. Maybe him and Izzy could move? “My boyfriend’s gonna be so worried,” he whispers first before repeating it, a bit louder. “If you’re worried, I bet he will be t-too, huh?” It’s not exactly the best conversation prompt in the world but he’s trying.

Gray doesn’t know who Cameron’s boyfriend is, but he can only hope that the answer to that question is a resounding yes. Lord knows, if it was his loved one with bruises like these, he’d sure as hell be worried. He barely even knows this kid, and he’s got more than enough concern for him -- his boyfriend should, too. Probably best not to say it quite that way, though. Word it a bit differently in the hopes of not worsening the boy’s anxiety any. “I think he’ll be a bit concerned, yes. But only because he cares about you, and I can’t imagine he’d like the idea of you being in pain,” he comments, offering a tentative smile in the other’s direction. “Would you... like to come inside, maybe? I can make tea or coffee, or whatever takes your fancy, and you can inspect those bathroom rails I was talking about,” it’s said in a gently playful tone, trying to lift the spirits of the conversation if only a little. 

[grayccle-blog]

tinycameron:

“You know, that doesn’t sound like too bad an idea. My boyfriend might be a little confused but I’m s-sure he’d help me out.” Now that he’s labeled it, it’s almost as though Cameron can’t stop saying the word. It’s a lot less scary coming out to near-strangers when he’s got a boyfriend as lovely as Isaac. “They’re, I mean, it’s not so bad.” The person stood before him looks far more worse for wear though Cammy would never dare say as much. He’s hardly in any position to be complaining about a few banged up bones. Has he gotten them checked out? Yeah, by my ex. He wants to respond in a monotone, the chilling encounter still fresh in his mind. Instead of unloading his personal baggage onto the kindly unassuming stranger, he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “No, I guess I – do they really look that awful?” He’s a bit fretful now, turning a worried gaze down onto the swelling of reds and blues.

The last thing Gray had wanted was to make the other feel self conscious, and he’s feeling bad for it the moment he realises that he has. “No! No, they don’t look awful, just-- just painful... I’m really no stranger to bruises, and I’d hate to see anyone in pain,” it’s true that he often finds bruises on himself where there’s no real reason for them, and though they don’t particularly hurt, he knows that a normal bruise should. He also knows from experience how it can feel to have someone calling out your appearance based on an illness, which isn’t at all what he’d meant to do here, but he feels he may have stumbled into that territory anyway. “Honestly, if you hadn’t of pointed them out, I probably never would’ve noticed,” not necessarily true, but they are on his elbows and it isn’t as though Gray tends to inspect there on every acquaintance he happens to bump into. From what he can remember of his last meeting with Cameron a week or so ago, he’d seemed quite fretful and anxious then, so maybe that’s the trend here and Gray hasn’t necessarily been the complete cause for it. Still, he wishes he could better help to soothe him. 

[grayccle-blog]

lucbaz:

Lucian was hanging outside the building, the last bit of a cigarette dangling from his lips. The wisps of smoke curled up as he took it from his mouth, and dropped it to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe. It was decompressing, but it was also a new place– one with new, well, customers. Definitely a few of his neighbors. His eyes scanned the area, before resting his eyes on someone just approaching the building. Lucian put on his best smile, and immediately strode over to the other tenant, an air of confident around him. “Hello! Hi, I think you might live in the same building as me, but you see, when I came out to have a cigarette, I think I have might have left my keys in the apartment.” That was a lie, but no one could tell with him any longer. The language that explained that long since repressed. “Do you think maybe you could let me in? Sorry to be a bother. The name’s Lucian Baz.”

Gray is a rather gullible person, all things considered. He isn’t necessarily naive, but he strives to see the best in all people and not let himself be overly suspicious where there’s no need to be. Unfortunately, right now that is coinciding with how few of the residents he actually knows at Marlborough, and so he has no way of verifying whether or not the person is telling the truth. He can only hope and assume that he is, and it doesn’t even cross his mind to question him further. “Oh, yeah sure-- no problem,” he agrees readily, already moving toward the doors to open them. “How’re you planning to get into your apartment? Is there someone waiting for you inside, or should we call the landlord and ask for assistance?” 

[grayccle-blog]

tinycameron:

“It’s no wonder I never went very far with, um, sports after middle school. I’m so terribly uncoordinated, I’ve managed to injure myself in the shower of all places.” He rubs his elbows with a hint of a pout; it’s too warm or else he’d have them covered up most definitely. “They really ought to put a warning on those things – watch your step or slippery when wet or something.” It’s a well orchestrated fib, or at least he thinks so. At least the swelling has gone down.

“I had to get grab rails fitted to mine -- you should look into it, they’re a life saver. Literally,” he chuckles quietly, brushing his hand over his jaw and the slight stubble that’s begun to form there. He really should shave, but his hands haven’t been very steady as of late, and he’d rather not risk cutting a nice big scar into the side of his cheek. Maybe he’ll have to ask his sister to help him out when she next comes round, though he knows she’s busy. Maybe he’ll just grow a beard. “Those bruises look painful, though. Have you had them checked by anyone?” probably not, considering the costs and where they live, but it’s always better to ask than to assume. 

[harryoholicc-blog]

Liam in leather.

[grayccle-blog]

[grayccle-blog]

how do you feel about the fact that you're going to be alone for the rest of your (short) life? i mean, no one's going to want to be with a cancer patient, after all.

“Sad? I’m not sure how else there is to feel about that. I know I’ll always have my family, so at least that’s something. But I know I can’t really get close to anyone anymore – both because I wouldn’t want to hurt them by keeling over, but also because they’d likely try to keep their distance for the same reason. So long as I make a few acquaintances who I can banter with from time to time, I suppose that’ll be enough to tide me over.” 

[grayccle-blog]

if you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you want to be?

“I know in bed probably sounds like a really boring answer, but I’m kind of tired and aching today, y’know? And I’d love to just cuddle up to someone and relax. Maybe talk for a few hours, or watch a couple movies. Just something warm and cozy -- intimate and sweet.” 

[grayccle-blog]

how do you stay so optimistic & upbeat all the time? is there ever an instance where you let the gravity of your illness sink in?

“I’m pretty sure it’s sunk in already, and will continue to stay that way. Maybe that’s why I can be upbeat about it, because I’m not necessarily being optimistic at all. I’m not convinced I’ll survive – in fact, if I were placing a bet, it’d be on the very opposite, and I guess that just means that what time I do have left, be it months or decades, it’s all precious. Life is good, and I’m not happy about dying, but I’m very happy about living. There are times when I waver, I can’t lie about that. Thinking about what could’ve been, what I’m missing out on, or even thoughts of how my dad was toward the end. But those sort of thoughts just make me feel worse, you know? What’s the point in making my situation worse for myself when I could at least be trying to be positive.” 

[grayccle-blog]

[grayccle-blog]

jacoberickson:

Being watched is one of Jacob’s favorite hobbies (at least when he chooses to be in the spotlight) so it’s no surprise that he’s living under Gray’s microscope. At the point of his comment a small shiver runs down Jacob’s spine-— it just sounds so sincere. He’s used to empty compliments used as passes to get what they want, but the words coming out of Gray’s mouth are all so different. He actually means them.

When he sees a blush begin to crawl across Gray’s face he almost feels accomplished. He loves getting reactions out of people and this one means even more to him for some reason. “Nowhere near as beautiful as yours-— and I’m nowhere near drunk enough to be admitting shit like that.” He laughs again, ordering another drink for himself, and then looking over his shoulder at Gray. “You want something?” He’s noticed all that the other is drinking was water, but didn’t feel the need to comment on it-— people drink what they drink and he doesn’t want to barge into anyone else’s business. 

A wave of relief hits him. Thank God he doesn’t know who he is. There was this hidden anxiety deep in his brain that maybe Gray did know who he is and what he does. And that he’s just trying to get some for the night. Now that he’s reassured himself that isn’t the case he feels much better. “No, no. But I do sound an awful lot like Beyonce in the shower.”

Gray is extremely flirtatious by nature, and sometimes his words aren’t sincere. However, that’s only with close personal friends whom he knows his flirting will be entirely lost on -- it’s playful, it’s teasing, and it’s never to meet any sort of beneficial end for himself. He’s only ever honest when he’s flirting with someone he actually has a genuine interest in, and he thinks Jake’s smile is beyond breath taking. It gives him the strangest urge to lean in and investigate it, nudge his nose against the corner curl of his mouth and brush his lips to the bow of it. 

There’s a little giggle pulling from him then, a soft tinkling sound to mingle with his flushed cheeks. He’s very flattered by the compliment, even if he doesn’t believe it. It isn’t for feeling self conscious (he doesn’t), but rather that in a comparison, Jake’s smile would win any time. “Roughly how drunk does admitting something like that require, usually?” he’s being cheeky, but he’s also a little curious. “Oh... just a water, thanks,” he can’t drink, and he won’t push his body that way. If Jake finds it strange, he’s welcome to ask him about it. He’s an open book for the most part. 

“Thank God,” he lets out a dramatic sigh of relief, though he genuinely had been concerned over his potential blunder. He’s thankful he isn’t sat across from some A-list celebrity, totally oblivious and making a fool of himself (he’s glad to make a fool of himself when it’s on purpose), though he can’t imagine why a celebrity would ever volunteer to sit in a bar such as this one. “Maybe you’ll allow me to hear it some time? A front row seat would be nice.”

[grayccle-blog]

rricklyn:

The voice of someone speaking to him only made him groan even though someone seeing what his deal was, was to be expected. After all he was in the middle of the sidewalk. At least it wasn’t move or some sort of name that would cause him to opened his eyes in a hurry and snap back. Hell, that is what he would do. The rays of the sun was burning and the ground was actually pretty hope, but that didn’t make him want to move. No, he wanted to stay down there for just a little while longer. “I don’t know. I mean i am laying on the ground, the hot ground, how alight can i actually be.” he replied promptly after the groan. 

It doesn’t take a genius to sense this person’s attitude, and the first groan should probably be enough to alert him to keep his distance. He’s too concerned though, and also curious, and he wants to be sure the guy is physically fit and healthy -- just as he’d hope someone would do for him if the situation ever arose. “I suppose you have a point. Are you injured somehow? Do you need a hand, or maybe some water or something? I can’t imagine it’s very pleasant down there -- I can feel the ground practically melting my shoes to my feet.”

[liamupdates]

[grayccle-blog]

rricklyn:

Ricklyn was tried, a bit to tired to be out and about at the moment but he needed to get things for his mother and brother. No, this time it wasn’t work that had him tired. It was actually his sister, who he just got off the phone arguing with. He would never understand how she could be so selfish knowing what he has to do to help, but at the end if the day he knew that if he could do what she was doing he would. Hell, he even tried to, but sometimes dreams come true and then are crushed. At the moment he just gave up. His leg didn’t want to move anymore or maybe it was just his mind telling him to just lay down. So he did. Right where he was he just laid down, arms and legs spread out wide. It could have looked like he fell out, the dramatic way he just fell down, but he was okay. His eyes closed and he let out a sigh.

It isn’t every day that Gray sees someone deciding to lay down in the middle of the sidewalk, the sun setting over yonder and no apparent reasoning for such a display. If anything, he’s usually the one who’s in such an outrageous position, so it’s almost refreshing to see it from this perspective. Still, it worries him slightly, concern for the stranger guiding the movement of his feet toward him. He pauses a few paces away, arms folding and brow furrowing. His head cants to the side, and his chocolate gaze scans over the other male’s form with avid curiosity, seeking out any sign of injury or cause for worry. “You alright down there?”

[dani-zen-rams]