wildfire

⊰ OLIVER BLACK ⊱ i'll swallow my blood before i swallow my pride.

[asvpfrenchie-deactivated2022112]

a bad boy that’ll treat you like a queen.

[hyfrollie]

panic cord, scout & ollie

[httpscout-blog]

He watched as he struggled to grasp at his shirt. Her hands lifted to help him but she was tiny and wouldn’t be able to help him in the slightest. The pain was so evident that Scout realized she could be angry later. Right now was make-sure-ollie’s-okay time. She saw his side, and how the purple was just starting to form. “Jesus, Oliver,” She muttered, pushing up her long sleeves and softly running a finger over the spot to feel what was underneath. Looking up at him quickly she licked her lips nervously, “Lean against the counter, I’ll wash you up.” She grabbed a wash cloth and climbed on top of the sink to be at eye-level with him. “It’s okay,” She smiled, running her thumb across his cheek. She didn’t know what he did, or why he did it, or if he felt guilty at all, but it’s all fine. Everything’s fine right now. No one’s in critical condition (she figures), Scout’s not mad, not really, and he came to her with always makes her feel better. If he’s hurt, she’s rather he come to her than anyone else.

[hyfrollie]

Ollie brushed away her efforts at help, her small hands raised in the air so eager to try for him. It was embarrassing really, that he still did this and hadn’t grown out of the fights or dragging Scout into it each and every time. The instructions she relaid were simple enough and he leaned heavily against the counter in question, he was so tired but at this point he had no idea if he had a concussion or not and letting himself drift off was a really bad idea. One hand shot out to steady her as she carefully climbed onto the sink, she didn’t look as though she was about to fall but instinct made him reach out anyway. He let out a bone-achingly deep sigh and nudged his face deeper into her palm, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks “Thank you,” he breathed against the tiny pads of her fingers.

[hyfrollie]

panic cord, scout & ollie

[httpscout-blog]

She had to remind herself multiple times that this was Ollie, and he’d be okay. He always is. Still, she worried a little. Each time he came back looking worse and worse. Though that’s not really in her control, now is it? Scout took a hold of his hand and held it tightly, walking him into the house and up the stairs into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them. “What the fuck happened?” She whisper-shouted, covering up all worry with frustration and anger. Out of love, of course. She let go of his hand to pull out the Ollie-Kit, more known as the First-Aid kit. She just sighed, pulling out the rubbing alcohol. “Actually, don’t answer that right now,” She sighs, “Take off your shirt. Did you break a rib, or get stabbed at all?” Doesn’t matter what he’d say, she’d check anyways. Her annoyance was washed away at this point, seeing his injured body in full light and just making her a little annoyed. Out of love, of course.

[hyfrollie]

Ollie followed her as quietly as he could, footfalls nearly silent as he stepped lightly in his tough leather boots. The brightness in the bathroom was too sudden for his eyes and spots danced across his vision, he swiped a hand across his brow and winced when he pressed against a sore spot above his left eye socket. He wrung his bleeding hands together as he thought of a way to tell her but drew a blank, the pressure was lifted when he ascertained that she was too furious to even try to hear him out right now. Justified really, but it still hurt. “I bruised the left side...” he muttered, as he reached back and grasped the sweater from the nape. The awkward position made a flare of pain shoot through him but he grit his teeth and stifled the groan that was nearly forced out of him. The hard look she’d been focusing on him melted away as she looked down to the damage and he shifted uncomfortably.

[hyfrollie]

shot in the dark, garrett

[npelekai]

Garrett groaned inwardly as he saw Oliver rise to his feet, practically rolling his eyes as he was called ‘buddy’. The urge to punch him in the gut too great, though able to be contained as he reminded himself that the other was just intoxicated and was bound to say something that would make him roll his eyes. Instead he sat quietly, knowing that he was always getting into trouble for starting fights, but Oliver would be the one that would get his ass reamed in the worst way possible if anyone heard about it; which they would with the amount of fame Aristotle was gaining. “Drunk and fine,” he answered with a small shrug, taking a drink and just praying that Ollie stayed in his seat and didn’t switch to one closer to him.

[hyfrollie]

Ollie listened to the tiny voice of reason in his head for a moment, oddly enough the tone always seemed to be Scout. Realistically he couldn’t really avoid talking to West Side Down forever and he supposed that if he was friendly until Garrett reacted otherwise she wouldn’t fault him for it right? She had often spoken of how the other guy wasn’t too bad really, underneath the sulky, antisocial air he projected. Oliver lent forward in his seat, smiling lopsidedly and clasping his long, calloused fingers together “Good, good. What’re you drinking?” 

[hyfrollie]

sorry my activity hasn’t been the best the past few days i’ve had so much to do and get ready then tonight i have my flight to NY and I land there about 9pm EST so i’ll get all my replies done then, i promise!! if im awake

[hyfrollie]

panic cord, scout & ollie

[hyfrollie]

httpscout:

The place was quiet. Her brother and sister didn’t live here anymore. Her parents were asleep. Scout wasn’t going to live here for very long. She hated it here. It made her skin crawl with old demons. Pictures of people she wanted to bury hung on the walls. Maybe just n in particular. It was only one more night. Then her place would be ready. But even while she stared at her phone with quiet music playing a few candle lit, she heard the familiar tapping on her window. It was so hard to see out of at this point from all the scratches. She stood, and opened up the window with a smile, only to see Ollie looking like a piece of battered meat. Worry flooded. She said nothing but shut the window and grabbed a sweatshirt to run down the stairs, covering her rather lack of clothing (If Scout intends to lounge around, you bet it’s gonna be in her underwear). Opening the door, she stepped out on the porch, “C’mere,” She held out her hand for him, worry mixing with a frown.

Ollie’s pulse throbbed with the slow tides of pain. It was difficult to see any sort of silhouette through the battered window so he appreciated it when she opened it up to look down. They’d realised a while ago that there were probably better methods than throwing pebbles but it had always done the job and never woken her parents. Still, a text might have been just as good. His eyes tracked where he imagined she was moving through the house and just as they hit the porch the door slid open, showing him one small hand swamped with a long sleeve. “Hey,” he croaked in reply, stepping forward with his usual long stride with one bloodied hand stretched out to fit into hers.

[pavker]

    giving him a grateful nod, he smiled and took the flannel to place to his face and stop the bleeding. “was it?” he asked through the tattered material with a muffled laugh. noah shrugs. “i’m fine. does it look okay?” he questioned him before pulling back the shirt and looking up at him.

[hyfrollie]

Ollie glanced down as though the fact that he’d just been recording had completely slipped his mind. His thumb flicked the screen and he set the video back to the start, beginning to nod in appreciation only flinching once he was watching Noah fall through the air “S’great considering you’re mopping blood off your face,” he murmured, twisting to give him a wry smile.

[bristolgarza-blog]

“I honestly have never been told this so I don’t even know how to take it.. Would this be a compliment?”

[hyfrollie]

“Duh, mangos are so great!”

[pavker]

    tumbling off his skateboard, he’ll roll over on to his back, hands immediately cupping over his nose.“ah, fuck !” noah yells and lays there for a moment. there’s blood gushing from his nose and he it’s starting to drip on to his shirt. noah flipped his hair back and pouted in the sun. “did you get that on camera?” he asks, looking over at the other with a frown. 

[hyfrollie]

Ollie took one halting step toward Noah, continuing once he saw the immediate spray of blood from his nose. Phone lowering as he moved. He untied the flannel shirt wrapped at his waist with one hand and crouched down next to him, eyes crinkling at the corners with his lopsided grin. He seemed ok. “Dude that was fucking sick until, uh, you know,” he murmured, offering the tattered shirt “I think so, but are you okay?”

[bristolgarza-blog]

“It is always a sad day when I run out of mangos in my fridge. Anyone have stray mangos to share?”

[hyfrollie]

“Is it weird if I say that you look like a mango kinda girl?”

[hyfrollie]

shot in the dark, garrett

[npelekai]

He was always so quiet, never noticed until it seemed like the wrong moment. But at the bar, no one noticed Garrett unless they were looking for something, usually a fight; not that he minded. Fighting had been something he looked forward to, finding it more appealing than sex on some level, particularly the after math. But for now, he sat at the bar, drinking and just enjoying the fact he could be alone while surrounded by so many people. Taking a look around the place for the first time since sitting down and noticed Oliver. Despite the bad blood between their bands, he didn’t have a personal opinion of the drummer, just glancing away and stuck to his spot, just around the corner and just far enough away to not be perturbed by him. He focused his eyes onto the TV screen that played over head, above the bartender’s head, not really caring for sports but figured it was better than overanalyzing everything Oliver did, trying to figure out just what he thought about someone he barely knew.

[hyfrollie]

Ollie quirked one eyebrow as he raked his gaze over the fairer haired guy. So far he hadn’t seen anyone else and quite frankly he was surprised it had happened this quickly, there was beef between them. West Side Down and Aristotle that is. Though to be honest? It was a fucking mystery to Ollie, he’d never really spoken to Garrett and from what he could tell he didn’t speak at all and when he did anything that came out made him sound like a bit of a dick. He could sympathise. Maybe it was the media stirring shit? Maybe there were things Scout just wasn’t telling him. Either way now that they were all stuck in the same city, his home town and that stirred something in him. Call it fucking Dutch courage. “Garrett!” he called, before he could get a handle on his mouth “How you doin’ buddy?” If he remembered this later, he’d have to remind himself to punch himself in the face. Buddy? He’d never called anyone buddy in his life. They weren’t friends, fuck, they weren’t anything.

[okxavier]

“Nah, wish it had been though, to be honest with ya’. Got a mouthful of that silicon-y rubber taste, all slimy and sticky–bit like the actual seedy stuff, ya’ know? Eh, poor bloke wasn’t the worst, I s’pose. Sorta teethy, teeny hands, a bloody cuddler to boot at 2am, and– right, on second thought, then? Might’ve been the worst.”

[hyfrollie]

“Plain lube is the bane of my fuckin’ existence, like, I know the stuff gets everywhere but I’m still not used to that taste? Don’t actually know but I guess I can imagine. Sorta teethy? Any teeth at all unless fuckin’ very carefully applied in the right moment by someone with experience is just hell. I guess he gets a pat on the back for trying, or a cuddle I guess. You not a cuddler then? I’m sorry man.”

[hyfrollie]

panic cord, scout

It hadn’t been long enough for this, they had plead and promised that they would be on their best behaviour. They wouldn’t play up, wouldn’t damage their reputations any further for the good of the band. For each other. Ollie skulked along in the shadows down the worn sidewalk on a route that he knew too well, Scout hated being there and her plans to get her own place were already picking up. Bassists gets shit done. The flood of adrenaline had long since abated and he felt like each step dragged, every pound of his boots against the cement sent tiny waves of pain through him. He pressed on into the familiar front yard of the house, letting out a breathless groan as he bent to gather some tiny stones with his right hand the other clasped at his side. Ollie lent back and tossed them at the window he’d stood beneath for the majority of his teenage years, guilt felt like a lead weight in his stomach. Or maybe that was just slight internal bleeding, either way, it fucking sucked.

“Scout,” he called as quietly as he could, raking a hand back through his hair “I fucked up.”

[hyfrollie]

shot in the dark, garrett

Ollie pressed the calloused pad of his index finger into the shallow groove of his temple, he was six rum and cokes deep and Captain Morgan was certainly serving him well. Everything had the lovely honeyed glow around it that he associated with the golden ratio of getting trashed, a point where his smiles still came easy and his balance was on the edge of being thrown but not quite there just yet. It’d been a good night all things considered, he’d barely been back a day and the walls of his room had already started closing in around him. Armie and Scout were resting and so he’d let them get settled in peace but there was something shifting in his veins, the urge to roam even though he’d only just had time to shower and change. It was the pull to pace the familiar streets, to place a glass on the same drink-tacky bars from his home. The real home that he loved- not the claustrophobic van and the countless almost clinically clean hotels that all blurred into one. Ollie drummed his fingers against the exposed skin of his knee through his jeans, twisting on the bar stool to glance around.

[vapid-cynicism]

I’ve stopped drinking for drunkenness, and started drinking to drown.

10 Word Story (via vapid-cynicism)

[domyownstunts-deactivated201602]

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[hyfrollie]

you're stuck on a street in the middle of nowhere and only have enough change to make one phone call at a pay phone. who do you call?

I’d ring Gus, our tour bus driver who lives downtown.