i've lost it all, just a silhouette

setting fire to our insides for fun

[iantylers]

norkiewrites‌:

Everything’s on autopilot, fueled by pure instinct. If she spends even half a second to think, Dylan knows she’s wasting precious time. Ian is everywhere. An all-encompassing presence above her. She is safe with him, even as he lowers his lips to the pulse point at her neck. Fear doesn’t course through her — he could end her entire life if he so wished. Ian could run her dry. But this is Ian. This is a boy she’s known all her life. That fact doesn’t change just because he isn’t a witch anymore. Doesn’t change because his diet has shifted to solely that of blood.

Even without her wolf hearing she would have been able to register his words. Quick and quiet, they brought a smile to her lips non the less. Brevity be damned, her heart thudded thunderously against her chest in response. Yet before she can reply, before she can copy them, he’s pulling away and she’s left rested against the pillow, chest heaving in the moments where she can drag in breath.

There’s a moment where she stays silent, eyes studying every inch of his face. Half because seeing him like this is exhilarating and half because she wants to keep the tension. Maybe make him sweat a little. Then, “I think I’ve loved you my whole life,” she replies, hand lifting to rest against his cheek. She could crack a joke about this, sure. But there’s an insurmountable amount of admiration the young wolf feels for him — he doesn’t have to ask. She’s sure it’s almost glaringly obvious that she’s perfectly okay with what this was all leading towards. But it’s still nice of him to ask. To make sure.

She hums, as if she’s contemplating his question. Really contemplating, face scrunching up in thought before — a grin slips across her lips. Wide, eyes alight with humor and love and about twelve other emotions that make her heart swell. “I want this,” she tells him. “I want us.” Another pause, this time a far more serious one. Dylan lifts up, pressing her lips to his own. “I want you.”

I think I’ve loved you my whole life, she says, and he stops because his life has ended again. There are different timelines now, the time before, when his family was alive and the time before when he had magic, felt it flowing from every fiber of his being, the time before he knew Dylan had loved him for her whole life. 

Some of the afters were horrific. He missed his magic, even if he wouldn’t admit it. If everything else hadn’t happened... Ian wouldn’t have wanted to be a vampire, wouldn’t have felt the sense of urgency, craved the sense of security that his fangs and speed and bloodlust provided. His ability to remain undead. 

Some of the afters restarted his unbeating heart. For how could one not feel so deeply and immensely in this moment? “Me too,” he tells her. Ian doesn’t quite know how he’s speaking in this moment. Kissing and feeling things and knowing she wants this, wants him, is so vastly different from the actual words, closing the gap between knowing and knowing. She has loved him for her whole life, and he has and he will love her for his. 

His body takes care of the rest, and hers, their gasps and moans and laughter punctuated with kisses on shoulders and cheeks and lips and soft asks of, do you like this? and hang on, and oh, and soon he is physically out of breath even though he doesn’t need to breath, because his emotions are playing such a toll on him. 

“Next time I’ll have a playlist,” he promises, stopping to look at her underneath him, his hips against hers, his hand on her torso, thumb against the curve of her breast. “Because you’re— well. Do you wanna be my girlfriend? Is that something I gotta ask?” 

[iantylers]

norkiewrites‌:

she doesn’t know what she expects. there’s fear — so much fear — that she’s just ruined the entirety of their friendship. that all their years together have been extinguished by her dumb decision to give in to her impulsion. the moment where she pulls away lasts an eternity, or at least it feels that way to her. and then — 

ian’s surging forward, rolling them over and dylan is suddenly and completely consumed by him. the young wolf sucks in a breath from between her teeth, clear blue eyes locked onto his face as he hovers over her. god where does she put her hands? where does she — the kiss is soft, slow, far more measured than hers had been and yet dylan’s heart jump-starts as if its been shocked.

her hands card through his hair, fingertips coming to rest against the small strands at the base of his neck. she breathes through her nose, unable to will herself to pull away from his lips as she opens her mouth wider for him. dylan’s head is full of fuzzy cotton, there’s a buzzing surge of electricity running through her blood. temperature is relative to her seeing as she runs hot anyways, but she can feel it now. can feel how her cheeks flush and her skin burns.

that little bit of control she’d fought so hard to hold on to slips away in an instant. dylan presses up towards him in a hungry attempt to deepen the kiss, one of her hands slipping down his side to anchor at his waste, tugging his lower half closer to her.

All of a sudden she is everywhere. She is everything. He feels a tugging in his heart, something shifting. In a few seconds, once her hands rest at his hair, Ian realizes the feeling. They are puzzle pieces, slotting together. Making everything fit. His heart feels whole, that’s what it is, expanding in his chest as it makes room for the permanence of her. Of this. Because he’s loved her forever now, but oh. 

Oh. 

This is love and lust and happiness all rolled into one, this is his lungs expanding with air he can’t breathe, his heart beating loudly to a beat it doesn’t really pump. The reality of his physical being doesn’t matter in this moment, all that matters is his lips on hers, the delicious taste of her skin, the spot on her neck right next to her ear where she smells the sweetest. They are hip to hip, the tension building easily, deliciously, far too quickly. He knows what’s going to happen— does she? 

“Mmm,” Ian mumbles out, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss on her neck. He can’t seem to tear himself away from that spot. “I love you.” He says it quickly, knowing she can hear it no matter how quietly he says it, but it’s also self preservation isn’t it? He was kissing her palm and then they were kissing and— what if he’s misreading this. “Wait. Wait. Dylan?” Ian shifts slightly, his shins up against her feet. He props himself up on his hands, her face so close to his and yet unbearably far now that he knew what it was like. 

Her. Underneath him. 

“Dyl, do you want this? To have sex with me?” 

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

She shouldn’t be caught off guard by his words and yet she can’t help the sudden race of her heart. Again. Maybe it’s because he’s suddenly caught her, or maybe it’s because her mind’s finally been called out but Dylan can’t keep her eyes from him. There’s a heat that flames across her cheeks, something she doesn’t actively hide, if only because of the distraction sitting right in front of her.

It’s like he’s admitted to something without actually saying the specific words aloud. Just like her heart had given her up, his words had, too. And maybe she doesn’t want to ruin their friendship but she also knows that’s a line she’s been telling herself for some time. The destruction of their entire home hadn’t separated them. Something pulls them apart, something pushes them back together. Like the tide, the rolling waves, a constant —

Dylan surges forward and kisses him. It’s longer than she’d intended, or at least that’s what it feels like. She pulls back a few seconds later, mind blank, lips tingling, waiting. She’s suddenly lightheaded and draws in a desperate breath, eyes flashing from his own, to his lips, then eyes, lips, eyes.

At various times in his life, Ian’s had their first kiss at the front of his mind. All of the rest of the time it’s hiding in the background, always there, never forgotten, but never acknowledged, either. Something in the air surrounding them when he’d climbed into her bed had made him think now was probably the time to ask, to see, to act. 

But she’d always seemed to easygoing about their dynamic that he’d let some doubt fester that she didn’t feel the same way. It would always go away within thirty seconds, but that much time was enough to deter any thoughts he entertained about making the first move. 

They could argue about that later, though. Now— she was staring at him, and staring right back was made difficult by the fact that she was the sun. Gold hair and that smile and he was seeing stars already at the thought that she’d just reached forward and kissed him. He’s breathing heavily, because he still feels emotions ( more strongly than ever ) and it’s the only way he knows how to get his mind to calm down. It gives him some way to focus on his next move. 

And there’s only one option, really— it’s maybe three seconds since she’s pulled away that he thinks through all of these things and then in a move that may be completely too fast or entirely in slow motion, Ian doesn’t know — time doesn’t exist anymore — he rolls over, his hands on either side of her, pushing him up. One of his knees edges between hers, making space for his leg, and then he leans in, softly, kissing her again, slowly, softly, until his tongue slowly pushes at the seam of her lips. 

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

It strikes her then and there how utterly intimate this whole situation is and for the life of her Dylan can’t figure out why. They’ve done this before. Countless times. Shared a bed. Talked. Been the only ones in the room. And yet… there’s something about the way he presses a kiss into her palm, soft and gentle, that makes her cheeks flair and her heart skip. She hopes he can’t hear it but knows that prayer will probably fall onto deaf ears. Ian hears everything, especially now.

Her palm burns even as she rests it back against his cheek, tips of her fingers running slow through the hair at the base of his neck. She readjusts herself slightly and finds that she’s just that much closer to him.

His words make her look down and away — he’s right. She feels that. Feels it in the very depths of her stomach. The inability to relax. The paranoia. The fear. Dylan hadn’t been ready last time and her entire world had been taken from her. She’s found peace again, found friends, found him. If the world decided to take this, too, away from her she was ready to fight tooth and nail to stop it.

“I’m getting… I’m getting better,” she mumbles, cheek pressed into the pillow. “It’s just – hard. I was on the run for so long. By… by myself for so long.” Her eyes lift then. She sighs. “And now that I’ve found things again I don’t… I don’t want it to be taken away.” Dylan’s face scrunches, “I don’t want you to get taken away again.”

The young wolf nods. “I know.” You could protect me before, sits on the tip of her tongue but she also knows that’s not what he means. “We can protect each other now, deal?”

There’s never any need for Dylan to get better at anything. As far as Ian’s concerned, she’s the best. It’s just her own panic and paranoia that he wants her to work through, for her sake. So that she doesn’t have to live with the weight of the world on her shoulders, worry that something is going to come and fuck him up. He can take care of himself now, much better than he could have done before. 

Though very little will ever beat the ability to create fire and manipulate it, to feel at one with nature itself. 

Maybe this situation, right here, where he feels at one with her. 

It harder to keep his thoughts in line when she shifts closer to him, when her face turns and he can see, as Quinn had once written in the margins of one of their scripts, ‘her eyelashes falling softly on her cheeks.’   

He hadn’t known how to write out the romantic bits, but he’d known how to picture it, in his mind’s eye. “Deal,” he says, humming at the feeling of her fingers in his hair. “You know—” his unbeating heart feels heavy in his throat, ready to spill out of his mouth. Disgusting. He’d ruined that thought. “You know, if my heart actually still worked like it’s supposed to, you’d have it racing, too.” 

[iantylers]

jacobthorne‌:

“Hello,” Jake greeted in a friendly though awkward manner, his gaze searching the male’s face for any sense of familiarity and frowning when he came up short. He was about to shake his head when he heard the name Ames’, confident the other had him confused for someone else. Though he paused when his sisters name followed, this time looking at him with a narrowed, suspicious gaze. First one dude shows up at their house and now another catches him in a bar? Making a mental note to sit down with his sister and discuss her new friends, Jake offered a smile and nodded. “The one and only,” he confirmed before adding. “That we know of, anyway.” It wasn’t completely far fetched, Elijah Thorne was terrible on all accounts. Why not add adultery to the long list of his sins? “Are you a friend of hers, or… a friend of hers?”

“I’m not sleeping with her,” Ian answered bluntly, “And I don’t want to be. But she is one of my closest friends.” Even though though no one would have thought it when they saw the two together, nor would he have felt comfortable admitting it in front of AJ. As far as he was concerned, though, the reality was they’d gone through some shit together. An almost-kidnapping, a murder, grand theft auto... That shit bonded people. “We were together on the night of the Blood Moon. She’s one of the reasons my best friend wasn’t kidnapped.” Or worse. “So I guess she’s not that bad. I could probably do without her snark and the wet dog smell, though.”

[iantylers]

teddyxbeacon‌:

“I’m with Ian,” Jack told Teddy, looking at the girls then back to his friends. “You really need to get better at picking girls, man.” He preferred no-strings-attached, but he had enough girls already. He didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he wasn’t in the mood. This was supposed to be a guys night. Sure, it was a spur of the moment decision, but they were all supposed to be having fun. Somehow they’d all ended up in completely different moods.

If you’d had asked him 3, 4, or 5 years ago, he’d had readily agreed to belligerently go around smashing mailboxes, but now, it just seemed fucked up. Now, he could put himself in someone else’s shoes and he’d be pissed if he woke up to a smashed mailbox. Laura’d also kill him if she found out. Plus, he fucking knew everyone in town and the Wilde’s didn’t have a great reputation as it was, he didn’t need to add even more to that (not that he hadn’t given people enough reason for that growing up).

Jack sighed, “Let’s get the fuck outta here then.” He clapped his hands and wrapped his arms around his friends shoulders. “Lets go boys, I’ve got a better place.” He lead Teddy and Ian out of the bar and onto the street, stumbling on the curb. “I don’t think it’s a bar kinda of night.” Jack laughed, “I never thought I’d say that.”

“Walk with me!” he exclaimed, walking backward with a goofy grin on his face. They were going to have a good night tonight, Jack was determined.

Teddy shrugged and finished the rest of his drink, slamming the now empty bottle back on the table. “Alright, Jack… whatever, take us to this fun new place.” He rolled his eyes at his friend and smiled. “Ian, come on. You’re not going home, don’t be an idiot.” Teddy sighed and patted his friend on the back. “We’re supposed to be having fun, dude. I won’t force you to talk to girls or break mailboxes.” He said. 

“I can’t believe we even came here in the first place.” He chuckled. “I would have been fine just sitting around the apartment, watching hockey and eat popcorn.” He replied. “I mean, I’d still be interested in that.” He said pulling his jacket on and heading for the door. 

@iantylers

Oh now they were fine with leaving. Now Teddy couldn’t believe they’d come here. Funny how they both forgot they were the ones had wanted to come here. Hadn’t they? It was their fault. Wasn’t it? It had to be— otherwise why would he be so angry he could scream? 

“Let’s go to Purgatory,” he said, pulling on his own jacket as they headed outdoors. It wasn’t so much for actual warmth, moreso for the aesthetics of it. “Maybe there’s some fight slots open. You guys can watch. They’ll have drinks there, too. And you—” he pointed to Jack. “No fighting when you’re this drunk.” 

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

He has a point. Though there’s a small part of her that lingers on the fact that both she is Laura (and AJ) were his girls. What… did that actually mean? More so, she didn’t particularity want to share that title. “I guess so,” she admits anyways, conceding with a small nod. There’s a small moment next where she doesn’t quite process what he’s said, and then — everything makes sense. “That’s… why she was scary to you.” Ian had been seemingly a form of competition. 

“Except we don’t feel numb to it,” she murmurs after a moment. Dylan’s hand shifts out, fingertips pressingly gently against the space between his brows. “You’re angry. You — there’s this furrow you get right here that gives it away.” Her hand lingers before it shifts, sliding to press against his cheek. “You’re angry. I’m sad. We’re a mess.” A pause, the longest of ones yet as she looks over him — his face, the shifts of his expressions, his eyes, the curve of his lips. “But at least we’re a mess together?”

Something that feels suspiciously like a heart even though his doesn’t work anymore, quiet and frozen in his chest, leaps. Anger and grief are two halves of the same burden, the same weight that have taken up permanent shelter in that cold, dead heart of his. Ian feels the difference between being out there, when he pushes his deep sense of malaise down, into a place he tries to pretend doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s hard to grieve without a heart after all, isn’t it?

Dylan isn’t one of the boys, though, where he can discuss his problems casually. Jack and Teddy are helpfully wrapped up in their own problems even while they care about his, and allow him to return the favor. They have humor and good hearts and crabbiness and they’re all assholes to each other. Dylan isn’t even Laura, who likes to keep things bubbly when she knows others can benefit from that, or AJ, who is so guaranteed to start bickering with him about something done that he’s started to look for her whenever he wants to start a meaningless fight. 

Dylan is the one good thing this universe has given him. Her eyes are so dark, so focused on him, he feels seen. Everything he feels, all of his pain, she looks at him as if it’s written all over his face. And to her, it is.  He still feels the place her finger was pressing on his forehead, feels her hand against his cheek, cool to the touch. He’s burning at the touch, so strongly he almost feels the flames licking his fingers the way they used to, green and blue and red and orange. 

He smiles, turning his head slightly to press a kiss into her palm, and then settles more comfortably into his pillow, his hand going under it. “Together,” he agrees, pausing. Thinking about what he was going to say before he said it wasn’t his strong suit. 

“I hate watching you walk around with your guard up all the time, like you’re worried you gotta look for the next threat and protect us all. I hate that. But then— when Teddy told us he killed that guy— I got that. Because I can protect you now, and I just—” Ian stops. “You know?”

[shanehollanderilyarozanov]

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

Dylan rolls her eyes and flashes him a doubtful look. It occurs to her that she’s seen him in all matters of undress before, yet this feels… different. Holding up her hands after watching him remove his shirt and pants, she shimmies out of her own jeans, choosing to leave on her loose shirt. Slipping into the other side, Dylan flips to her stomach, cheek smushed into the pillow as her eyes track him. “She’s not my girl,” her hand shifts out to smack his shoulder lightly. “She’s nice and we’re friends.” But she gets it. Dylan understands. An entire town’s future had been cut short. People knew knew. People she loved. “We do know them,” she answers after a long moment, eyes wandering over his face gently. “But I think… if we start to know other people, too, it won’t be like we’re forgetting Elijah and Sloan and Morgan,” Dylan smiles then, soft, faint, “Morgan had a crush on you, that’s why she was scary.”

“She’s nice, and you’re friends, and that makes her your girl. Just like Teddy and Jack are my boys and you’re my girl. Probably Laura, too. And AJ, but don’t ever tell her that.” He doesn’t feel like smiling, wants to just be angry, feels that restlessness just under his skin, itching to break free. But Dylan’s voice is soft and a reminder that things aren’t all bad and he wants to let that take over. 

It doesn’t. “Morgan had a crush on you,” Ian tells her, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “I think.” Too bad they could never ask her, since she was dead. “I don’t want to meet new people. Suddenly I hate meeting new people. Do you know how many towns have burned down? It’s awful, but I don’t really care that everyone else is going through the same thing. I did, at first. But now it feels like there are just so many people who have gone through these tragedies we all feel numb to it.”

[iantylers]

harperwinston‌:

“I never lie about trampled flowers. I’m a writer. The mono no aware is too much for me.” She sighed. “Sorry, that was pretentious. I mean it’s more beautiful because it ends. It changes, I mean. It’s a Japanese idiom. The cherry blossoms evoke mono no aware, because they’re only in bloom for a few weeks all year.” 

She went quiet for a moment, examining the unintentional resonance. For all the talking she and Kit did about her work, they very rarely discussed death. They didn’t discuss their differences, because they never felt different. Was some of her appeal her ephemera? Was she beautiful because she ended when he could not? 

But then it came crashing back. He may have ended. And even if she refused to believe it, they had stopped. Paused on a precipice. They’d stopped the moment his Sire knocked on the door. Then their world, tenuous as it had been, had fallen, carried by the wind. Oh no Kit. she thought. I’m doing it again. Obfuscation by poetry. 

Come back to me, he’d say. Forget the words for a moment and come back to me. So she did. Like she always did. The sound in square seemed to return all at once. She found her mouth moving before her mind caught up, her gaze returning to the kid with something to hide. “There is an inconvenient amount of cobblestones. It’s like Philadelphia that way. Everything is too damn small.”

“Yeah it was pretentious,” Ian said, shrugging. “You should probably not say that to people in this town, about beauty in endings. It’s hard to think about shit you care about not being around anymore.” It was a heavy thing to say to a stranger, but he didn’t really care. It didn’t strike him that he should care. This wasn’t his town. These weren’t his people, the community that had watched him grow from his first step to his college career.  These weren’t the people viewing him as someone they were thinking about voting for at some point, a young adult community leader who had to try to be kind and genuinely and honorable all the goddamn time, never say a wrong thing, or an unkind word. 

All of those people were dead now. There was no beauty in that. 

“I think I was actually thinking of Philly when I said that,” Ian said, latching on to this new, separate subject, a safer one he didn’t have so many opinions about. It took a single moment for the regret to show up, but either he didn’t say those things or he did and let the guilt pass. He couldn’t say something and feel guilty about hurting her feelings. Why couldn’t he let the woman enjoy cherry blossoms? “I went to school in Texas. Everything there is too damn big.”

[iantylers]

teddyxbeacon‌:

“I’m with Ian,” Jack told Teddy, looking at the girls then back to his friends. “You really need to get better at picking girls, man.” He preferred no-strings-attached, but he had enough girls already. He didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he wasn’t in the mood. This was supposed to be a guys night. Sure, it was a spur of the moment decision, but they were all supposed to be having fun. Somehow they’d all ended up in completely different moods.

If you’d had asked him 3, 4, or 5 years ago, he’d had readily agreed to belligerently go around smashing mailboxes, but now, it just seemed fucked up. Now, he could put himself in someone else’s shoes and he’d be pissed if he woke up to a smashed mailbox. Laura’d also kill him if she found out. Plus, he fucking knew everyone in town and the Wilde’s didn’t have a great reputation as it was, he didn’t need to add even more to that (not that he hadn’t given people enough reason for that growing up).

Jack sighed, “Let’s get the fuck outta here then.” He clapped his hands and wrapped his arms around his friends shoulders. “Lets go boys, I’ve got a better place.” He lead Teddy and Ian out of the bar and onto the street, stumbling on the curb. “I don’t think it’s a bar kinda of night.” Jack laughed, “I never thought I’d say that.”

“Walk with me!” he exclaimed, walking backward with a goofy grin on his face. They were going to have a good night tonight, Jack was determined.

Teddy shrugged and finished the rest of his drink, slamming the now empty bottle back on the table. “Alright, Jack… whatever, take us to this fun new place.” He rolled his eyes at his friend and smiled. “Ian, come on. You’re not going home, don’t be an idiot.” Teddy sighed and patted his friend on the back. “We’re supposed to be having fun, dude. I won’t force you to talk to girls or break mailboxes.” He said. 

“I can’t believe we even came here in the first place.” He chuckled. “I would have been fine just sitting around the apartment, watching hockey and eat popcorn.” He replied. “I mean, I’d still be interested in that.” He said pulling his jacket on and heading for the door. 

@iantylers​

Even though they were doing exactly what he’d wanted to do, aka leave, Ian still felt irritated. He wanted to go home, he’d said, he didn’t wanna smash up fucking mailboxes or hit on girls he didn’t know or care about or have the energy to even try being within 2 feet of. But he was still angry because the home they thought he wanted to go to wasn’t really a place he even considered home yet. Home was a feeling, a mood, a sense of peace that he just didn’t have right now. Something was missing, and the more time he spent around these people, two of a handful that he knew actually, somehow, cared about him now, Ian just felt more lost. Drifting further away from what was. 

It wasn’t Teddy’s fault, but God, what Ian wouldn’t give to just burn something up right now. Even his receipt, or the dual purpose napkin coaster that came with his drink would do. 

Hang on, Ian thought, finally catching up to Teddy’s words. 

You’re not going home. Ah, well, there was his reason to be irritated. “You’re really demanding for a guy that just picked me up off the street, you know, dude? So are we going to Jack’s new fun place or are we going to just hang out and watch hockey because if we’re watching ice hockey, I gotta call Dylan.” 

@jacknwilde​

[ingridbergman-deactivated202001]

[teddyxbeacon]

@iantylers @jacknwilde

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

It’s a joke. She knows it is. And still… Dylan can’t help the pang of sadness that rings through her chest. Instead of replying (she can’t think of anything to say to that) the blonde offers a soft smile, eyes flicking this way and that across his face. The bed dips with his weight, her gaze following him as he lays next to her.

“Might be safe there but there were… too many people.” It reminded her too much of home. Too much of what she’d lost. “I’m small,” she points out with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders. There’s a somberness to them both, a trait that isn’t easily hid. By either of them. Dylan sees it in his eyes most times. It the slight pull of his brows. She sees it now in the softness of his gaze and before she even thinks, her hands shifting out to rest against his cheek, back fingers running through the hair at the base of his neck.

Dylan nods. The young wolf knows that emotional weight. Feels it just about as much as he does, she figures. “If you wanna stay and relax you can. Not like I’m gonna kick you out or anything.”

“You’re not that small,” Ian says. “I can use your shoulder as a pillow, you know?” Never mind that she’s so much shorter than him, or that if he does that, his feet will hang off the edge of the bed. He kicks off his shoes anyway, then strips down to his undershirt and boxers. Shooing Dylan as he stands up, Ian moves to get under the covers. The sheets are cool against his skin, or at least they are in his mind, since he can’t really feel things like that anymore. “Yeah I get that. It feels like Teddy knows too many people, too. I wouldn’t mind it being just us, you know? Kidnapped diner crew, Jack, your girl Laura,” he raises an eyebrow at her. “It’s like this town is just full of people who know everyone else and grew up with everyone else, and it sucks. I don’t want to know them. I want to know Sloan and Elijah and Morgan who worked at the bowling alley a few summers ago? She scared me. Three years younger than me, and she scared me. And instead it’s just... All these fucking people that Teddy knows.” 

[iantylers]

dylcnwright‌:

“I approve of that,” she nods her head to emphasis her point before stepping up to the edge of the bed. He’s different now. Far different than he was back in Nome. Then again, they both are.  Yet even after all that’s happened, all that’s changed, Ian is still (the only) constant in her life.

With the tv raging in the background, Dylan tilts forward and face-plants into the mattress next to him, arms tucked against her sides. The instant her face smushs against her comforter, the tiredness sinks into her bones. Worms its way through her muscles until it reaches her fingertips.

Cheek pressed against the softness, Dylan lets out a weary sigh, feeling herself flatten against the softness. “Not really,” she answers truthfully, eyes shifting up and over to him. “It’s who you are now.” A pause before she grins to him, “Also, blood’s a hellofva lot cheaper than that place up in Anchorage that you jonesed for constantly.”

He doesn’t have to ask her to come closer, she just does, but it is her bed. It’s comfortable, he thinks, since he can’t really feel her weight as she lies down on it. Ian looks at her for a moment. 

She’s right fucking next to him. Holy shit. He’s known this since that day in the middle of the street, the most anticlimactic of reunions, but holy shit, it’s hitting him how much has changed. He hasn’t thought about that coffee shop in Anchorage in at least three months. The last time has to have been his first day in town when he’d wanted a cup of coffee. Jonesing, he’d said to her at the time. 

“Only if you’re not counting the cost to my morality,” Ian jokes, falling back onto her bed right beside her. He puts his right arm behind his head, wondering what to do with his left arm. Instead of what he wants to do, he rolls onto his side instead, facing her. “Are you okay not living with the Greysons anymore? It’s safe there. This place is kinda small.” 

And sad, he thinks. She is so, so sad, and that makes him sad. “Thinking about all of it makes me want to nap. Emotionally.” 

[iantylers]

harperwinston‌:

It was Harper’s job to know when someone had had enough. When they needed a break from a tough interview, when a situation was about to escalate, when you needed to call the guard to open the door. So she was a bit confused when someone was greeting her in a similar state. 

“It is… picturesque, truly. We don’t get flowers like this in Boston. Or, well, we get them, then they’re promptly stomped into the ground by commuters or locked behind 18th century brick walls.”

It was a lovely day, and some part of her was confused by it. In her head, Kit’s Hollow Grove was always shrouded in fog, with dark shapes emerging from the mist, somewhere between monsters and people. But it wasn’t Silent Hill. It looked like every other New England small town with its Cape Cod shutters and little shops so darling that they would appear to be signs of gentrification if they hadn’t always been here. It looked like the sort of place where a murder would shake things up. There went her imagination again. Or was it her fear?

“I’ve only been once,” Ian said. He’d flown to Boston from Austin and then driven the rest of the way to Hollow Grove. He’d had to wait in Boston for his stuff to be delivered, since he couldn’t really tell some totally normal movers about a safe haven for supernaturals. Plus, every dollar of the insurance money he’d saved (his dad’s, mom’s, and, surprisingly, Sloan’s) had given him more time to find a place and a job. “It wasn’t the nicest visit, so I can’t figure out if you’re lying. I always thought Boston was just a lot of cobblestones everywhere? You know. Maybe I just watched too much Liberty’s Kids or something.” 

[iantylers]

maxinesilver‌:

When Max was reading a good book, it was as though she had blinkers on preventing her from being distracted by the outside world. She was invested in the world that the story had woven, her attention focused solely on consuming the words on the page. Which was why she’d failed to notice when Ian had sat down at the counter in the cafe. It was only when he spoke did she realise that her friend, the cute guy that made her heart flutter, was sitting beside her.

“Honestly, I hadn’t really noticed,” Max said with a half smile, placing her bookmark on the page she’d been reading. A rosey glow appeared on her cheeks as she turned to face him. “I’ve been too caught up in Middle-Earth to pay attention to real life.” She turned the pages of her book back to the front cover, revealing the artwork for The Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers. “I’ve watched the movies like fourteen times or something ridiculous like that, but I’ve never read the books. I feel like my nerd card should be revoked,” she let out a nervous chuckle, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Are you doing okay? I feel like I haven’t seen you around a lot lately.”

At some point, he’d have to tell Max to actually, like, go to the doctor or something. She really needed to have her heart checked out. Sometimes it was absolutely calm, sometimes it was thundering on, and he couldn’t find any rhyme or reason to it. “I think you can keep it just because you want it so bad,” Ian said. He’d seen the movies, never read the books. Reading and writing had been his struggles, much preferring visual mediums for stories. He and Sloan had talked through all of their home projects (he’d never call them ‘little’ or ‘casual’ because they’d put in so much work, so much heart, into them, and he’d never minimize the times he’d spent with someone he loved working on the things they’d loved) before filming them. He’d had to read through scripts, but that was easier. 

“Two jobs,” he answered. “Plus fight club. Plus Teddy knows too many people so I feel like we’re always doing things.” Fucking wild that he’d been in town long enough for someone to actually feel like they hadn’t seen him in a while. Did it make him a bad friend to realize, in this moment, that he didn’t pay attention to when he’d seen anyone last if it wasn’t Dylan, or now Teddy and AJ? He had to be better. “Plus, you know, you’ve been reading those tomes. Probably doesn’t leave you with a lot of free time.” 

[iantylers]

valentinxremington‌:

Spring Fling for Valentin was the one for the books-one he was glad that he went to, thanks to threats of annoyance and bodily harm if he didn’t go. He wanted to hide in his house for good, but he was glad that he went. “Hello there,” Val said with a light smile, feeling like he should say ‘how do you do, fellow kids?’ each time he talked to someone younger than him. “It is, very nice,” he agreed with a chuckle.

Maybe this guy was doing the exact same thing Ian was, namely putting in a little bit of effort so he could say he tried and then throw up his hands and go home. How nice would that be?  But he couldn’t really ask the dude that, so Ian just shrugged instead. Was it his turn to come up with a conversation now? 

Damn it. He didn’t really like sitting in silence with strangers— at least Teddy and AJ liked to talk. He’d gotten used to that. “You do anything fun today?” Ian asked awkwardly. “Or like at Spring Fling maybe?”