let's have a go.

jayesh rai. con artist. — why be a king, when you can be god?

[jayrais]

text to jimmy neutron

Kali: I'm not even kidding. I met the cutest doggos today. Pretty sure I called them puppers to the owner's face.

Kali: I lied. I totally called them puppers.

Rai: i hope you know i was genuinely confused because last time i checked, doggo means to lie motionless

Rai: but did you steal them?

Rai: please don't tell me you took them i'm p sure having dogs wont be safe for both of us

[jayrais]

casey-j-williams:

“No, I promise, we will go see Moana, but this weekend, okay, baby? We don’t have time today.” Casey told his eight year old daughter as they walked into the mall. He held tightly to Abby’s hand as looked around the huge building. It had never seemed quite so overwhelming before, with so many people … but then again, he had never had that memory of the overwhelming terror of losing Abby in his mind either. Was it really a memory if it hadn’t happened yet? He wasn’t sure exactly what to call it, only that he was going to do everything possible to make sure it never did happen. 

He held Abby’s hand a little tighter and looked back down the the little girl, “Right, okay. So we need to see if we can find a store that sells microwaves, since somebody decided to make themselves a snack and didn’t put water in the noodles.” he said, giving her a significant look. Honestly, he hadn’t realized an Easy Mac cup could do that much damage either, but he wanted to make sure she knew not to do anything like that again. He couldn’t afford to keep replacing appliances. 

“Sorry, daddy!” the little girl said, looking appropriately guilty for her destruction of the microwave. “I think that store has stuff like that though!” she offered, tugging on her father’s hand while looking back at him and pulling him forward until she bumped into the person in front of her. “Oh!” she exclaimed.

“I am so sorry!” Casey said quickly, pulling Abby back away from the person and crossing his arms protectively over her as he held her in front of him, “She wasn’t paying attention, she didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No, don’t fucking do anything to it, you fuckface,” Rai reprimands, lips curled into a snarl, “I swear to god-- if we’re going to suffer a loss because for your stupidity--” He pauses on his words, listening to the person on the other line try to explain himself. It’s frustrating enough that Rai’s close to flinging his phone to the ground, before realizing that phones are expensive, and that he can’t really buy another one. It seems like he doesn’t even need to throw it himself though, when, not a moment after the urge to do so, he’s bumped into someone-- the impact startling him enough to make him lose his grip on the phone. 

With mild horror, Rai watches as his phone hits the ground face down, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’d be completely ruined. It was an iPhone 4-- he’s pretty sure shock resistance wasn’t a thing back then. Fuck-- he turns to the person to be blamed for the whole thing, and curses almost slip from his lips, before he realizes who bumped against him. He holds back, assessing the situation, seeing that it was a kid who was the cause of it, and while that doesn’t make it any better, Rai knows better than to hit a kid. 

“Nah, don’t worry,” he replies, forcing a smile on his face. Just because it’s a kid doesn’t mean Rai wouldn’t harbor any lingering anger or resentment. This is why he didn’t like children in the first place. He crouches down, picking up his mobile, and holding in a wince when he catches sight of the completely cracked screen. 

“I know-- haha,” he continues, with the most disingenuous laugh he could muster. He doesn’t even bother hiding his frustration-- who would, after having their phone broken? “Kids, right? You’d think they’d be in less accidents with a parent properly watching over them.” He says, tone too bright and chipper. “Well! Your apology is accepted, don’t worry about it. My phone’s going to get magically fixed later on because of it, definitely.” 

[jayrais]

mireyadiazzz:

Her grip tightened, still, around the chair and she watched as her fingers whitened. She looked back at him when his hand touched her arm. Nodding along with his words, reminding herself to breathe, she dropped back in her chair. She didn’t like drinking; this was terrible. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you. I didn’t think you’d tell. It’s just my family keeps telling me to keep quiet about it and I don’t know,” she trailed off. 

“Thanks, you’re too nice,” she said as he handed her the water bottle. She took a few sips as he continued to speak, chastising herself all the while. She’d really spiraled. Here someone was to remind her of everything she believed in-kindness, friends, support. Bad things happened, that was life. But it was no reason to wallow in sadness. If she still believed she’d been given her vision for a reason, to help, then that’s what she should be focused on. If you want good things to happen, make them happen. 

“No, no. I wouldn’t blurt it out. Well, not again, at least,” she admitted, “My mom would kill me.” She’d be sure to conveniently not tell her mother about tonight. “I’m not here to donate but the company I work for is, the Boys and Girls Club. A bunch of us were invited.”

 She glanced down at her lap again before saying, “A few of the kids from there lived in Westlake. They’re all fine though. What about you? I suppose you’re donating,” She paused, trying to recall, “I can’t remember-you have family money, right?”

Rai pulls his hand back once he’s made sure she’s calmed down, not wanting to impose on her personal space. “It’s alright, no offense taken,” he says, slowly, carefully, to show her that there weren’t really hard feelings. “You can’t be blamed, either-- I mean, we’re attending a gala for victims of a hate crime, so it’s a valid enough for you to feel scared.”

He takes a moment or two to just let her breathe, listening to her continue on their conversation. “The Boys and Girls Club?” He asks, if only to distract her from the whole incident. “Is that some type of Girl Scout and Boy Scout rip-off, then?” He nods in pretend-gratefulness when she relays the conditions of the children. Not that it really mattered to him, really. “Were any of them relatives of the victims? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” 

The mere fact that someone actually thought that Rai was from a rich family was both a compliment and an insult. Apparently, he managed to pass off as a rich person-- which, well. It wasn’t news to him, but it was always a good thing to have reassurance, given that his mum would always comment on how he looked like a homeless man. It was insulting though, that she’d consider him as a part of the snobbish part of society. 

“That’s neither here nor there,” he answers, with the vagueness that always accompanied his answers. “It doesn’t really matter what family I’m from, to be honest-- as long as I’ve donated, right?” Technically, paying for the drinks and food and as well as the entrance fee counted as a donation, so he wasn’t exactly lying. “Have you joined the CCS, then?” He crosses his arms, lips twisting into a thoughtful frown, “I’ve heard that it could probably grant you protection of some sorts-- but who knows, really.”

[flintchae-blog]

( REDAMANCY. ) - goddamn, who knew it would take this long for an epiphany?

DREAM by SUZY & BAEKHYUN – 4 REAL by AVRIL LAVIGNE – UNCERTAINLY by OURSELVES THE ELVES – SO NICE SO SMART by KIMYA DAWSON – THE ONLY EXCEPTION by PARAMORE – HOLD MY HEART by SARA BAREILLES – FEELINGS by UP DHARMA DOWN ft. PAUL BUCHNANAN – ALWAYS by PANIC! AT THE DISCO

[pembrcke-blog]

it’s just so hard to see tomorrow past tonight *  forest + rai

[jayrais]

pembrcke:

Forest balked at Rai’s comment, narrowing his eyes in jest. “Drunk Forest is great. Drunk Forest is the life of the party. How many times have you even seen me drunk, anyways? I’m a great time. So much fun.” Even with his protests, Forest still felt hesitant about the whole thing, a ball of tension making itself known in the pit of his stomach. These things, while a fun idea, really weren’t his scene — his or Rai’s. Rai blended in a lot easier than he did, because Rai could blend in anywhere, because Rai had, like, magic voodoo powers, or was just that great or something, and Forest could sometimes cut it. He was nice, polite, a bright kid. All of the parties he’d been to for the church, or for his university, scholarships and things, rich folks treated him like some kind of puppy they were sheltering from the rain for a night. Which was true, he supposed. It still never felt right, though. All of these unsettled feelings, all this anxiety —

Maybe he was just hungry?

The combination of disequilibrium provided by the gala, and Rai’s suggestion reminding him that he’d barely eaten all day (three peanut butter crust-end sandwiches were not enough food to sustain a growing boy) had him leaping at the offer. “You’re right. It’s probably gonna be super expensive stuff, and there isn’t going to be that much of it — you know how they do it at these things, a ton of money for like, a single raw oyster. Stopping for snacks is a great idea.” He followed Rai easily — even if he felt kind of weird in his penguin suit, even if the gala and the reason it was necessary were giving him such anxiety it was almost painful — it was easy to forget, when Rai was like this. Spending time with Rai, regardless of the scenario, was so familiar it felt like home. Forest wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information, so he opted to just follow along.

The stark light of the corner store hit him like a brick wall; it was worlds away from the darkness from outside and he paused, for just a moment, letting his eyes adjust. Something about the time of night made everything feel a little more slow-motion, especially in the winter, when it had already been dark for hours. Rai’s hand was still wrapped around his own, and there was something mesmerizing about his profile in the fluorescent light — Forest would have to draw this moment when he got home. Rai was the only person he knew who could pull off this lighting. He shook the moment off, though, and walked towards the snack section. “Rai, should I get Cup Noodles or the one with the red wrapper? The red one’s more expensive, but it tastes so much better — what do you want to get? I’ll treat tonight.”

“Hell if you are,” Rai says, smoothly stepping beside Forest and taking the red cup noodle himself, “Let’s allow ourselves this moment of indulgence, yeah? But I’m paying. No buts, I’m the working adult here.” With that, he takes two more, balancing them precariously in his hands, before he’s off to take a basket, more as an attempt to escape whatever protests Forest’s bound to say than for actual ease. Rai leaves Forest to whatever it was that he needed, and he focuses on his own needs. He’s well into the back of the convenience store, eyes scanning the shelves for anything useful that he might find the need to have, when something catches his gaze. 

There’s a tiny, but gaudy display of cheap-looking, colourful plastic rings tucked into one barely-noticeable shelf-- Rai wouldn’t have noticed it if his elbow hadn’t knocked off the display right beside it. He takes a moment to right whatever it was that he knocked over, before he focuses on the cheap rings. With a moment of hesitation, he reaches for one, fingers running over the surprisingly smooth texture. It still didn’t excuse the rather comical look of the accessory, what with its bright colours and all. 

Bright, colourful, and attention-grabbing-- huh. Well, doesn’t that remind Rai of someone he knows. Chewing on his lower lip, Rai shoots a look at Forest’s distracted figure, and then glances back down at the ring, clearly in thought. Well-- if anything, it’d make a good prank gift. He grabs one, and before he can think twice, he grabs one of the same colour and design, obviously intending to go for the couple-ring vibe. He hides the rings in his pockets for a while. He was going to pay for it, of course. But he’s intending to make it a surprise gift. “All done?” Rai asks, once he’s made his way back to Forest, basket in hand, “I got...” He glances back down at the half-filled basket, showing Forest a random assortment of items, ranging from random bags of chips, as well as canned soup, to a tub of ice cream. “Well, random shit, honestly, but it’s for the greater good, anyway,” he says this with a playful grin, “You think they’d allow us inside the gala, with all these?” 

[avjogia]

[jayrais]

samantha-holloway:

It had been ages since Sam had gotten in a good run. Yeah, maybe it was late at night and technically dangerous, but she needed a break. This new blackout had her on edge, and she needed to run it out. More Clairs? This was getting more and more bizarre, and the unknown was not something Sam enjoyed. She checked her watch: three miles. I should turn around before it gets too late. Sam came to a quick stop at the water fountain and sipped at the lukewarm water. The only thing in her mind was the news broadcast: there were even more people like her. What was the city going to do? Was this going to become some sort of national emergency? As she turned around, deep in her thoughts, she flinched at the person who had seemingly appeared near her. 

“Jesus, sorry,” she stammered, “I didn’t see you there.”

Rai didn’t exactly have a habit of lurking in the dark, especially late at night. Not when he looked like-- well, police would take one look at him and declare him as a criminal right away, no doubt about it. Not that they’d be off the mark-- but the sort of crimes they’d think he commits would probably be different than what he actually does. But that’s not the point-- he really shouldn’t be out at night, not when people knew he was a Clair, and not when hate crimes were at large. Especially with the latest new. But he was restless, and he didn’t want to disturb his mother, Flint, or Forest-- a walk around what he hopes was a safe area seemed like a good idea, right until he runs into another person. He barely refrains himself from striking out in surprise. “Well--” he says, once he’s made sure that the other wasn’t dangerous, “I’m not exactly Jesus,” he responds, taking a step back. “But thank you for that compliment, I guess,” he gives her a rather charming smile, trying to make sure she’s calmed down enough that she won’t think he was a threat. “What has you out so late at night?” He asks, with a curious tilt of his head, “If you don’t mind me asking, of course. It’d just be interesting to know what a fellow late-night straggler is up to.”

[jayrais]

alaricsummerfield:

Alaric placed a bouquet of flowers down by the Westlake Apartments building, taking a seat on the ground in front of it. The whole fire tragedy happened awhile back, those dead have had their proper funerals. Though he wasn’t really that close to any of them, he did know one of them who always came by the zoo just to see the red pandas. And to think, a familiar face just gone like that; and also a Clair. He wasn’t close enough to have gone for the funeral so he opted to wait out a week or two and while he was walking his dogs, pass by the site of accident. “At least they’re probably in a better place, huh?” He smiled down to his furry companions who laid by his sides, stroking them as he took a while to just sit and think. He kept a low profile on the whole Clairs thing, taking neither sides nor acknowledging his was one of them but it was really getting out of hand. He never joined the CCS or any of the gatherings and somehow the recent events makes it a little bit scarier to do so. It never really occurred to him how much of a nuisance he might’ve been sitting on the sidewalk until someone came up to him. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

He knows better than to pander to his sentiments, especially at a time like this. Hell-- he doesn’t even know the people who died, except that they were like him. Clairs. And that was enough of a reason for them to die, apparently. Being a Clair was a equivalent to committing a crime worthy enough for death. How fucked up was that? Rai lets out a soft huff, tapping the mobile in his pocket, before his lips purse in thought. There’s no use thinking too much over it, at this point. Rai wasn’t going to get all emotional over strangers, MCR music blasting off his earphones or not. He turns away from the building, hands tucked in his coat pockets, only to pause when he catches sight of a familiar-- well, dog. Rai actually registers the dog first than he does the owner, which was an accurate representation of his priorities. “Summerfield,” he greets, once he approaches the seated figure. “Not particularly, no, you can stay there until you rot, for all I care,” he replies, without much heat to his words. The bouquet near Alaric catches his eye, and he finds himself brimming with curiousity, “You knew the victims, I take it?” he asked nodding his head towards the direction of the flowers, “Or are you just here to mope around and look like a bleeding heart while you’re at it?”

[bwboysgallery-deactivated202007]

[jayrais]

mireyadiazzz:

Mireya slipped further back into her chair, leaning her head against her shoulder. She didn’t normally drink, especially not out in public, and it was hitting hard and unpleasantly. Wasn’t alcohol supposed to make you happy? She glanced around the room full of people laughing and dancing and talking. It seemed to be working for them. This wasn’t her. Mireya didn’t begrudge anyone their happiness or a little fun, especially now. Normally, she’d be right there in the midst of it. It was just……….lately it had been very difficult to keep her positive outlook.

All she can think about are the names of the five dead, scrolling across the bottom of the news report. She’s driven past Westlake everyday for years on her way to work. Some of the kids she works with lived there, thankfully, only one of them was injured. She just can’t imagine why someone would want to hurt all those people. What possibly motive could there be for the murder of innocent people? The very thought of it had her chest aching like there was a physical tear to the muscle.

And the other thing, the thing she was very nearly afraid to think of, her blood wet hands, ash in her throat, the clamor of a too busy emergency room, a woman sobbing brokenly. It was coming together slowly in her mind; she could  see now how her vision would happen. It was already in motion.

She shot upright in her seat when she felt someone plop down beside her. “Oh. Hi, Rai.” He had always been nice to her; a bit skittish recently but Mireya thought maybe he just wasn’t much of talker. 

“It’s nothing really. A little too much to drink,” she answered, toying idly with the her napkin. It wasn’t entirely true but she figured alcohol had been blamed for a lot more.

Tearing the napkin in two, mind turning over and over, she turned to Rai and said, “I’m a Clair.” Nevermind, god, she really had had too much to drink.

She’d been so careful to follow her family’s rules-don’t sign up for the CCS and tell no one. Now here she was spilling to a near stranger, no offense to Rai.

She jumped up from her chair, swaying a bit. “That was a joke,” she said weakly, gripping the back of her chair for balance.

Well-- whatever it was that Rai expected to happen tonight definitely wasn’t that. Small talk, maybe. Lending a shoulder to cry on, even (although, he’d have made sure to keep the distaste off his face), but this? “A clair?” he repeats, blinking twice, in slight surprise. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly surprised at the fact that she was a clair. Not because it was obvious-- but because being one himself kind of just took away the thrill of knowing another one. He knows it’s not exactly much of a big deal-- not as much as people make it out to be. Her outright declaration, though-- that was a surprise. All he got was a vision of him living in a new apartment and running out of cereals-- what was so phenomenal about that, anyway?

Even her awkward attempt at brushing away her words did nothing for him-- Rai lies to people for a living, she wasn’t going to fool him with that. Not when she was definitely drunker than he was. He places a placating hand on her arm, trying to muster up some sympathetic smile, as he tries to calm her down. “You’re not exactly convincing anyone,” he says, though not unkindly. “But I’m not going to tell-- you don’t have to worry, honestly,” he adds, soothingly, “Why else would I be in a charity gala for a clair-- if I was a protester of some sort?” That-- was a lie, too. He wasn’t exactly in the gala for charity. Gossip was abound, and he would have been a fool to pass that up. What Mireya doesn’t know won’t hurt her, anyway. 

“Come on-- I feel like you’ll need this,” he passes her his bottle of water, plastering on a kind smile. “Although, I do advise that you don’t just... blurt it out to anyone else so easily,” he says, “Not everyone would’ve been as open-minded as I am, probably,” he points out, leaning back into his chair, in hopes that it’d give her some illusion of more breathing room. Wouldn’t do if she had a panic attack in the middle of their conversation now. “Is that why you’re-- here then? You’ve either been invited and everyone knows you’re a clair, or you’re here to donate.” He was none of the two, actually, but fuck if he admitted to that out loud. “If you need a little more space, we could go hang around outside. Some fresh air would do you a favour, trust me.”

[jayrais]

flintchae:

too many questions, so little time. if he weren’t just paying ( and eating  ) the relatively cheaper food within this little gala, flint would have been tempted not to answer for the sake of keeping his tall, dark and broody persona afloat. but chocolate was here and the night was young, so he gave out his answers fast and snappy, interview style, like their pr department taught him at every magazine shoot that he ever went to. what’s a fun night with a friend, with food, with the threat of more hate crimes hanging over their heads? 

“i’m currently angling for the clair and the bleeding heart demographic,” he tells him with extreme bluntness, eating his chocolate mousse slowly. “plus, my sister wanted to go to another one of these things, and i’m the best big brother around.” his eyes traveled to his sister, currently chatting up and making eyes with another one of her hapless victims—who was perhaps another investment banker, or a trophy husband from the far corners of wherever. one of these days, he was going to have a talk with her about family image and choosing your battles.

at the mention of the clair database, he stopped, a spoonful of mousse still in his mouth. it was true, he could hack the database, probably collect leech every single piece of data he could from them all, social security cards and all, but that was . what was more interesting was the fact that there was a government database dedicated to rounding up the clairvoyants and putting all of their data in one place. it wasn’t so much a safety measure, than a hit list for any aspiring clair haters out there.

“i’m flattered that you think i’ve got tony stark’s genius. i’d have preferred question’s level, but it’s moot, really.” taking another spoonful of mousse, he continued his blasé tone seeping into the conversation, as if none of this actually mattered. ( though, it did. he knew it did. ) “if you want to know my opinion… well, officially, i support the database.” his voice turned low, eyeing a number of reporters on the move for some hot gossip, “though i think it’s just a black book for some lunatic with a rifle to commit first degree murder. but that’s just me, of course.”

alright-- so, rai’s gotten a bit paranoid. flint’s completely evasive way of answering his questions would’ve already set him off on edge, but rai’s very much familiar with this slimy bastard (and well, dozens other slimy bastards who spoke the same way flint did). he does let out a snort, though, at how flint’s answers definitely pandered to the public. god, what an asshole. “well-- that’s very helpful. full of information as always, flint.” upon the mention of flint’s sister, he lets his gaze drift away from his companion and towards the crowd. it doesn’t take too long for him to spot the familiar face-- much like flint, his sister had a way of demanding attention without looking like it. honestly-- rai would hit that, if he wasn’t already trying to hit on the current chae he’s with. “still. i’m impressed-- i kind of want to marry your sister,” he muses. 

"it’s not flattery if it’s true, flint,” he points out, with exasperation. “and at least you’re real-- while tony stark isn’t.” he is a little surprised by the fact that flint supports the whole thing. rai would’ve expected flint to be the first one to speak against it, and as well as its possible dangers. rai was the farthest thing from a tech genius, but he wasn’t stupid. it was an open invitation. he tries to mask his surprise by taking another bite from his tiramisu, but is unable to hide his sudden tenseness at the implication of murder. “you think that, but you’re still supporting the whole cause?” rai asks, “isn’t that a bit-- rude?” perhaps that wasn’t the right word. but what could he say, exactly? saying something along the lines of ‘listen, you know that this could get people killed, yet you still support it-- you’re kind of a dick’ wasn’t much of a choice. rai wouldn’t put it past flint not to deck him.

the thought of death brings his attention to the contents of his phone inbox, and rai’s briefly tempted to share it to flint. he was some sort of tech genius, wasn’t he? perhaps he could track down whoever the fuck was stupid enough to prank him like this, and rai could beat ‘em up finally. but at the same time-- he didn’t want to risk worrying flint (although he highly doubts that flint would-- heartless fuck, honestly), and there’s nothing rai hates more than people worrying about him, as if he was a helpless child. these thoughts brought a troubled expression to his face, and rai quietly stabs his tiramisu, trying to weigh the pros and cons of asking for help. he could frame his phrases, in a way that it seemed like he was talking about his nifty little business. it wasn’t as if flint didn’t know about it. 

sticking with that plan, rai takes one last glance at the people around them, making sure no one’s listening in, before starting, “if someone was receiving death threats-- a clair,” he specifies, to direct suspicion from himself, “you could track ‘em down, right?” he makes an offhand gesture, “i need a bit of a help in that front-- some lady’s been receiving ‘em, and offered to pay me if i could find a way to track them,” he explains, “took her money, and her phone, and told her i’d contact her once i got a chance,” rai lets out a soft snort, for effect, “as if i would actually call her back-- but it is interesting, i was thinking of maybe turning this into a side project, just for the fun of it-- might even be connected to this whole database you so heartily support,” he may have said the last bit with a little more mockery than he intended, but rai can’t find himself to regret it. this whole clair database was a fucking hazard, and now knowing that flint’s supporting it, well. resentment, and all that. “so-- it’s possible, yay or nay?”

[kit-harington]

[jayrais]

christmas bonds. // ft. rai’s mom

the first thing rai notices are the various spools of knitting yarn scattered around the living room floor-- all of different colours and sizes, some already loose and attached to needles. the soft hums coming from his apartment’s kitchen catches his attention next, and rai takes that as the cue to go there first. he sidesteps the mess-- careful not to destroy anything ( he spent a little more than 50 bucks on those, he wasn’t going to be the cause of its destruction ), and when he steps into the kitchen, it’s to the sight of his mother singing softly along with their seven-year old radio, ladle in hand, and the pots and pans bubbling merrily, as if they were singing along with her, too.

he’s barely stepped into the kitchen when his mom catches sight of him, and rai’s treated with a wide smile from her, before he’s quickly being ushered to their age-old dining table. “sit down, jayesh-- you’re just in time-- why do you have so much presents with you? never mind that-- i was just preparing food for tonight-- you’re going to spend your christmas here, right?” she doesn’t even bother waiting for an answer, already pushing him to sit down on a rickety chair, hands swiftly and delicately taking away the bags of presents he forgot he was carrying. she doesn’t even stop for breath, nor give him space to reply, before she’s off again, stowing the presents on one corner of the room, and picking up the ladle once more. 

“well-- seeing as you have so much gifts with you, i highly doubt that you will. but that’s okay-- maybe i can just feed that dear lucas kid down the hall, yes? you can also pack up some of the food i’ve cooked and give it to your friend-- i’m pretty sure you’ll be hanging out with forest again, that poor kid-- did you see the new mittens i left in the living room? i created two pairs-- give them to your friends-- forest could use something to help warm him up-- such a thin boy...” 

dear god-- it’s as if she doesn’t even breathe. 

rai figures that if he doesn’t butt in now, she won’t ever shut up anymore, so he clears his throat, once, and when she doesn’t even stop, he does it again, louder this time. “mama-- relax,” he says, once she’s finally taken the hint, “i’m not going to spend the night here, no,” he answers, finally, and he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes at his mom’s pitiful expression. “don’t do that-- we have all the time in the world, anyway,” it’s not as if he’s moving out soon, anyway. “i’m going back here tomorrow, and then you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of the week,” he adds, just to appease his mom. it seems to have worked, because she puts down whatever it was that she was preparing to come and hug him. tightly. 

jesus christ.

“mama-- you can let go now,” he says (pleads, actually), after a beat has passed, and she hasn’t even let go of him yet. it takes her another moment or two to finally pull away, and when she does, rai can see hints of waterworks coming into play. “it’s just that-- we haven’t really spent time together, you know? mother-son bonding time? your mama isn’t getting any younger, you know.” she lets out a heavy sigh, and rai does roll his eyes then, before yelping when he gets a rather painful swat on his arm. 

“don’t roll your eyes at me, jayesh,” his mother says, tone stern, “it’s true-- i can die any moment now, you should at least an old woman like me,” she huffs, before moving away, mouth twisted in a small frown. “you know what-- alright, leave your old woman to celebrate christmas all alone. but if you come back here to find me as nothing but a lonely corpse, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

she says nothing more after that, immediately going back to cooking, and rai barely holds in the urge to let out a long-suffering groan. “fine,” he says, when it’s clear that she wasn’t going to continue speaking anytime soon, “i’m going to eat with you tonight,” he acquiesces, “but-- i’m not going to stay the whole night with you. i still need to give these gits away, after all.” he wisely ignores the smug expression that forms on his mom’s face.

god. why does rai even bother. he was never going to win any arguments with her ever, anyway. 

[schuylermckenna-archive-blog]

♒

♒: my muse’s reaction to finding your muse bruised and beaten on their doorstep

Schuyler probably could’ve reacted better to the whole situation. “Jesus, Rai, what the hell did you do?” is not a sympathetic response to finding one’s ex on the doorstep, looking like he got hit by a truck.

To be fair, he’s never been a person for Rai to run to.

For being one of the few relationships Sky’s had and would consider a proper relationship, Sky and Rai are, and have always been, very casual. There was never an expectation of monogamy. Their breakup was anti-climactic at best. The only difference from before and now is that Rai sometimes hangs around for the weed and the cats, instead of weed, cats and sex. He’s never been a person Rai’s run to, and he’s only gone to Rai when Rai was the only person convenient.

Which is kind of pathetic, if Sky thinks to hard about it. He chooses not to.

Still, of everyone Rai knows, Sky may be the best-equipped to handle a situation, so to speak. Both a troublemaker and an autodidact by nature, Sky’s pretty familiar with first aid, and has had ample time to use it, on himself and others. He helps Rai inside, arm wrapping around him for support, and tries not to dwell on the familiarity of the action.

Stripping Rai’s shirt off, Sky’s gaze is purely clinical as he looks for wounds that he need immediate attention, or wounds that he can’t deal with alone. A little voice in his head says that they’ve stood like this a million times before, save the bruises and the cuts (or sometimes not). His own voice in his head replies that there’s nothing there anymore, no tug of longing or sense of regret. They’ve settled into ‘just friends’, whatever that means, and it’s kind of like personal growth, because Sky’s never managed to do that before.

Rai’s managed to be his first something.

There’s nothing really wrong with Rai — correction: there are a lot of things wrong with Rai, but none of them are medically relevant. It’s all surface cuts, and if he didn’t look so pathetic, sitting on Sky’s rug leaving dots of blood, groaning like he was run over by a zamboni, slowly, Sky wouldn’t have wasted the bandaids. But he did waste the bandaids, so an entire packages of those and half a bottle of sanitizer later, he sank down next to Rai, handing him a blunt. “I just wasted a shitload of my first aid kit on you, man. You have to tell me what happened. Stickin’ it to the man? Really, Rai, Jesus Christ, you’re comin’ in here lookin’ like me.”

[yarter-deactivated20170523]

“You wore that outfit two days ago”

Motherfucker I’m broke I got three whole fits to my name, aight?

[pembrcke-blog]

it’s just so hard to see tomorrow past tonight *  forest + rai

[jayrais]

pembrcke:

@jayrais

It was very convenient that Rai was already a block away from the gala, ready to go.

It was very convenient, to the point where any reasonable person would question it — like, “Hey, why are you already in a suit? Why are you so close to the event? Did you know I’d agree to go with you? What’s the deal?”. Forest knows Rai well enough not to bother asking. He’d much rather accept it as coincidence, because Rai is a little strange sometimes, and just rolling with it works much better than any other method. Forest has long-accepted that you have to take some people as they come, and he’ll take Rai happily.

He was only a few blocks from where Rai was, so it didn’t take long for Forest to find his friend, lone figure under a streetlight. Walking towards the gala was a little odd for Forest — despite his height, he was used to shrinking away, disappearing into crowds. His face, his clothing, his gait all lent itself to keeping Forest in the background, making him insignificant. In the suit, though, he felt he stuck out like a sore thumb. He never felt at home in clothes like this — even when he was waiting tables, he felt like a fraud, like someone would call him out, say he wasn’t supposed to be there at all. A few heads turned as he walked down the street, and Forest didn’t know what to make of it — which was why he was glad to see Rai. People didn’t look at Rai unless he wanted to be looked at, and when he wanted to be looked at, all eyes were on him, never Forest, and it was better that way.

As soon as he caught sight of Rai, his pace sped up, a determined walk turning into a jog until he caught Rai, arm slinging around his friend’s shoulders, slotting himself into place. “Rai! Hey, I’m here, I got here as fast as I could.” He had, too. A call from Rai was like a call to action for Forest, and he wrangled himself into his monkey suit in five minutes flat, speedwalking to their meeting point. He turns towards Rai, dazzling smile, like a dandelion turns towards a streetlamp, looking for the light. “I’m paying tonight. No ifs, ands or buts. It’s only ten dollars, I can afford it. You can buy me a drink, alright? Good. Deal.”

Rai barely avoids falling over his ass, although he does stumble a little, bracing himself against Forest’s impact. IStill, he falls into Forest’s side easily, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter, as he tries to catch up with the onslaught of words. “Slow down-- you do know breathing is a thing, right?” He holds up his hands, in a show of defeat, “Yes, yes, I get the point,” he says, in a way that makes it sound like he’s doing Forest a huge favour-- which, in some way, it kind of was. He’d rather Forest spend money on useful things, and this gala, as charitable as it is, definitely isn’t useful. Who knows if they’re actually going to charity? PETA’s been fooling people’s ass for years, he’s not going to risk it. “I’m going to think twice about the drinks, though,” he muses, jokingly, as they make their way to the gala, “I don’t think people are ready to deal with a drunk Forest.”

He wasn’t particularly hurrying up on their way to the venue, Rai taking the time to enjoy the night’s breeze-- it was still early, a bit after seven, but the streets weren’t too crowded-- Rai reckoned that most of the population was attending the charity gala. The thought almost makes him groan out loud-- does he really want to schmooze with stuck-up, rich people-- most of whom probably really didn’t care about the Clair community? 

The answer is obviously a no. 

Rai’s lips twist in thought for a while, briefly debating on his decision, before he completely pauses on his steps. “Forest,” he says, tone lilting, “The gala doesn’t end until-- midnight, right?” He asks, although he’s not really hoping for an answer. His gaze flits around the street, before catching sight of a nondescript convenience store tucked in the middle of two other shops. “I’m pretty sure it’s still boring there,” he adds, as he shrugs off Forest’s arm only to take it in his hold, “Come on, let’s grab something non-expensive to eat first.” He doesn’t give Forest much of a choice, really, as he’s already tugging lightly at his arm, directing him towards the convenience store. “Wouldn’t really do to spend huge amount of money on food when you can have them for cheap,” he remarks, “Don’t you think so?” 

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