a used up bullet casing. @leonadams - Tumblr Blog

— fay-davis ;

WHEN: end of july WHERE: common grounds WITH @leonadams

Fay handed the fellow his coffee, then sat down themselves. “I don’t actually work here,” they suggested. The stranger had given his order, assumed Fay did work there - they were cleaning the counter - and they had simply told him to have a seat and they would be right there with him. “But you’re giving me a good reason to take a break, so I stan you, my friend. Coffee’s on the house. I think… maybe they’ll make me pay for it.”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

leon eyes the coffee placed before him, listening to the words with a new and sudden suspicion. didn’t work here? then why the hell... never mind. “as you should,” he nods, taking a sip of the drink anyway. coffee is coffee and if he’d put anything in it, well. a bridge to cross when he got there.

“stan? the hell does that mean?”

#( threads: fay. )

— yahnaa-padney ;

“Thank you,” she said. Calling her religious thoughts adorable had never happened before, so she couldn’t help the amused smile. Maybe it was adorable. It was also extremely helpful to her. She thanked Allah daily, she was horrid praying like she had when she’d been younger, but she had promised to pick it up again when things had calmed a little more.

“No time is wasted,” she stated. “My company and words might have little effect on you, or who knows, a few days from now, they’ll end up being life changing. You simply cannot say yet. Time’s only a waste if you don’t appreciate all it can change for you.”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

as cruel as it might be, leon didn’t foresee her words doing much for him in the upcoming days. by no fault of her own, of course. it’s just the way he is; choosing to do things by his own book and his own word without any influence from others, if he could help it. safer, he thinks, to follow his own gut. easier, maybe, for when things went wrong. he’d be the only one to blame.

or the only one left to blame himself, anyway.

“do you have family?” he asks, touring the spotlight back to her.

#( threads: yahnaa. )

— sergeantjhart;

— 🐕 —

When he takes a sip of the drink that’s set in front of him he has to wonder who in their right mind would make this a regular thing to experience. Though with a glance around the tavern, it’s possible most people weren’t sipping on the home brew and enjoying the safer option of whatever was still left in the liquor bottles. “Well, I don’t think it’d take too much to make this taste better, honestly -” He murmurs, swirling the liquid in the glass absently, “-but I wouldn’t be against Ray saving the world one glass of beer or liquor at a time if that’s what it comes to.”

He glances up as Leon mentions a kid brother. “Oh? You’ve got a brother? How old?” He asks curiously. He can definitely relate to relying on the happiness of their younger brother as a source of their own.

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“did i say brother?” he asks, a small frown on his face. shit, he’d fallen into that one quickly, hadn’t he? “my bad. bash isn’t... well, actually, he might as well be at this point. but uh, fuck knows how old he is. sorta picked him up on the way out there. or rather, he hasn’t stopped following me around.”

it’s said with a fondness, a smile creeping into his features and while he might give bash shit around town, he’s grateful that he chooses to stay. might be the biggest mistake the kid makes on the daily but, leon’s glad for it.

“he’s a good kid. he’s got a job at the clinic now.” leon shrugs. “whatever that means.”

#( threads: jesse. )

armie-hammer

#( misc. )

— chahid-narayanan ;

leonadams:

leon smacks the boy gently on the back in the direction of the cafe doors with the intention of following him and maybe picking up something nice for himself in an attempt to replace the pain of losing half his coffee to the floor and the bottom of his jeans.

“coffee it is, then.”

end.

#( threads: chahid. )

howifeltabouthim

“His eyes remain fixed on a horizon that is both empty and meaningless.”

— Mark Z. Danielewski, from House of Leaves (via howifeltabouthim)

#( musings. )#( about the man who gave up. )

— fletcherbailey ;

where: outside the hard times tavern when: 24th of july who: @leonadams

He’s not sure when he wandered outside. When it happened, or why for that matter. He’s not wasted, Fletcher knows when he is. He knows when he feels one shot away from black out. He isn’t misbehaving, oh no. Just having a whole lot of fun. A karaoke night is one of the most fun things he’s done in a while.

While he’s leaned up against the wall with a glass of water in hand - he is responsible, thank you very much - there is a passing figure. Not right in front of the tavern though so they didn’t come out of it. Fletch narrows his eyes thoughtfully, then slowly sips on his water. After a beat before the figure ends up too far away, he calls, “Hey! You!” Just about as obnoxious as he can be. To add to the effectiveness of it he whistles.

“Party’s, uh, inside right-” Fletch slaps the wall of the tavern behind him. Yep, it’s still where he left it. “In there. Where ya going?”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

it’s a walk with the debate of tempting the tavern for a drink when so much chaos ensued inside and god, fuck that. he had no interest in becoming the victim of some drunken rambling or terrible dancing and if he had to listen to someone shriek the classics down a microphone, destroying them for the sake of fun... well, he’d rather chop his left ball off and take it to the clinic. so he passes it, aiming for the apartment shared with bash instead with the intention of a quiet stroll and a smoke instead.

until the whistle catches his attention, anyway.

pausing in his step to offer a glance back to see what exactly was being so shrill and annoying with the small concern of something sinister, leon doesn’t expect to see a kid patting the wall like it’d tap some sorta code back.

“to flash my goods on a street corner,” he says with a raised brow. “really make use of this shit show, ya know?”

#( threads: fletcher. )#( event four. )

— bashmoore ;

it was honest. and he expected that from leon. still, the words cut deep into his grieving heart in a way he didn’t know. in a way he didn’t want to learn. unhatch. think about. maybe it was selfish. most people have lost someone they loved by now. hell, sammy wasn’t the first one he lost. but it was hitting the hardest. in a way that was… traumatizing. in a way that was threatening to break who he was. after all, being smiley happy bash was a bit more difficult when his much more annoyed, broody counterpart wasn’t there to balance him out.

still, sebastian was trying to calm himself down. for leon’s sake. maverick’s. hell, for sammy’s. he could practically feel the bang to the back of his hold and voice ringing in his ears ‘to get yourself together’. and he had to get it together. and he had to learn out to live without his brother. it’d be cruel, to leave maverick alone, in any sense of the word. still didn’t change the fact that bash didn’t want to though.

“do you believe that? that there will be an again?”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

it’s a tough question, one that needed an answer that wouldn’t break bash any further than he already felt. because he can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a person so fixed to your side your entire life, then to look in the mirror and see them staring back. and shit, it upset leon sometimes when the kid slept, looking over and forgetting for a moment that sammy was gone. both of his sammys.

how the hell did he get here.

“i... have to,” he begins to answer honestly, rubbing the scruff of his chin as he exhales a puff of smoke away from bash. he taps the cigarette, watching the ash fall to the floor as he begins to consider his words carefully, a feat he isn’t so gifted in, really.

“i’m the last one standin’ from my family, kid. there’s no aunts, no uncles, no nothin’. i’m the last surviving member of my family and if i don’t believe i’ll see them again, then... well. you and i wouldn’t be having this conversation, lets put it that way.”

#( threads: bash. )#( event three. )#( plot three. )

— kaikings ;

truly, kai would hate to give into the shitty classic old-man jokes that leon gives. still, a chuckle manages to slip out that he washes away with his own beer. shitty as it was, kai was just glad there was something to give into his vices. even if it was just a beer or two. “aw. that’s why you’re so grumpy. it all makes sense now,”

“poor fella,”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“i’m not grumpy. who says i’m grumpy? i’ll kill ‘em,” he says with a firmness that didn’t match the amusement shining in his eyes. suppose it wasn’t too bad to have company, after all. especially the kind that would put up with the shit coming out of his mouth, anyway.

“anyway, what’s your name, kiddo? just so i can tell the authorities who to look out for and stuff.”

#( threads: malakai. )

— charliechomsky ;

there’s brows furrowed as the stranger helps himself to getting closer. though, the reason becomes much more apparent and likewise, makes much more sense than just being a fuckin’ creep. there’s a roll of his eyes as charlie isn’t exactly the giving the type. give for the sake of giving and well, you’ll end up empty handed. what exactly did charlie lose by lighting of a simply cigarette when he had no problem wasting the fuel on some wasted art and an itch for arson? not much. but, that was charlie for you. simply being a pain in the ass because he felt like it.

“i can, sure. it’ll cost you one cigarette, though,”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“one cigarette? that’s fuckin’ expensive,” leon sighs. “suppose i can do that, though.” ah, what the hell. kids smoked before they were in the double digits before the world ended and that much he knew for sure. and the kid didn’t look like he’s old enough to know how to put a rubber on, never mind take a puff of a smoke. maybe it’d be entertaining to watch him splutter on it and put a crack in the tough guy persona he had going on for him.

plus, leon really needed a light.

“if you waste this, i’ll beat your ass,” he warns, pulling out the box and offering a very old and very stale cigarette. “like gold now, these.”

#( threads: charlie. )

— yahnaa-padney ;

“Oh, it does, it does make you a huge masochist, if you ever want to better something about yourself, I say tackle that first,” she suggested, grinning through her alcohol-awkwardness. Her alcwardness.

“Speak? No, Allah guides us, not with words, but he shows us what way we must take, he sets things on our path and trusts in us to make the right decision. I saw you here, and I knew the right decision was to offer my service to whatever problem you have,” she said, her voice content, lovingly. Not everyone listened to the guiding force of the universe, some listened to him differently, but Yahnaa liked to believe they were all touched by him.

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

leon snorts. it’s not the first time he’s been advised to tackle his little alcohol problem and he’s sure even with the dead walking, it wouldn’t be the last.

“that’s adorable,” he murmurs, though not with a tone meant for mocking or insulting. nothing terrible, or dismissive. everyone had their right to believe what they wanted, whether he agreed with it or not. “well, thanks for thinking it’s the right choice to waste time with me for a bit.”

#( threads: yahnaa. )

— chahid-narayanan ;

It wasn’t the other’s tone, simply the fact that Chahid felt awkward about not answering the question. They nodded, teeth still crushing together as they thought about what to say next. “That’s…. that’s good. I- I’m going to get a coffee though, I think it might help. Uhm, me.”

Or maybe it wasn’t, and they should drink something else, but Chahid’s mind was on coffee, and their mind was set on trying not to talk about why they felt so out of it. Not these thoughts, they were too much.

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“coffee it is, then.”

#( threads: chahid. )#( we can continue or end this idm i'll leave it to u!! sorry theres not much to work with tho my bad b )

— victorbakker ;

— ⛺️ —

The guy was annoying, that much was for sure, but Vic couldn’t quite decide if it was worth dealing with him. He had yet to get in Vic’s face and thus while he was a bumbling mess about the bar, he hadn’t yet pulled at his last strings.

But there was clearly still time - and as he glanced over his shoulder towards the drunken man he sighed lightly, watching with only partial interest as he seemed to stumble in their general direction.

“He might just need a decent shove and he’ll actually fall over of his own accord.” It was the getting up again bit that was left up for debate. “You think they’ll believe the story?”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“oh, yeah. for sure. look at him,” leon gestures, watching the man get closer and closer and god, just too fucking close. “he wouldn’t pass the breath test to save his life at this point.”

though for all his irritation, he can’t exactly say he’s wanting the guy gone for the purposes of making the bar quieter and a far more pleasant place to be. he’s bored, itching for something better to do, an excuse, even.

“tell you what, you stick your foot out and i’ll push him and that’ll sort it.”

#( threads: victor. )

— southernrays ;

“Trust me, if it turns out alright, we’ll all be testin’ it together.” Ray had big plans if his brew turned out as well as he hoped it would. He was keeping his plans close to his chest for now. He could open the sealed bottles next week and it could be dead awful, that was just how finnicky beer could be. It didn’t seem right to be talking about party planning with the vigil so somber, so Ray kept it all vague.

“If I do need a tester, though, I’ll make sure we crack one open on a night you’re here. Promise.”

( fin. )

#( threads: ray. )#( event three. )#( plot three. )#( felt like a good stoppin point!! )

— jo-davis ;

— 🩺 —

Her head bobs in a nod of acceptance to his words, even if she doesn’t wholly believe them. Everyone had someone in this world. But that hadn’t been the question she’d asked, had it? What she’d asked was if he had anyone out there that he was still wondering about. If there was anyone he cared for that was still a question mark.

His answer could simply mean that no, everyone he’d cared about was accounted for. Dead, or otherwise.

“You never know, maybe it’s possible. Ice cream really isn’t that hard to make, we could probably pull it off. The café probably has all we need to make something simple, anyway. Really all it takes is some cream, sugar, some ice, salt, and a dream. I mean, it would be better with some vanilla…or strawberries, or chocolate, or whatever flavor tickles your fancy, but that’d at least be an ice cream starter kit…” She pauses, thoughtful for a moment before gesturing int he general direction of the café.

“You game? Might be better than all this…I mean, I get it, but also I’m more of a look ahead rather than behind kind of person.”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

ice cream did sound pretty fucking good right now and, anything would be better than listening to any more sniffling and the blowing of noses and the sorrys and all the rest.

and it isn’t out of disrespect, this need to get away from the mourning. it’s that if he’s here any longer he might just give into the thought of doing it too and that, is a big no no on his list of very bad things he’d rather avoid for the rest of this life than do. he could remember his family in the comfort of his solitude with a drink in hand when he felt like giving himself permission to miss them for a while.

but to grieve like this... no. not at all.

“yeah, c’mon. my treat, for helping with my knee and everything.”

#( threads: jo. )#( event three. )#( plot three. )#( up to u if u wanna continue or wrap ready for plot drop )

— calebmajhi ;

🛠️

“To star in one or to be watching one?” Caleb sighs knowing full well he’s the one who walked himself into this conversation. Maybe he should cut it off right there but whatever. He’s curious about what is happening and he’s talkative. And Caleb has a really difficult time handling talkative people without knowing them. But there’s a glint of mischief he can feel radiating from the man. First, the answer is clear and business-focused on Caleb’s task. He’s surprised by it. And Leon admits he’s not too sure himself which yeah, not everyone who started there was a bartender from their past.

Maybe he should go check out the line…

That’s about when Leon continues off from what Caleb laid out for him. Accidental, of course, so he just slowly blinks and turns his head only to look at him. There’s this odd position he is in trying to decipher whether it’s a come on or just fucking around so he stays quiet still. If it’s the first he guesses he can understand the straight forward nature of most people in this town. It’s not like the end of the world offers much time to play coy. He chooses to go focusing on the chance it’s a joke.

“Clinic might have something for that. Magnesium citrate or something, if you are, you know, dealing with being backed up. Not much I can help with there.”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“i mean, whatever tickles your fancy at the end of the day,” leon shrugs, standing straight from leaning on the bar to come to caleb’s side. he looks at the work before him with a mild interest, taking in each piece as if they were a puzzle he needed to put back together inside of his head. a habit, he supposes, carried into this new life of his from his old. and maybe if he wasn’t as bitter and as tired as he is now, he might’ve asked a question or two, made an effort to learn more to keep the knowledge handy for a rainy day.

but he doesn’t. leon doesn’t care for much any more, does he?

“and you tell me you can fix things,” he says, with a tut of his tongue and a grin. “that just makes me sad. anyway, my ass aside, what’re you thinkin’ then? that it’s the pipes? ‘cause i can show you where we keep the caskets and all of that shite.”

#( threads: caleb. )

— finnbrooks ;

📚

Finn scoffs, offended now. “I’m not an accountant - they’re dull. Pressing calculator buttons all day.” Though, as the weight of Leon’s arm loops around his shoulders Finn thinks that maybe, to some, he can be. A history major of all things. It’s not a riveting topic to everyone even if Finn can be enthusiastic about anything from the past. If he suck with photography in his teens he could’ve been more artsy, and Fairvale can breathe a sigh of relief in knowing he’s not going about spray painting any alley walls.

“I’m just saying, those bugs are katydids. I’m not making words up. And then I rolled on into how this place is grossly overpopulated with bugs.” There’s a grimace on his face then and he thinks he’s imagining a phantom bite from a mosquito. “I hate them. I hate most things, but I don’t like waking up to having a staring contest with a fucking camel cricket of all things.” If he sees a roach he might just burn the entire apartment complex down. Make good on his joke that he made to Addison about being an arsonist.

“I’m probably not helping my argument about not being dull by bringing us to the library, huh. You have your chance to escape. I’ve given you fair warning.”

━━━━━━∘◦☹◦∘━━━━━━

“you work in inventory, same thing,” leon grins. he’s teasing of course and it almost feels as he’s just making up for lost time in gently bullying finn for the sake of being a pest. but it’s fun, because finn bites back and that’s something he can appreciate. god, did he dislike people who couldn’t hand out a bit of banter. how boring must one truly be to not be able to joke about how fucking shit everything is.

finn goes on explaining himself and leon just nods and hums in all the right places with furrowed brows as if he’s actually listening to it all and not thinking about how good it would be if he could just lead them to a pizza joint and show finn how he should be thinking about more than bugs.

“nah, i’ll come with you to the library. though if you show me a book on bugs, i’m gonna beat you with it. that’s my fair warnin’.”

#( threads: finn. )#( event three. )#( plot three. )

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

a used up bullet casing.