california, rest in peace

i'll make it to the moon if i have to crawl, and with the birds i'll share this lonely viewin'

[cosmokramers-deactivated2018091]

[loganashley-blog1]

jagarcia:

It had been a while since Javi had the luxury of feeling his friend’s arms wrapped around his body. A while. Much longer than he would have liked. There were plans to meet up but someone got sick — or was it depressed? — and then there was school and work and a plethora of obstacles, just to keep the two staring at each other through their computers. Or when his wifi was being shitty, their phones. Feeling her arms around him strengthened the smile on his face and he wrapped his around her as well. He accidentally glanced at her phone and nearly rolled his eyes as he chuckled. “I had to get rid of Pokemon Go before I came up here, because I knew I’d just be checking all day to see if I could get a signal. Say goodbye to your battery life, babe.”

He raised his eyebrows, nodding, at her idea. “Solid. Though, don’t know if we’ll have any luck finding any water up here. Hm, did you bring a shovel?” He smirked, the world’s dumbest idea popping into his head. “I haven’t walked around much. Just over to the cooler for a drink and back to my tent. Walk with me?” He was walking before she could answer and he was running his mouth again, soon after. “I want you to know that I finally got my own Mario Kart and I’ve been practicing. Before you get all nervous, which you fucking should be, I don’t think I’m at your level yet. But in due time I’m going to own your ass.”  He shot her a look, letting her know that soon her crown would not be his. “Oh and next trip we’re going go karting and I could really give a fuck who else comes— I mean, the more the merrier obviously but I’m just saying. You bring the shells, I’ll bring the bananas, and we’re fucking out. Talk about lit.”

He moved away from all the Mario talk and back into reality. “So, how’d you wind up getting here? I was gonna take an Uber but my brother came in clutch. One of these days I’ll get myself a license— sorry, back to you.” 

Javi wasn’t the only one who rolled his eyes, or mocked, over her Pokémon Go usage.  He wouldn’t be the last, either. “You’ve got more self control than I do, that’s why.” Bit down a smile when he called her ‘babe’. That was the sort of attention and validation she wanted. Needed—especially lately. “Portable charger, dude!” And Logan pulled the power source out of her back pocket to wave it in his face.

This was refreshing. Made her feel warm, being with Javi. “Don’t question my logic!” She said through a chuckle, before wiggling her fingers. “That’s what these little guys are for. Let’s get diggin’.” She followed him when he started wandering off. “Maybe we could have a water balloon fight—get some shit started. It’s hot enough.” She suggested – anything to compete, y’know? Javi’s suggestion of usurping her at Mario Kart was even better, made her laugh even harder. “Which Mario Kart did you get? What’s your definition of ‘practice’, Javi baby?” His admission of being nowhere near her level of talent had her tipping her baseball cap forward in a sort of curtsy. “You’d be lucky to make top 3 in a Grand Prix match against computers, man.” Logan teased, bumping into his bare shoulders.

Another suggestion, and Logan had to stop them in their tracks. “Dude, you can’t even drive, and you want to challenge me at go karting?” She’d never done that before—with fake shells and bananas. Could they even do that?

“Master Mario Kart first, then go for your license, huh?” Logan motioned him over to her tent. She messed up her suitcase searching for the pair of bikinis she’d packed. Red polka dots, like Toad. “Thank God you got here. I drove up with Ashton and Marcy, and—fuck, it was terrible. I would say it would’ve been better with you there, but I’m sure it would’ve been all the more awkward.”

[loganashley-blog1]

cassandra-rainwater:

Cassie had been able to get her tent set up fairly quickly (all by herself thankyouverymuch). She’d asked Kate to show her how, so they practiced a few times in the open living/dining area of their townhouse. Honestly if it weren’t for her nature-loving fiance, Cassie would have been totally screwed for this trip.

After getting the tent set up, she inflated their air mattress and then threw her and Vanessa’s sleeping bags on top. There was still space for one more person just in case anyone needed it. Although in all honesty the only people she would be comfortable sharing a tent with already had their own. The rest hated her or weren’t speaking to her for one reason or another. What a great weekend this was going to be.

Pulling the latest issue of The Economist out of her backpack, Cassie went out to where the guys had already set up the campfire. She took another beer from Matty’s cooler and settled into the folding chair she’d brought. Sipping at the beer periodically, Cassie mindlessly flipped through the magazine but didn’t actually retain any information. She’d definitely have to read through it again later. Her thoughts were too preoccupied at the moment. Was this a good idea? Would she actually get what she wanted out of this trip? What did she want out of it? Being back with Matty and Vanessa, and even Eamon, was starting to make her think that her priorities might be different than she initially thought.

Her internal monologue was interrupted by a pair of arms snaking around her from behind and her name being shouted in her ear. Cassie recognized the voice instantly and reached up and back to wrap her arms around Logan’s head in the strangest hug she’d ever been part of. She started to answer Logan’s initial question, but didn’t get a chance before more were being asked. With a soft chuckle, she answered them one at a time. “I’ve missed you too, Loogie. I’m doing well. Ready to finally finish school forever. No, I haven’t spoken to either of them yet. I know neither of them like me very much, so I figured I’d give them a bit of space. Or at least wait until I have a bit more liquid courage in me.” She held up the beer and took another sip to emphasize her point. Releasing Logan’s head completely, she turned in her chair to see her friend better. “How are you? Have you spoken to Sam yet? Are you looking forward to whatever’s going to happen this weekend?”

Loogie.

It’d been awhile since she’d heard the nickname. Knew it was her name in Cassie’s phone contacts—had seen the picture, too—but it was strange to hear it cooed out against the mountains. It might’ve been the beer bottle up against the foldout chair. Matty’d packed an entire cooler. (He called her Lo. Strange how much could come out of a name: Logan, for her mother’s high school boyfriend.) It might’ve been the excitement—how long had it been? Since they’d seen each other face to face? Logan couldn’t even keep track of all the exams and tests she failed, now. Shit like this was hard to remember.

Maybe that’s why the slip-up with Sam came from. It was hard to know who hated whom, y’know? Like it was still high school. Logan wanted that. Wanted Sam, and everyone in the one place, always. Wanted Dean back. She wanted to be good at something again.

“Look at you, Cass. Almost graduated and—oh, holy shit, show me the ring—“ Grabbed Cassandra’s hand to find the engagement ring. Cassie had it all together. Logan shouldn’t have been surprised—that was what it had been like that first day, in the bathroom at school.

Logan pulled up a chair. Snatched a beer from the cooler, so they could match. Let the brim of her hat shield the sun from her eyes. “I didn’t know you and Sam had any issues—I thought you two were pals.” Tried to act casual. How hard was it going to be to find out information, here?

“The drive up was terrible. Ashton is a complete and total asshole, I mean—I’m just happy to be out of that car.” Ducked her head, when Sam was brought up again. “Not yet.” Leaned across her chair to clink their beer bottles together, in some sort of solidarity. “Here’s to liquid courage.”

[loganashley-blog1]

eamon-eldridge:

Eamon looked down into Logan’s frightened eyes and over the hand he covered her mouth with.  His breath was heavy and steady as it rolled in and out of his lungs.  She was smaller than he remembered, but anyone would seem small in the grasp of someone they feared.  What did she have to be afraid of?  She was the one who could ruin his trip.

He was about to take back his hand when she shoved him away and he stumbled back.  His heart caught in his throat as he balanced himself, unsettled by the long drop just a few feet behind him.  He could hear his pulse in his ears, thundering like a river as he watched her scramble on the desert floor.  ‘Careful,’ he thought watching from the backseat of his consciousness.  ‘Don’t put your hand in a cactus.’  She eventually steadied herself and glared up at him with wet eyes.

“I broke a promise?” he asked, his face crinkling in confusion.  “You…what do you mean?”  Ever since Logan established herself as a threat, Eamon could hardly imagine there was a time where he considered her a friend.  Those coffee and music filled memories felt more like a TV show he’d watched, but there was a time when he cared about Logan.  She was his friend.  He licked his lips and held out a hand.  “Can we start over?  Like, not…start over start over.  Lets just…call a truce and actually talk about this instead of tearing each other’s heads off.  And can I have the peach o’s back?  They’re for Marcia…I brought tortilla chips, though, if you’re hungry.”

Some of the Peach O’s tumbled out of the packet, when she fell. Eamon steadied himself in time. The cliff’s edge was only a short distance away – like they were an accident waiting to happen. It’d been the threat, right? Logan wasn’t sure if his oblivion was sincere: how could he not know why she was upset? His eyebrows creased with his forehead.

“You promised we’d keep in touch.” She clapped her hands together, brushing until her palms were clean. Eamon offered his hand. There was a scrape on her knee—where the denim thinned out and frayed. Her elbows hurt, too. But she took his hand, anyway, ‘til she was back on her feet and examining the damage. “That’s gonna leave a mark.” She bent over to skim her thumb over the wound. She’d forgotten a first aid kit.

Weight back on her other foot, Logan kept some distance between them. “I don’t know what there is to talk about. Unless you’ve got some bullshit excuse you’d like to dish out? I don’t know, man. I didn’t do anything to you.” Transitions were meant to be slow. Gradual. It went from every morning, to nothing—like stopping medication cold turkey. There were side effects. The bitter taste in Logan’s mouth? That had to be one of them. Scoffed, when he asked for the candy bag back. She tossed it at him without warning. “Yeah, so Marcia gets an apology in the form of sweets, and what do I get? A death threat? This is bullshit.”

[loganashley-blog1]

matty-colt:

Fame. It was a small word, but it swelled and caught in his throat every time he tried to swallow it. Is it what he wanted? He liked the attention, that was for sure. More than liked it. Loved it. Craved it. Needed it. Needed every person he ever met and every stranger on the internet to pat his head and say “Good boy, Matty. Good game. Good picture. Good choices.”

Good person. Worthwhile. Worthy.

But when it came down to it, in this small moment under an endless sky, perched on a thousand year old rock with a beautiful girl smiling a small and uncertain smile up at him, he felt… Free. Despite the circumstances, he couldn’t remember the last time the weight on his shoulders had been so light. He couldn’t remember the last time his phone hadn’t been an endless series of notifications, so overwhelming that even on vibrate the sound was deafening. And he didn’t miss it. He didn’t miss the e-mails from his manager. He didn’t miss the texts from the girls he wasn’t sure he’d ever met. He didn’t miss the snaps from whatever party he was currently missing, faceless pairs of tits with crass captions and six-second clips of guys on the team screaming with their arms around each other. Fame, even his small version of it, was like a cigarette. It didn’t satisfy any craving it hadn’t created itself.

He liked the stage, yes. He loved the applause. But the spotlight was hot and uncomfortable, and it was a blessing to step out of it.

He ran his hands down his face. “I don’t know.” He laughed, different this time. Less relief and more incredulity. He never let himself say these things out loud, too afraid everything would be taken from him before he’d made his own choice. The closest he got were panicked and nearly incoherent phone calls to Marcy in the middle of the night (the sound of blankets shifting as she moved to another room so she wouldn’t wake Ashton, Matty knowing he was disturbing her but not knowing what else to do, who else to turn to). He laughed again. “I don’t know!” Louder this time, a manic tinge to his voice. This isn’t where he’d meant this conversation to go, but he couldn’t lie to her. He’d lied to her enough already. “I don’t know what I want anymore. I’m not sure I ever did.”

But that wasn’t completely true, was it?

He shifted his body a little, turning to face her. Face your fears, Matty. His thumb brushed the back of her jeans in the process. He wondered if she was as aware of his body as he was of hers. There was… something here, wasn’t there? Or was he just seeing what he wanted to see?

“But you know your purpose,” He replied, more plea than statement. He’d always admired her genuine passion, a stark contrast to his patchwork of expectations-turned-goals. “Your, you know,” He made a kind of swimmy motion in the air with his hand, “Your sea dudes. They’re still out there. They need you to go, like, hang out with them …Or whatever.” He smiled, lop-sided, hoping it would make up for his total lack of education on the subject. “That’s what you’re going to school for, right? You’re on the right track. You’re not lost, you’re just… Not quite at your destination yet. Right?”

But even he could hear all the question marks that punctuated his encouragement. That was the price he paid for avoiding her. He couldn’t give her any answers, because he didn’t know the questions in her life anymore. All he could do was listen, and instead he’d stuffed all the words he wanted to hear into her mouth before she could speak. “I mean—” He put a hand (too big) on hers (perfect). It felt right. It felt wrong that it felt right. “I mean, why do you feel lost? You’re so smart. You always knew exactly what you were doing.” But then again, a lot of people said the same about him.

This wasn’t the type of laughter she wanted to hear. Almost manic, with his palms over his eyes, running down past his nose. The type of laughter that echoed; bounced off the cliffs and mountainside. Made Logan shake, even just a little. His mouth was really shiny? Bottom lip something he couldn’t bite down on, it was that big. He was big. She was little. (In every sense of the word.) (Nobody was smaller than Logan, right now.) She felt herself leaning into his shoulder-- needed that support of someone strong, and stable, and Matty felt like home, with his hand stretched out behind her back. 

He had a trail marked out. Just for him.  

She wanted to hold the laughter inside his mouth. Mussed her hair, pressed up against his arm. He was too tall. Logan kept feeling small. “You can have everything you ever wanted, Matty. You’ve just gotta figure it out. That’s all.” Matty shifted, and Logan had to move with him-- head off his arm, chin tilted up. His fingers brushing where her back dipped. And she could feel the heat-- the flush that spread across her skin. Knocked knees, and grazed elbows. It wasn’t an accident. 

They call California the golden state. Matty must’ve been the golden boy-- the way he spent more time than money on winning Logan a prize on the Santa Monica pier. Their hands almost always touching when they walked, ‘cause they walked so close. She tried not to think about it too much, y’know? How she woke up the next morning, thinking about him. Not Sam, not Andrew-- but Matty. How she’d wanted something, when he’d dropped her off at the door of her hotel room. Something more than a plush toy she could cuddle at night. Logan wrote it off as loneliness, at first. But-- look at him-- the way Matty was looking, and talking, with his hands making waves in the air. Her laughter ricocheting off the emptiness, now. Clapping her palm on the leg of his jeans while he made the motion, and tried to talk through a smile. 

You’re on the right track. Logan had completely switched gears. Always had long-term and short-term goals, back in high school. Wanted to--

Wanted to something, but then his palm was covering her knuckles. 

“You really think that much of me?” She asked-- her laughter, like the sunset, fading out. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” Let his hand go so she could cup his cheek. The tip of her nose brushed against his. “And I’m not smart.” Her other hand splayed out against rock, and scraped, pushing her closer to his lap. 

Matty was right: Logan wasn’t lost. Not with his breath, like this, in her mouth. 

[loganashley-blog1]

💕 @sambarnett 💕

She’d been looking out for him all day. Had planned out exactly what she was going to say to him all week. Found herself smiling, for a second, when she rolled out her tent. Thinking about him. Thinking about him like it hadn’t been four years since they’d said goodbye. And it wasn’t even like that-- it wasn’t even a goodbye.

This wasn’t a scar. It was still an open wound.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t know what to say when she saw him.

Logan threw her arms around him, instead. She could say, later, that it was an icebreaker. Nothing selfish about it-- selfless, if anything, to make it easier for the rest of the group. To make it easier for them. And she could feel the sweat against her skin, with her hair on his collarbones. Sam must’ve hiked it here. The tips of his hair were curled, and damp, against his temples. It was different. Wasn’t the same haircut that it was four years ago. How could she expect anything else? Logan pulled back to size him up. Smile. It’d always been easy with Sam. Before Dean had died, everything had been easy, y’know? 

If they could see her now. If Sam knew her now-- Logan didn’t want to think about it. If this was the Scarlet Letter (and she thought back to junior year Lit, with the book wedged under her backside as they ‘studied’ together) Logan would wear a C for cheater. For the type of grades she got now. For the type of company she kept now. 

Logan licked her lips. “You look good. How are you?” Shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket. “I’ve missed you.” She said it quietly, as if saying it soft would keep it from meaning more, or making things loud between them. It did. It did. 

[loganashley-blog1]

jagarcia:

@loganashley

Javier was bringing the tunes, a speaker playing music loudly from inside of his tent whether the others wanted it or not. He was never musically inclined, couldn’t play an instrument or sing to save his — he was a hell of a dancer, but that was another story. Still, music was something that relaxed him. Even a Kesha song. Though he would never admit his love for the singer, it was a very real thing. He had been relaxing in his tent for a few minutes when he heard a familiar voice outside. With a smirk on his face he rose from the comfort of his sleeping bag and searched through his backpack. The sound of pills hitting against the bottle they were confined to reminded him to take them, pulling out a water bottle and the pills to do just that. Once he was finished, he continued the search in his backpack before finding what he was looking for.

He emerged from the tent rather zealously with a completely different outfit from the one he had entered with. Different and less. When he arrived, he was sporting a long sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khaki shorts. Now, after reemerging, Javi looked as if he were ready for a day at the beach. He walked up to Logan, shirtless and with his bathing suit covering his bottom half, putting his hands on his hips to pose. Arm bands were attached to each arm, something he hadn’t worn since he was maybe twelve. “Brought my trunks because fuck the desert,” he said, recalling her latest text to him from the night before. She had been the only one he texted recently, the only one who let know whether he was actually coming or not. “My brother saw me packing these and brought up like three times how he doesn’t think I need them. Finally had to tell him it was for a bit.” He winced uncomfortably, struggling now to pull off the arm. “You should know these took me like ten minutes to get on and I’m pretty sure I lost all circulation in both of my arms just to make you laugh.” 

Once they were finally off and thrown to the ground, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and smiled. “I missed you bud.”

She hadn’t seen everybody yet. Wasn’t sure if they had arrived, or if they weren’t coming, or if they were still on the road. She didn’t know which tent was for which person (or people) (was sure Marcia and Ashton weren’t the only two sharing a tent) besides the couple and Cassie. Stuck in between them (again) (always). People were scattered -- hiking, or beers around the campfire. Someone was playing music from a speaker, muted by the canvas of their tent. Logan was trying the reception on her phone (again) (always) for Pokémon Go. There was a bar, then three, then two, then nothing. Curled up on a rock, with an arm raised. Waving her cellphone around like a maniac. “Yes!” Both arms in the air, now, with a shout of victory. She was tapping, tapping when her favorite face appeared.

Javi, with swim trunks, and inflatable arm floats covering his biceps. They squeaked from the friction when he put his hands on his hips, posing like the superhero he was. “Javi baby!” Logan called out, before bursting into a fit of laughter. “Fuck the desert!” And she pinched the arm band. Wanted to engulf him in a hug, but he was already squeezed tight by the child-size floaties. Logan went up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek instead. It took Javi a moment to pull the inflatable arm bands off. “Do you want help--?” But they were already off, and on the ground. “Just to make me laugh? My hero.” She hugged his bare body. “You’re the best! That was... That was fucking hilarious.” Logan toed at the floats. It wasn’t too long ago that was her in the pool: not knowing how to swim. Javi taught her that. Javi had taught her a lot.

“I missed you so much, dude.” Skype was always different. She didn’t get this kind of content in their interactions over the internet. For one of the first times today, her smile was wide. Genuine. “Just because we can’t swim, doesn’t mean we can’t use our suits. We can go sun-baking-- I mean, not that you need it, but-- we can catch up. See if we can find a place to at least dip our toes into.”

[loganashley-blog1]

matty-colt:

He laughed when she asked if he’d push her, more exhale than anything. More a sigh of relief that they could still joke. He hadn’t been sure. The truth was, he’d be more likely to break her fall with his own gangly body. (He never really used it for anything good, anyway.) The truth was, if she fell, he’d jump after her, just to fit in. (If all your friends jumped off a bridge…) The truth was, he wasn’t talking about jumping at all. Or falling. Not that kind of falling, at least.

I’m great! Nothing’s wrong! Those were the answers that got caught in his throat, so clearly false that they crossed over to comical. Of course he wasn’t okay. None of them were okay. They were here to throw their friend’s bone dust into a canyon, and some part of every one of them honestly thought that might heal something in them. They thought maybe they could go home from this trip a little bit more whole than they left. And maybe they could. But probably not. The truth was, most of them were broken in the same ways they’d been long before Dean haunted them.

So he skipped those questions. He didn’t have the answers. He’d go back to them if there was time, like in a test. He moved on to the one he understood (because he was starting to understand; where those words had come from, what he’d meant by them). 

He was very aware of her elbow on his thigh. Very aware of the hand that he’d so naturally placed on the rock behind her. So close to touching the small of her back. So close to holding her to him. “I am too,” He started carefully, “Afraid of falling, I mean.” He licked his lips, looked out into the ether (he couldn’t meet her eyes right now, she was too close). “But sometimes I feel like there’s this force that’s bigger than me, pulling me. Like I don’t even have a choice.” He forced himself to look down at her, just for a moment. “Do you feel it, too?”

More double meanings.

He had a nice laugh. She hadn’t heard it in a while. 

It was different seeing him on TV, with his teeth exposed and people clapping him on the back. It was different than a photo on Instagram, or Facebook, with his eyes shut and his mouth open. She could save those -- rewind, or screenshot. She couldn’t rewind this. And after a moment it was gone, and Matty was quiet, and she wanted to know what she had to do to get him to make that sound again.

Sometimes saying nothing was an answer. And it had been a stupid question -- with the plan for tomorrow, with the last fragments they had of Dean. Logan wanted to ask more -- how’s your life, Matty? But it didn’t seem to matter. Kept track of him so closely, sometimes, that it was like she saw him everyday. Like she knew everything. Logan knew nothing. Not only about Matty, but... about everything. That was her problem. That was the point of this trip, right? Dean would’ve wanted this for them. Dean wouldn’t have wanted them to be alone. Dean didn’t want to fail, so he quit. Logan was failing, and doing whatever she could to keep herself from stepping off the edge. 

Matty was everything she thought of when she thought success.

So she let the silence slide. Let him stare out into nothing, while she stared at his face. Watched his throat bob. “Pulling you to the brink of fame?” Logan asked, voice soft. “Is that what you want?” There was a choice there. Multiple choices, like a quiz. Logan didn’t have any of the answers-- not this time. Not in a long time. But his chin was tilted down, now, and she decided to smile. No teeth. A half-smile. “To tell you the truth, I... I’m a little lost. I’m just lost. I’m not sure what my purpose is anymore.”

[loganashley-blog1]

eamon-eldridge:

Eamon could remember the first time he stepped into his first Arizona backyard.  There was something cold and uninviting about the prickly cacti and the thin, green trees that spread out from the ground like veins.  There was something vulnerable about being able to see your neighbors from your backyard despite being nearly a mile away.  Still, he felt determined to find something to like about the rocky expanse.  Tentatively, he ventured into the unknown, collecting cool rocks and humming to himself.  That was when he heard it.  The sound of a hundred hot wheels rolling down an incline.  That was when he saw it, curled at the foot of a barrel cactus, watching him like he was prey.

That was how he felt in this moment, looking Logan in the eyes.  Like prey.

He recoiled as she leaned in, slipping the bag of peach o’s from his grasp.  She sat across from him, devouring his peace and jabbing filthy fingers into forgotten wounds.  He felt anger begin to bubble in his stomach and fear crawl up his spine.  She was too close, too abrasive, too…loud.  He lashed out, his instincts spurring him forward like a snake.  His hand pressed hard against her mouth and he leaned in close.  “Watch your volume, okay?” he rasped, suddenly desperate.  “You’re the only one who knows.  I’d like to keep it that way.”

He acted as if it was all Logan’s fault. Logan didn’t break any promises -- coffee and catch-ups, never concluding -- or sell him a shitty car for a huge chunk of cash. Logan didn’t do anything. She sent text messages. She didn’t tell anyone about his job. She kept his promise. 

Eamon said he’d kill her if she told anybody. Now he had his hand over her mouth, and Logan’s breath was wet against his skin. His grip was tight. She tried to shake him off. He wouldn’t hurt her in front of everybody, would he? He wouldn’t hurt her at all, right? Not any more so than he already had. 

“Get off me!” She pushed herself away from his grasp with a forceful arm. Stumbled and fell. Denim scraped against dirt. There was a tear in the fabric over her knees. She hoped her shouting alerted someone-- in case Eamon tried something else. From the ground, with a split in her elbow, Logan tried to scramble away-- even just a little, to create some distance between them. From down here, she had to look up at him. “What are you going to do? Push me off the mountain?” Tears were shining in her eyes. The wound was stinging. “Unlike you, Eamon, I keep my promises.” 

[loganashley-blog1]

ofmarcia:

ashtonbricks:

Life was simple before. His bare feet would scavenge the camp, fingertips brushing the fine leaves of the sporadic trees, and his lips would chap from the dry heat. With a baggy tee, plain as it can be, he was just a carefree kid who had the love and support of his former neighbors. Scarlet, with her chocolate curls, would follow his lead as they navigated the wild nature of Arizona. Online textbooks would attempt to teach them the science behind their backyard, but the siblings found it best to leave their lessons behind to gather their own information. Words would tumble out of their lips as poetic and emotional as it can be, and the numbers would add up along with every rock they would dust. Life was simple before.

The five would gather on the floor as they enjoyed an afternoon snack and a friendly topic. Marcia would lean against his shoulder as his back would be against the wall, the adjacent couple—being Logan and Sam—would intertwine fingers as they spoke, and Scarlet was sprawled across the floor with loose clothing. Those were the simple days when education was fine, friendships were easy, and everyone had a support system. That’s all gone, though. Logan and Sam are no longer together, there is still tension from the time Ashton and Marcia were not together, two individuals have been lost, and there is stress because of their pointed future. Marcia cannot look at Cassie without a sense of betrayal, Logan will struggle to approach Sam, Ashton will barely be able to converse with Javier without a sense of jealousy, and there was so much more on the table. How Ashton has kept his meetings with Eamon secret, how he still feels bitter toward Sam, how he did not help Logan when she needed it, how he can hardly stand to look at Eden for what she did to Scarlet, the awkwardness that will follow when meeting Vanessa again. It’s all going to be a mess.

“Babe, I think that’s an exaggerated though. Do you honestly think that I will let a flock of birds take my girlfriend away?” With a raised brow, he turned his head to glance at the brunette before hazel hues drifted to check the mobile device she had in her vision. There was still a while until they reached the destination, and that only deflated his spirits. Of course there was still a while before they arrived. They just got out of their hometown. This is all for Dean; that’s what he had to keep reminding himself. 

When Logan banged the back of his seat the first time, a groan escaped his lips. Ashton wanted to turn over to make a comment, but, instead, he remained silent in order to avoid conflict that could initiate a bad week. He had to be amicable toward Logan because of Marcia. Because of Marcia, Ashton had to be kind to a lot of people during this trip. “How am I being cruel? I’m only speaking the truth. I want to see these critters because I think it will be interesting to see one. You can be afraid of them, and I respect that, but I’m not.” Taking a swing of Red Bull, it was Logan’s next statement that had him sit up straighter. “How do you think I’ll treat them?” He asked, turning over to look at Logan in the eyes. “You already know that I’m not a huge fan of Sam. I didn’t like him when we were all friends. As for Javi, I’ll treat him as it is.” He shouldn’t be upset with the relationship Javier had with Marcia while the two were separated. Hell, he did a more malice act by having an affair with Vanessa that went on for months. 

Sending a look toward Marcia, he cleared his throat to maintain his composure, and he attempted his best to relax. Eventually, his fingers reached the nob of the radio to switch the station to a more acceptable range of music for them all. “Anyone you two are looking forward to see?” He asked both girls after a minute. 

Marcia was a generally optimistic person. It was one of her favorite qualities about herself; no matter the situation she was in or who she always attempted to be a positive force instead of a negative one. She wholeheartedly believed in karma, that what you put into the world you get back out of it, and she was certain that the reason Ashton came back into her life after their break was because she had some serious good karma with the universe. While she worried a lot (probably more than any healthy human should), she still was always positive things would work themselves out.

Except for when they didn’t, and then people started dying and friendships started ending and phone calls stopped being picked up and people stopped talking to you because maybe people don’t like positivity all the time and maybe they think it’s naive and maybe they want to spend their time with someone more interesting or more edgy or more willing to break the rules.

She took a breath, getting lost in her head was something she feared far more than birds.

“Of course I trust that you won’t let vicious winged creatures come and take me away to their lair, I just worry sometimes,” she said, a soft smile on her face and a loving look in her eyes. This is how she looked at most people.

Logan’s mention of Cassie wiped the smile from her face. “I’d almost rather deal with the snake eating squirrel than have to deal with Cassie for the first time in, like, forever.” She sighed, positivity was hard when you were just trying to look out for yourself. “She hasn’t apologized,” she said, her eyes darting to look at Logan in the rear view mirror. “Did you know that? I called her out on everything, and she still didn’t apologize.” She switched lanes with a shrug of her shoulders. “Everything happens for a reason, right? Well, let’s just say I’m still trying to figure out the reason that Cassie had for being an awful friend, I’ll let you know if I find it.”

“It’s always nice to see Matthew,” she said, her demeanor lightening up at the thought of seeing the people who genuinely cared about her. “And seeing Vanessa will be fun, maybe I can finally get her to see the error of her ways and she’ll stop hanging around with Rainwater.” Her words were directed at Logan now. “As for you, you’ll be able to face your ex-boyfriend, I promise you. And even if you think you can’t, I’ll be here cheering you on every step of the way. You can’t ice him out forever.”

I respect that.

It didn’t sound like it.

They continued being cute. Logan saved her progress and slipped her Nintendo Switch back into her backpack. Dusted her hands of leftover Cheetos. Tossed her pillow into the trunk, so she could sit up straight and proper. It was “my girlfriend” instead of “you” -- and every little thing Ashton was saying, or doing-- the way the sour worms flicked when he pulled them apart with his teeth -- was driving Logan up the wall. 

“Your girlfriend said she wouldn’t be getting any sleep, and that they were the stuff of nightmares. You know where my fear of squirrels comes from, right? Cruel.” Who voluntarily wanted to see a squirrel eat a rattlesnake? Wanted to see a “critter” die? He was a sadist. 

And Marcy was looking at her in the reflection of rearview, again, and talking about Cassie-- but it was all going over Logan’s head. I’m only speaking the truth. She wondered if Ashton had told Marcia, or if he would if Logan snapped at him, now. “Some people don’t apologise. Too much pride, I guess.” She responded, with her eyes on the back of Ashton’s headrest.

Bringing up  Sam was a mistake. Ashton was looking at her head on, now, and Logan was squinting back at him in anger. “Yeah,” she scoffed, “I-- and everybody else, by the way -- know that you're not a fan of Sam’s gigantic house.” Were they ever friends? Logan had been best friends with his sister, Scarlet. Marcia was her next door neighbor. She only knew Ashton through association. She was only friends with him because she had to be. Did you hear the way he said “friends”? But it was like Marcy wasn’t even in the car, with the way Logan started to bite back. 

Who was the squirrel? And who was the rattlesnake?

“A whole lot nicer than a trailer park.”

Marcy was talking about Matty, and V, now-- before she brought up Sam, too. Logan had her arms crossed, and her feet tucked under her seat, and she chose to look out the window and watch the desert blur past them instead of speaking again. 

[televisionsgifs-blog]

[longful]

i want to kiss you and take cute pictures with you and go on stupid dates but I also want tO DESTRYO YOU AT MAR IO KART

[whispersinthestatic]

The tools of the Mario Kart trade. (x)

[julivntorres-deactivated2025040]

[shiny-shock-deactivated20190217]

gets an adrenaline rush from contributing to class discussion

[matty-colt-blog]

@loganashley

The sun was just starting to set, painting the sky a mess of pinks and oranges that bled into the Arizona landscape perfectly. He wasn’t look at the sky, though. It was just backdrop for a small girl sitting with her knees up and her long hair tucked into a baseball cap. Little Lo.

He hadn’t exactly been avoiding her. He’d waved and smiled and greeted her with everyone else. He’d laughed when she made jokes and offered her a drink like he had all of them. He was just… careful about where he placed himself. Never alone with her, never even close enough to lean in and whisper an inside joke in her ear. Safely across a circle of friends, making eye contact with her no more than anyone else. The mental math of it all was, honestly, exhausting.

But they hadn’t talked about it yet, that night at the fair when he couldn’t stop smiling and had allowed himself to touch her a little more than usual. (Fingers looping on the swings, sitting with thighs pressed close, hugging her goodbye a little too long.) They hadn’t talked about their lips almost touching at the top of the Ferris wheel. They’d texted since then, sporadic ‘this made me think of you’s and ‘hows school?’s and, once or twice, a ‘do you remember that time we-? been thinking about it. night lo.’ in the no man’s land between midnight and morning when his resolve was weak and a yellow heart emoji seemed okay. But still, it had been a year, and they’d never mentioned that night.

He couldn’t spend this whole trip dancing around her like she’d done something wrong. He had to at least fake some semblance of normalcy between them. They were friends, right? Nothing wrong with two friends sitting alone and watching the sunset. It would be… fine. That’s what he told himself as he climbed up the little out-cropping of rock she was perched on, long limbs carrying him up without much effort. Part of him appreciated the distance from the group, the illusion of privacy. Most of him was terrified.

He didn’t ask to sit, that felt awkward, like they were strangers. He simply slid down beside her and let his legs hang off the edge. His mind was full of the things he shouldn’t say, all sitting on the tip of his tongue: Are you thinking about Dean? Are you thinking about Sam? Do you think it would hurt Sam if I kissed you? Would it hurt you? Can we try? I miss you. I miss you even when you’re right beside me. He tried to think of something funny to say instead, something breezy and light that would cut the tension of this afternoon. He was good at that with most girls; a little teasing, a little flirtation, a wink and a smile and a light touch. Not with Logan, though. Not now. 

The words were coming out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them, strange and soft and laced with unintentional double-meaning. One second he was staring at his feet, dangling off the edge of a mountain, and the next— “When you’re up high like this, do you ever get scared you’ll just… jump?”

[loganashley-blog1]

Her hands were caked in dirt, from all the climbing. Climbing? Logan was small. She’d gotten a text message from Andrew-- and she couldn’t read it, ‘cause of the cell service. So it was hands high, and waving, and stopping occasionally to check Pokémon Go (because of course, if she couldn’t load a text message, she sure as hell could find PokéStops.) This trip had been a bad idea, okay? The drive was some sort of highway to hell (Ashton put on AC/DC) and seeing everybody was hell (Sam and Eamon and Eden) and being reminded of everything was hell-- it was hell. 

She should’ve stayed in San Diego.  She should’ve stayed with her mouth around her professor.

They were hiking tomorrow. To spread Dean’s ashes. Maybe she could leave after that? Without a ride, it’d be hard. Maybe an Uber would come out this far to pick her up. Someone could drop her off and drive back. Javi? Matty, maybe?

Matty.

He was everywhere. It’d been a year, but he was always around. She couldn’t go on Instagram without seeing him. A like, or a comment, sometimes. Logan would’ve blended in with the other 98,700 followers. He probably didn’t even notice. But he was here, now: long limbs and artfully styled hair. Logan had a Duke Blue Devils beanie in her duffel bag, and the Donkey Kong plush on her pillow. 

They were like two similar scenes: Logan, with her legs dangling over a rock. Logan, with her legs swinging on a Ferris Wheel. The sun so bright, it was making her squint past the shade of her baseball cap. His smile, so wide, that it was hard to see the stars-- even from all the way up there. Even from all the way up here. It must’ve been the nostalgia, y’know? Matty right there, right beside her. Like the Fair. Like high school. 

“You’re not gonna push me off, are you?” They knocked shoulders (Logan’s shoulder, Matty’s arm. Height difference). She peered over the edge, where her legs were dangling over a gorge. It’d be a hard fall. One of those ones where you die before you hit the bottom, probably. And it’s not like she hadn’t thought about it before -- not here, not now, not this --  but she couldn’t tell him that. Was cheating in school, because feeling guilty was better than feeling like a failure. Feeling guilty was better than feeling nothing at all, or being nothing at all. And this wasn’t something she could talk about, or think about, with Dean’s urn sitting in her tent. When they were all only here because he’d jumped off a chair, and swung-- and his rock bottom was with his feet off the ground. 

Logan swallowed. Shook some dirt off her hands by rubbing them on her jeans. “Are you okay?” She was serious, now. Let her elbow rest on his thigh, and angled herself to see past the shadows the sun cast across his face. “What’s wrong?” Some drama back at camp? Was he feeling it, too? How hard this was? Logan let her eyes fall back beneath them, where everything went dark. “I mean... I guess I’m afraid of falling?”

[chipp-skylarkk-deactivated20190]

Eamon’s priorities were set the moment he stumbled out of the back of Matty’s car.  He dug into his backpack, which was mostly full of snacks and treats, looking for something in particular.  He had spotted them next to the sour octopuses.  He knew that he could never make up for his absence, but maybe a pack of peach o’s would be a good start.  He eventually found them somehow buried in the very bottom of his bag underneath an unopened bag of pixi stix.

He had since spent the evening holding them tightly in his fist.  He had seen Marcia but didn’t feel brave enough to approach her, hoping that she would make the first step to making peace.  He knew it wasn’t fair to expect her to move on his behalf, but he had spent so long distancing himself, it felt unnatural to break the silence.  Instead, he wondered around the campsite, trying to look busy doing nothing.  Eventually, he moved all of his belongings into a pile and sat upon his rolled up sleeping bag.  He held the bag of candy in both his hands, staring at it intensely, wondering if he would ever get the nerve or if he had wasted four bucks.  He heard the footsteps of someone coming by and glanced up.

[loganashley-blog1]

He was sitting on his sleeping bag, with his nose in a bag of Peach O’s. The last time she’d seen her friend he’d been sitting up against her locker, one last Latte in hand. A present for her. She wasn’t sure if this was some sort of peace offering. The last time she’d seen him was the dealership, with his fingers looped, and spinning, around her new car keys. This-- this couldn’t be an apology. What sort of apology would that be? A bag of sour candy?

Sour, and Logan moved to kneel in front of him. “What is it? Something about ‘taking candy from a baby?’” Made the quotation marks with one hand; the other scooping out Peach O’s from the bag. She popped a couple in her mouth. “You would know something about that, right?” Sat and crossed her legs. “That car you sold me conked out after three weeks.” Logan pressed her legs to her chest. “What are you even doing here? Did you even know Dean?”