YOU ARE THE REASON
Claire Keane
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
bliss lane
I'd rather be in outer space đž
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đ©” avery cochrane đ©”
if i look back, i am lost
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
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hello vonnie
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Not today Justin
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#extradirty
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@meek-heart
TRUTH: What instruments do you like playing the most?
Jamie tapped a calloused finger against the crook of his elbow. He sighed, thinking of the neglected piano collecting dust in the corner of his living room, and replied, "Guitar, probably."
Memory | Sugarcult
Keeping Up Appearances || Jamie and Connie
Connie was surprised at the farmerâs request. âOne of everything? Do you mean one of each item in a specific flavor? Or one of everything?â She asked wondering if he wanted every flavor of ice cream and juice that she had. She seemed a little worried about how she could carry all of it to him at one time. But she figured that sheâd be able to get him what he asked for one at a time.
She decided to go ahead and start with juice just in case. She walked over to the juicer and looked back at the purple haired farmer. As if looking for clearance to go ahead and get everything started and finished with.
"I said one of everything-- you've got ears, don't you?" He felt a little bad making the poor girl make and carry all that, end he felt even worse because he actually planned on eating all of it. Still, at was for her own good. She'd never get anywhere if she couldn't learn to handle big orders. "You can do it, can't you? A good shop-owner should always be prepared to handle anything, y'know."
Jamie folded his arms over his chest as the girl turned away, and gave her a narrow-eyed nod when she glanced back. He made a mental note of it-- even if she was young, she shouldn't have to await confirmation to run her business.He watched her work with pursed lip, drumming his fingers against the counter and taking a mental note of everything from how hard she pulled the lever on the juice machine to the way she stood on the tips of her toes to reach it. All the while he smirked to himself, thinking that maybe he could make this unexpected visit worthwhile.
Cups (When Iâm Gone), Anna Kendrick (Pitch Perfect Soundtrack)
Keeping Up Appearances || Jamie and Connie
Connie looked up at the purple haired man and greeted him with a smile. âWelcome to Blackwoodâs Sir!â She exclaimed, hoping she was loud enough, but not too loud. âWhat can I do for you today?â She asked, setting up the conversation for a business setting.
This stranger was interesting, especially their outfit. Connie couldnât help but stare at the colorful knitted garment. It was so pretty! It looked really old too, but well taken care of. It mustâve been special.
The farmer gazed down at the child-- though his crystal gaze was harsh, it was not hostile. He blinked at the girl's formal business attitude. She was clearly used to this, and he was undoubtedly impressed. With pursed lips, he glanced again at the menu-- the list sitting on the counter was considerably less vague than the one outside, bust he still didn't know what he wanted. He'd waltzed in here on a whim after all.
After a short while of silent pondering, he pulled his rucksack over his shoulder, set it on the counter and began rummaging through it until he pulled out a black leather wallet. It wasn't very thick-- Jamie didn't believe in carrying too much pocket money around with him-- but he still managed to pull out fair number of gold coins. He tapped his nail against the counter-top and gave a definite reply, "Give me one of everything."
Keeping Up Appearances || Jamie and Connie
It was an odd thing for Jamie to be out of Flowerbud; he always figured that anything he needed, he could either get in town or shipped to him directly. Besides, it was troublesome to travel because he always had to plan ahead for how long he was staying and how much feed he had to leave for his animals on how long to set the irrigation system for-- not to mention, it created a significant drop in profit when he wasn't there to milk the cows or pick the tomatoes. He constantly worried that the next day they would be ripe, and he'd be gone too long and they'd rot in his absence.Â
He'd hope this journey would be worth his while, though considering the town he'd stumbled upon was small in size and lacking in business allure, his hope was quickly dwindling. He was wandering sort of aimlessly, his rucksack slung over one shoulder, when he stumbled upon a small, somehow promising looking shop. He examined the sign outside:
"Blackwood's
Ice Cream
Juice
Eggs"
It was rather vague, and yet he found himself strolling through the front door, his brow furrowed in curiosity. The shop's interior was just as quaint as its exterior, and he found it pleasantly homey. Everything was quite generic, however, except for one thing-- the child standing confidently behind the counter. He approached her, examining the shop as he went, and gazed down at her with a raised brow.
"...Hmph."
Falling over a Cup of Coffee | @Jamie
Claire almost winced as toxic dripped from his very aura and the very essence of his animosity was honed into his harsh motions. Almost was the key word. Tossing insults at her merely bounced off the surface of her mindâor so she wished it to appear. She wasnât indifferent to the matterâno, the wounds dug deep into her skinâ but she could manage the aching without so much as a cringe. For now, at least. But freak wasnât the last of his verbalized enmity.Â
As soon as she dropped the word selfish into the mix, even the dimming light from outside could not save them from the darkness brewing from within. Something atrocious seemed to have boiled from his internal demons and spewed out in the form of spot-on retorts. In that very moment, Claire felt as though he had taken the ground from right under her. It was something akin to someone nicking at a central nerve; Claire was starting to crack from within. She would bolster herself the best she could, but obviously, they had both had enough. From the pit of her stomach rose familiar, irrational scarlet wave of anger that washed over her. She tempered the flames ever so slightly as to keep from being hurt in the recoil, but Claire blasted away.Â
"Iâ What the hell are you going on about? You never asked, sure, but no one ever just askswhen theyâve already buried themselves alive!â Claire lifted both hands near her head and shook them violently, as though he had blown her mind to smithereens with his despicable squabble. âWhat did you want me to do? Leave you to your own devices as you wallowed in your damn God-complex? Ignore you when you were on your knees, in grotesque pain from a mental breakdown? Turn my back on you in the rain on that hazy summer night to drown? I canât belieââÂ
"Never ONCE did I ever give a DAMN about you or your shittyâ your shitty promises." Something, for the first time in ages, made her heart plummet into a cold vacuum. Her blind rage was attenuated with another emotion so despicably familiar. âIâ I canât believe you.â She murmured through the chill that blanketed the church. The rest of her words were lost, as the warm colors of her rosy cheeks drained from her face. He could accuse her of not caring? After all this time, he could still manage to do that? She choked on an overwhelming desire to throw up, yet there was nothing in her system but cold, hard doubt.
She did care. She did do it all for him. Why were his accusations hitting so close to home if she knew she wasnât thinking of herself here. She did care. She did do it all for him. SheâŠÂ did care? She did do it all for him? His words struck a chord within her that she had not realized was there. Or maybe she knew exactly what chord he had struck but she had hidden it away behind so many curtains of denial that she had forgotten it was there. Did she care? Yes, she did; why the hell was she questioning her own motives? Did she do it for him?
âLike you ever actually gave a damn about me.â
âI DID,â her voice boomed throughout the church to answer her own doubts and his accusations.  âIââÂ
Some kind of accomplishment? Was this all she thought this was? Was she squeezing the life out of this âdo gooderâ status in order to gain some self respect? The more he pushed for this stand, the more she seemed to be dancing in limbo. Never once had she ever felt so vulnerable, so naked until she was under his judgmental, crystal glare. His bloodstained hands didnât register until he was almost out the door. I donât need you. I donât trust you. Youâre just like everyone else. He had nailed her right into a coffin. And he walked away as though he was dusting her off his goddess-damned rainbow poncho.
As suffocated as she felt, Claire would have weakly tried to catch up to him, had the storm not stopped him in his tracks. In a godsend (or, would you consider this a devilsend?), he was stuck with her once again, this time under the walls of the Goddess. No one was getting out of here until they faced the truth and nothing but the truth. His back was turned towards her, as he stared out into the howling winds and rampant rain. It was almost like how he was when they first met. And to think, one of the first things that stood out to her was how he seemed different from the rest. She could almost laugh bitterly at this turn of events. How ironic.
She stood by the stairs of the altar, looking off to trace his figure with her eyes. She refused to be afraid of this man who had stripped her pride and confidence down to a sliver. She refused to have him turn away now without understanding her perspective. If she looked away now, if she doubted herself, sheâd lose him in every respect. She had already lost most of it, if not all, in his bout of anger, but she refused to stand down. If she looked away now, if she doubted herself, sheâd lose herself in every respect.Â
"I wonât take that back. I wonât, you know. Youâre selfish and I refuse to rescind the truth. But I do admit⊠I am just as selfish as you are," her steps began to close the distance between them. "Iâm just as selfish. I doubt my motives and force myself into situations I donât belong. I want to believe in change, Jamie, that everyone can change. I want to believe in it so badly.âÂ
"Hell, I canât pretend like Iâm perfect. But I know for a fact that in the moment when Iâm faced with the decision: to help you or leave you beâŠâ
"Itâs you Iâm thinking about."
Claireâs sapphire eyes bore into his back, as she waited for some type of response. âNow you donât need to believe me just yet. Itâs hard to suddenly believe the bastard who seems to doubt herself right and left. But I believe me. I believe that doubt is only human, and when it comes down to it, youâre bound to make the decisions that are the most honest.â
"When it comes down to it, Iâm thinking of you."Â
Jamie stood in front of the doors, one hand draped over the handle, clenching and unclenching the rusty metal ring between his fingers. He glared at his own hand, as if he could set it ablaze just by staring at it. Her words bore into him like knives in the back of his neck-- You're selfish, that's the truth.
Still, her little speech was something unexpected. Unexpected, but it was nothing he didn't know. Had he not made it clear? He knew what a selfish shrew she was. He knew. He knew from the very beginning, and nothing she said to him could change that.... Nothing....
Nothing?
He felt an uneasiness churning his stomach. Was it Claire? No-- he wouldn't let her words conquer him. They were little more than a gentle plea for cessation at the monsoon of his heart, but nature ran wild and free, and there was no human alive that could tame it.
Or so he thought.
There was a tense silence flowing between them, broken only by the ricochet of Claire's voice off the sanctuary walls. He tightened his grip on the door handle, and his back muscles twitched as those words throbbed in his ears. His heart skipped a beat.
It's you I'm thinking about.
It's you I'm thinking about.
It's you.
You.
He released the handle, allowing his bloodied fingers to fall to his side. Through his nose, he took a deep breath, held it, and on a sudden impulse slammed his foot into the great oak doors with a loud grunt. It hurt. In fact, he briefly thought he might've broken a toe or two, bust simply convinced himself it was the adrenaline exaggerating the pain.
Jamie turned around slowly, and took a seat on the far end of the nearest pew bench available. He held his head in his hands, vigorously running his fingers through his disheveled hair as though he might grasp some answers hidden in his lavender locks. However, it was not so, and he spent several long seconds in utter silence before he raised his voice again.
"I can't believe you." it was a low mumbled, muttered tentatively into his palms until he raised his head and stared the blonde square in the eye. "I can't believe you."
He turned away once more, and in that moment he made a resolution to pretend she didn't exist until the rain cleared up. Though, his stomach still churned and there was an ugly tightness in his throat, and in his confusion he began to think that the very notion was impossible.
Claire was impossible to ignore.
I donât love you by My Chemical Romance
 "When you go, would you even turn to say, I donât love you like I did yesterday"
This was it. This is what the stupid dare had come to. She was literally going out of her way to greet someone by the name of "Jamie". The instructions were vague and the description of this person was just as insightful. Spotting a rather colorful poncho clothed stranger she approached them. "Hello, uhm, do you know who a Jamie is around here?"
The sun was high in the afternoon sky, the air was hotter than the fiery depths of Hell, and it wasn't hard to tell that Jamie wasn't exactly in the mood to be approached. Not that he ever was, really, but everything from the heavy way he carried himself to his permanently furrowed brow, he thought, was like a giant DO-NOT-DISTURB sign hanging around his neck. Alas, so many were either completely blind, completely stupid, or both, and there was no escaping it.
He greeted the stranger with a nasty glare that could cut through platinum, only slightly letting up at the sound of his name before narrowing his eyes once again.
He folded his arms over his chest, lips pursed, looking particularly impatient as he spat, "What do you want?"
Epilogue // The Antlers
"But you return to me at night just when I think I may have fallen asleep, your face is up against mine, and Iâm too terrified to speak."
Falling over a Cup of Coffee | @Jamie
"Or," She rose a finger in a blunt rebuttal, "Or, itâs a surefire for me to live a little.â As optimistic as that sounded, Claire knew charisma could only bring her so far. âA little more than you at least.â Did she mean it or was she reassuring herself that time? Goddess, his pessimism really did rain on her parade; it was well founded and, often times or not, it even sounded like a page out of her old books. Yet, there was no way sheâd back down just like that. Itâd just be like turning back the clock and rendering all her change null. SoâŠÂ sure; he could go on avoiding his issues and tossing curveballs all he wanted. But she was going to charge forward, full speed ahead.
Claire didnât know what she expected, honestly. Yet again, heâd turn away, heâd brush her offers off like extraneous specks of dust, heâd put up his wallsâ Okay, perhaps she did know what to expect. But it wasnât getting any less aggravating on her end. He was so⊠what was the word for it? Hard-headed? Sure, he was, but that wasnât what she was looking for. Bitter? Getting closerâŠÂ Selfish? Yeah, maybe that was it. Selfish. He wanted the world in his palms of his hands, but profusely rejected any kind sentiments or helping hands along the way.
I donât need you. Goddess, how that comment made her blood curdle. What about that tender moment back at his place where he was literally in shambles? Did that mean nothing to him? All the times she tried to reach out for him, all the times she tried to tear down his walls- nothing. It didnât mean anything to him. â..Selfish.â She muttered out loud. Curling her fists until they turned marble white, Claire grit her teeth as each word seethed out like poison. "Youâre being selfish."Â
What was the point of opening up to her if he was going to shut right back down again? Telling her of his aspirations- what was his reasoning behind that? Why in the world didnât he just trust her for once? âIâve promised time and time again that Iâll be here for you. And you just wonât have that will you?â Her sapphire irises flickered dangerously in the dim lighting of the church. Â He wasnât letting her in no matter what she tried. Was she approaching this the wrong way? Was she being rash? âYouâve given no damns about the people trying to reach out to you, have you?â
"Why do you pull away?" She didnât flinch as every one of his words pounded nails into her confidence. Not friends. No reason to meddle in his affairs. She just wanted to help, for the Goddessâ sake. Right? The more he dropped anchors of distrust on her shoulders, the more she started wondering about her own motives. No. There was no way anything was wrong with her approach.
"Youâre just being selfish," She accused aloud, grasping for a logical explanation for why he always pulled away. "Hiding yourself behind a cold shoulder when there are people who want to help you. There are people who want to reach out to you." All her words were slipping out all at once, too quickly for her to ascertain how much of it was crossing the line.
"Why wonât you trust me?"
With a contentious scoff, he rolled his eyes. There was no way Jamie could ever understand her mindset; not if he tried to, not if he cared to-- not in ten million years. He found it quite irritating, actually, how eager she was to dive into other peoples' problems like she actually had business being there, like she actually thought her empty encouragements did any good to anybody. Maybe they did, to some poor fool somewhere out there, but they were about as useful to Jamie as a pair of old socks filled with more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. He folded his arms across a chest and sneered, "Freak."
There was venom in his speech, as much nasty, sizzling poison as could fit in a single syllable, in fact, but that was nothing new. And it wasn't nearly enough. He turned away from her yet again, eyes rolling with scorn. Her rose-colored glasses tacky as could be, and it seemed to him like she needed new lenses. He scoffed at the thought, growing ever-weary of her nagging presence. He was quite ready to leave and braced himself to be followed all the way back to the inn, but as he took his first step past the podium, something unexpected slammed against his eardrum. Selfish. The word was unpleasant, like a gelatinous slime being injected into his brain via ear cavity. Jamie's lip twitched, and he spun around on his heel, his left palm cupped over the side of his head as if that grotesque slime would leak through his skull.
"What did you just say--?"
Selfish. He couldn't believe it-- she actually had the gumption to call him selfish. Crystal eyes flashed, first awe-struck, then with the white-hot flames of rage. His nails dug into his palms, so much that he could've sworn he felt the warmth of blood dripping through his fingers. "Just who in the hell do you think you are!?"
The heavy clanking of his stomps echoed through the sanctuary, shaking the very floor they stood on as though he were a titan, and each step he took caused an earthquake devastating enough to take out a small town-- perhaps Mineral Town was the very next target. "Listen carefully, and maybe-- just maybe-- this time it'll get through your thick skull." He stopped short, towering over the blonde, his gaze an icy arrow that hoped to pierce through her very soul. "I didn't ask for any of this."
He was just about ready to pull his own hair out-- and maybe he'd yank on Claire's while he was at it-- but restrained himself, instead pointing a skinny finger in her direction. "Never once did I ask for you to 'reach out' to me. Never once did I ask for your help. And-- guess what-- you're right. Never ONCE did I ever give a DAMN about you or your shitty-- your shitty promises." His voice faltered for just a brief moment, and in that brief moment he couldn't help but wonder just how much truth his words held. After all, she was there for him when he needed someone most and, as annoying as she was, she'd stuck with him this whole time, but....
Wasn't it all fake? He could see it now-- the mystery that hid behind her sapphire eyes was something as pathetic as a lack of self-worth, and... had she been using him this whole time? Had she taken pity on him and used him as fuel for her own self-fulfillment? It was clear in how she stood, how she so valiantly accused him of being selfish when in actuality... it was she who was being selfish. "How... how can you stand there and call me selfish...." His lips tightened into a thin, white line as he ran his fingers through his bangs. "Like you ever actually gave a damn about me."
It hurt. No matter how hard he tried to cut himself off from others, to keep his trust locked away in his shriveled heart, he still couldn't avoid the pain that came with the inevitable disappointment that was humanity's folly. He knew it from the start-- it was stupid to think that Claire was anything special, that she was somehow different from everyone else. She wasn't, he knew, and this was only a reaffirmation of the fact... so why did it hurt?
"You're only standing here, following me around, trying to grab at my trust because you think that helping some asshole realize the error of his ways and sort out his life is some kind of accomplishment, right?" The blood dripped from his knuckles like a flow of tears-- tears that he himself refused to shed. "Well, have I got new for you, you festering pile of cat vomit-- I don't need you. I don't need your help and I'm not some fucking trophy you can squeeze in next to your First Prize horse racing ribbon. Don't you get it?"
He bit his lip. "I won't-- I can't trust you, because you are the most selfish, untrustworthy piece of SCUMon the PLANET--
"And you're just like everyone else."
Jamie wiped his brow with a bloodstained fist, and with a final huff, bolted to the grandiose chapel doors, but as he swung them open with a force that nearly dislocated his shoulders, he found himself trapped, stuck in this constricting place with a person whose face would be too soon returned should he never see it again-- trapped by the rainstorm that raged beyond the walls. Of course, he had half a mind to race off into the typhoon-like weather and make a break back to the inn, but he was brutally aware of the risk; that risk, being so far from home, was not one he was willing to take.
Dumbstruck, he shoved the doors shut and wiped the stray raindrops from his face. He was stuck.
The dust has only just begun to fall, Crop circles in the carpet, sinking, feeling. Spin me âround again and rub my eyes. This canât be happening.
*Sofia approaches the farm, a smile on her face and a rare can in her hand.* /Goodbye/, neighbour! My name is Sofia. I /definitely do not/ have something for you!
Who the hell was this? She was strange looking, like an antique doll with a bad haircut, and had an even stranger way of speaking. Jamie found himself staring, brow furrowed, as he rose from his patch of budding tomatoes. What did she say? Goodbye? He made a face.
"âŠWhâ?"
His contemptuous gaze flickered from the strangerâs face to the crumpled soda can she held in her right hand. No wayâ did she actually plan on giving him that? Or maybe not, given the mind-numbingly irritating words that flew from her fat lips. So she wasn't going to give him a piece of trash, but, what? Wanted to wave it in his face like it was something he should be jealous of? Maybe not? Whatever it was, he didn't get it, but he was sure was agitated to hell and back.
 With a great huff, he folded his arms over his chest and scoffed, loudly and without courtesy.
"Tsk. Are you stupid?"
Hallelujah - Kate Voegele
