feel something

Nate Blackwood. 30. Professional black sheep. if brokenness is a work of art  surely this must be my masterpiece.

[veritydedominicis]

CRESCENT HARBOR DYNAMICS → NARITY

She’d always thought that he would taste of ruin, of the burning of Rome, of bloodshed and tears and ribs cracked from the weight of the sobs she’d held inside the first time they had said goodbye. But his lips against hers felt like divinity, felt like worship, raging a fire in the hollows of her bones that momentarily allowed her to forget the fractures that had begun to form on their surface, the numbness that had settled in the cracks as the years had gone by.

[nateblackwoodarchive]

veritydedominicis​:

He was right, of course. She never returned the question, never asked him what he wanted — because she didn’t need to. 

“You want the same thing as the rest of us.” Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid the world would hear, as if she was afraid of hearing it, herself. “To be loved.” 

It was a rare moment of truth, to admit that maybe, she had known him all long. That in all their fights and goodbyes that followed, she knew that what he was really asking for was affirmation, some small admittance that he was wanted, that he meant something. Yet when he continued with his questions, all Verity could do was clench her fists at her sides, nails digging into the skin of her palms until they broke skin, as if the pain would bring clarity when all she wanted was to answer, to tell him that in their endless fights, there was no real winner. 

“No.” 

She stood motionless, allowing his touch but not reacting. “You want me to lie to you so you feel better,” she scoffed, “just like the whiskey you drank tonight. But it’s a momentary distraction, and in the morning you’ll have a headache to show for it. I’m not doing that.” Because I hate you. Because I love you. She stood in the middle of the two extremes, an endless tightrope walk throughout the years in which she often swayed from one side to the next. But the rope that she walked on stayed the same. Because I care about you. 

“You want the same thing as the rest of us — to be loved,” she repeated, “but the love you’re looking isn’t from me. Not really.” 

Verity sighed and took the hand that was against her face in hers, pulling him into her bedroom with a quiet resignation. “You can sleep here tonight. I should still have some of your clothes in the closet.” She paused, suddenly feeling tired, as if the weight of the last few years had finally settled on her shoulders. “I should go catch up on work.”

.

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Verity had never been one to bend to his will and he was sure she wouldn't pick that moment to start. 

When she spoke, it was so quiet that he cocked his head to listen, feeling each word as if it were an iron-gripped hand tightening like a fist around his insides. To be loved. The sentence stole the remaining shreds of his breath, a yearning that ran so deep it mingled with the depths of his soul. Avery's words rattled around in his brain, buzzing like flies he couldn't swat away. No matter how desperately he flailed. In his drunken state, he almost asked if that was what she wanted. If that was what she'd meant when she told him he couldn't give her what she wanted.

Because that was the one thing he wanted to give her. He was just too scared to be left standing alone with his heart in his hands. 

His soft edges hardened again when she told him no. He wasn't sure why he was surprised, the word piercing his skin like a dagger. He wanted to argue-- he wanted her to lie so he could tell her the truth. It was a coward’s game he longed to play, but he didn't care. Bold declarations had been replaced by drunken pleas, his need for her far outweighed by his need to know. If no one else would agree to lie to him, then he was content enough to lie to himself. 

“That's not true,” Nate argued, but the words were weak. She knew better than anyone else what really held him back. She had thrown it in his face mere hours ago. 

He didn't put up a fight as she led him to her room. Fingers running along the hem of his shirt, he made to pull it off, stopping only when she made it clear she didn't intend to join him. That desperation flooded him again, his mind reaching out for her like spindly, clawing fingers, as if willpower alone would keep her from leaving. “Stay. Please.” The words sounded much calmer than he felt, and he took a single step forward. “I know what comes in the morning.” The same thing that always came for them in the end: reality. The sun would rise again and he would slip painstakingly back into his armor, his second skin. This version of him would be lost to her once more. The bravery hidden amongst the cowardice. “Can you just…” His mind changed courses mid-sentence and he stopped, looking at her for a long moment. “Can I ask you a question?” It wasn't a fair question by any means, and knowing Verity, he wouldn't get an answer, anyway. But his conversation with Avery haunted him, her words affixing themselves to the insecurities he carried around like ghosts. But he figured she'd know the answer more than anyone else. Maybe even more than his own father. And if he hadn't been drunk, he'd have known better than to ask it. “What is it about me that's so hard to love?” 

[nateblackwoodarchive]

angel-emmerson​:

“Yeah, probably. I mean I know over in Sunstone they teach you to fake smile and kiss ass but that’s not partying, that’s just business.” Ángel laughed at his comment, drinking about half of his glass of water, pausing before drinking the other half. “No amount of whatever you drink will get you on the level that I’m at right now, homie, it’s all mental,” he told him and tapped the side of his head with a grin. “I’m in the best place I’ve been in a long time. Got a business opening up soon if I can pull it off, my family is nice and healthy, I mean look at my moms over there, fucking rays of sunshine in those dresses and that one,” he pointed over at Brady and Avery who seemed to be ready to get a slightly sleepy Maya out of there. “I haven’t seen her smile that much since the last time she was in California with Avery and they look so fucking cute together. Man, Maya’s such a great kid, such a fucking great kid,” he added, his speech only slightly slurred but he was holding his own. “So I got a lot to be happy about my man, plus I’m an attractive, totally available, single man. It’s a good place to be. The paths I could take are endless,” he added, asking the bartender for another glass of water as he stood up a bit straighter. “Come on man, here’s a challenge for you,” he told him but first pointed at the glass he had handed to Nate, “Drink up. My challenge is that you tell me one thing, uno, one thing that’s made you happy recently. It could be as simple as taking a really good shit,” he told him, pausing to laugh at his own words. “But just give me something to go on here, homie. We gotta find your joy.”

.

Nate snorted. He couldn’t help it. He was so used to the stuffy attitudes of the Sunstone crowd, he’d forgotten there were people that didn’t pull punches. It was refreshing, really, and Nate found himself turning in toward Angel to engage. “Okay, that’s fair. I can’t argue with that.” He watched the other man down his drink with a strange sense of intrigue. He was almost alien to him-- opposite to Nate in nearly every way. It made sense that he was happy, then, didn’t it? His ear caught on the word business and made a mental note to come back to it. If nothing else, he could always talk business. 

Nate’s eyes followed the direction Angel pointed, eyes landing on Avery easily, as if she were a homing beacon. She probably was. He knew the point hadn’t been to linger on Avery, but something in her smile had drawn him in. She’d found happiness-- real happiness. He could see it in the way she carried herself, as if the weight of the world couldn’t touch her now. He was smiling when he said, “The best.” He turned his attention back to Angel, his smile tightening as he was suddenly put on the spot. He hated even more that he couldn’t think of anything. He gritted his teeth together, looking down into his glass, and did his best not to think of the way he’d felt when Avery told him Verity was back in town. Even to someone so far removed from their tangled web, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Even here, it would feel like losing. So instead, he shrugged. “To be fair, this might be the worst week I’ve had all year.” He nodded towards Avery. “But she’s always a silver lining.” It was cheating, but he didn’t care. He pressed on, eager to get past this particular topic of conversation. He took another sip of his water and then tilted his glass in Angel’s direction. “You said you were opening a business, though? What kind?”

[nateblackwoodarchive]

lilywhittaker​:

.

Although Lily was not a dancer by any means, she knew how to carry herself with a partner. She and Nate moved in time with each other, her following his lead and keeping her eyes locked on his although her gaze was soft. He seemed more at ease than she had met him the week prior after the fight with Ryder, and definitely more so than when she’d first gone over to say hello moments before they made it to the dance floor. “I’ll look into including some slower songs in the playlist then, when we plan the next event. I’ll hold you to to the dancing, it’d be your turn to save me one. I’m glad that you’re doing better since the last time we saw each other, happiness… it looks good on you,” she told him earnestly, smiling up at him. 

Lily had always been fond of Nate, even though he’d been Avery’s best friend for the longest while. He was now someone who she admired and believed in, someone who was Lily’s friend outside of his connection to her sister. Pausing and pretending to think, Lily turned to him with a smirk. “I don’t know, I think a server may be in need of my assistance,” she mused, glancing to the kitchen before turning back to Nate. “But I think they’ll be okay for a while more, we both deserve another dance,” she decided, resuming her original position but stepping a bit closer, now more comfortable with slow dancing. “Are you busy this week? We could probably catch up over drinks or lunch,” she suggested as they moved in time to the music. “I can even bring Belle and Bambi if you want some corgi time,” she offered, hoping that it’d be able to lift his overall mood.

.

For the first time that night, Nate found that he was actually enjoying himself. He wasn’t catching Verity’s eye from across the room, wasn’t sitting with the rotten underbelly of his anger and jealousy, wasn’t grappling with his mixed-up feelings. He was just Nate Blackwood, dancing with Lily Whittaker as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He didn’t realize he was smiling until it deepened, curling into a smirk. “I mean, I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I can handle that.” 

His smile fell from his face as she continued speaking, however. Happiness? Was he happy? In this moment, he thought maybe he was. He wasn’t really sure what to do with that, though-- or with the way she was looking at him. Was he reading into her smile? Was he reaching for something he wanted so desperately that he’d find it in everything and anything just for a little taste? Was he trying to block out how badly he wanted to search for Verity’s eyes now-- now that he was the one engaged with someone else, sharing smiles with no ulterior motives? He decided it didn’t matter what the answers to those questions were and tilted his head, looking down at her. “Nah. I think that’s just the angle.” Without releasing his hold on her completely, he stepped back with an exaggerated frown. He stepped in again, his lips pulling into a smile. “See?” 

Her teasing softened his smile and they seemed to fall more into step. She was closer to him now, something his heartbeat seemed to alert him to before his own mind could process. “You happen to be one of the few people I’m never too busy for. Just say when and I will make it work.” He chuckled softly. He hadn’t grown up with animals and didn’t really know what to do with the in-your-face types, but for some reason, Lily’s dogs loved him. And that made him love them back. That was all it took for Nate, really. “And of course the dogs are invited.” When he’d woken up at Lily’s place the morning after his fight with Ryder, they’d both been piled on top of him. That meant they’d officially crossed over into ‘buddy territory’. “Thanks, by the way. For the other night. I know I said it before, but. A lot of bad things happened that night. You were not one of them. So. Thanks.”

[wnq-writers]

A sea of whiskey couldn’t intoxicate me as much as a drop of you

js-parker  (via wnq-writers)

[polo-rodriguez]

[nateblackwoodarchive]

takemetorio-potter​:

Rio raised her eyebrow as he said 2-for-1 special but refrained from commenting, she could tell that he didn’t want to go to much further into it. So instead she just nodded and gave him her signature ‘you know I’m here if you need to talk’ look, the one that she seemed to use on him more than anyone else. While she might have pushed him to talk any other time, right here in the middle of the engagement party seemed less than ideal. His next words caused her to scoff because he totally looked like he was having a good time… not at all. “Mmm well in that case should I have given you the present I brought?” Rio tried to think of the last Crescent Harbor gathering that had gone without incident and couldn’t think of one. Even the carnival had the Ferris wheel stuck. “You know it does beg the question on if we are just predisposed for incidents or if all coastal town are like this.”

.

For as miserable as the night had found Nate, he still cracked a little bit of a smile at Rio’s question. “Only if it’s a blender.” The small smile lingered a moment longer, a silent appreciation of the few people he still had in his corner. Rio had plenty of reasons to avoid him-- beginning and ending with his father-- but she’d stuck around. It was more than he could say for most people. He let out a small breath of a laugh and shook his head. “I lived in New York City for years, I can confirm this is strictly a Crescent Harbor thing. We’re like a real life soap opera.” He took a sip of his drink, cast a glance around the room, and then his gaze settled back on her. “You come here with anyone?”

[tvgods]

[erika-writes]

[nateblackwoodarchive]

@averywhittakerr

[nateblackwoodarchive]

veritydedominicis​:

She merely let him have his piece as she closed the door behind her and walked over to the kitchen, hiding the small smile that threatened to tug the corners of her mouth upwards. There was something quite endearing about a blacked out, rambling Nate Blackwood, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions and melting away the thick armor he usually carried around. So Verity listened without interrupting, finding a glass and some tablets of Advil, because she knew all too well that he would be complaining about a headache in the morning if he simply went to bed. She hated how domestic it felt but couldn’t bring herself to act otherwise — it had become second nature somewhere along the way, caring for the prickly man-child when he acted up. 

It was only at his brief stammering that she paused, her hand clutching the glass a bit too tightly as she waited to see if he would be able to finish his sentence. 

But he didn’t and she sighed, turning to face him, the stoic expression she wore unchanging, even as Nate’s statements became more and more dramatic. She bit back a comment about how he’d been watching too much Gossip Girl, because that was likely to start another long rant she didn’t have the energy or patience to listen to. 

“What I want is for you to take this Advil and finish this glass of water,” she answered, extending the items to him. And then, before he could argue, “Do it or I’ll knock you out and pour it down your throat.” Verity leveled him with a withering look, as if to say, Try me. 

.

Hazel eyes fell to the Advil and water extended in his direction. He wanted to argue simply because it was what they did, but one look at her face and he knew better than to push the subject. Without a word, he threw back the pills and chased them down with a sip of water. He twirled it around in his glass for a moment, his world spinning a little too uncomfortably. 

He looked at her again, his jumbled up mess of feelings sinking like a battleship as she continued to dodge the answer to that question. A rare moment of clarity settled over him and when he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, a quiet retreating. “You never ask what I want.” It wasn't said like an accusation. It was almost detached, as if he were musing aloud to himself. “Are you ever curious?”

He set the glass of water down then and took a few cautious steps toward her. His drunken mind longed to reach out, but the moment felt delicate. His hand, hovering in the space between them, dropped to his side. “Why do we do this? I'm so tired of fighting. And losing.” The weight of those words settled around him and Nate swayed on his feet. He didn't just mean with her. His entire life equated to a swing and a miss and he was exhausted. He took a measured step, everything seeming to blur around the edges. Save for her.

“Lie to me.” He reached out again, his muddled mind seeming to forget the no touch policy he'd just implemented moments before. His fingers brushed the line of her jaw, thumb just barely grazing over her lips. He was pathetic, desperate in his neediness. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Just for tonight.”

[nateblackwoodarchive]

takemetorio-potter​:

Rio had never felt shame for being a girl from the docks but after the boat… incident the fury that Raymond Blackwater had unleased had made her feel like she should be. While now, so many years later she didn’t mind when Nate complained about the shit his dad did, she still occasionally felt the fingers digging into her shoulders with their skeletal like sharpness. Rio winced slightly at his words, “Jamie or your aunt?” Her fingers itched with the want to reach out and turn his face so she could examine the bruises more closely but his words stopped her, “Nate you gotta stop doing this.” What this was she wasn’t sure, she just felt like one day he was going to do something he couldn’t come back from. Sighing softly she focused on his question, “Of course, I’ve never seen Alli so happy. What about you?”

.

Nate let out a humorless laugh. “Both? It was sort of like a 2-for-1 special.” He ran a hand over the back of his head. He didn’t particularly want to recount those little details. For all that he’d faced since the fight with Ryder at the bar, he was still hiding from those. At least he and Jamie had seemed to reach some sort of understanding. He hadn’t yet made an attempt to talk to his aunt. He wasn’t even sure where to start, wasn’t sure he even wanted to. His anger still felt justified, even if his actions didn’t. He gritted his teeth-- you gotta stop doing this. As if he wanted to always be dragging around his turmoil like baggage. He didn’t even have anything to say to that, a simple shrug, a flash of his palms. It was all he had to give. Sighing, he looked into his glass. His mind strayed to Verity, to the way she’d toyed with him all night. He thought of Leslie, the way she’d attacked him with the kind of ferocity he’d always admired but had never had turned on him. “Oh, I’m having a great time,” he deadpanned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this party was thrown for me.” But his self-pity wasn’t fair to Rio and he sighed. “It could be worse. At least no one’s thrown any punches yet. We might very well make it through a Crescent Harbor event without incident. Wouldn’t that be something?”

[angel-emmerson]

"Yo Blackwood, I heard you picked up the mantel for me out here in these streets." Ángel was slightly tipsy and in the best mood he could be, pretty sure this had been the best night he had in a while. "Sorry man, sorry, I know people bringing that shit up is never fun, I've been there. But real talk I'm a little tipsy." He leaned back against the bar after asking the bartender for some water for both of them. "You know it's a party, right? You're supposed to have fun not sit over here looking constipated. Come on you got a cute face, a pretty good body and killer fucking eyebrows, homie. There's a lot to be grateful for here. Like you catching my man Irv on an off day, back in the day he could throw some good rockets." He did the motion of a punch before reaching for his glass of water, handing Nate the second glass. "Hydration is important." @nateblackwood

[nateblackwoodarchive]

Where there had once been silence, Angel suddenly filled the space in its entirety. Even through Nate’s sour mood, he couldn’t help the quirk of his lips, the amusement that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He pointedly ignored the comments about his fight with Ryder-- Leslie and his following conversation with Avery had left a bad taste in his mouth about the whole thing. Instead, he raised his brows, folding his arms across his chest as he decided to indulge. “Shit, man, you mean I’ve been doing parties wrong this whole time?” The humor was dry but he had to admit he was thankful for the interruption, finding it already too hard to linger on the doom and gloom when Angel was force-feeding him sunshine. And handing him glasses of water, apparently. 

He didn’t necessarily appreciate the insinuation that he couldn’t have held his own against Ryder on an “on” day, but he let it slide. There was no use defending something he’d known was wrong in the first place for the sake of his bruised pride. Instead, he nodded towards the glass in his hand. “I think I’d rather have some of whatever you’ve been drinking.”

[thrlv]

Matthew Daddario tho 👌🏻

[nateblackwoodarchive]

veritydedominicis​:

She hated lying to herself. It was a weakness, a form of denial people used when they couldn’t face the reality of who they were. Even if she was the villain in the story, she would rather face it than make herself out to be the hero. Yet, as she sat at her kitchen counter after the engagement party, she couldn’t help but envy those who lived in willful ignorance. Because she knew she was waiting. For him.

Nate Blackwood was nothing if not predictable, and as she watched the clock tick by, she knew there was a high chance he’d show up at her door, wasted and wanting, as he had countless times before. But predictability didn’t always equal accuracy, there was a small voice in the back of her mind that wondered if, maybe this time, he wouldn’t show up. Maybe this time, he would go to another door, end up in another woman’s arms. One without an affinity for bitter insults and anger. Her hands gripped onto the marble counter, knuckles growing white. But then she heard the knocks and the muffled voice that followed.

Verity went to the door, opening it with only a few heartbeats of hesitation — because she didn’t lie to herself, and it was pointless to pretend that there existed a world where she didn’t let him in. “Nathaniel.” Her lips pressed together, unimpressed by the way he slightly swayed. “You really have the alcohol tolerance of a Suburban housewife.” 

.

She wasn’t going to open the door. He knew it as a leaden weight sunk deep in the pit of his stomach, some intuition that told him that this was done. And maybe it was better that way. He shouldn’t have been the one crawling to her door, not after the things she’d said to him, not after the way she’d toyed with him all night just to hurl insults on her way out. He should just leave. Nothing good ever came out of this. His eyes trailed down the hallway, imagining himself leaving without a look back.

But even as the imaged version of himself disappeared around the corner, Nate knew nothing was going to remove him from his spot in front of her door.

When he heard the doorknob, his head snapped back so quickly it made the room spin. He shouldn’t have expected a warmer greeting, but he still frowned. “Yeah? Well, you really have the meanness of a--,” he said, by way of greeting, whatever he’d been planning to say (if anything at all) suddenly lost to him. “You’re fucking mean.” He didn’t wait for an invite as he moved inside, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as if to stave off the beginning of a headache-- a warning sign for the coming hangover. “I know I’m not making it up, I saw you. You made sure I was looking every time you so much as smiled at someone else. You know that I-- that I’m--” He gesticulated wildly with his hands, as if he could mime the words even his whiskey-addled brain couldn’t seem to allow him to say. “Fuck, Verity.” He whirled on her, eyes burning with all the fury and all the desire that could possibly fit in the room. “I want you so bad it fucking consumes me. And I know I shouldn’t, I don’t fucking want to. But you’re in my head. You’re fucking everywhere and I’m losing my mind. You avoid me all night and then you kiss me and then you push me away. So for the love of fucking god, just tell me what you want from me!”

[nateblackwoodarchive]

takemetorio-potter​:

.

It wasn’t hard for her to figure out just who it had been about, she’d seen the fallout from a Raymond Blackwood rage. She was pretty sure that even if the two of them had ever gotten to a point where their relationship had been serious Nate’s father would have made sure it didn’t last long. She may have been living in Sunstone for a few years and her mother may have been a Dekker but she really was just a girl from Hemlock. She’d been seventeen and drowning from her grief and Nate was trouble. The only reason her uncle had accepted Raymond’s money was so that Rio could do whatever she wanted with it. It was still sitting untouched in a bank account. She gave a sigh before taking a step back to lean against the wall, “What did Prince… King? Charming do this time?” 

.

Nate sighed, shaking his head as if to wave away her question. But she was one of the few people that knew firsthand, one of the few that understood just how deeply Raymond Blackwood could cut. “Oh, you know, the usual. And then I took it out on the family. And then I took it out on Ryder.” He smiled wryly and then gestured to his face. “I think I wanted this. And I don’t think it mattered who was on the other side of it.” The words lingered in the air a moment before Nate finally seemed to snap back to reality. “Anyway. Sorry. You enjoying the party?”

[nateblackwoodarchive]

maeveie​:

   Dropping things wasn’t uncommon for Maeve, it happened all the time and she should have seen it coming after having some champagne already that her fingers would slip on the glass, however she fumbled with her hands in the air trying to catch it without success and it fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. Her initial reaction was as always, a loud sigh and closing her eyes with the words Not again screaming in her head. Not a lot of people seemed to have notice it happen though so she was just in the midst of waving people away from stepping on the shards of glass when a familiar face showed up. She laughed mockingly at Nate’s words and scrunched up her nose a little. ❛ I’m fine, I’m good, just… the usual— Don’t step on it,  ❜ she said, warning someone that was getting way too close, even though everyone was wearing shoes. ❛ Thank you. ❜ Maeve laughed a little nervously, sqatting down to help him pick up the pieces of glass into her hands with another sigh. Maybe they could find someone who worked there to sweep up the little pieces. This couldn’t be that rare of a thing to happen. ❛ You having fun so far? Except this, I guess.  ❜  

.

.

“It’s no problem. I’d rather be here, risking glass splinters than over there talking politics with the yentas,” he laughed. He scooped up a few more pieces, opening his mouth to answer her question, a standard, rehearsed yes, of course I’m having a good time on the tip of his tongue when a waiter seemed to suddenly spot them and hurry over. He insisted he’d finish the rest and Nate dropped the pieces he’d gathered on the tray before wiping his hands and stepping over and away from the scattered pieces of glass. He considered her question again. “It’s been... a night,” he said finally. “Believe it or not, this is actually one of the highlights. What about you? Judging by the glass on the floor, I’d say it’s not that bad.” Then again, he’d had more than his fair share to drink for the opposite reason. 

[samaramin]

@nateblackwood​

Sam had taken the suggestions to heart and had finally found a way to pass his time. With a new drink in hand and his eyes roaming to spot any kind of drama, he hadn’t expected to witness something go down between Leslie and Nate of all people. His mouth dropped at the way Nate all but deflated after only sharing a few words with her and he was quick to make his way over after hearing nothing but two rather robust fuck yous from either of them.  “Holy fucking shit, man,” Sam started when he approached his friend, reaching over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know what the hell just happened there but - you look like she told you she’s seen a ghost around here or something,” he said, a sympathetic grin on his lips. “You wanna have another one of these with me?” He asked, wriggling around his almost empty glass.

[nateblackwoodarchive]

Nate was still processing, still reeling from his run-in with Leslie and trying to make sense of it when he saw Sam. He shook his head, possibly in a state of shock-- he supposed that remained to be seen-- and said, “Dude, she just told me she was going to fuck my dad. Which is, I’ve just learned, the single most horrifying thing anyone has ever said to me.” Despite the attempt to make light of the situation, the frustration lingered. He was more than happy to jump at the chance to find the solution to his problems at the bottom of a glass. Downing the rest of the liquid in his own glass, he set it down on the bar behind him. “Anything interesting not involving me happen here yet? I’d like to be on the other side of a story for once.”