i bloom just for you;

messy indie rp blog by ana, she/her, cst, 22. multi-muse. semi-selective. est. july 19 2019. // revamped may 20 2020.

[nverletmego]

pinned post!

hi y’all, this is ana. because i’m so low maintenance these days, i’ve consolidated my guidelines & muse list on THIS GOOGLE DOC. on it, i state that i’m pretty selective and kind of private, but don’t be discouraged-- please reach out if you want to write! looking forward to hearing from friends old and new. <3 

last updated: 1/10/21

[nverletmego]

mutuals only starter call~

since it’s been half a year, i’ve deleted all my drafts and just wanna start brand new. like this post for something new for either an existing pair of ours or just something new overall. feel free to leave a reply if you have a specific request!

[nverletmego]

...quietly pops head in**

hi y’all 👀

[jamesvaldez]

I’m so sorry, I didn’t.. I couldn’t stop her.

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

Her words so easily break him; that reserve that he wants to have up so high is tempted to fall down and crumble just so she’ll stop being upset.  Declan has more in him than that, but he can see that she’s trying, that she at least came to apologize.  That’s more than he thought she would do; he had half expected Ford to come and throw a punch or two his way for hurting his sister and his stuff being thrown on the curb.  But instead he’s been sitting pretty at Damien’s, his head and heart both aching but that need to be alone winning out over it all.

He can’t have this discussion here with Damien present though, because it feels like something that should be private.  More or so out of respect for Soleil, and because he doesn’t want his bleeding heart served on a platter.  Damien’s seen him at all different points, but he doesn’t want to be that person anymore.  All this has proven to him is that he needs to be closed off more, to pull back.  He’s been getting too close, breaking his own rules time and time again.

For most that isn’t the answer.  It can’t be.  But Declan’s always been alone.  Up until the point that he met Damien, it was just casual talking and moving as much as he could.  Getting close with Soleil had been a mistake, clear as day.  It doesn’t matter that they had said things in the heat of the moment, either; he’s seen a side of her that he hasn’t before, and he’s not sure he wants to fall for the sweet girl act once more.

Declan’s quiet, but follows her when she opens the door.  He closes it behind them, stepping out onto the porch.  The rain’s died down to a more tolerable drizzle now, ensuring that they aren’t going to get soaked under the safety of the awning.  Jaw is set a little as he tries to work through his thoughts, exhaling carefully through his nose.  “I don’t…think you know what love is, Soleil.  Not that kind of love.  You know what it means when you’re happy and someone’s close to you, but you don’t know what it means to be in that relationship spectrum of love.”

His voice isn’t cold, just resigned as he leans his hip up against the railing.  He doesn’t care about the water that soaks into his side from it; his eyes don’t leave her form.  Declan’s not trying to hurt her, but he’s trying to be honest with her.  He appreciates the fact that she’s trying to apologize and pull herself together, to grow from it.  “Which is fine.  You don’t need to know that, not right now.  But you can’t…go around throwing the word around unless you actually know what it is.”

Tongue swipes out along his bottom lip for a moment, chasing away spots that are a little tender from biting so much.  “I didn’t take advantage of you when you were vulnerable, and I didn’t steal anything from you.  I kissed you.  That was all I did, and you made it clear that you didn’t want the advance so I backed off.  I told you several times to just go to bed.  You were the one who insisted and who said those four letters to me, knowing I would happily give in and give you what you wanted.”  Even if it hadn’t been her intention, he needs her to see how it looks from his point of view.  “And then the next day you were an entirely different person.  You literally blew up because I said I wasn’t going to pierce you because I knew you didn’t know what in the hell you were getting yourself into.  Going to Ashton?  That was a personal blow.”

Teeth lightly follow his tongue before he runs his hands through his hair, breathing out sharply through his nose.  “I’m sorry for the fight and things said.  But I think you need to grow up, Soleil.  I’m not trying to be a dick about this, because I do care about you and want you to be happy.  But what you pulled…I don’t know.  I did what you wanted me to do because you made it seem like you had feelings for me all along, like this was what you really wanted.  Now it just…seems like you wanted something so you could consider yourself an adult and become unhinged.”

Lightly, he reaches out and brushes some hair out of her face, and behind her ear.  “I care about you, a lot.  But did any of it even mean anything to you?  Or did you just tell me you loved me because you knew I would do what you wanted?”

Soleil wasn’t expecting Declan to follow her when she head outside. The rain fell quietly on the ground now, and she thought it was almost too quiet; if only it had been pouring down as angrily as before, it might just wash away all of her guilt and all of the mistakes she’d made and start her anew. But it was gentle this time around, giving her the space to speak with him, almost as a favor now that she was out here without Damien trailing behind her thoughts. She leaned against the front porch railing, too, remaining a good distance away from him, though she’d wanted nothing more than to crash into his arms and call it all done. 

She bit her lip. If anything, this was just validating that she was still a little kid, didn’t know anything about love. Though if what she felt when they were in her bedroom all alone together wasn’t love, then what was it? Foolishness? She refused to believe that what she felt for him that night wasn’t real. When he recounted her attitude at the tattoo parlor, she tore her gaze away from him, looking out at the street as a car whizzed by, tires against small puddles in the potholes on the ground. She glanced back over at him, tears falling down her face again. 

“I didn’t want anything else other than to be yours,” she spoke, voice nearly pleading as she shook her head. “Sure, I get everything I want, but it ain’t like any of that means anything to me... it’s just possessions, material things. But whenever I’m with you, I just want you. I’m sorry I treated you like an object, something I was entitled to, just ‘cause I’m spoiled. I swear I’ll never take you for granted like that again. I’m just-- I’m not used to wanting someone so bad that I really care about, and...” 

She sniffled. “You were gone for two days and it felt like centuries, like you took--” she put her hand over her heart, a Southern belle by nature, “you took a piece’a me with you and I may never get it back.” 

A few moments of silence passed. Soleil looked out at him, closing her eyes to let the tears flow, and reaching up to wipe them away in time. “I’m sorry...” she muttered. Before long, she felt Declan’s hand near her face, and her body began fully vibrating. “Decs, it meant everything to me,” she said, at this point, almost sobbing and unable to pacify herself, “I’m sorry. I’ll do anythin’, I’ll do your laundry without complainin’, cook all our meals, ban Ford from ever visitin’ us ever again-- if it means you’ll just come back home.” 

She wanted to be strong, but every bit about Declan had her feeling weak. Maybe he was right, maybe she didn’t really understand yet what it meant to love and be in love. He was older and wiser than her and she knew tenfold she had a lot to learn. But if there was anyone she’d learn about love from, she’d choose him, time and time again. When they found each other as roommates she never thought she’d get along with him, barred them as too opposite and therefore incompatible. Now, though, she couldn’t imagine not being his friend, not having him in his life. And maybe call her selfish, call her spoiled... but she chased this feeling and wanted to jump right in. If it was love like she knew it was just by the beating of her heart, then so be it. 

[lady-carvenstone]

your face is a blessing.

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

No matter what she did, she knows that Felicity will never forgive her.  What she had done was nothing short of betrayal in their minds, a direct blow to the hierarchy that was their family.  Everyone had one another’s back, no matter how much it might annoy the other.  They had desperately hung onto one another because they were all they had.  When they let someone into their family, it was a serious ordeal; you suddenly had so many more people to worry about, but you also had a support system like no other.  And that’s what Layla had had with Felicity; she had laughed and smiled, drank beers and held her hair back when she threw up.  She’s heard all about her sleazy ex, how she wanted nothing more than to give Ty a family structure, how she wanted to leave and never look back.

She heard about every fight that she had with her brother; Layla was passionate and loved hard, and her and Jesse were fireworks waiting to explode most of the time.  Felicity would calm her down and pet her hand lightly, telling her that her brother would come to his senses and to not worry herself too much about it all.  And Layla would believe her, because every time, her and Jesse had managed to come back together and go to the family dinner once more.  She remembers babysitting Ty, laughing and smiling, feeling like she was a part of something for once.

But what Layla had done would never be forgiven.  She had only done it because she had presumed that it was the right choice.  Foolishly, she had believed that it would get Jesse help, that he wouldn’t have to grieve alone and go off the deep end.  As an added bonus, her charges would be dropped as well; she had thought that it would be the best angle for all of them.  How was she supposed to know that he would get thrown in jail?  It had never been her malicious intent at all, but she knows how it looked to his family.  She remembers the black eye that stayed with her for weeks from Felicity’s punch that night before leaving the department.

Layla also remembers never feeling so horrible than when everything had slowly settled in.

Swallowing hard, she looks at his outstretched hand.  Did Jesse know the extent of his sister’s hatred for her?  Does he know that the real reason she stopped coming around was because Felicity threatened her and told her lying, whoring ass to leave?  Does he know that she didn’t want to come between him and his family even further, so she had left because it had been the right thing to do for him?  She doubts it; Felicity keeps her loose lips shut when it comes to her family  —  Layla may be a snitch, but she isn’t.  That’s been thrown in her face more times than she can count.

Her tongue runs along her teeth; if Felicity seen her again, would the outcome be even worse than it had been when Jesse was in jail?  Layla had been told to stay away from him, even when he got out, but he had sought her out.  There are so many things that she has to apologize for, to his family and to him, even though she’s done so a million times.  Seeing the man you love behind bars because of you wasn’t a shining moment for her, and she feels her hand tremble ever so slightly.  Her other hand comes over it in her lap to stop it, her yes fixated on his hand.

“Jesse, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”  Her voice is quiet; she doesn’t want to let him down because she knows that she longs to be part of his family again.  But how would it even work?  Felicity wouldn’t forgive her, and what happens when he finds a new girl?  What happens to her position then, because she knows she wouldn’t feel comfortable with an ex hanging around.  Guilt pulls tight in her stomach once more; she had managed to push it down for three years since she stopped seeing him, but now it was back and in full bloom.

“I’ll have bullet holes in me sooner than you can say hi.  Felicity…has made it very explicitly clear how she feels about me.  Seeing her again wouldn’t do any good.  All it would do is cause trouble for you.”  Trembling fingers brush hair behind her ear then, her eyes evading his.  It’s not often that Layla goes quiet and inside of her own mind, but the memories of Felicity are starting to come up tenfold, and with it, her hatred for herself for what she had one to him.

He was initially shocked that Layla hadn’t agreed to his proposition. Jesse had never known the brunette across from him to turn down a dare, though he’d figured their last few years without each other made her play things a little more on the safe side. And that was for the better. God knows just how bad of an influence he was on the poor girl, especially when they were younger and she was more impressionable. He still couldn’t help but rattle her on some more, though, a bit confused as to why she was so avoidant of his older sister. 

After all, he thought they’d gotten along. He remembered when the four of them would go out to the club, him and Tom and her and Felicity, and party and eat good food and get wasted. Felicity and Layla were a bit closer than Jesse was comfortable with, but only because he was never sure what those two giggled about whenever they were alone. Those good times out at the club were just moved home whenever Felicity had Ty, and just as expected, Auntie Layla was there basically coddling the infant. 

And so it was strange, now, to think that Felicity and Layla were so contentious. He knew it was about him going to jail-- Felicity wasn’t happy at all to hear that her younger brother had been ratted out by her best friend-- but he also could read the two easily and knew that deep down, they still wanted to be friends. And maybe it was more so on Layla’s side than Felicity’s, but he knew his older sister better than to just abandon a solid friendship when she’d only had enough friends to count on one hand. 

Slowly but surely, Jesse had come to understand why Layla’s visits had dwindled down over the last few years. “What, did you stop comin’ to see me just ‘cause she told you not to, or somethin’?” he asked, eyes narrowing. But he didn’t let her answer because he already knew what she’d say. He could feel how guilty she was for throwing him in the pen, especially since she didn’t mean to. And honestly, it had been tough to get over that. It felt like the ultimate punch to the gut. A night in jail? Fine. But however many years in prison? That was something that most people would consider a goddamn deal breaker.

And yet, Jesse couldn’t ever really let go of Layla. 

Maybe he was being too soft on her. Maybe he should’ve been pissed, made her work a little bit harder to see him. Surely there’d be people who wouldn’t even tell her that they were out. But it had happened so many years ago and Layla wasn’t a fucking crazy ex-girlfriend. Though they’d been estranged for the last few years, there was no denying they had, at one point, been so connected that it was cosmic. Was it a sin to want that back, or to at least feel it again, some validation that it still existed?

“Listen,” he said, leaning forward on the table with his elbows. “You know me. I hold one fuckin’ hell of a grudge, sure, but I wouldn’t hold it against you. I was scary back then. And you just wanted what was best for me. We don’t gotta get all deep into it, ‘cause, fuck, I’ve had one too many support group sessions in the clink and there’s shit I’m way over with already. And you’re doin’ alright, too, so we don’t need to open up that can of worms.” His voice kept cool and was even laced with some humor. He continued, though, softer: “But I don’t got any hard feelings towards you for what happened. I know it wasn’t your fault.”

He pulled himself back and leaned back against his chair, forearms resting on it. “I’m sure Felicity misses you even if she’s being a bitch about it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll convince her somehow, tell ‘er she owes me for scaring you off from not seein’ me over the last few years. -- You know how many conjugal visits I was offered but didn’t get ‘cause I didn’t have anybody to conjugal with? Embarrassing.” 

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

As soon as they get this done and over with, Declan is going to beat the shit out of Damien for this betrayal.  Even as the blonde takes a seat on the couch, his eyes narrow at him in silent accusation.  The other has nothing to say, only looks up through his lashes as he blows on his cup of coffee.  This isn’t the morning he had in mind at all, and he’s starting to wish that he had crashed at Layla’s or something instead.  She wouldn’t sell him out, damn it.  He doesn’t care how good Damien’s attentions had been; he had come here for a reason.

Of course he couldn’t trust him.  Of course as soon as Soleil had undoubtedly started crying, he had broken quicker than an alcoholic in a bar.  The guy was a softy when it came to tears, and even though Declan hated them too, he wouldn’t sell him out for it.  Again  —  betrayal.  He’s stealing the good weed and not apologizing for it, damn it.

He shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, then begins to toe his sneakers off.  Frustration is running through every part of him; he’s starting to wish that he had actually jogged instead of walking to the coffee shop and just getting something to eat with some peace and quiet.  Sleep hadn’t been on his mind anyway, and it was easier to do so when he had something in his stomach.  He had gotten caught in the downpour on the way home.  But now he’s wishing he had gotten some of his extra energy out, because he can feel it sparking everywhere in his body like mini wild fires attempting to lose control.

“Oh, I was home.  Just when you were at work.  Can’t survive on Damien’s clothes forever.”  A small shrug of his shoulders; words are void of emotion, not giving away a damn thing that he’s starting to feel.  He’s angry still, angry because he had been a fool and fell for someone.  More than anything, he’s hurt by half of the shit she had said, how apparently he had been awful for just caring about her.  Layla told him he was being too hard on her, but Declan doesn’t want to play games anymore.  There’s a reason he doesn’t do relationships, and Soleil merely proved him right on that front.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about the things I said too.”  A small shrug accompanies his words, and he heads into his room to change into clean clothes that aren’t gripping every inch of his body.  He comes out a few moments later, tugging a shirt over his head as he does so.  Damien’s eyeing him carefully, unsure of his actions or where this conversation is going to go.  Declan’s unpredictable when he’s silent and he doesn’t like it.  There’s too much hanging around the room now, thick as the smoke had been the night before.  Damien actually feels his lungs hurt at it. 

Ruffling a hand through brunette locks, Declan lets out a small noise.  “Don’t say that.  You don’t get to say that four letter word to me because you don’t even know what it means, Soleil.”  His tone is sharp then, along with his eyes.  Hand shakes a little bit and aches for a joint, but he refuses to light one up.  Not right now, not when he’d be proving her absolutely right.  Damien nudges at his leg but Declan swats him away.

“You can say you’re sorry, because I am too.  But you don’t get to say that to me.  Not after what happened.”  Part of Declan wants to just forget it and embrace her, say fuck it and leave everything behind.  A fresh start that they have done time and time again when they got in very minor spats.  But he can’t do that; his mind goes back to how spiteful her eyes had been, how she had been so damn proud of herself for defying everything that he had said.

He can’t just forget, not that easily; it’s too soon, and it’s far too soon to be using that four letter word.  What’s between them isn’t love, not on that level, and one day she’ll understand that.

I’m sorry about the things I said, too. 

Soleil lifted her brows a bit, surprised at how he’d taken her words. He confused her; he seemed to be totally empty and she wondered if it was a sign of him completely being checked out of their relationship. She’d hoped it wasn’t that way, but wasn’t given a chance to speak again before he was already darting into the other room, probably to change into a new set of clothing. She glanced at Damien, half-wanting some guidance, but knew better. She needed to do this on her own, and not doubt herself, just like he said. 

She bit down on her bottom lip, eyes stuck to the floorboards up until she heard him come back. God, it felt like hours since the last time she saw him leave for the bedroom to the second he walked back. At his words, though, so frigid and icy, she couldn’t help but wince. 

Soleil had never heard his voice like that. It was one thing to yell at her-- that was painful, but she could take it-- but he spoke to her like he had completely given up on her, like he wouldn’t even entertain her past her apology. She did her best to understand. After all, it was him who told her just how guarded he was and why, and yet she still betrayed that trust, so she knew she deserved all of this. But it still hurt, and it was a shot to her gut after the confidence boost Damien had given her right before he came. 

Hands reached up to absentmindedly wipe away her tears, no longer focused on crying as much as she was just wanting to tell him everything she’d felt. She was brave and looked him up and down before locking eyes with him, no matter how violently the nervousness inside her stomach swirled. 

“I think you’re wrong, Decs,” she said. Maybe Damien shouldn’t have been here for this conversation, but there would be no getting used to it. Soleil didn’t have anything to hide anymore, anyway-- according to the two of them, she was an open book. So why not be vulnerable? “I do know what it means and I get reminded every time I see you, or even-- even just think’a you. You don’t know how badly I regret sayin’ everythin’ and doin’ everythin’ I did because I know how much it hurt you. I said it all ‘cause I was upset and actin’ bratty and didn’t know it’d make you hate me so much.”

She took a deep breath and remained standing, even if every bit and piece of her wanted to falter, wanted to just run into his arms and cry, begging for forgiveness. “But if you don’t want me to say it anymore, then I’m happy I could say it at least just one more time before this is all over,” she said. “So I-- I get it, if you just want me outta your life.” 

She was breaking her promise with Damien a little bit here by showing her lack of self-confidence, but you couldn’t unlearn a habit that’d been ingrained in you for so long. It would take baby steps, she thought. And if Declan could be there to see it, help her figure things out... then that’d be all she needed. But if he chose otherwise, she’d understand. 

Realizing she was giving him somewhat of an unfair ultimatum, she shook her head. “I don’t wanna push you to come back to the apartment,” she said. “Just know it’ll be there for you if you ever want to. -- It’s good to see you and know you’re safe.”

Soleil glanced over at Damien, giving him a half-hearted smile before turning around to start heading out. She’d tried, but she knew it wasn’t in her place to consider things all done and healed. Declan would come by or show some sort of sign if he was willing to forgive her, and she would be okay if he wouldn’t at that moment. Or wouldn’t for a while. At least she could begin parting with the guilt, little by little. Pouring her heart out to Declan and Damien in the partied-in living room felt like giving some strange confessional. And now she’d either repent for her sins or be forgiven. 

[glamoroussource]

samara weaving for wonderland, magazine 2020

[bwladiesqueens]

Leighton Meester for 2019 Summer TCA Portrait

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

“I don’t hate you.  I get it man.  You’re still growing up and needing to learn.  But I do have Declan’s back too.  You’re just lucky my big brother instincts kicked in.”  He snuffs lightly as he rubs his own nose, not at all too concerned with it.  He isn’t as mad as he probably should be at her; instead, he just wants them to work things out.  The last thing Damien needs is both of them moping around; he’s exhausted from even thinking about it if he’s honest.  Everyone heals in their own way though, and if Declan doesn’t want to accept her, that’s up to him.

A soft snort leaves his lips as he starts to shove things into the garbage bag.  He’ll have to make a run later to return the cans and bottles, but for now they can find their new home here.  Cursing lightly under his breath, he shoves another can in a little more forcibly than he means for it to be; he really needs to start up some sort of system when they have parties.  He’s tired of turning around and having to play clean up bitch, especially when his friends have done most of the partying.  He just kinda chilled on the couch and wanted sleep.

“Don’t say you’re sorry, it’s fine.  We were never serious.  Close friends, yeah, but you know.  Sometimes benefits, sometimes not.”  Shrugging his shoulders, Damien keeps his eyes averted for a moment.  There is a little it of a sting there that he never talks about; call him a sucker for falling in love way too quickly when he new the borderlines and rules.  Still, he’s happy that Declan’s found someone, even if they’re fighting.

“And for the record, he’ll still want you.  So don’t keep doubting yourself, yeah?  Not attractive.”  Once he’s positive all the cans are picked up, he chucks the bag somewhere near the door.  He’ll deal with it later when he goes out, but for now at least the floor can be seen and he’s not tripping over everything.  He needs to quit the partying for a little bit; it’s not fun anymore, more of just a nuisance.

A few minutes later, the door creeks open, and Damien glances up from his spot in the kitchen.  Coffee is starting to override the scent of alcohol and pot, and he’s been watching it drip down into it.  But what he’s not prepared for is for Declan to actually return from his run so early, soaked to the bone.

But what strikes him more is the death glare that he’s being given; oh yeah, he’s going to get his ass handed to him later for letting Soleil in.  Declan isn’t stupid; he knows that Damien’s been keeping her here knowing full well he would come back.  He’s blown his last hideout cover, and there’s something to say for lack of loyalty.

“Didn’t know we were taking in strangers off the street.”  His voice is brisk, cold around the edges as their eyes lock.  Damien’s dealt with it before though, and he merely shrugs his shoulders as the coffee pot beeps and he makes a noise of glee in his throat.

“Stop running from your problems and I wouldn’t have to.”  The words are said casually, hands busied with filling up a mug with the steaming substance.  Then he’s heading back into the living room, dropping down on the couch and getting comfy for the show.

She is lucky. Friendship in the big city has been something so tough for Soleil to come by. She had her few work friends but didn’t share the same interests with them outside of work. They liked to go out and party often and she’d made the mistake of tagging along once only to be the babysitter. But Damien had offered a helping hand to her when it certainly wasn’t in his place to, when his true loyalty lied with the one she’d betrayed. She was grateful for this; made a little note in her mind to ask about Adelaide another time, and maybe even hope she’d get to meet her. If she had a big brother as kind as Damien, she was lucky. 

Quiet now, she busied herself with cleaning up the living room and surrounding areas. They must have had quite the rager last night, and she wondered if Declan participated at all. Damien had mentioned he was out on his usual run-- was he not too hungover from last night to pull through on his routine? She cleaned somewhat happily while Damien across the room huffed. Being the host had its ups and downs, and she felt bad that no one had stuck around ‘til morning to help him out. Guess everybody in this lifestyle looked out for themselves mostly. 

She gathered enough garbage to fill a single large bag and set it down, straightening up what clutter she could while Damien finished up. The coffee table was completely clear now and she even noticed an unopened candle in the middle. She picked up the lighter beside it and flicked it, lighting the three wicks. The house was still not as spic and span as she would’ve liked, but this felt way better. Once Damien filled up his own bag, she grabbed it from him. The least she could do after all his kindness was take out the trash for him. “Be right back,” she said, heading out of the back door in the kitchen to toss things into the garbage. 

When she stepped back inside, she’d nearly forgotten all about who she was waiting for until he came in across the way, on the other side of the house. His cold gaze immediately made her shrink; she looked down, averting his eyes and biting down on her bottom lip, almost making it bleed. She held her elbow as she dared to walk forward, having the strange feeling that Damien, who sat, was willing to facilitate some kind of reconciliation between the two of them. She swallowed and felt stones in her throat. 

Was it too late to retreat? Soleil wished she could ask for a cup of coffee, too, just to sip and simmer on while she braced herself to apologize to Declan. Feeling brave enough now that his presence had settled in, she tucked her hair behind her ears and looked up at him, hazel doe eyes pleading for forgiveness before she’d even said the words. 

“Hi, Decs,” she said, voice barely there. She cleared her throat. “Um, I just stopped by lookin’ for you... Damien let me in. You haven’t been home in a couple days and I was just worried.” A soft smile fell on her lips in attempt to lighten the mood, maybe soften him up before she apologized. When it didn’t really work, she understood and nodded, feeling discouraged. But she had to remember what Damien said, to stop doubting herself and to feel empowered to apologize, even if she wanted to run away, too. 

“Listen, I... I wanted to say I’m really sorry for how I acted and what I did and what I said that day,” she said, earnestly. “I know that I really hurt you, and I don’t expect you to forgive me easily... but I wanted you to know that I...” Her gaze dipped again, feeling tears starting to well up in her eyes and her chest began tightening. She hated feeling like she needed to cry, but she couldn’t help herself. Keeping herself strong, though, she glanced back up at him, managing to not let tears fall yet or her voice falter too much. “I really care about you even though my actions didn’t show it. I wanna try and make things better... I just, um...” oh, no, the tears... “Um... I miss you. And I love you.” 

[diamondformm]

[premedicubs]

Someone help her

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

“It does look nice, I’ll give you that.  Toughens you up to the city like, ‘hey I’m a bad ass look at my bull ring’.”  A light smirk tugs at his lips as he rummages around in the cabinet under the sink, mumbling to himself as he looks for the right things.  Finally, he comes up with some cotton balls and saline spray, followed by some after care spray that Declan’s left lying around.  It’ll be a good start and it’ll get it cleaned a bit faster, which is a good thing.  He washes his hands before he grabs up everything and sits on the lip of the tub, tilting her head up ever so slightly so that he can see it better.

“You didn’t — Soleil, you have to clean every piercing during the healing process.  Even your ears you’re supposed to take saltwater and sanitize the area.”  Eyebrow raises ever so slightly at her, a bit incredulous; he knew that Ashton and Declan had very different styles, but did the guy seriously not give the girl any information?  As if it wasn’t bad enough that she had gotten it on an impulse of defiance, but now she could possibly get it infected because of ill information.

Frowning to himself, he soaks the cotton ball in his hand before pressing it up against the piercing, flushing it before continuing on with the same routine for around five minutes.  He’s spent too much time with Declan and reading his old class work high; he much more prefers doing tattoos but it’s good in this instance.  His high brain had provided something useful at least.

“See, this is why you don’t do things on a whim, because shit’s painful and you gotta keep it clean constantly.  Three to six times a day, you’re going to need to mist it with saline spray.  Then once or twice a day take cotton balls and soak them with salt water and keep flushing it for like five minutes.”  Nose scrunches once more as he lightly mists the saline spray up both sides of her nose.  It’s fairly red, but she doesn’t look like she’s on the verge of infection just yet, so that’s good.  “And it’s pretty fucking shitty that Ashton didn’t even give you after care instructions.  That’s like the major rule; you get something done and you learn how to take care of it.  You’re lucky he didn’t manage to do the damn thing crooked.”

Once he’s finished cleaning her up, he dumps the things in the garbage and washes his hands again, then holds out a hand to help her up.  “Sorry about the clothes by the way.  I thought they’d fit a little better but you know.  I’m a horrible judge at that kind of thing.”  Any sort of sleep that he had been willing to take on was gone now; there was more intrigue than anything about the girl.  She was every bit tiny and immature as Declan had said, but there was also something there, something that burned deep that no one had touched.

“For the record, you’re not a little girl.  No one sees you that way.  You just grew up narrow minded from what I heard.  I’m surprised you didn’t run for the hills the second you met him knowing he smoked weed, drank, and had tattoos and piercings.  Hell, I’m more surprised you haven’t tried to splash me with holy water.”  Chuckling, he slips out of the bathroom and toward the kitchen, kicking another can out of the way.  He’s digging underneath the sink for a garbage bag when his next words echo out.  “Given on the fact that Declan and I used to fuck.  Stopped like two months into meeting you though, so thanks for the cock block.”

Damien’s half teasing, but there is a pout that she can’t see.  It had stung but he had known it was coming, so there’s no hard feelings.  Popping up with the bag, he gestures to her.  “Wanna give me a hand?”

Suddenly the bathroom turned into a doctor’s office, with Soleil shutting her eyes and bracing for whatever pain would come to her nose. With her weak pain tolerance, it was honestly a miracle that she’d gotten through one of the more painful piercing sessions for her first time, and she’d only shed a few tears. The momentary pain easily turned into perpetual discomfort, though, and she didn’t know what felt worse. Damien was right: The adrenaline was gone now and in its place was the consequence of a bad decision. She understood, in hindsight, why Declan was so adamant on her not getting one. Ashton just so happened to not care as much. 

She wanted to scrunch her nose but couldn’t whenever she felt the spray hit her nose. God, it was a sensation she never could’ve imagined. It felt a little bit cool on her skin now, though, and after a little bit, it wasn’t so bad. She resisted the urge to itch her nose with her finger and looked at Damien. “Well, in fairness to him, I sorta ran off before he could toss me a pamphlet or anythin’,” she nervously chuckled, tucking the back of her hair behind her ear. “But, no, he didn’t tell me too much about what maintenance’d be like. Mostly just complimented my dress that day.” 

Looking back at it, Ashton was a bit creepy, and she was reminded of another regret. It must have hurt Declan’s feelings so badly to see her choose another piercer over him, especially when she’d heard how Ashton always got chosen over him (even though it wasn’t right). She shuddered a bit at the thought before turning her attention back to Damien. 

At the mention of her clothes, she smiled a little bit, looking down at her outfit and pulling at the knot she’d made with his tank top. “It’s okay,” she said, “I don’t mind. Anythin’s better than being in my own soppy clothes. Plus, these smell good. -- And... you’re not so bad, Damien. I thought you would hate me... and honestly, s’okay if you still do. But you’ve been nice to me and so I’ve got no reason to splash you with holy water or whatever.” 

She wasn’t a stranger to that judgment. People saw her and her cross necklace and automatically assumed she was completely pure. Those assumptions of her were her number one pet peeve, and perhaps it was why she’d been trying to break out of that mold for so long. She was only recently realizing that she couldn’t change that part of herself though, and didn’t have to get so defensive about it whenever people made assumptions. She’d gotten along with Declan for so long because she didn’t care at all about how different they seemed to be on the outside. It was the inside that mattered to her, and the pot smell, she’d just gotten used to. 

She stood up whenever he did, all of a sudden getting the urge to follow him around like a tail. Her hands clutched at the knot of her shirt and she head into the kitchen with him, retrieving the garbage bag from him. She parted her lips at the new information. “Oh,” she said, “I had no idea...” Two months into meeting her? He couldn’t have possibly started to like her that early... Her heart dipped in sadness from Damien’s words. 

“I’m sorry, Damien,” she said, pushing her lips to one side to bite the inside of her cheek. “For what it’s worth, I doubt he’ll want to be with me again, so you can always start back up again. Would be nice, I mean... you two are kinda cute together.” She giggled a bit. 

[crowderava]

The Wedding Singer Okay, I just wanna warn you that when I wrote this song I was listening to The Cure a lot, so.

[akajustmerry]

“I think we need variety. People respond to different things. There’s no part of me that would be able to make a film that just sweetness and positivity. I wouldn’t know how to do that. I’m just not interested in stories like that. I have a taste that leans more toward the darker side of things. Life has light in shades, it varies all the time. You have good days and bad days, and it’s good to represent all of that in the films that we watch.” 

Karen Gillan on her directorial debut, The Party’s Just Begining (2018)

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

There’s not many things that Layla can bring herself to hate; her moods twist quickly because she doesn’t like when she’s angry.  But the fact that she can’t have the one thing that she’s missed for five solid years?  That hits her harde than she truly wants to admit, even to herself.  Jesse isn’t hers; just because they were talking right now and they had a solid relationship still in the friend department, didn’t mean that he wanted that back again.  Layla hadn’t wanted it back, either; she had been content with everything, moving on and not thinking about the boy who both brought her to life and destroyed her all in a few swift moments.  The shop was her favorite place on the planet; it’s the one spot that Jesse’s never touched.

But every single solitary thought she had had flown out the window the moment that Jesse had spoken; five years of improving and getting herself together, opening up a shop and finding a solid crew, went to shit.  All of her thoughts slammed to Jesse like a welcomed hug and even now she knows her chest only aches because she wanted to have him.  It’s selfish; they’re both doing different things now, he’s cleaning up his act and she needs to respect that.  He’ll find some nice girl; she has no doubt that Felicity will introduce him to someone who will understand him and who will be great with him, give him a family and a fairy tale.  But that’s not what Layla can provide, no matter how much she wants to kid herself into thinking that she can.

Swallowing hard, she lightly taps her own thumb against the table in an attempt to distract herself.  It’s not fair to push her wants and needs onto him; Jesse is finally on solid ground and she knows that that means more to him than anything else.

“A degree, huh?  That’s a new one that I’ve never heard.  I mean, you guys can take classes in jail, so I guess it’s almost true.  A little white lie and bending never hurt anyone, right?”  Ty was still young and impressionable; she actually applauds Felicity for thinking up something so clever.  Ty and Jesse had a fairly good relationship and it was best that it wasn’t tarnished.  Some things kids couldn’t understand, and she’d rather the kid see him in a positive light rather than think that he was a terrible person.  She’s sure nothing good would come of that.

“Yeah, yeah maybe sometime.  I haven’t talked to her in years.”  A small shrug of her shoulders and eyes flit down to her glass once more.  That relationship ended five and a half years ago when her and Jesse had; there was always some sort of animosity even when they bumped into one another at prison visits.  She knows how important family is to the entire family, and she has a feeling that her betrayal has now made her that outsider.  Layla doesn’t blame Felicity for protecting him  —  it’s what an older sister should do.  It doesn’t stop her from missing the bonfires and nights spent trying to learn awful Spanish while drunk.

“Don’t go too hard on Nick though; she probably really likes him.  And if he’s not a skeevy little weasel, then I say let her have her fun.  Obviously she’s seen good in him if they have a kid together already.”  Then again, her and Tom had had a kid as well, and as adorable as Ty is, she knows that that’s a tie that will never be broken.  If she’s making the same mistake with Grace and Nick, Layla’s almost certain that she’s a hopeless case in the love department.  “Who knows, you two might actually get along and clink some beers while talking about life.”

A little white lie and bending never hurt anyone. 

Jesse nearly laughed out loud at that. It was ironic, now. She probably hadn’t said it with her past actions in mind, though he couldn’t help but think back to the reason he’d gone into the pen anyway: She’d sold him out. He didn’t blame her. He was fucking scary that night and she wanted to get him the help that he needed, and it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know exactly what it meant. He wondered if it’d made her more careful about the things she said, the things she agreed to. Gone were his misgivings about that night he’d found out who tipped his name off to the police. He was so damn pissed at her and felt so betrayed. But as the years went on and as she’d stopped going to see him, he found more and more clarity about that night. 

Any sane person would’ve sold him out. Felicity was fiercely loyal, he would give her that, but she’d never do what was right-- what he deserved. 

It was water off a duck’s back, though. They’d long gotten over their anger in the first few visitations and, eventually, things had faded between them. Before Jesse could even see it, he’d forgiven her. Time healed all wounds, and if he was gonna spend a decade in the pen, he wasn’t going to get old and wrinkly being angry at somebody. And even though he’d gotten out five years earlier, he still felt the same acceptance towards her decision. 

Jesse chuckled. She and Felicity might never want to be in the same room again after the night he’d first gone to jail after setting the woods nearly on fire. They’d said some pretty vile things to each other, from what he’d heard in the lobby from his cell that night. Police officers actually had to separate the two so they wouldn’t yap at each other while Felicity completed the paperwork and set his court date. 

“I’ll make a deal with you, querida. Ojo por ojo, an eye for an eye,” he said. “If by some goddamn miracle I actually get along with Nick, then you have to come down and see Felicity sometime. Maybe for Labor Day.” He knew what can of worms he’d be opening just by making that kind of bet with Layla, but it was worth a shot. If Layla was going to somehow be in his life after all of this-- which, he’d wanted her to be, just didn’t know how big the doses would be-- she’d undoubtedly have to get along with his sister again. 

He finished off the rest of his water in one solid chug and slammed his glass down as if it’d been a shot on a Saturday night. Wearing a grin, he reached his hand out to the girl across from him. “We got a deal or not? C’mon, I’ll be on my best behavior. Even if you lose, you would be doin’ Nick a favor by having me not busting his balls all the time.” 

Some might think he was fucking crazy for trying to be friends with Layla again, but she was just something he couldn’t quit. No matter how long it was between her visits until she stopped seeing him altogether, he couldn’t deny the girl was as big of a part of his life as the flame tattoo on his skin. He foresaw meeting other girls-- after all, he was in jail for five years with the only semblance of pussy he’d had being his right hand and some Vaseline from commissary-- but he doubted they would be anything other than just means to an end. He wasn’t going to find a girl as good as Layla in a long time, nor was he necessarily in the market for one. Only messy girls liked guys who’d done prison time. 

[nverletmego]

mockiingjaysx​:

Damien doesn’t think she’s actually going to take him up on his offer.  She has every right not to, and he wouldn’t blame her if she wound up leaving.  He isn’t who she’s here to see, and he knows that Declan can be unpredictable when he gets in the zone of something.  Though he’s fairly certain that his friend hasn’t been much in his own mind lately at all; he keeps trying to harp on him to go back on his meds, but Declan is determined to stave off the demons.  There’s no shame in it and he wishes he would see it, but it doesn’t matter.  What matters now is that he has the opportunity to at least make a little bit of an impact on someone and to make amends for his attitude prior.

His mother would smack him upside his head if she knew how he had treated the young woman.  The fact of the matter was though, was that he knew she had hurt Declan and he had seen red.  He’s still not happy with what she’s done and he plans on making that abundantly clear, but he also can’t just let her cry and not offer something.  His mind slips back to Adelaide and coddling her after her own break ups or whenever she broke, and he knows that if he turned her away, he would never forgive himself.  So he does the next best thing that he knows how to do and lets her crash into his chest, nearly knocking him backward on the arm.

An arm steadies around her waist and the other wraps in her hair, lightly stroking the wet strands as he lets her cry it out.  Soft murmurs are offered to resemble comfort, even if he’s not so sure how comforting it actually is.  It doesn’t matter though; he thinks Soleil actually needs this and needs someone to be the voice of reason, someone who’s temper isn’t going to flare because he’s trying to rebuild the fortress that resides within him.  She’s just a girl who’s trying to navigate, and he knows that it’s starting to truly hit her what’s happened.

“You don’t need to get a piercing to impress him.  You being you was more than enough.  But if you actually wanted a piercing and you talked to him instead of putting him on the spot, it would’ve gone better.  He’s the type of person who needs to know that it’s thought through and that you’re absolutely sure that you want it.”  Fingers lightly rub along her back, his eyes glancing at the clock and then the ceiling in order to focus on something.  He hates that he’s selling Declan out like this and curses whatever being in the universe is taunting him and making him weak.

Pulling her back gingerly, he swipes some hair behind her ear and lets out a soft sigh.  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have a very young face and that more preppy, reserved girl look.  Layla was just yanking your chair and seeing if you had bite in you, if you were good enough to be important in Declan’s life.  And the church girl thing?  Declan talks about you, a lot.  We’ve heard about everything from him, especially how he’ll combust if he ever walks in there.”  Another piece of hair is moved behind her ear, and he lets out a slow breath as he tries to catch her eyes.

“You are a fragile girl.  And he’s a fragile boy.  Everyone’s fragile in their own right if you hit below the belt just so.  But the fact is is that you can’t have everyone else change their perspective of you until you change your own perspective of your self.  That’s what the piercing was really about, trying to prove that you aren’t a kid anymore.  But it feels pretty shitty now, huh?  Now that that endorphin high has run out.”  Ever so lightly he taps the side of her nose, and chuckles at the pain that openly races across her face.

“Come on.  Have you ever even cleaned that thing?  It’s going to get infected if you don’t, and that’s worse than pretending that it doesn’t exist.”  Lightly, he stands up, pushing her back before giving her a gentle shove toward the bathroom.  On the way, he grabs a tank top of his own and a pair of his pajama pants, handing them over.  “Change into those and then let me know you’re done.  Sit on the toilet and I’ll clean it out.”

Being held by Damien made her feel small, and it made her long for something she’d never felt with Ford. He seldom hugged her like this, only gave her rough pats to the head to mess her hair up on purpose and shoved her when she was in his way. And even though those gestures were his own language of affection, she couldn’t help but yearn for this from her own brother from time to time. Luckily, Amelia seemed to have been softening him up, so maybe it wouldn’t be before long that she could actually cry in front of Ford without feeling embarrassed or weak. She sighed deeply and contentedly, nodding. She couldn’t believe Damien, who was so intent on hurting her feelings earlier, was all of a sudden resonating with her in a way she couldn’t imagine.

It wouldn’t come overnight, but Soleil wanted to stop worrying about what others thought of her. It couldn’t just be an afterthought after she was peer pressured into doing something she didn’t want to do. It couldn’t just be a reflex against some stupid boy on Tinder who didn’t like her. It had to be from her own volition. She needed to choose to be herself because she wasn’t ashamed of herself, instead of trying so hard to chameleon into everything the big city offered. 

You could take the girl out of the small town, but you couldn’t take the small town out of the girl. She really was fragile, but undoubtedly, she’d break through that soon. She took his advice with a ginger nod and winced whenever he’d poked the side of her nose. God, this septum piercing really had just been a pain in her ass. She spent an hour yesterday researching it and if she’d just thought for one second before making such a rash decision, she wouldn’t have chosen something so advanced and painful for her very first piercing. She’d get her ears pierced ten times before choosing the little ring that hung from her nose. “Maybe it feels shitty, but it looks kinda cool,” she mused, laughing softly before she looked at him. “Don’t you think?” 

When he got up, she parted her lips, confused. What did Damien know about piercings? He seemed more like a tattoo guy, given all the artwork he’d had on his skin. Nevertheless, she got up, mostly because she had no choice-- and let him shove her in the direction towards the bathroom. She led the way until he handed her a pile of clothing, looking down at it before looking back up at him and biting her lip. “Mmkay,” she said, turning to change in the bathroom. 

A few minutes later, she’d hung her clothes up on the shower rod to dry. She looked absolutely tiny in Damien’s massive clothing, despite how lanky and skinny he was (even in comparison to Declan). Both boys were very long and that left Soleil look like she’d been wearing a dress instead of his t-shirt. She tied the tank top up to one side to make some sort of almost-crop top with it and tightened his pajama pants’ strings together so they could grip her waist. It was a good thing she’d opted to keep her bralette on because the tank top would otherwise be too revealing. She opened up the door once she finished, then pulled the toilet seat down before sitting on it. 

“I didn’t even know you were s’posed to clean this thing,” she muttered, cupping her elbows as she sat, her eyes trailing about the floor before they looked up at him. “Could you teach me how?”