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some nights you dance with tears in your eyes. loved by mads dependent roleplay blog for JERICHORPG.

[spacelys1]

Hank and Dawn in 1x09.

[spacelys1]

leopaloma‌.

@spacelys

Leon knew it was probably pathetic. No one had to tell him that. He knew it, and his father’s voice reminded him of it every time he stepped into the damn vet. What guy his age even had a fucking rabbit? What guy his age even cared so much about it? It was stupid. Honestly, he couldn’t even afford her considering he could barely afford to keep himself alive. If he had any sense he would have released her into the wild the moment she didn’t serve a purpose for him any more. 

But he didn’t. And he knew it was stupid, but at this point in his life there were only a few living beings that hadn’t fucked off on him or hurt him in some way, and Houdini the fucking rabbit was one of those few. Leon couldn’t abandon her, or just give up on her, no matter how much it made sense. She had never been anything but good to him, and that was saying something. 

So, here Leon was. Back at the vet, waiting for his turn in line for a few minutes before he’s gingerly setting Houdini’s cage down onto the front desk with a blunt, “she’s not fucking eating.” Leon glances down at Houdini in her cage, alert but still. “I’ve tried fucking everything. Carrots. Cabbage. Pumpkin. Bell peppers. Watercress. I’ve spent more money on her food in the past two days than I’ve spent on mine in the past week and a half and she still won’t fucking eat.”

     sawyer stands idly at the front desk of the vet, pen with the logo printed vertically tapping against her biology homework. the receptionist had run out to do a couple of errands, though sawyer was perfectly aware errands was nothing but a cover-up. on and off relationship. and a man who wouldn’t stop ringing her up. the young girl had had her fair share of interactions with the aforementioned : when he came into the office demanding to speak to the other, when he called their public line non-stop for an hour until, finally, her co-worker was forced to step out. it’d gotten ridiculous, and to a point where the owner had threatened to have her let go. sawyer, however, wasn’t to keen on the idea and offered herself up as a stand-in during moments like these. at least she could get some work done while she did. silver-lining, sawyer always managed to find one. ballpoint pen settles between teeth, a nasty habit that she couldn’t unlearn, and brows furrow. this had not been covered in class. thought process goes interrupted, sawyer counting herself lucky for the older’s timing. she sets her homework aside, peeking into the cage. pout formed and a finger wags between steel wires. yeah, the rabbit was not interested in her. “ have you checked her teeth ? ” the brunette questions, attention shifting back to leon. a stupid inquiry, most likely, but still. “ uh, doc’s out for another hour. lunch. but . . . i could take a look if you want ? ”

[spacelys1]

regalwinds‌.

“ Took me about nine years, including a probationary period where I was an agent only technically, ” He doesn’t really like talking about it, even someone as serious as Elliot always seems to be can care for separation of work and casual conversation. Not that he’s very good at it — in this case, he was the one to bring it up. “ But I’ve been all … ” He tosses a glance to the smaller figure, eyes connecting to make sure he isn’t talking to a brick wall. This is the point where most people tune out, but she seems to actually be listening. “ … official for around eight years now. Though I’m sure animals are much more interesting. Takes a lot of smarts to be a vet. ” It’s wistful, almost, not because he doesn’t love his job … but because he misses his dogs. 

      hands in the pockets of her jacket, sawyer’s attention is undivided and his entirely. the agent might be the most exciting thing in town right now, well . . . aside from the obvious. and she would be an idiot not to be, at least, a little bit interested. “ than literal criminals ? ” the brunette questions, head turning towards the older. “ don’t get me wrong, i -- love animals. but they’re not exactly . . . ted bundy. ” she regrets name-dropping a serial killer, considering, and her eyes return to the road ahead. “ not that i’d wanna do what you do. no offense. ”

[spacelys1]

downhearteds‌.

        he shuffles to the time of a beat that she’s leading. he’s not sure how to do this, not sure if there’s a right way of doing this, but trailing hands feel good and her lips are soft. tentatively, he slips his tongue between parted lips and although he moves with anxiety-induced caution, his inexperience doesn’t allow for a graceful tenderness. he’s brash and unrefined, all his weight against her as he moves in pursuit of friction. his hands slip away from her waist, trailing with fascination over bare skin as palms steal her warmth. he should take off his own shirt, yeah. the thought is followed by an unintentional gulp. is he going too fast ? not fast enough ? he keeps his shirt on. ‘   o-okay. is this okay ?   ’ he breathes, stilted words seeking affirmation. 

     again, there’s that feeling : that they are rushing, first and foremost, them. was it too soon. when was the right time. but she is reminded . . . how achingly long it’s been : since emotions first surfaced, since revelations were spoken aloud, and since they last were this close. and with that information close to heart, she chooses not to dwell for much longer. fingers cling to his shirt as she does him. frames intertwined and lips fervent. the boy speaks, and she takes it as an opportunity to catch her breath. “ yeah, lou . . . ” there’s a short laugh, although far from at his expense. warm gaze finds youthful features, and her expression softens. “ it is. ” she confirms. “ don’t think so much, okay. ” a hypocritical statement to make, but she makes it nonetheless. a response isn’t awaited, rather lips reconnect : this time, a touch being far more reposed. they had all the time in the world. 

[spacelys1]

hello, friends and foes ! if you haven’t noticed ( i’m weird, i’m a weirdo … i don’t fit in and i don’t wanna fit in. have you ever seen me inactive for this long ? that’s weird ! ) i haven’t been at peak activity. and if you’ve been in the discord group chat, you might know why. but for all those that aren’t -- i lost my lovely computer to a rogue return key … hopefully i’ll get it back soon, but i’ve FINALLY managed to get my old laptop going, soooooo replies ? mayhaps. i’m going to attempt to get things done although no promises /: long story short : replies will come sometime this week but until they do … i am very open to plotting / receiving starters for the future ! that’d be all, godspeed. 

[spacelys1]

downhearteds‌.

        ‘   no i want to.   ’ he says, and now he’s awfully anxious that he won’t believe her and to think he’s already put someone else at discomfort because of his inability to do anything right … his thoughts trail, thankfully. did he put enough emphasis in his words ? does he need to explain himself ? ‘   i just … it’s dumb.   ’ he says, if only he thought of what to say before attempting to begin. ‘   i’m being dumb. but you’re perfect. you’re really really perfect and i want this.    ’ the words drop like a tsunami, all at once and profoundly beyond being able to recognize the implications, the consequences. she’s not perfect, he just doesn’t know that. he turns the handle, the door squeaking open slowly to reveal, just as promised a room littered with dirty laundry and an unmade bed. ‘   ant-man’s overhyped.   ’ he says, mirroring a subtle smile, before leaning in for a kiss. 

     she wants to believe him so she does. a response goes lost against his lips, though sawyer finds no room to complain. not now, and probably not ever. rather arms wrap around his neck, pulling a lanky boy CLOSER. for swirling thoughts, although ever so prevalent, are brushed aside in favor of him . . . and so, she brings connected figures into the boy’s bedroom, bringing them both down onto messy sheets. the first disconnect comes now, with sawyer breaking a kiss ; only to pull cotton over her head, leaving chestnut curls ruffled against a matted pillow. if she’d predicted the event transpiring, she would’ve worn something much nicer. definitely matching undergarments. only now does she realize the brightness of a small room, and with new insecurities surfacing lips reconnect. perfect . . . yeah, right.

[spacelys1]

downhearteds‌.

       he takes solace in the moments between action, the way her forehead feels rested against his. as if he could be a pillar of support when most of the time he feels like a shivering bag of bones. he takes a moment to breathe through it, the nervousness, reconciling with the want and the thing is, he’s only had sex with her and he’s never been sober for it. so he can feel it, the warmth of his palms and the way he fears they’ll become damp with nervousness. aware of his chapped lips and his slight tummy. aware of it all and committing to it anyways. ‘   sure.   ’ he says, with a nod, and tries to let the motions lead, he tries to outrun his thoughts. he stands, lifting her off his legs and holding her hand. she knows the way, but he leads anyways. that’s what he’s meant to do right ? ‘   my room’s probably a mess.   ’ 

      despite advances and despite emotions exposed, uncertainty still crawl beneath her skin. there always appeared to be doubts within her mind . . . of everything. normally, she’d wave them off ; act the decisive person that she’s made herself out to be, although at the moment the option seems to have faded into oblivion. she’s not unsure about him but about this ; about the pacing, about his own hesitations. so, she stops. a room reached and a door closed, and she stands still. a bed remains in her peripheral, taunting her about a concept that might not be. “ you sure ? ” a softer tone than earlier, unintentional but genuine nonetheless. she stands close, hand still in his much larger, and brown tones watching a taller boy carefully. “ ‘cos we don’t have to. we can watch another movie . . . if you want. ” beat. “ i hear ant-man’s really good. ” there’s a short laugh, entirely made up out of brewing anxieties, and it fades.

[bob-belcher]

[spacelys1]

bob-belcher‌:

Clueless (1995) dir. Amy Heckerling

[spacelys1]

CHARLIE JAMES.

BARS weren’t particularly Charlie’s venue of choice seeing as his social anxiety seemed to flare up and he tended to avoid drinking in public like the plague due to how much of a LIGHT WEIGHT he was. But there honestly wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Sawyer and she had a way of pushing him just out of his comfort zone. He’d had a couple of drinks as well but he knew that pushing past more than a couple was a DANGEROUS bargain for the pianist and he wasn’t in the mood to S N A P and have another mental breakdown again. Last thing he wanted to do was embarrass his Dad with his mental illness. Depression, anxiety and liquor didn’t seem to mix well for him so he kept it as manageable as he could.

Though he didn’t want to intrude on Sawyer’s fun night, remaining at the bar and getting visibly flustered when the cute bartender talked to him. Flirting wasn’t something he was particularly good at EITHER, his dorkiness always throwing him under the bus. The entire night he kept watchful blue hues on his friend, making sure she wasn’t getting into TOO much trouble. A protective and bracing arm immediately slides around her waist and keeps her up right, “Woah there.” He breathed out with a chuckle, brows raising, “I think we’ve both had enough for the night. Come on…let’s go get some taco bell and head home. We can have a sleepover and binge some trash Netflix original.”

     she’s swaying, or is the world ? eyes close for a moment as he speaks, really taking in all the information supplied - multi-tasking sure was a difficulty when one was BEYOND wasted. going home did sound good, but so did having fun. although . . . the brunette deems that netflix sounds equally as enjoyable as what they’d already gone through, and change - change of scenery was always good. she looks at him again, and a bright smile finds its way onto full lips once more. “ okay . . . ” an index finger travels to his chest, lightly poking at his ribcage. “ we’ll go. ” but. “ we’ll go . . . if -- ” if what. “ if you give me a piggyback ride. ” there it is. an offer - nay, demand - made by an inebriated girl. charlie was scrawny, and it wasn’t a reach to say an athletic girl like sawyer would be able to out-lift him, though she was hoping he’d be capable to carry her weight. at least. or she’d simply have to demand something else for her precious time. like a hug. yeah, that was her back-up demand, stored away in a clusterfuck of a mind. “ pretty please ? i’m parched. ” that’s not what that word means. 

[spacelys1]

hotheadcd‌.

it’s easier for him, to pretend that nothing’s wrong, when he’s with his sisters. sawyer’s bubbliness is infectious, and even though they’re only an hour into their drive, he’s already feeling more relaxed. maybe it’s because they’re not in jericho anymore — they’re not swathed in the darkness that the town’s fallen into. steven feels lighter, happier. like everything’s easier. “ hey, don’t laugh. i haven’t listened to destiny’s child in ages, saw. ” roadtrip memories wash over him for a moment, passing thoughts of three kids singing songs with their parents in the car. he shakes it off, though, not wanting to let anger and sadness ruin what is already an enjoyable trip. he laughs as sawyer belts out the lyrics, bobbing his head along to the music as she does. “ i don’t think that’s actually a law, saw. and haven’t you heard the whole ‘ my car, my music thing’ ? ” he questions with a laugh, then shakes his head. “ you’re lucky, though. i dig it. ”

     ninety percent of sawyer’s playlists were 90s throwbacks, despite only having lived two short years of the decade herself, and destiny’s child was heavily featured. a fact that combined with steven’s confession causes for offense to take over. “ ages ? that’s a criminal ! that’s actually criminal. ” she insists. “ i know a guy with the feds, you know ? i could have you arrested with just a snap of my fingers . . . ” she illustrates a soundless snap of her index and thumb, as if actually performing it would cause detective moore to astral project into the car. “ actually might just give him a call when we get there, sure he’ll appreciate the vacay. ” 

[spacelys1]

regalwinds‌.

“ About the case? ” NOT YET. How could he, yet? There were no theories, no proof, no evidence. There was absolutely nothing he could do except watch it again and again and again, and pray that the case would go cold instead of repeating himself. He’d love to solve it, be painted as some sort of hero. The kind he’d always wanted to be. But as time ticked on, and chances of finding body or perpetrator diminished, there seemed to be less hope. No hope — but he wouldn’t say that to the smiling girl next to him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t say that to ANYONE, not really. “ Some. Can’t disclose them, exactly. ” What’s a white lie if he’ll never see her again? If in a month’s time, he’ll no longer be needed and sent back home? “ But I think everything’s gonna be fine. ” He wants to change the topic, and so, he clears his throat and moves backwards in the conversation. “ Shift? I take it you’re not an undercover officer? Whereabouts do you work? ”

     he’s much taller, much being an understatement, and although quite athletic, sawyer has to make sure she doesn’t fall behind. being on the shorter side of the spectrum often made walking a task. especially near people like the stranger. although, supposes she can’t consider him a stranger anymore. “ whereabouts ? ” she repeats, a short laugh leaving her. “ well, detective . . . ” the girl continues, shooting him a glance. “ i happen to be a veterinary assistant at the animal shelter. soon to be a vet myself. ” soon was pushing it. “ just another couple of years . . . ” more like it. “ how long does it take to become a certified fbi agent, anyway ? ”

[chelseaperetti]

[spacelys1]

chelseaperetti‌:

I got a purse full of hard candy and an empty bladder! I’m here all night folks.

[bisexualstokes-archive]

[spacelys1]

bisexualstokes‌:

How old are you? Eighteen. We’ll see you later, Audrey. See you later.

[spacelys1]

prompt: charlie and sawyer go to a bar. sawyer gets too drunk and charlie has to take them home.

     throughout her teen years, her sister had beat ONE SIMPLE RULE into her head : don’t accept drinks from strangers. and for the most part, she’d listened. but when one was already three drinks in, it was hard to say no. so she doesn’t. sawyer allows herself to be bought shot after shot . . . after shot, until she’s a wobbling mess in need of her friend to keep her balance. noodle arms wrap around his neck, inebriated giggles leaving the brunette. “ please, charlieee . . . ” she whines, making a poor attempt to form a pout through already curled lips. “ i wanna stay. let’s stay ! c’mon, pretty please -- i’ll buy you another drink. two drinks ! however many you want. ” / @charliejxmes

[spacelys1]

prompt: sawyer taking care of an injured charlotte.

     seated on a bench outside of the grocery store, sawyer’s digging through her bag for the cotton pads she knows she has. somewhere. it was just a matter of finding them. although the disinfectant and band-aids were already lined up on her left. and on her right . . . sat an injured blonde. she ought to count herself lucky, really, that the person to rush to her aid had been sawyer kinney and her bag of tricks, as sawyer’s older sister had once nicknamed it. “ aha ! ” the younger finally announces, fishing out a small plastic bag of morrisons’ wool pads. and attention is quick to redirect to a wounded knee and the girl who it belongs to. “ this is going to sting, okay. ” / @charlottesbeale

[untamed-force]

[spacelys1]

like this for a starter from literally anyone . . .