this is me trying

You could rattle the stars. You could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down, you know it, too. That's what scares you most. private.

[humidnights]

As Chey spoke, he had glanced out the windshield towards the rental home and saw a woman with blonde hair and laugh lines on the porch - the resemblance made it undeniable that this was Carrie, who he’d now heard plenty of stories about. It had begun to dawn on him just how little of Chey he had known, up until today. She had been just his cousin’s best friend, the girl who got under his skin with always a witty comment or a way to turn his day upside down. Just seeing her mom made him realize how much about her he was going to unearth in a short amount of time, and it wasn’t an idea he was entirely averse to.

He opened his mouth to speak and then processed what Chey had said, and turned to look at her with a confused scowl. “What?” He narrowed his eyes at her and closed his mouth for a moment, then opened again. He had a hard time determining if she was trying to be funny and sincere, and got the weird sense that it was a bit of both. At a loss for words, he just shook his head and could only grumble, “It’s a bit late to try buttering me up, Johnson.”

As he started to get out of the car, he tilted his head towards her mom on the porch, now making her way over towards them. “Incoming, by the way.”

[summerbegs]

His confusion only made her double down. It didn’t quite land for her that what she’d said could pass as a compliment - because in her mind, it absolutely wasn’t. Her track record leaned heavily toward grimy musicians with nicotine habits and commitment issues, not… whatever this was. Broad shouldered, annoyingly put together, and standing there like he belonged on the cover of a ranch supply catalog.

“What? I’m serious,” she insisted, already scanning him like she might find a way to rough him up on short notice. The thought barely had time to form before he tipped his head toward the porch.

Her gaze followed, and just like that, something in her chest softened.

“There she is,” Chey murmured, quieter now. “That’s my mom.”

Obvious, sure - they looked too much alike for it to be a coincidence. Same sun warmed freckled skin, the same easy waves in their hair, eyes that caught the light like the ocean on a clear day. Carrie was in her usual overalls, undoubtedly dusted with clay somewhere. Chey had spent half her summers dressed the same way - overalls, bikini top underneath, sun on her shoulders. She was, by all accounts, her mother's daughter.

The warmth twisted just slightly. Guilt crept in knowing a lie stood between them. Chey swallowed it down and pushed the car door open, stepping out just as Carrie reached them. The hug came fast and tight, familiar in a way that knocked the air from her lungs. Vanilla and coconut wrapped around her, grounding and the most familiar scent in the world.

“My Mandy,” her mom cooed, squeezing her a little too hard. “How do you keep getting more and more beautiful?”

Chey huffed, rolling her eyes as she gently pried herself free. “Genetics. You’re welcome.”

But Carrie was already looking past her.

“Oh, honey… he’s gorgeous,” she whispered loudly, which, for her, meant absolutely not a whisper.

Chey turned, dragging her gaze over Matt like she was just now verifying it. Annoyingly… yeah. Her mom wasn’t wrong.

“Mom, this is my -” She hesitated just long enough to feel it. “Matt.” The word boyfriend stuck somewhere behind her teeth, refusing to cooperate. “Matt, this is Carrie.”

Without a second of hesitation, she pulled Matt into a full, inescapable hug. “It is so nice to meet you. I can’t tell you the last time Chey’s brought someone home.”

Chey cleared her throat, heat creeping up her neck. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight like she might physically outrun the moment.

If her mom only knew that Matt was far from a significant other. Wasn’t really anything she could neatly define. Not quite a friend, not quite an enemy - something inconveniently in between. And somehow, standing there under her mother’s knowing smile, that line felt a lot blurrier than it had five minutes ago.

[humidnights]

northern attitude | matt & chey

As Matt parked the vehicle outside of the rental in Concan, there was a part of him that was, quite frankly, shocked that he had allowed himself to be put into this situation. But, another part of him grumbled at the fact that it also wasn’t surprising at all - since when had he become soft-hearted, wanting to help out the girl he had once seen as his sworn enemy in an elevator many years ago?

The drive through hill country was filled with Chey catching Matt up on all the things about her life he should probably know, from where she grew up to all the members of her family. For the most part, he just listened intently with the occasional follow up question here and there. He was an only child and his immediate family was small, and the closest to a sibling he had ever had was Tegan, who lived miles away when they were young. Hearing stories of the way Chey grew up was incredibly far removed from his own experiences in his youth - so he listened, partially from necessity of the information, but also from curiosity.

Silence washed over them as they pulled up to the rental home and as he put the car into park, there was a slight sense of regret that struck him for a moment. It wasn’t until this moment that he really contemplated the fact that he was going to have to socialize, a lot - and it was far from his intent to embarrass Chey, so he really was here to make a good impression and not just beeline for his room to hide away.

With a deep sigh, he rubbed his palms against the sides of his jeans and looked over at Chey. As their eyes met in the silence of the car, the dread slowly started to dissipate; he was strangely comforted by the fact that Chey was here, and that he wasn't going into this alone.

He raised an eyebrow at her and tilted his head towards the house. “You ready?”

[summerbegs]

Chey had made a career out of questionable choices. Dyeing her hair nearly black after a breakup, accidentally starting a bar fight... She’d never claimed to have good instincts - just fast ones. But this? This might’ve been the most questionable choice yet. It didn’t feel real until the Hill Country opened up in front of them, sun-washed and familiar, and Matt was right there beside her like this had always been the plan.

How the hell had she actually talked him into this?

Her gaze fixed on the house as it came into view - her family’s favorite rental, every truck and SUV parked like a warning sign in the driveway. This was usually the part where Chey thrived. Pressure, unpredictability, a little chaos. It’s what made her so good at her job. But this wasn’t a set. There were no second takes here, no clean exits if it all went sideways.

This was real life, and for once, her nerves didn't sit quietly in the background. No, they clawed their way forward, loud and relentless.

“Huh?” she blinked, turning to him a beat too late, realizing he’d asked her something she hadn’t even registered. Her brain had been too busy running worst-case scenarios on a loop. Then her eyes met his. Something in her chest loosened - just a little. She exhaled, nodding faintly as it clicked. “I think so.”

She held his gaze a second longer than necessary, studying him now like she hadn’t fully let herself before. The sharp line of his jaw, the stupidly perfect hairline, eyes that were honestly kind of unfair...

God, her family was never going to believe this.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was sizing him up for a problem she hadn’t accounted for. “Can you try to look…” she tilted her head, squinting at him, “…less pretty?”

[humidnights]

Running into a drunk asshole in her line of work was an incredibly frequent occurrence that Nadine had learned to brush off and ignore. However, some proved themselves to be just obnoxious enough to cause a flicker of irritation - and, on this particular night, there was a man that had made a few loud offhanded comments, which wasn’t incredibly unordinary. But something about the vitriol in his words really started to get under her skin as the night had progressed, and one particularly derogatory comment was made when Devin had entered the room; moments later, there were swollen knuckles and broken noses.

Once the authorities had left, she started making a makeshift ice pack for him as he came out from the back. She looked up at him, she felt two things at once: a somewhat guilty feeling, fueled by the sense that there was something she should have done differently so Devin didn’t find himself with a black eye forming and the authorities at his door. Another part of her - a big part - was overcome by the warmth that bloomed in her chest with the way he fiercely protected her.

A smile touched her lips as she shook her head at his comment. Lying to the authorities seemed minor relative to the other events of the evening. “Yeah, alright, hotshot. It’s the least I could do for someone willing to take a punch for me.”

Nadine peered up at him, and she found herself overcome with a sudden urge to brush her lips against the bruises forming on his hands and his face. She blinked and quickly turned her attention to the ice pack as she let the thought fade away, tracing her fingers with a feather-light touch across his cheekbone before starting to gently press the ice pack around the edges of his swollen eye. She took in a deep breath before letting her eyes flicker back to his. “Thank you, by the way. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

[summerbegs]

Devin huffed out a quiet laugh, but it didn't quite land. His eyes stayed on her, softer now, the adrenaline finally bleeding out of his system as her fingers brushed his cheek - the touch somehow both soothing and electrifying. He didn't flinch from the cold of the ice pack, just leaned into it a fraction, like he trusted her to handle the damage.

"Hey," he murmured, voice lower this time, steadier. "Don't do that."

She was saying more without actually saying it. He saw the look in her eyes, the heaviness to the unnecessary apology. His brows furrowed slightly, the crooked grin fading into something more sincere as he reached up to lightly catch her wrist before she could pull away completely. "You don't owe me an apology. Guy had it coming. Been waiting all night for someone to shut him up anyway."

His thumb brushed once against her skin absentmindedly. A beat passed and his hand fell from her wrist. Devin held back the words that nearly came spilling from his lips: I didn't do it because it's the right thing to do. I did it because it was you. He swallowed back that truth and instead smirked once more.

"Besides," he muttered, nodding toward the ice pack still pressed to his face, "worth it for the free medical care."

[summerbegs]

if we were vampires | devin & nadine

The bar still smelled like spilled beer and adrenaline. Devin leaned against the cool brick wall in the narrow storage hallway, chest rising and falling as the muffled sound of police radios crackled through the thick wooden door. One eye had swollen shut and his knuckles had throbbed - not broken, but sore enough to remind him how close he’d come to crossing a line he couldn’t afford to cross again. Nearly breaking a guy’s nose wasn’t exactly the low-profile life choice he’d been aiming for. His patience had run too thin that evening when a drunk bastard disrespected Nadine while at work. Devin threw the first punch without much thought.

He half expected the police to push through the door and drag his sorry ass out of there, but listening closely he could hear Nadine convince them that there was no trouble and she was in fact the only one working that night. The drunk man must've been sorely mistaken, she told them with conviction.

Something warm and dangerous flickered in his chest, equal parts gratitude and trouble. He waited until the cops’ footsteps faded and the door swung shut before pushing himself off the wall. A second later, he stepped back into the bar, posture relaxed but eyes locked on her.

“You lied to the cops for me?” he said, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth as he tilted his head. “Pretty sexy, if you ask me."

[humidnights]

mira + varth

When Mira heard the whispers of a map of the Uncharted Lands, she tried her best to ignore it. Rumors like that would float around every few years, and in every iteration they ended up being untrue and a waste of time. She had learned to stop finding hope in those supposed maps of the unknown, and she no reason to believe that these new rumors would be any different. However, this time around seemed to stir something within her, and she struggled to keep her ear out of it and simply continue with her own life of hiding in the shadows. Perhaps because it was the first time rumors of a map started to crop up after a year of loneliness and solitude, when in the past it was always her mentor who would put a misplaced hope into one of these maps finally being the one. In his many years of life, the possibility of uncovering that unmapped part of the world would lead him to seeking out every possibility, even taking the crew on elongated journeys to get a hold of any clues and information. So as she tried to let it go and remind herself of all the times it wasn’t true, she couldn’t help the nagging thought that Elias would have wanted to know. He would have made it sure it wasn’t real. It was for that reason that, in some small shop somewhere off the coast, she hesitated before leaning over towards the shopkeeper and asking, “Sorry, did you say something about a map of the Uncharted Lands?”

What she had hoped would be a short detour ended up becoming a mystery that unraveled slowly - she had to trace back the source rumors through multiple people across different lands, before eventually starting to find the people that had supposedly possessed it and sold it off to one another for an ungodly amount of money. The further along she went, the more expensive the information became - she was far from the first person to ask a lot of people these questions, and as they got weary of telling the different travelers that came to them, she started to pass off coin to squeeze out information that they hadn’t told the travelers that came before. They all confirmed the same thing - that the map came in the form of a scroll, with a distinct dark brown scroll rod that had a wax seal on the end with a dragon design. The last individual she spoke to had cursed up a storm about a dark-haired man that had stolen it from him, and that the guy had last mentioned that he would be docking in Ashe Lenore.

Getting a spot on different ships, pirate or otherwise, was not too difficult. Pirates in particular don’t exactly ask for much from you - she would mention that she was a practicing navigator, and most of them would take her in for as long as she wanted with no questions asked. She joined up with a small crew that was sailing to Ashe Lenore, and quickly abandoned them upon docking to traverse the city of Alorion. It was a lot of ground to cover, and she wanted to try to find the dark-haired man before he skipped town or sold the map off to someone else.

Alorion proved to be exactly like what the rumors said it to be; it wasn’t exactly the definition of high society. Despite being Ashe Lenore’s capital, a majority of the town was disorganized marketplaces and seedy back deals. It was an easy way to sell off the map with hardly a trace, which made her start to worry that maybe finding this thing was impossible after all.

As the day faded to evening, she had glanced through the window of a tavern in passing, and she saw a scroll sticking out of a back pocket. Holding her breath, she froze and looked again - the man, with wavy dark hair leaning against the counter, and a scroll rolled up in a dark wooden rod, with a stamped red wax seal on the end. Though the angle wasn’t in her favor, she could see within the wax seal a curved tail of a dragon peeking through.

She walked in the tavern and slowly began to approach the man, who held one of the most vied for pieces of treasure on his person, clear as day. Mira was a very good thief, and despite its very bold placement on him, she had to admit that it would be difficult to get off of him. She couldn’t just pull such a bulky thing from his pocket without him noticing. Instead, as she walked by she very clearly bumped into him, feigning an accident. Without looking up at him she quickly mumbled, “Oh, sorry,” as slipped the scroll up her sleeve and out of his pocket.

[summerbegs]

Varth had made an unfortunate series of mistakes. Though, truth be told, he found no mistake in the actions he took - and that made him a fool. He had always acted on pure instinct, consequences be damned. And gods knew there were always consequences.

When Kestrel, lord of Usthar and a royal pain in the ass, hired Varth to retrieve an important item, Varth hadn't expected the job to be very difficult. Yet, the harder it was to find this mysterious scroll, the more insistent Kestrel had become, the more he began to wonder: was this scroll worth more than whatever fee Kestrel would pay for his services? He was willing to make that gamble, even if it added Kestrel and his men to his ever growing list of enemies.

He had spent too much of his time hunting down the scroll to simply hand it over. Though he knew it had to be something of substance, he felt relatively underwhelmed when he studied it. It was a map, this much he knew. Or at least, he assumed. It contained markings he had never seen nor understood. For all he knew, it was just some sentimental nonsense Kestrel wanted back.

He was dedicated, or perhaps desperate, to find out what exactly this scroll was and why a lord was willing to spend a pretty penny on getting it. When Varth stepped foot in Alorion, it was the closest he felt to being home. He had made countless deals there with many walks of life - thieves, pirates, traders, and more. It was his source of good coin, but even better information.

When the body of another collided into him, he stumbled a bit and glanced at the woman who mumbled a quick apology. Varth reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could walk away, that painfully annoying smirk of his finding his lips as he made eye contact with her. "Are you now?" Careful fingers reached into her sleeve and felt the scroll she attempted to steal. Exactly as he hoped. "You don't seem too sorry to me."

It had been part of his plan, even if it was a half-assed one. Alorion crawled with thieves who'd sell anything for a quick coin, but it also contained some rather knowledgeable people. With the scroll so blatantly on display in his back pocket, he had hoped someone would try to take it from him. He had hoped someone knew what it was. "It's not very polite to take from strangers. Have you no manners?" Varth retrieved the scroll and held it up in display.

[humidnights]

Tegan settling down was a foreign concept that Matt wasn’t sure he’d see come to life - he’d heard her brush off the idea of marriage and kids about a million times since she was a teenager. But seeing her with Jacob and Amelia just felt incredibly right for her, and it made his heart swell with pride and joy for her. So much so that he flew to Washington for the wedding, and only rolled his eyes a little bit when he learned that he was walking down the aisle with Chey. And only grumbled a little bit when he learned Chey was his next door neighbor, and the only person on the same floor as him at the hotel. The one saving grace to all of this is that Tegan had invited very few members of their family, and they were all on different floors from him - thank god. Being on the same floor as Chey Johnson paled in comparison to the nightmare that could have been.

At least, that was his thought going into it. He hadn’t been in the state for twenty four hours yet, and he heard her voice outside his door. At first, he didn’t move from his spot, and considered pretending that he hadn’t heard her. Then the door pounding started picking up. Then the yelling.

With a deep, irritated sigh, he got up and made his way over to his hotel door, flinging it open.

“What do you -” His exclamation came to a halt as soon as he realized Chey was standing in front of his door in only a towel. He closed his eyes, his tone going from angry to resigned. “Explain.”

[summerbegs]

Her lips thinned in a fine line as she stared at him, holding her head high with what little self-respect she had left. She clutched the towel a little tighter feeling all too… well, naked, in front of him. She supposed she was grateful he didn't bust out laughing or slammed the door in her face (the latter was what she had really expected). It was clear by the look on his face that he was likely already dreading being around her and it was day one.

"Let me in," she grumbled, not particularly feeling like standing in the hallway any longer than necessary. Letting out a huff of defeat knowing he truly needed her to explain, she spoke fast above a whisper. "I just got out of the shower and the room service I ordered was left at the door. I stepped out to grab it and the door closed behind me. I need to borrow your phone to call the front desk. Okay there, now you know the story, now will you let me in or shall I stand naked in this hall all night?"

Without letting him answer, she invited herself in and and moved past him. The blonde made a beeline to the phone on his bedside table and called down to the lobby to explain her situation. When they explained they were tied up at the desk and that’d it be better if someone could retrieve the key or wait, her eyes hesitantly glanced at Matt. She hung the phone up slowly with a sigh and thinned her lips once again. Now she needed another favor. Lord, help her. She smiled slowly, the kind of smile was painfully forced and trying to be suddenly polite. “So… do you have some clothes I can borrow? Or would you like to go down to the front desk for me?” She didn’t even give the option to wait. That was the last thing she needed - her in nothing but a towel waiting in his hotel room. Tegan would have a fucking field day if she saw.

[humidnights]

He’s okay. With those words, a great weight was lifted off her chest as the two of them made their way into her apartment. At first, they really were just catching up on the past few years - a spark notes version what Will was up to, and of the way Hanna hopped around the classical music scene, alternating between teaching and playing. It gave her a false sense of security, that maybe there wasn’t any bad news to receive - but, eventually, the crux of why Will was really here made itself known.

Hanna could feel the way she went stock-still as Will explained the accident - what had happened to Sully, to Luke’s health and his leg. She could feel the way she started to manually breathe as immediate sorrow washed through her, thinking of how devastating all of this must have been for Luke. Entwined with the sorrow was a sense of guilt - she had chosen to break things off, knowing how deep he was in his addiction. It had taken her years to be able to sleep at night, without the panic attacks that would come with the worry that something horrible had happened to him, somewhere. She tried to eliminate the guilt that rose up in the back of her throat, now - even though she was listening to all her worries come to fruition.

After Will explained, and he answered her questions (Any word from Sully’s family? How is the recovery going? Will he be able to walk again?), she realized her attempt to hold her tears back was quickly failing. She blinked quickly and brushed a tear off her eyelashes. “God, sorry.”

Hanna could hear her sister’s voice in her head now, telling her that this was the part where she told Will thanks for letting her know, and best of luck with Luke’s recovery. And she could also sense her sister’s inevitable eye roll as Hanna responded with the only thing that came to her mind. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

[summerbegs]

It brought him no pleasure catching Hanna up on all the pieces she had missed about his brother. It had been a difficult time for his family, though in the same vein, he was starting to recognize Luke for the first time in years. His true self was there hidden behind the anger, frustration, and remorse that wrecked him currently. Will saw the brother he had always painfully loved, which was truly the real inspiration of why he ended up at Hanna's doorstep.

Luke didn't deserve second chances. He didn't deserve a lick of kindness from possibly the kindest woman on this earth. Will knew this, but also knew that there was hope… There was hope that maybe Luke could become a man worth forgiving.

Her quick willingness to help had Will feel a twinge of guilt. The man knew if he shared his brother's sob story that the woman would feel inclined to do something - it was in her blood. He knew he wouldn't try to convince her to do anything, but also knew she'd need no convincing. That was the lingering lawyer in him playing dirty with the facts, and for that he felt guilty. But he was doing this for Luke, even if it was wrong to accept any help from someone who was so scorned by him.

"You don't need to do anything," he started and shook his head lightly. It was the truth. She didn't need to. There was no obligation whatsoever. "He's just in a bad place right now. Not like before… with the drinking and the pills. This is different… I think for the first time in years he's having to really sit with himself and it's killing him."

Will took in a breath and did his best to speak delicately. "You are not tied to him. You owe him nothing. But I just wanted to say that I think seeing you may do the man some good. He might not deserve that, but he needs it." With the shrug of his shoulders, he sighed and knew he was doing what any good big brother would do. Dragging Hanna back into their lives was not an easy thing for him to do, but he would for Luke. "The choice is completely yours. I felt like you at least would have wanted to know."

[humidnights]

will + ella

Seeing him was like hearing the sounds of laughter mixed with waves crashing against the coast of Martha’s Vineyard, no matter how many years has passed. Ella had told him that before, she was sure - as she fell asleep against him in their bed, once upon a time. It felt like that when she used to see him every day, through thick and thin; and it felt exactly the same now, when she rarely saw him at all.

Their check-ins had become a bit less frequent the past couple years, not for any particular reason outside of circumstance. But when she saw the wedding invitation come through for an old mutual friend from Yale, she couldn’t help but text him to see if he was going - and she wasn’t surprised at all to learn that he was.

There was a large part of her that was reluctant to go, having to brave seeing old friends and classmates she hadn’t seen for at least a decade, not having a plus one to help be a social buffer, and all of the attendees knowing about Ella and Will. But, the bride was one of the few Yale connections Ella still held close to her heart - so, she was brave, and she went.

After braving the drive to upstate New York, and managing to find a dress that fit the wedding’s maroon color scheme, Ella now found herself wandering and socializing at the wedding reception area. The wedding was at an outdoor venue, and as the weather was starting to cool, the space was surrounded by trees in varying shades of red, orange and yellow. She drifted through the same repeating conversations in the midst of cocktail hour, trying her best not to look specifically for a particularly tall and familiar individual, until finally she saw him. She hadn’t realized the breath she had been holding, expecting to see him out of the corner of her eye hand-in-hand with someone else. The relief, selfish as it was, was immediate once she saw he was standing on his own.

Seeing him was like the sound of laughter and waves hitting the shore, and the feeling of home - but it also came with a slight sting; a wave of bittersweetness. With a quick excuse out of her current conversation, she made her way over to him. As she came up from behind him, she saw an orange leaf had landed perfectly on his shoulder. With a slight reach, she plucked it off his blazer, and as their eyes met she smiled up at him. For a beat, they just stared at each other before words came back to her. “Hi.”

[summerbegs]

Will had no intention on attending the wedding of two old friends, as awful as that may sound. He was a busy man, and if he was being completely honest, he was not particularly fond of weddings. It brought out sour memories that needed no visitation. But then she asked him if he was going and he replied almost instantly without a single hesitation: Absolutely. Her text may have been out of the blue, but the thought of her had not been. It was like she knew she had running through his mind as of late. With his birthday approaching as he closed in on his thirties, he was rather introspective as of late. He was thinking about his life and the life that could've been. He was thinking about her, even when he didn't want to.

So, yes. He agreed to attend the wedding only with the hope of seeing his ex-wife.

People gravitated to Will whenever he arrived, as they often did back in college. That was the Edwards charm at play. He did his best to keep the small talk small so he could actually see if Ella decided to attend or ditch at the last moment. He was in the middle of nodding his head mindlessly as an old colleague went on about a good investment they had just made whenever he finally saw her. She was a maroon vision in the midst of an autumn color explosion. He had always thought she was beautiful, but now it was different. He was taken away by her.

He patted his old colleague's shoulder and mumbled a few congratulatory words before moving past him. With each stride towards Ella, he felt his chest tighten. Happiness, sadness, love, and hurt. It always happened when he saw her - every emotion that came with knowing and loving Ella Lin. She plucked a leaf from his blazer as they met and a smile tugged on his lips. He was fighting every instinct he had to not pull her into an embrace. It truly was second nature - but it had been some time since they had seen each other, let alone spoke to one another. Baby steps.

"Hi," he replied simply, that smile of his growing. "You look beautiful." He looked at her for a moment longer than he meant and realized the blood rushing to his cheeks likely mirrored the maroon of her dress. He stepped a bit closer and leaned in to whisper. "I thought you ditched for a minute there and left me to deal with these people alone." Though the actual bride and groom were great old friends, everyone else seemed rather… insufferable. Then again, that's what he gets for socializing with fellow Yale students.

[humidnights]

Without needing to look, she bumped her fist against his. It really was nice to have a roommate that understood the same pop culture references she did; and she didn't realize how weird it was to live with someone who didn't, until she met Noel. And how it felt to be forced to attend his parties, which were hosted in her home, filled with people that didn't know what a Ghostbuster was. She shook her head. "We'll educate him someday, when we have the time to show him every important piece of media from the past several decades. It can't be too hard."

Cohen's comments about the quality of the eggs made them suddenly taste like...well, maybe he was right and they had been sitting out too long. Despite cooking for a living, sometimes she just ate whatever was in front of her without thinking much of it.

She grimaced through her last bite of her egg before looking down at the plate full of them, shivering to herself and putting the plate to the side. As Cohen ranted, her mind wandered to the fact that she really did love Halloween, and normally it didn't feel like...this. Eating clammy eggs at a crappy party. Halloween meant themed bars, or going to places decked out in costume for the hell of it.

After a momentary pause, Liv slowly turned to him and replied like she discovered the cure for cancer. "Dude, let's just...leave."

[summerbegs]

Her suggestion hit him like a ton of bricks. Slowly, he looked at her and knitted his brows together in slight confusion. Finally, he leaned in a little closer to whisper to her as if it was a secret. "Can we... Can we do that?" It didn't seem like an option before, otherwise he very well would have suggested it. Cohen knew deep down that no one really had to give them permission to leave or not... Still, leaving their own home to get away from a party hosted there seemed like it wasn't... allowed.

"I didn't really consider that as an option." But it was one - a great one, even. He wanted nothing more than to get away, even if that meant no longer being able to keep an eye on his bedroom and if any random freak stepped foot in there.

Letting it sit with him a bit longer, he stood up suddenly and scoffed as if he just had the great idea. "Dude, let's just leave!"

[summerbegs]

matt + chey

Jacob had finally worn her down. At least, that’s what everyone joked about. Chey knew that maybe, just maybe, there was that part of Tegan that always wanted this - a beautiful life, a family, an adoring husband. It was always the antithesis of her carefree and fickle attitude, but now that the wedding was finally upon them… it felt right just as much as it felt so strange. Chey couldn’t have been happier for her - and if it wasn’t for that exact happiness, she might have killed her. 

Even though the wedding was small, it felt intentional that Tegan paired her cousin to walk Chey down the aisle. It definitely felt intentional whenever she discovered her suite was right next to his, as well. The only two from the wedding party on that entire floor. So, yes, Chey wanted to kill Tegan for her futile attempt at playing matchmaker yet again. At this point, she was becoming convinced Tegan was just endlessly entertained by how much Matt and Chey couldn’t seem to get along. For the sake of the wedding and her own sanity, she didn’t complain. She might’ve thrown Tegan a death glare at the reveal, but she didn’t complain. 

But now she was regretting that whole being a good sport thing. Standing outside her locked hotel room, Chey stood there bare naked with only a towel clutched to her body. She had stepped away for just a moment to grab the room service that was left outside the door before it came swinging shut behind her. Keyless and clotheless, she was cursing up a storm under her panicked breath. It was too mortifying to go to the lobby with nothing but a towel, so she was left with only one regrettable option - knock on her oh so delightful neighbor’s hotel door. That exact neighbor she was doing her best to ignore this entire wedding trip.

“It’s me, open up,” she spoke at the door after knocking on it frantically. “For the love of god, open the door!”

[humidnights]

Hanna opened her front door, and many things occurred to her at once.

The first was that she didn’t realize how long it had really been since she had seen Luke and his family. She’d thought about Luke often since she had last seen him - more often than she liked to really admit - and she had acknowledged the days, then weeks, months, and years as they passed by with a very Luke-sized hole in her life. Even now, as that hole started to patch up, the stitches and the gaps they failed to fill continued to live within her periphery, no matter how hard she tried not to see it.

Seeing Will now suddenly made the years feel more real than they were, and it made her heart ache. Though subtle, he looked a little different, a little older. She wondered how different she looked to him now, or if he felt like nothing about her had changed.

The other realization was that seeing Will triggered an immediate fear that something horrible had happened, and that worry was quickly eclipsing the joy she felt in seeing someone that was warmly familiar. She realized she was blankly staring at him for a brief moment before words came back to her.

“Will - hi!” Her voice showed both her shock and joy of seeing him, but was a bit higher pitched in a way that was clearly anxiety ridden. The smile on her face was instinctual once she had recognized him, but was now starting to feel like it was plastered onto her face. “I didn’t expect to see you, it’s been so long!”

She stood still for a moment before opening her door wider. “Please come in - how are you?”

[summerbegs]

This wasn't okay. He knew that deep down. He had no right to disturb her life after everything. Will knew all the gory details of how she and Luke ended. He knew better than anyone that she deserved something more - she deserved a life where Edwards men didn't ruin her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled sheepishly at her. It was easy for him to feel the unease tension in the air and he knew his presence likely had her believing the worst.

"I'm sorry to drop in like this," he told her sincerely. "I was in the neighborhood." Not exactly a lie - he was in the neighborhood... he just happened to be there for her.

He stepped inside her home and resisted the urge from pulling her into a bear hug. His tall frame towered over her in the doorway and he gave her another smile. Deciding to put her out of her misery, he lingered there and gave a small nod. "He's okay." Alive, yes. Okay? The jury was still out. That's why he was here.

"You have a minute to talk? I promise I won't stay long. I just wanted to... I don't know. Catch up."

[summerbegs]

hanna + luke (ft. will)

It took some digging, but for someone like Will Edwards, it wasn’t an impossible task in the slightest. He managed to find Hanna’s address, even though it had been years since she had anything to do with his family. It felt like a hail mary, the last resort to helping his brother, but he knew it would work. He just wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. It certainly wasn’t for her - pulling her back into the web of their family’s issues was the last thing anyone needed. But at the end of the day, he was Luke’s older brother and it felt like his duty to make sure he had some peace in his life. 

He hadn’t planned on what he was going to say, which was unlike him. Will was the man with all the answers, who could charm the pants off a courthouse with a speech so eloquent they forgot what the charges were even about. But he was tired and still unsure that this was a good idea. He supposed he’d speak from the heart - she’d prefer that than some scripted speech, anyway. 

Whenever her front door opened, he stood there like a deer in headlights. It dawned on him then that he hadn’t considered what her life was like now. Maybe she was married, maybe she wouldn’t even remember him, maybe she was someone new entirely. The latter felt unlikely, as she was one of the most authentic people he had ever met. So, the man stood there with a sheepish smile and greeted her nonchalantly. “Hey, stranger.”

[rainagainstthewindowatnight]

emma stone & jennifer lawrence

"You’ve been one of my most loyal friends for years," Stone tells Lawrence, 28. "And I think knowing that you can laugh together and that not everything has to be such a big deal."

[humidnights]

Liv had decided to tap out on the socializing aspect of this party pretty quickly. To her credit, she had done her due diligence and at least did a little bit of chit-chatting with most of the partygoers. But, all it took was a random person coming up to her, pointing at her tan jumpsuit with the name "Venkman" clearly written in giant, red letters on the name tag and asking, 'Are you dressed as a janitor?', for her to decide to go sit outside and wait for all the people to file out.

She sat on the bench out on the porch, enjoying the brisk air outside and the significant lack of partygoers as she picked her finger foods off her skeleton-themed party plate. As she felt Cohen plop down beside her, she didn't need to look up to know it was him as he started his rant. She fought down a laugh mid-bite. "Someone said you were Rick Astley?" A small laugh escaped her as she shook her head. "Could be worse. You could've been called a janitor - not speaking from experience or anything. I've come to the conclusion that these are all Noel's friends."

Noel was their roommate who, essentially, has lived under a rock. He had the pop culture knowledge of a Victorian child, which was just as painful as it was hilarious for Liv and Cohen. She looked over at him. "Okay, consider this - maybe you and pumpkin girl weren't meant to meet under the same circumstances a second time. Maybe she's just as much of a Halloween hater as you are, and you two are destined to meet again in, like, a coffee shop or something when the two of you aren't expecting it. It would be a much better love story that way." She pointed at him with a deviled egg in hand. "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Also, don't shit talk Halloween."

[summerbegs]

Everything that often came out of that man's mouth was coded in dramatics and hopeless romantics. If he had really considered the probability that random girl would show up years later, he'd give up on this whole thing. But maybe that's half the fun for Cohen. He knew it wasn't real, wasn't likely, and that's what made it easy.

Real love was when it got hard.

"I feel bad for Noel," he feigned sympathy, "It must be so hard to have two roommates with amazing taste and perfect opinions." And then, without even saying anything more, he stuck his knuckles out for her to touch.

Not able to help himself, he stole the deviled egg in her hand and popped it into his mouth. An immediate grimace found his face. "God, why is clammy? How long have those been sitting out?" As if it was her fault that he chose to steal her snack.

Reluctantly swallowing it, he sighed and looked around at the party. "Look, Halloween is fun. Or at least it used to be. Now I feel like it's just another night that comes and goes. Are we really gonna remember three years from now about that night we ate clammy eggs at our roommate's party while no one understood our 80's themed costumes?" Though it was meant to be a rhetorical question, he pondered it for a moment. "Well, maybe we will because I'm pretty sure that has food poisoning written all over it... Still. I just wish this night was a little more exciting."

[valkaryah-deactivated20250510]

Causeway (2022) dir. Lila Neugebauer

[summerbegs]

liv + cohen

“This is the worst night of my life,” he grumbled dramatically before sliding into the empty area near Liv. Taking a frustrated sip of his drink - some ungodly combination of alcohol and spooky fruit punch - he shook his head in defeat. “I mean, look at me. I look awesome. This costume is awesome!” He gestured to himself wearing what he thought was iconic Ferris Bueller get-up. “Someone just asked me if I was Rick Astley…. Rick fucking Astley. These people know him but they don’t know Ferris Bueller’s Day Off? You need better friends.” 

In reality, the majority of the crowd there for the Halloween party in their apartment was their other roommate’s friends. This was also not the first year he donned the costume. Three years back at a party just like this one, he met a stranger that he swore was the one. Of course, he didn’t catch her name nor see much of her due to her inflatable pumpkin suit. The two chatted until the late hours of the night, but Cohen managed to lose the napkin where she scribbled her number down.

The rest was history. No one ever seemed to figure out who that pumpkin girl was, but Cohen clung onto the hope that he’d see her again. So, the man had to simply wear the same costume every year until she recognized him. 

He leaned against the wall and looked over at Liv with an expression of an impending whine on its way. “I hate Halloween. Every year I get my hopes up that it’s gonna be this amazing big thing, but it’s just annoying. And once again, no sign of pumpkin girl. I say we ban this holiday and just go right to Christmas.”

[humidnights]

Admittedly, Hanna had noticed very quickly that the percussionist she had met a couple months ago was instructing at the same camp she was - within minutes of her arrival, actually.

And, admittedly, she had also ducked and ran away - expeditiously.

In the midst of her career shift and her quest to do the kind of work that made her love music in the first place, Hanna had signed up for this music instructor role at the last minute. It felt like a good way to take some time away, to think, to do something fun for the first time in a while. She had expected to see some more familiar faces from the local music community, but surprisingly found herself not recognizing any of the staff. Almost.

To his credit, she knew it was kind of her fault that they started off on the wrong foot. If she'd mentioned she was a violist earlier in their last (and only) conversation, he wouldn't have dug himself into such a deep hole about his opinion on her life's work. And, running into each other at a place where they were unexpectedly going to work together wouldn't have been awkward.

As the different instructors started to socialize around the cabins, it didn't take too long for him to recognize her and flag her down. Despite the instincts to run away again, she smiled sheepishly and made her way over to his little corner.

"Hey," she echoed him with a small smile. As she came to a stop in front of him, she shrugged, pretending to barely remember their previous encounter. "Oh, yeah, that - don't even worry about it. I didn't take it personally anyways."

She let the unconvincing lie sit for about one second before pursed her lips and shook her head. "Okay, well, that's not true. But, I've had plenty of time to process the criticism. So no worries - really."

[summerbegs]

It wasn’t his first brush with coming off as a complete asshole when he was actually trying not to be one. Still, it didn’t make that awkward twinge within him any better. It made matters worse that she seemed genuinely kind and he was the reason for likely ruining a perfectly good night when they first met. It also wasn’t lost on him that the two were hitting it off until he opened his stupid mouth. 

All in all, it was far from his finest moment and now here they were again. Stuck in the damn wilderness together, of all places. 

Nodding his head to her words, he took them in and then did his best to deflect the situation to something lighter. “Yeah, sorry, I have this condition where I turn perfectly good moments into awful ones. I’m thinking about getting cards made. Y’know, so I can hand one to someone in advance so they’re properly warned.” Apologies were never his strong suit. Making light of it was. 

Putting his free hand out for her to playfully shake, he decided to recite what this card would read off. “Connor Rose. Turning lemonade into lemons since 1988.” A half smile appeared on his lips and he flicked some ash away. Which, smoking in this highly flammable area was likely just another bad impression. “Anyway, you’re here of all places. Must mean you’re not all that bad.” He was joking. Well, half-joking.