#carterabernathy

[devereavx]

@carter--abernathy​

she’s been staring at him from the other side of the counter for, like, two minutes straight. he’s been dealing with other patrons, mostly, but she’s been patient, waving off his coworker who, to be fair, has been trying very hard to get her to buy a drink. when he finally gets to her and asks what she wants, she heaves the BIGGEST put-upon sigh. “i need you to go on a date with me,” she informs him flatly. “it’s one’f those stupid dares, and you know how weird shit happens if ya don’t do them.”

[devereavx]

@carter--abernathy​

this is a sign of progress, she guesses, on everyone’s part but her own. her parents, after a few months of badgering, have finally managed to persuade amandine to come home for christmas. she should be suspicious, after hardly speaking to them for the past five years, but truth be told? she misses her family. damn if she doesn’t know every question they’re going to ask, though - which is where carter comes in. she doesn’t know for sure but hopes he’s home, banging on his door loudly. once it swings open, she gives him her best, dazzling smile. “carter, babe, honey, darling. how’d you like a free trip to new york city?” of course, there are catches, but she’s hoping he’ll agree before he realizes that.

[camcryn]

@carter--abernathy

she’d had all kinds of snarky comments ready to make when she went to pick him up. carter in jail, who’d have thought ?? but they slip her mind completely when she actually sees him. blood still stains his face and shirt, and fuck if he doesn’t look awful. exhaling deeply through her nose, she takes him in as the cop unlocks the overnight cell door. ‘ fuck. okay. you’re gonna tell me what the fuck this is about on the way home. or - to the hospital, fuck. i don’t know. which one do you need ?? ’

[camcryn]

F L A S H B A C K.

@carter--abernathy

she’s free. feet pounding the pavement in her nike’s, she’s on her fourth lap around Town’s park and she’s feeling great. the place is fairly empty save from one guy who seems to have had the same idea as cam. she’s got more endurance than him, though, or maybe she’s just showing off - she’s lapped him twice since she’s gotten here, and despite not having seen his face, like to imagine it looks IRRITATED (or amused. either will work). he hears the rhythmic footsteps and protests, DON’T YOU SAY IT !!!! of course, she does - ‘ on your left !! ’ cam calls as she laps him yet again. smugness gets the best of her, and she glances back, shit-eating grin on her face. that falls immediately when she ACTUALLY sees him, eyes widening and movement stilling. ‘ what the fuck ?? CARTER ?? ’

[camcryn]

✉

MESSAGE ONE: [ UNSENT ] 

you fucking left me, jamesy. i could hate you right now, i could. i know you’re not deployed anymore. i know you were supposed to be home last week. i don’t know if you’re dead or just gone, but i’m pissed.

MESSAGE TWO: [ UNSENT ] 

grandma passed last night. i wish you were here. i could really use my brother right now.

MESSAGE THREE: [ UNSENT ] 

almost made the olympic team. didn’t quite. kinda wanna blame you cause it’s easier than thinking i just wasn’t good enough

MESSAGE FOUR: [ UNSENT ]

do you remember that one night when we were little, and mom and dad were screaming at each other so loud we couldn’t sleep? so adam got us from our rooms and we all went to his, and we built a blanket fort and just talked until we all fell asleep? i miss that. i miss having a family, carter. fuck you.

MESSAGE FIVE: [ UNSENT ] 

guess who finally moved out? me. surprise surprise. only took me twenty three fucking years. this town i’m moving to is supposed to be super cute. you should visit me sometime. i miss you.

MESSAGE FIVE: [ SENT ]

hey loser if u ate my last fucking oreo im gonna tell that blonde chick ur in love w her :-)

[likeplath]

ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳᶰᵒᵒᶰ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵐᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ. 'ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐʸ ᶠᵘᶰᵉʳᵃˡ˒' ᴵ'ᵈ ˢᵃᶤᵈ. [ flashback ft. carter ]

@carter--abernathy

maybe the bouncer didn’t check her i.d. too hard, or maybe he recognized her face from the features on the evening news and took pity on her. either way, she’s been let into the bar despite her EXTREME case of baby-face and birthday that puts her right on the cusp of nineteen. she stays on the outskirts of the bar, hugging the wall, avoiding speaking with anyone at all. she doesn’t want to talk, she doesn’t want to dance, she wants to FORGET. so sylvia carefully takes a seat on a bar stool, ankles crossed carefully. ‘ i’ll have a glass of the strongest thing you have, ’ she announces to the bartender resolutely - and then, as an afterthought, ‘ and a wine spritzer on the side in case i don’t like it, please. ’