hit me with your best shot, fire away.

they wanted to create a brave man, so they built one that could not feel. yet, the bravest men i have ever known are those that feel and still carry on.

[vhshawn-blog]

conversations five times relived.

[everblooms-deactivated20200820]

vhshawn‌:

“…well,” Shawn began, tilting his head to glance over at the couple sitting in the booth before turning his attention back to Sadie, “you remember Millie Robinson? She was on the cheer team, uh…yeah. Well, now she’s going around saying that her baby’s a freak ‘cause of the BFE, and people are betting she’s making it up to pretend that the real father’s her boyfriend when it isn’t.” It was the lowest-rate gossip–who’s baby daddy was who’s and everything–but it was an easy lead to the next topic he’d undoubtedly go for. “You know, it’s kinda weird now, though. Just in general. It’s been almost a year ‘n everything.” He summarized. That it, that dreadful terrible it. It was the sole descriptor for what was and wasn’t and what was definitively the BFE, and though people had most definitely moved on, Shawn wasn’t quite so lucky. Some nights he still woke from sleep, soaked in sweat or tears or both, dreaming of running endlessly through the mazelike streets of Portland. The lucid dreamlike state that had once been their reality still sat waiting, and that was the scariest. He was glad enough to have someone to talk to, and Sadie wasn’t the worst choice for any of that. Even if she had been gone and disappeared for a majority, she had still seen the weirdest parts of it.

It took a lot of effort for Sadie not to shake her head and smile when she looked up from her glass. If it had been a year ago, before she was pulled into that dark and desolate hell, Sadie would have giggled and leaned on the counter. She would have flipped her hair and gossiped along about Millie and her freakish baby, who was definitely the product of some other member of the football team. Probably that one wide receiver, Jason…but that was besides the point. In the absence of the laughter and rumors, Sadie only sighed and wiggled her nose. 

“Yeah…a whole year, Shawn. But, y’know what, you’re the first person who’s even mentioned it to me. I haven’t heard anyone else talk about it.” Sadie threw a towel over her shoulder and . “I think people are scared of how I’ll react. My parents…they don’t even talk about it to me. But, ha, they sure fight about it all the damn time.’

She pulled up a stool on her side of the bar and plopped down, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Everything’s just such bullshit…Wanna share a milkshake?” 

[vhshawn-blog]

Shawn breathed a laugh, allotting a smooth, giving nod to her suggestion. ”Only if it’s strawberry.” And on bullshit, in Sadie’s wording, there was something else.  Hush-hush, that was the unspoken acknowledgement in existence set in Graingerville. No one spoke about what didn’t need or want to be spoken about, and the complacent manner of it all was one no one wanted to tamper with. Sure enough, Shawn was just fine with that--that is, if none of the existing trauma and loose ends were still in place. Unluckily for him, they were, and he wasn’t quite as relaxed about it as everyone’s parents were (regardless on what they blamed it on--generational gaps and otherwise).  “Truth be told, I just...don’t feel great about it. About any of this, Sade. I feel kinda weird about leaving. I mean...okay, yeah, uh--what if somethin’ happens?” A nagging, dulled piece of Shawn’s conscience reminded him that they were quite capable on their own with two magic users as it was in comparison to the usual zero, in any case, and that a boy with a lucky baseball swing wasn’t of much use in comparison to that, but he quickly dashed it away and glanced across the diner.  The soft dim of the buzzed neon lights sang a calm song between them, one that almost reminded Shawn of that very word he had found repeating in his mind as of recent: normalcy. This was the new normal, and though Honey’s decoration hadn’t changed in years and beyond, almost everything else had seemed to. 

[vhshawn-blog]

conversations five times relived.

[everblooms-deactivated20200820]

vhshawn‌:

Honey’s Diner. 7:32 PM. @scull-kid.

Moments of normalcy shaped Shawn well. Though he was more than used to that specific word, normalcy, it was still strangely deafening all the same.  It had been, of course, nothing was new. The past year had been a weight both lifted and blown onto his pretenses of what was good and not, and though shaping his worldview more than it already had been was fantastical in itself, he didn’t appreciate the effect it had had on his demeanor. In his life were now thirteen others that shared his connection, deafeningly similar in the fucked sorta’ way that those who participated in the BFE could only share. They had attempted to fall back into their previous lives beforehand (of course, relationships changed and added and shifted along with it), but it was all the same to Shawn: nothing could really be the same when even Portland itself was a whole new world. Thinking about it sent you into a portal, a loophole similar to that of the same one that had unleashed the very same creatures they fought, and one that Shawn didn’t quite want to find himself in that late in the evenings.  And when times got like that, he went to pay an old friend a visit.  The little bell above the door tinkled as Shawn pushed it open, placing his hands into his pockets. He had a hand on his wallet, and pressed his license out of the little plastic pocket on habit, pushing it back in like a broken record. He was almost certain that Sadie’d be working tonight–her hours were weird these days, and when your parents owned the place you worked in, he considered you didn’t have much of a choice in schedules to begin with. The convenience was uncanny in that matter–it seemed in Graingerville that whenever you needed someone, they were always available.  Shawn pretended that was fate’s decision and not the fact that the town was practically full of ghosts, but perhaps that was due optimism.  “Sadie Scully, do I have a story for you!” Shawn hummed, his voice just below a yell as to not quite disturb the other patrons of the diner. If Sadie was in the kitchen she’d sure as hell hear him–Shawn never had a problem with volume–and his low-rate opening gossip would be an easy transition into what he was moreso getting at. Either way, he was almost sure Sadie’d know why he was there…other than the milkshakes, of course. 

She recognized the brown hair and rosy cheeks from the corner of her eye as soon as she heard the bell. In about three seconds, he’d be calling for her, vaguely in the direction of the kitchen and—yep, there it was. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…I’m sure you do, Shawn. You always do.” She held a tray of drinks and placed them at each table in succession. “You’re coming in just at the end half of rush hour, you know that right?“ She rolled her eyes as she slid passed him on her skates, making sure to hide the inevitable smile that played on her lips. It was true,  Sadie had been getting more and more used to being alone in recent months. After her Welcome Back, We Thought You Were Dead party her so-called ‘friends’ had thrown for her, it was obvious that they had already moved on. In fact, they had probably been relieved to have her gone, and looking back, she really couldn’t blame them. 

But that made Shawn’s visits all the more imperative to her sanity. 

She glided backwards behind the bar with ease and tightened the band around her messy bun. “Hit me,” she said to Shawn, as she began cleaning the dirty glasses in the sink. She was sure from this distance, the heavy bags under her eyes were on full display, but for once, she didn’t care. It was just Shawn, after all.  

“I’m all yours for the next…” Sadie trailed off and flipped her wrist as if to check a watch “…for the next thirty seconds before I have to get Mr. and Mrs. Rosewald their omelets. Also, I’m not actually wearing a watch. That move was just for dramatics…”

[vhshawn-blog]

“...well,” Shawn began, tilting his head to glance over at the couple sitting in the booth before turning his attention back to Sadie, “you remember Millie Robinson? She was on the cheer team, uh...yeah. Well, now she’s going around saying that her baby’s a freak ‘cause of the BFE, and people are betting she’s making it up to pretend that the real father’s her boyfriend when it isn’t.” It was the lowest-rate gossip--who’s baby daddy was who’s and everything--but it was an easy lead to the next topic he’d undoubtedly go for. “You know, it’s kinda weird now, though. Just in general. It’s been almost a year ‘n everything.” He summarized. That it, that dreadful terrible it. It was the sole descriptor for what was and wasn’t and what was definitively the BFE, and though people had most definitely moved on, Shawn wasn’t quite so lucky. Some nights he still woke from sleep, soaked in sweat or tears or both, dreaming of running endlessly through the mazelike streets of Portland. The lucid dreamlike state that had once been their reality still sat waiting, and that was the scariest. He was glad enough to have someone to talk to, and Sadie wasn’t the worst choice for any of that. Even if she had been gone and disappeared for a majority, she had still seen the weirdest parts of it.

[vhshawn-blog]

conversations five times relived.

Honey’s Diner. 7:32 PM. @scull-kid.

Moments of normalcy shaped Shawn well. Though he was more than used to that specific word, normalcy, it was still strangely deafening all the same.  It had been, of course, nothing was new. The past year had been a weight both lifted and blown onto his pretenses of what was good and not, and though shaping his worldview more than it already had been was fantastical in itself, he didn’t appreciate the effect it had had on his demeanor. In his life were now thirteen others that shared his connection, deafeningly similar in the fucked sorta’ way that those who participated in the BFE could only share. They had attempted to fall back into their previous lives beforehand (of course, relationships changed and added and shifted along with it), but it was all the same to Shawn: nothing could really be the same when even Portland itself was a whole new world. Thinking about it sent you into a portal, a loophole similar to that of the same one that had unleashed the very same creatures they fought, and one that Shawn didn’t quite want to find himself in that late in the evenings.  And when times got like that, he went to pay an old friend a visit.  The little bell above the door tinkled as Shawn pushed it open, placing his hands into his pockets. He had a hand on his wallet, and pressed his license out of the little plastic pocket on habit, pushing it back in like a broken record. He was almost certain that Sadie’d be working tonight--her hours were weird these days, and when your parents owned the place you worked in, he considered you didn’t have much of a choice in schedules to begin with. The convenience was uncanny in that matter--it seemed in Graingerville that whenever you needed someone, they were always available.  Shawn pretended that was fate’s decision and not the fact that the town was practically full of ghosts, but perhaps that was due optimism.  “Sadie Scully, do I have a story for you!” Shawn hummed, his voice just below a yell as to not quite disturb the other patrons of the diner. If Sadie was in the kitchen she’d sure as hell hear him--Shawn never had a problem with volume--and his low-rate opening gossip would be an easy transition into what he was moreso getting at. Either way, he was almost sure Sadie’d know why he was there...other than the milkshakes, of course. 

[vhshawn-blog]

hi! emmie here, shawn’s mun. let’s go with a little introduction! 

shawn’s mother’s parents originated from mexico, though she moved when she was small to the states. his parents met when his father was eighteen and his mother was sixteen, and within a year, she was pregnant with shawn. 

shawn took his father’s last name, though his mother never changed hers due to the bothersome nature of the legal system. it was only a few years later that his sister was born, a tiny little thing named stacie. he was instantly protective of the little girl, always wanting to hold her close and tuck her in goodnight. they were practically inseparable. 

when shawn was five, his father passed away in a highway collision on his way to work. it was a complete one-eighty from how their life had been to begin with, though the boy rose quickly from it, attempting to protect his mother in the same way that he had protected stacie as a little girl. of course, he doesn’t really remember the specifics now, but it was a difficult time nonetheless. 

years passed, and childhoods bloomed into preteen years. over that expanse, a family friend on their father’s side allowed shawn’s mother to take a job at a local laundromat only a few blocks away from their apartment. through this job offer, shawn picked up something he didn’t know he’d love to do: talk. 

the boy talked incessantly, learning as much as he could about anyone who walked through the door. he came to learn that you could find a story out of everyone if you were kind enough to just ask, and this proprieted his worldview into how it was now. 

around this same time, shawn picked up baseball--a new passion. he developed friendships through the sport he didn’t know he could have, and his swing was surprisingly strong for that of a small boy. needless to say, he loved it, growing up like a weed into the sport.

when shawn entered high school, he tried out for the baseball team. he excelled into becoming a letterman in his freshman year, his lanky legs bringing him to home plate every time. around this same time, he hung around with the team as much as he could... it wasn’t his fault if the upperclassmen wanted him to hang with them, and his friends could always wait until the weekend! 

he discovered mariah carey, and that in itself was history. 

he also discovered...something else about himself that he wouldn’t quite want anyone to find out. of course, sadie already found out pretty damn quick, but that was that. 

it was strange going from not caring to caring a little to caring too much. if there’s anything shawn knows for sure right now, it’s that all this caring is pulling too much on his plate. 

[vhshawn-blog]

[vhshawn-blog]

[vhshawn-blog]

[vhshawn-blog]