#nosspara

[nori-king]

i. no halo / personal

“the dust and dirt blind us slowly, but give a hint of a view to make it feel alright. and though it hurts, we keep on climbing. ‘cause our addictions take us from inside. a sturdy back, but brittle bones. too weak to show.”  –  KILL OUR WAY TO HEAVEN, MICHL

Wednesday, May 1st 2019, 6:17PM Wexler-Carsons Psychotherapy Practice

It came unexpected, a faint knock at the door to Eleanor’s office. She’d been so engrossed in reading her new patient’s file over and over again that she almost missed it. But sure enough, her head snapped up just as the door opened. She was disappointed to find her colleague, Shane, rather than the boy she’d been expecting for 17 minutes, now. “Nori... are you seriously still waiting on him?” he inquired as he readjusted his satchel on his shoulder. All he got in response was a soft sigh from the blonde-haired woman. “Look, it’s been seventeen minutes, just accept that your Moon boy’s a no-show and come out with us, we’re all heading down to that new Italian joint, the one that just opened? Heard their chicken parm is out of this world!” His enthusiastic mannerisms earned him a few laughs from his colleague. “Mhm, maybe you’re right, Shane. But sorry, I can’t tonight. I have a few things I need to tidy up in my office anyway, but I promise that I’ll go home after that, okay? I won’t wait a minute longer”, Eleanor hoped her words came across as sincere, a hopeful grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Fine, you win this round, King. But I’m not giving up on you yet!” Shane winked, making her giggle some more. Just as she was about to tease him some, his head vanished from the door frame, hand still holding the door open. He popped it back in with slightly wider eyes. “Hey, uh... is there any chance your Moon boy is some angry-looking Asian kid?” Eleanor’s brows furrowed together, faint confusion clouding her features, but before she could wonder any more, the door flew open on that very same angry-looking Asian kid, who shoulder checked Shane on his way in. He barely spared the two therapists a glance and just went straight for the patient’s chair, removed his backpack and threw it on the ground. “Well... uh... I’ll leave you two to it, then. Goodnight, Nori”, was all Shane could provide her with as he closed the door on his way out. A deafening silence fell onto both Eleanor and her newest patient, only his heavy breathing being heard throughout her office.

“...I take it you’re Jaemin Moon?” She tried, getting up from her desk and stepping closer to settle down in the chair opposite him. The boy remained silent, eyes darting around the room as if looking for the nearest emergency exit. Eleanor took this opportunity to scrutinize his appearance.

He was wearing light grey sweatpants and an oversized, black long-sleeved shirt. His hair seemed disheveled, a light sheen of sweat glistening against his tan skin. His brows were knitted together in what she assumed was a perpetual frown, from his aura alone. She recalled his file saying he’d turned twenty this past September, so he was still young, and it was evident by his spotless complexion. His leg was bouncing incessantly, and Nori took mental note of it.

“I’m Eleanor, delighted to make your acquaintance”, she extended a hand his way, a peace offering of sorts, but was met with nothing but more of that same silence that had been looming over both their heads for the past five minutes. She sat back in her chair with a quiet breath and started mulling over the methods she could deploy to at least get a look from the boy; anything.

“I’m happy you’ve decided to show, but for future reference, fifteen minutes is my limit. This is your first time, so... I wanted to give you a chance, you know... make sure you didn’t get cold feet or anything. I know going to therapy can be a scary experience, but I’m happy you’ve decided to come-”, she rambled on until her client cut in.

“Oh, I didn’t decide to come. I was forced to come”, were the first words Jaemin aimed at her, eyes narrowed. Even if he hadn’t said anything inherently bad, his pointed timbre made all of his words sound like an insult. “For future reference”, he started, mocking her previous use of the saying, “I won’t be coming back, so might as well not waste both of our times, don’t you think?”

Eleanor’s mouth opened, a sentence on the tip of her tongue and ready to spill out, but she stopped herself and, instead, only got up to retrieve Jaemin’s file from the top of her desk. She flipped through it without any haste as she made her way back to him. “It says here that your mother called to make the appointment. But you’re twenty years old... you’re of legal age. If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to”, Nori tilted her head to the side a little, peering back at her patient.

“But I do”, he replied flatly.

“But you don’t”, she counterattacked, eyebrow quirked in sudden interest.

“You don’t know shit about my life, lady. I don’t wanna be here, who the fuck in their right mind would wanna sit here for an hour and be psycho-analyzed when they’re totally normal?” Jaemin barked back, and Eleanor took note of the way his hands clasped around the armrests of his seat.

“Totally normal like...” King trailed off, scouring further through his file. “Like talking back, being aggressive and instigating a fight at-” She cut her own words short, eyes flickering between Jaemin and his file. “A ball? Did you attend James Houston’s masquerade ball?” She couldn’t hold back a tiny grin at the thought. James just so happened to be someone Eleanor was entirely familiar with, someone she respected and admired. Jaemin knowing him could be her only link to him, or at least a good method to get him to talk.

“Listen, I’m allowed freedom of fucking speech, I don’t have to suck up to everyone I meet and I didn’t instigate shit at the ball”, Moon leaned back in his chair, and Eleanor didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched; this was a touchy subject.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m just reading off my file for now, but I’ll make my own conclusions as I get to know you more and more. Those were the concerns your mother shared with us when booking your appointment. Would you say they’re unfounded?” She brought the end of her pen to her lips, caressed them with it as she awaited an answer.

“I’d say I don’t fucking care what you, or her, think, Eleanor. How much longer do I have to be here?” The younger of the two was getting impatient, it was clear to see in the way he was fidgeting in his seat. He’d switched positions maybe three times in the span of ten seconds.

“Jaemin, your hour just began”, Dr. King glanced down at her watch, then back at him. “Fifty five minutes”, the declaration made her patient sigh deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ, alright. Well... I showed up”, he conceded, letting his head fall back onto the backrest of his chair. Eleanor observed him quietly, unable to bite back a smile.

“You did. I’m glad you did”, she tried to be encouraging, but to no avail.

“That makes precisely one of us”, Moon fished his phone out of his pocket, sitting back up straight. He unlocked it and started typing away, and Eleanor had to admit, this was the first time a patient outright texted during a session.

“Jaemin...? Could you put that away, please?” Despite being annoyed, her tone remained calm, kind. She gazed back and forth between the boy and his phone when he made no movement whatsoever, didn’t even react to her request. “Jaem-”

“The fuck you want? I told you I don’t need this, I’m just here to satisfy my folks, that’s it. I don’t need to talk to you”, he didn’t even spare her a single glance, eyes focused on his phone’s screen.

“I can tell you believe this is pointless, but even the healthiest of people seek out therapy from time to time. It’s a good way to unload, and you seem to have a lot on your mind. I noticed you seemed uncomfortable when I brought up the ball-”

“You didn’t notice shit”, Nori’s patient hissed, and he’d put his phone down to glare at her. That was an improvement... sort of. It surely was better than silence.

“You said you didn’t care, but whatever happened there played a big part in our meeting, so I doubt it was as uneventful as you’re painting it out to be. What happened at the ball?” She tried to pry further, notepad securely in her hands.

“Nothing. Fucking. Happened. Will you just drop it? Who cares about the stupid ball?! It was a shit show. I didn’t have high expectations, and even then it still managed to go below them”, Jaemin threw his hands up in exasperation, his tone lower than before, maybe an unconscious attempt to seem more intimidating.

No matter how much he frowned, huffed and puffed, Eleanor wasn’t buying it. There was something so delicate, so gentle about his gaze, even if he’d done nothing but scowl at her during the entirety of their session so far. His eyes were dark, bordering on black, and they reflected every single source of light in the room, making it look like he was holding entire galaxies behind his irises. They were big and round, evoked innocence, even when squinted with the intent to threaten. His features, although carved and defined, were somewhat soft. Eleanor could only imagine how brightly he shined when smiling. But the more time they spent together, the less she had any hope of ever seeing that smile.

“If you were so unimpressed, why did you attend?” She questioned.

“My parents asked me to, that’s it.”

“Does that mean you don’t know the host personally?” It was difficult to miss the way Jaemin flinched at the mention of James, and Nori made sure to take note of it. She anticipated a response, having gotten used to Jaemin’s rapid answers, but was startled to be met with another bout of silence. “Are you always so diligent in following your parents’ request, Jaemin?” Nothing but more silence, her client’s nails digging into the armrest of his chair. So she tried again. “Um... James, then. You know hi-”

“Can we not fucking talk about Houston? If this is my hour, I’d rather not spend it talking about that fag”, he grumbled, leaving Eleanor speechless.

“That’s a truly awful thing to say. I’d appreciate it if you would refrain from using slurs in my presence... or ever, for that matter.”

“God, why’s everyone so pissy about it? He’s a queer, I’m not about to fucking lie. And I’m not gonna talk about him, either. But, if it’ll stop you from asking; yes, I do know him. Unfortunately. End of discussion”, Moon retorted before she could get a word in.

James was off limits, but why? King would be lying if she said the reasoning behind that animosity didn’t gnaw at her mind for the remainder of their session, but she came up empty regardless.

“Jaemin, I will not tolerate such language here. Don’t you know it’s wrong of you to use those words? Have you not been taught so?”

“Calling them what they are is wrong? So I can’t call you a therapist, I assume? Not that I would to begin with; you’re pretty shit”, Eleanor blinked rapidly, caught off guard by his venomous words.

“Those words are slurs. They’ve been used in the past in a demeaning way, to belittle gay people. And although some LGBTQ+ folks have reclaimed them, it doesn’t give just anyone the right to use them. They are still highly offensive”, Nori tried her best to talk some sense into the boy, but all he did was roll his eyes in reply. “Jaemin... were you aware of that?”

“Yes, I was. Why?” His tone was flat, lacking any interest towards the therapist and her intrusive inquiries.

“...are you homophobic?” She hoped he wouldn’t answer this. Hoped that, in this day and age, homophobes were just a myth. But she knew better than that.

“No, because I’m not afraid of any faggot. Do I dislike them? Do I believe their way of life to be wrong and sinful? Absolutely”, hatred was spilling out of him as if ingrained in his mind, almost rehearsed. Each word oozing malice as he hissed them at Eleanor.

Without her own consent, Dr. King’s eyes had blown wide, left completely speechless by the sudden confession. She counted her blessings that, in twenty-eight years of life, this was the first homophobe she’d ever encountered. Loud and proud, at that. But he was so young. So young to have such a closed mind, to be tainted. She didn’t know whether she felt pity or contempt for the boy. Nonetheless, she swallowed back a few unpleasant words hanging on the tip of her tongue and focused on the task at hand.

“Why?” Jaemin’s head snapped up, somehow taken aback by the sudden question.

“What?”

“Why? Why are you a homophobe?”

“I just told you. Are you fucking deaf on top of being a fraud?” Nori bit her lower lip, feeling her pressure rising as she listened to her client’s insolent taunts.

“No, Jaemin, I am not deaf. You said you disliked them. I just wanna know why.”

“’You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination.’ Leviticus 18:22. Pretty self-explanatory, don’t you think?”, he sat back in his chair, hints of a smile spreading across his lips.

“I know what the Bible says, yes. I’m asking you, Jaemin Moon, why you hate gay people?” She gripped her notepad tighter than necessary, her tone sharp. This only seemed to amuse Moon further.

“Something the matter, doc?” He shifted to be on the edge of his seat, maintaining solid eye contact with Eleanor. This didn’t phase her; he wasn’t the first client to try and intimidate her, far from it.

“Are you dodging my question, Jaemin?” He scoffed at the mere implication this statement held.

“Dodging? Fuck no. I’m just tired of answering the same question over and over again. How many different ways do I have to say ‘I hate fags’ for you to get it?”

“Oh, I get it. What I don’t get, is how you hold such contempt for a minority without having any actual reasons why... I just find that odd”, she raised an eyebrow, and the way Jaemin’s nostrils flared indicated she’d hit a nerve: finally.

“It’s unnatural, isn’t that enough? Guys have dicks, chicks have pussies. A stick and a hole. You put one in the other and boom! A baby. Gay people can’t reproduce-”

“No, but they can adopt. There are millions of children that get abandoned or put up for adoption. And I can tell that ‘breeding’ isn’t the reason for your aversion. All you’ve given me so far has been textbook homophobe, but you’ve yet to give me a single reason why you personally dislike them. So, what’s the reason?” Eleanor grilled him, couldn’t help but notice the way his hands balled into fists. Got him.

“You can’t tell shit, and whatever the fuck my father’s paying you is way overpriced, clearly”, Jaemin leaned down to retrieve his backpack and slinked off his seat, much to Nori’s surprise. “I’m out of here”, he announced.

“Jaem-” She didn’t have time to finish calling out his name that her patient was out the door, leaving with a quite literal bang that shook the walls of her office. Their short, but fiery encounter left Eleanor breathless. She sat in her chair, trying to calm down, for nearly fifteen whole minutes after his departure.

When she was certain her heart wouldn’t jump out of her chest, Nori stood up and paced across her office to her desk, retrieving a half-consumed sage stick and her lighter. She then proceeded to smudge her office for way longer than necessary, until her heart was content and she couldn’t feel Jaemin’s negative energy contaminating her work space. After that, she didn’t linger for a moment longer and decided to head straight home.

Eleanor only made it to the parking lot before her phone started ringing. It was Peneloppe, the secretary they’d only hired a month or two ago. A doll, truly. Maybe a little scatterbrained.

“Um, hi, Dr. King?” Her voice was delicate, yet reluctant.

“Yes, Peneloppe, how can I help?”

“I- I’m sorry I forgot to ask you before you left, but a certain Mr Moon called? And he wanted to know how his son’s session went? I think he said it was um... shoot, uh...”

“Jaemin?” Nori stuffed a hand in her purse in search of her car keys.

“Yes! Yes, that’s the one!”

“I’ll write a report tomorrow-”

“Actually, uh, he’s on the other line? So if it wouldn’t be a bother”, Peneloppe squeaked, embarrassment seeping through her tone. All Eleanor could manage was a sigh as she unlocked her car. She sat down in her seat after popping the door open.

“Okay, well... tell Mr Moon that his son was very aggressive from the get-go, not very open to therapy. He cursed a lot and walked out of his session. Let him know I’ll have a full report tomorrow ready for him, alright?”

No response.

“...Peneloppe?”

“Y-Yes! Sorry, I was writing it down. But um, yes, I got it. I’ll let Mr Moon know. Have a good night, Dr. King!”

“You can call me Eleanor.”

“Eleanor... right. Good night, Eleanor.”

Wednesday, May 8th 2019, 5:55PM Wexler-Carsons Psychotherapy Practice

Although Mrs. Moon had confirmed Jaemin would be attending his second session, Eleanor had her doubts, what with how it went last time. He was late on top of being rude, and generally closed off to the idea of therapy. His dark aura clung to Eleanor for days after, and so that’s why she was only now revisiting her notes from their first session together. She’d tried to put anything Jaemin Moon-related to the furthest corner of her mind, in a desperate attempt to protect her energy from his intensity. And it had worked, for the most part. Today, she felt good. Light. She wasn’t as optimistic about her client showing up, though, but her door swinging open with a loud smack proved her wrong.

A hooded figure, presumably male, strided into her office, even closed the door behind him. Nori rose to her feet, her usual smile plastered to her lips. She couldn’t make out his features, but recognized the backpack to be Jaemin’s.

“Jaemin! I...” she looked over her shoulder at the clock; 5:55PM. “You’re... early. I wasn’t expecting you to show, much less early”, she admitted with a scoff, figured it would be better to be honest with him. Maybe he would even appreciate her humour.

“Yeah? Well, I did”, he spoke, his tone lifeless and dry. Sure, she didn’t know much about him, only what his file and he himself told her. Which, right now, was homophobic young adult with anger issues. But she recalled him being more animated than this at the very least. He was slouched in the seat across from her, head hanging low and his entire frame engulfed in a ridiculously oversized hoodie.

“Would you, um... would you mind taking the hoodie off? I like establishing eye contact with my patients”, Dr. King tried. She couldn’t help but notice the way he recoiled, as if he was about to bark back at her, but stopped himself before it could slip past him. It was followed by a brief silence. “...Jaemin?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay! God...” he grumbled in response as he shuffled in his seat. His hands slipped further out from under his sleeves where they’d been previously hidden, and that was when Nori spotted his bruised knuckles. He was violent, she knew that much. But that didn’t mean the prospect of one of her patients getting hurt delighted her, either. It didn’t mean she expected it to resurface two sessions in. She’d have to address it, she couldn’t not, but he seemed to have crawled further into his shell, if that was even possible. Nori would have to approach him slowly, take it day by day.

His hands were shaky, hesitant, as they came up to pull off his hood, and Eleanor gasped the moment she caught a glimpse of his face. His hair had grown a little since the last time they saw each other, or maybe he just hadn’t groomed. But that wasn’t what horrified her. He was sporting a black eye and a busted lip. It was obvious whoever tended to his injury knew what they were doing, but it was unsightly, nonetheless. Nori didn’t have time to question what she should do that her legs were already carrying her towards her client.

“Jaemin, wha... what happened to you?” Her eyes widened as they scanned his face and his injuries, taking him in. She kept a reasonable distance, afraid of breaking any boundaries that weren’t meant to be broken. But every fiber of her body urged her to hug him, caress his cheek when she saw the way he cast his gaze down, nibbled his lower lip at her inquiry.

“What do you think?” he huffed with a small shake of his head.

“Jaemin... you know you can talk to me”, the softness of King’s voice made Jaemin look up at her, and for the first time, she saw him. Without any standoffish exterior. She gazed into his eyes and saw fear. A young boy in desperate need of help. “A- Anything that’s said here stays between us, you know that, right?” He only nodded to show he understood, but broke eye contact the moment his eyes became slightly glassier than usual. Eleanor took a step back, millions of thoughts rushing in her mind. “Jaemin?”

“...yes?”

“From now on... I’d like to see you two times a week.”

#nosspara #everyone meet burt #are we surprised? no? good. #tw: slurs #tw: abuse #the way this is SO FUCKING LATE is embarrassing #i'll try to speed it up #are we surprised i'm slow? no? good. #i did NOT readproof this bcos it's FOUR MONTHS LATE #SO SUE ME #corrections might be made waaaaay later #for now i just need this to be out

[je-wally-wallace]

Breakthrough, Breakdown, Blackout || Self-Para

'Cause I don't need anyone I don't need anyone I just need everyone and then some I don't need anyone I don't need anyone I just need everyone and t h e n  s o m e

{Contains violence}

Wally was sitting on the livingroom floor of the squatter house, listening to music on his iPod. Music was his favorite way to wind down after a long day. Everyone was in the house except for Rowan and Burns. He hadn’t seen Rowan in weeks, no one had, and frankly he was almost certain she either got arrested, died, or ran away with her weird butch friend. Was he worried? Sure. But if she was still out there, he couldn’t spend all of his energy on her. She would probably just pick a fight with him if he tried. Andrew Burns, on the other hand, he had no concerns about. He was a 28-year-old man, Wally didn’t have to babysit him. But he was curious about what that idiot was up to.

Just as he was about to ask someone where Burns was though, he busted through the front door, almost falling on the floor as he entered. Wally paused his music, got up off the floor, and went over to the man. Burns reeked of alcohol and looked like he was about to throw up. ‘Typical,’ Wally thought to himself.

“Dude, you look like shit,” Wally stated, putting a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “You need me to get you some water?”

“Fuck off, Wallace,” Burns replied, shoving the younger man’s hand away.

“The fuck’s your problem?”

“You’re my fucking problem, shithead!” Burns spat at Wally, and Wally smacked him in retaliation. Diego, who had been whittling a small bear, put his whittling materials down and broke the fight before it could escalate too much.

“Jesus. Andrew, what’s got into you tonight?” Diego asked, glaring at the drunkard until he spoke up.

“I got kicked outta my favorite bar ‘cuz of this motherfucker!” he shouted, stabbing Wally’s chest with his finger.  

Wally smacked his hand away and condescendingly asked, “You sure it wasn’t ‘cause you got too drunk and threw up on the bartender again, dumbass?”

“Fuck you! It’s ‘cause your stupid ass stole shit from there and he knows I hang with you!”

“Hey, shit for brains, you like having food to eat and water to drink? Sometimes you gotta take some risks...”

Burns, not wanting to hear any more of Wally’s talk, pushed Diego onto the floor, then grabbed Wally by the shirt, pinning him to the wall. Everything happened so quickly that Wally didn’t even have time to react before finding himself pressed against the wall and his best friend on the ground, unable to get up. “Shut the fuck up, Wallace! You- you act like you’re the fuckin’ boss of us, but no one wants you here!”

No one wants you here. Wally tried not to let words get to him, but it was with those words that he snapped. He kneed Burns in the groin, and proceeded to kick him in the head until he bled. No amount of intervention from any of the dozen or so people in the house could stop him from beating the living daylights out of Andrew Burns.

The next thing he knew, his legs had taken him from Rosewood to Greensville. He made his way to the park and found a tree to sleep under. He didn’t want to go to anyone’s house at this hour. He didn’t need anyone. People needed him... Or did they? Did his homeless friends really need him for survival? Or did he need them to feel like less of a lonely wreck?

#nosspara #Diego Sandoval #Andrew Burns #tw: violence

[finity-andbeyond]

Mother’s Day 2019 |♥\

Miles’ Mother’s Day gifts for Bonita, sans a card, and tucked into his weekly, non-negotiable “payments”, after hours upon hours of choosing the “right” charms to give her for his brothers her sons - an [Infinity] Fox and an Ocean [pearl].

Sunday May 12th, 2019

“Goodnight, Mommy.” Bonita was exhausted. She’d only gotten in from work an hour or so ago, and had had very little time to spare before her youngest son went to sleep. Thankfully today he and Infinity had had a pretty chilled out day, so she hadn’t returned to her youngest in tears and his brother in one of his moods. As she hugged Ocean to her, his legs across her lap as he nuzzled into her, she smiled and took a moment to breathe in the faint smell of no tears shampoo and toothpaste that lingered around him. She murmured against his scalp as she pressed ample kisses to it “Goodnight, mi amor.” she patted his back gently to tell him he could get up, and as he gave her a sleep smile and followed his brother (who had been waiting in the doorway) to the stairs, she called out “sweet dreams.” Sweet dreams. Such a sweet gesture. For years Ocean’s night times had been disturbed through the fierce stand off’s between her and his father, but no more. Now they were happy. 

She exhaled a tired sigh and stood up, rounding her couch and going over to the side table to check if her son had bothered to get the mail. It seemed that he had. The one thing she hated about having her own home was bills. She had never paid a dime for an electricity bill before January, and now they came every other month. Bills, bills and more bills. Then her eye caught something. Familiar writing–Bonita on a white envelope. She sighed in frustration as she picked it up and ripped the top open. That boy would be the death of her. Well, no. That was a lie. Her weakness had always been her sons. It was one of the ways that Jaxon was able to get around her all those years. It had been even harder to even consider leaving when Indie was young. She would’ve been leaving him like a lamb to the slaughter with nobody there to mediate. 

She still didn’t love the fact he felt he had to give her money though.

She knew she shouldn’t be. She knew he wasn’t paying her for all those years she’d been with his dad. She knew he didn’t mean any offence, and none had been taken by her…but she knew the realities of living in a motel. She knew he was by no means doing well enough that he could afford to haemorrhage money every week. He was just doing what he always had done. He was taking care of her and his brothers. She had told him over and over again that she was doing okay. That she didn’t need his money. Truth be told, she really could’ve done with the extra cash, but she just wished she could’ve gotten it from her cabròn ex. That was a pipe dream though. Jaxon made even less than she did. She had seldom ever been able to even get a quarter for a load of laundry when they were together, and she doubted he’d suddenly grown more generous now that she had left him and moved to a different state where he had no hold on her anymore. Child support simply wasn’t going to happen, and she would never ask Infinity for money–she didn’t know where from for certain, but she knew his money wasn’t coming from anywhere or anything she wanted her and Ocean to be associated with. 

The envelope, as expected was stuffed with green bills. She had no doubt that it was the same amount that she got every single time, and just like every single time, she would take the money to the bank the next day and deposit it into the savings account she’d set up in Ocean’s name the day after she’d gotten the first one. She knew Indiana of course would tell her to use it on bills or groceries, but they were okay on those. She had very little of her own savings left, but those were hers, and she wasn’t about to replace it with money that was rightfully for her children. Fin could handle himself financially, but Ocean was still so little. She thought the idea of him having enough money to go to college one day if he wanted to was probably the best one she had ever heard. She had been making a point of depositing whatever she had left of her last paycheck on the day she got the new one into the account. In it was more money than anyone in her little family had ever had. And they’d gotten it legitimately. Nobody could say they weren’t making progress.

Just as she was about to put the envelope down, she noticed something tucked into the side. Two somethings. Her brow furrowed, and she pulled them out. Two small gift bags hung from her fingers by their draw strings. She placed the envelope down and went to sit back on the couch, pulling them open and dropping the small charms into her palm, at which point she sighed a sad sigh, meanwhile her lips turned up into a melancholic smile, and her eyes filled with tears. Her sweet Indie. That boy thought so little of himself, but had no idea how special he really was. He had only gotten sweeter with time. When he was a little boy she used to tickle him and kiss his face and tell him he was so sweet that she could just eat him up. Now he was far too big for that obviously…but his heart hadn’t faltered. Not even for a moment.

She put the charms down on the arm of the couch and wiped at her eyes before retrieving her phone. It was getting late, and she had no doubt he was having a hard day as it was. How could he not be? His mother, who he had loved and who he had yearned for all those years when Jaxon was being a spiteful asshole and while she was powerless to stop it…she’d died in a horrific way..and he’d found her. She had no doubt that image was as clear in his mind all these years later as it was the day it happened. She didn’t want to overwhelm him, or take away what was most certainly a day not meant for her. She pressed on his contact and waited. The phone rang and rang, but eventually went to his automated, mechanical voicemail. The beep heard, and as she wiped her eyes again, she spoke “Hi. Hi, baby. It’s me. It’s about a quarter to ten and I just got home from work, but I opened your envelope and I just wanted to call and say thank you. Um..I hope you’re doing as okay today as you can be, but take care of yourself and I’ll see you maybe one day this week for something to eat.” she paused “I love you, Indiana. Very very much. And I am so proud of you. Of who you are, and of the man you’ve become. Thank you for my beautiful charms. That’s..um..that’s all I wanted to say. Te quiero más que a mi vida. Bye, sweetheart.” 

With her phone now hung up, she retrieved the coins and the envelope and headed to her room to change into her pyjamas. The next day however, with her shift scheduled for the afternoon/evening she went into Roseville in her beat up car. She took her charm bracelet (a gift from years ago bought with Fin’s money one mother’s day) to have the clasp on it repaired, and while she was there purchased one more charm: a silver heart with a deep blue stone in it.

Indie’s birth stone.

#que bonita; #something in the waters; #nosspara #self; #asks; #submission #md19;

[winklewinklelittlest4r]

Park Bi-Weekly Dinner.

Who: Nathan, Asher, Jasper and their family. Where: Asher’s Car, The Park Family House. Warnings: Triggers with abandonment.

“Nathan, get in the car--” Asher muttered as he stared at the newly teal dyed male. Leaning on his car with his arms crossed he furrowed his brows as Nathan shook his head.

“Nah-- nope,” Nathan muttered. Causing both Asher and Jasper to groan as they rolled their eyes at their friend.

“Get in the fucking car or Sawyer will drive up here and drag you back to Jacksonville himself-- and he's on a date with his girlfriend, do you really want to open that can of worms?” Asher uttered. Nathan winced at that image as he pursed his lips. Did he really want his best friend raining down on him with so much guilt, glaring, and yelling. Yeah he could deal with that.

“Nope--” he stated again, eyeing Asher as if to challenge the much older, stronger male.

“I can kill you with one finger, you want to try me?” Nathan mimicked the male annoyingly so before he let out a yell when he felt himself being hoisted over Asher's shoulder comically so it sent Jasper into a fit of giggles.

“You're annoying when you're depressed,” Jasper stated softly as Nathan was shoved into the back seat next to him.

“Lock the doors before he can escape!” Asher pointed to Jasper who activated the kid locks. Nathan tried to open the door to run.

“Kidnapping is illegal!” Nathan yelled, trying to crawl into the front seat as Jasper wrapped around Nathan holding him back as Asher got into the front seat.

“I'm pardoned,” Asher muttered putting the car into drive as Kinsley and Sage waved from their front yard. Nathan rolling down the window as he glared at Kinsley as they drove past. Kinsley sneakingly giving him the finger behind Sage's back who thought the whole scene was fun and games. “You are worse than my son when I take him to the doctors-- you know that?”

“It's what I'm here for,” he muttered with a sigh, leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms, tugging his hoodie over his head with a small pout. Eyeing the passing buildings and tree as they got onto the freeway towards Jacksonville. The car was silent except for the faint hum of the radio. Jasper was intently reading his book and Asher's eyes on the road, though ever so often he peered back to Nathan whose eyes seemed to get glassy the further they got from Greensville till something clicked in him the moment they got far enough as if it were safe to cry. Letting a few shy tears fall down his cheek, when he thought no one was looking.

Asher stayed silent for the next thirty-ish minutes before he heard a soft mutter leaving Nathan's lips. His heart aching for the male as the words took a moment to become clear. “How come people find beauty in abandoned places but not abandoned people,” his voice uttered softly, using his sleeve to wipe his face as he caught both the Park's attention now. “It's so dumb, a place can't feel pain-- yet it's beautiful when it's over grown and vacant-- but broken, abandon, vacant people are a hindrance of some sort. So easy to be tossed aside. No one takes pictures of broken people but run down mansions are littered on every damn edgy fucking blog you can think of,” his voice tapering off as his rant came to close.

“Because there's a lack of humanity in abandoned objects that makes people feel less guilty-- but broken and abandoned people aren't any less beautiful in comparison. They're more in fact. Buildings can't show the strength a person does when they've gone through hell and come out the fire again. Buildings can't fight back, fight through, fight for something-- they lack that humanity. So sure there's beauty in those things but the real beauty is what humans can endure and come out on the other end like a phoenix from the fire,” he murmured. Peering into the rear view mirror as he saw Jasper gently rubbing Nathan's back whose head was hung down now. “Nathan talk to us--” Asher muttered softly as the male shook his head with a small sigh. Moving to cover his head more with his hood, leaning his head on the window and closing his eyes. Causing Asher to sigh again.

Once to his parents place, Asher parked behind Sawyer's car, getting out as Nathan and Jasper followed. The three walking into the house, Jasper and Asher were engulfed in their mom's arms before she tugged Nathan into her as well, as if she was one of the many boys she gave birth too. “I'm so glad you boys made it, Asher was thinking you weren't going to be here for the bi-weekly dinner, you haven't missed one in three years,” Boyeong cooed as she cupped Nathan's face. Kissing his forehead.

“Sorry, Omma,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around the woman, who held him tightly for some time. So much so minutes later they pulled apart and they were alone. “I'm just not feeling that great.”

“Nathan,” she cooed, running her thumbs under his eyes, gently wiping his face. “I love you like my own. I've seen you from your lowest to your highest. Whatever has you in the dumps you'll shine through it again. Okay? Have I ever once lied to you?” Nathan shook his head with a sheepish grin. “This too shall pass,” she offered out causing the male to nod. “Good, go visit Sawyer, he's been missing you like crazy. He's in the basement watching television,” Nathan nodded again kissing Boyeong's cheek, moving to the stairs, he jogged down to see Sawyer laying on the couch.

“Asher said you had a date,” Sawyer scoffed with a small laugh.

“We broke up this morning, he knew that,” Sawyer muttered softly as he patted the seat next to him. Nathan moving in, fitting against Sawyer's side easily.

“Pity-- what was wrong with this one?” Nathan questioned as he snuggled against Sawyer's side.

“She was being annoying about my family again. I gave her all my time but this one dinner had her acting like I was cheating or something, far to into herself.” Nathan nodded some as his eyes stayed on the television. Blinking a bit as he felt his face move with the urge of Sawyer's finger. Blinking a bit as Sawyer moved in, Nathan's face moved away.

“Not today-- I'm just not wanting it,” Sawyer nodded some as he respected what Nathan wanted, settling in next to him again as he turned back to the TV. They sat in silence till Boyeong called for them to help set the table. Getting up he let Sawyer hold his hand as they walked up the stairs though separating to set the table with the help of Jasper. They all took their spots and soon the table was filled with the entire Park family. Laughing ensued as well as conversation and for a moment or two of even longer. Nathan felt like he could let his weight lift from his shoulders and enjoy the time spent with the rest of them. Just for a moment though.

#nosspara #:jasper #:asher #it's short and sweet and gives you an idea of what Nathan's relationship with the Park's are like

[justsamanderson]

Birthday Call | Self-Para

Date: Monday, May 6th, 2019

Time: 10:30 EDT / 7:30 PDT 

Location: Sam’s apartment in Greensville, NC / The Anderson family home in Paradise, NV

Sam took off of work for his 21st birthday, but didn’t do much to celebrate. He stayed in bed late, treated himself to some diner pancakes, and had a beer with Kayin, but that was the extent of his celebration. 21 was supposed to be a big year, but everything he did felt small and inconsequential. Right when he was getting ready to call it a night, his phone started ringing. “Mom.” He didn’t think he’d hear from anyone but Julia and Nana that day, let alone have his family be the ones calling first. Once he picked the phone up, he heard two voices, his mother and his sister. 

He could hear his sister giggling, and his mom’s voice counting, “one, two, three,” then the two, in unison, sang, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Sammy. Happy birthday to you!” 

They couldn’t see him, but he was grinning from ear to ear. Once the song was finished, he said, “Thanks guys.”

“Of course, it’s your birthday,” Melissa replied back. “How’s your day going, sweetie?”

“It was okay. I ate pancakes, I hung out with Kayin, nothing too fancy. How’s everything with you guys?”

“We’re good, just finished eating dinner--”

Julia interrupted their mom, yelling into the phone, “Did you have cake?!” 

Sam laughed at her burst, answering, “No, no birthday cake for me. Put Mom back on the phone, will ya?” As much as he loved talking to his sister, he had spoken to her earlier that day after their Nana picked her up from the bus stop, and he rarely got to speak to his mom. 

“Okay okaaaaay. Love you, Sammy.” 

“Love you too, Jules.”

After the phone had been exchanged, he heard his mom say, “And I love you too, Sam. I miss you.” 

“Oh, um, I miss you too. Is- is Dad around?” He probably wasn’t, but it was worth a shot. 

“One minute, let me see if he’s still awake. Jack!” Her calling out his name meant that he had to be home. For a moment, all Sam could hear on the other line was footsteps. He hadn’t spoken to his father in almost a year, hearing a happy birthday wish from him would’ve meant a lot. But instead, what he heard was, 

“I don’t wanna talk to that bastard!” 

“Oh, sorry Sam, he fell asleep. He had a really long shift,” she lied, hoping her son hadn’t heard what was said. But he did hear, and he kept hearing it in his mind, over and over. 

“It’s fine...” He pauses and lets out a fake yawn. “I’m pretty tired myself. I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Night, Mom. It was nice talking to you.”

“Oh, okay... Goodnight, Sam. I lo--” Before she could finish her sentence, he had already hung up the phone. 

His dad hated him, he really hated him. His own father of all people. He wasn’t ‘just in a bad mood’ when he called Sam a disappointment and said he wished he had abandoned him like his Nana insisted, he genuinely meant all of it. That night, for the first time in what felt like forever, he cried himself to sleep, and longed to go back to the time when Jack was proud of him. 

#nosspara #I made this headcanon and felt the need to share it

[clareavcnleigh]

February 13th 2019 

Standing in front of her dresser mirror, Clare looked at her reflection. For some reason she didn’t like the way that she looked. Blinking, she turned to the side to examine her stomach area and then the rest.

Humming, brows lurched forward, she heard talking from outside her window. Walking towards her window she peered out and saw their neighbor again chatting away with her father.

“Again?” She said but didn’t move from her spot.

As she watched she couldn’t help but get that same feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sick. And it happened anytime she saw Amy. 

You’re being dumb. She thought to herself but as she saw the woman place a hand on her father’s arm as they both laughed she pulled the blinds shut and turned around in a huff, teary eyed. 

It was wrong. It was all wrong.

Getting up on her bed and under the covers she cried herself to sleep. The next morning she woke up, still bitter and still lost in her thoughts, that her father had taken notice. But of course he didn’t miss anything when it came to his daughter.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Clare. You haven’t been yourself the past few months. Since Christmas time.”

Clare rolled her eyes and Owen just looked at her with an incredulous expression. 

“I have to go. Going to be late for work.” Clare tried her best to not let her voice falter as she got up and grabbed her coat and headed towards the door. He followed of course, handing her his keys. “For my car. I’ll take yours into the shop today. It’d make me worry less if you aren’t in that death box, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And Clare?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re going to talk tonight when you get home.”

Clare turned around then, anger flaring in her eyes. “No! I don’t want to talk! I don’t want to be here! I hate it here, do you understand? We only moved here because you got offered a job and back home there’s too many memories. Of the people bullying me, you and your failed business, and - and mom!” She shook her head then as a lump formed in her throat. “...I can’t. Just--don’t!”

She pulled herself away from his reach and ran out the door and into her car and away from her house. She was homesick, she missed her mother, she hated the new woman catching her father’s attention and she didn’t want him to forget her mother because it really felt like he would, and she was lonely. Her thoughts were a mess and she just wanted to rest. 

Driving somewhere down the highway, she parked on the side and gripped the steering wheel tightly, tears trickling down her face. She had always held so much inside, she didn’t know any other way. But when her mother was around she could always talk to her, she had been Clare’s best friend. With her gone it just felt like a never ending hole in her heart and life. Nothing helped. Not even work lately. 

Her thoughts deceiving her once more, Clare ended up crying again. Head on the steering wheel, sobbing her heart out like some teenage rom com she hated, it was when a truck driver blew his horn that she snapped out of it. 

“Ew, I probably look disgusting!” She sobbed out, wiping her nose. 

Trying to relax herself for the drive back didn’t work any as she kept shaking but she managed somehow and pulling up in front of Renee’s Antiques she debated for a good minute or two before deciding she didn’t want to go inside. Instead she rode to the forest. 

It was there that she found some sort of peace. And she stayed there until well in to the night before returning home and quietly getting into bed. 

#nosspara #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: depressing stuff? #she's just being a teenager i guess lmao #self para

[riaserrell]

When the Party’s Over || Self-Para || Halloween Night

Quiet when I'm coming home and I'm on my own And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that Yeah I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

She wasn’t sure why she agreed to go to the Conroy’s Halloween party. Most of the party’s attendees were people she either didn’t know or didn’t care for. Jayden was the only person there she really liked, and he disappeared as soon as he laid eyes on his boyfriend. She tried to converse with people and listen to the shitty music that was playing, but neither of those things helped. The reality was that she was all alone in this house full of people. It was just her and her thoughts.

She didn’t want to think about the things that were bothering her, about Rowan or Kevin or Coby, but especially not Kevin. She had been having this recurring nightmare in which he came back to Greensville and killed off everyone she loved one by one, leaving her to die alone. Was this likely to happen? No. But thinking about it was terrifying nonetheless, and she really didn’t want to think about it, so she started drinking. 

One drink lead to another, and another, and another. She lost count of how many she had. Deep down, she knew this wasn’t good, but her conscious brain didn’t care in the moment. When the party was over, she didn’t go home. Somehow she ended up at another party in a place she’d never been to surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everything after that was a blur, but by some miracle, she didn’t wind up dead in a ditch, but rather in a stranger’s bed. Little did she realize that this stranger was someone she’d been yearning to find all along. 

#nosspara #tw: alcohol #tw: death sort of? #it's in reference to a dream so no one's actually dying just a disclaimer

[evacole]

|| Self Para || December 2018

It was a rainy day in December. The house was empty, and Eva was sat on the armchair in the living room, looking out the window. She held her cup of tea in her hands, warming her fingers as she watched the world go by. Whether it was the rain, or the time of year, she had awoken with a sadness tugging at her heart. She hated days like this. She felt guilty for even feeling a tinge of sadness, when she had no real reason to be like this. For the first December in a while, she had stability in her life. Christian was no longer simply her best friend, he was the boyfriend she had longed for him to be for many years. He had his own place, and he so kindly put a roof over her head. She could fall asleep in his arms and night and not worry about him having left her by the morning. She had even found work in a local cupcake shop, so she was still earning over the holiday period. Everything was going well, and she was happy. At least, she was, until she had awoken that morning.

Her mouth had been so dry when she awoke. Her heart heavy. Her lungs tight, making her feel like she couldn’t quite breathe properly. It wasn’t until she had gotten up and given herself time to ponder over her feelings that it twigged what today was - today was different from the other days.

It was Jason Lamotti’s birthday.

She hadn’t thought it was possible for her heart to be any heavier, but the guilt of this realisation made it feel like it was in her stomach. Why, after the year and a half it had been since the demise of their relationship, did he still have this sort of power over her? Why, when she had the most loving and most wonderful boyfriend she could ever imagine, did a piece of her heart ache not knowing how the other male was doing?

The last time the two had spoken was almost a year ago, when he had come back to town and they had accidentally bumped into each other. It was a night that was etched into her brain. Jason had asked her if the two of them were okay, and she had tried to lie and say she was fine, because she knew the damage telling him the truth would do. But, like the open book she always had been with him, he saw right through her words and looked at her eyes; he saw the pain so evident in them. Whilst he had offered to give her his new number, so she could talk to him if she needed him, he had known what a terrible idea it would have been. The drunken calls she had been attempting to make, the missing you texts...they would’ve continued on into the new year, and that wouldn’t have helped either of them.

Still, it didn’t change that she knew how hard of a month December always had been for him. It didn’t change that, once upon a time, she had vowed to make his Decembers easier. Yet this year, rather than spend his birthday with him and try and do something to raise his spirits, she was alone, and she had no idea what he was doing. Who knows, maybe he wasn’t alone. Maybe, like her, he had found someone else. Or maybe he was doing everything he could to distract himself from what the month of December made him feel.

Her phone felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket. Her fingertips began to tingle, itching to just send him one message, just one. What harm would it do? 

A lot. 

She knew it wasn’t fair on Christian - hat if she messaged Jason, she would be crossing a line and he didn’t deserve it being crossed. And truthfully, she knew it wasn’t fair on herself. That, despite that bit of her heart aching to know he was doing okay, she was worth more than the man who had shattered it. So, with a sigh, she turned her phone off and moved it to another room, before returning to the living room and sticking the television on. No one would need to know how close she came to texting her ex. If Christian picked up on her mood, she would play it off as simply her time of the month. What mattered was that she loved Christian, and cared about him. She would never jeopardise what she had with him. But she did miss Jason. As much as she wished she didn’t, she did.

#self para; #nosspara

[aleks-volkov]

Eyes on the Prize | Self-Para

Tuesday, August 14th, 10:30 pm. That was the designated meeting time for the race. He first heard about the local drag racing scene from his friend Rick a few months prior. At first, Aleks only watched the races, not only because he didn’t have his own car, but also because Rick’s friend Trumell had threatened him if he were to race against Rick. But after Rick skipped town, the other guys were looking for someone new to race against, and Aleks jumped at the opportunity. 

He had borrowed his upstairs neighbor’s car for the night. Mark was a nice guy and didn’t think Aleks was the type of person to get in trouble; he just thought Aleks was a kid who wanted to go out with his friends for the night. Though somewhat true, he failed to mention to Mark that he was going out to participate in a drag race. What Mark and Mitch didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, granted, as long as he didn’t get caught. But being caught didn’t even make his list of worries. 

Some of the other guys thought that a 2016 Nissan Altima was a strange choice for a racing car, and it was, but the lack of a real race car wasn’t a deterrent for him. He had been watching these guys race since April, he knew the track and he knew who he was up against. He was determined to beat everyone because he really needed that prize money; he’d been saving up money for a while-- he had accumulated a lump sum from a combination of money gifted to him by his family on holidays and his birthday, and money he’d earned by selling things he wasn’t using online and performing an assortment of off-the-books manual labor jobs around town-- for a used car he found online, and if he could win this money tonight, he’d finally be able to afford it. 

It was 10:59 pm and the race was about to start. They always started exactly half an hour after the designated meet-up time, so if you were late, you were shit out of luck. Aleks was so excited that he showed up ten minutes before the meet-up time. He had everything ready. The car’s gas tank was full and he had white noise playing from the AUX. He knew the people he was up against and was confident that he’d be able to out-smart them. Once the race begun, he slammed on the gas pedal and felt the burst of adrenaline he’d been seeking. After months and months of being in this boring town, there was finally something to give him meaning. He was able to execute his strategy of distracting the other drivers to perfection and win the race, much to everyone’s surprise. It wasn’t a surprise to him, but he was glad things had actually gone according to his plan.  

#nosspara #I didn't know how to write this but I've wanted it to happen for a while now #I hope this isn't shit

[flynn-lawes]

blur. |*\

“Having a daughter makes you see things in a different way. This is my only girl. So I don’t care what it takes to protect her. You can call it what you want to call it. As long as you treat her the same way I treat her, like my princess, I don’t mind.”

Zora’s room in his house was starting to come together. He had gone with his mother to find wallpaper for it, and they had settled on the fact that not only would she never have the usual shitty pink with ballerinas they had for girls, but that instead her room would be light blue. Flynn had rigged up one of those lights that projected stars onto the ceiling, and switched the light switch to a dimmer. It made the room cosy for whenever his daughter went to bed. This is what he was thinking as he laid on her newly converted toddler bed with her. The thing was tiny, but it just so happened that he was too. Which worked out well, as Zora laid with her head on his chest and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt while he read her a bedtime story. Every so often his eyes would flit down to her to see if she’d fallen asleep, but she never did.She loved to be read to, and especially by her dad, who was particularly enthusiastic about doing so. Flynn just figured that now that he was able to read, that he should take care to do so. His daughter lapped up every word he spoke to her, and would point excitedly to the pictures in the books he had painstakingly chosen with her mother to ensure Zora would grow up the way they wanted her to. Not that it mattered anymore.

“..Goodnight, to the old lady whispering hush..goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.” as he finished the last book of the night (the fifth overall) he sighed tiredly and placed it on her bedside table, and shuffled down with an arm around Zora to pull her down too. He pulled the blankets over them both and pulled her to his chest. His daughter however pulled back, looking up at him with confused eyes “Mama?” he never thought that he would ever have to take a hit from his daughter, but that one got him right in the chest. Especially when he thought of where Zora’s mother was right at that moment. Sighing, he kissed her forehead and shook his head “No mama tonight, Zo. Just me.” her eyes seemed to widen, and her eyes welled up. They were about two seconds away from a full on fit. “Hey, Zo. Look at daddy.” the little girl’s stubbornness battled with her curiosity for a moment before she did so. He pulled her to him and blew a raspberry into her cheek, which elicited a loud giggle and a squirmy toddler, which put both Zora and her dad at ease. As her giggles started to quiet, and she stretched sleepily, he kissed the top of her head and held her again, one hand rubbing circles against her back. He thought that she was going to fall asleep quickly, but when he looked down she was still awake, staring at him expectantly. He realised quickly what she wanted

“Zo...listen. Mama had to...mama had to go away for a little while. So you’re going to live with me and Grandma Alba from now on.” the look she gave him was one of half confusion. Sometimes he forgot her age. He knew she understood that Billie was gone, but he wasn’t sure she understood that it was going to be a permanent thing. “You and me...we’re gonna be okay. I swear. I’m going to take care of you, Zora. Guess what? You’re gonna come to see Daddy at work. And you’ll see Uncle Isaac and Uncle Jon..and then you’re gonna start going to daycare and playing...doesn’t that sound fun?” By this point he was fairly sure the little girl had stopped listening, as he heard her snuffling “A lot of things are gonna change, Zo. And I know that’s scary. I mean, shit I’m scared too..but we’re gonna be alright. I swear.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head “It’s you and me against the world.”

#drabble #nosspara #para #self

[finity-andbeyond]

birthday blues | 2019l

      “Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.”

May 9th, 2019

Greensville, North Carolina

                                                                                                        Infinity is twenty-four.

____________________________________________________________________________________

                                                   chronologically after this

__________________________________________________________________________________

Keep walking, Infinity.

It was almost as though the devil himself was after him. He supposed it was close. What in the hell was he thinking?

As he realised he’d wandered further than he’d meant to—almost to the town’s border now..he found himself come to a gradual stop. How on earth had he gotten this far? How had he walked all this way and not been aware of it? How had his heart locked itself behind so many layers of steel that having this card in his pocket felt like an anchor dragging him down to sea?

The card..

He pulled it from his pocket, the envelope crumpled now. Still, his name rang true on the front “Fin.” His brother had, in his life called him by a variety of names, but Fin has been the one he’d chosen for himself. Infinity was a pretty awful name—Infinity Fox even worse..but Fin.. that was okay. When he told people he was called ‘Fin’ they never assumed it was with one ‘N’. That would make it obvious it was short for something. No. Fin worked the best..but even that had been a transition for his family and his mother had never gotten onboard with that particularly. She to that day still stubbornly called him by his full name, and paired that with his middle name when she was pissed. Guess he had to have gotten that particular genetic gift from somewhere.

That’s not where you got it from..

He really hated that stupid voice in his head.

It was true though. It would probably be difficult for Greensvillians who had only known them since the end of January to see, but to his mother, to (he begrudgingly supposed) their asshole of a sperm donor, to everyone they’d known all their lives back in Florida, many of the middle Waters child’s characteristics could be traced back to his brother. To the man who had raised him when he’d been a child himself. To the child who had changed his diapers, the boy who would sit by his crib, stubborn as an ox until his brother fell asleep and held his hands as he mastered walking. To the preteen who got him ready for school every morning when he had whined and cried that he wanted to stay in bed. The boy who, when he should have been just on the cusp of becoming a high schooler was failing classes so he could catch up on what he needed to to make sure Fin’s education was uninterrupted. To the teenager who had lost himself in the toxic mix of trying to do his best to keep his brother safe, while having nothing really in his reach to help. Who moved from stealing lucky charms and cold medicine to cars just so he could add some money to his family’s pot.

Every part of Fin that he allowed people to see: his stubbornness, his sarcasm, his wit, his quick thinking, his ease in adapting, his capacity to be a rude asshole..they were all Indie. He had seen the ugly side of his brother and emulated it..but then there was the other side too.

His care for people, his unwavering generosity, his carnal need to protect the ones he loved furiously, and his sweet heart..they’d all come from his brother too—albeit probably with a little of his mother too. Many of the things Fin caught himself doing were just variations of things his brother had done years before. All those nights where he’d stayed up to talk to Abbie when she’d been having a hard time coping with her own demons when it was his only day off ‘work’ when he could actually sleep through the night… Indie, staying diligently at his side when he got chickenpox and catching them himself. Staying at the foot of her bed all night with a baseball bat on nights she couldn’t sleep for fear of things that went bump in the night…Indie, pulling back his covers when Fin was a child and grumbling that they weren’t called ‘bad dreams’ that they were ‘nightmares’ but letting his wriggly, cold feet ridden sibling cuddle up next to him anyway. His surprise at himself when Ocean had gotten sick that time and his instinct (once Indiana had arrived) was to take care of him, to protect him..him limp in Indie’s arms as the eldest Waters ran as fast as his legs would carry him the fifteen blocks to the hospital after he was attacked by a dog..the remorse he felt for things he had done…

No. Don’t go there, Fin.

Everything in him wanted to turn around and go back..he’d be..he’d have left the park by then..surely.. he wouldn’t be waiting in case his brother came back…he..

Stop. Go back.

He was trying. Every part of him wanted to be able to let it go but something in him flashed red like a stop sign made out of neon lights. No. Not a stop sign. A sign that flashed one word.

…remember.

……remember.

……..REMEMBER.

If he could’ve, he’d have screamed in frustration. Let out a load of expletives and cursed the world that had done this to him. But he had to take responsibility for his own shit. And he knew some of it was his fault. Most of it, actually. This rage monster he’d been raising all these years was the culprit. His own anger, his own pain, his own disgust at himself for letting it go on for so long. It felt like his swan song.

Would they ever get back? At this point he wasn’t sure. It had been so long since the two brothers had shared a genuine moment of kindness, and the one they’d just encountered had knocked him back onto his ass.

You hate him.

No, I don’t..

He could no more hate Indie than he could sprout wings and fly (a super power he had long wished for coincidentally). Hating his brother would be hating a part of himself.  He had been born to be his mother’s son, and he had been born to be Indie’s brother. Of that, he was certain. But then how could he let things go this far?

The day that Indiana tried to convince Fin that he had slept with his girlfriend, Fin at first had laughed him off. Confident at first, but that laughter began to falter. He really was persistent. The more times he had to tell Fin, the less patient his tone was. Something more angry had grown. Frustration perhaps. He had, after all been trying to convince him since the relationship had first began that she was unfaithful-

You’re justifying what he did?

No!

He couldn’t. He could never. He knew there would always be a part of him, no matter what the future held that would always never really understand what possessed his brother to do it. He must’ve known. He had to have known. Fin’s body shook. The unwelcome image—the one he’d been faced with when his brother told him in egregious detail of the birth mark on the inside of Ashley’s inner thigh. The birth mark nobody but him should’ve seen. The image of his girlfriend and his brother-

   No.

When had it gotten cold? His body shivered as though there was a chill in the night, but as he looked up the sky was clear. It was the spring, heading into the summer. The days were getting longer and although the sun was beginning to set, it was still light-ish outside. Another year of birthdays done, and he still hadn’t opened his card.

 Fin.

His brother had underlined his name. If he thought hard enough he’d remember past birthdays. Cards every year filled with the sentiment of the season. This year he’d gotten less of course, but that was what he wanted. He hadn’t bothered telling Abbie about his growing another year older. It wasn’t of importance. He’d gotten cards from his mother and from Ocean along with a small few presents; with Bonita promising that at the weekend they’d have a special dinner complete with a cake. She’d had a long shift today while Ocean went to before and after school club. It was a set up he and his older brother had dealt with plenty in their own youth, and he knew it well.

Stop stalling.

His finger slipped underneath the envelope’s lip and he ripped along the seam. He didn’t pay the front of the card much mind, instead pulling out the card. The envelope still felt heavy, but he supposed he’s get to that later. Maybe it was picture of Indie flipping him the bird.  

                                                   Dear Finny,

                                               Happy birthday.

                                                 Love, Indie.

His hands were shaking..when did his hands start shaking? He hadn’t been aware of it but it had to have begun sometime he supposed. Those words..that nickname.

                 Finny. 

How long had it been since he’d been called that? Bonita never had, Ocean he figured probably didn’t know, and Jaxon..well, the less said about him the better.

Finny had been Indie exclusive. A name he’d been given while he was still an infant, when Indie had been unable to pronounce ‘Infinity’ which, he supposed was fair enough.

FinnyFinnyFinny..

How many times had he been called that in his life? He wouldn’t be able to count if he tried. Thousands, perhaps. Even once he grew old enough to have full command of the English language, Indiana had still regularly reverted to calling his baby brother Finny. It was a term of endearment. It was his name. A secret thing that was just for them. He had always loved that name. He still did, even though he was far too big for it. Memories of it being called out to him, of it being half laughed as he held onto the merry-go-round and ran as fast as he could as Indie finally conceded and allowed him to do the pushing for once. Memories of it being used to scold him when he poured the last portion of lucky charms they had into the bathroom sink along with Jaxon’s shaving cream, water and a whole host of other things he shouldn’t have had access to…

“It’s okay, Finny. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

No. No, no, no.

“Indie, I’m so cold..”

No.

He was not going there.

He envelope felt as heavy as the lump in his throat. Clearing it as though it would make it go away, he put the card down on top of the trash can that was a few steps away, his phone atop of it to stop it flying away and turned the envelope over. Two green watch shaped objects fell into his hand, to his confusion. He dug in the envelope and pulled out the next sheet of paper, and immediately felt tears pool in his eyes.

That asshole.

Oh Indie..

Three passes to the happiest place on earth. The memories of Kissimmee, unwelcome as they had been in every other situation (that day was a memory he repressed with every fibre of his being)..suddenly engulfed him like a warm hug. He remembered. He’d kept his promise.

He was vaguely aware of tears coursing down his cheeks, the dam of emotion broken now as his eyes scanned the page over and over again. Words jumped out, words that he could read but held no meaning. Only one word has meaning and it was a name. The name of one of the two people he desperately wanted to go with him..but couldn’t. Not because of prior engagements…because of Fin’s own pigheadedness.

He wouldn’t want to go anyway.

His frustration got the better of him. Now conscious of the tears that were propelling themselves from him like lemmings, he turned and in his frustration, kicked the trash can as hard as he could with a frustrated yell of ‘Fuck!’ His phone and the card now safely back where they belonged, he placed his belongings on the bench where he collapsed into sitting, before leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. Body wracked with sobs, and in the sure and certain knowledge nobody would see him, be broke down in agonising tears, heart finally catching up to the torment it had been through in the last seven years.

Go talk to him..

I can’t.

Didn’t he get it? Why did he keep thinking that? Didn’t he already know the obvious? Indiana didn’t want to be around him for any longer than he needed to. Clearly he’d meant this as a gift really for Ocean. He must’ve figured Fin would take him, and perhaps he would. Indiana..for all that he denied it..he hated Fin.

He actually came close to how much Fin hated himself. He wasn’t quite there but damn if he wasn’t close.

No. He couldn’t go see him. He needed to go somewhere that he could just be. Lifting his head, he was blissfully unaware that his eyes were now bright red. He knew where he had to go. He rose to his feet and walked with purpose as fast as he could back the way he came. Back toward town. Back toward one specific house whose street he had been teasingly quizzed on more than once. What time was it? He hoped she was already done with dinner. The last thing he wanted was for her parents to hate him. To think he was rude. For her to think those things. He froze midway up the path. She..she wouldn’t think those things..right?

He shook himself. That was dumb. He knew himself. He knew his capacity for trust was low…but he trusted Abbie.

With that thought, he scrubbed at his eyes and nose with his sleeve and knocked on the door, card in his hand still. Then he waited.

                                                                            Remember.

                                                                                       Remember.

                                                                                                     Remember.

#bb; #self; #nosspara

[ashes2asher-park]

Another Night, Another Fight

Who: Asher, Kinsley, Sage, and Jasper Where: The Park Residence About: Another nightly stressed encounter for Asher and his wife and son. Triggers: PTSD, Nightmares, mentions of injuries, shots and scars from surgery on his leg, pain medications.

Asher walked through the front door of the three bedroom ranch style house. Hanging his keys up in the area designated for keys. He slides his jacket off, hanging it up. When his eyes met Kinsley’s he all but held a sheepish smile, but it was met with a weak one back. “Sorry-- there was an issue at the club, had to deal with an unruly customer. I didn’t mean to miss dinner again,” he uttered as he moved forward. Kinsley usually had dinner ready for him for when he got out even if it was at two in the morning, so when he missed it especially with it being so late he knew she would be slightly upset. She all but nodded before going back to folding the laundry. “Here-- let me do that, you must have homework,” he offered out as she shook her head. “You smell like a chimney, Ash I don’t want it all over Sage’s clothes,” he sighed a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay-- I’ll shower and do it afterwards,” he offered again, trying to help out the best he could. “Please, let me do something I feel bad with these late nights,” she just shook her head a bit and sighed. “Kin--” she nodded firmly moving to stand, grabbing her work books. “Okay-- if that’s what you want,” he nodded curtly as he watched her walk to the kitchen. A small sigh leaving his lips.

He made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower, though he got lost in his head a bit, mind wandering some he got out about ten minutes later than he wanted. Drying off and changing into some basketball shorts, walking from the bathroom, he peered into the kitchen to see Kinsley with her nose in a book. Settling on the couch, he began to fold Sage’s clothes. Much to his surprise though the four year old wandered from his room eyeing his father a bit too cautiously.

“You’re not doing it like mommy,” he whispered. “Do it like mommy!” Asher was a bit taken back by the outburst. “I can do it like Mommy-- you want to show me?” The four year old shaking his head firmly. “Well Mommy has to get her school work done and she can’t, come on bub show me,” he shook his head more before stomping his feet. “Like mommy!” he could hear the sign coming from the kitchen as Kinsley came into the living room. Jasper’s door opening as well as he peered out. The male knowing best when to keep to his own world cause he knew a fight was about to start.

“Kin I’m sorry--“ he muttered softly. “It’s fine,” she hoisted Sage up into her arms entering the kitchen again. The boy staring his father down as he disappeared around the corner. Asher all but threw the t-shirt in his hand against the wall before rubbing a hand over his face, giving a shuddered breath. It hadn’t been fine, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get the husband card down or the father one either and it was exhausting Kinsley further now that she had school. Before hand the fights where silent, ended with “It’s fine,” and that was it, but lately it followed to the bedroom, more so there were times Asher took up roost on the couch to give his wife some space.

Jasper all but felt bad for his brother at this point as he came from his room, picking up the shirt, he sat on the couch, silently folding it to show Asher, eyeing him some as if to tell him to follow. Doing the same with the other clothes. He didn’t converse with the eldest Park sibling, and Asher never felt more grateful for the youngest Park. They got the basket done in time, and Asher stood to take it with him so he could put the clothes away. Jasper following to show him. “Sage like’s his stuff to be with it’s matches--” he uttered. Nodding Asher put it in, following Jasper to his room handing his clothes off to him before going to their room and putting the rest of it away. Sitting on the bed afterwards he moved to grab his pain medications, taking a couple as his leg seemed to be extra stiff from work that night. Mid swallow Kinsley walked in eyeing him with a small sigh. “I thought you said you were going to quit time-- they make you drowsy and irritable,” she uttered, eyeing him. “I know I did, but the pain is bad today,” he muttered as he moved his leg a bit more. He hated to look at it, the scaring from the blast and surgery left an ugly sight on his leg that made him all but remember the day that nearly killed him. Taking a sip of water from the bottle next to his bed, he settled in fully, eyeing his wife as she moved around to get ready for bed. “Your PTSD is worse when you take them, it seems your nightmares are just god awful, isn’t there something else they can do?”

Asher sighed-- looking away a bit as he shook his head. “We’ve talked about it-- nothing helps with the pain when it gets closer to getting my shots, I can’t help it, I’m trying Kin but it hurts so bad,” he muttered. “I--I know, I just, I wish there was something they could do,” she whispered feeling bad for her husband. The whole situation was less than ideal for either of them and while as of late it had been hard and awkward, she really did care for him.

“We’ve exhausted many options and at the end of it this is what it is till something better comes along. I’m doing the PT, I’m getting the shots, and I’m doing what I can to hold out but being on my feet all night doesn’t help,” he uttered softly looking to her. “Can’t you ask work to give you accommodations at least? Like a chair? Or more breaks?” Asher really wasn’t willing to do either of those, he was new to the job and coming in with restrictions would be less than favorable he thought. “Kin-- I don’t think you understand, this is a really decent paying job, and Nathan put the word out for me, I don’t want to come in with restrictions, a bouncer shouldn’t have that, it’s only really bad like one week out of the month,” he assured. “On those weeks I can sleep on the couch,” it wasn’t like he wasn’t doing so already a handful of times already. So not to disturb her.

“You sleep on the couch as is, most of the month--” Asher sighed some rubbing his face more. “So why is it an issue now then?” he muttered out getting a bit agitated. “It-- It’s not, I just, you want to make this work and I do but we’re basic strangers in this house, sleeping on the couch doesn’t help that,” she whispered harshly. Eyeing him as the fight seemed to start to brew so easily. “Yeah but I just keep you awake with my nightmares. I’m doing this so you can get a good nights sleep for your classes. It’s not like I don’t want to sleep in here-- it’s my bed too,” he muttered out again. Looking away down as his face seemed to get more discouraged. “I know-- but it doesn’t fix the issue, if anything we’re becoming more distant!” Her voice raised a bit before she settled. “Well none of the options work for you Kin, I’m trying-- but if I sleep in here my nightmares keep you awake and you’re already exhausted with Sage and school, so tell me what the ideal situation is!” he muttered back eyeing her once more.

“I--I guess there is none,” Kinsley stated, and Asher nodded curtly with a small sigh. Moving to sit up and grab his pillow and blanket from the chair. “I’ll be back in here in the morning before Sage gets up,” he uttered softly. Feeling deflated, defeated even. “Ash--” she whispered as he peered back to her. “Just-- sleep well,” she murmured tiredly. There was no stopping him he was just as stubborn as he ever would be and think about her and Sage above all else because that was the type of person he was. Asher moved forward pressing a small kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll sort it out-- I’ll pick up more therapy sessions or something, okay? It won’t be forever,” he assured rubbing her arm. “I love you,” he stated peering into her eyes. She nodded some with a weak smile. “I love you too--” she stated. Kissing his cheek. “I will see you in the morning,” he grabbed his phone and water. Walking out of the room.

Once he got the couch set up, Asher settled under his blanket, staring at his phone some, scrolling through a few things before the medication started to take a hold of him and he was drifting off to another restless sleep. He woke up a few times that night in cold sweats and panted breaths, doing his best to fall asleep again. Though each time was that much harder. Waking up sluggishly the next morning to wake Kinsley up, who brought Sage into the room to sleep with Asher so he could wake his dad up when he got up. She herself leaving for school. The same routine happened once more, Asher woke up when Sage began to move, they both ate breakfast in silence, Jasper awoke soon after and him and Sage watched Cartoons till Asher took Sage to Daycare, heading to his therapy session soon after. Picking his son up after that and dropping him off with Jasper before heading to work. It was almost mind altering the same as it had been for the last month. Still having a routine kept Asher stable even if it was nearly on point with no

#self:para #nosspara #my moon #my venus #my star #:jasper: #tw:ptsd

[winklewinklelittlest4r]

Take the Fight from the Kid.

Who: Nathan and His father Where: Phone conversation Warnings: Triggers with hospitals, sickness, alcoholism, abandonment.

Nathan grunted as he heard his phone ring, turning around he eyed the object as his dad's name flashed across the screen. His father didn't deserve to be anything but Andrew in his phone at this point-- at least that was how he viewed his relationship with him. His sisters till held on, but every sliver of hope for Nathan was lost years ago.

Scratching the back of his neck, he let his eyes close again, letting it go to voicemail, or so he hoped, his phone buzzed again. Wiping his face he turned to see James in the bed still asleep. Sighing some he grabbed his phone and moved towards the bathroom to answer it.

“Andre---” he got caught off with his dad's stern tone.

“Dad-- not Andrew, Dad, Father,” he hissed out.

“Fine, Dad,” Nathan muttered against the speaker as he settled against the tub chewing his lip. “It's been about four months-- right on time. Calling to check up?” He muttered with a soft yawn as he rubbed his face.

“No-- What's this money going into Ainsley and Alaina's accounts,” he asked, Nathan could hear typing. Shockingly so his father wasn't too hungover to be at work. Though his voice was drowsy, he would be surprised, there wasn't a night his dad didn't touch a form of alcohol to self medicate.

“It's nothing-- I got a job so I'm putting extra cash in their accounts for college or whatever,” he stated, clearly in a tone that questioned why it was any of his business.

“You got a job-- you're putting in huge amounts of money every couple of weeks, how the fuck are you affording this? Are you doing something illegal?” Nathan scoffed a bit and rolled his eyes. “Are you peddling drugs?”

“No! God no, I'm pretty sure the last ten years we lived with you turned me away from any sort of drug or alcohol-- you painted an amazing picture on what not to fucking do,” Andrew when silent for a few moments, clearly Nathan hit a nerve, but he really didn't care at this point.

“Nathan--” Andrew spoke after a moment. “What are you doing?”

“I'm stripping-- putting all those dance classes to good use,” he stated softly.

“Jesus fuck... Nathan! What if it got out? My son a stripper-- the news would have a god damn field day,” he yelled in a hushed tone.

“No one's ever going to find out, in all honesty you're worried about that, I'd be more worried about your alcoholic behavior, or the fact that your label is struggling financially, in all honesty your name has been tarnished for fucking years after the media got wind that your kids were taken away because you can't even get your life together,” he muttered out harshly.

“Nathan we're not having this fight again--” Andrew spoke back clearly in a stern tone to reprimand his son.

“This is the only fight we ever fucking have. You fucked up-- you lost us and every time you call you try to act like it never happened. Lucky for Ainsley and Alaina they have little to no memory of how you really were-- but whatever relationship we had left is gone because you couldn't get your shit together,” he yelled out finally. “I wasn't supposed to play brother, father, and mother at ten but you pushed me too it. Your love for mom was so god damn important over your kids, Jesus. She left you, she left us to start a new fucking family-- when we needed you, you weren't there. It's okay clearly you loved her more than us, why even care about us, it's not like we're your real kids,” he bit out hoping to hit a nerve and it did. His father stayed silent for awhile, Nathan could feel tears threatening to spill as he listened to his father's breathing over the phone. It was a good couple minutes of silence before he heard his father's voice again.

“You know I love you all--” Nathan scoffed and rolled his eyes a bit, tears finally falling down his face as he angrily wiped them away. “I just couldn't deal--” he was cut off as Nathan spoke again.

“Deal? Do you still stalk her Facebook?” He muttered out. Silence-- it was true. “She moved on years ago, she left us years ago, get the fuck over it, she's never coming back. Why would she? Especially now to a drunk like you or kids that aren't really hers. She never cared about us even after everything we did for her when she as in the hospital-- day in and day out. For years! You stood by her side and that's how she treats you! Why do you still love her!?” He yelled out again. “She clearly stopped loving you a long ass time ago, so move the fuck on!” Nathan's chest was moving heavily with each breath as he kept the phone to his ear for some time. No matter how many times they did this, how many times Nathan told his father to move on, he never would. Normally this call would be his father half drunk complaining about their mother with whatever new picture she posted with her other family or other husband. It was self torture and Nathan was exhausted by it, but there was no stopping him. He thought about blocking his dad's number, and each time he got close he chickened out.

The silence was deafening between the two, just breathing and clearly tears from the both. “Is that all?” Nathan asked finally as he moved to stand hoping to get back to his spot next to James.

“Nathan--” he tired to speak but Nathan cut him off almost instantly.

“Is that all?” he stated more sternly.

“Yeah--” Nathan sighed in relief as he moved to hang up.

“Nath--” he didn't hear anything else as he hung up the phone, moved to throw the object on the ground, covering his face as tears fell down. Every time their father called it was just a general reminder of all things from his past he really wished to forget. Doing his best to calm down he waited a few minutes till he felt his anxiety dissipate. Standing slowly he moved to wash his face before heading back to bed. Moving to snuggle against the other's chest, he closed his eyes a bit in hopes sleep would come, but it didn't. His mind wouldn't let him forget-- at least for today, but tomorrow was a new day with new things, he only hoped his brain would forget this interaction ever happened. There was no sign of that happening anytime soon though as he did his best to fight back the tears, eventually though he fell back asleep with a tear stained face and a frown.

#nosspara #tw:illness #tw:hospital #tw:alcohlism #tw:abadonment

[shannon-case]

Honey, Moon Me!

24th April 2018

“Good morning Mrs Case.”  Was she still dreaming? A still dozing Shannon stretched sleepily, keeping the bed sheet up around her chin where it had remained since she and Danny had decided to fall into bed approximately fifteen minutes after they had completed their check in to their resort. Well, she said fell in, it was more of a joint effort of frantic undressing and giggling (the latter mostly from her). Honeymoon was definitely the right word. So far, married life had been sweet indeed.

Opening one eye, she peered up gingerly at her husband, and saw him sitting cross legend beside her atop the sheets that she was so struggling to pull closer to her, thwarting those same efforts with his bum. This was probably the only time that Shannon would admit to not enjoying that particular part of his body. He had gotten dressed, the git. He had clearly woken up long before she had. Hang on..what time was it? The time difference was still confusing her. It felt like the middle of the night, but somehow it seemed (and the heat felt like) it was the middle of the afternoon. Danny had pulled on his shorts and a white t-shirt, and she could see his sunglasses on their bedside table. Whining, Shannon sat up, pulling the sheet up, as though for modesty’s sake. That was when she saw the tray in front of her on the bed, covered in a gorgeous spread of food. Pancakes, fresh fruit, a china pot with ornate flowers covering its side then winding up the handle that steamed from the spout from something that was, she had no doubt--tea, and fresh pastries. The boy had done well.

Releasing her hold on the sheet, she leaned over and cupped his cheek, and pressed her lips to his to give him a sleepy, soft kiss that she lingered on, even though she’d had no intention to for fear of morning breath. When she did pull back it was to murmur with a tiny smile that she, as god was her witness, tried her best to hide, but to no avail--her husband still saw it and grinned smugly-- “Good morning, love.” Finally her hands let the sheet fall around her waist while she stretched her arms up with a meek squeak while she did so. Danny looked like he wanted to laugh, but gracefully didn’t.

His eyes focused on her bare body a moment, before he reached over to grab a strawberry from the fruit pile and popped it in his mouth. Shannon meanwhile leaned over to grab the black t-shirt he’d discarded the night before and pulled it over her head, and pulled her underwear up underneath the sheets. Content and covered, she hummed while she looked it over, eventually pulling some pancakes closer. As she tucked in she rested her head against her husband’s shoulder, smiling when he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, and dug out a map that he’d pulled from the front desk the previous night when they’d checked in. He rambled about things he had found on the map that seemed like it could be fun, or at least that it could be so touristy that it’d be a laugh. All she could do was smile while she listened to his voice, hearing his enthusiasm, hearing how deeply he cared. She listened to him and lifted her chin to watch him, the softed, sated smile on her face clear as day. If anything it just became wider when he finally noticed and looked down. She leaned up on the hand resting on the bed and kissed him once more, whispering as though saying a prayer “I love you.” she felt his lips stretch into a smile against hers and heard him whisper it back.

She still wasn’t sure she’d woken up from that dream she was having.

#nosspara #para #self #flamingo #wedding

[astorybycaesar]

The Interview | Self Para

After taking a three-day weekend, Caesar entered the studio, ready to work. Today was a special day because the Evening Hour was going to have a guest, a young girl who was releasing her first full-length album. Caesar knew this was a big deal, so he arrived 15 minutes early to help clean up around the studio space. However, as he was entering the building, screaming could be heard from across the hall.

“What the fuck do you mean you lost our voice?!”

“I mean I’m sick,” Georgie answered, in a raspy voice that sounded like it belonged to an 80-year-old chainsmoker. Georgie Rabot’s once voluptuous voice was now gone, and everyone was freaking out, especially George’s boss, Erik. 

“How did this even happen?” Erik groaned. 

To avoid further strain to his voice, Georgie simply shrugged.

“Now who’s going to do the interview? We can’t just tell her to leave. We have to have a show tonight!” 

Georgie took a pen and sticky note from the desk, and wrote “CAESAR” in large, bold letters. 

“Caesar?!”

“Uh, yeah?” Caesar clearly walked in the room at either the best or worst time, and he hadn’t figured out which it was. He had no idea why his name was being yelled by his boss’ boss, but now he was face-to-face with the intimidating man, and there seemed to be no way of escaping confrontation. 

“Kid, listen, Georgie’s voice is gone. He’s saying you should do the interview tonight.”

He blinked at the two older men, stunned at what came out of Erik’s mouth. “Me? Are you sure?” 

“I don’t really have any other options here, kid.” He sighed a deep sigh, then handed Caesar an envelope. “Just read from Georgie’s script and try not to fuck it up. No stupid gags or funny business. Just do the interview and we’ll extend the music and commercials. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes sir!” he exclaimed, taking the envelope from Erik. “Just... give me a minute please.” 

He knew he had to do this right, otherwise it could be detrimental to the show. This could either be the kickstart to his career or the end of it. He ran outside of the room and read the script over. There were definitely things he would have to take out, and he would have to offer some sort of explanation to the listeners as to why their favorite show host was missing in action. All eyes and ears were now on him. He couldn’t fuck this up. 

#nosspara #Georgie Rabot #Erik Van der Beek

[fckharpy]

Never Ever Works Out

The first time she’s ever been heartbroken was when she was seven years old, she wanted her mother and father to attend a play she was in and she was one of the stars. But they never showed up. They never have for anything from then on and she just had to put up with it like it was just a regular thing that happens in families. 

The second time was her first crush and almost relationship with a guy when she was fourteen. They flirted and made out but it turns out that he was only using her to show his guy friends that he can ‘get with her’. She was ‘infamous’ and played hard to get. It hurt her so much that she lost trust in most men.

The third time was when she was fifteen and she buried her brother. From then on, Harper was just lost in every sense of the word. 

The fourth time was when she felt abandoned from all her friends. Shane. Quinn. Mykah. She never felt more worthless then when they disappeared from her life. But she knows they probably have better things to do than deal with her. 

The fifth time was when she knew there was no getting back together Hope. She had moved on it seemed and it was about time that she had too. Though Hope was the first person to ever show her that can feel and be in love... it was probably for the best they never end up together. Harper was toxic after all.

And finally, the sixth time. 

“Court is adjourned.”

Those simple words echoed in her head now as she packed the last of her things in the uHaul and taking one last look back at the apartment that she had shared with Kyle, and Mykah at one point, before sitting in the drivers seat and starting it up.

Suddenly, she was crying. For the first time in a long time, Harper Hill was crying. It felt like a relief and an annoyance. All at once.

Images passed through of Harper holding hands with Hope, to hanging out with Shane at his grandmothers house, to playing video games with Quinn, to losing her house, to arguing with Debbie, to getting mad at Mykah, to Harper breaking a light bulb with her hand, to kissing Hope, to kissing Mykah, to hugging Shane, and finally tucking Kyle sleep in his bed. And then nothing. Just all black.

She had no hope left, no viable reason to stay in Greensville anymore. Kyle was gone. She had lost custody after trying so hard. All because of her past mistakes. Not holding down a job... Slightly burning Kyle’s arm (how his so called mother found out about that Harper had no clue)... To her anger and anti-social behavior she had displayed all throughout her time in town... and the cherry on top was losing sight of Kyle in a market. 

She hated herself. Absolutely despised her reflection as she looked in the side view mirror, tears steadily falling down her cheeks, she tried to wipe them away but they just wouldn’t stop pouring out. 

“Just leave!” She ordered herself. 

With a forceful foot on the pedal Harper lurched the vehicle forth and decided to never look back. No matter where she would take herself to she had no choice but to keep looking forward. That was the only way that she could survive. The only way that she could live with herself. 

“Bye.” She whispered as she turned onto the route that lead her away from Greensville. 

And this time, it would indefinitely be the last time. 

#nosspara #nospara #self para #i was gonna go with a happy leaving para but i'm never nice to harper #so there we have it