lostwcnderlands

[lostwcnderlands]

ooc. very tired, fr cannot keep my eyes open. barely managed to get everything cut && drafted to work on mobile tomorrow. zzz sleepy... must crash... will be posting replies when i can 💜

[lostwcnderlands]

🎶 + hades && selene

[ For a Playlist - always accepting. ]

I am too lazy for a graphic but I DID do this and you can find my new favorite playlist right here !

[lostwcnderlands]

as soon as the distance between them closed, it was replaced, and josiah felt the tension crushing his chest dissipate. but his eyes didn’t wander away from bryce - a new respect reflected in them. he knew how to read people, and he knew when someone projected a false bravado. there was nothing fake about the confidence radiating, empowered probably but not fabricated by the divinity, off of bryce && his dangerous, grand ideas. a smirk that smug could only mean authenticity.

“ i thought you had a family already. “ jos echoed, eyebrow quirking up, regaining some sense of control as he allowed his lungs to inflate && exhale. it was easier to let go to the fire in his veins now, trust that the haze would grow in his mind, subdue the storm of everything that the whole fucked up night had became. he fucking hated surprises. he liked to know what to expect, everything in its place, following an order.

chaos is when control was lost. chaos is where jesse thrived; but it was worn differently on this pompous prick taking up space in his living room. worn like a badge of honor, not a weapon. and as much as it freaked jos out… he was starting to like it, too. something different. finally.

a short laugh left josiah at the twisted compliment. “ mhm, is that so? bullshit. you still don’t even know me. “ rising, josiah crossed in front of bryce to the hall, pulling sweatpants, boxers, and a loose t-shirt from the hamper of laundry. sniffed it, just to make sure that he’d pulled from the clean pile, and then tossed the articles to bryce. “ you just like fucking with me. should’ve tattooed trouble on you instead of pride. “ a pause. he still hadn’t smiled yet, though the intensity of his tone had softened into something more casual. almost even friendly. “ maybe i’ll do that next, if you’re so hellbent on sticking around. “

He knows that the drug is part of the reason he feels so willing to talk about this, that without it he would have been more closed lip about his scheme. But it's still thudding through him, highlighting behind Josiah in slashes of color from the TV and then there's the other thing keeping him talking -- loneliness.

No one wants to be king of the castle by himself. And he doesn't like the look in Josiah's eye, this sort of craven disbelief that comes from fear. It's obvious that Jesse and Josiah don't get along, but now he's starting to figure it out. It's not that they don't get along, it's that Josiah is scared of him.

Bryce knows fear, has always been talented at identifying it and it's there right now as he asks his questions. He leans back to give the other man some room, relaxing in the armchair he's sat in, feeling a bit odd with nothing but a towel but he's been in weirder situations before.

"I'm still very high, yes," He admits with a grin. "And I do think you're right about me being able to leave. I have a lot of money. But I didn't come here to run off at the first shitty hazing. It sucked, I cannot stress how much it sucked, but I'm not a coward. I am many things, you could even say I'm prideful, but I'm not a bitch."

Bryce stretches his legs, crossing his ankles, "Sure I don't know what he's going to do, but see previous statement, not a bitch. I came here for a family, I want what I want. I'll get it."

It's odd, it feels like somehow the tables have turned, before Josiah had the power on if he got to the next step. He was in a way beholden to the man. But not now, now apparently Jesse's opinion is the only one that carries weight and it's got his ego filling up the room in record time. "I like you." Bryce admits with a wink, yep still high. "You are the kind of person I came for not him."

[lostwcnderlands]

death had haunted him for his whole life. a dark cloud, thickly veiled around him, for as long as raleigh could remember. the cold chill of finality had come as familiar as air- and when you’ve witnessed so much bloodshed, so much brutality in the sake of senseless evil- it changes you. raleigh knew how precious life, how temporary joy, how fleeting humanity was. flickers of fire on an endless timeline. too easy to snuff out, so worthless in the grand scheme of things.

he’d said more goodbyes in life than he ever had hello. wielding a blade in the name of sienna’s interest wasn’t the first time raleigh had played with the game of grim reaping. but it had been the most fulfilled his spirit ever achieved. a sense of satisfaction, of duty, that consumed him with fire from the within && spread out. locking in desire, twisting it into obsession, desperate devotion.

“ four. “ raleigh’s voice did not waver. regret did not shimmer in his pale eyes. the ghosts that haunted his steps didn’t claim a minute of sleep from him.

it’s not even that he thought she needed protecting. anyone could take a look at sienna, hear her father’s name, watch as a room obeyed her command to know that this was no damsel in distress. it went deeper than that for him.

never had it been about saving her. raleigh wouldn’t want a girl who needed a knight in shining armor. he’d never measure up.

“ the first two were gangbangers. dunno their names, didn’t ask. heard they had an idea to step in territory that wasn’t theirs. i didn’t like that. “ the confession wasn’t hesitant, it held no fear. his head tilted as he continued. “ the next said some nasty shit to his friend when you walked past. didn’t like that either. “

raleigh leaned forward, closing the distance between her hand && his steady heartbeat himself- since she wouldn’t. sienna needed to know he wasn’t scared. that he was solid. “ the last one was the tough guy you took home from the bar last weekend. he cried like a little bitch, by the way. you could do better. “

@lostwcnderlands sent : "I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop" [ Dark Romance and Smut Sentences - always accepting. ]

A slow breath—measured, steady, calculated—slipped past her lips, though it did little to mask the sharp edge of anticipation curling in her chest. The weight of his words settled over her like a velvet noose, tightening, suffocating, intoxicating.

I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.

She should have been horrified. Should have gasped, should have pulled away, should have flinched at the confession dripping with blood and devotion. But she didn’t.

Instead, her head tilted, gaze sweeping over him, slow, assessing—the way a queen might study a knight kneeling at her feet. Loyal. Dangerous. Irrevocably hers.

Her father had built an empire on power, on fear, on knowing when to strike and when to let others do the striking for him. And here Raleigh stood, offering her something far greater than empty promises—violence in her name, a devotion steeped in crimson.

God, she should not like this.

But she did.

She exhaled, slow and deliberate, fingers lifting—not trembling, not hesitant, but testing, teasing the space between them. She didn’t touch him. Not yet. She wanted to feel the weight of his need, the raw, unshaken certainty in the way he looked at her.

❝You can’t just say that,❞ she murmured, voice silk and steel, dangerous in its softness. A blade unsheathed. A promise wrapped in something sweet.

❝Like it’s supposed to make me—❞ A pause. A smirk, slow and knowing, curving at the corner of her lips. ❝Feel something.❞

But it did. God help her, it did.

She had seen men kill for power, for revenge, for money. But this? This was for her.

Her hand drifted closer, hovering just near his chest, close enough to feel the heat of him, close enough to let him think—hope—she might close the distance. ❝How many?❞

The question slipped from her lips, a whisper, a dare—laced with curiosity, hunger, something ruinous and reckless. She should have asked why. Should have condemned him.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she leaned in, gaze flickering, voice dipping into something dark, something dangerous, something that tasted like temptation and ruin. ❝Tell me, Raleigh. Who did you kill for me? And how did it feel?❞

Her breath fanned against his skin, the space between them tightening, suffocating, binding. ❝Did it make you feel alive?❞

[lostwcnderlands]

“ i didn’t chose you in spite of your demons, logan. i didn’t make room for you to exclude the dark parts. they are welcome, too. i see that, too, and there is space enough in my heart for all of it. all of you. “ her eyes had fluttered shut when the weight of his whisper pressed butterfly breath to her ear. the words were mournful, but said like sweetness from a lover, low in his throat && calling to the darkest parts of her in return. “ i’m not choosing to just- like… overlook the things that scare me. “

her hands came up, one to the side of his face as fingers made a gentle stroke down the outline of his jaw. hazel hues didn’t need to open to know where to touch; his body was committed to the memory of her fingers, reaching for him with a confidence of someone who had explored every part of his surface, and didn’t withdraw from whatever lay beneath. “ i want those parts of you too. this was never about what you could be, what i imagined you might become. i never gave a shit about that. “

tomorrow was never promised. carmen knew that intimately well. she’d had friends die in a crash of fire, taken in an instant because of a wrong twist of a steering wheel. hell, she’d stared death in the eyes herself once or twice. he’d pull her in, push her away- carmen couldn’t pretend it hadn’t hurt. that it wouldn’t continue to burn, rejection leaving a bitter taste every time it reared its head between them by his hesitant, fearful hand. but this time, the warmth of his body didn’t fade. there wasn’t a goodbye to follow quickly after, there was no rebuke to her affections. and the longer he stayed, each time her words pulled him closer, the more carmen had begun to understand.

she leaned back, a hand finding home over his heart, her feet rooted in place but head tilting to look him in the eyes. “ i know you’d do anything to be enough, and you’re fuckin’ scared you can’t be, i get it now. but i wish you would just believe me when i say you already are. i don’t want you to be different, to change. i… “ her heart skipped a beat, and she paused, tongue snaking out over her lips && she tasted the crimson red painting them. “ i didn’t fall in love with some guy you might be someday. i fell for the man standing right here. “

@lostwcnderlands sent : "if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you" [ Dark Romance and Smut Sentences - always accepting. ]

A muscle in his jaw tightened, the weight of her words settling somewhere deep, somewhere he had long since taught himself to ignore. It clawed at him, pressing against the fractures he pretended weren’t there, the places inside him worn thin by too many years of blood and silence. He should have laughed—shrugged it off with something sharp-edged, something dismissive. That was the easy thing, the expected thing. But when he looked at her, really looked at her, standing there with that quiet, impossible defiance, he felt something twist inside him.

His hands flexed at his sides, as if fighting the instinct to reach for her, as if trying to brace himself against the weight of her belief in him. Why the fuck did she have to look at him like that? Like he wasn’t made of bruised knuckles and bad decisions. Like she saw something in him worth staying for.

❝You see something that isn’t there, Carmen.❞ His voice was low, rough, carrying the kind of exhaustion that had nothing to do with the body and everything to do with the soul. ❝You think you’ve got me figured out—like there’s some version of me worth choosing, worth saving.❞

A humorless chuckle ghosted past his lips, dark and jagged at the edges. ❝But if you could see through my eyes? You’d know you got it all wrong.❞ His gaze traced her features, lingering like he was trying to memorize the way she looked at him—like he was trying to burn it into the hollow spaces inside him, the ones that had forgotten how to believe in anything.

He took a slow step forward, deliberate but hesitant, his fingers twitching before they found their way to her waist. Warmth. Real. Grounding. His grip was firm, unrelenting, as if she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment. To something human.

❝You chose me,❞ he murmured, his voice dipping lower, something dangerously close to regret bleeding into the words. ❝But you don’t even realize what that means.❞ His lips hovered near her ear, breath warm, unsteady. ❝Because I don’t know how to be what you think I am. And I sure as hell don’t know how to be what you deserve.❞

And yet—he didn’t let go. He didn’t step back. Instead, his grip on her tightened, pulling her in just enough that the space between them felt like a question neither of them knew how to answer. His forehead nearly brushed hers, the air between them thick, heavy, pulsing with something unspoken. A war waged inside him—warning, surrender, the ghosts of everything he’d done clawing at the edges of this impossible moment.

But still, he stayed.

[lostwcnderlands]

--- But my demons are here and they're keeping me company. @lostwcnderlands

[lostwcnderlands]

“ what the fuck are you talking about? “ josiah didn’t mean for it to come out as a whisper - but it did. slinking back && away from bryce into the cushion, like he was hurling weapons with his words alone. “ you’re still tripping. “

but josiah wasn’t in disagreement. the silence that followed the question was an indicator of that. of course he was better - he’d always been better. and that was the source of his punishment, the crime he’d committed with his birth alone. every time he reached success, jesse would be there to, as bryce said, bend his knee. fighting only led to tragedy - half the ink that patterned his skin were tales of the destructive duo, jesse’s mark left outwardly as much as it had been imprinted on josiah within. bryce had been under his boot - literally - and yet sat here with fire in his eyes && a ridiculous claim to redesign the board.

the world swam for a moment, the whiskey hitting all at once - bryce smelled like his soap, and of confidence, a trait that josiah had started to forget what it felt like. eyes shut against the swell of warmth that filled the room as his heart skipped a beat, muscles relaxing as tipsy turned to a little bit drunk.

he really, really should have left bryce to freeze on the dock. allowing him to keep playing these games- believing that he held any semblance of power- it wasn’t fair… “ then why? “ josiah finally asked, demanded, finding his voice as the tangle of thoughts cleared, eyes opening to look into bryce’s own. he was mad, they both were. the night hasn’t gone as planned for anyone. “ why did you come, why did you join, why didn’t you run when i tried to warn you? why are you still trying? “ it wasn’t his job to ask the questions. josiah wasn’t supposed to know anything but the their sins- and yet, he needed to understand. why someone like bryce would willingly walk into this. “ you’ve got the money to disappear, if you tried hard enough. you don’t have to be here at all… do you? “ and in that, there was a surprising twinge of longing. he could only hope it hadn’t reached his voice, or reflected in the mournful mocha hues trained on the newest recruit. then, even softer - like he was scared to even admit, the first instance that true weakness entered his voice - josiah all but pleaded. " you don't know what he'll do if you fuck with things. "

Play the game, play the role, be the good boy who smiles and dances and learns finance. Go to the meetings, be the man of the house. Bryce is very good at playing the game, but well he's always had a different more eccentric skill. "I'll redesign the board." He whispers, his idea from the beginning.

He didn't come here to be the bitch of some guy that thought he was better than him, there was a reason he didn't read the damn manifesto. Bryce didn't come here to follow, he came here to lead, to find a place in which he could thrive in a different way. He doesn't want power, he has that, he wants true community. True family.

He wants something beautiful to bring his sister into, a society in which he gets to write the rules where she'll be able to play freely and he'll be loved for his merit and not his money. Bryce smiles at him, all sharp teeth. "You don't need to convert me, Jo~si~ah, I'm a true believer. I believe in me."

Bryce presses his hands to his bare knees, using that to press him forward, even as the other draws back. "I didn't come here to bend the knee." He tilts his head to the side, observing, tracking posture, expressions. Seeing if he'll rise to the offensive or see his point of view.

I'll bet money I've said worse. Maybe Josiah is more than the tattoo artist, maybe he's the guy to have in his corner.

"I'm better than that, aren't you?" He asks, breathe so close he's certain it ghosts into Josiah's, "Don't you want to be?"

[lostwcnderlands]

HARRIS DICKINSON as samuel in babygirl (2024)

[lostwcnderlands]

josiah wasn't entirely sure he knew what to do with the information that had been dropped on him, almost pausing in his wipe of each finger, but pressed on with a clamped jaw && eyes carefully held down at the hand gripped between his fingers. it wasn't enough to make him feel bad, not really... not yet. it was jesse's game, not his. the tattoo studio was his power- the cleansing, it was just an unfortunate step everyone had to take. it mattered, for some reason, somehow. it wasn't going to be so easy to talk josiah out of it.

clearly bryce hadn't learned a single damn thing. you could bruise his body, but not his fucking attitude.

but then, his space was crowded, bryce leaned forward close enough that the droplets from his hair dripped to his sweats, and josiah leaned back instinctively, withdrawing as his eyes came up to meet his slowly. " i didn't ask to know any of that. and i don't give a fuck what you say about my brother - i'll bet money i've said worse. " he snapped, lip furling into a snarl, eyes narrowing. " say it to his face && get stabbed, i guess, if you think it'll be worth it. "

a kneejerk reaction, a defensive mechanism when threatened, or uncomfortable, or simply taken off guard. " it's not my job to convert you. it wasn't my job to save you, either. no one made you come here, but he knows you now. your face, your name. you came of free will, and you're not gonna get to leave. that isn't my fault. you want to belong? shut up and play the fucking game. stay out of his way, and find a fuckin' purpose. "

why didn't he get it? as irritated as josiah was, hands returned back to his own lap like he couldn't stand to touch bryce, the hair on the back of his neck prickling with intensity, part of him wanted to shake the other, force him to understand what was going on.

Pissed off by the whole thing might be the biggest understatement of the night. He raises an eyebrow as the tattoo artist scrubs at his hand, scowling, "No I just love tripping balls, and hallucinating that one time my father drowned and I had to tread water for hours with my unconscious sister on my back knowing if I stopped we were both going to die. Highlight of my goddamn week actually, all the while she's there to witness the whole fucking thing."

He all out bares his teeth at Josiah, "And that's not including the whole ice cold half waterboarded in a lake bit, or the boot on my chest for some fucking prick who wants me to think he's the Messiah. It didn't work for the record, I saw right through his bullshit."

Bryce barely understands the gist of what Ad Astra is but he knows for damn sure if he's divine, or going to find salvation it is not going to be under the boot of some man in all white trying to pretend he's the one that is saving him.

"I have every right to be pissed." He adds, leaning toward him, unbothered that he's not even dressed, that he's drugged and at a complete disadvantage, "I came here for a place to belong, not to kiss some dick's ass because he has delusions of grandeur. And don't give me the don't talk about my brother like that speech, he doesn't even fucking like you and I figured that out half out my mind."

[lostwcnderlands]

" daaamn- who took a piss in your cornflakes? " riker chuckled, the alcohol on his breath like a cloud as he pushed back up from the counter, a little sloppy on his feet as he drew up to his full height. an exaggerated glance was cast around the otherwise empty gas station. " i don't even see your boss here. you always do what you're told, or somethin'? " another snort from his buddy behind him was all the encouragement that riker needed to press further. always looking for trouble, always poking his nose where it didn't belong... " you always a good boy? "

ah, leave the kid alone, ry. it was the quieter of the trio, shooting a remorseful look to the cashier, before snagging the drinks from the counter as riker reached for his wallet with a roll of eyes. " whatever. gimme some scratch offs, a pack of smokes. pall malls. "

USUALLY, ELLIS WASN’T THE KIND OF employee that gave anybody a problem. he was accommodating, polite, and didn’t roll his eyes even when he wanted to. he just didn’t like conflict (who does ??) - it was easier to let it go. but his broken heart left him without the energy to be passive. ellis sighed. “ look, i-it’s just my job, man. i gotta say it or my boss’ll get pissed. i don’t really care if you do or don’t want slushies. ” he threw his hand up lazily then started to scan their drinks. “ anything else ?? ”

[lostwcnderlands]

ooc. made a really good dent in my drafts!! still a few more to go, but i'm happy with my progress. i know i have tons of inbox memes to respond to, and i will, i'm actually really, really excited to do them && have already been brainstorming up ideas. that said, i'm detirmined to getting most (if not all) the way caught up draft wise before going crazy with prompts && starters. thanks to everyone who has come to plot with me!! i know i promised a couple of starters yet to do, i'll be getting to those tomorrow now i feel better about the draft load. 💜

[lostwcnderlands]

" ugh, please. " miles eyes rolled, and he let out a little chuckle. " you couldn't take advantage of me if you tried. i'm already taking advantage of you && your kindness. " he quipped, a slight tease in his tone passing over a pair of chopsticks- but plastic forks were on the desk, too, as a back up. he might need them. " now i can pretend it's not just my dog && paperwork waiting for me, and act like i have a fun filled weekend ahead of me. trust me, i'm totally using you here. " he sympathized with her complaints, in a different way. how many divorcees could claim their spouse was crazy, yet be the one to cheat in the end? miles had come to realize, all crazy happened for a reason. eyes lit up at the sight of a glass, reserved now all for him. " ooh, see, definitely taking advantage of you now. " he chuckled, nodding appreciatively, and accepted it with an eager grasp. quick, down the hatch went the first sip, and miles sighed. " we should have chosen different jobs. we could be artists && poets right now. "

there's a moment, a long moment, where daphne doesn't say anything at all, because the truth is that it is a sweet thing for him to do, and it's far too cruel to discount that with a snide or glib remark. a hand lifts and pulls the reading glasses from her face, tossing them to the side as she lets out a long, rough sigh through her nose. "thank you." and the words sound sincere, even if daphne has always had a hard time being sincere about anything. "you might be too sweet, you know. if i was a worse person i might take advantage of your kindness, instead of just eating as much of this delicious food as i can handle. do you know how many papers i've read today about the theory of shakespeare being a total fraud? as much as i encourage my students to think outside of the box..." trailing off, she reaches under her desk to grab a bottle stashed there, mischief glinting in her eyes. "to take the edge off. want a glass? it's top shelf."

[lostwcnderlands]

“ hey, i’m the expert on the water. not… shipwrecked off the shore. “ sunny wrinkled their nose in response, head shaking lightly as they finished tying up the last of the brush && tarp together in a pretty piss-poor excuse for a shelter. “ basic survivalist skills from playing video games is what we’re working with here, uh, expertise wise. heat source, food- shelter… “ sunny’s voice trailed off, staring at the dismal amount of food they had deemed safe && gathered. mostly fruits. a busted coconut. “ mia, we’re screwed. “

closed starter for @lostwcnderlands ♡ based on this !

"okay, it think that's just about..." she spoke as she dropped another stack of loose twigs into the pile she'd been forming for what felt like hours. "everything." manual labor and mia didn't exactly mix, but nature called — whatever that meant. all she knew was that she had to help by nightfall or things could get much, much worse. "i mean, you're the expert here. do we need anything else?"

[lostwcnderlands]

lips twisted into a smirk at the lackluster marketing, and riker's eyes shifted to his buddy's beside him as the trio came up to the counter, beers && ale in hand. the bars were closed, they'd been kicked out, but the party hadn't ended just yet. leaning on an elbow by the register, riker's eyes looked the cashier up && down, a small laugh crawling from the husky rasp of his whiskey-burnt throat. " lemme ask you somethin', pretty boy. " tongue snaked out to graze across his upper teeth, a pause droning on before the biker continued. " ...does it look like we're here for slushies? go on, take your time, really think 'bout it, sweetheart. " a chuckle sounded from behind him, but riker kept his gaze on the steely, sad, pathetic blues of the younger man, waiting to see if he'd squirm.

HE WAS ALL GROWN UP NOW, but felt the same way he did fifteen years ago when his first ‘ girlfriend ’ dumped him. the only difference was they’d been dating for three years ( not three weeks ). so now he was back home after graduating college with a broken heart AND the same job he had when he was in high school. ellis leaned over the counter, resting on his elbows with his head hung low. he heard the sound of a group coming towards him, so he stood up straight and sighed. “ hey - today were having a two for one - ” he sighed as he forgot the word “ - deal - on slushees. so, great news for you if you were planning on ordering one. ” if the boss was around he’d get pissed at ellis’ lack of an excited tone, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to be chipper.

open to all !! (21+ only - age gaps welcome bc im obsessed)

ellis friedmann. he/him. 23-29. bisexual. 6'4. musician. gas station cashier. pinterest board.

plot: ellis’ ex cheated and broke up with him and now he’s back home after getting his master degree and depressed and either ur muse is gonna be an ass or like i'm gonna suck his dick and make it all better :)

connections: pls give me friend’s younger sibling or literally just give me your m*lfs/cougars that are meeting him for the first time and can tell he's sad but for m/m DYING for a drunk asshole older man to call him pretty boy ORRR a.sshole from high school who picked on ellis (av club quiet kid in jazz band) in high school but between high school and college he grew taller and now he's all beautiful and there's sexual tension ofc

[lostwcnderlands]

it's probably wrong of him, but the continued, insistent bitching brought a twisted smirk to josiah's lips. this had all become so normal to him, he'd almost forgotten how startling it must seem to someone of bryce's world. the brutality of it; the depravity, the desire for more. there was still a doubt in josiah's mind that bryce had any real goal of ascension, of finding community within those dedicated to achieving the divine. " you're really pissed about the whole thing, aren't you? "

fingers worked quick, far more gentle than they'd been during the actual tattoo, and josiah placed a large second-skin bandage over the paw print after rubbing in the creams. at least it should help the burn on the top of the skin, and he'd grab tylenol for the internal bruising, too, in a bit. if he remembered. if he had any left.

" oh. " josiah nodded nonchalantly, as if he didn't notice the pause, the flash of horror over bryce's expression. " most people see ghosts. " but not them. of fucking course, not them. moving his attention on, josiah took bryce's hand, inspecting the letters of his worst sin. they actually weren't too bad, but he opened another sanitizing wipe with his teeth anyway, just to be sure.

It doesn't take much convincing to get him to sit given his legs feel all wobbly, though he makes his distaste for the sanitizing wipes known with the way he glares at it even if he makes no move to shove it away. He lets Josiah do whatever it is he means to do, and figures it's probably a good idea to begin with.

His eyes get caught on his sister as she touches the TV screen laughing at the cartoon that plays, big wide childish smile on her face as she glances back to look at him, as if he's the one that's not supposed to be here. He waves his fingers at her until she turns back to the show.

"I didn't choose to get dunked in swamp water," He grumbles, "I still think you all could get a nice swimming pool to drown people in. Or a fountain, fuck a spray bottle." He jokes, trying to shake the feeling of the icy cold. The pain on his chest, and the sinking feeling as he went under.

Bryce seeks out Chatty again, she's still there, swaying from side to side to some rhythm in her head, "Not a ghost," He says, a little harsher than he means to, "Very alive. Chateau is my little sister, she's living it up in luxury in our house. I'll call in the morning to see if she's been alright. Probably just terrorizing her newest hire. I swear she tries to scare them off on purpose. Like a sport." He snorts.

He pauses then realizing that he probably shouldn't have said all that. Typically he doesn't like to hint at his sister's condition with anyone. But then, well of course it's the drugs, why wouldn't the drugs make him talkative.

[lostwcnderlands]

words twist like a knife to his chest - but it's not enough to get raleigh to back down. it only stokes the fire more, lip furling back, and he let out a sharp, harsh laugh of disbelief. " that's the fucking point, frenchie! no one is good enough for you. no one is ever fuckin' good enough for you. so you'd may as well just be with me! " there was desperation laced in his voice, something wild snagging at the back of his throat, making his eyes wide && heart race. anger, desire, fear, obsession - they were a melting pot within raleigh's brain, all thoughts consumed in a swarm around her. hands tight around her arms, then raleigh pulled her in for an embrace, before holding her back out to hear the next slew of insults hurled directly into his face.

" when i show him all the nasty fuckin' shit you do, the shit we did, the videos i got on my phone? he won't want you. he'll be disgusted by you. " raleigh whispered, husky toned && low in his throat, a growl of a threat spat between gritted teeth. " fuckin' watch me. " his eyes glinted, something crazy reflected in them, and one hand still gripped her arm with an iron-vice claw, the other pulled his phone from a back pocket. opened up the gallery, so she could see. raleigh scrolled through dozens of photos && videos... selecting one particularly deplorable video, and clicking send. " i'm a fuckin' pussy, right? i won't do it, right? " he breathed out, voice hitching, a laugh ripping from his lungs. would she stop him? his finger hesitated, the contact selected - he baited her, not letting it drop down, waiting for her reaction -

it hadn't taken all that much detective work to deduce who the culprit behind all this menacing behavior towards her new boyfriend was. who else gave enough of a fuck about her or her love life to go out of their way in an attempt to scare them into breaking up? nobody but raleigh had the balls to do such a thing, nor lacked the mental stability to even conceive of such a method to win her back. despite her anger, which was so palpable it was almost making her shake, frenchie had to admit— it was just about the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. god knows her current boyfriend wouldn't have done the same... no one had ever fought for her like this, or even gave enough of a shit to want to, and she couldn't help but let her fondness for him grow alongside her rage. "that's not up for you to decide! you can try and scare off my new boyfriends all you want, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face it— you're not good enough for me, and you never will be." she allowed him to grab her, merely furrowing her brows and flaring her nostrils in a weak sign of protest as her heart seemed to pound that much harder from the thrill of it all. this was exactly what she'd been missing in the weeks since she started dating her new boyfriend— something real, something raw, a tangible sign of his passion that wasn't watered down by what was deemed as "acceptable" behavior. "is that supposed to scare me? threatening texts? revenge porn? you're a pussy— you're not gonna do shit."

[lostwcnderlands]

-> closed starter for @roadsidemotels {shelby && raleigh}

he'd been bagging groceries for a week. standing there, at the end of her line, wasting away in a shitty uniform with a vest that didn't fit right. the manager had misspelled his nametag, so everyone called him riley - and if that weren't bad enough, shelby hadn't even noticed him. if she had, it hadn't been very deep, barely a glance, or a hey, even when he left a cupcake for her in the break room. but now, they were alone. shift lead took off early again, tossing raleigh the keys with instruction to lock up. just him && the girl he watched every single night on the stage. she should remember him; and it wasn't fair.

when the door locked, they were still inside, the key turning quietly to steel them in. raleigh turned, most of the lights flicked off by her hasty hand, surely eager to get home to change into something sexy for her night job. " you seriously don't recognize me? you're not ever going to fucking say hi to me? " he'd only gotten this job for her. to be close to her. to see her. her ass shaking on a stage had stopped being enough awhile ago - and raleigh took a step forward, towards her, feeling his heartbeat skip a pace. " don't pretend you don't know me... charlene. we have a connection. "