softreigns-blog

[softreigns-blog]

mimi dunne.

     mimi nods solemnly, “i get that. sometimes it just doesn’t work.” she smiles as emma finishes up the pancakes, feeling a surge of pride that she successfully taught something– it feels strangely reassuring. smiling softly, mimi agrees. “i hope things are turning up. he’s sweet, he’s just… shy, you know?” if there was one thing she’d learned about jack, it’s that he’s unsure of himself. as she crosses the kitchen to serve breakfast, mimi wonders for the first time if she’s overstaying her welcome. “i’d love two. also, if i’m intruding, let me know.” she takes the plate with a grateful smile. “though– i’d need to get my clothes out of jack’s room first.”

“ He is sweet, ” She said, and that’s why the entire situation seemed a bit STRANGE to her. He always talked about love and romance as things to be lauded — not even far off fantasies, but things to attain. A one night stand was far off of the norm. “ He’s probably gonna ask you out, like ... as a heads up. ” Mimi seemed the type to be confident enough to have plenty of one night stands, clean and contactless — she wondered if the blonde had Jack’s number yet. Or if she would dart out the door, an enigma, never to be seen again ( only to be discussed after a bottle of wine on those infamous board game nights. ) “ No intrusion. Promise. Two’s company, ” Really, she thinks three is company and four and even MORE. But that’s not important. “ You can duck in and get them, if you want. Or you can borrow something of mine, avoid the awkwardness if he wakes up. ”

[softreigns-blog]

felix kramer.

  ❝   hey,   you’re   not   cowardly.   prolly   just   a   better   person   than   me.   ❞   then   again,   most   people   were.   seeing   someone   hesitate   over   something   that’s   as   small   as   a   little   spit   is   refreshing   to   him,   especially   in   a   place   as   seedy   as   the   venom   bar.   most   customers  would   piss   in   a   drink   and   not   think   twice   about   it.   ❝   not   a   bad   person   at   all,   i   promise.    ❞   he’s   not   the   right   person   to   ask   for   this,   and   he   hopes   she   knows   that.   his   judgement   has   been   long   since   clouded,   he   couldn’t   say   she’s   a   bad   person   even   if   he   wanted   to.   (   throwing   stones,   or   something   like   that.   )   ❝   i   mean,   in   comparison   to   that   dickweed.   who   takes   a   girl   out   and   then   ditches   ‘em??   assholes,   that’s   who.   give   ‘em   the   biggest   loogie   you   got.   ❞

She clears her throat, collecting spit in her mouth. It feels gross as she’s doing it, and part of her feels GUILTY even before action is committed. But the logical part of her brain agrees with him: some people just have it coming. She’s tried to ignored that most of the time, tried to take the high road. Breaking the rules — at least her own personal ones, she was pretty sure there were no legal ramifications for dumping a drink on the lap of a bad date — seemed like a FUN alternative to moping at the bar. She spits into the glass, shaking her head as she does so, in automatic disapproval of her actions. “ You’re a bad influence, ” She tells him, but she’s smiling in anticipation. THEN — the march over to the booth there they sit, still kissing and whispering. A tap on the shoulder, they pull apart, and as the girl moves away out of the blast zone to shoot her a nasty look, former date’s head is covered in booze ( and of course, the addition of Felix & Emma’s own creations ) before a response can even be formed. “ You were a REALLY shitty date ... and you should change your tinder bio, because no one believes you’re six two. ” Glass is set down neatly on to the table with a thump, and she flounces back to her position on the barstool. Eyes gleaming and smile giddy, she stares up at Felix. Exhale. “ You see that? ”

[softreigns-blog]

jack detler.

        she feels the weight of her words heavy on his chest, almost suffocating. it hurts to know that she hurts and he feels immediately guilty for even making her say it. though they hold a truthfulness that cuts at him like the cerated edge of a knife. when he was young, he was taught that there was no bounds to how much people could love one another. he saw it in the love between his mother and father, and their love for him. once upon a time he saw it in the eyes of his ex too. it made him believe that apathy was cruel and inhumane. though in the years that loneliness had staked it’s claim in his fragile heart, a realization had been made. knowing when to let go was a practice in knowing how to stop caring. he doesn’t believe it comes naturally, it’s something that has to be worked at, constantly and consistently. people aren’t as forgettable as they’d like them to be, people have a way of taking even when they’re not here. ‘   it’s hard to know.   ’ he says softly. ‘   even when all the signs are there.   ’ no one wants to give it up, no one wants to have to practice indifference. his thumb runs circles against her hand. ‘   i’m sorry.   ’ it’s hushed, but it’s the only consolation he ever feels is truly apt for the loss of someone in life, whatever form that takes. ‘   you’re …   ’ he thinks real hard on it, it has to be perfect. she deserves perfect. ‘   you were one of the first people i met here. and you were kind. so kind. my girlfriend had just broken up with me and then you were right there like some sort of angel, and … well i was gonna ask you out. then you told me about mickey and even when you didn’t have mickey, you still did you know ? but i’m glad i never did, because i didn’t realize how much i needed a friend back then. i suppose the point is, well the point is that i don’t know how people don’t just fall in love with you right then and there ‘cos i sure as hell did.   ’

She wants to believe in the goodness of people. In the inherent light of humanity, that there’s good, strong, BRAVE people in this world, with kind hearts and pure motives. And when she looks at Jack, there’s just a bit of that hope that increases. He’s good, and she knows it, and he’s good for her — the type of friendship where one understands the other, and back around the other way again. Where there’s nothing but kindness and support and all the good things that are supposed to be associated with love and kinship. And now, as she hears words of comfort — coming from him, it might be the first time she believes them. And that’s why arms are snaked around his neck best they can be on the floor, face buried in his chest, in the tightest embrace she can muster. It’s strange, slightly, to hear remnants of the past, like some alternate universe where they could have been. And it makes her want to cry, because worlds you haven’t stepped foot in seem so much more perfect and magical than the ones you know. “ You’re a really good friend, Jack. ” It’s then she realises she is crying, and she isn’t even halfway embarrassed that she’s getting tear stains on his shirt, or that he can most certainly hear her sniffling. Maybe that’s the good part of friendship to. “ What did I do to deserve all that? ” All that: she isn’t quite certain if it refers to his words, caring and gentle and exactly what she needed to hear, or the content of them: being loved or cared for at all. 

[softreigns-blog]

gideon carlisle.

      gideon smiles at emma; she seems like a person with genuine kindnes, which are increasingly rare. he might even trust her… probably not, but maybe. her softness is reinforced by soft skin, soft curls, soft smile. nothing about her is off-putting or offensive. gideon shakes his head at her offer, “oh no, i really wouldn’t want to impose.” he laughs at her suggestion of finding yearbooks and, when he realizes she actually meant it, decides to accept. “well, okay. if you’re sure you don’t mind.” interactions are a gamble with gideon; he always has to stay one step ahead, anticipating the other’s move so he could prepare for it. 

She’s ducked back into the house now, leaving it to Gideon to close the door behind them and follow her. The steps into Jack’s room are natural, whether she’s gone through the consistently open door shaking the cat’s dry food to lure Bacardi out from under bed before Jack gets home, or to just bother him on nights where she’s bored or lonely. Familiar spot on a familiar bookshelf is spotted, and a photo album is cradled in her arms when she returns to the living area, holding it out for the older to take. “ No yearbooks, but I’m betting you’re in this one. Or’ve at least seen half of them. ” Cue bright smile, and a gesture to the kitchen. “ Coffee or tea? ”

[softreigns-blog]

jack detler.

       he crawls over towards her and lies down, shoulders touching, his hand seeking hers. game night might be over, but they have a tendency to let the evenings drag until sleep settles upon their lids and there’s nothing left to say. fingers interlocking with hers, he raises their arms and paints imaginary drawings into the air. it’s playful, even if they’re sad, because her sadness is his. he wears it with grace because admittedly, and a touch guiltily, his life’s offered a glimmer of light in that respect. sex that didn’t leave him feeling entirely vacant, sex that made him feel whole. even if he hasn’t seen her since. maybe some things were meant to be fleeting, and he’s close - to finding the liberation within that. he rolls onto his side, freeing her hand as he does so. he desperately searches for her flaws, tries to put himself in the shoes of the assholes and the jerks but there’s nothing to find. it’s easy to confuse love with being in love, and he knows he loves her but he thinks that a splinter’s worth of him will always be in love with her. it doesn’t worry him, it just is. ‘   why’d you stay with mickey ? after you guys broke up ?   ’  he questions gently, he doesn’t mean to pry but it’s always been a question on his mind. ‘   it just seems like it would be torture.   ’ lovers never fall completely out of love. or maybe they do, and that’s what he could never grapple with. ‘   you’re not a garbage fire of a person. even if you lose a blackjack. you’re …   ’ he searches for a word she’ll believe. he can’t find it, fundamentally helpless. 

She’s back down on the floor now, the sudden movement and revelation was fleeting — as they always are. Still shoulder to shoulder with him, she ruminates in the sort of sad silence that so rarely gets to be this comfortable. There’s no tears and no comfort for them, only the particular flavor of loneliness they both share. Him less so now, she thinks, and as if a part of her has been ripped away by loss of solidarity: two lonely people is something to joke about, some sort of self-deprecation at the tips of tongues. But one is just sad, pathetic, the sort of person you feel sorry for. She thinks about that a lot — if people really like her, or if it’s all just sympathy. She wants  to tell him she doesn’t know the answer to his question, laugh it off and go back to cards, volunteer to pop open a bottle of wine because it’s a Friday and where do they have to be anyway? But instead, truth seems to rear its ugly head as she speaks. “ I guess, ” She doesn’t guess, she knows. But knowing your faults makes them seem much more permanent. “ I guess I just never know when things are over. ” The truth hurts, Emma knows this, but now it feels like the truth kills. “ I think that if I wait long enough ... people will take me back. Or ... come back. Or care. Or love me in the first place. ” She can feel her throat tighten, and it’s almost reflex when she reaches for his hand, the warmth of interlocked fingers bringing at least some comfort. “ And so I just wait, and wait, and wait ... ” Her whole life has just been waiting. And waiting, and waiting and — she falls back into silence, the moment of the final, grand release of feelings falling back to the ground, no longer suspended in air as the moment continues. She swears she can hear them fall as she prompts a FINISH to the sentence. Her hand squeezes his.  “ I’m ... ? ”

[softreigns-blog]

felix kramer.

   ❝   aw   man,   you’re   tryin’   to   get   me   fired,   huh??   ❞   off   the   clock,   there’d   be   no   hesitation.   the   guy   might   even   end   up   with   a   punch   to   the   nose   too,   if   he   had   a   little   coke   in   his   system.   but   felix   is   on   the   clock   and   now   he’s   got   a   kid   to   look   after,   so   he   can’t   indulge   himself   in   big   scandals   anymore.   ❝   i’ll   do   the   best   i   can,   alright??   ❞   he   pours   the   man   a   refill,   not   so   discreetly   spitting   in   it.   he   holds   it   the   glass   out   to   emma,   grinning.   (   disgusting.   )   ❝   let’s   go   halves   on   this   asshole,   yeah??   ❞

“ Am not trying to get you out of a job ! I just recognize someone less cowardly than me when I see him, ” She protests, and she’s not entirely wrong. Emma doesn’t have the bravery to kill an ant, let alone go opening of a romantic comedy, fuck you asshole! on someone she’d just met that night. Or ever. Now, however, at the not so subtle encouragement from a newfound ALLY in her war against shitty dates, she hops off the barstool, drink in hand. There’s a certain electricity she feels in her right before she does something she knows she probably shouldn’t, and she asks for one last boost of confidence before she lets herself succumb to it. “ Tell me I’m not a bad person if I do this. ”

[softreigns-blog]

jack detler.

        he listens intently because it sounds like she’s about to reveal something that’s cause for revelation, because sayings have that effect on him. however, he tilts his head in confusion because he’s never heard of that which only leads him to believe that what she’s saying might, for the lack of a better phrase, utter bullshit. ‘   okay, first of all. i’ve never heard that. and i spend too much of my time under the relationship quotes section of goodreads so …   ’ the lightheartedness of it all simmers, even though he’s well aware that what she’s feeling is anything but. it’s hard being single, and everyone says that it shouldn’t be but that’s simply not true. being alone isn’t a gauge of self-love or independence, it’s just lonely. ‘   one day you’re gonna remember this conversation. before you walk down the aisle or when you’re grandkids are sitting on your lap. i promise.   ’ it’s not much, he can’t predict the future but he wants it, and wills it so and that should count for something.  a grin forms. ‘   are you telling me you don’t trust my mental math ? smart girl.   ’ he’s pretty sure he’s got it right this time, but he looks over the cards anyways. ‘   got you beat by two.   ’ 

She doesn’t even sit up to check the cards accusingly, or to nervously reach for another fistful of popcorn. She just stays flopped downwards, on her pile of pillows, sulking. There’s no revelation of how loved she’ll one day be, only the ill-fitting costume of impatience. It doesn’t suit her, not with bright smiles and the kind of joy that seems genuine to cynics that call sunshine itself fraudulent. There’s only loneliness, even in memories of love and in the direct face of friendship. And she only stares at the ceiling, blinded by light bulbs she’d insisted on making eco-friendly, and noticing the crack that always gives them trouble on the rare days it rains. She thinks that, in a way, she’s like that. Unnoticed, never causing problems, until some sort of storm happens: and then all she seems to do is wreck havoc, and ruin perfectly good things. “ You have to say that, ” She’s whining, but she believes it — that it’s all merely to make her feel better. “ But I mean, come on. Look at my track record, ” She sits up, abruptly, eyes meeting his, and she doesn’t look accusatory. She just looks sad. “ I mean — literally everything that happened with my family, with my parents. Everything that happened with Mickey, and how much of a disaster I was during all of it. With how Joel treated me, and that was one freaking night. ” Defeat and frustration edge any semblance of confidence out of her voice. “ I am a disaster, garbage fire of a person and, ” She tosses her cards down, suddenly becoming very interested in the floor. “ I can’t even play blackjack. ”

[softreigns-blog]

Request: Edits of Paulina Singer with long curly hair

I know my perspective. So it’s not as hard to be thinking in the same way all the time than [it is] to open up your eyes. You can get a better perception of [a different] perspective by acting from that perspective.

[softreigns-blog]

Tear me to pieces, skin and bone.

[softreigns-blog]

jack detler.

      a card is once more, less than secretly looked at and he presses his lips together in order to stifle what would be a very big smile. once he feels as though he can speak without producing a super obvious tell he says, ‘   i think i’m gonna stand.   ’ and it’s the most he can get out without revealing what he’s sure is a winning hand. ‘   you wanna show your hand first or should we do it at the same time ?’ he’s speaking with little worry, confident that he’s in possession of a hand that’ll grant him glory, a month free of washing laundry and most importantly, free of cat duty. ‘   hate to sound like a cliche but we’re just friends, and even if we weren’t, i’m trying not to be so,   ’ he gestures his hands haphazardly, ‘   about it.   ’ upon the mention of her own tribulations he shakes his head. ‘assholes. you’re the best person i know. and i’m not just saying that.   ’

He is just saying that. She can FEEL it — even if it isn’t true. Inadequacy seemed to be a pattern, a rhythm she’d found herself stuck repeating again and again and again. At this point, she’d date a ROCK just to have the sense of security that comes with not being alone. The sense of ‘maybe there’s nothing wrong with me after all.’ But of course, her prospects always seem to be emptying themselves further. “ Just friends somehow is further than I’ve gotten since the calendar said twenty-seventeen. You know that saying, about how if something goes wrong in relationships or friendships or chatting politely with coworkers you have to look for the common thread in all of them? And it’s always WHOEVER you’re talking about. I’m that thread! ” Cards are flipped without warning, and when he follows suit and she counts a number higher than hers, she DEFLATES even further — electing to FLOP back onto the pillows behind her with a heavy sigh, curls flying everywhere and face buried in decorative cushions. “ Can I get a SYMPATHY recount? ” A mumble sounds out. 

[softreigns-blog]

gideon carlisle.

     gideon did his best to look non-threatening, giving a casual slouch and keeping his hands in plain sight. with a disarming smile, he leaned against the doorway. his smile almost falters when she reveals he won’t be home for a few more hours… that’s not something you tell a stranger. gideon nods, “no, i’mgideon carlisle,” he gives his hand for her to shake. “a friend of jack’s… we go way back. great guy.” 

Slowly, she sticks her hand out and places it in his, shaking it firmly. “ Emma! I’m one of Jack’s roommates if, ” She gestures to the interior of the home with a polite smile. He seems nice enough — attractive, well-groomed, friendly enough to shake hands and not barge in. And he has to be good if he’s a friend of a friend — perhaps that’s trusting naivete, but she believes it. “ That wasn’t obvious already. Uh, you can come back later if you want? Or ... ” The offer lurks on her lips for a second, wondering if it’s worth it. It’s an annoying amount of time to spend in a stranger’s home. But kindness trumps logic, and — “ You can come in and wait for him? I could make coffee or something. See if I can find any embarrassing high school yearbooks for you reminisce with? ”

[softreigns-blog]

mimi dunne.‌

     mimi dismisses the girl’s defensive response with a smile. surely emma had to know jack hadn’t been getting any action– she did, after all, assume that mimi was here with the third roommate. plus, jack didn’t seem like the type of guy who brought home too many women. mimi grimaces at emma’s confession. “ouch, that had to suck. men are the worst,” she says, not the most comforting of responses, but mimi wasn’t the very maternal. she grins, giving emma a light round of applause at how well the pancake turned out. “see? you’re a natural!” she shrugs, “no need to apologize. i  asked.” she breathes out, the burst of air pushing aside a stray blonde tendril. “i met him last night, and now… well, i’m here. guessing he doesn’t do that too often? one night stands, i mean.” 

“ Nah, he was one of the good ones. Things just ... never really seem to work out in my favor. ” The final bit of batter is poured out onto the pan, and she keeps her eyes glued to it as one arm stumbles outward to open the refrigerator and retrieve the maple syrup. “ Though I’m glad things are turning up in JACK’S favor. I wouldn’t exactly know if he was ... getting anything ... or not, he doesn’t SEEM like he’d kiss and tell. ” The pancake is flipped over, and she finally flicks the stovetop off to let it cook with the residual heat. Sliding across the kitchen, socks meeting linoleum, she opens up the cabinet for two plates. The last way she expected to spend her morning was chit-chatting with a one night stand that wasn’t even hers. Though, she supposed with her track record, someone else’s was more likely. Pancakes are scooped onto plates, utensils are retrieved, and she finally turns to the blonde and remembers to ask: “ How many d’ya want? ”

[softreigns-blog]

endless gifs of cheyenne (5/∞)

[softreigns-blog]

pam beesly, the office

[softreigns-blog]

jack detler.

        he peeks at his card, eyes narrowing as he does some very slow mental math. ‘   hit me.   ’ he says with a confidence he regrets but hopefully with his lack of pokerface and her bad one, things will even out. a genuine smile, free of ulterior motive regarding the game appears on his face because she’s just so nice, and without ever having to try. when news had hit, he’d processed it, compartmentalized it and moved on. he’s not sure if it’s a way of coping or just selfishness. ‘   oh so she’s the love of my life now ? news to me.   ’ teasing, but reticent. he’s not sure what she is to her. ‘   tinder been treating you well lately, phillips ?   ’

Another card is flipped down onto his stack, and as the number surely climbs higher, she regrets not hitting her own. Though knowing her luck, she’d BUST. “ I think you guys’d be cute together. You’re a catch! She seems like one too. BOOM! Match made in heaven. ” At the mention of her own love life, she wants to slam her head onto the floor, or maybe throw the hot coffee on her face. At least then she’d have an excuse to cry at the thought. “ NOT WELL, as usual. They might as well put a badge that says SINGLE DATE CHAMPION! On my profile, because no one ever wants to see me twice. The other night, someone hooked up with his ex while I was there. I’m a failure. ”

[softreigns-blog]

charlie james.

@softreigns liked for a starter!

“MUSIC really does have the power to move people.” The raven haired male announced suddenly, brows twisting into a furrow as blue orbs were currently fixated upon the flyer within nimble fingers, “For example, Kyle Marx is playing HERE, at this cafe in t-minus 5 minutes. So I’m going to MOVE and go to another cafe.” Huffing in annoyance as he tossed the flyer to the side, leaning forward across the shared table as he gently poked Emma’s hand with his finger, “Care to join me? I’m just…trying to be a good friend because honestly, if you stay here, you’re ears WILL bleed which doesn’t sound like a fun time to me.”

Nose scrunched together and eyebrows furrowed at the idea — not that she would ever tell Charlie, but she didn’t particularly care about what music was playing as background noise. Nor about who exactly was singing it. “ Okay, sure, I’ll come with you. But I’m more invested in the fact that this guy is named Kyle Marx? ” Mug of coffee is pressed to her lips, and she eyes the microphone in the corner suspiciously — it’s hardly big enough to be looked at by anyone as a stage, but the live music performances who dominated Sunday afternoons and evenings often seemed to consider the corner to be as such. “ Like, is he doing acoustic versions of the Communist Manifesto? I don’t think that’s going to go down all that well. ”

[softreigns-blog]