#bigyellowmoon

[lightsiided]

if they find us here, we're dead. // from una ( in rey’s sw verse! )

* scaredy-cat prompts | accepting

     "i know." the words leave her with BARELY a breath -- they're whispered as quietly as possible while rey holds herself still. she doesn't dare exhale, too afraid that the slightest shift in movement will give their position away.

of course she knows what's at stake. rey's well aware that she dragged una off on this mission, that she'll be RESPONSIBLE if anything goes wrong. this is what happens when you leave without clearance: you get TRAPPED on a star destroyer, no backup to be found. they have to be successful. it's the only thing that will save her from a relentless scolding for rushing off unapproved.

there's a moment that feels like an eternity before the marching footsteps of the stormtroopers in the corridor fade. rey waits, letting the silence stretch. finally, she straightens from where she'd been crouched behind a wall of cargo. "come on. we need to get to the engine room. we'll set these charges and be gone before anyone ever knows we were here. I PROMISE."

@marshthing

[missautumn]

It was a nice thought, that Eli might not be scared of her, having a glimpse of all the good things he did she figured he might change his mind if he knew about why she left Georgia but for now she was content with the idea that he could like her beyond her flaws and sins. Her only answer was a smile. She should proceed with caution with this man, Camila could easily see how she might warm up to his company. "Sounds like a good resolution." The blonde agreed with a chuckle. "Baby steps, though. It's hard to give yourself a break from something you like." 

"I like to think I am- sure." Camila nodded, curious if he'd take her early offer up and she snickered when he confessed why he was asking and then grinned when Eli asked for her help; after she told him he should put himself first, Camila was quick to nod when it was her time to give a hand. They had a serious case of the kettle calling the pot black. "Yeah, of course. I love baking. It'll be easy."

{lil skip time} Camila  knew she shouldn't be neither nervous nor too excited about having Elisha over, they were just going to bake some goodies for the sale, chat some more with some coffee and that'd be that. Still, there was some giddiness inside her the blonde couldn't overlook. When she heard him at the front door, she opened with a smile, dressed in old flare jeans and a green sweater, she moved to let the man in. "How you doing? How's the cold treating ya'?" Camila asked as she led them to the kitchen.

"Really?" he asked, almost cutting her off whenever she told him she might be the sort of person to scare someone off. Eli wore a playful expression of disbelief; Camila could have very well been a mouse telling her something like that. Though he supposed he should stop projecting an image of innocence on the blonde despite her appearance. He had a bad habit of doing things like that, making judgments far too early when he was getting to know someone. Either way, he warmed up, wearing a smile of reassurance. "Well, you can rest easy—you don't scare me."

He gave her a soft nod, thankful for her advice. It was one thing to hear your momma pestering you about such a thing and another to hear it gently, from someone you considered a friend. "You're right. Hey, maybe it'll be my New Year's resolution or something. Could start with not answering every call I get from this place." A chuckle left him; of course he was just joking, as every time he heard on the radio or received a text that there was an emergency nearby, he almost always lent a helping hand. The department wasn't too far away from his place—if he was free, he would be there within minutes.

After a few more minutes of chatting at the firetruck, something popped into Eli's mind. "Listen," he said. "You mentioned being pretty decent at cooking, right? How if I named something, you'd most likely know how to do something." A look of mischief grew on his face. "Well, there's this bake sale coming up for the hospital my ma used to work at before she retired. I know, I know, another community fundraiser thing—after we just talked about me takin' a break—but I already committed, can't say no. Thing is, I can't really bake for shit. I can cook decent, but everything I bake either turns out rock-hard or raw. I was wondering if you'd wanna give me a hand with that sometime? Sale's next week." | @missautumn

[hellfollowed]

3-5 things associated with your muse.

emotions / feelings: laughter, warmth, and joy

greetings: "so, what are we doing?", "what's happening?" and "what's up with it?"

colors: yellow, light blue and a warm brown

scents: flowers, egyptian musk, and coco butter

clothing: bohemian style kinda, beanies and loose shirts. ya boy is stylish ngl but he's lowkey about it.

objects: beat up composition notebook, trusty pen and his airpods.

vices / bad habits: trusting people too quickly, might be a little too laid back at times so it appears as though he's not serious ever and his memory absolutely sucks, thanks to good ol mary jane.

body language: always leaned back in his seat, rubbing at his neck or mumbling poems under his breath (rehearsing for later on that night.)

aesthetics: true soft boy, black boy joy and massive artist vibes (pencil tucked behind his ear) the whole shebang

songs (in no order): will i see you again - thee sacred souls, back to your place - october london and just to keep you satisfied - marvin gaye

tagged by: the otherworldly, @escapedartgeek tagging: @bigyellowmoon (any muse ya want), @worthless-weight-in-gold (anybody, anyone), @spicyundead, @welcometothevale (same to you m'dear) and anyone else who wants to do it just tell 'em I sent ya!

[facepeeled]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄?

in your fingertips

your love is stored in your fingertips; it extends beyond you even when you don't mean for it to. you love through touch, a physical connection that lends you the ability to project beyond words all the things you can't say- the good things, the gentle tender ones that feel like too much to put your own name to. don't worry people understand what you mean; love looks like hands- soft despite the strength.

tagged by: @clownfile ty! tagging: @anthrcpophagi @bigyellowmoon (set!) @bloodrodeo and @sheldoney

[lotsofthumbs]

#bigyellowmoon 🌔🌛🌇 tonight #gnight #bigmoon #canoneos600d

[lightsiided]

    Her eyes light up as soon as the chocolate starts to melt on her tongue. It's been a long time since she's had it last, too. So long she had forgotten the JOY of enjoying a special food like this. Eating not just for survival, but for fun. "Oh, wow. It's excellent. I haven't had it in a long time, either." Though when she last enjoyed it, it was shared, too -- and all the sweeter for it, just as it is now.

Rey studies the expression on Ford's face. It isn't so obvious, but she sees an enjoyment in his eyes, too. The shifts in his gaze are subtle, but they warm her nonetheless. The silence that settles between them is comfortable. And when he smiles... she smiles RIGHT BACK. "Thank you. This was so thoughtful." All of it is.

It's clear Ford has given having her here some consideration -- he has laid out his jacket for her to sit on; he has brought her a gift. Her effort in getting to know him is returned, and what's more: he seems to be EQUALLY as happy about it as she is.

Quickly, Rey shakes her head. "No, now I'm in your debt. You did me a favor, which I repaid. But now you've given me a GIFT. So I need to find something just as wonderful to give you. Although you haven't made it easy on me -- the chocolate was a perfect treat. I'll really have to think about what you might like." Although it's better that way, she thinks. A gift she puts thought into is what he deserves.

"Really, I owe you something spectacular, since you've been so... kind about lending your time to me. It means a lot that you've made space for my company, these last few days. I --" For a moment, Rey hesitates, unsure if she should reveal SO MUCH. She bites at her cheek, glancing away shyly. Then, she continues, "Well, outside of my students, I suppose I don't talk very much with others. At least lately, beyond... the weather, or what's happening in town. So it's been very nice... having you take away some of that loneliness. Really."

Chocolate is a luxury Ford seldom affords himself, his diet mostly comprising of things he can make from what he grows on the farm and a few meals he buys from other stalls when he doesn't feel like cooking. But before he knows it, he's sharing a hay bale with Rey, breaking apart the chocolate bar so he can have nothing more than a morsel. Just for the taste. He hands the rest back to her before popping his piece into his mouth. As expected, it melts on his tongue, velvet, smooth. The right mix of sweet and bitter.

"Mmm."

A smile almost appears on his face. "I haven't had chocolate in... years." It's a bit of an understatement, but he doesn't want to quantify it down to what he knows it to really be. Then it'd be like shining a light on all the time he'd spent wearing that white suit of armor. He's brought back to a more pleasant time in his life, when he and Soleil were just kids; no, when he was a kid and Soleil had been no more than two years old.

Sharing the same kind of chocolate. From a different vendor, of course—a nice old man who he doesn't think is alive anymore. The salty taste reminds him of the only conversation he'd ever had with that man. He grew cacao beans with his wife; a business they took on shortly after they got married. They grew old doing that.

Ford wonders, as the hay pokes him through his pants on the bottom of his thighs, if he'll ever get to that point. He reaches over and absentmindedly straightens up his jacket, which he'd laid out as padding for Rey's seat. So she couldn't feel the same discomfort from sitting right on the hay. He lets that smile creep through on his face, even if it feels unnatural to wear. He can already sense the murmurs swirling about; the questions from others about why someone like him is near someone like Rey when, at one point, they represented different things.

And yet, Ford can't bring himself to amplify their voices. Focuses just on this moment between the two of them.

"This'll be the last time, then," he says. "That we give each other something tangible... other than time."

[lightsiided]

mouth ( from ford!! )

* spicy gestures | accepting

mouth: sender puts their palm over receiver's mouth from behind to keep them quiet / @mutatedangels

     one of these days, she'll learn to LOOK where she's GOING. today is not that day, but at least she's lucky enough to have ford with her to save her from being mauled to death, presumably.

it was just that she'd been so EXCITED to see him, and even more excited to drag him through the forest to the cliffside she'd discovered on one of her runs. it'd been a long week of hardly talking to anyone beyond her students and their parents, and she'd been so busy -- by the time their tentative plans came around rey was itching to see him, desperate to get outside.

she was so busy rambling to him about everything and nothing that she hadn't noticed the creature in their path, as they took a shortcut through the jungle. in fact, she hadn't noticed a single thing beyond him and how QUICKLY he'd reacted.

so now she stands frozen, back pressed snug against his chest. ford is warm behind her, broad and well-muscled, holding her firmly. rey stares wide-eyed at the animal paying them no mind, the gasp she'd first exhaled muffled against the hand ford has clapped over her mouth, LARGE enough to cover the entire bottom half of her face.

she feels her cheeks burn with a flush. rey's suddenly very grateful he can't see her expression. it's been a long time since anyone has touched her with such intent. certainly the two of them have never been so close before. something in her chest flutters with a twist of nerves. the moments that tick by feel preternaturally long. as they drag on, rey finds she can't get her thoughts straight enough to wonder what the creature they're meant to be so afraid of EVEN IS, but eventually it moves on, wandering off into the jungle in the opposite direction.

SLOWLY, ford releases her. the hand that had covered her mouth falls away, and she clears her throat, willing the blush on her face to fade before she'll be forced to turn around and look at him.

which she does, after a moment, with arched eyebrows. there's a sheepishness to her expression, like she was the one who'd grabbed HIM and held him so close to her he could feel her breaths on the back of his neck. there's goosebumps there, now, coaxed forward by the memory.

"thanks for that, i think," rey says, shifting back and forth on her feet. they're still standing so very close together. teeth bite at her bottom lip, but she doesn't move away, only tipping her chin up to look him in the eye. "you've got pretty..." big hands, she thinks dumbly, trying not to stare at them. "quick reflexes."

[pacificgrimsarc]

full-tiltboogie > bigyellowmoon!

[pacificgrimsarc]

bigyellowmoon > marshthing!!

[missdcalls]

Much to Chessie's surprise, her daughter is flying around the rink. She's rather clumsy any other time, but apparently was a whole different kid while on ice. Odd. It didn't make sense, but Teddy never did. The blonde smiles fondly as she watches her go around and around, wondering if it were time to get her into skating.

Thoughts are interrupted by her ex's quip. "You know just as well as I do that I'm not perfect, Rich." Rolls her eyes as she continues to skate besides him. He resembles a baby deer, walking for the first time. Unsteady. Ready to fall at any given moment. It makes her laugh.

"I'm not good at baking. Remember that time I tried to bake an apple pie? It did not turn out as planned. I haven't tried since, but I'm sure the outcome would be the same." She responds. Doesn't take the opportunity to brag about her talents but rather, talk about her faults. She had them, like everyone else in the world did. Chessie just...didn't like to showcase them often. Always wanted to present herself in a certain way. She had her parents to blame for that one.

"You could probably kick my ass in the kitchen. I know how to make a few things, but nothing compared to you. Or Carmy. Or Syd. I need Syd to be my personal chef." Even if her life went to shit, at least she'd have good food.

"Teddy! Careful!" She calls out, watching as their daughter almost runs into a full grown man trying to figure out how to balance. Chessie lets out a groan. "She's definitely your kid. Just plowing through everyone, not paying any sort of attention. Except she's totally kicking your ass at skating. You need one of those walkers they give the really little kids to help you get around?" // @bigyellowmoon

"Ancient as I may be, your mom at one point found me attractive." Richie cracks a devilish grin, and Teddy breaks out in a cartoonish ewww!, her mouth puckering up like she's just tasted a Lemonhead for the first time. He has a feeling that Chessie's making a similar face, and it's the sort of second-nature hunch you don't have to confirm. His own grin dissipates unceremoniously, reminded of who he was back when they first met—most people look back and reminisce about all the good things, like how skinny or successful or sprightly they were. For him, all the ways he fucked up just seem magnified when he gets nostalgic.

=

On the ice, Teddy skates just as fast as she talks, but she's less interested in catching up with her dad and more interested in zooming along the ribbon rink, not paying much attention to her surroundings. The couples and other families should know better, anyway, Richie thinks, than to get in her way. Staying a few feet back with Chessie, he looks out at their daughter and finds himself marveling again—marveling that he could have ever once been responsible for such a magical thing, a wonderful person. His heart does grieve, but only for a second; for all the shit Teddy's had to trudge through with her parents' divorce, she's still bright and shiny.

"Don't forget to look up!" Richie calls out to Teddy, and she hollers back something unrecognizable. He laughs. Well, if anybody crashes into Teddy in any way, he's ready to fight on the ice.

He skates alongside Chessie, feeling a bit like a baby deer just getting used to their legs. People Richie's height shouldn't be on ice, he thinks; or, if they are, they should at least have orange cones floating along with them, indicating to everyone else they're a hazard.

"So are you good at everything? Or is there something you're shit at and you just hide it 'cause you don't want anybody else suspecting you're an alien?" he finally asks Chessie, referring to her skills on the ice, joking. | @falscgcds

[thedevilsbckbone]

Yvette was still processing her attack and injury, her heart racing wildly as adrenaline rushed through her veins which caused her entire leg to numbly burn and she wondered if she had gone into shock. However, before she had a chance to think further on that, the sound of the creature's screeching cry echoed through the dark tunnel sounding closer once again. The thing was coming back, she realization in complete terror. Instantly, Eli was lifting her body up and tossing her over his shoulder.

They were moving she realized a second later, heading back in the direction of the entrance and this time the brunette would not put up a fight. Eli was moving so quickly that it made the brunette bounce and she tried to hold her head up so she could see behind them to check if that thing was still coming. It was hard to see in the dark and she lifted her hand with the flashlight to try and see. Despite the dread of knowing that thing was after them, she had a gnawing urge to see what it was - to see what had attached her. She didn't think it had sounded like any kind of bear or wolf she'd ever seen, there'd been something about it that had sounded wrong.

Her flashlight bounced off the walls until it caught a flash of something not far from them, causing the brunette to startle. Still, despite the trembling in her limbs, she continued to look, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. It was pale and looked unnaturally large. It didn't look to have fur either. Instead she caught a glimpse of what looked to be long spindly limbs, then antlers, then teeth - long and sharp like jagged bone fragments. Yvette could not process what she was seeing, as if every part she saw of it didn't seem to go together. It was like some sort of abomination. A demon.

The sheer sight of it was enough to make Yvette's blood run cold and she looked away again, dropping her head and screwing her eyes shut in terror. She braced in anticipation as she expected to feel those razor sharp teeth take hold of her again. No. No. No - please god don't let me die here. She silently prayed to herself.

Then suddenly, weightlessness and a white blinding brightness overwhelmed Yvette's sense for a flash before it all came to stop as she hit a hard surface with a loud thud. The force had knocked the wind out of her and she tumbled forward a few feet until she landed on her stomach just beside a large tree.

She barely even have time to register what had happened but she realized they were out of the mine. Quickly lifting her head, eyes wildly sweeping around as she expected to see that thing again, but luckily it didn't seem to follow, hearing it's cries of anger echo in the dark cavern of the mine entrance before disappearing. She let out a loud sigh of relief but was startled by Eli as he came beside her. "Eli!" she said in relief, grasping onto his shoulder.

As he held her face, making sure she was okay, Yvette's eye continued to jump back and forth between him and the mine entrance, still half expecting to see that monster again. "I-I don't..." she said, panting and shaking her head as she tried to make sense of what the hell had just happened and what they had just seen. One thing she knew though was that she was far from okay. She nodded as he mentioned having to carry her, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there - after all, they weren't out of the woods yet.

--—

It was already dark by the time they reached his watch tower and Yvette felt exhausted. Eli had to help her up the stairs and once inside, he put her down on the couch. She turned to him, expecting Eli to go to call for help but instead she watched right as he collapsed to the floor as he passed out. She jumped down onto the floor, ignoring the searing pain in her leg, as she crawled over to him and began to pat his face, trying to wake him. "Eli! Eli - wake up! Please, please wake up!" She urged him desperately but the officer was out cold.

She sat up, gasping in alarm as her eyes flew to the windows that sat perched upon each of the walls, staring out into the bleak darkness, feeling as if something was watching them. Fear sank deep as she realized they were helpless with him out. She had to do something.

Crawling her way back to the couch, she pulled down one of the pillows and lifted Eli's head to slid it beneath him, carefully letting his head down back down. He was too heavy, and with her condition, she knew she had no chance of moving him, so she did her best to make him at least a little comfortable.

Hours had passed and somehow the brunette had managed to bandage up her leg and use a cloth to clean up both her own, as well as Eli's, cuts and scrapes up. She'd tried to use the radio in the corner of the room to call for help but couldn't seem to work it properly. They were stuck there until morning, or at least until Eli woke up. At least, she hoped and prayed that he'd wake up.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hour, and Yvette was fighting the exhaustion that threatened to overtake her. She was too scared to sleep, worried if he did that thing would come here and get them. She sat beside Eli, her head resting back against the couch as she gripped the knife she'd retrieved from the kitchen tightly in her hands. Every rustle of leaves; every twig snapping, every hoot of an owl, would draw Yvette's attention towards the windows, to the inky blackness of the night sky, half expecting to see that thing standing there - waiting for her.

She felt like she was going mad.

Was that what her sister had seen? Is that what took her? | @bigyellowmoon

It's coming back.

Eli listened for the creature, hushing Yvette. The clacking of its hooves faded. And for a moment, perhaps foolishly, he felt enough at ease that they could high-tail out of the mine and never look back. But not another second passed before the sound of the creature galloping grew louder and louder, as if circling back toward them from the other side of the wall until its chase led it to the dead-end of the tunnel. Perhaps it would emerge from below.

Eli's heart sank to his stomach. Pure fear dilated his pupils. He shot his head back toward Yvette and hoisted her up over his shoulder in one fell swoop. "We gotta go. Now!"

He rushed for the exit, that light at the other end of the tunnel growing larger and larger, from a speck to a full-sized moon. Something fell out of his belongings and clinked onto the hard ground, but he didn't dare stop to pick it up. It would be lost for good, but everything could be replaced. The creature was gaining on them now, and Eli cussed, feeling it hot on his trail. Don't look behind you. Don't look behind you.

But some unknown voice suddenly invaded his brain, screeching one thing: Look!

He couldn't. He wouldn't. He won't.

The exit—or entrance?—to the mine was just mere feet away now. He could see a sliver of the sun in the horizon, past the trees, disappearing into the mouth of the sky.

Look!

Willed by a force unknown and unseen, possibly the very same force that had infiltrated his consciousness, Eli glanced over his shoulder. To see it.

Limbs. Horns. Hooves. Glowing yellow eyes.

Was it even real?

He gasped, snapping his head forward, seeing those fences at the entrance—exit?—of the mine close enough that he swore he could touch them. They were right there. And though Eli didn't know whether they would be safe once they were out of the mine, he had to believe it, pray to some God out there, somebody, whoever was listening, that there was an invisible threshold that this creature couldn't bypass and it was right at the mouth of the mines.

Shutting his eyes tight, he kicked off his final step and hurled himself forward and out of the mine, holding onto Yvette tightly. He landed on his back, breaking the woman's fall yet again; however, the force of his fall caused him to let go of her. All he could do was hope she was safe.

He heard a roar and opened his eyes. The creature had its back turned to them now, retreating back into the darkness of the mine. As if it couldn't go into the light. Breathing heavily, Eli gathered his strength and looked for Yvette, who was thankfully only a couple of feet away from him. He crawled over to check on her, picking her up and getting the both of them on their feet.

"Are you alright?" Though he knew the answer to that was no, and if she asked him, he'd say the same thing. He held her face in his hands, thumb dipping into the trail of blood near her hairline, the sensation of it reminding him of pressing into an ink pad. Despite looking shaken up from her injuries, she was breathing, and that was all that mattered to him.

Suddenly, a wolf howled in the distance, startling him. Eli let go of Yvette's face and looked down at her leg, the creature's teeth having left its marks on her skin. It looked like she'd been attacked by a bear. "You can't walk like this," he said, breathing heavily. "I have to carry you. C'mon."

Although he, too, was in shock at what they'd just seen and heard, he needed to get them as far away from the mine as possible. And he didn't want to tell her this, but the blood on her leg and face would surely attract the wolves. They were in the grip of nature and they had to yank themselves out or they'd never be let go.

-

Eli had commanded one of the ATVs that were parked near the mines at one of the secondary outposts of all the lookouts, where some supplies and a couple of vehicles lived in case of emergency. Riding the four-wheeler back to his bird's nest cut their time in more than half, which he was thankful for since the sun was almost completely set now, painting the entire forest a deep, inky blue.

He helped Yvette make the climb up to his lookout, where they would be safe for the rest of the night. Though Eli couldn't help but feel like that thing was still on their tracks. It wrought complete dread into him, a feeling that not even the safety of the lookout couldn't salve. He set Yvette down on the couch before collapsing onto the cold, wooden floor.

Everything was black. // @thedevilsbckbone

[facepeeled]

cricket lets soleil curl into her arms, she holds her tight, thinking she might float away. or maybe something will pull her away. she listens to soleil's story, running her hand through her hair, trying to sooth her. trying not to let the horror on her own face show, and scare the younger girl.

when she's done with the recap, and sobbing in cricket's arms, cricket isn't sure what to say. she sits there in silence for what feels like an extremely long time. finally, she decides to just assure her. "i'm not gonna leave you," she says, "not ever." there's no one else on this commune that she loves as much as soleil. she wouldn't leave even if the next time this happened, soleil decided to take a bite out of her.

"but you know i can't take you to the hospital. it's against the rules." his rules. the ones designed to keep all the women and girls here under his thumb. besides, even if she could, she doesn't see what help doctors would be. it's obvious to cricket this isn't an illness. it's something far worse.

"i'll just have to keep an eye on you," she says, matter of fact. like it'll help. but it's the best cricket can offer.

Soleil places a hand over Cricket's wrist as she wipes her up, the wet rag cooling down her warm skin. She feels feverish, but she's holding onto the other girl, the only thing she knows that could take care of her in this world. In this situation. The others would cast her out, kill her, or worse, report her to their authority holder—him.

Eventually, once she's cleaned up and feeling a chill from the rag, she guides Cricket's hand away from her. She pries the rag away from Cricket, her face squeezing in disgust at the dried blood on it, and sets it aside. Takes a breath, then curls herself into Cricket's arms. What a pathetic thing to do, but all the same, it's the only thing she can think of doing right now.

"I don't know," she finally answers, voice barely there. She clears her throat and speaks again, stronger this time. "I think... I was talking to 'im. He was... scoldin' me about somethin' or maybe tellin' me to do somethin' 'fore I just... blacked out." She shakes her head. "I remember bein' angry at him about it. Lockin' myself up in the room, maybe. Then somethin' pulled me outside..." The more she speaks, the more she remembers what she did, and the more horrified she becomes of it. "Made me grab that—that poor animal and—"

She breaks out in a sob, holding onto Cricket for dear life. "I don't know what's wrong wi' me. Maybe you should take me to the hospital, or... Please just don't leave me." // @facepeeled

[lightsiided]

     "Oh." It's been a long time since she's met anyone LIKE HER. Maybe that's why Kirk has always felt so easy to talk to. Since the day they met, opening up to him has been natural, easy. As if there's an unspoken understanding between them.

"So -- you kind of know what it's like. It's... I guess I just mean that here feels as much like home as anywhere else, you know?" Which is to say... not much. But maybe one day she'll find that place that feels magical to her.

A smile splits her face again as he gets comfortable, and she dips her chin, returning to her coffee. "Thanks. It is pretty tough, but it'll all be over soon. Then I'll probably be MISSING the long nights in the library... and all the weekends I spend here, staring at my laptop and bothering you."

Rey laughs, then, teeth biting briefly at her bottom lip to stop her grin from spreading. The coffee metaphor has certainly hit its mark; she finds it incredibly cute. "I know what you mean. And you're so... social. You probably LOVE getting to talk to everyone here. Or me, at least," she finishes teasingly, her voice playful.

"Wow -- that sounds incredible. You never told me about that!" Her eyes light up; for all the complaining Rey always does about her projects, she welcomes the opportunity to turn the floor to Kirk, for once. "Tell me EVERYTHING. What's it about, how long have you been working on it?"

He gets it. This feeling of being left behind or at least, being afraid to be. Kirk's roommates, his best friends, branched out after they graduated college. Joey went to New York and opened up his own architecture firm, Ben is in the same city working in publishing, and Slater... Well, Slater's doing his own thing, probably, somewhere in Miami. As the analogous middle child between the four of them, Kirk stayed back and held the proverbial fort down.

Left behind, sort of.

Kirk gives Rey a gentle smile. "That's awesome. I mean, not the foster care thing," he chuckles, "but the scholarship. I was, uh, adopted, but super young."

He hopes he's not making it about himself by mentioning that. Kirk only wants Rey to feel like she isn't alone. He'll never understand what it's like to be a foster kid, raising yourself... but his dad (one of two) works in the system and he's heard stories. It's a colossal thing to try and dismantle, his dad told him. The best you can do is be try and be there for every kid.

"No, no. I commend you. Honestly, it takes a lotta work to be in a Master's program, and..." He trails off, knowing she's probably heard all of this praise before. He leans back against his stool, as far as he can without toppling the whole thing over, and places his palms between his legs on the cushion. In his mind, he either has this real casual look to him or he looks like an idiot.

Head tilting side to side in contemplation, Kirk answers, "I guess. It's simple enough that the pressure's not too much, you know, and if it ever does get bad I can just release the valve and let a lil' steam out." A coffee metaphor? He's disgusted with himself. "I'm working on a manuscript for a comic right now, and, uh, I wanna try finishing that and getting it sold before I make any drastic changes."

[lovemangled]

His response pulls a smile out of her, but her glance moves back to Evelyn, making a mental note to find ways to ease her stress throughout the day. She foolishly, perhaps, hoped she could find a way to complete this task without Evelyn realising as Lottie knew she'd never allow her to lift a finger. Charlotte knew there were many moving parts that she wasn't aware of, and the possibility for things to veer off course was lingering in the air, but the last thing she wanted for the woman who always welcomed Lottie into their home was to spend her daughter's wedding day getting lost in the details. "—I'm suddenly starving," she chuckles, turning back towards him. She took in a quick breath upon realising how close their faces were before moving further away ever so slightly and shifting her attention towards the beautician. She had never been so engrossed in a person's nail polish collection. "You'd tell me, right?" She adds eventually, casting whatever she felt aside as quickly as possible. "If there is anything I can do today to lighten the load?"

At the mention of the bride, Charlotte redirects her attention again and can't help but smile as she watches Eden's continuing transformation. "Of course she is. Today is her day, she's marrying the person of her dreams. Fireworks and champagne. All that good stuff." In their youth, the pair spent hours discussing their dream weddings, what they'd look like, the elegant dresses they'd wear, and most importantly, the person waiting at the end of the aisle. In her heart, she knew that Eden had found the person who spoke to her soul, and that was all the blonde had ever wanted for her. His question intrigues her as she can't help but wonder if her mother had spoken to Evelyn recently, lamenting about Charlotte's disastrous love life. It wouldn't surprise her if Evelyn decided to take matters into her own hands, but Eli's interest in it was unexpected. Perhaps Evelyn had asked him to gather intel. However, he was most likely merely being polite, asking a question to distract from the fact that he was being subjected to endless beauty practices. "No, no boyfriend—" She glanced back at him with a tentative smile, recalling a conversation she had with Evelyn earlier, "but now that you say that, your ma has been asking me about what kind of guys I like ... wondering when I'll settle down, telling me about all of the eligible bachelors that will be at the wedding— I thought we were just catching up." Dumbfounded, she raises a hand to her forehead and chuckles. "I can't believe it took me this long to realise ... I smell a scheme and I bet my mom is involved." / @bigyellowmoon

Eli almost cracks a smile. His mother is by no means a recluse (everyone in this zip code knows Evelyn King's name whether they want to or not, from her tirades at the dry cleaners to her demands whenever she visits the auto shop for her Lexus) but it takes someone who's been around this house proper for them to know that she's the type of woman who stress cooks, and when she's feeling that way, her food comes out the best. At one point, during his teenage years, he'd give his ma a hard time on purpose just so she'd whip up dessert from scratch during dinner, and she did—nine times out of 10, it felt like. Being in trouble was one thing, but having a bite of her apple cake or babka made being the resident criminal all worth it. In other words, somehow, under his nose, Lottie's been around longer than he realized. "Nah, that doesn't sound terrible at all," he says with a chuckle, then he leans in as if disclosing a secret. "She's had that brisket cooking on the grill since 4 a.m., just in time for lunch."

He listens intently to the blonde beside him as the beautician starts giving him a manicure, the whole thing a bit ticklish but nothing he doesn't get used to right away. If his military buds could see him now... oh, they'd all be getting a kick out of this and making fun of him for the rest of his days, save for maybe Nancy who'd been begging for nearly a decade now for a girl friend to have a spa day with, and one that won't be too whiny or shrill when they get there. And for some reason, Nancy's always thought Eli fit the bill. Just as she's telling him he's never looked better, another beautician props a handheld mirror in front of him so he can see his masked-up face. He looks silly, he knows. But across the way, Eden's happy. "Guess Eden is havin' fun," he says. When the lady with the mirror walks away, he turns his attention over to Lottie. "How about you? You have a boyfriend you're bringing to the wedding? Sure my ma's got you set up with some guy she met at temple. Pretty soon, you'll be doing this all over again." As pretty as Lottie is... | @lovemangled

[lvebug]

with his back turned, her focus returns to the pages. who needs coffee when she's jittery on this conversation? she lifts one page at the corner to peek at the next—more bright splashes of color and arcing lines, work just as beautiful as those of her. there's so many questions, really. she's not sure she's ever been drawn before. okay, well, little kids draw her as lovebug, that's pretty common (and so extremely sweet that andie melts with it), but this is different. this isn't someone drawing her because they admire her as a public figure or look up to her. this is just someone drawing— her. nothing like being a muse to bring color to your cheeks and a butterfly-flutter to the beat of your heart.

"a girl in a magazine, huh?" her elbow comes to the counter, chin braced in her palm as she gazes across the counter at him. he's sweet and she likes sweet things. "lucky girl then, if you're drawing her so beautifully." and then, just to give him an out, because he really does seem flustered enough which is cute, but also she's starting to get worried for her coffee. "do you want to be an artist?"

The last thing he's expecting is for her to lean on the counter too, the distance between them growing ever smaller. Suddenly it feels like his nonchalant movements are under a microscope, and he's back to losing his cool again. Heat pulses on the back of his neck and trails up to his cheeks. Nobody outside of class and his parents and his old college roommates and judges have ever seen his work, and they don't really count because they're not the naked eye, the passer-byer who, hypothetically, might see his comic at a Barnes and Noble and either pick it up or bypass it. And that adds all the more pressure.

She seems to like it, though. Is that a glint in her eye or has the caffeine finally caught up to her? He manages a smile before reaching out for her mug. "Yeah. Yup. Sure thing." With his back turned to her, his attention can sink into the espresso machine even if just for a few seconds as he brews two new shots into her coffee-stained mug. The grinding of beans, the whirring of the machine, the drip of the espresso—it all helps him process what he's going to say next, how he's going to answer her question, which has him feeling like there's a darn frog stuck in his throat.

Back to being casual, he glances over his shoulder just barely, knowing exactly what she's pointing to but pretending like he doesn't. "That drawing? I mean. Psshhh," he chuckles, "it's just. I dunno. Some girl I saw in a dream." He flicks the espresso machine off because it's done pouring its shots, and he nearly kicks himself. What he just said will probably make it worse. But he clears his throat, pouring the shots in her cup and then beginning to foam some milk. Maybe the loud whistling sound of the steam warming up the milk will distract her from what they both know to be true.

"I mean. Some girl I saw in a magazine," he talks over the steamer. "A magazine."

[someotherdog]

where did asa go when he entered that writing space? when nadine dared to bother him in the piano room, she could only get vague grunts in response to anything she said, and his glassy eyes barely lifted from the laptop to cast her a quick glance whenever she tried to get his attention. she tried to reason to herself that she shouldn’t bother the artist at work, that he was so entranced by his own words that he couldn’t bring himself back to earth long enough to kiss her, and that she was being selfish when she felt annoyed by his incessant need to write. even if he completely ignored her, sometimes she went into that room just so she wouldn’t feel so alone. 

when she was completely silent, she could hear the wind battering the windows, or the pipes hissing behind the walls. if she was completely silent, she could hear whispering in the walls. she could hear screaming outside. she could hear laughter coming out of the ballroom. she could hear benny talking to someone that wasn’t there when she entered his room. she could hear the typing on asa’s computer. she could hear her mother calling to her, telling her to come in from the backyard before the streetlights came on. she could hear her father bitching at the television when the cardinals lost a game. she could hear her childhood friends whispering about a clown in the sewer. she could hear someone in her ear telling her to leave the overlook before they took benny.

there was never anyone there, though. she would look to her left and see no one telling her that her family was in danger. her parents were in st. louis like they always had been, only a phone call away yet she never called. she couldn’t remember the last time she spoke to any of her childhood friends. there was no one screaming, no one laughing, no one at all! no one but herself, her husband, and her son. 

“hm, i wonder where he gets that from?” nadine teased, a tender smile on her face. maybe all mothers thought their children were geniuses, but nadine knew that benny was. he took after his father in almost every single way, and for a long time she had been jealous that her son didn’t share many traits with her, but maybe that was okay. she wanted her son to grow up happy and healthy, to not worry about money or the next sale or a new realtor that was washing out, to not have such a cutthroat drive for success. if her son grew up to be just like his father, a beautiful man with a brilliant mind and a passion for the arts. benny would hopefully find a loving partner that could support him in any creative endeavor and never have to sacrifice family for work—so, the exact opposite of nadine.

there was another (slight) grievance she had with putting her life on pause to take care of the overlook: she had to play little suzy homemaker—a role that nadine had never had to fill before, not fully. not comfortably. nadine had been a workaholic since college and even after starting a family with asa, she had been the queen of takeout and mcdonald’s on the way home from picking benny up at school. it didn’t matter how much success she had in real estate, she never felt like more than a failure when she saw the other moms in the pick up line or at pta meetings, walking in with homemade lemon bars and completely devoted to their child. they probably didn’t try to exclude nadine so much, but if they were doing it purposefully, well, they fucking succeeded. was it better to be totally alone in a room full of other people or totally alone in a secluded, snowed-in hotel?

well, she wasn’t totally alone.

just as she had asa again, he was gone. her teasing smile dropped from her face when asa suddenly looked back at her as he always did when sat at his laptop. sometimes, even when asa wasn’t writing and actively interacting with his family, she still saw that same glassy look. those same vague responses. 

over the last few weeks, she had become increasingly familiar with his abrupt changes in demeanor. “okay, i’ll get benny up.” nadine said cheerily, though she knew her husband wouldn’t say much in response. quickly, she left to enter their son’s room and announce that daddy wanted to go sledding. luckily for nadine, benny loved his father more than reading. fast as she could, nadine dressed benny appropriately for the weather, then sent him off with asa so she could get ready herself. she tried to avoid the mirror in the hallway as she pulled on her snowsuit, hat, and gloves before exiting their apartment and making her way through the winding halls and rooms of the overlook.

she heard her son’s giggles before she saw them as she crested the small hill to the east. “mommy!” benny squealed once he noticed nadine approaching. clearly the pair had sledded down the hill a few times already. nadine tried to push down all her worries and enjoy the scene, but it was hard when it felt like the hotel itself was staring down at her back. it was just a building. she had to remember it was just a building. “will you ride down with me, mommy?” benny smiled brightly at her. “in a little bit, hon.” nadine answered, smoothing her hand over his little knitted hat. shrugging, he turned away from her and sled down again.

she turned her attention to asa just as benny did. the glassy look was gone. thank god. watching as asa and benny fit themselves on the sled, she crossed her arms across her chest for warmth, then realized asa was addressing her. “absolutely!” bending forward, she gave a kiss to benny’s head and then asa’s before she put her hands on the back of the sled, then pushed. hard. harder than she meant to.

"Of course," Asa couldn't help but smile at the mention of their son's unbreakable reading habit. "We should've known he'd read through his whole stash within two weeks." His eyes flickered to the pile of books stacked horizontally on the bookshelf in the living room, imagining Benny picking one up and, hours later, setting it down to create a new pile.

At one point, there were two piles—about a dozen chapter books of different, popular children's series and one-offs. Separately kept were a couple of animal and world encyclopedias, though the world one wouldn't be touched, Asa knew, unless Benny was really that bored. Now the main fiction pile had migrated over to the right, telling Asa only one thing, something he'd assumed: Benny had already finished reading everything he brought and, being the voracious reader he was, was now resorting to scouring around the Overlook for something different. Creatures of habit that we are, Benny likely found an earlier installment in his beloved Percy Jackson series—he was up-to-date—that he hadn't brought and decided to go down memory lane.

Little by little, Benny was growing into his father. Benny was barely 7 years old but reading above his grade level, grabbing books targeted at middle school-aged kids and long bored of his set of My First I Can Reads, even if he hadn't gotten to the better-known stories yet. Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? was growing dust back at home, and it wouldn't be long before Benny would graduate from Percy Jackson to Harry Potter and so on. Asa didn't have as many fun options when he was young—he started with the grim tales of V. C. Andrews when he turned 9—but the core was the same. Benny was smarter than all the other kids, and at points, smarter than his parents. Asa had been the same way, and it was what launched him into being a scholar—a professor at one of the Ivy League schools, a playwright who was coming off the heels of his well-attended debut one-man production. Life was going as he'd always imagined until

Six hours. Six hours. Six hours.

Six days. Six days. Six days.

Six fingers. Six fingers. Six fingers.

Benny doesn't need all 10

"Daddy!"

Asa felt a harsh tug on his coat sleeve. It was Benny. "Daddy! You said you were gonna go with me for this one." He pointed over at the sled, bouncing as he stood. Kids had no bones, it felt like. Asa could already feel his bones aching after one ride on this thing.

"Alright, ranger, I'm coming!" He laughed, swooping Benny up from his feet before he could run too far ahead. Asa sat on the sled first, then pulled Benny in between his legs. "Hold on tight," he told his son, who grabbed the handle at the front of the sled. They were atop one of the smaller hills that separated the hotel itself from the rest of the Overlook property; Asa could already see a long strip of no-snow that Benny had carved from his last few rides on the sled. How come Asa couldn't remember any of that?

Asa glanced over his shoulder at his wife, squinting one eye so he could see her past the snow. "You mind giving us a push, baby?" | @someotherdog