#icarianncarrionn

[whileurmine]

"Yeah, I just took the paternity test, look at her eyes." Charlie laughed through a sigh. He'd written songs all by himself that ended up with less of him in it than her bright blue eyes. It felt almost like a joke, really. Not how genetics worked, not how they were supposed to work anyway. The sort of chord that only worked because it was not part of the progression he was playing. He wanted— He wanted a time machine. That was it. Nothing else would come close to fixing it. "I think I blocked your number." He confessed halfway through the sort of strained noise that could have so easily been mistaken for a whine. The blackhole inside his chest ate away at the edges of him, taking in more and more. "I, fuck." There were other culprits, he was sure, people who could have made this meeting happen some time in the last five thousand days. People he could blame if he wanted to blame someone. People who should have helped. But there was him too. "I was, I was so in love, I was crazy about you, and I thought it was a summer fling for you. I, it was killing me, I just figured If I cut all contact, it would make it easier to get over you." It had felt childish already then. Because he was a child when he did it. Twenty-nothing. A dumbass without a driver's license or the ability to do groceries. One fifth of his life spent more famous than anyone should ever end up. With people not only willing to do every single adult task that would ever be required of him, but asking him to give them up, so he could go back to focusing on the one skill that was lining up everyone's pockets. It had been childish then, yes, but it was just terrible now. Writing songs about his heartbreak while she was pregnant in another country trying to talk to him. "Jesus fucking Christ. I must have. I'm sure, I was crying and drinking and writing shit about you, and I did, I—" He ran a hand through his hair over and over again. It barely moved at all despite his best attempts to ruin it. "That's must have been why, that must have been why you couldn't call, I, I didn't know, I don't. It sounds so fucking stupid now. I'm so sorry."

Tisha swallows down a burning mouthful of whiskey, shaking her head hard. “No, that’s not- exactly the opposite, actually. In my memory…” in her memories he’s softhearted and moody, and beautiful in the way people only are when you’re remembering the past. In her memories they’re in love, or closer to it than they ever could have been in reality, lying together on her cheap sheets in the golden sunlight, and if any one thing had happened, if he had her number, if she had waited a little longer, if she’d found a way to call him, they would still be as impossibly in love as they never were, despite all evidence to the contrary. “It’s been a long time, Cash. And we didn’t know each other that well. I didn’t know if you’d believe me, or if you would want a paternity test first and I’d have to figure that out, or if the last sixteen years turned you into an asshole, or if you’d freak out and need time to process. Shit, I always figured you didn’t know, but there was always a chance my messages got to you and you didn’t want anything to do with us. All Chaarvi knows is that her parents loved each other,” maybe a bit of a stretch, but what the fuck else was she gonna say? “and her dad is a wonderful guy, and through no fault of his I lost contact with him and couldn’t get in touch and he’s out there somewhere. She knows her dad doesn’t know about her, and that sucks, but it’s a lot better than hearing he does know and doesn’t want her. I couldn’t tell her what I was doing until I knew you were still the guy I remember you being.”

[adsagsona]

"That's better than what I usually hear - I'm told I kick in my sleep." Which is a much more diplomatic way of saying that her nightmares make her a real fucking problem to be around, unless she goes to bed so drunk that it's more sedation than rest.

@icarianncarrionn

"Yeah? I haven't noticed it yet." Bran answered with a smile. "You did mumble a few times but I didn't really pay attention." Bran was one of those lucky people who slept almost the moment his head hit the pillow. "So... you didn't sleep ok? I hope I didn't snore or anything." He slowly stretched before dropping back on the pillow and turning towards Tisha.

[radicalrascals]

@icarianncarrionn liked for a starter from one of my pwetty bois:

They've only just made it back from Brazil two days ago, suitcase full of goods, and when Rafa came to visit Nick to surprise him with a huge care package, the older brother expected nothing more than to reconnect, perhaps getting scolded for leaving without saying anything... or not calling in when the gates to Squid Hell opened and time had become a mere suggestion. Much to his delight, Nick was exceptionally chipper and even more quick on forgiving him than usual.

It could've been such a nice evening. But then the doorbell rang and Rafa realised that he would have to share his fish stew along with his brother's attention. He sighed and fetched another plate, feeling more like introducing the dish than himself: "We're having moqueca."

"Rafa made it," the younger brother added as a side note, "Anyway. Hari, this is my brother Rafael. Rafa, this is Hari, ... my boyfriend."

Rafael's jaw tightened ever so slightly. Annoyance instantly yielding a watchful gaze, not unlike that of a predator. "É mesmo assim...? How long have you two been together?"

[whileurmine]

"Yeah, I have." He shrugged, voice light, pulling her closer and coaxing her into sitting on his lap. "And I knew that I wasn't enough. Didn't change much of anything that I did though." Decker reached forward, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Baby, I don't think love's this thing that only happens when mirrored, in perfect circumstances, where no one gets hurt. It's just, I don't know. Like, an ask. Here's everything I got, please don't hurt me. And they do, or don't. Sometimes you love someone so much it feels like you're being stupid, and they love you a little and there's nothing you can do." He chuckled. "Maybe he loved you so much, he knew he couldn't stay with you any longer, because what he wanted and what you wanted weren't the same. Maybe he didn't love you enough and now you get to make plans with someone who does. Maybe he's just a dick. Like a real fucking asshole." Decker laughed. "In which case thank fuck he's gone. Can you imagine being sixty and stuck with an asshole? I've heard the catholics are real sticklers for the rules when it comes to divorce."

“I don’t know the answer to that, Decker. I don’t know. It might have changed everything. Maybe I never would have been with him in the first place if I’d known…” Geetha chews on her bottom lip. “Have you ever just… not been enough for someone? Why were we even together? Did he even love me?” That’s a question she’s never let herself ask before, too afraid of the answer. “He couldn’t imagine the rest of his life being like that. Being with me. He didn’t want me. And I had no idea. Is that love?”

[whileurmine]

@icarianncarrionn

he hated the way everyone looked at him, just then. he really did. like he was a time bomb, like his son had just said the correct sequence of words to start the count down. but more than that, jack hated the feeling that broke its way through his chest at the words, the one that proved the looks right. "i, m, okay. i guess at least the fighting is done." it was all he managed really after icarus stormed off. stepping back with a nod to make his way to jason's kitchen. jack wasn't spiraling, really. as he looked through the kitchen cabinets until he'd found an empty glass and a bottle of whiskey, it might have looked like he was spiraling, but he wasn't. because spiraling would involve a series of terrible thoughts sending him down a rabbit hole, and that, that wasn't what was happening. jack wasn't thinking about anything just then, he was in fact, trying to keep things that way. his mind empty, no single corner of it safe. he poured himself a shot, drank it all down in one go. then proceed with steps one and two again, and once more. stopping on the third time with the glass half empty and his breathing uneven. "it's fine." but jack didn't look up from his own distorted ambered reflection to see if it was daevi, james or iris by the door. he couldn't, really. he didn't think he had the heart to face any of them right then. "i'm fine, really, it's fine."

[whileurmine]

@icarianncarrionn

"i wrote— look, listen to this," he played a few chords on the guitar, the tune low and scratchy and all too melancholic, begging in every way that he couldn't. "then, then," jack changed the chords, just a little faster, a little needier. his eyes closed as he allowed himself a moment "there's no plan, there's no race to be run. the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun, there's no plan—" he laughed softly, interrupting himself. eyes opening slowly like he was coming out of a dream to meet her gaze. "that's all i go so far."

[adsagsona]

🔥 .

mcflymemes:

send me a 🔥 and i’ll tell you one thing my muse finds attractive about yours

"Only one? Alright, then I'll go with that beautiful long hair which is usually hidden but not in my cell."

@icarianncarrionn

[whileurmine]

He smiled warmly. Affection once again flooding his senses. Yes, that's what it had been before. Affection. "Ah, another reason for the adoption is what I'm hearing." Sebastian laughed. Pressing a quick stolen kiss to her temple. "I can do with a little more bohemian in my life." Before pulling away, like distance was the best course of action before he forgot who was also in that very room. "Something with a sunroom and studio. Yes, those are two different rooms actually." Walking towards Isa so he could once again hook himself to the present before his heart got away from him. "What do you say, princess?" Seb asked his daughter, pulling a chair from the dining table so he could sit somewhere next to her. "New house, what do you think we should have? A tree house or one of those indoor climbing walls?" — Isa sat there thinking carefully for a second, "Tree house." was what she landed on. "A castle tree house, with a tower." — Seb nodded with a laugh. "Alright, I'll have to find a place with a castle tree house and a tower."

Tisha hums softly, leaning into the touch. “You know, they didn’t seem that upset when I updated them. There was lots of as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.” Ajay had almost seemed smug about it, like he’d knocked Seb into next week and right back into her life at the same time. “That one will be doing a lot of heavy lifting for you, they’ll be obsessed.” She adds in a whisper, nodding in Isabella’s direction. “But they’ll come around either way. And even if they don’t…” Tisha shrugs. She’s always been the problem child, and they’ve put up with a lot worse from her. “I think I’d like that. The house hunting. Not sure you should trust my taste, though. Whole thing might wind up looking a little bohemian.”

[whileurmine]

"Do what?" Santi asked with a chuckle, because really he had no idea what she was talking about. Pulling another stool he had put there for this exact reason— Just so he could sit behind her, and rest his chin to her shoulder, arms wrapping around her waist. The comfort of her presence so overwhelming sometimes it was enough to make his unsteady heart take a second to relax before its next beat. "Plans can be canceled. I do it all the time, it's actually, don't know if you know this, my favorite thing to do, really." He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her neck. Bumping his leg up and down against the floor, aimlessly. "You know what I think? Besides, fuck, you look great. I think that all the time." Santi chuckled. "But I think— I think plans are overrated. I think, I think things work best for me when I'm planning no more than a week ahead. Every time I try, you know, every time I think forward, it's—" He pulled back just enough to motion a plane crashing and burning with his hands. "Pfff. Boom. Aaaa." A laugh, a shake of his head. "That's what I think. But you—" He caught her gaze on the mirror. "You like plans. Right? That's why I made up plans. For you. If you don't like these plans we can have other plans. Netflix plans or pool plans or world domination plans, I don't know, I never thought about it, but it might be your thing." Santi chuckled, poking her ribs.

Daevi looks up from the mirror - he doesn't have a proper vanity, but she's pulled a bar stool from somewhere else in the house into the ridiculously big bathroom so she can sit down while she wipes off her makeup. "You don't have to do that." Which is as good as saying no, she doesn't like nightclubs, because she doesn't. At least, not without warning, when her slippers were just within reach. "You planned a whole thing." She takes a glass from him and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning back to the mirror, frowning at a blemish that she's almost sure wasn't there that morning. "We'll go, hang out, dance, have some fun, go to our special spot-" The McDonalds on Vine, she means. "Make it a whole night."

[whileurmine]

"Flo." Her name on his lips was a plea "You know that's not what I mean. I just mean that— You know, we were having fun, we were getting drunk, we weren't, like, about to meet each other's family or something. Listen—" He reached out to try and hold her hand. "Just, just hear me out, okay? I really do like you."

She almost laughs, but it turns into a contemptuous huff of air before it leaves her throat. "No, see, you were right the first time. We were having fun. I'm not having fun right now - because you decided that the best way to handle hurting me was to double down and hurt me worse by saying none of it meant shit anyways."

[whileurmine]

He laughed, "Oh, is it? And here I was thinkin' you liked me, but it's the three feet bastard that you are here for, huh? Good to know." Jason shook his head, poking at her ribs. His smile too large to seem like it belonged to him, split in equal parts warmth and amusement. "You're just scared, Geetha. That's all. Everyone else is too. Most of the time. There ain't nothing wrong with it. You just gotta—" He took a deep breath instead of finishing his thought. "Just sit in the present. Feel the wind on your skin. Ain't nothin' gonna hurt you here. Ain't nothing gonna hurt you nowhere. You're safe to just be you."

“That’s different.” The answer is embarrassing, almost petulant, especially because she doesn’t know why it’s different, she just knows that it is. “Kids are easy. I work with them every day.” That's definitely different, but she can't think of any other defense. Geetha tucks one hand under her head, eyes not quite managing to reach his face. "I just... always feel like I'm at a distance. Like it takes me longer to know what to say, or... what I should sound like, or what to do."

[adsagsona]

Gann frowned at Tisha's words. In his eyes they were friends but maybe he'd had it all wrong. "You're not a loser." He answered since that was the only thing he could think of to reply on such short notice. "Then ehm... just tell me what's on your mind. Don't hold your tongue, just get it out there."

@adsagsona liked for a spotify wrapped starter and got: casual - chappell roan

"My friends call me a loser 'cause I'm still hanging around." Tisha snorts, flicking some ash off of the end of her cigarette. "And I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space. I try to be the chill girl but... honestly, I'm not."

[radicalrascals]

"You had green hair???" Tell me more, tell me more. Nick's eyes lit up with excitement, a stupid grin carved into his face, that kind that only had a chance to shine because his own brother wasn't around to call him 'Cenoura' for trying to bleach the living daylights out of his own hair and ending up with a slightly odd orangey-yellow instead. That, and his locks had died a martyr's death in the process as well. He never went for a second try. Sorry, Billy Idol, you've been led down. Even though you had served as such an inspiration for the look that never was.

"Wait--," the conversation moved at such a breakneck speed in the opposite direction, that Nick was still smiling despite being utterly horrified. "Porra...! Thirty seconds? When did that happen?" He paused. "How? How did it happen?" It might as well have happened right then and there, by the tone in Nick's voice, suddenly all worried.

@icarian-carrion | @icarianncarrionn

Before Hari can say anything, Dinesh chilmes in. “Oh! Hari’s good at that. Hari, have you told him about your nail polish phase?” Hari rolls his eyes and drapes an arm around Nick’s shoulders, doing his best to ignore Dinesh’s grin and Aiden hiding his strangled laughter behind his coffee cup. “I didn’t mention it, no.” “What about the green hair phase? You know, he started with blue, but he couldn’t get it to actually look blue, so he just-”

Hari loudly clears his throat to cut him off. “Nick, this is Aiden, and that is my little brother Dino, who is almost never at my gym, because he does crossfit-”

“Yeah, but I came in today. It’s serendipity.” Dinesh grins.

“It’s bad for your joints.” Hari hums, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, and a thirty second knockout is great for you.”

Hari flinches, and looks apologetically at Nick. “That was one time.”

[radicalrascals]

Nessa looks at the anti-vampire supplies with a raised eyebrow, hand reaching out but too hesitant to touch, as if making contact had grave consequences. Like vicious contact poison. Or worse, someone popping out from the backseat yelling 'It's just a prank, bro!' and all of her little adventure would end before it even started. "So, you're telling me my childhood church club knick-knacks weren't worthless?! Fucking Hell!" She groaned. Damn! She probably had a rosary somewhere. A dainty cross necklace too. Little pictures of saints and angels she liked to call Church Trading Cards. And a Bible™ of course. "Gotcha. Pepper spray for vampires and uh... what do I do with the rosary, Buffy? Pray uma Ave-Maria?"

@icarian-carrion | @icarianncarrionn

Tisha groans. “Okay, first of all, good one.” The pun has to be acknowledged, even if she’s trying desperately to come up with an argument against the plan. The problem is that she’s not coming up with anything. The bigger problem is that she can't tell if that's because the plan is good, or because despite her shifted priorities, she's still too crazy to see the flaws in it. “I am seeing the logic here. Look, thralls are tricky territory. Some are more valued than others, which means fucking with them can cause problems. So."

Tisha leans over to pop open the glove compartment. "Travel perfume atomizer has holy water in it. Not a lot, so you've gotta make it count. If there's one you've got to deal with, you spray them right in the face. Pick one of the rosaries too, keep it, they were like ten bucks at the Catholic supply store. If we're lucky, he just fucks off after they finish and it's just like dealing with a regular scumbag. If we're not lucky..."

[radicalrascals]

But Rafael wouldn't walk away, instead, he cupped her face in his hands, thumbs grazing her jawline like it was some fragile thing he had no business holding, and tipped her chin up slightly. "You should know by now that I'm an idiot," he smirked, his voice steady but laced with a wry edge he couldn't quite shake. "I always run towards danger. Especially when you're involved."

His eyes locked on hers, dark and full of that rebellious heat Tisha brought out in him. Then, with a crooked smile that was both a challenge and a promise, he leaned in and kissed her. Not a kiss meant to fix things, not a kiss to chase away the doubts. Just raw and pure and messy and unapologetic, like their love. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his voice softening as he added, "You gotta get real creative if you want to scare me away, furacão."

@icarianncarrionn

Tisha drapes her arms around his shoulders, thumb rubbing tiny circles against the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this shit.” She mumbles. “It probably won’t be the last time. ‘m really sorry for that too.” The only way for it to be the last time would be if she somehow had the strength to pull away, to climb out of his lap and kiss him goodbye and leave before she gets him killed along with her. She doesn’t.

If she had that strength, she would have done it already. But she’s never been good at denying herself what she wants, and she’s never wanted anything as much as this. “I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much. You know that, right? I wouldn’t be upset. I would understand.” It feels like a betrayal to even say it out loud.

[whileurmine]

Charlie frowned, head tilted to the side slightly, "He's a teacher?" He felt like his brain was foggy suddenly. Like he'd gotten high between one sentence and another. His ability to process everything that was thrown at him compromised in a way that he couldn't easily explain. "His parents are helping too?" Charlie didn't know what to do with that feeling. It sat at the bottom of his stomach willing him to allow misery to spread. He was stuck on that now, on that thought, Tony and Leo in one side of the country, Tisha and Matt in the other, his daughter not knowing who he was, while he ran around aimless. A profound and unshakable sense of loneliness suddenly tying him to the place where he stood. "I'll trade you." The whiskey offered out to her so he could get the phone from her hand. He figured it should spark joy, somewhere inside of him. All of those pictures. All the smiles. All the tiny little moments captured. "God, she was tiny." It only really made the black hole inside his chest expand. "Yeah, okay, I'll..." Charlie gave up staying upright, his body too heavy for the movement. Her phone sat back down on the table alongside the drinks, as he moved back to the armchair nearby and slumped down. "You might have to postpone the whole meeting thing, I might have to spend some time in a mental hospital or something." He ran a hand through his forehead. His poor attempt at joke failing miserably when he wasn't sure just how serious he was there. He pulled his own phone from his pocket, searched through his contacts. Tony's number the only one he still had saved. Charlie had to try calling. An apathetic voice informing him this number was no longer active. His life felt like a series of terrible events that were only made worse the more he tried to reframe them. He texted his manager too, Tisha tried talking to me and you didn't let her? and She was pregnant you didn't think to tell me about that? and I got a sixteen-year-old kid, Jones. He finally turned to her with a shake of his head, "What did you think I was gonna do? Tell you to fuck off and leave? How bad a guy am I in your memories?"

“I mean… I ran into Matt.” Tisha says, “I live in the same borough he teaches in. He’s a teacher now,” Does he know that? Charlie has been such a contentious topic, largely off limits outside of their daughter, that she has no idea what he might know or not know. It leaves her at a bit of a loss for what to tell him: well I left my entire family behind to pursue my career and had no support system here, but somehow in a city of eight million people I managed to run into your former best friend and he’s been acting as a surrogate father to the daughter you didn’t even know existed ever since. Don’t worry, it’s purely platonic except for the couple times we hooked up, and no, I don’t know why you’d worry since we haven’t even been together in sixteen years and even when we were- No. None of that, definitely none of that. “He’s actually Chaarvi’s teacher, but we- I put her in his school on purpose, we ran into each other before she was in high school. He’s been a big help, he and his parents both have been really supportive. My family is still all back in Canada, so…” she clears her throat awkwardly. “But, uh, no. Definitely not a prank. I’ve got the stretch marks and the grey hair to prove it. I mean, you can’t see them, I’ve got both of them covered up, but they’re definitely there. Oh shit, hold on-” This isn’t really proof that he needs, she knows he wasn’t really asking, but she pulls up her mother’s facebook page. Tisha finds the private album, the one with her maternity photos, and the pictures from the hospital, all the way up to Chaarvi’s first birthday in the living room of the house on Sweetbirch, and passes her phone to him. “I can send you copies of these too, if you want. I’m not as good at taking pictures as I should be, but we lived with my mom and dad for a long time, and they never stopped taking pictures, so… you gonna share? I think I could use a drink too.”