#interactions‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ🔪ㅤ.

[andtheylive]

@w3atherwitch, continued from here there's no way, when you push the world away, to tell people that it's nothing personal. it's just the way it is, the way it has to be. when you've been burned this many times, you learn to stay the fuck out of the kitchen. maybe not the healthiest option — how can anyone eat that way? — but it's sam's way.

she eyes the other reluctantly before granting joss a small nod.

"for now, we have a deal," a beat, before sam continues, "but if you cross us? all bets are off."

[andtheylive]

@legacysouls ❤️'d "do you have any beer in the fridge?" it's maybe a peculiar greeting after getting out of the hospital, but fuck — she needs one. for tara's sake, it'll just be the one, but sam's mind weighs heavy. "... turns out these freaks took a page out of debbie loomis's book." her own grandmother. family history comes back to bite sam in the ass yet again.

"i bet you've already heard the news though." hard not to have; it's all any station is talking about. sam's taken a break from social media after the attacks against her character, but she's sure it's taking up everyone's feeds as well.

[andtheylive]

@morb1dg1rl ❤️’d “i don’t know if i’m in much of a party mood, scout.” stu’s gone all out on this little fiesta, as he so called it. sidney definitely wouldn’t call it little; most of the kids in their class are here, maybe that’s the safety in numbers that principal himbry was talking about. regardless, she’s ready to hit the road whenever tatum reappears.

“have you seen tatum? i want to tell her i’m ready to go.” she’s slightly annoyed that her best friend has ditched her, considering whose idea it was to come.

[andtheylive]

@legacysouls❤️’d "she likes you." they've just come back to casey's house after hanging out with stu's friends. they are, very noticeably, stu's friends; casey is trying to find a place within this tight-knit group, but their dynamics are obviously set. ... maybe not all of them.

"i'm serious! tatum was totally making eyes at you tonight, babe." it takes one to know one; casey's guilty of checking out attached boys at their school ... maybe she's even done so while in a relationship herself, but it's never anything serious! it's not like she's friends with any of those boys. tatum and stu are a part of the same friend circle, which makes this definitely different.

[andtheylive]

she tries to scrub herself clean of the blood and death and pain. she tries and she tries, and just as soon as sidney feels clean again ... it's like the prom scene in carrie, when they douse her in pig's blood. over and over again. her bones are tired and by god, sidney wants somewhere to rest them ... but where?

where can she rest without having to look over her shoulder?

"— ... i'm scared that the rest of my life will be like this." sidney admits with a dry swallow. "i want you to be right. i want to believe i can fight back against all of this, but — the last time i did that, it followed me. like a curse i can't break."

god, she sounds crazy. fitting, as sidney feels like she's losing her mind. in all her effort to dig up the bad seed, it already sprouted.

"i don't know if anything can help me."

"mm." salem waits for a moment. lets the words linger in the cold, autumn night air. it would be nice to feel it fully again. like when she was flesh and blood proper. not some profane homunculus of magic, faith and sheer dumb luck. but that was ponderings for another time.

"it's shit luck, sid- i'll give you that. i won't downplay the bullshittery. not at all. i'm just thinking-" there's another pause. another hum.

"you got two options with it. you live on, keep doing what your doing and letting it all burrow its way into your bones. or you fight off the leaches a bit and push back against the leachy tide of bloodsuckers. again, i ain't downplaying your shit. plus feel free to tell me to kick rocks outta here, but what's the value in sulking in the blood?

"does it help you? i mean that honestly."

[andtheylive]

@bullsh1tterz ❤️'d "please," an unwavering hand raises to block her face from prospective camera view. "i'm not giving any interviews, i don't want to talk to any reporters." sidney's had enough cameras shoved in her face to last her a lifetime. she prepares herself to brush past the other.

[andtheylive]

@badnote❤️’d with her hands tucked under her chin, casey slides across from the other. she coyly smiles, "i have a secret, but you have to promise not to tell stu! cross your heart, because i'll never forgive you if you tell him."

[andtheylive]

@blccdingout ❤️’d “… how long do you think i can avoid billy?” so their latest conversation went disastrously. she’s already feeling guilt and confusion for the night before — he was there, the phone fell out of his pocket — and now it’s twenty times worse after billy made a jerk out of himself. how can he bring it back to their sex life after someone tried to kill her? and worse yet, how on earth can he even think of comparing the situations with their mothers?

he’s been with her for two years; besides tatum, billy has been sidney’s number one champion … is this how he’s felt the entire time, that maybe she should just get over it? — … maybe, under all of her anger and hurt, he’s got a point that she just doesn’t want to admit.

“i don’t know what i’m going to do, tatum.”

[andtheylive]

she'd love a cigarette right now — sam would love anything to distract her from this current moment. a cigarette between her fingers, a beer in her hand, her bottle of pills in case this is some fucked up hallucination (god, please. please don't let this be real please fucking god.) the only thing that occupies her hands, however, is the polariod she takes from stu. sam grips it tight between her fingers, slightly bending it in her quivering grip.

"oh my god." it comes out akin to the sound you make when you're punched in the stomach. sam thinks she'd recover from that easier. there he is ... that's her father. not bloody, with a gaping bullet hole between those familiar dark eyes, but still forever a teenage boy.

and that's definitely stu ... she's never thought of him much. when the woodsboro murders come up, billy loomis's name is the first to be thrown around ... stu's is just an afterthought. maybe it is because one died in a blaze of bullets and blood and rage, and the other was quietly confined in prison for the last twenty-five years.

funny enough, it's that anger stu speaks of that rips sam from her contemplative woe; her head snaps up, baring those fiery eyes, as she hands the photograph back to stu without another glance.

"i'm nothing like him." sam defies. everything from the jaw down is tense; it's her fight or flight, but not in reaction to stu. well, it is, but it's toward mostly herself.

"i'm not a killer." but you are, sammy. and you can't deny, though it was an act of self-defense, stabbing richie and his shitty ass family didn't feel as wrong as it should have.

"Am I laughing?" Bingo, bango, she's a firecracker like her father. Stu almost grins, resisting the urge to flash teeth in a Cheshire's smile. It's bittersweet, really. It's a certain aura that settles and shrouds the Loomis gene, he thinks. It's heavy and it permeates it's surroundings. It's thick and Stu breathes it in with a deep inhale through the nose; the exhale comes in a heavy sigh. Listen closely and you might be able to hear the heartache.

Stu never knows what to do with his hands anymore. He used to be the coolest guy around. He threw parties, he had girlfriends, he smoked dope with all the cool guys in school, he murdered a bunch of people, split them groin to sternum, almost died, lost the love of his life, went to prison- and now he's an adult. An adult that doesn't know what to do with his hands. He flails one around aimlessly, as though he could potentially pluck words out of the air and form some sort of coherent sentence. "Uh, I know a guy."

Taking a few very short steps closer, he reaches for his wallet after a silent beat; it's worn leather and falling apart.

When you're sent to prison, you have to leave all of your belongings with the nerd behind the desk at intake. You drop all the items in your pockets, and the nerd bags it up, fixes his stupid glasses, and you resist punching him in the face as he tosses the baggy of your things into a bin. When you're released, you get all your stuff back. Stu had made sure to ask over the years if his stuff was still available upon parole; he arrived with nothing much, and left with even less.

The cigarettes come next - not the same pack from intake, that'd just be silly. Not even the same brand. He swapped them when he left; Billy's brand. It smells like him each time he lights up. (It's all he has left). Bright blues focus on Sam intensely as he sparks his cigarette, pocketing the pack and lighter and pulling in a deep drag. That's not entirely true now, is it? He has Sam now, too. His eyes flick back down.

Flipping open his wallet and flinching a little at the worn edges threatening to disintegrate on cue, he thumbs through a few things. Blockbuster card. Some gift cards. A couple of receipts. Baseball cards, because he was a kid once too. A polaroid. Even the feel of it as he slides it from it's slot makes Stu smile, a breath of amusement escaping him as well in a puff of smoke, cigarette pinched between his teeth in his concentration.

"M'not here to start any shit." He bites out around the filter, brows lifting and eyes flicking over every single morsel of the photo before he flips it around to present it to her. Two boys lounging on the sofa, arms around each other, Stu and Billy in their prime. August, 1996.

"Just wanted to stop by, see how you were." A lazy roll of the shoulder, his free hand pulls the cigarette from his mouth so he can exhale properly. "See if he- see if it was true." And a genuine laugh escapes him at that, deep-chested and airy. "You're definitely his kid. You got his searing angry glare."

[andtheylive]

@selfhaunting ❤️'d "i don't know how i feel about los angeles." it's different from modesto ... and it's not even comparable to woodsboro. no one knows anybody in this city, and it's easy to slip into the crowd. that, sam likes. nevertheless, she still finds herself consistently looking over her shoulder; every police siren churns sam's stomach, and their door bares three deadbolts to keep out anyone not welcome.

"finding a roommate is harder than i thought it'd be." strike that, finding one that she's willing to live with is the trouble. she's not letting just anyone sleep under the same roof as her and tara.

sam mindlessly pulls at a string on her sleeve. it'd be preferable if they could have a place to themselves, but with sam's paycheck that's entirely out of the question. just another way sam feels she's let her baby sister down.

[andtheylive]

“now we can do this easy, or we can do this rough.” - elizabeth for sam!!

this hotel is a fucking maze. there is no rhyme nor reason to the bends and turns of the hallways; the path sam swore was the way to the elevators is a gateway to fucking nowhere. you'd think she'd bump into other guests, or even an employee or two (she knows that somebody works here, there was a maid cart by her room). nothing. a total ghost town.

it's starting to piss sam off. especially as she tries (unsuccessfully) to navigate her way back to her room. after a while, she's unsure if it's her imagination, but ... sam fucking swears she senses another person. turn after turn, sam glances over her shoulder and expects to find someone trailing behind her. paranoia creeps in, and sam pulls the taser out of her pocket.

finally, sam makes it back to semi-familiar territory. every corridor looks the same, but this is the path back to her room. the maid cart is missing, and in its place stands the most beautiful woman sam has ever seen in her life. evidently, her suspicions of being followed are not unfounded. her feet stand firm in their place, and her thumb hovers above the taser's button.

"yeah, and i'll make it rough." she retorts, holding out her weapon. "so tell me why the fuck you've been following me."

[andtheylive]

❛ you can’t help the dead. they’re beyond help. ❜ [billy to sid]

they say that grief doesn’t really go away, you just learn to live with it. sidney is waiting for that to kick in — when is she going to live again? really live. everything hurts, everything reminds her of her mother. the decor of the prescott home that was picked out by her, photos of a happy family of three, the empty space at their dinner table. all of it is a wave from a woman that is no longer there to greet sidney when she walks through the front door.

“i know.” her throat is tight and her voice hoarse. she fights back her tears; sidney has cried on billy’s shoulder so many times … and in her bedroom, in the school bathrooms stalls, on the bus. sidney has shed so many tears that she can’t believe there are any more bottled up inside her.

her eyes downcast, sidney swallows thickly and takes a deep breath. after a few moments pause, she searches for her words again.

“… i just keep thinking about all the things i could have done differently. if i had — been home sooner. maybe — …” sidney has been down this road before, and the destination is never where she wants to be. when she looks at billy again, her eyes are glassy.

“i just miss her so much.”

[andtheylive]

@wildhecrt ❤️’d “it’s always been just him and me together.”

[andtheylive]

@5aith ❤️'d "faces look ugly when you're alone."

[andtheylive]

@thatdumblamb ❤️'d "it's not what i asked for. sometimes life just slips in through a back door and carves out a person."

[andtheylive]

a gruesome monster has never been tatum’s go-to halloween costume. as a child, she was the princess, the black cat, the witch. the boys are going all out with their description of blood, guts, and gore — bleh. if tatum is donning a costume, she’s going to look good in it.

glancing over the store’s selection, however, the line between flattering and skeezy cheap is razor thin. a pencil can be sexy on halloween, but that’s not quite what tatum is looking for, so she’s continuing to peruse the women’s costumes until she hits that sweet spot —

— or until someone stupidly (and very immaturely, b.t.w.) startles tatum. she gasps sharply and jolts back; her outstretched hand halts her from falling back against the parallel aisle. instinctively, tatum kicks to free herself.

once tatum catches her breath and it dawns on her who her assailant is , she doesn’t regret this decision either.

“you are such an asshole, kai.” tatum chides as she brushes wild strands of hair out of her face.

“laugh it up, dick.”

@andtheylive asked:👹 - go to a Halloween store w/ tatum!!

Kai's fingers graze over the array of latex masks ranging from cartoon characters to twisted and utterly HORRIFYING monsters. It had been Randy's idea to make a shopping trip for them all to find costumes for Halloween. They outgrew trick-or-treating about two years ago (although, he's pretty sure Stu would still do it in a heartbeat if someone had suggested it.) but they were still planning on watching scary movies and going to local events like the "haunted" house. The group was SCATTERED about the store, combing through their options and Kai took the opportunity while they were all distracted to grab a creepy clown mask hanging from the wall, tugging it over his head and trying his best not to make a sound of disgust at the strong scent of the inside.

He CROUCHES down as he navigates through the aisles until he spots a familiar pair of shoes and grins to himself. Slowly, Kai reaches out and grabs onto Tatum's leg, letting out a loud snarl, " Gotcha! "