#lingeringscars: layla.

[terrifyingstories]

@lingeringscars: that move? putting up walls? that used to be my move.

even if bonnie wanted to, she wouldn't know how, she doesn't say. she's committed pages after pages of spells and bennett history to heart, and in none of them were instructions for removing the invisible armor she wears like a second skin. they all just made her harder, each page confirming what some part of her had known the very moment she'd lifted the cover.

it never ends well for people like me.

and so she got harder and leaner and tougher. she had to. you're one of the good ones, bonnie, lucy had told her, in the middle of it is exactly where you need to be. and just like that, bonnie knew. she didn't have a choice. she never did.

but she won't tell layla any of that. instead she gives her a warm smile filled with pride, "used to, huh? as in, not anymore."

[itchose]

@lingeringscars [ from ]  ━ ❝ how about i just sit here with you until you're ready. is that okay?   ❞

[doomdays]

@lingeringscars said, "you believed in me when i didn't."

he smiles back softly, because that's one of the easiest things he's ever done. believing in her came simply, always had since they were kids, and he's only been more confident in it over the years, especially lately. ❝  i always have, ❞ he reminds her, bringing his hands to her shoulders and sliding them down her arms gently, before one moves to cup her cheek as he steps in closer to her. ❝  and i always will. you don't ever have to question that, baby, believing in you is the easiest thing i can do. ❞

[ladyintree]

[ ♡ ] taissa jolts awake suddenly, bumping the woman who had been resting peacefully in her arms in the process. hit with another nightmare, but she's still too unwilling to really talk about it, always brushing it off like it's nothing --- both to layla, and to herself, too determined to pretend she's fine. a nightmare is better than the alternative --- finding herself far from her bed, wondered off into the unknown, putting herself in some kind of danger. ever since coming back to civilization, she'd been lucky to no longer experience sleepwalking, convincing herself that that's the end. if that means dealing with a few nightmares every now and then, she'll take it. this is not that bad, she tells herself.

❝  shit, i'm sorry, ❞ she mumbles to @lingeringscars, hoping this isn't what finally scares her off entirely. they'd kept it comfortably casual so far, layla spending the night still a rarity, but she wasn't ready to lose any of it. she does her best to push aside any inevitable conversation, not even trying to offer an excuse, focusing instead on layla as she brings her hand up to lightly brush layla's hair out of her features. ❝  i didn't mean to wake you. ❞ a small smile forms, her eyes darting between layla's and her lips, a flirty expression painting her features as if that'll make them both forget. ❝  or maybe i'm not that sorry, ❞ she teases.

[terrifyingstories3]

@lingeringscars sent a hug for allison.

she hadn't painted her nails since coming back. watching the last of the red polish chip away had been a relief, and she hadn't thought to replace it. it seemed fitting, and she matched the bare nails well. shopping had been a necessity, but not one she'd necessarily enjoyed. she was a far cry from the girl who'd gone on endless shopping trips with lydia all those years ago, and as of late, she felt a bit lost surrounded by clothing racks. no matter where she went, she felt hollow, as if some key part of her had been ripped out. in the meantime, she's opted for plain, practical choices while she figures out the whole adjusting to being brought back to life thing, and hottest style trends of 2023, and where exactly allison, who is not eighteen anymore, finds herself into that.

and that's been a lonely, scary kind of thing. but when she looks down at the purple nail polish layla painted her nails with, and thinks of the gentleness in her eyes as she'd taken her hand, the ease with which she'd afforded her the kindness of not asking for an explanation, it feels both less lonely and less scary. she feels safe with her, and when layla asks if she can hug her, once again kind enough not to mention how quiet or how skittish or generally out of it she's been, it's an easy answer. with her arms around her, she feels comfortably rooted in her body, warm and full in a way she hasn't in quite awhile. "thanks," allison says, "you know.. you're really good at this."

[doomdays]

there isn't much that can truly comfort him right now, but the sound of his name coming from her does help loosen the tension in his shoulders slightly. a soft sigh falls from his lips as he starts to relax a little, his eyes meeting hers and a small smile tugging at his lips. it grows when she says his dad would be proud of him --- something that he used to beg for, resent him for never saying, yet now the times he's said it in the last few years ring through his mind. his father was proud of him, jordan made his father proud, and losing him doesn't mean he'll ever stop striving for that. his dad is still with him, still his biggest fan, and he's never going to forget that. he won't let himself.

❝ yeah, i--- i was thinking about that. trying to . . . you know, do something he'd be proud of. be something he'd be proud of. ❞ he clears his throat, trying to keep his eyes on her, because the moment he looks away, the tears welling in his eyes may fall ( but she's his safe place,  and looking at her reminds him he is going to be okay, no matter how hard that feels. ) ❝  that's all i want, you know? all i've ever wanted, to make him proud. ❞  she knows that all too well; his insecurities have always been on full display for her, more than anyone.

❝  in that church--- it wasn't right. none of it was. dad would've hated that. ❞ and he doesn't blame her mother for it. she's clearly grieving in such a specific way that neither he nor olivia know how to help her with, and he's trying to make up for that -- to counter her response so that in the future, when his mom is doing better, she won't look back and regret how they handled this. ❝  but this? this was right. he'd be--- he'd be bragging to his friends about having shawn stockman, right? ❞ he lets out a soft laugh, despite how empty it is. he is happy for it, it's just hard to let himself feel too much joy --- even though it is what his father would want. he knows that.

he notices the way her head tilts -- of course he does -- and he was gladly work to ease her worries, too, as much as he can in his current state. he knows how relieved he is to have her around, he can see the same in sister and mother, and he can take this moment to know that she's helped his father, too. because maybe his dad knew that jordan was going to be okay; maybe his dad understood he was in good hands. because billy baker loved love, and he'd be proud of jordan for what he's found with layla, too.

he felt so much joy when his father told him he approved, and there's nothing he wants more than to be able to share that with layla now: to tell her how happy he was when he knew that the girl he loves has his father's approval, that his father could see how happy layla made him. he can't reach that joy entirely, not when he can't stop thinking about the way his father might've teased layla for it, and how she'd give it right back to him, how he already longs to share these stories of layla with his dad. ❝  when we were playing catch. the last time we played catch. ❞ the clarification might not be necessary, but he's found that there are things he needs to say out loud, for his own process.  ❝  told me, 'tell layla i approve.' ❞ he starts to smile, something proud in it, both knowing that his father knew he was in good hands -- and the pleasure of getting to tell layla this now, so she can be sure, too.  ❝  yeah, he said something about how 'he's my father,' so of course he knew. ❞ that stings harder. two years ago, he wouldn't think his father could read him that well, but now-- they had finally made it there.

his hands squeeze hers, and again, he refocuses his eyes on hers. ❝  layla, my dad loved you. god, i mean, there are so many things i wish we could have talked about, so many things i'll never get to say to him, but-- i didn't know how badly i wanted to hear that from him. that he's happy for me, for us. ❞  his nose crinkles, an attempt to stop himself from tearing up. ❝  you told me that i've got my dad's memory. my dad, he dy–– he died, ❞ his throat catches, just slightly. ❝ --knowing i was the happiest i've ever been. ❞ and he's not happy right now. not even close, but that doesn't mean what he has with her has lost that spark or that he doesn't still get to feel that happiness here. ❝  that's his last memory of me, ❞ he says quietly, an acceptance. he's grateful for that. he just wishes his last memory of his father had been the same.  

a part of her is still in shock, still processing the mixed emotions that have arisen given the monumental loss they're all facing. she may not have been billy's third child, but billy always was a semi-father figure to her. she could understand him better now than when she was younger, after reconnecting with her own father and healing the wounds his absence had left, she's also seen liv mend the same wounds. billy returned to his family, brought spencer into the fold, and reminded her that she's always been welcome with the baker family.

they were her family. they have always been her family. right now she has to try and help them through it as best she can, but she's not pushing aside her own grief the way she would have last year. she knows that billy's accident is bringing up feelings about her mother, and she'll process them. she can't sit in them the way that she will have to eventually, but she knows that they are there, and for now, that is enough.

it has to be so she can help jordan with the worst loss he'll ever face. so that she can take in the look on liv's face every time she sees her, not the emptiness and loss etched on her features, and tidy up everything near her. so she can look at laura and pass her water or food that she was able to eat after her own loss and know that she'll never understand that specific loss.

her heart clenches around the word yet as she holds jordan to her, all too aware that she could have lost him that night as well.

she smiles softly at his words, even if she still has trouble accepting compliments. "jordan.." hands finding the back of his neck before rubbing down his shoulders. "look at what you accomplished tonight. the way you honored your dad and your family. he would be so proud of you." she knows what that would mean. "i'm proud of you." the manner in which he has been carrying himself is not how he would have reacted a year ago either. she's seen his growth. she just hopes she can be a safe place for him to feel everything.

she can tell that there's more on his mind, so she waits, squeezing his hands. her gut instinct is to argue that she has not done enough for him, for any of them, but she knows that won't bring either of them peace. she chooses to try to accept it, even if her head tilts down as the words soak over her. until his next words have her pulling back up. "when..." she swallows her shock, at billy knowing, at his approval. "when did this happen?"

[coleramse]

spotify wrapped request meme 💚: send me a number 1-101 + a fandom and i’ll make you an edit with lyrics from that song.

look at what i found, there's sound inside me but i am not that loud

[..]  when i lay down my head and the dark around me yells i'll celebrate the mornings like the light would never come

@lingeringscars​ sent: all american + thank you light by florist.

[bruiseeasily]

"you can't possibly be serious." for years, serena loved the sense of home that she got from spending winter breaks in beverly hills. it wasn't as much from the warmth in the air or the palm trees, but reuniting with a friend that meant more to her than she could ever possibly put into words. layla was everything good. she made serena want to be a better person, to try at the very least. she was a breath of fresh air compared to her group of friends back in new york city. sure, blair was her best friend and the two were thick as thieves. but layla keating was the sister she never had. "that's blackmail, has anyone ever told you?" yet, she laughs. "i didn't even know you had that in film! but you've got to admit i'd be a better marissa cooper than mischa." she says with a smirk, a hand flipping her hair back.

@lingeringscars liked for a starter

[mambosfive]

@lingeringscars ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"you're saying she left again? 'cause i haven't heard from nikki in –– like months. i thought she was off playing happy families."

[litearra]

❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜

arched brow, lips pursed at the statement. still, she is intrigued, not sure what kind of business @lingeringscars meant to get into at a bar. been bartending since before she turned twenty-one - thank god for her fake id.     ❝ if not for pleasure what can i get you for your business then? ❞     playfully wriggling her brows before gesturing to the bottles behind her.

[scribare-archive]

@lingeringscars : i have nowhere else to go.

sharing a dorm could become a little stuffy, a little too crowded sometimes, even if she absolutely adores her new roommate. spending the weekend at her fathers house however, it was a good change of phase. provided some privacy, and even if it was off campus : it wasn't too far away, her father being one of the teachers. didn't expect visitors here however, not for herself, maybe for her dad. but opening the front door, she comes face to face with layla. bright surprised smile upon features, soon morph into one more of concern as she takes her in : taking a step to the side and opening the door up wider so she can get through.     ❝   of course, come on inside.   ❞      voice is soft while eyes stick to her, brows furrow slighly. ❝   do you want to talk about it ?   ❞

[itchose]

[ @lingeringscars, 🌿 ] being here is another harsh look at the reality of what she’s actually missed in her time away —    she always knew that layla was going to make something of herself someday,  that she’d do it quickly,  but actually seeing it firsthand is surreal.  she’s happy for her,  grateful that she’s been able to get where she is today,  but she can’t ignore the jealousy she feels,  too,  because she feels so far behind.   it’s all she could think about for the longest time during their disappearance—  all these things that akilah was missing in her teen years,  like her first SATs,  her first date,  her first prom,  her first college acceptance letter,  her nephew’s first birthday,  her first chance to make something of herself once she left high school.   it’s a setback,  one that akilah fears she won’t be able to recover from,  too much still standing in her way that she’ll likely never see the other side of,  because everything they went through out there,  they can’t speak on it and likely won’t ever know how to cope with it,  either.  

but she keeps a smile on her face,  her fingertips sliding along the edge of the soundboard as she slowly nods her head.   ❝  this is incredible,  layla.   i can’t believe you did all this.  i mean,  i can,  ❞   she corrects herself,  finally looking back at her,  her expression full of hope despite the light in her eyes clearly dimmed from what layla might’ve been used to before.  ❝  i can believe you,  obviously.  it’s just—  it’s crazy, i guess.   how much has changed since  .   .   .   ❞     since she’s been gone,  but she doesn’t finish that sentence,  quickly moving past it instead.   ❝  can i hear something?  ❞

[doomdays]

🎵 / @lingeringscars [everything to everyone, renee r] everything she's done has been an attempt to keep her sister safe,  but she knows now that not all of her decisions were the right ones.  she could have been better -- she could have been there instead of leaving,  assuming that was the only solution,  to leave tara alone with a mother who clearly wasn't interested in putting her daughters' needs before her own.  too often, she wonders if that's what she did, too.  maybe leaving so suddenly was about herself, too -- and she'll live with that regret forever.  it only seemed to put tara in more danger in the end. 

❝  i'll kill myself trying.  i'm not scared of dying. ❞  it's something she learned to be okay with long ago,  that if she was going to keep her sister alive,  then that meant throwing herself at the danger before she ever got the chance.  she knows now that she can't keep her from danger forever -- not when it seems to be her sister fighting beside her in the end.   ❝  i know i have to give her more credit.  she's a lot more capable of taking care of herself than i ever expected.  it's just--- hard, you know?  that doesn't mean she should have to be.  ❞

[ladyintree]

@lingeringscars, "i’m just checking in on you."

she hasn't sleepwalked since before they were rescued, enough proof to her that it was never a real problem, written off only as her way of coping in the wilderness --- and now she's fine, nothing to worry about, no reason to keep questioning it. and yet so many nights still, she tries to stay awake, accustom to the fear of closing her eyes and drifting off to some other world in which she is not her and someone else is in the driver's seat. she's startled when she hears layla's voice, eyes darting back to her as they soften, her head shaking. ❝  you don't have to, ❞ she mumbles, her hand moving over to slide up and down her arm, finding comfort in the contact and the reminder that she isn't alone. ❝  just can't sleep, i guess. but i'm okay, ❞ she assures, no matter how unconvincing that is. ❝  shit, did i wake you? ❞

[bruiseeasily]

you owe me! / layla & courtney

prompts for confrontations & arguments courtney & layla | @lingeringscars

"i don't owe you anything!" courtney has never raised her voice towards layla. ever since coming to beverly hills, she has tried her hardest to be the best person she can be. fitting in with the rich kids is easier than she imagined, as long as they don't know the real source of her family's wealth. but secrets run deep in this side of the city. and the difronzos are no different.

but layla knows her. or that's what courtney keeps telling her. she has been drawn to the keating girl since the beginning but it was at the rehab center that they became the closest. however, court's road to recovery has been a bit more difficult than she'd like to share.

"what, you think just because you've seen me at my worst i have to tell you all my deep dark secrets?" she laughs humorless. truth is layla doesn't know the worst of her life, not even close. "you don't wanna help me, fine. but don't try to stop me. it's best if you stay in your lane anyway."

[mambosfive]

@lingeringscars ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

“i guess i just need to know for certain.” all of her life, monica had been told stories about who her father was. some had been tall tales, little white lies told by her mother to just bury the subject; hugh grant, bill clinton, even santa claus at one time or another. but despite her mothers efforts, they hadn’t quite managed to stop the ache that she felt about not know exactly where she came from.

it wasn’t to say that her mother had been bad. the opposite, actually. she’d been enough of a mother to take the place of a father, even more so. this quest of hers wasn’t because she needed something from him, but more needed something for herself.

closure, she supposed.

so now she was here, explaining her plans to layla as if it was the most simple thing in the world. as if she might just be able to walk right up to him, and say “hi dad! nice to meet you!” but life didn’t work like that, and even her optimism had it’s limits. “am I deluded for thinking that i can do this? that i can track this guy down that my mom has heard nothing from in over twenty years?”