#lingeringscars: spencer.

[doomdays]

#𝟼𝟹 🎁 𝙱𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙸𝚃 by 𝚇𝙰𝙽𝙰 ↬ ft. @lingeringscars

❝  she looks pretty on her poster.  ❞   her eyes stare at the power blankly,   not actually allowing herself to really look at herself,   because most of the time,  she just feels empty,  too aware of everything that’s missing and everything she’s done wrong to put herself in that situation in the first place.    the person in that photo isn’t who she is —  it’s just what she’s supposed to be,  who she was for maybe a brief moment in her life before she lost herself in it.   it doesn’t feel like her,  though;   it just feels like another performance,  one that’s getting harder and harder to nail.    

she looks down,  away from the poster but not to the other just yet.   ❝  i’ve been lonely for a while now.  ❞    she says it so quietly that if she doesn’t hear her,  then maybe skye doesn’t have to figure out what to do with that.   she’s said the same thing a thousand times to her own mother,   never using those exact words,   hoping maybe she’ll actually hear what she’s really trying to say —  but she never does,   only continuing to push her forward,  until skye’s at her breaking point yet again.  ❝  can you tell? in that picture of ... me. —can you? ❞

[terrifyingstories]

@lingeringscars, x.

she was in fourth grade when peter had gotten her diagnosed with asthma. the school had called him when in the middle of a test she had suddenly began to hyperventilate, rocking back and forth and holding her chest as she'd gasped for air that wouldn't come. when she'd gone to the nurse's office, the woman there had been so calm and reassuring that a part of melissa hadn't wanted to leave. in fact, all of the office staff had doted on her, reassuring her again and again that she was okay and that she could retake the test whenever she was ready and even hold onto mr. beary bear, the classroom mascot, while she did it if that would make her feel calmer.

all of that kindness had been a drug to melissa, and it wasn't until he'd forced her to take that same test that night, entirely absent of all of their warmth and with no teddy bear to comfort her that she'd realized the look in his eyes when he'd insisted to the staff his daughter didn't have panic attacks was shame. he didn't yell or scream, but the weight of that was more than enough. the way he quietly stood there watching over her, needing no words to say that she wouldn't leave that chair until she finished, no matter how much she 'fussed.' the next day he'd taken her to a doctor instead of school, and she'd left with a prescription for an inhaler she was meant to give to the nurse, even though she'd never use it.

she did end up in the nurse's office a couple more times that year, though, thankfully without anymore calls home. once she muddles through the surprise elicited by spencer's outburst, that friendly nurse's face is all she thinks of as she reaches out for her sister's hand. "come on. dad's going to be home soon. let's go out to the barn," melissa gently urges, letting her thumb dig into spencer's palm just a little, not to hurt but to ground her in the present.

[ladyintree]

@lingeringscars said, "i know what it’s like. the numbness, the paranoia. sometimes i look at the world around me and it’s like all the light has just gone out of it."

some days, she feels the same way, horrible reminders around every corner that there's such a huge gap in the life she's living. she's done her best to get it back on track, promptly moving on her path as once scheduled, never missing a beat despite how insistent her parents were on trying to get her to take a breath. if she let herself stall for even a moment, she might just completely falter, and how could she ever move past it? if she pretends her life is normal again, then she can make it true. she can bury every memory of the horrible acts committed in the name of survival ( and even the ones that weren't about survival, but about the freedom they were granted and how they took advantage. )

but she feels that, too. numbness, paranoia, the loss of hope. that's what she's always running from. everyone who's ever heard her name has already decided they know exactly who she is and what she's done, and it always has her on edge, but if she lets people see that, then they win. she's perfected these masks she must weird in defense, and she knows that spencer isn't so bad at that, either.

she wouldn't be willing to admit it to anyone else, especially not a stranger, and not the people closest to her either. but spencer is different -- they are more alike than they could have ever imagined they'd be, and they've both been through something they can't possibly explain to anyone else. in these circumstances, she's willing to open up slightly more than she would anyone else -- only because, if anyone who wasn't there might be able to understand, it's her.

❝  how do you turn it around? ❞ she asks, because surely, she doesn't let herself dwell on it, right? ❝  you can't just live like that, never moving on, always assuming that someone's out to get you. ❞ words that are more for herself than they are for spencer, but it's her own backhanded way of looking for advice, giving her the opportunity to open up in the process.

[bruiseeasily]

🎁 / harvey & spencer ignoring that troian is in suits

spotify wrapped: boulevard of broken dreams by green day harvey specter & spencer hastings | @lingeringscars

"read between the lines," harvey starts from the comfort of his chair, in his office, as spencer stares him down. "what's fucked up and everything's alright."

[mambosfive]

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

"hey, come here! i've got a spare seat at my table, you can make me look less lonely."

[untwined-b]

had  a  bigger  apartment  than  most  college  students,  perks  of  being  a  trust  fund  baby.  granted  she  was  richer  than  the  average  trust  fund  baby.  the  only  reason  she  could  remain  somewhat  anonymous  was  that  their  wealth  came  from  the  british  side  of  her  family,  and  not  the  american.  

@lingeringscars     ⸺     spencer hastings : ❛  do  you  mind  if  i  sleep  here  tonight?  ❜

             ❝  sure  you  can  stay  the  night,  any  particular  guest  room  you’d  like  to  use?  ❞          there  are  four  of  them.  housing  friends  from  university  whenever  they  went  out  in  the  city  rather  than  attend  parties  at  greek  row.  making  sure  her  loved  ones  had  a  safe  place  to  sleep  whenever  they  needed  it.

[ricochetingtears]

spotify wrapped: colourway by novo amor ↪ mark & spencer / @lingeringscars​

❛ i don't know where we went, my dear don't unfold me. i'm coloured in again, in you. ❜

[terrifyingstories3]

caleb is sensitive to uninvited physical contact or intrusion into his space. he doesn’t like being touched by strangers, and is picky about who he lets close. he hasn’t always had control over that in his life, and it’s painful to re-experience that sense of helplessness.

even the plan to expose melissa with the planned mona-caleb kiss causes a level of pain and discomfort most wouldn’t understand; albeit begrudgingly, he’s committed to this with his eyes open, no one’s forcing him, all affected parties have consented, but forcing that interaction is physically painful. he feels sick, and leaves immediately afterward, going as far as to opt for walking home until emily insists a ride.

later detective tanner makes a show of extending a compassionate touch, and caleb full heartedly rejects that, removing her hand. he’s been failed by adults who were supposed be safe too many times, and he has no interest in her in his space, nor in buying into her act.

personal space is important to him, and he gets antsy when it’s been compromised. that being said, he can also be extremely tactile ❤️ it’s more specific in terms of who it comes out with, but he’s much more receptive to touching with people he feels safe with, and much more likely to reach out, as well. it’s most evident with hanna in the earlier seasons, but over time shows up in other relationships on screen, such as when he and spencer hug with great ease and warmth or when he embraces emily in the lighthouse. he is a physical person, and when he’s in a romantic relationship with someone one of his foremost ways of showing affection is through physical touch - but that also goes hand in hand with a great deal of trust and intimacy and comfort, as is seen with hanna.

it’s also crucial to note that one of the foremost parts of my caleb’s arc is opening up with @lingeringscars bellamy, who adopts him somewhere between s2-3 (i think). they have some rocky moments, but reaching a place where he feels completely safe with bellamy is a critical aspect of caleb’s healing. bellamy works very hard to make caleb feel safe and comfortable, and it’s a long road, but once they get there, they have a very physically affectionate relationship and it means the world to me🥹❤️ especially as caleb meets his birth father who carries a lot of toxic ideas about masculinity and pushes them on caleb, it’s so important for him to have a dad who is so aware of caleb’s background and who with whom there has been such an absence of pressure to aspire to stereotypical masculinity by withholding emotion or ~toughening up. they cry a lot and hug a lot and it’s beautiful.

[mastermicd]

@lingeringscars liked for a starter (still accepting).

gaze lifted from the papers in front of her, falling on the younger woman stood in her doorway. scottie would like to say that she was surprised, but with the number of people who seemed to be dropping by her office unannounced these days, it was practically becoming a force of habit. gone were the days of working uninterrupted. "what can i do for you, miss hastings?" she asked as she rose from her seat, taking careful steps as she rounded the edge of her desk to approach spencer. "i thought you were being kept busy elsewhere, with other cases."

[terrifyingstories2]

maybe, in a way, it’s a good thing hanna’s used to the sound of thumping in her ears - maybe that’ll make it easier, somehow, to overcome the sensation of her heart beating against her ribcage and the dizzy, shaky feeling that follows, like she might throw up or hyperventilate. she’d like to think everything they’ve been through is worth something, after all, at least the ability to get through this next part without losing what little she managed to shove down for lunch. 

if hanna knows how to do anything, it’s poke the bear, no matter how big or grizzly - there’s still an awful cut at the edge of her mouth from her last bataille (forgive her, spencer, if her pronunciation’s all off, but sometimes she makes the mistake of thinking more about the shape of your mouth around the things you say rather than the words that come out, and there’s something especially exquisite about love languages when they roll off your tongue), and she still winces every time she catches a glimpse of her back in the bathroom mirror, but if what she could lose if this doesn’t come out right would leave her worse yet. what a.d did to her would be no comparison to the image of spencer marching out that door, and so the blood on her hands, the not so metaphorical knives in her back, the master class they’ve been given in losing is of no consequence, because if she loses spencer, she loses everything. 

for all she’s lost, she hasn’t lost that yet. she hasn’t lost spencer yet. and if she does, that sputtering heart of hers will surely give out. 

“sorry,” hanna stutters, hands clasped too tightly to allow spencer to see the ring finger without a ring but more than enough to put her nerves up on the biggest billboard in town.  “my heart’s - pounding like a jackrabbit. i um...” she sucks in a breath, because if she doesn’t she won’t have the strength for another, and if she doesn’t breathe she’ll pass out, and if she passes out she’ll never say what she needs to say, and for reasons she can’t remember now, spencer has to hear it, even if it amounts to nothing, even if it breaks hanna’s heart into pieces.  “i need to...” another shallow breath, “i need to talk to you.” / @lingeringscars​

[doomdays]

@lingeringscars said, "when we get home, I just want to be happy."

was she happy back at home?   sometimes,  it might have been easy to pretend.   she could lose herself in the ridiculous drama of high school and gossip,   frustrating but at least 'normal.'   but then she thought about her home life,  how her parents' relationship was so strained after they lost thomas,   how she and her brother were always left wondering,  given no answers.  she can still feel that strain between them here,  but it's different,  too —   like they've come together in a way they couldn't have possibly done before,  maybe they even learned to forgive each other.   julie doesn't actually know what to make of that,   she just knows that if anything,  this place bought them more time to be a family.  but she's still not sure where she fits,  finding more comfort in spending her time with fatima and ellis, feeling some sort of independence that she longed for when she felt so lost at home.

it still feels right,  no matter how badly her parents may wish she had chosen differently.  it's what julie needed to do for herself.

but there's still so much about herself that she can't figure out,  so much of her that she doesn't have the chance to figure out when she's been ripped away from home,  from her life.   it feels like she's losing time,  and that's terrifying—   like she needs to hurry up and be the adult she's been trying to prove to her parents she is,  yet she doesn't want to lose her youth,  all the time she should be spending figuring out who she wants to be.

❝  this place has its moments,  right?  ❞    she says,  almost hopeful.   ❝  I mean—   I guess,  sometimes it's nice,  being here,  and .  .  .  not being there. ❞   in the daylight,  anyway,  when danger doesn't lurk outside their windows,  taunting them.   ❝ I try not to think about what's waiting at home.  if anything's waiting,  ❞    she adds, furrowing her brows because it's something she tries not to think about, too.   ❝  do you think it'll be easy?  just—    being happy after all this?  ❞   it's a genuine question;   she wants to believe it.  but they've also experienced it,  so what happens then?   how do they forget—   and how do they hold onto the things she doesn't want to forget.

[terrifyingstories]

@lingeringscars: it is me. i am standing with you. just please let me in.

there's a pleading note in spencer's voice that ties caleb's stomach up in knots. he doesn't know how anyone could be immune to that, the heart-wrenching way he can hear her trying with all her might not to fall to pieces. he couldn't wall himself off from her if he wanted to, and he doesn't. it's the last thing he wants to do.

"come here," caleb says immediately, wrapping her up in his arms as soon as he's close enough to touch her.

"i'm here. i'm so sorry. my phone died." he goes to touch her face before it occurs to him that he might not be allowed that anymore, gently brushing her cheeks, "are you okay?"

[ladyintree]

@lingeringscars, "i thought i was ready for this."

spencer doesn't crack; tai knows that, and it's part of why she's always respected her so much, the sense of familiarity drawing them closer ( and apart, when competition calls for it, but that was always the most fun part of their friendship. ) her confession makes tai want to admit the same: she's not ready for this, either. not ready to resume her life after everything she's gone through, not ready to hit 'play' on a life she was exiled from for so long, but she can't admit that to her, because then she would have to admit it to herself, and it's the last thing she needs. she has to be okay, she has to believe everything is normal and that she can move on, as if picking up from where she left off was really that simple after everything the wilderness took from her.

but if spencer's not okay, then how can tai truly convince herself that she's fine, too?

she quickly slides over, bringing a hesitant hand to her shoulder, urging her to look back at her. ❝  you are. hey, no one's after you anymore. don't let those people take up any more of your energy than they already have. this is still your life. ❞ words she tells herself everyday, forcing herself to believe them, no matter how hard it is.

[bruiseeasily]

🎁 / lando & jordan

spotify wrapped: snap out of it by artic monkeys jordan baker and lando johnson | @lingeringscars

"what have you been up to?" jordan greets lando as soon as he sees him across from campus. he loves los angeles, he loves golden angeles university but whenever he comes to bringston, he misses what he could've had here. this time he has come with spencer, which is why he knows the latest gossip. "i heard that you fell in love, or near enough."

[loveisaviolence3]

 meme   /   @lingeringscars.

of all the variables in the process of undoing him (the building tension, the history looking over his shoulder, and what he mistakes for distrust and suspicion), the slight tremble of her voice packs the biggest punch. it registers as fear, and it is too easy for him to confuse fear with doubt. there is something aching in caleb that can’t stand the thought of being doubted, that is immediately tempted to grow cold and defensive in response, build some kind of shelter for himself so that he is not left at the quarter of winter. 

he only narrowly escapes the urge, and only through his familiarity with her. the established intimacy between them. the heart in his chest that swells whenever he looks at her. 

as she speaks he lures the dawdling child within him out of hiding with reassurances, hers and his own. the room expands again until they both fit comfortably inside, increasing in size like a lung post inhale, the formerly contracting walls a memory. her little intake of breath makes him regret the few moments he spent feeling cornered before reminding himself that she wasn’t an intruder, lumping her in with every other person who has ever violated him and trapped in the painful recollection of the years he spent with no space to call his own. 

he’s not that kid now, caleb reminds himself. he has his own space, can establish his own boundaries. he has a home and he’s invited spencer inside. he loves having her here inside this safe place he’s managed to build for himself. truth be told, it doesn’t feel half as much like home without her here. it doesn’t feel half as safe, either. so he’s sure when he speaks, absolutely sure, and he’s already decided when she does. 

“i’m not mad.”  the reassurance is uttered with a gentle touch to her knee, an attempt to coax her into looking at him. “you don’t have to apologize. i get it.”  he knows what it’s like to be desperate for answers, to make poor choices in order to get them. he knows what it’s like to feel like the person you love is pulling away.  “just.. ask me next time. and..” 

his gaze lowers. when he continues, his voice is quiet – strained despite his best efforts to conceal the hurt.  “trust me.”  the idea that she may not pains him. 

a muted shake of his head follows her clarification as he deems it unnecessary, and his forehead quickly bows to softly bump against the curve of her shoulder before lifting again when he opens his mouth to speak. “’i trust you. and i want to...” the words feel kind of ridiculous, but he swallows his sheepishness and continues forward even as his throat closes up, eyes still downcast.  “and i want to share things with you. nothing’s off limits.”

[buildhope]

“i missed you.”   →   @lingeringscars.

when it comes to the people that he grew up around,  there are very few that alden misses.  the families that his father often tried to make him and benny blend with never quite held alden’s interest  ---  mostly because they were all much more interested in his father and what he had to offer,  or his brother,  who got along with them much easier than alden.  and that was always slightly strange,  considering how easy it is for alden to make friends and how simple it is for him to mesh with others  ---  but these people were never really his speed,  and he never had anything to offer them that would interest them.

spencer was always different, though.  he never felt like she aligned with the rest of her family,  the same way he never quite did  ---  and that’s what made their dinners with the hastings family more bearable.  and now,  seeing her again,  he finds himself even more grateful for knowing her family,  even if it’s just to know her now.   back then,  if he believed anyone was capable of changing the world for good,  it was her.  he still believes that,  seeing her now.

❝  oh,  i woulda thought you’d have forgotten all about me by now,  ❞   he insists,  a playful grin spreading over his features as he looks her over.  ❝  wouldn’t have blamed ya,  either,  but i’m real glad ya didn’t  ---  ‘cause i missed you too,  spencer.  ❞   there’s a sense of freedom here now,  knowing they can truly just be themselves,  no reservations  (  even if he never had any before  ---  but without anyone looking over his shoulder,  it’s refreshing.  )  ❝  i wanna know everything,  y’know,  but  ---  start by tellin’ me what ya got goin’ on now.  ❞