#self-para||luke

[justcallmecal]

Last Stardust

Quietly with the receding rainfall The night wind, it suddenly withdrawals With my broken heart I stand alone Only silence at my side

TW: death, (response to Luke's death)

Cal slowly walked into the library closing the door behind him, he'd radioed the other librarians to let them know the library would be closed for the day. As well as had put up a sign, with whatever that video had been he didn't trust the computers not to get overwhelmed by people wanting to watch it.

If he was honest though he hardly cared about that, he could hear whines when he walked fully in. He wasn't sure how he'd known she'd be here, but he knew Luke. No foul play. The words echoed in his head as he walked towards his office. He'd swing by the police station tell them that was accurate, because why else would Lady be here?

When he opens the door she bowls him over, barely managing to keep her in his lap. Behind her he can see her things laid out, a bed, along with food and water. Swallowing he presses his face against the side of Lady's neck, she'd been likely to bolt until she seemed to sense the overwhelming anxiety that was creeping on him.

"So my brother decided to stay home instead of coming with, kind of wish he had cause this road is creepy as fuck."

He can feel his shoulders trembling, Mallory's video playing in his head. The fear she'd felt when those things had come for her, she'd called out for him and he hadn't been there. Had Luke felt that same fear? They had dinner together and he hadn't realized how much he'd really been hurting.

He's not sure how long he sits there, just clinging onto Lady. Getting up he grabs her things into a bag, his apartment isn't big enough for a dog really. Maybe Celia would let him stay until they could find something for him and her. Clipping her leash on he walked back out of the library with her bag over his shoulder. Let's her lead him, isn't surprise when she leads him back to Luke's. It's already been cleared out for the most part.

Unclipping her from her leash he let's her go inside before sitting down in front of the house. He'll get her eventually, suddenly understanding more what Luke had meant that it doesn't feel real. Nothing feels real. Pressing his hands against his eyes he feels his shoulders shaking again, swallows back a sob, "Tell Lincoln we said hi," he mumbles to himself.

[ofneedlemoving]

TAG DUMP

[darcytaylor]

I'm aware this is unfair and you don't have to entertain it, but I resent Antonia a little bit for making me think less of Luke because of her actions. Whenever she posts, I reexamine my opinion of him, not because of anything he's done, but because him being with her doesn't square with the opinion I've formed of him based on how he shows up in the world. I know it's not his responsibility to fit in with my view of him, I'm just tired of this. I don't know what to think of him at all anymore. I want to be a fan but she's making it hard. There's always that niggling feeling in the back of my mind of, what if he's in on the trolling, y'know? I just hope it isn't the case.

Thank you for sharing this - it’s an honest and vulnerable perspective, and I know people can relate to the dissonance you’re describing. It’s natural to form an opinion of someone based on how they present themselves publicly, and when their personal choices seem at odds with that image, it can feel weird (I’ve brought this up in another post a while back). I think your self-awareness about this is important, especially in acknowledging that it’s not his responsibility to fit into the image you’ve formed of him, even if it’s frustrating at times.

I also get why you may be questioning if he’s in on the trolling (if there is any trolling to begin with - I mean, there probably is some, but most of it seems pretty harmless). That said, I do think things tend to get blown way out of proportion by the fandom. However, unless there’s clear evidence of something more intentional, try to remind yourself that it might just be social media noise and not reflective of any deeper meaning on his part (and even hers).

On a more personal note, I’ve realized that I wouldn’t likely be friends with Luke or his type of friends (sorry, but it’s true, haha). Theatre aside, I can tell they’re not a group I’d naturally connect with - and honestly, that includes Luke. Have I seen some questionable things done by Antonia and her mother? Yes. But again, I don’t know any of the people involved. Who knows? Maybe I’d actually be best friends with all of them, haha! It’s entirely possible my preconceived notions are shaping this belief.

So again, I can’t stress this enough: it’s important to remember that we don’t actually know any of the people involved, and that includes Antonia (we don't actually know what kind of person she is). The image she’s curated within the fandom is partly her own doing, but at the end of the day, maybe she just doesn’t care about how she’s perceived in these spaces. While that might bother some people, it could also be seen as a good thing. If she’s happy and living her life on her own terms, then maybe that’s all that matters to her - and that could be valid.

I’ll admit, I’m way more of a people-pleaser. I hate confrontation, and I’d feel emotionally crushed if I had thousands of people hating me online. But just because I’d approach things differently doesn’t mean her way is wrong or ultimately makes her a bad person. It might just reflect different priorities, values, or ways of dealing with public scrutiny.

She is also very young, and what she posts is on brand for her and her friend group - which includes Luke. This doesn’t make me hate Luke, though. I think he’s super talented, and I find myself more invested in his career choices than his personal ones.

I think this all comes back to the complicated nature of para-social relationships. It’s okay to feel conflicted or even disappointed - it’s a natural part of navigating these dynamics. But maybe it’s worth considering whether entertaining her social media is really helping you. If it’s becoming too frustrating, it might be easier to block her and remove that source of stress for yourself. I know people on the internet tend to repost things, so it can be hard to avoid her altogether, but there are definitely spaces that don’t focus on her actions and posts. Maybe try to find a community like that (even just for a little while), because at the end of the day, she’s just a person who might be dating Luke.

[theforbiddeneden]

FROM THE ROOM BELOW - LAFAYETTE - SLEEP TOKEN - 29/04/2022

Cr: Luke Honeysett, link

I believe it is fair to say that we've both been awaiting this moment for a considerable period of time. Suffice to say, we are sorry to have kept you waiting however, while it may differ in it's presentation, the intention at its core remains the same. We are here to silently collect. To project ourselves onto one-another. We are here to remember. We are here to forget. We are here to.... Worship.

Acredito que seja justo dizer que ambos esperamos por este momento há um período considerável de tempo.

Basta dizer que lamentamos ter feito você esperar, no entanto, embora possa diferir na apresentação, a intenção em sua essência permanece a mesma.

Estamos aqui para coletar silenciosamente.

Para nos projetarmos um no outro.

Estamos aqui para lembrar.

Estamos aqui para esquecer.

Estamos aqui para Adorar.

Some time ago i was given a message. It was a message that originated from one among you. Someone possessed by a strong desire to tell me something, the message went very simply: You. Saved. Me. I have thought about this message a great deal since. It left me with a feeling that I had somehow been mistaken for someone else. I did not save anyone. I do not believe I have the capacity to save anyone. All I have ever given anyone is a small window into the emotional waiting-room of my mind. I do so whilst doing everything in my power to minimize my own vulnerability. In this way I am selfish. I choose not to give what others can? And yet, I am the benefactor of this thankful praise. I experienced a great deal of pain in my life, however I do not believe I have suffered as you have suffered. Perhaps that Is another reason why we are here. At the very least, we have all suffered.

Há algum tempo, recebi uma mensagem. Foi uma mensagem que se originou de um de vocês. Alguém possuído por um forte desejo de me dizer algo, a mensagem foi muito simples:

Você. Me. Salvou.

Tenho pensado muito sobre esta mensagem desde então. Isso me deixou com a sensação de que, de alguma forma, fui confundido com outra pessoa.

Eu não salvei ninguém.

Não acredito que tenha capacidade de salvar ninguém. Tudo o que dei a alguém foi uma pequena janela para a sala de espera emocional da minha mente. Faço isso enquanto faço tudo ao meu alcance para minimizar minha própria vulnerabilidade.

Desta forma sou egoísta.

Eu escolho não dar o que os outros podem? E, no entanto, sou o benfeitor deste louvor agradecido. Senti muita dor em minha vida, mas não acredito que tenha sofrido como você sofreu. Talvez essa seja outra razão pela qual estamos aqui.

No mínimo, todos nós sofremos.

I would sincerely like to thank you for taking the time to be here. I once again apologize for how long it took for this ritual to come into fruition. I would also like to take this chance to tell you something. To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. My own path towards greater self acceptance is paved with the art that I create. It is a path I continue to stumble down at the expense of everything else. I am nothing without this music. I am nothing without this mask. So In this sense, the message I received was true, but only in an inverse sense. The truth is, I did not save anybody. You. Saved. Me.

Gostaria de agradecer sinceramente por dedicar seu tempo para estar aqui. Mais uma vez peço desculpas pelo tempo que demorou para que este ritual se concretizasse.

Eu também gostaria de aproveitar esta oportunidade para lhe dizer uma coisa. Amar a si mesmo não é uma tarefa fácil como às vezes dizem que é.

Todos nós somos limitados por alguma coisa.

Todos somos culpados de alguma coisa.

Meu próprio caminho para uma maior autoaceitação é pavimentado com a arte que crio. É um caminho que continuo a trilhar às custas de todo o resto.

Não sou nada sem essa música.

Não sou nada sem esta máscara.

Então, nesse sentido, a mensagem que recebi era verdadeira, mas apenas no sentido inverso.

A verdade é que não salvei ninguém.

Você. Me. Salvou.

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cr:

Transcription English Version from click here

Portuguese translation theforbiddeneden

Photos taken by Luke Honeysett, click here

SLEEP TOKEN- FROM THE ROOM BELOW- LAFAYETTE, click here

[summercassidy]

A Place to Call Home | Self Para

2200 words. Featuring: Sadie Levitt, Luke Levitt (mentioned), Quentin Levitt, Prue Cassidy (mentioned). TW: fire, burns, hospital, internalised homophobia (if you squint).

When Summer found out she was pregnant, the first thing she did was cry.

When Summer found out she was pregnant, the first thing she did was cry. If you asked her today, she would tell you it was from happiness. How she was so lucky to finally be blessed with a child. If she told you this, it would be a lie. When Summer found out she was pregnant, the first thing she did was cry. She felt like her life was over; like her career was ending before it had even began.

Of course, her husband Quentin was over the moon with the news. Really, he was the only reason she even went through with the pregnancy. He had always wanted a child, and she had always wanted fame. She never expected the two paths to cross, until that cross appeared on the test she held in her hand in their bathroom. She wasn't the motherly type. She saw kids as pre-adults, and she had no idea how to talk to them or play with them or spend time with them. She didn't even know how to speak to her own sister at times.

When Sadie was born, Summer spent the first two weeks just staring at her. She was hoping the maternal instinct would suddenly rip through her bones and take over like one of those lions in a documentary she accidentally watched when she couldn't find the TV remote. She was so tiny, she was afraid that one wrong move would hurt her. Quentin, of course, was fantastic, so she left most of it up to him. He was a father; he had been a father before Sadie was even born, simply waiting in the wings to take his role. Summer on the other hand felt like an imposter, like she had stepped out onto the stage without learning any lines, bumbling her way through a performance when everyone else knew their parts well.

Eventually, she began to understand Sadie. She was kind, clever, smart and inquisitive. She reached for Summer's hand when they were walking down the street, and she drew pictures of her when she went to daycare. Summer began to think that she was actually doing something right, even if she still didn't know her lines. So when she was back in the same bathroom, looking at the same result on a stick three years later, she didn't cry. She felt like she was ready.

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By the time Sadie was seven, her mother was a household name. A stream of successful box office hits solidified her legacy, and soon she saw her less and less until she was only visible on the screen, acting out as someone else's mother or pretending to be in love with some else's dad. When she was home, it was almost worse. She sometimes woke up to the sound of her parents fighting, trying their best to keep their voices hushed and hissed, but her mother was an actress when push came to shove, and keeping her voice low was not one of her strengths. Still, she relished when she would wake to the sound of her gentle voice, the sun reflecting off of her golden hair as she gathered her into her arms. She would breathe in the scent of a perfume that was just simply mom, closing her eyes and imagining she could stay there forever, even if she knew it could never happen.

A tear fell down Sadie's face as the incandescent glow of eight candles began to make their way to her. Her dad had an optimistic smile on his face, but the spot beside him was missing. Her mother had promised she would be there, had even performed the sacred 'no take backs' which had become a foundation of their trust in each other. She hadn't seen her in six weeks, hadn't even had a happy birthday call from her. She could tell her dad was upset, but he forced a smile for her, asking her to make a wish as the cake was set in front of her. She closed her eyes, thought of her mother for a brief moment before a coldness took over. She forced herself to think of something more reliable and blew.

The shouting was louder than ever that night. Sadie had no idea when her mother had returned home, but when the fighting woke her up, she could hear the distant tune of a bird, completely unaware of the tears and shouting that happened in their home. Her mom was talking different, her words slurred together more and her voice was even louder than usual. Her dad sounded angry. Creeping out of bed, she moved to the top step of the stairs, perching herself down so she could get a better view. ""Don't fucking turn this on me, Summer! I have defended you for missing so many things for so long that tonight I had nothing to say to make it better. I was the one she constantly asked when you were getting there and every time I told her you were probably already on your way. Don't you fucking dare accuse me of driving a wedge between you and your children because you are doing a mighty fine job of that on your own." Sadie forced herself to stay quiet, watching her parents fight. Not knowing it was going to be the last day they were all going to be under the same roof.

"Happy big 13th birthday gorgeous girl!! will see you soon. love u so much. xxx". Sadie rolled her eyes as she deleted the text immediately. Of course Summer couldn't spare five minutes to actually call her. She probably got her assistant to send the text for her, lest she disturb her perfect manicure. It had been months since she had last seen her mother in the flesh, and she was glad of it. The woman was intolerable, and she had found herself beginning to deny to her classmates that she was even her daughter. They were like night and day; Summer was a pink, bubbly cloud of fake happiness and rainbows while Sadie was a realist, choosing to see things the hard way. There was so much Summer didn't know about her, she wasn't sure if the title of 'mother' was even still appropriate. She had her dad, she had her aunts and uncles, she had Prue (who was technically an aunt but more like a friend. Besides, she didn't like to dwell on the fact that she came from the same source as Summer) and she had Luke, who still held onto the childish believe that she still cared.

"Why don't you try this skirt on, babe? Seriously, all the girls your age are wearing them. Don't you want to try and be more like them? You're beautiful, Sades. It's about time we see that." She didn't know how she ended up getting roped into shopping with her mom. She had crawled back to East Haven with her tail between her legs following her exile from Los Angeles, and ever since she had been like a flea Sadie couldn't quite shake. Summer was so desperate to turn her into a cardon copy of herself that she didn't take a moment to see that Sadie wasn't her. She wasn't girly or smiley or bubbly or- Sadie had realised she was gay when she was about twelve. She guessed she always sort of knew she was different, but she thought that was a given when she was the offspring of the world's biggest narcissist. She had confided in Prue when she knew for sure, and she felt like a weight had been removed from her shoulders when she was met with the validation she had been craving. Despite the fact she never vocalised it to her father, she was sure he knew as well. He never questioned her about boys or the friends that she had. Summer, on the other hand, was oblivious. She would always try and talk to her about the cute boys in her class or the dresses she should wear to prom and everything that simply wasn't Sadie. She had convinced herself that if Summer found out, she would see her as a stain on her reputation. The perfect Summer Cassidy has a queer daughter. She could imagine the look on her face.

Sadie watched as the wind forced a tree branch to join in its cruel dance, nearly taking it off the trunk entirely. She didn't understand why her mom had dragged her to the mall the day a windstorm was due. That was Summer, though. Act now, think later seemed to be her slogan. Summer had convinced her she needed a new pair of shoes, and Sadie was trying her best to delay that plan for as long as she could, deliberately spending time in every store in the place. She had ducked into the candle store just as Summer had began a conversation with an old friend from school or something, watching as the woman ended her conversation abruptly to follow her inside. "Sadie, will you just- stop!" Summer never yelled, and it did cause Sadie to freeze. "I have been trying my best for you, Sades. I've really been putting in an effort, but you're making this, like...so much harder than it needs to be. If there's something I need to do to make the last few years up to you, please just let me know. Until then, can you stop just acting like a child?" Sadie opened her mouth to respond, but she never got far enough to do that. Everything happened so fast. Wind had been blowing the candles, which had caught fire on the surrounding furniture in the store behind the mother and daughter without them knowing, which had grown bigger and wilder the longer they stood. Sadie was in shock, staring at the growing flame while Summer repeatedly told her to get away. More candles fell, more flames. If it was between fight or flight, Sadie discovered she was in flight. The last thing she remembered was her mom pushing her out of the way. And a scream.

It took Sadie longer than he was proud of to visit her mom in the hospital. She knew that the accident was her fault; she had only gone into the store to piss her off. Whilst she had been questioning if her mom really cared about her or not, she risked her life for her. It should have been her in that hospital bed, covered in burns. Eventually, she knew she had to go and see her. She gulped as she walked into the hospital room, almost afraid at what she might find. She was surprised to find her mom sitting upright in the bed reading a magazine, the portions of her skin on display seemingly unaffected by the malicious fire. As soon as Summer looked up and spotted her, she set down the magazine and stared at her for a moment, before a smile stretched across her lips and she held her arms out for a hug. Sadie immediately accepted it, almost dashing into her mother's arms. The familiar scent of her perfume transported her back to when she was a child, when the only time she felt safe was in her mom's arms. She still felt like that, she just didn't know it.

They spent what felt like hours talking, snacking on the box of chocolates someone had left for her mom. Eventually, the conversation drifted off and she could see there was a question forming on her lips, dying to get out. "Sades," she began, looking at her daughter with imploring eyes. "I want to understand you better. I know you don't like fashion and glamour like I do, but I want to know what you do like, so I can be there for you and enjoy the things you do." Her round blue eyes were genuine, and Sadie knew it was the point of no return. She took a deep breath and began to explain everything to her mom. She kept a close eye on her face, waiting for her expression to change or asking her to get out. Instead, shockingly, a smile returned to her face. "That's it? That's what you were so scared to tell me? Babe, you love whoever you want to love, it has nothing to do with me. All I've ever wanted is for you to be happy, and I know I'm the person that took that happiness away from you for a while, but I'll do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again." Sadie was relieved, feeling like her mother was finally seeing her. Still, there was one more question she needed to ask her. "Stay then. Stay in East Haven. You don't have to get back together with Dad or give up your job, but I don't want you to leave again. Please, mom?" Her heart raced, waiting for the familiar rejection. Instead, Summer nodded, reaching for Sadie's hand and squeezing it. "Why would I leave when I'm home, Sades?"

[danieleansworth]

Self Para 1

Date: June 7th, 2018 Age: 19 Location: Village of Freyew, Ly’Lor’Ke Description: How Daniel's first relationship ended. The ex: Wenfrin “Wen” Zov (fc: Luke Hemmings, but specifically Luke Hemmings with this general kind of vibe https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/5sos/images/2/29/Such_wow.jpg/revision/latest/smart/width/250/height/250?cb=20150617084933 . Ignore all other Luke Hemmings stuff, I don’t know the guy) Accompanying song: Midnight Rain - Taylor Swift (Midnights)

The gentle snore coming from the head resting on his shoulder told Daniel that he was now the only person watching the film. That was alright. He knew that Wenfrin had only agreed to watch it because it would make him happy; musicals weren’t really his boyfriend’s thing. He also knew that Wen’d had a busy afternoon tending to crops. Daniel’s afternoon had been just as busy with the same, so he knew firsthand how tiring it could be. So he wasn’t really upset, just the tiniest bit disappointed at another date night where it had been his turn to pick the activity, and Wen dozed off during the film he picked - or used it as background for chatting, or to make out to. Not that he could really be upset about any of those, either. He liked talking to his boyfriend, and everything else they got up to together during movies. It would be nice if they could really watch a movie together every once in a while, too, but he didn’t quite know how to ask for that without making it sound like he was unhappy, when he wasn’t. For now though, he reckoned he ought to pause the film so that he could let Wen rest, and watch the rest on his own later. Except that when he paused the film, the snoring stopped and the weight of Wen’s head on his shoulder lifted. Whoops.

“Sorry, did I doze off?” Wen asked as he shifted slightly away from Daniel to stretch his arms, then settled back in again. He glanced at now-paused paused movie, then back to Daniel again. “We can keep watching, if you like.”

Daniel considered his options, then shook his head. “No, that’s alright. It is getting a little late - probably won’t have time to finish it anyway. We can leave it off,” he suggested, trying to push away that little disappointed feeling that came again at Wen looking relieved. He had every right to not want to watch a movie right now, Daniel reminded himself. 

“If you’re sure,” Wen answered, tail end of the sentence trailing off into a yawn as he settled back into his boyfriend’s arms, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Sorry I’ve been so tired lately - fieldwork’s been taking a lot out of me.”

“It’s alright, I know how this time of year is,” Daniel allowed, carding his fingers through the leaves atop Wen’s head. 

“Still, it’ll be worth it come harvest. I heard the council’s considering doing something extra for the harvest festival this year if the yield’s high. Which it will be,” Wen enthused, appearing to come out of his sleepiness somewhat at the prospect of something exciting. 

Daniel felt a small pang at that, the reminder of a time in the not too terribly distant future when life in this little town would go on without him, when Wen would be here without him. “You’ll have to tell me all about it,” he encouraged anyway, reminding himself that he was going to have to get used to missing harvest festivals and a whole lot more than that before too long. 

“What d’you mean?” Wen asked, evidently confused - which in turn had Daniel confused.

“Erm - I mean… I’d like to hear about it?” Daniel answered uncertainly, suddenly worried that the issue had been him saying Wen ‘had’ to tell him about it, which was more a figure of speech than anything else. “Sorry, I didn’t mean - it’d be really nice if you felt up to telling me about it, but I s’pose I could always hear about it from someone else?” He didn’t think the harvest festival was a particularly sensitive subject, though. Did that just mean that Wen wasn’t going to want to tell him anything at all, come that time of year? Oh no, was that what Wen meant? 

“That isn’t -” Wen cut off, still looking pretty confused. He began again. “What I’m wondering is, why would you need someone to tell you about it? Wouldn’t you be able to just see it for yourself?”

Oh… oh no. Daniel just stared for a moment as the panic rose, unable to make sense of the situation or find the words to talk through it. He hadn’t forgotten to tell Wen that he was planning on leaving town when he came of age, had he? No, that was stupid, he definitely hadn’t forgotten to mention it. He’d known Wen for ages, and he’d been one of the first people he’d told when he’d made up his mind. He’d brought it up since then too of course, plenty of times - though he hadn’t mentioned it much lately, because he’d seen how sad Wen seemed to get when he brought it up. Which was understandable; he wasn’t exactly looking forward to being far away from his boyfriend either. Would they even be boyfriends at that point? They hadn’t talked about it. Oh, no. Was Wen planning on cutting off contact? Is that why he’d been confused about talking about the harvest festival? Wait, no, Wen had literally just said the part he was wondering about was why he would need someone to tell him about it. Which again, didn’t make sense, because Daniel had definitely mentioned his plans of leaving town once he came of age. “Wen… the festival’s weeks after my birthday,” Daniel reminded his boyfriend gently, having come to the conclusion that that was the piece that Wen must have forgotten. That was a little disappointing, but he told himself not to get worked up about it. It was just a day; anyone could forget. 

“Right, I know that,” Wen assured him, still looking confused, until – he pulled back, sitting up straight to look at Daniel head on. “Hang on, do you mean to say… are you still planning on – on leaving?”

Daniel hadn’t been expecting that at all. Not the question, and certainly not the hurt expression on Wen’s face as he asked it. “I, well – yes,” Daniel replied hesitantly, still pretty confused. Why wouldn’t he be leaving? It had been a couple months since he’d brought it up, sure. But only because it seemed like it wasn’t something Wen wanted to hear about. “I… I told you I was planning to, didn’t I? And, erm - I never changed my mind and said I wasn’t going to…?”

“But you didn’t mention it when I asked you out,” Wen protested. Perhaps he saw how that failed to clear up the confusion in Daniel’s expression, because he deflated a little, and added in a quieter voice, “I just… I don’t know. I guess when you said yes, I… I just thought you might have decided to stay. For us?”

“I… what…?” It was taking a moment for Daniel to catch up to that train of thought. It did occur to him that he probably should have said something more than that, but his mind was still reeling too much to work out what. He wanted to be a performer, a dancer. That was always what he’d wanted ever since he’d known what that was. It hadn’t taken him much longer to work out that there wasn’t exactly much need for dancers in Freyew - as much as he loved his family and friends, he would have to leave them to live someplace else if he was going to stand a chance of making that dream come true. He’d liked Wen for ages, and yes, it was bittersweet that they had less than a year to be together in the same place, but it had genuinely never occurred to him to put his plans on hold. If he was understanding this right, it seemed the concept had not just occurred to Wen, but had been deemed the most likely outcome. Which… what? He’d already said that though. “Sorry, I just… I like you, a lot. But I can’t - I can’t just stay put because we’re… I can’t stay here for you.” This felt very obvious to Daniel, and yet he felt just terrible as he was saying it. Obvious to him as it was, and as clear as he thought he had made it to Wen that he was leaving town when he came of age, it had clearly been far from obvious to his boyfriend. It was sort of hard to look at Wen now, actually, guilty as he felt for the expression on his boyfriend’s face. But looking down would be even worse, when it was his fault Wen was looking like that - and not saying anything either, Daniel was quick to notice, though he forced himself to be patient and let Wen collect his thoughts. 

“... Oh,” was all Wen said after several moments, looking away from Daniel and down at the floor as he spoke.

That… wasn’t a lot for Daniel to go on. What did ‘oh’ mean? He waited several beats longer for Wen to elaborate, trying to keep his panic at bay all the while. “Oh?” he finally repeated, a question in his tone as well as his gaze - as if that would make Wen look at him again, somehow. 

Whether the question was what prompted it or not, his boyfriend did look at him again after another moment. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. I mean, where does this leave us?” Wen finally asked.

“Well, my birthday isn’t for months, still,” Daniel answered, slightly confused. It was four months out still - almost five. Not all the time in the world, but enough that he was a little confused why Wen was asking where it left them right now. 

“Right, but you’re leaving right after that,” Wen answered, sounding rather stressed. “I just mean - did you think I was going to come with you? That we would be long distance? Were you just planning on dumping me?”

“Erm –” Right, Daniel felt absolutely horrible now. “Erm – I mean. It would be lovely if you wanted to come along, but I wasn’t expecting it. And, erm – sort of the same for long distance,” he admitted, getting progressively quieter as he spoke. “I – I was going to ask you what you wanted to do, but – you never seemed to want to talk about it, so…”

“So you were just going to leave one day without saying anything?” Wen asked. That… didn’t feel like a fair question to Daniel, but the way Wen looked and sounded so distressed as he said it took priority.

“I wasn’t - I mean - I was going to talk about it, I just. I thought you didn’t want to talk about it yet, and… I’m not leaving just yet, so…” Daniel almost said again that his birthday wasn’t for several months, but it didn’t feel like that would help. He wanted to reach out to try and comfort Wen, too, but - based on the way he seemed to be gradually recoiling further even still, that probably wasn’t the way to go. “I thought you just wanted to save it for later, so I was trying to respect that. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you didn’t know it was a conversation that needed to be had at all,” he finished instead, mumbling a little towards the end. “But, erm… we can talk about it now?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” Wen answered after several painfully long seconds. “You’re leaving, and I’m staying here. And I don’t see how a long distance relationship would work… unless you’re planning on moving back at some point?”

There was a little hope in Wen’s eyes at that last part, it looked like. Daniel hated to snuff it out, and his thoughts raced for something, anything that might make this better. “I’d be back to visit, but… no, I don’t plan on moving back,” he admitted. He wasn’t quite able to look Wen in the eye as he said it, which only made him feel all the worse. He really was a rubbish boyfriend, wasn’t he? He chewed at the edge of his lip.

“Right, then - I suppose I’m not sure what we’re doing,” Wen finally said when he spoke up again, sounding rather defeated. 

That got Daniel to look at him again. It was feeling rather hard to breathe suddenly, and Daniel had to remind himself that he very much needed to do that. Even if it sounded like… was Wen breaking up with him? “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean - I’m staying here, and you’re moving away in a few months. What are we…” Wen paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “Why are we together, if you’re just going to leave?”

Breathing normally wasn’t getting any easier. “W-well, I’m here now? And we - I really like you… and you told me you like me too?” Daniel’s answer sounded rather like a question.

“But that’s not enough,” came Wen’s immediate reply. Daniel couldn’t help but flinch back at that. Perhaps Wen decided that had been too harsh, because he sighed - though he still looked rather upset as he continued. “I just mean - yeah, I like you. But if this can’t go anywhere, I don’t… I don’t think it makes sense to keep seeing each other.”

Oh. “Oh,” was all Daniel managed to say, feeling rather small. Sounding rather small too, most likely. He opened his mouth again, though to say what he wasn’t sure. That he was here now, and would be for several months still? Wen already knew that. He closed his mouth again, then opened it. “I, erm - are you breaking up with me?” His vision was starting to blur, he realized - oh no, he couldn’t start crying. Later, certainly, but not while Wen was breaking up with him. He attempted to blink the tears away, but it didn’t work. Why wasn’t it working?

“I don’t want to break up with you. But if you aren’t going to stay, then… yeah, I think I am.” 

“Oh.” Oh no, Daniel had already said that. He probably sounded so stupid right now, repeating himself. But he might as well sound stupid, seeing as he was an idiot for leading Wen on. He hadn’t thought that was what he’d been doing, even in the slightest. Part of him still felt compelled to point out that he wasn’t leaving for several months yet, but he pushed that urge back - clearly, it didn’t matter. “I’m - I’m sorry.” Suddenly he could see more clearly, and he realized that was because the tears that had been filling his eyes had spilled over. No, no no no no, he wasn’t supposed to cry right now. He wiped the tears away quickly, as if that would make up for crying in the first place. 

“Yeah… me too,” Wen said quietly. Maybe it was Daniel’s imagination, but it looked like his eyes were wetter than usual, too - oh no, he didn’t want to make Wen cry, but - oh, too late. “I’d better get going…” Wen shifted, moving as if to stand up.

Daniel startled at that - he still hadn’t fully processed that Wen was breaking up with him, and he was already leaving? Don’t go. That was what he wanted to say, but - wouldn’t it be terribly selfish of him to ask that? When staying was the one thing he was refusing to give Wen, himself? He tried to take a deep breath, but it ended up being a series of shallow ones instead. “I – okay,” he said instead, barely audible. There was something new in Wen’s expression at that. Fresh disappointment? Had he been hoping Daniel would change his mind and decide that no, he would stick around in Freyew? Then the shift in expression was gone, and Daniel decided he must have imagined it. 

Wen stood up. “I’ll… see you around, I guess.” 

It seemed like he was lingering a little, so Daniel stood up too. “I, erm - yeah, I can w-walk you out.” Courtesy was running on autopilot, it seemed, even if he was too overwhelmed and upset to make the offer without stammering. Was it even a good thing to offer? Walking Wen to the door just meant they would both see each other crying for longer, and even if he hadn’t bolted for the door immediately, his now-ex was clearly in a hurry to be leaving. He walked with him anyway, though he didn’t get the door - Wen was in such a rush that he had that covered, it seemed. “I – I’m sorry.” There was a part of him that still felt like this wasn’t his fault, that couldn’t understand why Wen would break up with him just like that over something he’d thought he’d communicated months ago. But for the most part, he just felt like a horrible person. 

[lucastheoclarington]

Self Para - Retribution

Luke was stepping out of his car, and making his way towards the dorm. The night was dark, and for once quiet. It seemed that after all the craze of the last few days, people had finally exhausted themselves, and were staying in. He was whistling softly, as he pocketed his keys. He had just been over to the town's café, to drop off his donation of old suits, blazers, ties, pants, shirts, and shoes, to Fabray's drive, something that had taken him a minute to do, due to the state of the academy the past week.

He was feeling good. He had been reconnecting with family that actually mattered to him, lately. He had also been able to care for someone that had started to become important in his life. And he was finding himself lighter than before. He heard the creaking noise of leaves under shoes just in time to turn around and catch the first punch to his face.

As he fell, he looked up and instantly recognized the four men standing above him. Before he could be piled on, he jumped back, but barely avoided the second hit, only to be caught by the third, which made his ears ring. Retribution was a bitch. He had always known he'd have to contend with this one day, but he might not have expected it in this way, or so soon. He'd actually thought they'd try and ruin him socially in some way, but perhaps he'd given the fools too much credit.

He was caught in the stomach, but managed to grab a hold of the punching arm and twist it around, knocking the other's head into one of his friend's that came running in. And then everything narrowed down to that moment. He forgot who he was, what had started it, what would happen after, all that mattered was getting through and getting out. There was blood spat and skin split, and his entire face was throbbing, as well as his knuckles, before he had done enough damage of his own to get away without being pursued.

"Shit!" He kicked a trashcan as he cursed, turning around and tugging on his hair. Even without seeing himself, he knew there was no way to cover this up. He had never wanted this to get out, as much as he wasn't ashamed. He knew beating up a group of Doms for loudly humiliating his brother among themselves at his Junior College had been the most tempered or even wisest choice, but he was not ashamed. He had tried to get them to shut up before he resorted to shutting them up himself, and he'd done it. The Clarington name was saved, though he cared little about that, and more about Hunter's, more about none of this belittling, laughing, and glee over his perceived loss of manhood getting back to him.

He was panting, as he pulled out his phone, but tried to focus, taking bigger breaths, and commanding his body to obey. He needed a game plan at least for tonight. Where was the infirmary again? He looked around but in the dark he could scarcely remember, he did remember though that the nurse was the one available 24/7. Jones. Mercede's brother.

He texted Sebastian.

[kristinakaine]

The Crucifixion Birth - Good Friday

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.” Luke 23:46 Now, as the mighty Christ Being completes the process of occupying the body of Jesus, this Being makes the ultimate sacrifice. Crying out loudly he says to his progenitor, his Father, which can be his eternal I Am, his True Self, ‘I give myself to you.’ Commend or commit in Greek is paratithemi from para, a verb meaning going or coming,…

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

NDA

by decilhao

Tommy escreveu repetidamente em alguma folha aleatória do caderno, até simplesmente suas mãos doerem.

Tommy merecia isso.

Seus amigos estavam cada vez mais se afastando dele, apenas casualmente o chamando para alguns Vlogs ou Streams e depois o esquecendo novamente.

Assim como toda essa dor de comentários maldosos em seus vídeos, e a dor que ele causa em seu próprio corpo.

Ele merece isso.

Words: 1002, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Português brasileiro

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu, Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Luke | Punz, Phil Watson | Philza, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch | BadBoyHalo, Karl Jacobs, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot

Relationships: TommyInnit & TommyInnit's Father & TommyInnit's Mother (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & TommyInnit, GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch | BadBoyHalo & TommyInnit, Niki | Nihachu & TommyInnit, Luke | Punz & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Sad, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Self-Harm, Angst, Depression, Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Absent Parents, Suicide Notes, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Happy, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs Therapy (Video Blogging RPF), Good Wilbur Soot

[x-akari-xv]

TWO DECADES

This year I met the most broken and also the strongest and bravest me. The saddest and the happiest. The on fire and luke warm. The ugly and the beautiful one.

Several months ago, I was trying to save myself by gaining attention and validations from other people - I thought it will satisfy, fullfil and renew me. But it wont. It made me feel guilty for always asking opinions about me. Those likes, comments, and reacts fool me so I believe it will make me feel loved and seen. But again, it wont.

I always look on the beauty of others - their achievement, status, numbers of likes, their finances, studies and even their own race. Just to compare my self na wala pang naachieve sa edad kong 'to.

Some of them bought their car at the age of 19, having healthy relationship, good grades, work, stable finances and most of all - friends. How does it feel to have a life that I am praying for?

Then, I met the Lord. During the painful moments, I saw Him, comforting me in times I don't feel loving my self. Him who was there when no one else around. Him who was protecting me from the things I don't see that will harm me, I met Him, at the times I feel like giving up. It was the Lord who save me all along.

And I realized, it's not all about having a stable life. Sometimes God will break you in order to form you in a way that He will help you, lifting up yourself for the sake of your own Cross. At masakit sa pakiramdam na ikaw na ang nahihirapan pero ikaw din tutulong para sa sarili mo. This is why I love Him, for the way He have loved me for who I am.

So, It's okay if you still can't figure out your life at your 20's

Mahaba pa naman ang panahon, hindi pa mauubos ang oras pero mabilis ang araw.

And I am grateful that I finally found my purpose in life; by giving it up to Him and allowing Him to control it even if it is painful. Yet it is so beautiful. By serving Him through my family, ministry and studies.

Maybe this season I am allowed to be on my own. To stand alone with His guidance for me to learn and value those things around me. Because I was blinded of fake promises and treatment .

I will be forever stand with God and be judge by the world than to stand with the world and be judge by God

Happiest birthday to me!

You are wonderful, enough, beautiful and amazing. I pray that you will handle everything that your heart's praying for.

May your life be a blessing to some. May your testimonies help others to change. May your experience be your best teacher.

Praying for your heart that will have a solid foundation not to lower your standard because of loneliness.

The Lord is seeing you, and truly it doesn't take a trophy to make Him proud. Remember, you are loved, saved and forgiven.

[ivmwc]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 || Self-Para

who: Luke Benson, ft. Richard Benson when: Following Luke’s initial batch of visits at the hospital where: Wentworth Memorial summary: After getting her memories back, Luke calls her brother into her room in order to have a conversation

For all the smiling, joking, and reassuring she’d been doing all day, Luke had to admit that this experience had pushed her far beyond her limits. Even just the mere act of existing was currently a bit more than she felt she could manage, but the conversation she was currently sitting herself up properly for, was one that had to happen. And it had to happen ASAP. It had already been far too long as it were.

As she got herself situated, remembering briefly she had to sit a certain way, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching let her know her visitor was here. As the older man entered the room and closed the door behind him, Luke glanced up at her brother and asked, “If I hadn’t called you here today, would you have even bothered to come?”

Ricky simply scoffed in response. “Why do you always ask questions you already know the answer to?”

Luke gave her best attempt at a shrug and said, “Guess a part of me just wants to hear you actually admit it. Maybe there’s even a part of me that hopes you’ll prove me wrong one day...but you never do, do you?”

“What can I say? I’m nothing if not consistent,” he remarked, taking a seat in one the furthest chairs from the bed.

“I would ask why you decided to actually show up once I called you, but in a bid not to exasperate you, I’ll just go ahead and tell you why you came instead. If I was making the call myself, it meant one thing: I lived, bitch. Which is a problem for you on a few different levels. The first of which being that I’m now walking, talking proof that not only did you have direct dealings with Old Man Grey, you proactively sought him out and paid him to render ill services and provide forbidden goods.”

To his credit, Ricky didn’t even make an attempt to twist her words or gaslight her into thinking otherwise. Instead he just smiled and raised his hands as if to say ‘you got me’, before folding them over his lap as he leaned back into the chair. “You always have been too smart for your own good, you know. But obviously, if I’m here now and not in a prison cell awaiting to have the Council pass some sentence on me, it means you haven’t gone off to tell the world. So, I’m assuming that ol’ bleeding heart of yours is making you debate whether you’re really capable of ruining your brother’s life and by extension your niece’s,” he taunted, the confidence with which he spoke making it very clear that he truly believed this was the case. “Ether that or the bleeding in your brain has left you a little lacking in the braincell department.”

“Well, you did have my memory violently altered on three separate occasions, by a rather careless man who was already swinging way above his weight class in the skill level department to begin with so...” she trailed off, offering him a tight grin, before sighing. “But no. The reason you’re here now is because I have questions, you have answers, and, let’s face it, as a gambling man you’re aware that you don’t really have the better hand in this game so I expect you to sing like a canary...or at the very least like the garbled macaw dad sounded like.” The look of revulsion that crossed her brother’s features was more than enough to let Luke know she’d managed to hit the nail on the head. 

“So let’s start off easy, yeah...obviously you knew that the memory spell would make me forget the entire day of mom’s will reading, but when you made the decision to pay Old Man Grey to perform it, did you even pause for one second to think about how this was an action you were willing to have taken against a fifteen year-old? Like, was there a moment where you maybe had a brief second thought about how vile it was to pay an old man to rearrange a teenager’s memory without their consent?”

“No,” came the response, with no hesitation whatsoever. “I mean, sure when you take the time to put it like that it sounds awful, but I’m not about to lie and pretend that any of that even remotely crossed my mind as I handed the cash over. When I walked into the apothecary the only, all-consuming thought that I had was ‘I am the last real Benson. I am the one to continue our lineage, and my mother -in her infinite wisdom- has just left my legacy to a human knock-off instead.’ And well, between the two of us here, it’s never been a secret that I tend to process one thought at a time most days so...I’m not exactly proud of it, but I won’t lie and say I’d go back and change it either.”

Luke hummed in response as she said, “I do so love it when you choose to be honest. Even if you only do it because you think it’s the best way to hurt me. It honestly just makes things go by so much quicker... And in keeping with that expediency, let’s go on to my next question.” There was no way she was going to reward the man with any form of real reaction to his words. “At what point during the great family vacation to Rochester did you actually slip Keagan that potion?”

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been expecting him to be at least a little confused or thrown off by that question, but the look on his face almost made it seem like he’d been expecting it. Which, Luke wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing...

“Very first day.”

It wasn’t exactly like she hadn’t figured that might be the possible answer when she set out to ask, but having it confirmed as a definite? It took everything in her to keep her features schooled and from betraying the sudden rush of thoughts overwhelming her still fragile brain.

“When I offered to make a quick Starbucks run, I slipped it into her drink. The plan was to have her all to my self that night, as we ‘glamped’ it up. Of course Jarett made sure that didn’t happen. Granted, I figured it was all good. The effects were solid for 72 hours, so I still had the rest of the trip and, lo and behold, she was more than agreeable the next night.” It was a mixture of his tone and the look on his face as he said this that almost had Luke leaping out of the bed.

But then, his grin dropped and he leaned forward. “So obviously that led to your second little scramble, because not only would it be bad if you told on Old Man Grey, it would be pretty bad if you told on me too. Luckily, since you went and confronted the guy on your own, he did the work ‘on the house’, because after that vacation I would not have been able to afford it.”

Not wanting to allow herself too much time to think, Luke went on to her next question, “Why did you have him mess with my memory a third time?” She had been going through the newly restored memories of that day -Skylar’s first day home- and there was just nothing that jumped out as a clear reason. Ricky hadn’t said anything, nothing major outside of bringing the baby home had gone down...

Another scoff, followed by sarcastic laughter brought her attention back to her brother. “Oh please, you can’t be serious?” he shot at her, meanwhile the look of confusion on Luke’s face just grew. “Or wait, is this one of those where you just want to hear me say it? Because fine, I’ll say it: I caught on to the fact that you’d clocked the baby wasn’t mine. Alright! Satisfied?! I saw the way you were with her when putting her to sleep and helping Keagan out with her throughout the night and stuff and I knew, I just knew, that you’d figured out the same thing I had the moment I saw that baby for the very first time, with her barely-there ginger hair and big blue eyes. Fuck Jo! It was like getting knocked back to the day mom and dad first brought you home. I knew it was only a matter of time before you went and put all the remaining pieces together and I couldn’t let it happen. I finally had Keagan, and that baby was going to ensure that she would be bound to me forever. Nothing was going to ruin it.”

Luke took a second to process what he said, before she let a bark of sarcastic laughter of her own. “I never clocked anything, you fucking douchecanoe,” she managed between laughs, “How could I? For starters, you destroyed a vast majority of my baby pictures so I had zero to compare her little face to, and you had already had the potion erased from my brain! I had no reason to even fathom the possibility that the baby wasn’t yours, based solely on the fact that I know Keagan well enough, and whatever happened with us aside, that’s not the kind of person she is. What you ‘caught on to’ that day, was just the fact that I loved my new niece more than anything in the world and had made up my mind to finally get my shit together after everything I’d fucked up when mom died and I broke my hand, and just always do anything in my power to keep her happy.”

She fell into another fit of laughter for a bit before finally sighing and looking over at him. “Oh! And, Keagan divorced you in the end anyway, so you really just wasted your money in having my brains scrambled a third time.”

Ricky made a face once more and said, “Yes well, I should’ve know that I was only going to be able to keep up the lie up that JJ killed someone for only so long when his sister is legitimately a secret agent.” 

Luke stopped and looked at him dead in the eye as she incredulously said, “I’m sorry, you did what now?”

Richard rolled his eyes and just waved her off dismissively, but still went on to speak anyway. “Oh it wasn’t that bad, or at least wasn’t meant to be that bad. I mean, it was just supposed to be a prank! JJ and I had gone off on our own one full-moon, we took out a couple of deers, and I came back too before he did. I thought it would be funny to sort of set it up like the deers were actually...uh...you know,” he barely whispered the next part, “a person. And then see what his reaction would be when he woke up.”

“How did this become a years-long lie?”

At this, Luke could swear her brother almost looked remorseful...almost. “Well...you see...what had happened was, when I went to go tell him the truth and get a good laugh in at him, JJ kind of beat me to the punch and said he’d do anything if I helped him get rid of the ‘body’ and keep the secret. At this point I knew it wasn’t real, so I figured I’d push my luck and I asked...well....ahem, I asked if he’d hook me up with his sister....And then everything just snowballed! Like, once I got the first call from Keagan I couldn’t take it back! I had to stick with it! I was too far in! But eventually she learned the truth anyway.”

She fell into another fit of laughter, mostly because she couldn’t believe the kind of man she’d grown up, because there was certainly nothing actually funny about any of this. “Wow, you class A, asshat. Your entire life is just one lie after another.”

Luke wasn’t naive enough to think that her brother would take any of what she’d just said laying down. That wasn’t his style, much less his nature. But to say that she had been wholly unprepared for what he shared next would be an understatement.

“Well, Keagan also learned the truth about Skylar the same day.”

Any residual laughter died as confusion once again set in. “Yeah, see when she came to me with the whole divorce thing, I figured I had nothing to lose, so might as well play all my cards. I figured, if I told her the lengths I was willing to go to in order to keep her, that she would come to appreciate my love for her. Instead she broke my jaw, let out a tirade of curses at me, and then said at least she could rest assured knowing Skylar had zero to do with me. Of course, legally she would remain my daughter because there was no actual way around that, but Keagan has known you’ve been running around calling your own kid your ‘niece’ and she’s been more than okay with it. Wonder why that might be?”

“I’m sure she has her reasons.” The words were spoken with a confidence that Luke wasn’t entirely sure she felt at the moment, but she refused to give Ricky what he was after.

“Oh I’m sure you’re right,” he said, grin back in place, “Like not having to admit that she cheated on me. Or, more specifically, not having to admit that she cheated on me with you. I mean, come on, we both know you’ve been chasing after her like a lost puppy since we were kids. To have to admit that she’s bound to you for life? After going to the extent of marrying me before even remotely considering admitting she liked you??”

He laughed for a good while, and Luke let him go uninterrupted. When he finally regained some semblance of composure, and made it clear he had more to say, Luke made no move to stop him. She watched him heave a sigh and look at her with -what she could only assume he thought was- a look of genuine concern as he asked, “Seriously, Jo?” The nickname made her wince slightly, as it only highlighted just how much like their father Ricky had really come to be. Malcom had always refused to address her by her first name.

Not wanting to waste any more time on yet another disappointing family member, she instead just shook her head and raised an eyebrow pointedly at Ricky as if to say ‘well?’. This seemed to be what he was waiting for as he then grinned once more before continuing.

“You’re playing ‘house’ with a woman and child that legally have my last name. And I say playing because, when you look at the historical evidence, the odds of this leading to your ‘happy ending’ aren’t exactly in your favor, sis.” The redhead continued to look at him with an almost bored look on her face, but still, she prompted, “By all means, please enlighten me with this ‘historical evidence’ that you’re so obviously just dying to share.”

He fixed her with a smirk and said, “Jo, you know me so well. Let’s start off with the fact that you’ve been pining for this woman for 20 years or so, and currently have jack shit to show for it. Because, need I remind you, your little magical oops baby? Well as far as the law and the girl herself are concerned, those go on my tally.” Ricky took in a breath as if prepping for a sermon, and went on, “Second, there’s the fact that whatever happened on that camping trip between you two was nothing but a fluke. I mean, what other women have you known her to have dated or even be interested in? And, even if there have been some after me, wouldn’t that make it worse? Here you are, raising her daughter, being more celibate than a nun at a monastery and she’s off who knows where, doing who knows what, with who knows who. Speaking of raising a child, there’s point three right there: for nine years she was more than content with having my baby, and for another nine she was perfectly okay with letting you continue to care for Skylar under the belief that she was my baby.”

That was the problem with someone like Ricky. He loved the sound of his voice so much, that if given free reign, he would talk for so long that eventually it became almost statistically impossible that he wouldn’t end up saying something that actually had weight and merit. “No counterpoints this time?” he asked. Luke shook her head. “Not looking for an argument.” Ricky then looked at her quizzically as he asked, “Then why let me talk?”

As if on queue, the hospital room door opened in walked in the Sheriff. “I had to buy enough time for Mick and her crew to make their way up from the van where they’ve been listening to you basically confess to all your trespasses,” she replied as he was restrained.

“I would have been perfectly fine with just letting you go back to living your life anywhere but here, if you had only fucked with my memory. But you hurt the people I care about the most, and my heart doesn’t bleed that much.”

Luke watched was her brother escorted out by the Sheriff, struggling the entire time and calling out as he was taken away, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! Merry fucking Christmas!”

[nate-shaw]

when: november 26th & december 17th where: finnegan’s luxor france dorm room & the luxor new zealand campus what: the shaw’s, in all their.....whatever the opposite of glory is

november 26th, luxor france

Nate was sitting in Finnegan’s room, slumped on her couch, his entire attitude dejected, sulking despite his younger sister’s best attempts to convince him otherwise. Family being around was only sure to piss Nate off, even when it wasn’t his own. Though, of course, the rest of the Shaw family - Finny as the sole exception, only managed to make it worse. 

“It wouldn’t kill you to look at least a little less miserable, Nate,” Finnegan said over her shoulder as she was getting ready, knowing that the reprimand wouldn’t work on her other brother, but pushing him about it anyways. 

Finny turned from the mirror at the sound of a knock at the door, both Shaw siblings looking at each other, Nate’s eyebrows wrinkling ever so slightly - Finnegan’s roommate wasn’t there, so it was unlikely it was one of her family members, though it’s not like they were expecting anyone either. Finny was equally confused as she went over to the door, swinging it open, a mirror image of shock on both her and Nate’s faces when they registered who was standing on the other side.

“Finnegan. Nate. Meet Navy,” Liam said, a grin crossing his face, his usual expression of perpetual amusement, both of his younger siblings looking at him with blank faces, not sure what was going on, but knowing - knowing Liam, knowing that expression - there was something he hadn’t dropped yet. He motioned to the tall, lanky brunette girl beside him, who stayed half a step behind him. “She’s our half-sister. Dear old Dad never mentioned it, but…” he shrugged up his shoulders, eyes settling on Nate’s expression. 

“Hi,” Navy said softly, awkwardness brimming through out her entire body as she lifted on hand in a wave, eye darting between Finnegan and Nate, her nerves utterly obvious, even as she tried to shutter down her emotions on her face.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nate said, not getting up from where he was sitting on the couch, his entire posture turning visibly tense as he stared between Liam and Navy. “She’s our age,” he pointed out, like she wasn’t even there, like she wasn’t a part of the conversation. 

“Yeah. Between you and Mel, actually. Meaning he cheated on Mom, but we all knew that anyways, didn’t we?” Liam said in response, his smirk widening. There was always an air of amusement around the eldest Shaw, as if he had no choice but to laugh at the shit they had been through. While Nate responded with resentment and aggression, Liam treated it all like it was one big joke. 

“I had no idea,” Navy said quickly, her expression turning sad underneath the blinds, stepping forward a little bit as she addressed Nate, the girl nearly laughing from the awkwardness. “It’s always been just me and my mother. She never pretended my father was anything but....I mean, a sperm donor, basically.” 

At the girl’s words, Finnegan let out a little noise of sympathy, stepping forward to lightly run a hand over Navy’s arm, warm and comforting in the way only Finnegan could be, a direct contrast to the rest of the Shaw family. “Even if you did, it has nothing to do with you. With any of us. We’re not our parents decisions,” she said lightly, making sure to punctuate the statement with a glare at each of her brother’s, both of them shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of their youngest sibling. Disappointing Finnegan was always different than disappointing someone else, her gentle personality the one thing that hadn’t spoiled in their family. 

“Where the fuck did you find her, Liam?” Nate spit, not even bothering to acknowledge the other girl, the newest Shaw, not able to deal with the emotional aspects of what it entailed. 

“Nate,” Finnegan scolded sharply, glaring at him over her shoulder before wrapping Navy in a hug. “Welcome to the family. Ignore them. They’re always like this,” she said, motioning her chin towards Nate and Liam, motioning for her to come further into the room, wisely not pointing her towards the couch where Nate was getting ready to explode, but instead motioning her towards the stools near their eating counter.

“No fucking way you buy this, Finn,” Nate protested, on his feet before he could stop himself, instantly going toe to toe with Liam. “You miserable piece of shit,” he growled in his brother’s face. 

“I’m not the one who did this, Nathaniel,” Liam said, not backing up from Nate’s menacing approach, letting his younger brother get in his face without so much as a flinch. “That’s all our father.” 

-

december 17th, luxor new zealand

Being in New Zealand only sent Nate into a spiral deeper than his usual disgruntlement, his expression perpetually sour as he stalked around the campus. It was too close to the country he had called home from five to thirteen, the part of the world his father - allegedly - was still lurking in, Nate’s irritation only growing as he continued to stew in it, of course heightened by the unexpected half sister Liam had trotted out at Thanksgiving. Being here was a reminder of those years, those miserable years, their mother having to travel half a world a way to finally be firm with their father, and the four siblings getting pushed to the side through it all. 

He had thought over what he would do to his father, what he would say - if he even bothered speaking before his fist swung for his face - if he ever saw him again, something that was honestly up for debate. The encounter run over in his mind a million different ways, so when he saw his father on campus, he was sure it was just a figment of his imagination. Nate froze, his expression not changing as he blinked a few times, trying to gather his wits about him, utterly surprised. He had never imagined that he would actually see the man, and he was sure that it was someone else, even as the distance between them closed. 

Nate just stood stiffly as his father spread his arms wide, Luke Shaw approaching his youngest son with a grin, Nate’s upper lip curling in a grimace. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Nate growled as a greeting, his shoulders tense as he backed away from the man, barely dodging the hand he tried to clap down on his shoulder. A fatherly gesture, between a normal family, but one that was filled with aggression and intimidation techniques, the Shaw men always fighting for dominance, none of them willing to acquiesce to the others. 

“Heard you were down under,” Luke said, emphasizing his accent - the accent he had given his children - as if he was trying to joke, as he flashed a smirk at Nate. It was a smirk that Nate recognized in his own actions more often than not, a gesture that was all too common for him. The realization hit him immediately, his stomach practically turning at the reminder that this man was half of what had brought him into this world, feeling like turning more and more into him as he went through his life, despite trying to fight it with everything he had, was an inevitability.

Nate’s nostrils flared, his eyes hardening with disgust as he looked at the man in front of him. “From who.” he said, the words not even a question, knowing that they would only illicit one answer from his father, the one answer he didn’t want to hear.

“Your mother, of course. Was hoping she was planning to pay you a visit but since it didn’t seem that was likely, decide to do it on my own,” Luke said casually, like he hadn’t disappeared in and out of Nate’s mother’s life one hundred and one times by this point, screaming fights and physical altercations, disappearances and returning when the family least expected it. 

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck out of her life,” Nate said, the voice low, menacing, clearly a threat - the same threat he had given Luke the last time he had tried to make a reappearance, three years ago. It had sent Nate on a spiral, bad decisions made after the encounter, all of the emotions and pain resurfacing from that summer as he looked at his father. 

“You’re not her guardian, son. You don’t make her decisions.” The words were too blasé as Luke spoke, the reminder perhaps meant to disarm Nate, but instead having the exact opposite affect. 

“Don’t fucking call me your son. I’ve had to act like a guardian. It’s not like either of you ever stepped up for us,” Nate said, shaking his head as his expression fell, finally giving in to showing everything that was going on internally. “Tell me, Dad, did you tell her about the fact that you have another daughter when you were speaking to her recently? Because Liam made sure to share that one.” 

At the accusation, Luke’s mouth fell open slightly, Nate suddenly knowing that moment that he had been utterly aware of Navy, that he had been even less present for her than he had for Nate and his siblings. Though with the type of human that Luke was, perhaps he had been doing Navy a favor. 

Nate swung first. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew it was a bad idea - the man who taught him how to fight, who to his brother how to fight, the two boy’s growing up using each other as punching bags. But he couldn’t help himself. 

He swung first. 

That first collision of his knuckles against his father’s cheekbone brought a sense of relief over him - it was the same reason why he always hit people. A release that he couldn’t find in another way, like he had been holding his breath and finally gotten a chance to exhale. He barely had a chance to bask in it - the moment that usually gave him the chance to start beating his opponent before the fight had even really begun - when his father swung back, an uppercut going straight into Nate’s gut before his other fist made contact with his face. 

It was a fight of people who knew each other’s moves, though it had been years since Luke had taught Nate - Nate had gotten better, and he was able to get the advantage over Luke, especially with the surprise he had by swinging first, but he also made the mistake of trying to back up first. 

And the man who was supposed to be his father showed no mercy. 

As Nate had done to so many people through his years of fighting, he saw the hesitation, the attempt to get out of it, and Luke went for it. He used the advantage that he had, and he took Nate down, his fists doing damage to the young man who he should’ve cared about, that he should’ve been being a role model for. Instead, he was beating the shit out of him. 

By the time he was making his way back towards the dorms, the bruises were already darkening on his face, the knuckles on his right hand swollen and split open, his lip busted with blood caked onto it. He ducked his head, letting his hair fall into his face as he dragged his feet back to his dorm room. It was one thing when the bruises were from a fight he provoked, a fight he won. They were a source of pride. He was standing up to something. He was good at something, even if it was just fighting. 

Bruises from his father? 

They weren’t the same. 

[littlelostbluejay]

Puppy Blues

*I posted this piece as a drabble months ago, but I somewhat revised it as a oneshot. This is part of my collection of oneshots for my muses as part of their official story*

Oneshot summary: Lucas is bemused by his restless thoughts while walking about his neighborhood way past midnight, and unexpectedly stumbles upon a dilemma that leaves him stuck in a bind.

Lucas Face Claim: Luke James

Rating: PG- 13

A cool breeze whisked pass the form of a preoccupied wolf who strolled through the neighborhood, hushed footsteps of his adidas slides walking with an air of silent mediation along the concrete pavement, clad in nothing but a thin, white wife beater that tightly hugged his torso, and down below were black sweatpants where both hands nestled themselves comfortably inside the small space of his pants pockets. The posture he bore was almost downcast, showcases a weary demeanor unusual to observe from a man who always – as far as the public eye and associates was concerned - suffuse merriment in every waking hour, but now a dispirited essence had interweaved through his psyche that constantly claws at his beastly spirit. Lucas’s head stayed low, inky eyes flitting back and forth between the dirty ground and up ahead to find no people within vicinity of him, but his normally sharp and ever sensitive ears drained out whirring engines from vehicles that roamed the shadowed streets, a few which drove in passing with the radio blaring out music through lowered windows, surprisingly doesn’t evoke a response of curiosity within him to wonder which artist sung a particular song.

The sun had hours ago dipped below the horizon, in its place where the glowing orb once hung on a higher plane, a full moon had arisen from another long journey with purpose to pursue the invisible trail of the bright star, illuminating this corner of the earth with its cool, lambency luster only wolves of the night sung praises to in high regard for Luna’s gentle presence when her light graced their earthy land. But artificial lights consumed areas of a large city that partially obstructs the good brilliance of the moons natural luminosity from full exposure, and stars above whose faraway light declares evidence of its uncharted heavenly existence, forever dangles suspended within the infinite dark reaches of the cosmos, their ethereal quality but an unjust stroke of contrast against the manufactured radiance fainting out the visible celestial bodies that seems to disappear from view, as if the darkness in space swallowed them whole. But traces of weak twinkles, however, could faintly be seen from a distance when Lucas, always an inquisitive soul, focused his sights up above for a brief moment to take in their holiness.

The stars were beautiful, he believed, a long breath audibly exhales at the feel of the omnipotent energy of the moon absorb into the earthy brown pores of his skin from its light he basks in. ‘Gorgeous.’ The thought echo’s in his mind, though the lit city of New York tries to suffocate their grandeur magnificence.

Lucas had decided to take a midnight stroll in what he considered his territory, he couldn’t yield to the dark embrace of sleep due to restless thoughts about his future that swarmed his mind while lying in the comforts of bed, but it seemed like those thoughts had followed and latched onto his shadow that couldn’t be shaken. A series of reflections consumed his thinking during that time and now, many of which left him wondering about how long he’d be alone without a mate; he wasn’t getting much younger – not that he had to worry about that due to his slow aging- the natural instinct to find a mate, pass on his seed, and bear pups of his own to carry on his dire wolf legacy was a desire his species around his age group undergone. But the time when these sexual urges came upon them depended on each individual when testosterone hormones levels shot through the roof, particularly when sexual maturity was in full blossom that was often witnessed in males.

A tired hand emerges from his pocket to rub down the length of his face, scruffy strands of his beard compressed against his palm once he reached his chin as eyes shut momentarily to escape the physical world before him, allows his imaginations to wander off in a different direction. Visions of people crossed his mind, disoriented faces of females he knew or saw on the regular basis that could be a potential suitor of his attentions and admiration, woman he’s seen at the club he performs at every week, including familiar faces that stops by to listen to him sing as well as play instruments on the street. Some were lovely, easy on the eyes to gaze upon while others had a visage only a mother could love, he’ll admit. But his nose wrinkles in displeasure, unfortunately, as he shakes his head for who all sprung up inside his mind because many weren’t to his liking. Even the ones who expressed interest in him at the club, sometimes overstepping boundaries of personal space to force his attention on them was an annoyance than seen as attractive.

Just because he was desperate for a mate didn’t mean he’d go sniff anyone’s behind who lifted their tail in his direction.

In aggravation does his jaw shift as it becomes tensed under pressure when teeth grind together, hand shoving its way back roughly into his pocket, inwardly frustrated that not a person he knew was well suited to be his mate who wouldn’t have an issue with his wolf secret. An itch of impatience had begun to surface after years of waiting and searching. There was, however, a vision of a girl who floated across the landscape of his mental fancy, one Lucas had seen from afar while engaged in street performances recently. Her sudden arrival prompts the beat of his heart to palpitate for a split second, strong enough to stop him in his tracks as if he had an epiphany on the sidewalk as she stood transfixed in his mind.

Lucas was a stranger to her name, had yet to interact with her because every time he finished a musical session he’ll glimpse in the direction of where she usually sat on a bench while watching his band perform, only to see the seat empty, leaves the block without a simple hello unlike other pedestrians who would offer words of praise for his skills. But the week after she seemed to make it a priority to watch him and his band play again. His head tilts at an angle to the right, full lips pursed as he ponders over unknown reasons why she never introduced herself to him. ‘Is she shy?’ he mused thoughtfully with a blink of his eyes, stare set on nothing but the vacant space of the clear night sky.

Either way, the young woman who wore a head full of curls and snuck shy glances might have piqued his interest; maybe his wolf spirit saw something in her he did not realize on the physical plane by only a few playful, flirty stares he shot towards her way. And even so, until then, he needed a distraction to keep these restless thoughts at bay.

A deep breath fills his lungs before a dreary sigh left his lips, and with his head now somewhat clear, curious eyes takes this moment to observe his modern environment. On his right is where a dimly-lit parking lot met his view from his place on the sidewalk, the lanes empty of cars a clear indicator that the thrift shop behind him was closed like the many other stores he passed by. And his supernatural cognizant increases when sensitive ears become mindful to the voices of people in range across the street, reminds him that life still flourished in this quiet portion of the district he lived in, a few silent cars continuing their prowl on the road as wheels only decreases speed to a halt, yielding before the red traffic light up ahead.

“I guess s’time head on back.” Words fell between Lucas’s lips like a murmur as he scratched the back of his neck, speaking aloud to no one as he mulled over whether he should follow his steps back to his apartment or continue walking. But while in the process of deciding, feet lead him towards a donation box bin nearby to lean his body against for support, muscles more relaxed than before that once held tension. And just then, a small squeak breaks through his consciousness, and ears perks to full attention as his head swivel in different directions to locate the source of the sound. He envisions the culprit to be a rodent, but when he hears the same squeak morph into a whimper he realizes that option was out of the question, prompts him to quickly stand to his full height to search for the tiny sound.

Again, it penetrates his ears on repeat like a broken record player, and he circles around to stare at the bin he was resting on seconds ago, perceives the noises that mimics weak cries and low whimpers to originate from the interior of the medium size container. “The hell? Is that a dog?” A thick dark brow arched considerably high as he questioned himself with an expression of pure bewilderment, although, utterly taken aback as the belief sunk into his mind that the mystery creature was a canine who was dumped into a metal donation box, one created specifically for people to contribute clothes and footwear, as a white poster plastered on the bin claims in printed writing. The beat of his heart escalates where adrenaline pumps through his veins as he drew close to the container, an anxious hand pulling down on the small door latch that opens horizontally for clothes to fit through, which leaves him unable to peer down into the small space. And the sudden movement causes the animal to intensify its voice with squeaky cries of help that echoes inside, evokes a new resolve within Lucas to free the dog himself.

“Don’ worry youngling, I’ll get ya outta there.” He mumbled to himself, anger steadily boiling in his gut that someone was foolish enough to abandon an animal in the most ridiculous ways imaginable. Lucas looks for the true opening, and in no time does he find a padlock keeping the door shut. In his large palm he examines the metallic object, sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he acknowledges a key is required, and grips, tugs on the lock loosely to test its durability. Sensible paranoia compels him to take a quick glimpse around the surrounding area to ascertain nobody was watching this occurrence unfold; he waits for a car to drive by, and once he’s assured he was alone, one hand rests atop the bin while the other clutches the padlock, and teeth grits tight as the strong muscles in his bicep bulges when he jerks hard on the body of it. A loud clink met his ears in an instant when the loop-shaped shackle unlatches forcibly from the locking mechanism inside the metal body, breaking internal components that once held it secure.

The lock now broken in his grasp, he tosses it aside onto the pavement without a second glance before prying the door wide open, unprepared to see a multitude of old clothes and shoes pour out onto the ground at his feet, including some plastic bags filled with garments. Keen eyesight detects movement immediately as he notices a tiny bump shuffling underneath the apparel, and knees touch the ground once he crouched down while frantic hands unravel the animal wrapped amongst the garb. To his surprise, a mere puppy is revealed, one small in stature with eyes sealed closed whom limbs were fragile as a newborn, its face scrunched up that evidently showcases distress as the pup wiggles in vain while whimpering. Unspoken shock is conveyed in the way onyx eyes grew wide as Lucas took in the pitiful sight before him, causes his heart to plummet as he reaches both hands downward to pick it up, mouth parted open at the feel of its tiny body that dwarfs in comparison to the size of his palm.

In the beginning, Lucas was aware the animal was a domesticated dog, but the possibility never dawn upon him that it could be a newborn puppy, judging by the weight and size he concludes it was no older than one or two weeks old. And the reality of it shook him to his core to the point where breath was swept out of his lungs as he observes the little creature squirm in his tender hold, tiny jowl opens and close as it continues expressing its lament through whiny cries. But after a moment, the pup grows quiet, but a relief of breath was released when the young pup nuzzles its red nose into his palm, his heart softening as he feels its warm tongue brush said palm as it licks him, as if it recognized the warmth of another soul, sensing it was no longer alone. Lucas takes this calm moment to adjust the pup in his hold and lift it up above his head to check its gender, realizing it to be a female, and gives a quick whiff of her scent drifts up his nostrils when he drew her close to his face to become accustomed to her smell. He summarizes she belonged to the lines of the Pitbull family, her coat a beautiful light fawn adorned with white markings.

“Aye now, who did this t’ya, huh?” Soft, gentle words were cooed beside her ear, hoping his voice would sustain her stilled demeanor as he pets the light brown fur of her spine. A kind grin dances about plump lips that quirks up subtle at a corner, peers down at her in silent fascination as he watches her offer a cute mewl while her body reacts to his touch, seemingly at peace by the strokes he administers. The tender moment is short-lived, though, as he sees her jaw open to utter another cry, causes his eyebrows to curl up with a look of newfound worry. “Hey shhhh…its alright kid.” He shushes her in the manner of a whisper. It suddenly occurs to Lucas that she was probably starving, and by the look of her pintsized frame, appeared to still be in the stage of suckling her mother’s milk. The thought slapped Lucas in the face; where in the world was he going to find milk at this late hour?! The only place he could think of buying formula was from the nearby pet shop, but at this time past midnight it was no doubt closed for the night.

This fresh piece of actualization impels lips to press together, forms a fine line, eyes screwing shut as that familiar surge of indignation ran hot through him, muscles trembling from tension that frustration inspired as the unfortunate authenticity of this situation he involved oneself without hesitation crashes down onto him like a tidal wave, humbly acknowledges how time would dictate when the soul of this creature is to be ensnared by the touch of death. “Dammit.” He swore under his breath, aware a pup her age would die soon if milk wasn’t available; these early stages in her life were crucial where nourishment was the fundamental key to her survival – that being for any newborn brought into this world. Her back is engulfed by his hands when Lucas kindly presses her small form against his chest for a comforting embrace, a throbbing ache residing in the cage of his ribs that travels upward to the walls of his throat as he feels a stroke of hopelessness sink in. There was little he could do to prolong her life…any realist would believe…but as an optimist…he wouldn’t…couldn’t surrender to this tragic fate set out for her.

Lucas wouldn’t allow it. All creatures deserved a chance at life.

Despite the bestial impulses his wolf nature evokes, Lucas had always gravitated toward the less fortunate, extended mercy and care upon those incapacitated who were in dire need of aid he generously renders service; it undermines the classification that unjustly labels all werewolves as beasts who prey on the weak, and to possess this virtuous mindset could be regarded as peculiar in the eyes of modern wolves of this time in age.

But as a new goal flashes within his mind-eye, he rises to his feet as he kept her against his bosom, and without time to waste he whirls around to journey back from whence he came, legs execute long strides across the pavement as he strode back to his apartment in a rush, leaving the busted donation box wide open and accessible clothing now vulnerable to theft in his haste. Unexpected, long-term responsibilities to come regarding the care of a puppy weren’t considered in a senseless state of mind, patience was not on his side to excogitate the way he’d like, but motivated with gracious intentions to deliver her to salvation anyway possible was fueled by a paternal instinct he longed to indulge in – an instinctive motive to nurture this helpless pup who would be dependent on him.

All in all, this case was a distraction she’ll provide as a means to suppress the burning desire to establish a pack of his own…temporarily.

[whatthejax]

{ a fresh start }

TW: drugs

Jax was pissed.

Pissed, yet pretty grateful that his band members had forgotten to search him before he got into the car, giving him the chance to get high as fuck off of the remaining cocaine he’d had stashed in his shoe. Dumping the excess in the toilet, he’d slammed the fucking door and grabbed his bags before hopping in the backseat of the car… only to immediately be met with a lecture that would undoubtedly try to kill his high.

“So Jax, I don’t expect you to be leaving any time soon. You hear me?” Their manager–Wayne’s–voice echoed loudly in the passenger’s seat and Jax couldn’t help but scoff. Wayne was an older guy who claimed to only ever look out for the guys in the group, but Jax would bet his life’s money (which wasn’t a lot in the first place) that Wayne was only ‘looking out’ for them just for the profit. “I’m serious, kid. Pulling a knife out in a bar is not okay. We’ve been letting you off the hook as best we could–we know you haven’t had the easiest life, and that’s okay. But this is a fresh start for you. I expect you to take it seriously.”

“Yeah, sure, Boss. Whatever you say.” But Jackson Trudeau had already zoned out. He wasn’t even taking his manager seriously, he sure as hell wasn’t going to take this attempt at rehab seriously. Of course, maybe if there were some hot chicks to fuck, and if someone had managed to sneak in some coke that he could score, maybe he could make it worth his time. But was he looking to get better? The way he saw it, there was nothing to fix.

A sudden tap on his shoulder snapped him out of it, though, and he turned to face Luke, the lead singer of his bandmate and closest only friend. “What’s up, dude?” Jax shot out defensively, eyes dazed over.

Luke cared more than Wayne did, that much was undeniable, and it was obvious in the way his bandmate merely stared at Jax. “Man, if you don’t take this seriously you’re out of the band. And you know we don’t want that for you. I don’t want that for you.”

And just like that, Jax’s high was gone. Sure, they must’ve told him that about a million times, but Luke saying it made the reality set in much harder. “Yeah, I know.” He swallowed hard and looked out the window, keeping his mouth shut for the duration of the drive.

Upon arrival to Brielle, Luke was the only one who got out of the car with Jax, which only seemed to solidify what he’d been thinking: Luke was the only one who truly cared whether or not Jax had a safe place to stay. Of course, why should anyone else care? It wasn’t like Jax was necessarily a nice person. He wasn’t a gentleman, he didn’t hold doors open for women or help the elderly cross the road. He was selfish and impatient and rude. He didn’t deserve Luke’s kindness–Hell, he didn’t even deserve Wayne’s kindness.

The hospital itself was much larger than Jax had expected it to be. “You gonna be okay, man?” Luke asked, his brown eyes shining with concern. Jax merely smirked and nodded. “Fuck yeah, I’ll be alright. But you better come visit me.” Relieved, and obviously uncomfortable and out of his element, Luke nodded eagerly and gave Jax a full hug before getting back in the car, but not before promising to visit and call every week.

Standing there, broken and empty and alone, Jax was hit with a sudden, gut-punching realization: he wouldn’t be getting any calls. He wouldn’t be getting any visits. He was alone once again, only this time it was up to him to fix what he’d messed up.

[kovnynir]

tag dump !! – luke

* luke : photos.

* luke : scrapbook.

* luke : musings.

* luke : headcanons.

* luke : threads.

* luke : ask memes.

* luke : open.

* luke : closed.

* luke : intro.

* luke : task.

* luke : event.

* luke : self para.

[lucas-jackson]

It was a dream. A dream Luke had plenty before, one that had morphed with more clarity after the men he’d killed. It was familiar, the surge of blinding rage the sting against his knuckles. On bad nights he was in the water too, but he was given that relief this time. The anger was there, the lack of control, the way it all worked to dull the pain he aware of at the very back of his brain. Vampires, he remembered. One who beat him. And then there had been Ronan. He had to force himself awake. His whole body felt tired and heavy as he worked to force his eyes open. Blinking hard it became obvious he wasn’t in bed, his room in disarray. There was still blood on his hands, sticky and warm. Worse, there was the body beside him on the ground, battered beyond recognition. No. No. NO. Luke lashed out. I had to still be a dream only he felt the chair he hit crumble under his fist, far too solid and real. Bile rose in his throat as he looked at the body again. He couldn’t remember what he’d done as he stumbled to his feet. He had to find his dad, Ellery, someone. Goddess he didn’t even know who it was. He couldn’t have- He had to get out of there.