#ultesc

[luminarot]

@ultesc suddenly feels around the bed to search for Patrick's hand when they’re sleeping.

He doesn’t sleep very well these days. To tell the truth, he barely sleeps at all; it’s too easy to fall into a bad dream, to a world where they didn’t make it, where he’s still trapped in that god-awful basement, where he’s free but Julie isn’t and her dead eyes haunt the dawn. Sometimes, when he starts to drift, he can’t tell what’s real at all — so he stays up for hours just staring at the ceiling, listening to Julie breathe beside him. ( In, out, in, out. A steady, shaking thing. )

He memorizes the rhythm; he listens for her heartbeat, and tries to match his own in the chasm between, in the tangled space of rumpled sheets and a few bare inches that feel like a mile. When she shifts, he hears the hitch in her breath before he feels the movement, a minor hiccup that stalls meditation in a wash of panic. At the same moment she reaches out, he turns to her: in dim light, two lost souls reach across the void for their anchor, the only soft place left to land.

"I'm right here," Patrick murmurs, and his hushed voice sounds so loud in the quiet night. With fingers intertwined, he still shifts closer until he can place a kiss to her crown. "You with me, sunshine?"

[publicabsent]

@ultesc: intimacy - muse a ( julie ) braids/brushes/works knots out of muse b’s hair. / accepting.

annette never really had a lot of friends. & she's definitely never had any sisters. (to be honest, she's a little afraid of other girls. the polite-but-not way some of them have, or the looks they give -- too much like her mother.) but this new frontier isn't as unwelcome as it may seem: after all, she sits very still as julie works through the wild thicket of curls that sits atop annette's head. it's soothing, really. she's always had to do these sorts of things herself. granted, her hair used to be much longer, but circumstances have altered that fact. it had to be chopped short after her escape with the group, the knots too matted to be undone. she'd cried, sure; it was something small to comprehend after some strangers saved her life.

the frail brunette draws one knee up to her chest, eyes half-closed. "um ... n-n -- nob-bod-dy's ev - ver ... um. d-d-don-ne th - this f'r me b'fore. ... th - than-nks."

[nuks]

❛ nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time! ❜ @ viva ✉️ meme prompts: accepting ! ⋆.˚

          ❛❛   Aww... C'monnn...   ❜❜     She pouts, trying to muster her most pathetic, pleading expression- maximum puppy dog eyes. It helps that her eyes are so big normally, now, she just has to bat her lashes.     ❛❛   I know you're not gonna eat it.   ❜❜     She admonishes, smirking as she glances at the creamsicle in Julie's hand. Viva's already finished hers; it lasted for about a minute. She gets hungry after she skates! Plus, it's been such a hot day... Viva bats her lashes, making a whimpering sound as she leans in closer, perfectly mimicking a cute, begging dog. One that's hellbent on snatching the other popsicle.      ❛❛   Pleeeease?   ❜❜ @ultesc

[strnza]

"lift  up  your  hair,  baby  -  your  shoulders  are  startin'  to  burn."  the  request  is  gentle  but  commanding  as  eliza  leans  forward  in  her  dinky,  little  lawn  chair,  squeezing  some  coconut-scented  sunblock  into  her  palm  and  smearing  it  all  over  julie's  shoulders.

they're  planted  on  a  half-dead,  half-green  patch  of  grass  outside  eliza's  back  door,  the  farm  of  misfit  animals  that  eliza  calls  her  own  all  milling  around  &  relaxing  in  the  sun  along  with  the  two  women.  only  when  eliza  is  satisfied  with  the  newly-applied  lotion  to  julie's  shoulders  does  she  rub  the  nape  of  her  neck,  signaling  that  she  may  return  to  sunbathing  as  before.

"you  gotta  help  me  come  up  with  a  set  list  for  tomorrow,"  eliza  whines,  flopping  back  into  her  own  chair  &  resting  her  ankles  over  julie's  calf,  "booker  says  i  need  peppy  shit."

*    /    @ultesc  🤍

[luminarot]

@ultesc said: “It’s getting crowded. Here, hold my hand.”

Colored lights cast the room in hazy hues not unlike the ones Patrick likes to live in, floating through some stranger's house with an easy grin and a joint in his pocket. Lazy Texas heat has left his shirt loose a few extra buttons, sweat sticking the patterned fabric to his back even with the cool blessings of indoor air conditioning — but it hasn't stopped him yet, lingering close to Julie as some new crowd drifts on by, bumping shoulders as he offers the drink he's nabbed her from the kitchen. Even a seasoned veteran could use a drink in this heat.

Really, the party's only just getting started; there's still pleasant fuzz humming out of the cabinet in the corner, an intermission between each vinyl's switch, a chance to rest and call out requests when he's not laughing with Julie or trying to dance. They hadn't arrived early by any means, but the sudden influx of people marks a noticeable shift in the night's activity. ( After all, every evening’s promise needs a beginning. )

There's also some promise in an outstretched hand, which Patrick takes without hesitation. Julie barely even has to ask before he's weaving calloused fingers in hers. "There. Now you won't lose me," he says, grinning all the while. His head tips to the side, warm hues shining in a teasing glint as he leans in to ask the age-old question: "What's the game plan, California?"