valleyxrose

[valleyxrose]

You’ve grown into someone who would have protected you as a child. And that is the most powerful move you made.

[valleyxrose]

Valley was never sure she believed in things like fate or karma, but then an elevator would halt to an angry stop and trap her the second she was honest with a stranger. Whether the universe wanted her to stop talking or tell him more, she wasn't sure. She had been rather interested in what he was about to say before the crash, although she couldn't remember now what they'd even been talking about.

Her hands shook, and her breath shook, and she tried to steady both. He asked if she was alright - she didn't even know his name. Although she was still shaking, she nodded. "Yeah, are you? I kind of tackled you, there," she blushed.

She listened as he spoke, and knew he was right. This would be a top priority for emergency workers. They wouldn't be stuck here forever. But it was the not knowing that was getting to her. Not knowing how long it would take, not knowing whether the elevator was about to snap a cord and crash into the basement, not knowing whether this man - although he seemed very nice - was a safe person to be stuck in such a small space with.

"I'm... Valletta," she said, figuring getting to know him was pretty much the only thing she could do right now. "What's your name?"

“Were you?” he asked, pleasantly amused. There were times where he could see how his children got into all the altercations they got into every single day, but then there were others - this instant for example - where he truly wondered what went through their minds. Just how reckless and indestructible did they actually believe themselves to be. Leandro was genuinely curious. Whenever he asked his sweet Diego about it the little man simply shrugged and laughed as if it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. The memory made him smile.  He had never been an active child though. Growing up from foster to foster home many of the other children around him clung onto one another and played endlessly, but Lea had never cared to join in. He found things to do on his own, finding solace in the quiet whenever he could get it. Living with children had always been loud - even now he could attest - and his younger self wanted nothing to do with them. Instead he read books on insects and animals, and collected creatures from the yard to try and raise them himself. It never really worked, he was uneducated and had no money with which to buy proper enclosures, but he was entertained.  “I’m afraid I was the complete opposite during my you-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence when the elevator halted, pushing them into one another. In an attempt to keep both of them off the ground, Leandro let his body fall back onto the wall of the elevator for support. “Are you quite alright?” he asked her first, ensuring that there were no injuries before he assessed the rest of their dilemma. His eyes flashed over her before he glanced at the elevator panel as if waiting for someone to speak to them through there. “We shouldn’t be in here too long,” Lea did his best to reassure, “Of all places to be stuck in an elevator I think the hospital is our best bet. These places usually take emergency priority whenever something faulty happens.

[valleyxrose]

Valley sat on the verge of drunkenness, one elbow on the bar, head in her hand. She spent her days desperately trying not to look as tired and depressed as she felt, but she'd found tonight that it was a pretty good shield against men coming up to hit on her. She had to buy her own drinks this way, but she didn't have to talk to anybody but the bartender, so it was a win overall.

She sat up and held up the glass of whiskey in her hand, wondering if she should finish it, or just go home (if one could call a hotel suite home), but then she felt something chillingly familiar that made her almost drop her glass.

She couldn't tell you how she felt it, exactly. But it was an instinct a person developed after living with an angry man. You could detect them, even in a room this full and loud, even if you couldn't hear him clearly. A tone of voice, a posture, something cut through the loud and the full and the drunk, and Valley's head snapped around.

It was Damian. She'd met him exactly once, at the farmer's market in the summer, and seen him around briefly a few times since, but she remembered him. The anger wasn't coming from him, it was directed toward him, and some instinctual protectiveness got her up out of her seat.

Brows furrowed, she walked in a surprisingly straight line, slowly toward Damian and the tall angry man he seemed to be teasing. She couldn't hear them clearly yet, but both of them seemed to be asking for something. Both seemed to be saying just give me one reason. There was a look in Damian's eyes - behind the smirk, a hidden layer - that Valley recognized but couldn't name.

She didn't go over yet, unsure if she needed to. But she stood, just out of their eyeline, watching.

STATUS: closed for @valleyxrose LOCATION: pick a bar, any bar

The bar is packed tonight, a sea of bodies moving to a rhythm Damian barely registers. He’s in his own head, humming with the warmth of cheap whiskey, feeling pleasantly detached from everything he’s been running from. He’s weaving through the crowd, headed back to his spot at the counter, when he feels his shoulder knock hard into someone solid. The force nearly sends him stumbling back, but he catches himself, glancing up with a lopsided grin.

The guy he’s bumped into doesn’t look amused. He’s a tall, broad-shouldered man with a glare that could probably cut steel, and he’s already halfway through muttering something under his breath that sounds like trouble. Damian can feel the anger radiating off him, sees the way his fists clench by his sides. But instead of backing down, Damian just flashes a lazy smile, half-squinting at the guy with cheerful indifference.

“My bad, man,” he says, voice light and unbothered. “Didn’t see you there.” His tone is almost too casual, like he’s talking to an old friend rather than a guy who looks one more shove away from starting a fight.

The guy scowls, stepping closer, towering over him. “Watch where you’re going next time,” he growls, eyes narrowing, fists clenched like he’s waiting for Damian to make a wrong move.

Damian just laughs softly, swaying slightly on his feet, still smiling like he hasn’t got a care in the world. “Hey, c’mon now, no harm done, right?” he says, unbothered by the guy’s looming presence. His smile doesn’t waver, even as he watches the guy’s face twist with irritation. There’s something almost amusing about it, the way this stranger is puffing up, clearly looking for any excuse to swing, like he’s spoiling for a fight. Damian can see it in the tension around the man’s jaw, the way his hand flexes at his side.

“Seriously, man, chill,” Damian slurs the words, chuckling as he raises his hands, palms up in mock surrender. “It’s a crowded bar, you're a big dude — probably happens all the time.”

But his calm seems to only stoke the guy’s anger further, his eyes narrowing as he steps even closer, his chest puffed out. Damian’s grin only widens, like he’s oblivious to the threat. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“Got a smart mouth, huh?” the guy sneers, his voice low, biting.

He feels his jaw twitch at the words. Smart mouth. Jason loves using that one. “Guess so.” Damian’s smile tenses slightly, body swaying a little on his feet but not backing down, even as he watches the guy’s fist clench. It’s clear the stranger’s on the verge of throwing a punch, his expression darkening with each passing second, his shoulders squaring as if he’s just waiting for the right moment to snap. 

[valleyxrose]

"Sylvia," Valley repeated with a smile, "that's a beautiful name. And your eyes light up when you talk about her. Five years is so long..."

Five years probably wasn't that long to most people, but it was longer than Valley had ever been married. She and Murph had almost made it to five years... almost.

"What's your secret?"

"see," jia exclaimed accusingly. valletta had just proved what jia had felt all along. "i'm not making it up ! but fine, i'll bite. i'll let you buy me lunch." jia quietly thought that the fancy shoes valley was wearing proved that she could afford it. "a platonic, new friend lunch." they both arrived to the restaurant in high spirits. jia sent a quick text to sylvia, letting her know she wouldn't be home until after lunch. "her name is sylvia," jia replied as she slid into her chair, eager as always to talk about her. "she works as an editor at the blue news. we've been married for a little over five years."

[valleyxrose]

Valley loved the park in the mornings, even if the cold bit at her cheeks and stiffened her fingers. She liked to watch the dogs. She was looking for one in particular (and the man on the other end of the leash) but she wouldn't say that. She was trying to give him space.

"The trick is to find a really chic-looking pair of leather gloves, lined with something lovely like cashmere, and then you'll want to wear them all year. But holding onto coffee works too," she smiled.

She was sure her smile visibly faltered with his comment on questioning the choices that brought them here, but she sipped her own coffee and ignored it as always.

"I think my preparation is just five years in San Francisco. It never gets particularly cold there, but never hot either. Just a slight chill in the air all year round. Definitely teaches you about layering and where to get scarves and hats that don't make you look like a toddler in one of those snowsuits that makes them all wobbly," she laughed. "But that being said... if you do migrate south, please bring me with you."

at a coffee cart in the park with anyone! ( open )

Theo accepted the steaming cup of coffee from the barista with a murmured thanks, then turned his attention to the person who’d commented on the cold. His grin was immediate, teasing. “Oh, it’s definitely winter’s opening act. You can tell because everyone’s still pretending they don’t need gloves. Including me.” He raised the paper cup like a shield, his fingers already pink from the chill. “But come January, we’ll all be bundled up like mummies, questioning every life choice that brought us to Illinois.” He paused, his grin softening into a curious tilt of his head. “You must be better prepared than me, though. What’s your secret? Layers? Thermal socks? Some ancient ritual you’d be willing to share? I'm not a creature of the cold. I'm meant to migrate South, like birds do.”

[valleyxrose]

The Unequal Marriage (circa 1862)

— by Vasili Pukirev

[valleyxrose]

Rory was so steady. Just meeting his eyes had the effect of a weighted blanket on a person's nerves. He calmed you, kept you still, and made you feel safe even when you were saying things you'd never told a single soul before. "After Arthur passed, I would have thought the last good man had left the world, if I hadn't already met you."

She watched the serenity in his eyes darken, and could tell he remembered who came next in the lineup. Rory and Eliza knew Mitchell less well than the other husbands, on account of the fact that he'd hated them.

"I rushed into things with Mitchell," she said. Understatement of the century. "I... rushed into things with everyone, of course, but I really didn't think things through with him. Arthur's passing had broken my heart, and his existence had made me dangerously optimistic about the world,and men, and... I thought everything would be fine. I thought I'd found someone who wanted to take care of me, you know? He was so powerful, and so smart, and I really believed he had my best interests in mind. And so I listened when he gave me advice. ...But then the advice turned into demands, and the demands turned into threats, and we were already married before I realized how trapped and scared and isolated I was. He wasn't taking care of me; he didn't care at all. He just wanted someone to control, and if I tried to do anything he didn't approve of, he would..."

She trailed off. It was getting easier to speak the truth the more she did it, but some words remained stuck in her throat, refusing to be formed.

"Anyway. I'm sure you noticed I was a different person by the time I got out of that marriage. I was so angry. I wanted to burn the world down. I wanted to make damn sure no man would ever control me like that again. I went looking for the most arrogant trust fund asshole I could find, fully intending to drain his bank account and ruin his life and make him wish he never met me, which... I think I was successful in doing, because that's when I met George."

Rory listens to every word without shifting his gaze from her, taking it all in quiet contemplation. His thumb smooths a slow, reassuring circle over the back of her wrist as he lets the silence between them settle, never rushing her, just holding the space for her like he’s always done. Eliza had always been the one to rush into advice, providing running commentary between breaths like the thoughts raced to make it past her lips before her manners could make sense of them; and though he loved her for it, much like he loved her for everything, Rory doesn’t necessarily believe that’s what Valley needs right now.

When she mentions Arthur, Rory allows a small smile of his own, imagining her younger self in that unlikely pairing. He remembers that time too — remembers how folks raised their brows or muttered behind their hands, but more clearly he remembers how Valley didn’t seem to care, how she carried herself with that unique blend of resilience and charm. Reminiscent, even, of Eliza after she’d been disowned — head held high, nothing to fear, nothing to be ashamed of. And he’d understood then, as he does now, that there was more to Valley’s choices than anyone else would ever see. He’d understood then, as he does now, that it had never been his business to ask after said choices, despite his curiosity.   

Rory’s eyes soften as he meets her gaze, a steady anchor for the storm of memories and half-explained truths she’s working through. “It was never my place to question your choices,” he says quietly. “Always figured you had your reasons.” He takes a slow breath, keeping his tone low and free of any accusation. “Still do, really.” He thinks of Mitchell, then, and how stark of a contrast he’d been after Arthur. Ellie’s constant worried nights, when Valley wouldn’t return her calls or her texts. The rare occasions they’d see her in person, how subdued she’d become. The helplessness, weighing both him and Ellie down, unable to get through to their friend. The memories spread like wildfire through his veins, but he doesn’t push it — lets Valley take this at her own pace.

[valleyxrose]

There was a time (an entire four and a half years of time) when Valley and Murph were always touching. His hand on her thigh, hers in his hair; there was rarely a thirty-second span in which they weren't trying to find out how close two people could possibly get to each other. As though they were constantly checking to see if the other was real.

But that, like everything else, had been extinguished quickly and thoroughly. He could barely look at her after he found out she'd lied to him, and she strongly remembered each of the three times he'd touched her since. A shrug away, an accidental graze, an awkward handshake, and then cold endless nothing for months.

Until now. It was just a hand on her shoulder, barely more than the accidental graze, but it was him, and it was her, and it was them.

And it electrified her.

And, she thought as she turned back around, it stopped her from leaving. Which wasn't exactly a difficult task - if he'd so much as breathed the right way, she would have turned around. But for him, from him, it was a monumental move. He hadn't stopped her from leaving before.

So despite her better judgment (blame the alcohol or the love or both for the impairment there), there was hope in her eyes when she turned around. He ran a hand that she wished was hers through his hair, and said they could be adults about this. She nodded, still staring at him as though transfixed, still feeling a sting on her shoulder as though she'd been burnt.

Eventually, she snapped herself out of it and looked down, pursing her lips and gathering her thoughts. "Yes. Adults," she repeated. "We can both be in the same place together. The same... rave, together. Forgive me for not expecting you to be here," she said, smirking slightly up at him.

He said she looked nice, and she wanted to respond in an equally coy manner. Unfortunately, the agreement she'd made with herself to never lie to him again got in the way of that. The alcohol could probably be blamed too, because what she said was, "You look incredible."

Maybe it was the way she was looking at him, or the fact that they had to be almost uncomfortably close to each other in order to hear over the music, or the fact that he was in the wrong colour suspenders, but at that moment, a group of drunk girls dancing past stopped and looked at the pair of them and said "Oh my god, are you guys Jack and Rose from Titanic?! That's so cute!"

They squealed and danced away, and Valley's cheeks were as red as her dress. She decided to take a sip of her cocktail instead of speaking (or laughing) in response.

Surely, he had to have seen this coming. After their run-in at the park, Valley had been circling his mind like a clogged drain, refusing to sink. Instead, she'd sailed into every face he passed, every hint of perfume he smelled, every voice he heard. Moving on had felt an insurmountable task back in San Francisco, surrounded by their life and all of the traditions and habits and love they'd created together. It had been the reason he'd even agreed to this relocation at all. But any progress he had made had been undone the moment he'd seen her again, his heart still yearning for an illusion while it took corporeal form right in front of him. Forbidden even as she was close enough to touch.

And here she was again, looking stunning in a gown that didn't belong in a place like this while somehow looking like she was exactly where she belonged. His breath caught and seized in his chest as their eyes locked, both seemingly paralyzed to it. He tried to read her, the way he used to— or the way he thought he used to?— but between the loss of the confidence in that truth of them and the flashing lights of a dark club, he didn't know what she was thinking.

All those thousands of unanswered questions rushed back, roaring between his ears and drowning out everything that wasn't him and her and the space that separated them. Maybe if he just stood there, the moment would last forever. This in-between where he could still pretend that this was a look across the room at a party back in California, the kind of silent conversation that could only exist between people that really knew each other.

Those were the kinds of memories that fucked him up the most. Because how could both things be true? How could he have known her down to the very essence of her soul when he didn't truly know her at all?

But the moment, like all the moments before it, didn't suspend them in the in-between where everything was as true as it wasn't. Valley turned to leave and he knew he should let her go. But the sudden sinking in his stomach had him reaching out, hand on her shoulder which he dropped almost immediately back to his side. Don't leave, his heart pounded out like Morse code in his chest. Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave. He'd reacted without thought, without a plan, and now he wasn't sure what to do. "Sorry, I don't... uh." He scored a hand through his hair. "You don't have to do that, you know. We both live here, we can be adults about this." He swallowed, his throat feeling tight. "You, uh. You look," lethally beautiful, "nice."

[valleyxrose]

Emilia Clarke

[valleyxrose]

“Nearly all of our faults are more forgivable than the means we use to hide them.”

— François de La Rochefoucauld, Moral Reflections

[valleyxrose]

birthday gift for @rorysanderson

beautifully wrapped coffee maker with a card that says:

For Rory

you deserve the best of everything. we'll start with coffee. love you,

-Valley

[valleyxrose]

I don't - he said.

I'm not - he said.

He didn't have to finish the sentences; she heard them clearly:

I don't want you to think that I came here to find you.

I'm not in Blue Harbor for you.

He lives here. Independently of her, completely separately from her, he’d come to this tiny Midwestern town to start a new life. The hopeful romantic part of Valley's heart leapt at the thought of the red strings of fate leading them together again like this. But the painfully realistic part reminded her (loudly, cruelly) that he wanted a new life without her. That he was looking at her now as though he'd seen a ghost, and not a woman he still loved.

What was left of her smile faded entirely, then, and she nodded. Understanding.

“I…” she trailed off as her mind habitually began to spin lies, but she shook them away, forcing the truth to the surface. “I threw a dart at a map. Back in January, actually. It landed just south of Deer Park, so… I live here, too, I guess.”

She made herself look at him, even though it was painful. His hair was longer. His beard slightly scruffier. The jacket was new. She wondered what else in his life was new. Did he have a new job? A new home? A new girlfriend? She couldn't bear to ask.

“I… I didn't plan to be here as long as I have been,” she said, feeling the need to apologize for her presence. After spending so many years as Murph's partner, offering him only security and comfort and love, seeing him look at her like she was a gun that had shot him was excruciating. “Are you… did you know Rory's here?”

The sound of her voice was a blade and Murph was sure if he looked down, he'd see the handle sticking right out of his chest. His memory had preserved her so perfectly, the late nights when he'd run out of ways to busy himself and it was just him and her ghost running through conversations he knew he'd never get to have. But she was corporeal here, real enough to touch if he just reached out.

He didn't, though. Instead, he watched as the scene played out before him, his dog— their dog— whining in a way he was pretty sure he understood on a visceral level. Fig had taken the loss of Valley almost as hard as he had, so what was he supposed to do now? Drag her away because he was overcome with a desperate need to flee this situation before his brain could make sense of it? Before the knee-buckling loss of her could return to feast upon him again? He was only just beginning to parse together the shreds of his life, to weave them back into a semblance of something.

Her attention was on him now, a question bridging the chasm between them. But he could only look at her. A stranger. His wife. A liar. His lover. She was everything and she was nothing and Murph couldn't reconcile what was true with everything he'd once thought he knew. Could she hear the way his heart pounded?

And why did she have to smile at him? He'd always been weak for her smile, so animated and full of life. Once upon a time, he'd been able to read the meaning behind every single one. Once upon a time, he thought he'd known her better than he'd known himself.

It was almost laughable now.

"I live here," he said, voice sounding stiff and foreign. "I don't— I'm not—" Stutter and stop, like turning over an engine with a dead battery. He was useless. Every word he'd saved up for her in her absence was suddenly gone. So he just used hers instead. "What are you doing here?"

[valleyxrose]

The more she heard about the project, the more Valley wondered why she hadn't done things like this more often. On some level, she knew why - the selfishness that she'd kept close to her chest like a security blanket her whole life was a survival skill. When a person was as entirely alone in the world as she'd been, they become a bit selfish just from lack of other people to care about. It was scary to be without that, now... but freeing, too.

"Well, if funding is the issue, I can absolutely help with that. Not only monetarily, but I actually have a lot of experience planning fundraisers. Mostly snooty charity galas, but it's fundamentally the same thing," she smiled. "Any of that sounds great, though. I'd love to help however I can. Maybe I can, um... come with you, next time you go?"

The woman's keenness on the project mentioned seemed to pique Safiye's interest, as she set a few clipboards down on a nearby counter and folded her arms to listen more intently if given the chance. She wasn't exactly sure what the other was after—whether it was to see if it was a cause worthy of her donation, or if she was after Safiye's personal opinion; she thought to give a taste of both. "I really love it. It's incredible what we try to do for the community. It's hard to just fund projects like that, so we don't get to go out as often as we want to." Her heart started to weigh heavy in her chest with the topic at hand but she knew that since the stranger's intentions were in the right place, and there was potential her contributions could provide great relief for their work. "We just started a monthly vaccine clinic, we partner with this group that has shower trailers and we try to source personal care items for them.. I think it might be a good idea for you to shadow one of the events, see for yourself– We could always use more help on the administrative front, too, if volunteering yourself is in your repertoire."

𝐅𝐎𝐑: @valleyxrose

[valleyxrose]

who: @murphbloom where: phantom manor halloween rave what: rose & accidental jack

This music was loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Valley hadn't planned on staying long, (mostly using the night as an excuse to wear this gown) but that fact alone made her want to never leave. She could feel the bass like a second heart, thumping in her chest alongside her own. People were dressed wildly, neon colors and inhuman shapes blurring and morphing, making her feel like she was on something more than just fruity cocktails.  She weaved through the crowd, no destination in mind, just allowing herself to enjoy the intensity of this assault on her senses. Together, it all became white noise and static and she felt almost calm in the center of it.  Until she saw him.  What was he doing at a rave? That should've been her first thought. This kind of party was as far from Murph's comfort zone as it was possible to get; he must be so uneasy, so lost and anxious… But that hadn't been Valley’s first thought. Her first thought was, predictably, that he was gorgeous.  She'd only had three (or four?) of these spooky-looking novelty drinks, but they’d given her enough courage to walk up to him. It was only after his eyes met hers and her heart started melting that she realized he might be here with someone. Someone must have dragged him out tonight, right? He wouldn’t come here on his own, and she couldn’t imagine his cousin in a place like this either, so the only reasonable solution was that he had… a date. The thought was somehow scarier than the entire manor above them, and without a word, she immediately turned to leave.

[valleyxrose]

"Don't be sorry! It's a fair assumption, it very much sounded like I just asked you out," Valley laughed, as they walked across the street to the restaurant. "I do think you're gorgeous, and funny, and sweet, and I would like to buy you lunch, but I promise your wife has nothing to worry about. ...I do hear myself. I will stop flirting now."

She shook her head, still laughing at herself, and held the restaurant door open for Jia. "So what's your wife's name?" she asked, resisting the urge to pull Jia's chair out for her as they sat down. "How long have you been married?"

JIA WORKED WITH KIDS. she was used to hearing the most outlandish things. she had, however, not felt mortified in this moment. "oh my god, i'm so sorry," she apologised, wishing the ground would just swallow her up. "i'm so embarrassed, but it really did sound like – oh.. oh god." if sylvia ever heard of this she would laugh for hours. which obviously meant that jia would tell her as soon as she got home. "i don't know how i can salvage any pride after this, but okay, yes, let's have lunch."

[valleyxrose]

"Opal," Valley repeated, loving the hard-candy feel of the name in her mouth. "Opals are one of my favourite gemstones. I love that they can change completely depending on how you look at them." She wondered if the name matched the woman. She was projecting a lot of herself onto this woman so immediately, and she couldn't quite place why, but something was... familiar. Too familiar. She'd have to keep an eye on this one.

She beamed, though, when Opal knew where Valletta was, or even that it was a city. "They were, yes! They went to Malta on their honeymoon, and named me after the capital. Not a lot of people recognize the name. Have you been there?"

Opal knew the woman would have taste, it was why she'd approached in the first place. The dress she wore was a testament to that, Opal taking a moment to openly appreciate the figure she cut in it. And add to that her extensive knowledge of the finer things in life and Opal found herself instantly intrigued.

"You can always tell the difference." Opal returned the smirk, feeling as though they were sharing a secret. It was the first time Opal herself felt like she landed just a little outside the joke. "I'm Opal," she said, her smirk unwinding itself to reveal a friendly, open sort of smile. One more befitting of who Opal was supposed to be. "Valletta is a lovely name." The name of someone born from money. "Were your parents big travelers?"

[valleyxrose]

phantom manor rave costume contest

valletta cambridge as rose from titanic