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they dont want us to know this but the real cure to the agonies is to engage in shenanigans. tomfoolery even 

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Home | Hollie Startup

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beata linnéa

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if i was in jurassic park i'd be fine because the dinosaurs would love me and therefore not eat me

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Anne Michaels, from "Infinite Gradation," originally published in October 2017

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He was the one she called, he was always the one she called. Passing Jesse’s contact and straight to Rick’s was like muscle memory, sheer and thoughtless, but yet it was engrained in bone and marrow. It was too late before she could think about hanging up, the line only ringing a few times before he answered—just like she knew he would.

It’s cruel, isn’t it? What they had was revolutionary and the very beating heart of this town, the veins of King County. The talk of the town, the passing glances and sweet ‘awes’ as it seemed like every line in every country song played on the radio was right. Love like this only came to a lucky few. Lucky. And she squandered it, left it hanging and abandoned. How cruel that she thought she had any right of returning and pretend it could be normal, that they could be cordial. Friends reuniting. Friends who kissed and spent nights in the van they bought together. Friends who dreamed on wedding bells and binding vows. Friends who had sat at her father’s bar and made plans for the rest of their lives. Friends whose hearts were still intertwined, hammering at the mere thought of his name. Cruel was an understatement.

He answers and accepts so effortlessly and both the guilt and relief washes over her, blushing red. Thankfully her car wouldn’t even start in the Better Days parking lot and not just stranded on some dirt road. The sight of black and white cruises down the road and the reminder dawns on her once again. Rick Grimes, Sheriff. At least one of their dreams came true. “Thank ya, Sheriff.” She smiles as she slips into the passenger seat. It’s impossible not to simply watch him as he drives, much like she did when they were young. Puppy dog love and her gaze glued to his jaw, fingers interlocked with no care of the destination ahead. But here, she was watching in awe at the stature. The title fit him well and he sat with the authority, though he was always a bit shy. But here, he simply can’t. He’s meant to be here. But is she?

They have small talk. Courteous and polite. How work and the business is going. Settling in just fine. Things she remembers and misses from the good ol’ days of their little Southern town. It’s effortless how soft and quickly they can get back into it. Not a word of Lori, though she feels she should ask out of respect and reminder to both of the life chosen and missed out on. She has no right in infiltrating his and her life together, no matter her thoughts and feelings on the matter. But everytime she means to ask, another memory pops up and they’re right back on memory lane.

And when they park in front of her little house at the end of the straight, they’re quiet and unmoving. She should leave and means to, screaming to but remains frozen. The moment she thinks to reach for the door, his hand reaches for her and they’re thrown into pure enraptured. Suddenly, she’s in his lap, pressed together, lips and limbs like fire to kindling. Effortless and cruel. “God, I missed you, Lucky. Lord knows I have.” She whispers amongst labored, stolen breath as each moment is knotted back against his lips or his skin.

The only second apart is to gasp for air, drawn gaze of silk and desire. Longing and yearning. The guilt waits at the door but they don’t plan on answering just yet. “You know me. I could never leave you. Don’t know what I was thinking…” Her lips return to his neck, soft, lingering and slow. “Please, forgive me.”

[CAR]: sender and receiver are making out in receiver's car

Kinda 👀 prompts from here @xgoldxnhour

Maybe he shouldn’t have offered it. No, for sure he shouldn’t have offered to drive her home after her car had broken down and she called him, cause now he was trapped in this moment where he couldn’t help but drown into old memories when he looked at her. So many times in their past they have been in the exact same situation: sitting in his car, staring at each other in the darkness until the tension between them made them unable to speak. But this time it was different. They weren’t a couple anymore. And the car they were sitting in was his police car. The one he only dreamt about driving one day before she left.

Maybe that’s why he hold onto the wheel, fingers tapping against the leather beneath his tips while he felt his throat closing as he looked at her. Just a drive home. Just the knight in shining armor. Just officer friendly helping a friend in need. That was what this should be when his wedding band weighed so heavy on his finger. Eloise could have just left when they arrived at her place. Just open the door and leave, that’s what a part of his voice was screaming in his head and still nothing was happening. The same look, the same tension. And his eyes couldn’t help but fall to her lips when he said “Eloise… you should leave.”. It was what he needed to say in their situation but none of it was what he really wanted. Eloise wasn’t the one making the move, as if she tested the waters trying to figure out what it meant that they nearly went straight back to old habits after he had stepped into her bar on the first night she came back. They didn’t talk about it yet, but Rick knew that every word he would use for it wouldn’t sit right for either of them. And so they both froze. Both stared and said nothing and Rick just hold onto his wheel so he wouldn’t reach out for her instead while she remained right next to him. She didn’t leave.

Maybe there was nothing to be said about their connection because it was so obvious. Maybe what they had was always set in stone and never changed no matter how many years had parted them. Maybe this was always meant to be despite all odds and despite knowing that regret could haunt him in the morning after. Rick knew that Eloise was holding herself back for him and even if he appreciated that fact, it didn’t change the endless longing they probably both felt when they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. In the end no consequence mattered when a love like this took over your heart and so Rick couldn’t help but reach for her hand, muttering a silent “fuck it” before pulling her over to his seat.

Immediately his lips captured hers in a desperate hunger, hand running up her back under her shirt while the other sank into her long blonde waves he used to miss every second in his poor existence. She was all he wanted. Always had been. And if she wouldn’t have left, it would be their wedding band on their hands and this definitely wouldn’t be the first make out session in his sheriffs car. Never did he want to marry Lori. Never did he want to let her go, but back then he had no choice and would anyone blame him for trying to make that right in the here and now? He loved her, she should have known that all along shouldn’t she?

“I missed you.” he breathed out between heavy kisses and touches that went beyond what they had probably planned to, but it felt like if he wouldn’t tell her that over and over again she might forget and think that their last moment of intimacy was just another mistake when the only mistake Rick ever did was marrying someone he didn’t love in the first place. “Why didn’t you just leave? You know I couldn’t let you go like that.” he whispered into her ear while her lips wandered down along his neck, as if she still remembered this was his weakest spot. “I can never let you go again.” It was a promise, a truth he knew he would live up to no matter the cost and when he pulled her head back up to look at him, he couldn’t help but smile before he pressed another kiss to her lips. It was what he dreamt of. What they had talked about over and over again when they were younger and was still as passionate as he had imagined it back then.

“Once you’re a sheriff we will make out in that car.” - “But we can’t, El. It’s my working space.” - “As if we care.”

She was right. He never cared simply because he cared about nothing when she was the one around since she was the only thing that mattered. “Don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”

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arcane (s2) sentence starters

ep1 - 3. warning for spoilers !

❝ everybody wants to be my enemy. ❞ ❝ i've seen miracles spring from the hands of mages many times, but so often, they turned to horrors. ❞ ❝ this will have consequences. ❞ ❝ i keep telling myself that you're different. but you're not. ❞ ❝ i haven't insulted your intelligence. do not insult mine. ❞ ❝ if you see the opening...take the shot. ❞ ❝ you have no inkling what family is to me. ❞ ❝ our paths diverged long ago. it was affection that held us together. ❞ ❝ i'm done blaming myself for your mistakes. ❞ ❝ you think it's so easy? to turn your back while your city looks to you for salvation? ❞ ❝ playing coy doesn't suit you, love. ❞ ❝ is it bad that i'm making friends with my demons? ❞ ❝ can i do the right thing for the wrong reason? ❞ ❝ jeez, lady, you crazy? talking to dead people. ❞ ❝ haven't i done you enough favors? ❞ ❝ i must say goodbye to this place now. to you. ❞ ❝ you got that look in your eye again. what are you planning? ❞ ❝ people have lost their heads for less. ❞ ❝ everyone in my life has changed. promise me you won't change. ❞ ❝ wrath must be met with wrath. ❞ ❝ what you've stolen…is more precious than any gold. ❞ ❝ i apologize for the intrusion. i was attempting to sneak in. ❞ ❝ i keep telling myself that you're different. but you're not. ❞ ❝ address me with respect, or keep your mouth shut. ❞ ❝ this is what you asked for. heavy is the crown. ❞ ❝ and then what? you take what you need, hang me out to dry? ❞ ❝ do you realize how easy it was for me to track you down here? ❞ ❝ i'm done blaming myself for your mistakes. ❞ ❝ awful, isn't it? losing a loved one. ❞ ❝ i'm sorry. i’m not comfortable trusting our fates to chance. ❞ ❝ oh, spare the sympathy. ❞ ❝ uh, you do realize code phrases don't work when you make them up on the spot? ❞ ❝ you think it's so easy? to turn your back while your city looks to you for salvation? ❞ ❝ whether i'm pulling the pin or not, everyone who gets close to me dies. ❞ ❝ you walk along the edge of danger and it will change you. ❞ ❝ my arrogance led me to take on more than i could handle. ❞ ❝ such force must be a final resort. ❞ ❝ every time it seems like we might catch a break. ❞ ❝ it’s nice to know there are still good ones left. ❞ ❝ i promise, it's the last offer you're gonna get. ❞ ❝ no matter what i do, i just can’t seem to die. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry i haven’t been around. ❞ ❝ oh, spare the sympathy. ❞ ❝ you here to finish me off? ❞ ❝ i thought you were on our side. ❞ ❝ you here to finish me off? ❞

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Brewed Awakening Verse Headcanon: Jaime Daughtry was El’s first love and the father to her son, Jaime Jr. “JJ” Daughtry. They married young but they couldn’t be happier. His wife and son was his everything.

Jaime Sr. passed away in a tragic car accident, leaving the family distraught and hollow. It took months for El to even get into a car again, making good use of public transportation and her own two feet. JJ was only 6 when his father died and El always remarks that he has his eyes. Kind, curious and intuitive.

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Hushed whispers echo throughout the evening, little to be held beside work and town gossip—seems that’s the one thing that never changed from King County. Unfortunately for them, the gossip follows two hot headed officers that seem to only walk farther apart. Eloise pays no mind and they pay her little besides the vessel of curls and stormy eyes that shares the laps of his mother and uncle.

The three share their own dinner together, parsing through beans and toast, though her rumbling stomach can’t much tonight. Too full of leftover anger and regret. Jesse barely asks, knows not to when it comes to the liking of Shane. They’re similar that way, wired by their own stubbornness that bites more than it can chew—often needs to soothe where they left teeth. He also knows it changes nothing between them, not like other grudges made amongst the group. No, the Walsh couple may be passionate in their love and grievances, but they make up just as easily as they fight—bruised egos and all.

Jesse waits up as long as he can, sitting alongside his mirrored twin, nephew belly full and teetering between sleep. They laugh and speak lightly of all memories, long past glazed in nitrate and nostalgia. The night they decided to run away after their mother died and made it all the way to Tallahassee. Barely enough money for a bus ride and a shared plate of pancakes, forced to sleep at the bus stop before their father came the next morning. They called in remorse just past ten and of course, Roan Sr barely noticed but through a fit as if he’d been pacing a dent in the kitchen with his worry. Forced to learn their lesson overnight, there came their father before the bus out in his truck. No one spoke the entire drive back to King County nor had they spoken about it since ‘til today.

Embers float into nothing as the familiar ache returns at the thought of their father, stolen away before any chance of true reconciliation. They tried, he tried in his own way until his dying breath, hopefully running around with their angel gone too soon. At least they have someone looking after them. Throat raw with near tears, Eloise is left by a dying fire, vision going blurry by the glows of orange and yellows, serenaded by the chorus of crickets and cicadas. A quiet note, blissful in its sorrow as all she’s left with is the repeated exchange between couples scorned. Perhaps she should’ve swallowed her pride and dug her heels in until the two settled then and there. Was that truly the hill she was ready to die on? After the day, it’s hard to even remember the source of their anger.

Whatever inch lies left diminishes at the sight of pouted lip and scavenged bloom of his dues tied in ribbon. His heart bares, soul to air, as she gaze barely leaves the campfire until finally fit to meet his eyes. The sorrow is on display, worn like cloth on a mannequin. With a final breath, she barely nudges her knee to brush his.

“We never went to bed angry before—not intend to start now.” Her words meet fire, soft and short until a smile slowly creases at cracked, summer scorn lips. Taking the apology, those worn lips purse as those very wildflowers flush every memory back of longing kisses after fights or just merely moments apart. Though Shane isn’t a man of little words, he still speaks volumes in a language long shared and learned together.

“You always knew how to make a good apology.” Another deep breath as her eyes fall to the soft snores and a falling chest held in her arms, their love and passion and apologies incarnate. Proof that he’s done plenty right. “Thank you…Now, don’t you move and let me put him to bed, so, I can thank you properly, alright?” She kisses Roan’s hair and allows Shane to say his soft good nights before she leaves to lay their son in their tent. Barely a minute gone, the blonde returns and stands directly in front of him. Pink paints across her cheeks where she’s lightly sunburned and will most likely tan and freckle by the morning, there she stands in silence with crossed arms. Her foot nudges at his to straight enough for her spot to welcome, gladly sat in her husband’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

More moments pass in silence as she searches his hands, running fingers across his shaved head and thumbs swiping across cheek bones. “You’ve done plenty right and plenty wrong, Shane, but so have I. So has Rick and Daryl and Hershel and just ‘bout everyone else on this farm, alright, that don’t make you special in fucking up.” She’s stern for only a moment, hand holding his chin to look directly at her. Every grim and stoned feature melts at the sight of the sorrow buried in his eyes and lines of stress and worry that’s left in his skin.

“I know you’re trying everything you can to protect us, but know I’m doing just as much the same for you.” She loosens her grip only to brush away invisible weights on his shoulders as the mantle of sacrifice and Sisyphean obligation can be shared between the two. “Doesn’t have to be just yours to carry, darling…” She coos, only inches from his face as they nestle closely. There’s no other place she’d rather be.

“An’ no one’s expecting you to keep your mouth shut, Shane—I seem to remember falling for that mouth of yours once upon a time. I still do.” Bringing his chin down, her lips press against his gently, barely touched until bloomed into longing behest. A silent apology between them both and a promise of unchanging foundation as she speaks against his lips. “Let me worry about Hershel, alright? Rest easy that your wife can be just as persuasive as the deputy. Don’t have to run the show by yourself, baby…You’ve done good by us already.”

Sunscorched, not only in skin but in wits, nerves and spur. There seemed to be little to hold onto in the days of rotten flesh and hungry bellies on either side of the mortal line. It was days like these, with little to thankful for, gratitude was given in the span of the le Roux-Walsh company. Loss has a greater kill count these days, her father being among them and it feels like the group grows thinner and thinner each day. The sun doesn't bare any forgiveness this afternoon as Eloise waits for any opportunity to get away from tasks and chores and to go check on the pile of logs known as her husband. Her heart aches to see him out there, gnawing at splinters and kindling, a fainted distraction at the already corrosive divide between the batch. There can be little blame in how people react in such unpredictable action as the course of history has never been seen, heard, or experienced before. 'We grieve in our ways.' Her father always said, a pitiful excuse at the time for daydrinking way back when, but the thought does wander her mind these days. After losing Roan Sr., and Bailey, grief became a far too familiar companion in their household, one that nestles and digs its own grave in your very bones, parasitic and all-consuming. It was even the first thought at the secret disposed of the Hershel farm as they discovered what lies behind their barn walls. A dangerous pastime but understandable especially in the eyes of medicine. What if there were to be a cure one day? Their group lost that whim thought the first hour the day began to rise.

And now, the divide continues to seemingly collapse into itself, the mere conversations between the wives and mothers of possible escapes or coups were driving her up the wall and needing her own form of getaway.

And to be put it kindly, El was always classified as quite the understanding gal, despite her stubbornness, but it seems like the sun had worn both their tolerances thin. She frowns at his response, hands braced at her hips, leaning back onto her right foot as if made from impact. Her head turns and inhales, funny enough, an attribute borrowed and since mirrored from Shane--the image is almost laughable, if it weren't for the pitting fire wrestling midst their chests.

"Ain't my place, huh? Don't throw my responsibility and love of being mother as a sense of duty, darling, alright?" She swallows deeply, brows furrowed as she takes her time trying to decipher the words she wishes to say. It takes her back to their vows spoken beneath the tree, the promises whispered for only the two the hear as the wind carried them away. Her place was spoken to always be beside him, but it seems they too a bit a bit distanced lately by the days and province taken to just barely survive. She won't take his words too personally now, but it doesn't mean she'll keep quiet about it. "So, when you're done playing martyr, deputy, why don't you tell my husband that his wife is looking for him. Whenever you see him when you're done. Since I have no place here with your ego and pile of dead logs." Her hands raise in surrender, wiping off her shorts before sticking her hand in her pocket and tossing a ziploc bag of a sandwich she was wanting to bring to him. It's nothing substantial by any means, merely bread and a slice of cheese, but in this world, it's a heaven's prayer. "Thought you might be hungry." Turning around, she waves goodbye and treks off to find other use of her anger. "Don't let me keep you."

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Joey! The baby is kicking for the first time! Will you please come feel this?!