" i wear sunscreen. wanting to be home, home, home on the range isn't exactly a problem for me. you sound like a farmer. "
〝 so? it's a respectable profession. pays damn well, too. 〞

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@cotiere
" i wear sunscreen. wanting to be home, home, home on the range isn't exactly a problem for me. you sound like a farmer. "
〝 so? it's a respectable profession. pays damn well, too. 〞

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a small, defeated sigh escapes him before he can stop it. it's not that he's mad at stefan, he understands where he's coming from, he just wishes it wasn't such a hostile confrontation every time. it's different for maverick, of course, out since high school, very obviously in love with stefan the whole time, but he knows there's a reason they hardly ever leave the apartment. he wouldn't ever break stefan's trust like that, but in turn, he feels like he's lying to his own people. this big thing of his behind closed curtains. "so you want me to tell them i'm dating some old guy from school or something ? " it comes out with a bit more bite than he means for it to, but it seems like a dumb idea neither of them would ACTUALLY want.
it's wishful thinking to believe he'd handle this any other way under different circumstances. still its what he tells himself. another day, another mood, another anything, and he might muster enough empathy to deserve the relationship in question. stefan doesn't, he never will. fewer eyes on them prolongs the inevitable. makes him seem less of a caged animal, too. maverick's cornering him now. perhaps not deliberately but facts have little effect on what he can feel.
〝 yeah, 〞 he responds, spitefully insincere. the thought of it, as if a small fib would cause it to materialise, aggravating in ways he cannot describe. something akin to jealousy albeit more defeatist, apathetic almost. 〝 makes no difference to me. 〞
eating his protein bar, he nodded, listening to her words. leaning down, he kissed the top of her head, ignorant to her worries. he hadn't met someone's parents before either. unless his own parents came to visit, mj wouldn't be meeting them until their wedding day—if that were to come. he supposed this wasn't the time to ask about their future. "it'll be good," he says, confident. "in and out and on my best behaviour."
emotions unregulated, everything feels both like the beginning and the end of the world. dejection overwhelming, love choking her out. prepared to deal with his perceived dismissal on her own (not at all), mj doesn't foresee the following acceptance. much like he's unlikely to predict the collision of bodies, head against his chest and arms wrapped around tight him. she still might just cry.
〝 it won't be. i hate them. 〞
it's the most she's revealed about her parents, and it's nothing at all. the words of another deadbeat daughter, ringing true for all those of her kind—underemployed, weed smoking, tattooed and pierced. but she means it. something he's bound to realise after this one dinner.
〝 thank you. 〞
an addict can spot an intoxicated individual from a mile away, and it didn’t take much to notice the drunken state of rome. from the stumbles, the little wrinkle of his nose when he denies, the way he spoke more with his hands. it causes a twitch of a smile to ghost along features, warm sensation in her stomach. guards down, no longer masking or tip-toeing around her. “ you’re drunk. ” it’s no longer a question but a statement, and the smile now evident as she crosses her arms. body leans against the closest wall, watching him with ease. “ yes, i was snacking in the kitchen and didn’t want to get caught. ” head tilts. “ c’mon, i’ll help you get to bed. lucky for you — i know a good hangover remedy. ” it’s her first attempt at a joke, silent prayer the humour will land.
a beer too many and he's bound to never hear the end of it. one unpredictable switch in their dynamic for the night, and he reckons he hasn't been drunk around lennox since their teens. suppose it's a ongoing theme then, these trips down memory lane. he should've known as much when he opened up his home. even if the late night spooning is beyond his comprehension. he should ask her about that.
〝 i'm drunk, 〞 roman admits, pretence dropped. roman's never been much of a liar, anyhow. although most likely a bad one if he were to guess.
he laughs, something between an exhale and a snort.
〝 forgot i was speaking to the expert, that's my bad. 〞 approaching, he lacks the sobriety to gauche appropriate distance, winding up in her space, head dipped. 〝 alright, doc, lead the way. 〞
"i don't know," he says, feeling smaller already. "because we like to talk about things going on in our lives and mostly i get the feeling they just want me to move on from... y'know... my crush. wouldn't be so bad to go back to them with some good news."
good news. a muscle twitch, his jaw clenched–he all but winces in response. a phrase so innocently put and stefan takes it like a punch in the gut.
another reminder of who they were before, to each other and otherwise. a man unmoved and the thorn in his side. had it been anyone else, anyone other than maverick, it would've been less of a humiliation ritual to profess.
he should've come to terms with it already. thought he had, too. gay, sure. if he has to be. but this: rolled over with a belly exposed, like a fixed mutt. like a decade ago he hadn't almost swung at the implication. they wouldn't be here if he had.
〝 then tell them you've moved on. leave me out of it. 〞

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"i bet he'd be ready if you told him that. hey, even i'd step up if you needed me. y'know... daddy maverick." he giggles at his own words, but can really imagine himself with a baby on his hip. not one to take home, no, sawyer and lou can take the sleepless nights, but someone to hang out with. some little guy that doesn't know what the world has to offer just yet.
it's encouraging although encouragement isn't what she needs. it's too soon. two years into the relationship, one year into living together—what's the timeline for these things anyway? a reminder of the conversation had with sienna, and she again wishes she had her mother to ask.
〝 pretty sure that'd just freak him out. 〞 absolutely certain being more like it, and the fact conjures anxieties of her own. she pivots. 〝 daddy maverick. sounds to me like you should be getting one for yourself. 〞
She looks so pretty like this, beneath him, looking up at him — him, the only thing in her field of vision, in her periphery. He hopes she never goes away again. Maybe if she did, he'd follow her. Her cloying tone is sweet, even if it's put on just for his sake, and brushed lips turn into a kiss, sinking into it.
"Wouldn't it be the other way around? You'd be warming my cock up. You want that?" He coos back, reaching down to jerk himself off a little.
she loves him. it's as wonderful and as terrible as that. euphoria once only found at the end of a needle now achieved through lazy kisses before the morning sun. it convinces her that she doesn't need it anymore, it reminds her that she does still. but for the moment, she melts beneath him, dirty talk and all. shaking her head, as much as his lips allow, oliver's voice stays velvet.
〝 i need it, baby. 〞 she fusses, words goading.〝 need my husband taking care of me. need it so bad it hurts, baby. 〞
" i'd rather drink my coffee alone, thanks. 'cause i have like, my phone, and a bunch of people to text back. which is something i'm in the habit of doing. " @cotiere
maybe he'd been better off pretending to not have noticed her. last thing he needed was getting chewed off in the town's only coffee shop. it'd have people talking. talk that was bound to make its way back home.
〝 i deserve that, 〞 he acknowledges, hoping it would defuse the situation. part of the whole spiel anyhow. accountability.〝 i was just coming over to apologise. it's been a crazy couple weeks and i've had a lot going on but that's no excuse. i should've reached out, let you know. shitty of me not to. 〞
Amara's mostly bark, but it serves her here, able to talk up a big game when Florence is staring her down, anticipating something spectacular. She considers the hypothetical deeply, teeth flush against her lower lip with concentration. "That seems a little basic. I'd obviously become best friends with her, and you'd, like, be the third wheel. Just to make you, like, suffer a little bit. I would eventually have to get rid of her, though because obviously I'm doing all of this to be your best friend. So then I guess I'd have to kill her. It's hard to even think about because I can't imagine you having a better friend than me."
her imagination goes along with amara's scenario, the part of her new best friend played by a faceless blob, eventually to bleed out on the sidewalk. hit and run, she figures. although her friend doesn't go into too much detail. a shame, too. it's what she's the most curious about. even if this scheme to prompt jealousy out of florence strokes her ego well enough.
〝 kind of want to test this out now. see how far you'll go. 〞 she admits, a comment to be made in jest although none is found. leaning in, her voice is lowered. 〝 don't think you have it in you, though. too much of a chicken. 〞
" because we have the option for it to be. accepting second best is the first slippery step on the staircase of mediocrity. do you want to break your neck falling down that, claire? "
〝 it's an alumni brunch fundraiser, not brain surgery. i think we can afford phoning it in on the decorations without any spinal injuries. 〞

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"i just—i want to know if i'm allowed to mention this," he motions between the two of them, eyes anywhere below stefan's shoulders, "to sawyer. or like, your sister. they're my friends, stef."
maverick's best friend, he sees coming, but his own sister? heat rises to hollowed cheeks, and his chest tightens. the next question out his mouth both idiotic and telling at once, connection between brain and mouth teetering on severed.
〝 why, 〞 curt, arms folded. 〝 how's that any of their business? 〞
"what you think is mediocre might not be the same to someone else. god makes us all great in our own ways."
uncharacteristically, he stifles something between a scoff and a groan. but with his poker face not quite as controlled, features out him as nonplussed all the same.
〝 ... seriously? 〞
he thinks for a moment, pauses, and tilts his head like a curious dog, thinking about the situation at hand. he's not a fan of meatloaf in the first place and— "most people don't like talking about medicine at the dinner table, m. i'm not sure how i could start that conversation."
〝 i didn't mean actually— 〞 never mind, she decides. saving explanations on hyperbole for a later date.〝 i've never brought somebody home before, and like yeah, they're assholes, but … 〞 but she wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, and she wouldn't ask him if he wasn't, either. 〝 it's whatever, i'll just come up with something else. 〞
" way worse people than me have killed themselves. hitler killed himself. "
〝 you're comparing yourself to hitler? 〞 florence knows he's not but his theatrics are annoying.〝 either way it's not the same. hitler killing himself was the equivalent to a fox in a bear trap, chewing its own leg off. you're an idiot who dropped his keys down the drain, not a wild animal fighting for its life. give me your earbuds. 〞
〝 there is seriously nothing flakier in this world than not showing up for your own abortion. 〞 @lavenderhaeze

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A small laugh ekes out of him. "No, I'm definitely gonna tell Teddy." He says, eyes glinting with something cheeky. Sawyer's changed him for the better in immeasurable ways, but there's still an instinctive tendency to be an ass to anyone other than her. It's why he doesn't really have any friends. He'd only get some if Sawyer wanted him to — content to sit in his room and play video games and if inspiration strikes, make music. It works just about, this balance, and he's never once felt claustrophobic from them living together.
He smiles against her touch. "My face? What about your face? You could have anyone you wanted." He taps her temple. "Must be a screw loose up here. Choosing me. But hey, I'm not complaining."
it's been like a dream. finding their way back to one another, falling in love all over again, moving in together. if she weren't so enamoured by their present, she'd be planning every detail of their future. for now, she relishes in what'll once be a memory. giddy with cheeks aching, drunk on both wine and love.
〝 oh, i'm a total nut. 〞
had things worked out differently for them, or if lou hadn't reciprocated all those wanton emotions, she undoubtedly would be. but never would she have chosen anybody else.
〝 i've spent my whole adult life wanting you, lou. ever since the parakeets. 〞 it's too sentimental. digging any deeper and it'll surely set off more waterworks, so she keeps it light. 〝 you were being so sweet with 'em, and i remember thinking it was a shame i'd gone and messed it all up because i just wanted to jump your bones all over again. 〞
He blinks at her. Opens his mouth then clamps it shut again. "Right..." Jack processes, narrowing his eyes at her. "You know your daughter taught me a term the other day. Situationship? It seems quite applicable to whatever you two have going on."
〝 you're too old to be using words like that, or to be hanging around twenty year olds. 〞 deflection. 〝 and it's not, actually. it's a relationship. 〞