* ireworn.

hi babes! welcome to IREWORN! my name is kayla and i’m 21+. my pronouns are sher/her. i reside in the eastern timezone. this is an indie, selective, and single muse conjured up from my own imagination. my muse is fandomless but can be placed in multiple fandoms or universes. please be sure to read my rules before following or interacting.

LINKS:

maybe if this was four years ago he’d snap back with the same vitriol. maybe he’d sneer and make some snide remark, turn a small disagreement into a real problem because he never knew how to step away — but he’s not that angry little kid anymore. he’s spent a half-hour every week working on that. so as tempting as it is to return her irritation with his own, he refrains, and the furrow in his brow comes from confusion rather than annoyance.

        “what, i can’t ask how your day is without having some ulterior motive?” confusion gives way to amusement as the corners of his lips twitch. he’s tried talking about the weather, traffic, even complimented her shoes when he approached, and this is what causes her to crack? “i’m serious. how’s your day going?”

the universe is greedy. humans are greedy. why would he pose the question as if people usually don’t have an ulterior motive? a flicker of confusion flashes across cold features, mimicking his own as her profane mouth bites down on its tongue. 

not expecting anyone to come by, he was a bit taken back when he heard knocking at the front door and immediately wondered who it could be. wrapping his hand around the handle, he opened it and was happy to see that it was his best friend on the other side but immediately he knew something wasn’t right. “hi, what are you doing here? not that i mind you stopping by.” he didn’t want to rush right into bringing up that something was obviously wrong with her but it was difficult not to notice. “well, tell me what happened. you can stay over or whatever. it doesn’t matter.” whatever he needed to do in order to be here for her, he was going to do that. it’s what their friendship had always been. 

last song  ──  almeda by solange knowles.

currently  reading  ──  rereading the twilight saga.

currently  watching  ──  rewatching teen wolf, criminal minds, and the falcon and the winter soldier. i also started loki.

last  movie  ──  american assassin.

currently  craving  ──  chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

        “fuck you, those cigarettes are good.” it’s mumbled, thrown right into the middle of her sentence before she can even finish the bage in garbage. there’s no bite to it, the phrase more punchline than insult. timothy lost all rights to any genuine fuck you’s the second his truck died on them. besides, he can’t find it in himself to be offended over her telling the truth. he’s definitely two for two when it comes to goading spencer into trying the nattiest shit—though he’s more partial to his cigarettes than whatever the hell this place is trying to push on its customers.

he settles into his seat as she grabs the coffee cup, gaze expectant as he watches. and yeah, the whole thing unfolds exactly how he’d imagined, but he still gets a kick out of the disgust written on her features. it almost makes up for being stranded at a gas station with bluetooth ceiling speakers and a cashier too fond of madonna’s greatest hits (holiday, music, borderline—twice, all in the past fifteen minutes).

        “right?” for the first time since plopping himself in the booth, he laughs, taking the coffee cup back when she ditches it for water. “some real big competition from regular exclusive blend for shittiest cup of joe in town. somebody should warn loretta.” the jab at their boss comes with a grin that’s soon covered by the lid of the paper cup. it may be dirt water at best, but it cost a full dollar, and he has nothing but time until somebody picks them up—he’s drinking the coffee. at least the sugar wafers he got make it a little bearable. the artificial sweetness and unholy bitterness almost cancel each other out if he times his bites and sips just right.

he’s mid-chew when he pauses to glare at the cashier over spencer’s shoulder as borderline plays for a third time. a sip of coffee washes it down before his gaze shifts to the table, grin gone and scowl in its place.

        “i’m gonna lose my fucking mind before triple a gets here.”

          “loretta is quaking in her boots as we speak.” spencer cracks a joke, surprisingly smiles for the first time since his piece of shit alternator ruined tonight’s plans. talking shit about their work always provides amusement with a laugh or two. that’s exactly what she does: laughs. even if a brow raises expectantly, watching timothy continue to drink arguably the shittiest cup of coffee to exist. there’s definitely something wrong with his taste buds. “her career is basically over. good riddance. fuck her and fuck the diner.”

another laugh escapes then borderline blares through their speakers for the third time. she has never heard so much of madonna until now, and it’s beyond infuriating. her smile dissipates into a tight line. biting the inside of her cheek, she lifts her head to throw an accusatory glower. she’s this close to climbing over the counter to beat the cashier senseless. maybe they’ll acquire better music taste. not whatever the hell this is.

spencer pauses to take a few deep breaths. although it does nothing to calm her down. when the chorus loops for the millionth time, she groans loudly as hands grip the seat. “i’m already losing my fuckin’ mind.” it’s a short mumble mostly to herself. that’s when she explodes.

          “i’m gonna deck this bitch in the face if i hear this song one. more. time.”

                 it’s funny how oblivious gabby is to affection.  she gets so lost when she talks,  never truly thinking before she starts when it’s a topic like this.  her mouth moves faster than her brain thinks.  it’s a constant recurrence, the topic of star wars itself is enough to get her going on a tangent.  sometimes a good thing, or in cases like this, not particularly so good.  it’s the hand on her thigh that makes her stop, and the sound of spencer’s comforting voice to draw her in again.  and when she really listens,  her face gets hot. a stunned but not truly surprised look plastered upon her features.  “ well then … why did you let me blabber so long ?  we could’ve been kissing a while ago ! ”  she exclaims with a laugh, before moving closer to spencer, a small hand caressing her cheek as she plants a loving kiss onto her lips.

@indestructiblemind​  💖

accepting compliments still prove to be a difficult task for spencer. she sits still like a deer caught in headlights; she doesn't receive them unless they're from gabby. in her eyes, these are the only compliments that matter anyway. there's a pause to allow the corners of her mouth to curl. "shut up," she says finally, waving dismissively and rolling her eyes. it's her own not-so-direct way of saying thank you.

@dearlyso​ 💖