don't bullshit a bullshitter

Tuck shook his head, the beers were already starting to get to his brother’s head and he could tell. Or maybe they were getting to his own head for thinking that he couldn’t run for mayor. Tuck couldn’t picture himself running for anything in their town unless he felt strongly about it. He could picture seeing campaign posters around the place though, but none with his picture on it. There wouldn’t be a poster big enough to fit his head. “Maybe I should run for mayor.”  Tuck contemplated it for another few seconds before he forgot about it, laughing at his brother’s reminder. “Don’t even get me started on her nieces, I’m still trying to explain to the woman why I never showed up to dinner at her house the weekend they came down to visit her.” Tuck was grateful that Nash didn’t linger on the topic of their father for too long. There were a lot of things that the man had done for them but there was always a lot of pride that got in the way from both ends of the relationship. To this day it made Tuck upset just thinking about how tough he used to be with the both of them, but he was even more upset that one of the last conversations he had with his father was an argument. “Eleven years…” he murmured to himself, thinking it over. Although there was still plenty of beer left in his bottle, he walked inside towards the kitchen after Nash spilled all the information he had been keeping from him. Babs Schaffer… Nash was dating Babs Schaffer and he was in over his head. He was in over his head and by everything he said it was obvious that Nash was more than just in over his head. If Tuck didn’t know better he would say that Nash was already in love with the girl. Tuck finally headed back towards the balcony with more beers in hand for them, remaining silent as he handed his brother another one despite still having one in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he brought up his beer for a long drink, finally finishing it off before reaching for another. “I don’t know if you realize this but you couldn’t say all of that without a hint of a smile on your face,” he said quietly. “You clearly like this girl, and I know why you’ve been hesitant to bring it all out in the open.” People would talk, but it wouldn’t be something that didn’t blow over after a week or two. “If you like her that much, don’t let anythin’ stop you from bein’ with her Nash. We’ve been through our fair share of shit with relationships. You’ve messed up, and Lord knows I’ve fucked up too. All I can say is pay no mind to people, you do whatever you gotta do to make it last if you really wanna be with Babs. You owe yourself some happiness, brother.” 

There was a look of amusement on the younger Gordon’s face as he watched his brother – was Tuck actually really considering it? Hell, in Nash’s opinion, it would be good to get some new blood in the office. And Nash would make a fantastic campaign advisor. “Just give me the go and I will begin concocting pithy campaign slogans.” Nash’s eyes widened in near-terror. The girls were pretty enough, to be sure, but they were a bit crazy, even for Nash’s taste. It didn’t help that within half an hour of meeting, they were asking how many children he wanted and making comments about how pretty his blue-eyed babies would be. “Yes I just prefer to forget about them altogether.” He watched the number roll off of his brother’s tongue, bracing himself for impact. Nash had dated girls in their twenties, but only the ones very nearing thirty – this was a new ball game, and he wanted to test it on Tuck before he decided if he could ever choose to go public about it. He watched his brother desperately, waiting for him to say something, say anything. The only other person he’d told explicitly about his feelings was Brooke, and she’d taken it…well, as well as Brooke Parker could take anything from him. As soon as Tuck handed him another beer, he immediately cracked it open and took a long gulp. This girl was absolutely driving him mad. When Tuck finally spoke, Nash looked at him with a bit of a whimsical smile; he knew he was right. God, he was practically giddy at the thought of her, which made him feel all kinds of absolutely absurd. He sighed, taking in his brother’s advice but also feeling relieved. “It’s just a ‘lil more complicated than that,” he admitted. “We haven’t had a conversation about, well, us. And the future. We’ve just been fooling around, trying to stay casual. But…it’s getting harder for me to keep things casual.”

(closed for @nashhgordon​)

Knowing full well that this could go South quickly, Brittany had a a box cutter in the pocket of her overalls just to be careful. A girl could never be too careful, right? As far as she knew, Nash was a normal and decent guy, he worked for the local newspaper and lead a regular life, from what her grandparents told her. Once they were made aware a few years back that Clarissa had lied to them about everything and the Gordons knew nothing about Brittany, they really didn’t want to interrupt anyone’s peace and wouldn’t relinquish any information to the teen easily. It wasn’t until she begged and pleaded about wanting to visit the gravesite of her father with her brothers this father’s day that they’d handed over all of the information they had. “What the fuck…” she spoke to herself quietly as she entered the apartment building that they apparently owned. Locating the door for Nash Gordon, she knocked on the door rather angrily, chewing on the piece of gum in her mouth in a rather anxious manner. What would he be like? Would be accept her as his sister? Did he like their piece of a shit father? Many questions ran through her mind, but she was more defensive than nervous at this point.

Babs had been gone all of twenty minutes when a knock came to his door. Nash was reading the Sunday paper, expecting hours of solitude before his girl returned, and the unexpected company caused some confusion. The only people he knew who would come over without telling him first had keys themselves. His plan had been to distract himself, keep from thinking about the gravity of this day. It was the first year he would not be going to his father’s grave, despite his mother’s insistence that he should. He’d given that man this day every year alive and even the past two that he was dead, he would get no more from the son he only had negative words for. Fate, though, had other plans. He sighed, setting down the paper and making his way to the door where his eyes fell on an unfamiliar blonde, and his brows furrowed.

“Can I….help you?”

“A gentleman? Who’re you tryn’ t’impress?” Babs taunts as she raises a playfully skeptical eyebrow in his direction as she waits for him to stand. 

But the fact of the matter was Babs was impressed by the whole thing. The set up in the barn, the obvious thought he had put into it and the time it must have taken to pull it all together. It was head and shoulders above any other first date she’d ever been presented with. 

Added to that was the fact that, really, Nash didn’t have to do anything this grand to gain her attention. He was already at the forefront of her thoughts most hours of the day.She was already his girlfriend, and she slept over at his apartment more often than not these days. She was a sure thing, and yet he still seemed to be doing his damndest to secure even more affection out of her. 

And it was definitely working. 

“Oh, you’ve got moves,” she giggles as he turns in a circle, nodding with approval to the fact that he didn’t immediately topple over. Maybe there was a chance of them eventually exiting this barn with no broken tailbones. 

Once he takes her hand, she leans them in the direction of the floor of the barn that’s smoother for skating, starting them in a path of a wide circle. 

“You know, this puts a lot of pressure on me to come up with a really good second date. You’ve raised the bar,” she tells him, looking over with a grin as they roll along. 

“I’d be pissed at you if I wasn’t so stupidly happy.”

At her quip, Nash drops at the knees as though he’s been dealt a fatal blow, but he’s at least managed to enough balance on the skates to keep himself from tumbling down even with such dramatics; that ought to impress her, if nothing else.

“You’ve never been as impressed with me as I’d like,” he joked with her, though there was a touch of the serious there. “Not since the beginning. I was pulling out all my best lines, and you outwitted me every time.”

It was a funny memory now, considering everything that had happened in the interim.

“So imagine my surprise when it turns out you’d been harboring a crush on me all along,” he says with a raised brow. There was no way he was going to let her live down that admission.

Nash was a little rustier than he’d expected; he hadn’t exactly kept in great shape since he’d hung up his skates after high school. But he was starting to get the hang of it again, the comfort in maintaining just the right balance and momentum.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, baby,” he teases, trying to keep up with her once they begin to move in tandem. She is so practiced, it puts him to shame, but he is determined to keep up with her, and hopefully not force her to slow herself for his sake.

“It isn’t a competition, you know,” he tells her lightheartedly. “I just wanted to do somethin’ to make you happy. Glad I could succeed at that.”

He shot her a devilish grin.

“You got any tricks up your sleeve, Evel Knievel?”

“I mean, maybe a little.” She laughed, unable to help herself. Nash was at least a good sport with their bickering. “Alright, you got me there, but don’t count on it.” She pointed her index finger at him. “Don’t count on it one bit.” She teased, though after four drinks, Leah knew that she was fair game to a lot of information whether she wanted to be or not. “Of course they aren’t as pretty as me,” she shot back at him, “I mean, you think any of them know how to use a hygiene products?” Her brow raised, though her lips pushed apart with a small laugh, “I can work a uniform better than any of the guys down at the station and they’re just too afraid to admit it.” Her confidence was boosted with drink number three. 

“I actually pride myself on never having been arrested. I think my dad was sure I’d wind up behind bars one day, for one thing or another. Maybe I have just been extra cautious in an effort to prove him wrong,” he said with a chuckle and a shrug. It really was pretty exhausting, always seeking the approval of a dead man. “Okay…if you say so….” he told her in a way that was not at all convincing, but in truth, his attempts to pump her for information would remain at a minimum. Nash grimaced at the question. “Out of loyalty to my cousin and dear friend Ace, I am choosing not to answer that question.” He quirked a brow. “Too afraid to admit it? Surely not. There is not even a question about who the hottest officer on the force is. The only excuse could be denial.”

“I suppose so,” Lucy shrugged her shoulders. When it came to any kind of serious relationship, Lucy wasn’t exactly the most committed. Commitment to anything other than ballet terrified her. She threw away the best relationship she had ever had because of that. “What? That’s crazy! It sounds like your inters have quite the soap opera going on,” she said, letting out a laugh. “Well, not at the moment. The drama usually happens around recital times, and of course there’s some students that don’t get along with each other, but that’s common for their ages.” It wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. “Did you really? Now you’ve got to tell me al about the basket you bid on and the date that went along with it.” 

Nash chuckled with wide eyes. Usually he kind of liked the drama of other people, so long as he wasn’t directly involved; hell, that was part of the reason he had chosen to pursue journalism of all things in the first place. But in this case, it affected the productivity of his work, and he found it more frustrating than anything. “We don’t have any little ballet versions of Tonya Hardings do we?” he asked, a bit intrigued but bracing himself for a much less exciting response. “If I tell you, you’re going to think I’m crazy,” he said with a laugh. “It included a cloak, spicy food, and a note about getting your heart racing. As a disclaimer, I was looking for someone in particular, but I didn’t quite wind up with hers. Turns out, we went to the creek after dark – yes, in the pouring rain – and tried to summon the witch. We thought it’d be fun to scar anyone else who’d be out there that time of night, but I think we ended up scaring ourselves more than anything,” he shook his head with a small smile at the memory. “See what you’re missing out on?”

Aileen had an unremarkable talent that allowed her to act irrationally before thoroughly thinking through the possible setbacks of her actions. That was indeed the case with the entire situation that’d happened with Travis last year.  Would she truly be able to forgive him? Deep down in her heart? Every time the query passed her mind, she’d always told herself yes. There had been mistakes and she wasn’t an innocent in the casualty that was her marriage. While she was attentive and loving, she could have spent more time at home, she could have made them have serious conversations about children instead of planning without much of Travis’ input. These were all things she told herself time and time again. “Yeah… I do think I could, Nash.”

It was hard to track the emotions as they crossed his friend’s face. Nash was an observer of people, always trying to read between the lines, hear the words unspoken. There was a lot there to unpack, and it was impossible to know which emotion was prevailing in the moment. “If you can forgive him, and you obviously still love him, you should give it another shot.” He almost couldn’t believe the words out of his own mouth, but maybe he’d had his own recent change of heart. “He will have trust to rebuild, but it seems like he still loves you and you still love him. There is nothing wrong with trying, if you want to. And there’s nothing wrong with not trying if you don’t. Your relationship with Travis is between the two of you, no one else.” He smiled softly at her, leaning in. “And I’ve got your back, whatever you decide to do.”

nashhgordon​:

It turned out that at nineteen years old, Nash was a lot more resilient than he was nowadays. He struggled with the breakup, the finality of it, but eventually he’d been able to move on. At the very least he could say he didn’t let her go without making one last go of it, and when it hadn’t worked out, he didn’t have to live with what-if’s and regrets; though he’d be lying if he said that, until recently, she’d been on his mind more and more as he was assaulted with questions about settling down, and as he genuinely entertained some of them. But things were different now, for both of them.

Nash tried to gauge her reaction, but it was difficult and even damn near impossible. She could manipulate him and deceive him better than anyone, but he no longer had the energy or the motivation to try to parse out her real feelings. “Good, I don’t think I’d be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t bring my girl along to a wedding,” he joked. “Barbie Schaffer, I’m sure you probably don’t her.” Maybe that was wishful thinking on his part.

Contrary to the belief of most, Angelina Corina Castro did have somewhat of a heart and she wasn’t going to be a bitch about the fact that he wanted to bring his girlfriend along. Barbie Schaffer didn’t ring any immediate bells but she was going to be around around just to see if he’d made some sort of upgrade. Subsequently looking over the itmes in her cart, Angelina tiltd her head to one side and bit down on her bottom lip. If there was never a time she regretted saying yes to that pumpkin head shaped bastard she called a fiance, it had finally come to fruition. Not only did Nash agree to come to her wedding, he was going to bring a girl named Barbie. Barbie? She had to have been blonde or Angelina would be insulted for the Mattell goddess herself.

“Barbie Schaffer… assuming that’s short for Barbara? I would hope so.” She immediately laughed, slapping a delicate hand over her chest as she leaned forward in amusement. “Oh dear, well.. I am sure you’re a busy man, Nash. Tell Barbie I said hello.” Not that she wouldn’t love to stand there in the middle of the grocery store and chat more about his new girlfriend whilst silmultaniously restricting herself from what her mother could only describe as Latina outrage, but she didn’t want to hold him.

“Of course we will.” Ace stated, dropping his first on the table for added effect. finally smiling for the first time since the conversation started. “There’s no more school so she’ll have a lot of free time. Summer’s here, we’ll go tubbing, take her to the water tower, has she been there already? Never mind, we’ll go anyway. It’ll be good for us, too, get our minds out of all that, hang out with Kota, Audrey. The whole crew.” It was one of the reasons he had come back to Frostford, California had a lot to offer but it didn’t have the same feeling of getting together with his family and friends to fool around together. “So, change of topic, what you’ve been up to? Got any juicy news?”

“Hell yeah, I still can hardly believe summer is actually here.” The change of subject was welcome to Nash, as he had a lot of feelings about Kiran and his departure, and most of them were mixed. “I’ve been telling her for weeks she has to climb the water tower. Maybe you ought to help me convince her,” he said with a chuckle. Naming off the old crew, it stirred up something in Nash, feelings of nostalgia that he couldn’t shake. “Feels like forever since we’ve really gotten everyone together. We gotta do that more.” Nash eyed him suspiciously, but there was a playful smile on his lips. “The way you framed that question, I’d reckon you already know my juicy news,” he said with a quirked brow. “I may or may not be dating someone, yes. And I know what you’re thinking – I know she’s way….prettier than I am, but I am learning to live with that,” he joked. “Don’t be surprised if she starts coming around a lot more. I think this one could actually last a while. But enough about me, last I heard you were still tryin’ to pick a fight with my brother about some softball game. What’s been goin’ on with you?”

Kiran tipped his head back in laughter, “No, not Sadie. You don’t have to worry about that.” He told Nash, shaking his head. “Only one Lockhart around town I’d be workin’ with. He’s got a good gig training these dogs for vets and I think if I’m lookin’ to stick around town I need to keep my ties kinda close to my work,” Kiran admitted, not wanting to completely give up the marines, but also not needing to be deployed with Elle sitting at home for him. He nodded his head. A lot of people were biased in wanting him to stay home. A lot of people had been angry when he took off after his father passed away and joined the marines. He hurt a lot of people and he had a lot of making up to do. “It’s on the table. Just workin’ out the last few kinks, ya know?” He didn’t want to get Elle’s hopes up. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it. For a lot longer than the three months I’ve been back, but this,” he looked down at his arm and while it wasn’t a serious injury, it was yet another one. “it’s time to come home.” 

Maybe Sadie Lockhart didn’t deserve all the flak she got; in fact, Nash would even say the relationship with her wasn’t bad. She was thoughtful and sweet, but she invested and she invested quick and when she came out heartbroken….well, seeing posters with his face on an animal body for weeks did not leave a good taste in his mouth. “Well, if y’all ever need a dogsitter.” Nash had a weakness for animals, and dogs especially, even moreso that he didn’t have one himself. “Kiran, the fact that you’re even considering it is proof of how much you care about Elle. And that’s good, because that’s what she deserves. Elle is the kinda girl that comes around once in a lifetime, you don’t fuck that up.” He considered that his important friend advice of the day. “We can all respect that it isn’t easy on you. But I saw what it did to her when you left. And maybe she knew what she was signing up for, but I don’t think that is something you would ever want to put her through.”

“Your mama and my grandma should get t’gether sometime and trade their hardwood horror stories,” Babs laughs. If she had had a dollar for every time her grandma had shrieked ‘Not in the house!’ when it came to her skates, she was sure she’d have enough money to go back to college and get another degree. 

Babs gives Nash another quick peck on the lips before she finds a place to sit down and pull her skates on. She hurries in her excitement, lacing them up twice as fast as usual before rolling herself over to the turntable that was set up off to the side. Crouching down, she flips through the ablum selections with a chuckle to herself – nothing but oldies, he was paying attention. When her fingers land on a The Beach Boys: Greatest Hits album nothing else stands a chance. She pulls the vinyl from its sleeve and places it on the rotator, balancing the needle before the speakers crackle and the tune of ‘Kokomo’ starts filling the barn. She grins as she rolls back over to him. “I like this look,” she tells him, nodding towards the skates on his feet. “Hope you have an ice pack or somethin’ in your bag of tricks, in case you fall on your ass.”

Offering her hand to him, she winks. 

“Come on, baby, let’s take a spin.”

“They probably already have,” he said with a soft laugh, imagining it was a conversation that could definitely could have arisen between the two friends already. In his teenage years, he was hard for anyone to wrangle, and he didn’t listen worth a damn. There were probably people who would claim that was still the case.

It has been ages since he’s skated – probably eight years, at least. His confidence waivers as he pulls out old faithful, the same skates he’s had since he was in high school. There are a lot of memories there, and he chuckles as he prepares to put them on. Standing up for the first time, he definitely feels wobbly – his sea legs will need a refresher, that is for sure, but he sticks his arms out to balance himself, getting used to the feeling again.

He hears the Beach Boys playing through the speakers and he smiles despite himself; no surprise with that choice. Nash takes a minute, moving slowly at first, trying to get his speed just right, disappointed he can’t just immediately throw them back on and do all the tricks he used to be capable of; it didn’t help that he had a much older body now. He paused for a moment, a line of determination forming on his forehead, about to try again until he heard her comment about falling on his ass and he scowled.

“You are lucky this is a first date and I’m bein’ a gentleman,” he tells her, now even more determined to show off.

Now that he has steadied himself, it’s beginning to come back to him. He moves, then turns quickly in a circle and stops himself, with no signs of losing his balance, and he can’t help but smirk.

Just like riding a bike.

He smiles up at her, and makes his way over, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers.

“Lead the way, pretty girl.”

“You always struck me as a lightweight,” she teased, looking him once over, “I mean, look at ya,” she shot him a shit-eating grin. “Should be strong enough to carry you home at any rate,” Andy told him with a shrug of her shoulders, “Or I’ll leave ya here with a note about what happened and call Kiran or some shit.” Andy thanked the bartender as their whiskey shots were brought over. “Glad you can handle your whiskey,” Andy told him, lifting her shot glass, “Cheers,” she moved her shot glass toward Nash’s before tossing hers back. She had nothing to cheers to. At least not at the moment. Her whole life felt like it was in shambles. 

“I’ve never in my life been called a lightweight as much as I have in the past month,” he joked. He took her suggestion seriously, pausing to look down at himself. His body was always strange to him – drifting somewhere between ‘I could audition for Jack Skellington’ and ‘definitely has never turned down a cookie,’ but neither of which were really great for being able to hold his alcohol. He made an effort, these days, to not drink so much, but the consequences of that were that he couldn’t hold more than a few drinks. “I think Kiran owes me one anyway,” he said with a nod, picking up the shot glass with amber liquid. He lifted the glass, and downed the shot, following it with a sharp sigh from the sting from the first one. It would dull by the time he got to number two. Nash and Andy had been friends for long enough that he knew there was a reason for this, that there were things she wasn’t telling him – but maybe they needed a few more drinks before she’d be ready to spill. “Usually I’d say slow and steady wins the race, but fuck it,” he said, downing another shot. “But how many drinks we gotta go through before we talk about what’s really goin’ on? Just wonderin’ how long I should tell my girlfriend I’ll be out.”

“You’re not the boss?” Waylon didn’t know much about the Herald, honestly, but Nash was easily the most passionate about it. He assumed he took over the lead by now. “Well, hell, you should be. Yaxley hasn’t retired yet? If he thinks 12 basket auction stories are what readers want – think it’s about time he goes.” He was a subscriber on and off for as long as he could remember, he didn’t care too much about this stuff, but he knew Nash did. He figured he could be supportive. “You’re the big time, then. Makes sense. Pretty sure I read a few of your stories, got a better vocabulary than most of us around here. Good you don’t have any regrets though, that stuff eats away at you.” He noted. “Eh, I was a mailman for a bit. Too much walkin’ and people expect you to be friendly. Didn’t think that was part of the job description, but it’s an unwritten rule around here, it seems. Other than that, I’m a man in the garbage.”

It was, surprisingly, a question Nash got a lot. “Not yet.” He often teased his boss that he was the face of the damn paper, Jackson might as well give it up, but the old man swears he has a few more years in him. Nash shook his head. “I even threw him a retirement party once – tried to call a gentle suggestion, but the guy would have nothing of it.” That response elicited a chuckle from Nash, glad he could finally hop off his guard. “You think I haven’t told him that? But the Herald has been covering every angle of the basket auction for 45 years, Gordon,” he replies, the line he’s heard over and over again since his early years working for the paper. “I’m just sayin’, things won’t be like that forever. But until then, gotta pander to the one who signs my paychecks.” Nash shrugged. “Not sure I’d call it the big time, but thank you for the compliment.” He was confident in his work, but he made an effort to be humble. “You chose a job where people wanna stay as far away from you as possible? Only thing worse is a funeral director I bet,” he said with a chuckle. “You enjoy the solitude?”