hey youngblood

         there’s no way for her to hide that she’s up          to something when she leans out the bedroom          door and shouts down the hall ––––

@shemoveslikejaeger liked for a shitty starter

               " are you looking for something? ya seem a bit lost. “

                       ❛ why do bad things happen t’good people ? not sayin’ ‘ma good person but ‘ve seen some pretty shit things happen t’some really great people. ❜

           fingertips  c u r v e  against the rim of the glass of beer, tilting it slowly to create a swirl within the glass. amber liquid creating STREAMS of bubbles having her gaze fixated on it as she speaks. it’s not often wynter opens up but the cryptic code  s p o k e n  digs deeper in.

@shemoveslikejaeger | starter call. 

           she hasn’t touched her beer at all since it was placed before            her. calloused hands are folded in front of her, resting on the             dark, sticky tabletop. she wasn’t sure what to expect when            she agreed to go for a drink; she should have known it would            be a little cryptic. she wouldn’t expect anything less. 

           instinct tells her to leave well enough alone, but her heart            begs her to dig in. she wants to offer up a shoulder, but             getting close to anyone, it’s dangerous. she’s more afraid of            that than she is staring down a wendigo.

panic! at the disco. | accepting

     “  –––– you’re really asking me? ”

         it’s not that there isn’t warmth in her eyes as she looks over         to him. after all, it was her offhand comment that started all         of this. who knew that suggesting a man buy a goldfish          could be the cause of an existential meltdown. at least that’s         how it came across to the brunette. she was a warm heart,         a heart of gold really, but there were times when she just         had no idea how to PEOPLE. it made her say things she          didn’t always mean; it made her feel BAD.

starters. | accepting

          the brunette looks at wyn and tries to ignore the fact that           she hasn’t showered in four days, or that the dark half          moons under her nails aren’t dirt but caked blood –––          the fact that she can’t remember who’s blood, or what          kind of blood doesn’t even phase her anymore. she’d           say she’s numb, but the deep ache in her bones tells          her otherwise. she’s just PROGRAMED to not care about          the gore that decorates her boots like paint splatters.          this is just LIFE. and she can HANDLE it. doesn’t mean          everyone can. she doesn’t doubt wynter.

                                  “–––– yeah. c’mon. i’ll buy. you can                                    tell me about it. “

    he’s finally getting out of the bed, the wailing is MORE than enough to drive him     out. it’s not as if he ENJOYS hearing his son cry. he just wishes that there were a      way to reserve all of the crying for the day time rather than when he was TRYING to     get some decent shut eye. it’s only fair that he & chelsea rotate who gets up for the     children. he doesn’t expect her to follow him, but he PAUSES at the doorway just to     answer her.

                  “ the HELL i can’t. i can blackmail on being one half of creating him                                             & whatever else i want. ”

       pants are not required at this time of the morning. she told her that        the first few times she tried getting dressed before BOTH babies        were wailing their heads off at the wee hour. she’s also began to        wonder when she gave birth to a two headed monster, not adorable        bouncing bundles of joy. she should have known better. still, she’s        up and trailing after him. after all, she’d like to see him try and nurse.

            his own hand comes up to PINCH the bridge of his nose. the crying is clearer             now and he can’t wait for time to jump forward to the days where they WON’T             have to hear this in the middle of the night. He just wants sleep. And her grip on             him wasn’t CONVINCING him that well to leave the bed. Despite all of this he              shifts to get out of the bed.

                            “Sounds like Sammy — that kid’s gonna owe me so much when he’s older.”

          he shifts and she can’t help but release a whine as her fingers slip           away from his form. she’s awake now, even though she’d much           rather drift back to sleep. he’s not alone in dreaming about the days           when the twins can make it through a whole night without fussing.           they’re her whole world, but she’ll sleep peacefully without 2am           feedings. the heel of her hand rubs at her eyes as she sits up.           sammy crying is a time bomb. it’s only a matter of time before           diana joins him, and then neither of them will get any sleep.