life's so fun !

" yes, absolutely. I understand your concerns. " the brunette balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, one hand gripping a rolling clothing rack as she hurried through the hallway. customer service voice remained perfectly intact. smooth. pleasant. practiced. " I'll see what I can do on my end and get back to you shortly. " a beat, disconnection. " shit. " the curse left under her breath as she lowered the phone. frustration flashing across her features for exactly two seconds before she was moving again. orbs swept the hallway. locked. " you. yes, yes, you. come here. " she didn't wait for confirmation. didn't wait for permission, either. one hand immediately latched onto their arm while the other kept hold of the clothing rack. " emergency, okay ? " already dragging them along. " I need you to try these on right now. " explanation rattled off as she maneuvered both them and the rack toward a vacant dressing room. a shoulder shoved the door open. " and let's manifest the hell out of this working because otherwise we're going to have to get especially creative here... how do you feel about light nudity in like an artistic, we don't have another option kind of way ? " a pause as she thrusted some hangers in their direction. " okay, no never mind. don't need to answer that yet but maybe consider your thoughts as you change. "  @silkchvffon ✦

HE'S BEEN DOING HIS BEST to mirror his teammates and the way they move in the world outside of the court. embry still feels like the awkward kid in a one - bedroom apartment with limbs too long for him to work out how to use unless it was with a basketball in his hands — like someone somewhere made a mistake, put him in a jersey and on a payroll. he feels at home on court. it's off of it that has become a bigger issue than he'd anticipated. media training aside, embry has decided it's better he keeps his mouth shut as much as possible in order to not embarrass himself, but as he's shoved around by naina he attempts to put up a weak protest. would be a lot easier to do if he wasn't kind of scared of her though. « emergency ? » he echoes, hopelessly stumbling along, hand shooting out automatically to grab the hangers as they hit his chest. « what ? i'm not getting naked, miss varma, » he weakly intercepts, but he's nothing if not obedient, and it seems to be a matter of urgency. he gets into the dressing room and into the outfit she's presented him with, stepping out of the room awkwardly. « i'm missing a shirt. » not to mention the pants are too tight and he can't even buckle them. « kinda lukewarm about the nudity - idea now. »

brows pinched together in a reaction that vaguely resembled confusion. " what do you mean ? just quit. " the words flowed off him entirely genuine. not sarcastic. not teasing. genuine. because as far as he was concerned, the solution seemed painfully obvious. " you hate your boss anyways. " as if that settled that. like there wasn't possibly any other factor worth considering here. he shifted further back against the couch cushions, one leg tucked beneath himself as he continued studying the other. his band had exploded so fast that reality had stopped functioning properly months ago. tour buses. sold out shows. cities blurring together. enough money that he didn't really check his bank account anymore. so to him, at this point, the answer really was that simple. " if you're really that concerned about work — we can find you something on tour. " @silkchvffon ✦

INCREDULOUS GAZE IS RETURNED to arlo, one eyebrow raised. « quit and do what ? starve ? » atlas huffs, but it's hard to even feign annoyance when everything he feels around arlo these days is an immense sense of pride. he still remembers tagging along to band practices in a mouldy garage, handing out flyers to random people unfortunate enough to be in his vicinity whenever the band had scored a gig somewhere. it had felt fulfilling; like he was part of something bigger. it feels odd that this is all happening without him, even though it shouldn't — he's not part of the band, after all. instead he's stuck here, in this town, working its only clinic with coworkers all on the verge of becoming pensioners. he's not littered with other options though. his only talent is that pets seem to like him. « what on earth would i even do, arlo ? fetch items on your riders ? feed you grapes ? » there's a teasing lilt to his voice covering the bitterness that is surprising even to him. it's hard to leave, but much harder to be the one who stayed behind.

♡ greta onieogou via instagram ( vipersfilm )

1x06 | “The One With The Butt”

          his bored gaze scanned the entirety of the room. one rich asshole after another rubbing elbows and seeing who could win in their useless pissing contest. typical. nathan was only there to appease his mother’s incessant nagging for the past month and a half. had he been dodging her calls ? absolutely. here he was. standing in the one perfectly tailored tuxedo he uses for these kind of outings with his family. his fingers gingerly holding onto the glass tumbler while taking notice of who had just walked into the room — dj anderson. she’s a lovely girl, nathan. one that anyone would be lucky to have as a daughter - in - law. of course. and it just so happens that the path she is walking on is towards the same table his mother pointed out to him earlier. might as well get it over with, he thinks to himself.           “ anderson, ” he muses coolly, setting his tumbler on the table next to his name tag. “ and get arrested by your loving parents ? the same ones that would probably ask you what you did for me to do such a thing ? ” trust him to have already thought of asking her to do the same thing to him, she had just beat him to it. “ let me guess. they called you for forty days and forty nights to beg you to come to this. then didn’t tell you a damn thing about it but told you to dress to impress ? now they’re off doing god knows what ... but trust them to have someone in the crowd to get pictures of us tonight to frame our budding romance. how close am i ? ”

SHE WANTS NOTHING TO DO with this world anymore, but is unable to leave it behind if she wants to reap the benefits of being an anderson — and despite her own hypocrisy she knows leaving would only make her carry a different kind of guilt around. she flutters around in her confined space, the absurd rules her parents have drawn in exchange for some semblance of acceptance. and a golden cage is still a cage. she hums a reply to his greeting, eyes fixed straight ahead on some distant point rather than to her side where he towers next to her. even this proximity infuriates her, and the mere thought of their parents's insistent and seamlessly tireless attempts of building a bridge that will doubtlessly flood makes her want to both cry and laugh. « i don't know, i don't see any loving parents here, » she mutters, forcing her gaze to lift towards him. he knows her too well. yet another thing that gets under her skin, though indulging in a fist fight wouldn't be very lady - like. besides, he'd win. « close. i think it was closer to fifty days and i did not get to choose my own attire, » she sighs, tugging at the fabric of her dress again, a vintage piece her mother had sworn up and down would do wonders for her figure. dj hates that she wasn't wrong, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. « dad is probably doing his secretary in the kitchen. i wouldn't eat if i were you. » there's no need to sugarcoat this reality. glance moves down his frame, then up again so fast a blink would've made someone miss it. he cleans up well. even this angers her. « it's one night. we'll smile and wave at the cameras and then i go back to pretending you don't exist for another two months. works wonders. » until one day when it won't be enough anymore — they both know that.

          it was impossible. training the past few days where his arm felt like it’s being put through the ringer has been an absolute nightmare. even now, with rio doing his best to help with the dull ache in his shoulder. “ ease up on my arm, then, ” he breathes out, gritting his teeth once the pressure went further down his arm. now was definitely not the time for his heart to act like some trapped bird in a cage either. what a heady mixture. vincent looked anywhere but at his best friend, trying to breathe through all of this really. if he wasn’t careful, with just one wrong move ... no. he can’t think of how close their faces would be because that would make him go down a rabbit hole of how it’d feel to kiss him. “ tight still. it’s, uh, better. i just don’t know why it’s been acting up recently. i do all of the conditioning needed ... stretches, work outs, post game stuff with you and the staff. but ... i don’t know. be real with me, rio. should i be worried ? ”

HE CARES FOR ALL OF THEM, feels personally responsible for every ache on their bodies — which is absurd, but inevitable in this line of work. he still remembers the ache of his own accident like a fresh wound, how betrayed he felt by his own body when his doctor told him he'd never run properly again. he'd put that dream on the shelf in order to curate a new one, and he has it — has the sport in his peripheral vision at all times. has nathan. has vincent. « sorry, » he muses sheepishly, sending the other man an apologetic smile though one hand lingers on his shoulder, the warmth of the other's skin grounding. he's trying to remove his gaze from vincent's eyes, tries to look anywhere else, but it's futile. how can he ever look elsewhere when vincent's here ? « no, i don't think so. you do need rest though. doctor's orders. » he lets his hand glide down the other's arm absentmindedly. « i'm gonna send you some exercises you need to be doing with a teammate. or ... » he inhales sharply, « with me. we're gonna get that arm back in order, don't worry. we'll winter soldier it. you'll be invincible out there. »

          he’d forgotten that there were people surrounding them tonight. despite the bass moving through their bodies, loud chatter from those around them. it felt like they were in their own little world. with his hands on her body, his own body attempting to keep up with her. everything in him told him to keep her as close to him as possible. he’d forget where she began and he ended. apparently though, all good things come to an end. “ huh ? ” he replies, finally breaking out of whatever trace she put him under. “ so ? ” fuck. “ i mean, yeah, sorry. he’s at the tables now. ” if he were a better man, he’d walk away from all of this now. the look of disdain on scott’s face was enough for his ego to be fed. but her ? to have her in every moment like this ? it was worth it to sit here and endure it for a little longer. he thought that she felt the same. that they were moving away from this bit of theirs. “ but does it really matter ? that he’s not looking anymore ? ”

THERE'S A LINE DRAWN somewhere between them, but dean lost sight of it long ago and it's sending her into a spiral. this was supposed to be fun and easy — kit is nothing like the men she's used to and she'd told herself it was a good thing: that she would break out of old patterns, keep him at an arm's length. but he climbs every wall as she builds them, inching closer to some part of herself that no one gets to see anymore. soft, warm, vulnerable. « yes, kit. of course it fucking matters, » she hisses, but her hands are still in his hair, her lipstick still staining his lips. he looks beautiful like this and it makes her want to scream. « you promised. » promised that this — whatever this is — would never be more than a game. that there would be no feelings, no semblance of love. and now he's tiptoeing on the outline of her heart. « can we not have this conversation here ? »

          pick up dinner, get home, take a hot shower, eat, then sleep. five things to do. five things that stayed the same after a clean up job for her associates. that is, if fate could hold it together and follow along with what she wanted. tonight was anything but that. their order was all messed up on top of it being cold. one big ding to her night. it was curious though. the closer she got to her apartment, the stronger the smell of ... roast ? “ reyna ? ” breaking and entering ... with dinner ? there could be worse things that happen. surely, to any normal person, red flags and alarms would be raised. not mali though. she’s witnessed stranger things in her life. one thing she adds onto ignoring for tonight is the warmth she feels lingering in her stomach. “ i have an impeccable security system. all of which ... you’ve managed to get into. maybe you’re just that good. ” praise – something they hardly ever give out. she shrugs off her work top, placing it into the bin by the front door. “ so why are you here ? helping yourself to my apartment and my wine ? ”

SHAME IS SOMETHING LEARNED and reyna never did. her education took the shape of sharp objects against vulnerable spots on the human body, the art of seduction and touches that leave men heaving for more. men are simple though — hungry creatures who take what they are given out of habit, who flail when it's taken away from them. they are predictable, and reyna is bored. she has never once found mali boring though, and it's why she keeps coming back like a boomerang. she knows she may have crossed a line, that there's a chance mali will cuss her out and refuse her company, but no high reward without high risk. « about time you noticed, » she beams, handing them the glass. « i did bring the wine myself, mali. i'm not an animal, » she huffs, though history may suggest otherwise. « well, i just remembered on tuesday when i came by your office you mentioned today would be long for you. i figured maybe i could try to make it easier on you. » and for a woman as cunning and deceiving as reyna, it is mostly the truth — and if it guises as a date that is only a plus. « i hope you're hungry. i made extra so you'll have leftovers. »

          a hum passes through her lips as she accepts the glass of amber liquid. her hair in complete disarray, clothes practically hanging off of her shoulders from being thrown around the motel room. the names of each person in that room that wasn’t from their syndicate engraved into her memory. though, the thought of them only worsened the headache that was hammering into the base of her skull. “ doesn’t really feel like it though. you got blood all over you, and my body feels like it got thrown around in a dryer. ” the burn of the alcohol down her throat temporarily dulls the ache. she dragged her eyes slowly down his body, watching for any traces of blood blooming on his clothes. “ that blood is all them, right ? you’re not hiding a wound from me ? ”

ANGER ONLY EVER TAKES THE shape of a bomb ready to detonate when it comes to sawyer. he's always been like this — a clenched fist waiting for its next victim, a blade looking for skin to pierce. darya both calms his storms and inspires the worst of them. there's not enough blood in the world to ever set right all the ways life has done her dirty. he will never have enough power to ensure her safety completely. « i'm fine, » he confirms, rolling his head to release tension. adrenaline is wearing off and there’s a faint ache by his abdomen, the familiar sting of a shallow knife wound. nothing fatal or painful enough for him to care. « are you ? they didn’t touch you, did they ? » he takes a tentative step towards her, hand brushing away her hair to cup her behind her neck gently. if they've hurt her, he'll find a way to revive them only to kill them again.

continued from here for @silkchvffon / it's selfish, but seina's relieved when candice agrees to stay. the kindness in her touch is more than she deserves, and she feels guilty accepting it. "you don't have to, you know." she tries to give her one last out as her eyes flicker to hers, hand staying put with candy's. "i'm sure you have better things to do than take care of me." only seina would find a way to make someone's grace sound like obligation.

IT NEEDS TO STOP, but candice doesn't know how to or if she'd even want it. seina's melancholy is eating at her and she doesn't know how to stop any more than candy knows how to leave. « i know. but i want to, » she assures the other, her free hand brushing through seina's hair. « what can i do to make you feel better ? » there's nothing, there never is, but admitting that feels too much like defeat.

practice.  it  was  such  a  common  theme  in  his  life,  such  a  common  word,  that  he  wouldn't  have  been  surprised  if  it  had  been  his  first  word,  or  maybe  it  was  the  first  word  he  remembered  his  father  telling  him.  it  was  more  present  than  any  words  of  love  and  support.  he'd  always  worked  harder.  practiced  harder.  most  days,  he  didn't  know  how  he  kept  the  wide  smile  on  his.  it  didn't  falter,  though,  not  when  he  entered  the  room  to  see  arlo  still  there.  arlo  was  someone  jeremiah  couldn't  figure  out.  he  was  just  as  good  –  if  not  better  than  him.  always  so  poised.  too  poised.  a  model  athlete.  "you  looked  a  little  tense  out  there  today…  and  more  than  usual,"  he  said,  making  his  presence  known,  “everything  good?”  jeremiah  made  his  way  to  him,  the  natural  curiosity  he  had  for  the  brunette  ever-growing.  “you  know,  i'm  sure  it  would  be  good  for  the  team  too  if  you  loosened  up  a  bit,  had  some  fun  now  and  again.”

HE HAS TO GET IT RIGHT, every single time. he has to get it right until it's impossible to get it wrong, and if he stops for a moment too long to let exhaustion settle he's not sure he'll ever get through this — whatever this is. he watches the ball fly through the hoop yet again and feels no sense of accomplishment or victory, only an incessant need to do it again. he'd run himself to death on this very court if not for the fact he's got company now, and arlo's head whips around to look at jeremiah, a habitual scowl appearing on his visage that the other man has not earned. « maybe you should pay less attention to me and focus on yourself. fumbling a chance for a three - pointer twice is kinda low, » he mutters as he stills in front of the other man. jeremiah seems happy to be here. arlo briefly wonders what that's like. « i'm not here to have fun, i'm here to work. i suggest you do the same. »

“ why  can't  we  go?  ”  she  moves  her  thumb  over  his  knuckle,  her  voice  taking  on  a  small,  persuasive  heat.  “ there  will  be  many  people  on  the  beach.  it  won't  hurt  to  get  out  and  see  other  faces.  i  don't  want  you  to  get  sick  of  looking  at  me  already.   in  fact,  why  don't  we  go  tomorrow ? ”  she  asks,  her  eyes  wide  as  she  leans  her  face  closer  to  his  cheek.  “ married  couples  go  to  the  water  just  because  it  is  a  tuesday.  why  can't  we  do  that?  we  must  have  other  activities  if  they  really  want  us  to  embody  this  new  identity.  we  might  as  well  have  our  fun  while  the  money  is  there.  think  of  it  as  a  free  vacation .” she  lets  her  chin  rest  on  his  shoulder,  her  hair  spilling  over  his  collarbone  in  dark,  unpolished  strands.  “ and  i  have  always  wanted  to  try  surfing.  do  you  know  how ? ”

« we can talk about that, » he agrees softly, head tilting to get a better view of her. he's assumed this new life would be confined to different sets of four walls — moving only from a house, to an office building, to a store when necessary, then back to a house. it has not even occurred to him that they can have a life here. « are you ... are you sure we can ? » there's skepticism etched onto his visage, but hope lacing his voice. « that it's safe ? » there's a murderer out there still, no matter how much finn tries to forget about it. hard to do when he still feels the blood coating his hands every day. « i would like to go though. if it is safe. » his only purpose has become to ensure jeni will never know that sort of pain again. he will protect her because he has to. she's all he has left. « i have the coordination of a toddler so i'm not sure surfing is in the cards for me. reckon you'd be quite good at it though. »

"And you can see Ryder's interested in her. If I were him, I'd snap her up before some other fellow does."

until  she  wasn’t  the  only  one  to  have  crossed  that  line,  him  doing  the  same  (probably  still  stupid)  thing  she  had  and  pressing  their  lips  together.  that  first  kiss  was  spur  of  the  moment,  driven  by  something  she  couldn’t  control.  something  that  could  easily  be  explained  away.  but  kissing  him  again?  that  felt  more  deliberate.  still  riley  chose  to  kiss  him  back.  less  hurried  this  time  around,  allowing  herself  to  lean  further  into  him  without  the  constant  whirring  of  her  mind.  without  thinking  she  crawled  into  his  lap,  straddled  one  leg  as  she  kissed  him  harder.  all  of  it  leaving  their  previous  conversation,  and  a  certain  someone  named  josh,  discarded  to  some  corner  in  the  back  of  her  mind  now.

HE BRACES HIMSELF FOR REJECTION, telling himself it won't hurt — it's riley, after all. what else should he expect ? she's leagues above him, and even if he stood a chance it would be unwise to get involved when they live together. not that that particular part concerns him much, but she's always been far more rational than him. and still, she engages, and he can only follow where she leads. his hands settle on her waist, absentmindedly toying with the fabric of her shirt until his fingers have found their way to her skin, warm underneath his touch. he's overstepping about a thousand unspoken boundaries, but his heart is racing and his mind is fuzzy and if riley isn't pulling away there is no chance hugo will. mouth opens slightly, exploring every part of her that she will let him, before he pulls back slightly, forehead pressed against hers. « are you sure ? » because he will, if she wants him.

the  image  of  bug  eating  children  her  vivid  words  conjure  into  his  mind  pulled  a  breathless  snicker  from  boaz,  the  curve  of  a  smile  lingering  as  he  looked  at  her  again.    “  they  might  pretend  not  to  notice.  because  i  think  they  would  like  you  better  than  me.  ”    which  he  wouldn’t  fault  them  for.  because  wasn’t  it  the  simplest  thing  to  fall  in  love  with  her  on  sight?  he  had  done  it  himself  countless  times  over.  in  the  elevator,  in  the  laundry  room,  in  the  hallway  as  both  of  them  left  for  work  at  the  same  time.    “  alright,  ”    boaz  laughed  then  with  a  firm  nod,  taking  mental  note  of  her  snack  preference.  and  the  way  she  managed  to  redirect  his  focus  right  back  towards  just  her.  but  had  he  questioned  her  intentions  for  even  a  second,  her  lack  of  subtlety  in  her  next  proposal  revealed  all  he  needed  to  know.    “  how  about  i  repay  the  favour?  ”    he  found  himself  suggesting,  with  even  fewer  hesitation  than  she  presented  the  offer.    “  you  can  come  over  to  mine,  and  i'll  cook  for  us  while  you  run  me  through  all  the  insider  information  i’ll  need.  ”    the  added  bonus  of  privacy,  without  running  the  risk  of  said  roommates  interrupting  in  the  midst  of  it,  might  have  been  on  his  mind  too.

THE INITIAL WARMTH STILL LINGERS despite yasemin gently attempting to chase it away. it's risky, holding onto these emotions when this man only lives across the hall, when so many things are bound to go wrong, and yet there is no other explanation for why her heart palpitates the way it does. this has always been her problem: she falls in love too hard, too fast, with the concept of a person she barely knows. but somewhere in the back of her mind something feels different this time. and tried as she has, she can't ignore it anymore. « i think you're selling yourself short, » she argues with a grin, taking a sip of her coffee. his suggestion has her beam growing impossibly larger, the tint of rose now a permanent feature on her cheeks. she couldn't be more obvious if she tried. « sure. i'd like that. » she tilts her head to one side, gazing at him intently. « and you're not going to murder me or anything ? just making sure. »