thirtccnghosts

[thirtccnghosts]

"whoa now! let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'll get you on a board one day." a laugh escapes him, letting her take his shoes off, the cool air sending chills through his toes, a gentle smile on his face as she inspects his feet. "nah, pretty sure there's a blister forming on my heel but what's new." he shrugs. the calm moment is short lived, his legs shoving off to the side, foot stomping into the metal bleacher in front of them to catch his balance. torn between a hiss from the sudden pressure and laughing, he chooses to just laugh.

"oh, please," he starts, grin turning into a smirk as he looks over at her, rolling his foot out. "you love it when I'm around, you're bored without me." he's teasing but there's a hint of knowing truth laced in his voice. "but it's okay, lucky you," he calls back. "I'm a permanent resident of this great city. you can see me all you desire."

"see? and you didn't even have to do a lutz. i've told you before, skating is way harder than whatever you do." she's teasing, though. attention parts from his gaze (she's totally not flushing at the recognition from his part) to glance at his feet; within a moment she's bringing his feet up to her lap, untiying his shoes to pull them out. "you haven't even bled, that's good." an offensive gasp slips from between her lips at his words, and she pushes his feet off her legs, hoping that would also take his balance. "skate buddy? geriatric knee? fuck you!" but the pout she's holding on is not going to last long, is it? it hardly ever does when he's around. "this makes me glad you're just passing through new york, so i don't have to deal with your annoying ass for longer."

[thirtccnghosts]

The holidays often meant a lot of add on cases. People traveling, problems that were ignored surfacing and then needing immediate attention, and of course: short staffing. She rolls out her neck and checks her watch to make sure she's actually breaking ontime, the shift having been a blur so far. Thankfully, she's only been gone two minutes. "Sweet Christ." She breathes out, sinking further into the cafeteria chair, feet kicked up to take the pressure off them. Her head rolls over to the familiar face, a grin playing on her lips as she reads the note. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, pushing herself into a proper sitting position. "Fuckin, god." Olivia grumbles, typing out her own response. My unit sure would. The OR has been a shit show all day... All month.. ED any better?.

Who: Olivia ( @thirtccnghosts ) Where: Hospital Cafeteria

Only a few hours into one of his longer shifts, Elliot was in need of coffee. The strongest that he could get his hands on, which unfortunately meant he would just have to make do with whatever the cafeteria had on hand. Not having enough time to run out somewhere, knowing the closer it got to Christmas, the more tourists seemed to pop out of nowhere. So with his cafeteria coffee in hand and a moment to actually breathe, he let his eyes wander around the room. Grinning when he saw Olivia at a table not too far off, making his way over to where she was sat, taking a seat across from her as he grabbed for his phone. Do you think anyone would notice if we went home instead of going back to do our actual jobs? He had typed on his notes app, grinning as he turned his phone around so she could read it, going in for a drink of his much too hot coffee but too impatient to wait.

[thirtccnghosts]

"You'll get it! I promise, it never gets less scary, you just get more comfortable being scared." He reassures the adolescent as she slowly cruises next to him, her pink board a stark contrast against the gray concrete and gray sky. She mumbles a yeah before seeing her mother and thanking him, skating off towards her. Kacey follows suit, giving the ecstatic mother a breakdown of their session before heading off, his afternoon finished and now wondering how he's supposed to fill his day.

The slopes aren't ready, Red Bull: Natural Selection isn't until January, and his comp board is out for repairs anyway. He sighs, sliding his phone out and sending out a couple texts before turning his attention back to the path, head tilting a bit at the familiar face, foot coming down to glide the board to a stop. Elliott. He reached out to a Kindergarten teacher he hooked up with to learn a few things, at least enough to have basic conversation. He hoped. "Hey stranger." He speaks, eyes looking off to the side as he thinks and hands coming up. "How... Are you?" He makes the gesture and his gaze comes back, a little unsure and his fingers clunky, but they have phones in case they get lost in translation.

Who: Kacey ( @thirtccnghosts ) Where: Williamsburg

The Olympics was one of those things that Elliot never paid much attention to, that was until his sister was in them. Leading him to watch and follow along with them more than he would have once did years ago. So the first time he saw Kacey around the neighborhood, he was a bit surprised but also didn't want to bother the man. Never wanting to be that kind of person. But as time went on, he saw him around more and more, assuming that he lived somewhere nearby. And started to strike up conversation with him here and there, and today was no different. In much need of fresh air, he gathered his two dogs, leaving Sawyer at home with his sister. Starting off on a light jog down the block which slowed down as he saw the other up ahead. Already raising a hand in greeting as he went to grab for his phone, typing as he approached him. Hey- How's things going?

[thirtccnghosts]

@4ftermidnights (kacey and cece in their younger days)

[thirtccnghosts]

she gasps, reaching over and playfully smacking his arm. "tyson." she warns, but there's a smile accompanying the rosy tint now spreading across her cheeks. micah clears her throat, swirling what's left of her now watered-down mocktail. "that is. i feel like this place really could capitalize on your behavior sometimes."

"I'd love nothing more than to hear you screaming just for me," Tyson smirks, unable to led a golden opportunity just pass him by, a mild eye-roll soon following at mention of his one time TikTok infamy, "It did. I had to recreate it a couple of times, which was kinda funny."

@thirtccnghosts

[thirtccnghosts]

he rolls his eyes at the comment, but that doesn't stop the laugh from bubbling out. "I sure was, and not gonna lie, that was hard work. my ankles hurt..." her mention of their last dance cuts his thoughts. the memory of a broken shirt, a sweaty night club in Tokyo, and multiple missed calls from his PR gal. it does put a smile on his face, holding her gaze for a moment before looking back to the rink.

"you're right, you did. if I had known you were gonna be here I would've waited. would've grabbed you one of those skate buddies so your geriatric knee wouldn't be mad." he jokes, nudging her leg with his own knee.

"you've got time for me? lucky me," she repeats his own words in a mockery of his deeper tone, now letting a grin of her own cover her lips — for a moment only. she raises her eyebrows, refusing the urge to grab at his arm, and instead giving his forearm a nudge. "you were skating just now? and i missed it? that's so shitty. you owe me a medley, at the very least. i danced when you asked last time." considering it's been over two years now, perhaps she should have played as if she's all forgotten about going clubbing together, but cecilia never knows how good she is at playing coy, especially with him.

[thirtccnghosts]

micah gets comfortable, elongating her spine hands resting and relaxed in her lap as she lets him speak. there's nothing but sympathy on her face, able to feel the pain and forlorn emotions radiating off him. it makes her own throat tighten, and she moves her breathing to her stomach to help keep her own body and mind relaxed and open. it's not about you. she reminds herself, nodding a bit.

a hum as she takes it all in, letting his words settle and ring in the air a she thinks of what she can do to help. "well, if you're looking to be still you're in the right place. uhm... we can try a guided, mindfulness meditation session, see if anything that can help you sit with your emotions? make them a little less intense feeling?" she suggests, pressing her lips together. "we can also do a like... it's called Progressive Relaxation? It's a type of practice where you tense one muscle at a time, and connect your mind to the muscle. The theory is the awareness helps you release and relax." just in case he doesn't want to sit with his emotions, and he just wants to relax.

Theo let out a quiet, grateful sigh as he settled onto the cushion she had pointed to, feeling the soft hum of the studio’s calm energy begin to wash over him. He ran a hand through his hair, still feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say, all the tension he’d been carrying. “Honestly, I’m not even sure what I’m looking for,” he admitted, the words coming out a little more raw than he intended. He set the cup down, his gaze momentarily shifting to the floor before meeting her eyes. “It’s just… there’s a lot of noise in my head. Stuff I can’t turn off. I’ve tried distracting myself, but the more I do, the more it feels like I’m running from it, y’know?”

Theo leaned back a little, his shoulders loosening as he sank into the quiet space, trying to shake off the feeling of being pulled in a hundred different directions. “Maybe I just need to sit with it. I don’t know. I guess I’m hoping this place has a way to make the noise quieter… even if it’s just for a minute.” He paused, biting his lip as he thought about what he’d just said. "I didn’t really come here expecting... a quick fix. But I guess I'm asking for some help remembering how to just be still?"

[thirtccnghosts]

"Hey, it's called job security. It's a win-win for everyone!" He chuckles adding another shrug. Kacey never had been good at not doing as he was told, and sometimes he wondered when it would bite him in the ass. But for now everything was fine. At least he hoped it was. "There's nothing wrong with water! It's good for you!" He protests with a laugh. "I've been doing mocktails, though. It felt weird drinking alone, what are you drinking? Let me get you a drink! Tell me what's been going on!" He waves him over to sit at the table he'd been settled at, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Out of trouble, huh?” Theo raised an eyebrow with a mock skeptical look. “That’s what you say, but you know I’m not buying it.” He playfully punched Tyson on the shoulder before letting the lighthearted moment linger. “You’re too good at keeping those lawyers busy, aren’t you?” Theo leaned against the bar, signaling to the bartender with a casual nod, his usual confidence returning now that the awkwardness of the silence had been broken. “What’s your poison tonight? And please, for the love of god, don’t tell me it’s water. I’ll never let you live that one down.”

[thirtccnghosts]

her eyes narrow, tongue toying with her molars as she lets him go off on her. there are so many arguments that run through her mind like so when I do it it's a problem, but when someone else is shitty it's fine? so it's fine when carmen comes crying to her at 2am but not when it's to theo? they'd been on the same page prior to the holiday and now suddenly he's mister high and mighty? but he calls her Liv and that stops all the bitterness in her head.

it's a dead giveaway he's not actually present in their conversation, or if he is he's still miles away on something else. no one calls her Liv. she hates the nickname and everyone knows that.

slowly she nods, clicking her tongue and taking one more sip before gingerly setting her own glass down. "okay, I'll bite," she clears her throat, looking at him once more. "what's going on?" her voice is softened but stern, and it's genuine. obviously something was bothering him and as much as she wanted to tell him to not be a dick and stop projecting onto her, it was a moment to choose her words carefully and show up for her friend.

Theo’s eyes flicked over to Olivia, his jaw tightening as she ranted, the bitterness in her tone rubbing him the wrong way. He wasn’t in the mood for any more of the “save Carmen from herself” speeches, not after everything he’d been through lately. He set his glass down a little too forcefully, the clink of it against the table louder than he intended. “Yeah, I’m hearing you,” he said, his tone sharper than usual, “but don’t you think you’re jumping the gun a little? I mean, maybe Carmen knows exactly what she’s doing, even if we don’t get it.”

Theo ran a hand through his hair, frustration rising in him as he glanced at Olivia. “And I get it, okay? You care about her, you think she could do better—hell, I think she could do better. But you ever think maybe she wants to be with someone like him, even if we don’t think he’s good enough? People do weird shit, Liv. They settle sometimes. But maybe she’s not settling, maybe she’s just making a choice that works for her right now.” He paused, letting that sink in, his eyes meeting Olivia’s. "You can’t save someone who’s not asking for saving."

[thirtccnghosts]

The idea that someone thought she was the nice one in the duo sent her spiraling. Olivia was a lot of things; nice wasn't usually the descriptor people chose. It puts a soft smile on her face as she works on her clay. "All the way through? Please." She laughs, shaking her head. "State your case. I'm very interested to know what puts you of all people on the naughty list. I need to know the criteria; going to bed past your bed time? Putting salt in the cookies? Not brushing your teeth after breakfast?" She teases with a snicker.

There was a laugh of Mila's that penetrated the air as she shook her head. To her, this conversation was jovial - a total 180 from the business conversations she's been having all week long. It was nice, like a breath of fresh air. Maybe that's why she brought up the question. "C'mon, you have to have an idea on if I've been naughty or nice." Her eyes shot over from her vase to the other's. At this point, she was just going with the flow of the clay as opposed to working against it with her perfectionism. "Me? Nice?" Mila practically gasped. "If anything, you're the nice one. I'm just naughty all the way through."

[thirtccnghosts]

It's weird how easily they seem to slip back into old patterns, and he wonders if that's even healthy. Part of him doesn't think so, part of him doesn't want to think too much about it but there is a sense of guilt that settles into his stomach as she rejoins him by the dough.

He cleans up a bit, throwing some stuff into the trash that they no longer needed, palms resting against the counter as he waits for her verdict only to have a tacky dot of cookie dough stuck to his nose now. "Excuse you." He laughs, swiping some flour off the counter and flicking it at her, a playful challenge.

Mila was getting the cookie cutters out, when the familiar voice flooded her brain and made her remember that Kacey was actually in her apartment. Her heart randomly fluttered and it caused her to shoot up to her feet almost suddenly.

"It's okay, because I'm a baker." The brunette noted, finding it endearing that he was taking making sugar cookies so seriously. She didn't mind the mess - used to sharing the apartment with a few others who tend to not be the most tidy of sorts.

She moved over so that she could see how the dough was coming along in the bowl beside him. She took a perfectly manicured finger and swiped a tiny bit of the dough off the rim of the bowl before playfully booping it onto his nose with a smile. "I agree - the dough seems like it's coming along."

[thirtccnghosts]

"You are here, and that definitely counts for a lot." Maybe it was just the lifestyle, maybe it was just the way he was raised, but Kacey had a tendency to live every day as if he'd never experience it again. When you live your life three minutes and thirty seconds at a time, you tend to make the most of everything. And that's what he does here.

He takes her in, letting the feeling of warmth form a glow on his own face as he leads her around, the song just a hum in the background. Kacey listens thoughtfully, a short laugh as she speaks and a thoughtful nod. "Fair enough. I guess we've long outgrown slow dancing. But it has always been my favorite." He notes giving her a little, slow spin.

"My mother is a big dancer." He admits as he pulls her back in.

She couldn't dismiss the beauty of the city around them. Sometimes, it was naturally easy for her to take the city for granted; A very human thing to do. But, for this moment, she was entirely locked-in. Kouvr let out a warm laugh as the other put on some theatrics over her reaction. "Oh, hush you." It was a gentle pat on his back, "I'm here, aren't I?" A brow of hers arched in a way to say not to take the moment for granted. Unlike the city, the blonde wasn't set-in-stone.

She would have to leave, eventually. A fact she didn't want to dwell on. As Kacey asked her another question, she silently thanked him for changing the subject in her mind. "Not necessarily slow dancing. But, if you get me on the dance floor at a club - there's no stopping me."

There was something intimate about slow dancing that the Murphy woman tended to avoid. But, being there with one of her closest friends leading them, she wasn't so afraid or awkward about it. "You're surprisingly really good at this." Kouvr mentioned in a sort of awe at how they glided across the floor.

[thirtccnghosts]

The question has his mind spinning, a lopsided grin on his face and tilt of the head as he waits for the punchline before the stupid remark leaves his mouth. A laugh follows, head falling back and he shakes his head. "I'll jingle your bells." A middle school quip before he continues. "I can't sing to save my life, so RIP to your ears, but you did it to yourself."

closed for: @thirtccnghosts / kacey rhynor

where: timeout market

"How warm are those pipes of yours?" Tyson asks, gesturing to Kacey's general throat area, watching his face to see if he could get an inkling to how many filthy places his mind snowboarded to at his deliberately chosen verbiage before he clarifies why he was asking, "I signed you up for Christmas caroling and you can't get out of it. I'm ready to see you jingle some bells."

[thirtccnghosts]

reckless || a kacey exploration desc: in which events that lead to kacey's insane sense of justice and what happened at the 2018 Winter Games collide. second person pov.

tw: this content alludes to/has has mentions of sexual harassment, assault, corny writing lol

i. 

You are born for the cold. You can read the ground like the back of your hand and like a gift from the heavens, you claim the mountainside as a birthright. But you are also hot-headed, ice melts beneath you as you carve it into a fine line, a sense of justice instilled from your father, you always knew despite owning the earth below you, it was still sacred. 

That’s to say, it’s for everyone.

ii. 

You’re twelve when your sense of right and wrong is solidified. A quiet night with new snowfall starting to coat the roads, you and your father stop at the pac out, cheap burgers, and today’s extra special because he lets you get a milkshake. You assume it’s him trying to keep you placated through his divorce, but you appreciate it all the same. Hushed tones turn to arguing turns to yelling in the parking lot and hitting the hood of a car. A plead to calm down met with this is your fault others in the little shack look then look away.

But not your father. 

iii.

Your father is not a small man by any stretch. Barrel-chested and with traits built to survive hard times from his ancestors before him, he can be intimidating. But the one he’s now approaching is somehow bigger. More intimidating. Your father told you to stay seated, but as the other man grabs him by his collar, you run outside and call to him. He tells the woman to lock the car doors and yells at you to get back inside. You can see the spit fly from the other mans mouth as he continues to yell. Your father shoves him off and manages to avoid a fist to the jaw, shoving him into the brick wall of the restaurant. The red and blue lights break it up, police coming up to you and the woman and the other patrons. It’s the first time you’ve seen your father in trouble. Once they let him go you ask what he was thinking? Why didn’t he just let someone handle it? He looks to you, hand gently cupping the back of your neck.

Because I am someone.

And someone had to do something. 

iiii.

You think of this as you listen to your fellow athletes wax unpoetic about their fellow competitors. You’re not known for a short temper, but you are known for not keeping your mouth shut. For a snarl in quick quip in response to disgusting behavior. You’re not perfect, your own reputation precedes you as you check twitter and see response after response taking bets on who you have or will sleep with. There’s personal solace in the fact at least you don’t shit talk the women that you wrap in your sheets. You’re young. You got away with stripping on international television, leaked your own nudes and still got to compete. You’re invincible. Your mother and father tell you you’re pushing your luck, so does your exhausted publicist. You tell them it’s fine. 

Besides, you’ve never done anything totally unforgivable.

v.

You tell your teammates to shut the fuck up. To have a little respect for their fellow athletes. They roll their eyes and grumble under their breath. Indignant arguing before you decide to wander and watch the games from somewhere else, somewhere a little more quiet. It’s then you catch Ryan and Elena. Well. You catch Ryan. Her back against a wall, eyes wide, his anger echoing in the hallway only hushing when your footsteps let him know you’re watching. Eyebrow raised you ask just what the fuck he thinks he’s doing and he sneers. She takes the opportunity to hurry away, leaving the two of you alone before he takes the stale silence as a cue to exit.

Elena tells you later she’s fine. He just scared her. He grabbed her a little too hard. She also tells you she’s not the only one. She asks you to not make a big deal of it. That once the games are over it won’t matter. You just tell her it’ll be okay.

You promise.

vi. 

You want to keep your word, you really do. And you try. For Elena, and Hannah, and Lacey, and Anna, and Z’s sake, you grit your teeth and stay silent when Ryan’s in the room. At least, until after your run. You’re at the bottom of the hill. You’ve finished. You survived and thrived another comp. But you just see him at the stand, unable to take a hint. To keep his hands to himself. And you see everyone whisper but do nothing. And someone has to do something. 

And you are someone.

vii. 

You’ve never been violent. But you are in the cold, on your own turf with the snow underneath you, the cold runs through your veins as your fist connects with his jaw. The slush cuts your skin as you tumble to the ground with him, team members and other competitors pulling you away from each other. You’ve never felt anger like this, and you aren’t sure you want to again. It makes you feel sick, it makes you feel the icy sting of the cold. 

It paints you as someone you’re not.

viii.

You recount this in a lawyer's office, NDA set before you, it’s not the first it won’t be the last but they seem to matter less and less the older you get. Who are they to tell you what you can and cannot say? Even as you argue but eventually concede, ink stained scribble on the straight, narrow, line a bitter reminder of the reality, the only question remains;

What did he say to you?

You snort, pushing the neatly starched paper across the glossy dark oak surface. You ask if it really matters anymore. 

viiii. 

It’s the only thing anyone asks you. Videos show that you just snapped. You’re asked this question on the slopes, at the skate parks, in interviews, and even by your friends. The vile nature of it all stains your tongue bitter and you usually just wave it off, but it repeats in your head every time. 

I’ll do whatever I want with who I want. 

x. 

Maybe skin is a language you’re fluent in, and maybe your reputation follows you in the darkest of clubs to the coldest of peaks, but your hands only know how to be soft and steady. At least they used to. The phrase repeats on a loop and sinks your stomach further each time. From someone had to do something the depths of your core developed a new mantra, one that you adopted not only for competitors who think they can do what they want but for those in power who think they can get away with anything, who think they’re the untouchable ones. 

I’d love to watch you try and bully me.

[thirtccnghosts]

i love being kind i hope that never leaves me

[thirtccnghosts]

ONE TREE HILL 7x09 | Now You Lift Your Eyes to the Sun

[thirtccnghosts]

the gentle smile is replaced with a shit-eating grin, shrugging and plopping down next to her. "for you?" a faux scoff. "i got time." he finishes with a lazy shrug. and even if he didn't he'd make time. it had become a habit in their timeline of... whatever it is they do. whether rearranging his interviews to cheer her on, getting on a different bus, or forgoing other activities so they can have those final five minutes together, it just seemed natural. "lucky me you didn't watch me eat shit earlier then, shame for you, truly." he notes, tucking his hands away into his pockets.

"i mind very much." comes right away, with a quip, as she looks at kacey approaching as he does. cecilia fights off a grin growing on the corner of her lips as that annoying flutter in her heart comes alive at his proximity, not truly a novelty when it comes to kacey and their infrequent meetings. "you're robbing me of the opportunity to see if you actually have talent other than to throw yourself on the snow face-first." nevermind she has not actually seen him do that — a point of annoyance because he is that good. "but sure, stay for a while. can you do that or you have somewhere else to be?"