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[apathest]

mmkay idk if it’s been obvious at all (har har) but i’ve been experiencing some maaajor writer’s block. i rode it out a bit tonight but i need to go to bed like right this second bc my driver’s test is on tuesday and i work on thursday so i’ll try again tomorrow!

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kittybriar‌,

                   This had worked in the past. Kitty had seen a time when Sonny wasn’t nearly this difficult to reel in, but times change and broken boys only grow harder. Raised a particularly fickle child, Kitty was never as certain about anything as she was when choosing which of her toys to play with for the month. Like dolls, all of her lovers were all special to her until they weren’t. There was always a new doll with prettier eyes and softer lips that managed to catch her greedy little eye and distract her from the one that she was playing with.Love was a game that few were ever willing to play with her, but when they did, Kitty would always play to win. Children are allowed to be selfish in that way when they’re playing with dolls, but Kitty was no child and Sonny was the furthest thing from a doll. His anger towards her, while understood, was unsettling in a way that she never quite expected. What made this time any different than all the others before it? They weren’t that much older now than they were the last time their paths crossed one another, so what had changed? Yes, Sonny would add up another wall to guard his heart every time she came barreling back into his life, but never before had Kitty worked this hard to break through those walls. Sonny intended for the poison that dripped from his tongue to hurt her, to keep her far away from the wall of ice that concealed his bruised heart, but Kitty was never one to give up that easily. Sonny, didn’t anyone tell you that Kitty dealt in flames?

                   The very moment that her full name fell from his lips like a curse word, Kitty could feel her skin start to melt right off the bone. He was hurting and that was a sure-fire way to show her that she no longer meant anything to him. So long as Sonny only saw Katherine and not Kitty when he looked at her, she was sure that he would be able to continue icing out his heart. Kitty might have been like the elusive and mysterious wizard to the rest of oz, but Katherine was the girl the behind the curtain who worked all those pretty brass bells and whistles. Calling Kitty by her real name was the equivalent of pulling back that velvet curtain to see the fraud for what she really was. She needed him to seeonly Kitty if she had any hope of permanently replacing the bone chilling frost that coated his words with golden sunlight. Winning him over again would take some time, but Kitty was nothing if not determined. She had nothing but time in a town as small and uninteresting as Boot Hill. “I deserve that.” Kitty answered, releasing her gaze from his. She deserved to swallow every last bit of poison that he sent her way, and she would do just that. Kitty would endure his anger to show him that she cared about his feelings, that she was actually listening this time around. If making her feel small made him feel better, then she would suffer through it for him. Truthfully, Sonny was the only one that Kitty would ever suffer through it for.

                  “I’m not playing with you, Sonny. I meant what I said.” A lie. Playing games was all that Kitty Briar knew how to do. What use were real feelings when artificial ones were so much more fun? “I want you to know that I’m sorry.” Once again her hand found its way back on top of his in an attempt to draw him in. Part of her fully expected him to snatch it away from her given how disgusted he was with her, but she put all of those negative thoughts out of her mind and enjoyed the moment while it lasted. “I know you don’t believe me or even want to hear me apologize to you, but it’s the truth.” Apologies, genuine or not, were often overlooked by Kitty. Girls like her were rarely ever sorry for the choices that they made, but she felt different this time. It almost felt right to apologize to him, but she quickly suppressed that thought. Of course it wasn’t right, this was all for fun, he was for fun. Why should she feel bad about playing with Sonny when he was the one that allowed himself to be played with? Yes, that’s a much more appropriate thought for her to have. That thought justified it all. “You don’t care about what I have to say and that’s more than fair, but just let me prove it to you.” Sliding her fingers in between the spaces of his own, Kitty locked their palms together as she looked for an answer in his eyes. Let her in Sonny, she promised to be better. Her own cool blue eyes were soft and glossy, preparing for a fake flood of warm tears should he further reject her. There was no greater actress in Boot Hill than Kitty Briar when she really wanted something.

kitty briar is a heat-seeking missile, that’s all sonny can think. she knows exactly where to hurt him and twist him, how to wrap him around her fingers right when he’s finally pried himself out of her grasp. that must be why she comes back, why she doesn’t give him up even after discarding him like macclean trash time after time: he’s all too willing to be in her grasp again. even now, putting up such a fight, the fates know it’s all for naught; they must be laughing at his sorrowful display. even with a brother’s voice in his head warning him to keep up that wall, even with the ghost of finola’s soothing circles rubbed against his back each time kitty breaks his fractured heart, even with his own will screaming to keep kitty far away from himself and that fractured heart, he can feel himself weakening. how can she tire of him when he’s the one always ready to shine her throne, make his back the rightful place for her to rest her feet? could someone really tire of such devotion, of the loyalty he showed to a girl he knew didn’t deserve it? and kitty doesn’t deserve it, he knows that. alison didn’t always know, but now he does. oh, now he does.

the queen of boot hill looks more like a pitiful little girl just then, tears in her eyes and begging on her lips. i deserve that, i meant what i said, i’m sorry. from her looks and from her words, it should be so easy for his will to break. he should be so easy to slide himself back into her servant role, it sounds so true! it sounds like the truth he’s been waiting to hear for years—no, that’s been i love you. suspiciously, that’s the one that’s missing. well, perhaps not suspiciously, but regretfully. shamefully. with all that’s happened, that’s all that alison wants to hear from kitty. (that’s all alison’s wanted to hear from anyone.) her burning touch is back, but he doesn’t retract it quick as flesh meets flame. no, he keeps it there, glancing down wearily. all of it sounds so true, looks so true, but there’s something telling him not to accept it. something tells him it’s all facade, just a little vaudeville show. it’s all the times she’s done the same song and dance, only to have his heart fractured all the more in the end. it’s all the times she looked so sincere when she wanted something, only to be fucked in someone else’s bed while sonny waited on the couch for her to be done, all because she needed a ride home. that’s what it is.       the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.

maybe alison macclean has finally learned. maybe sonny is finally sane. maybe, for once, sonny has an excuse not to let her edge her way into his life again. “kitty...” his acidic tone has softened, just a little, but it carries the forewarning shake of a rattlesnake’s tail—even so, he’s dropped her formal name, back to the name that feels so natural in his mouth and not something he has to force out heavy. glancing from her glassy eyes to her heavy hand, he bites at his lower lip for a little bit of courage. when he returns his sight to her, there’s a bit of an edge there, the look of ‘i know something you don’t’. “truth is, i’m... sort of seeing someone right now.” that’s not really the truth, erika yosano has made it more than clear that boot hill, arizona (and by extension, sonny macclean) is just a stop along the way, but he likes her. it’s nice to have someone in his bed, someone to hang around. most of all, it’s nice to have someone in his life that doesn’t know everything the macclean name carries, all the history of the maccleans in boot hill, every dirty rotten thing they’ve ever done. in a town where everyone knows everything about everyone, it’s an unlikely thought. unlikely, but not impossible. sonny sighs, already so tired from just a few minutes with kitty. “so you’d have to prove it.” it’s not exactly an acquiesce, at least not in his opinion, but it carries pointed weight. “you’d have to really prove you’ve changed. you’ve got to prove you want me in your life and not as your little chew toy, alright?”

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foxglovc‌,

there’s something timeless about finola macclean who – in her flowing skirts and combat boots –always seems to belong to no tangible place, but rather a feeling in the air. the rodeo’s her stomping ground. with her pink gingham dress ( too short to let her father see ) and white knee-high cowboy boots, she’d hardly look out of place in a nineteen-fifties western. it’s the bustle of it all she loves, the burn of bodies, the cross-section of the town gathered into one concentrated area, some of them faces she rarely sees aside from brief glances through drugstore windows. so lost in her own head – and the cherry-bobbled lolly sucked by her lips – she hardly notices her brother’s approach, a coldness on the back of her neck, panic, and then nothing but stillness. “sonny…” she whispers, as it cradles her like a scarf and somehow it isn’t fear in her eyes, but a pure unadulterated rush. “if it bit me, would you suck the poison out of my neck?” she asks, one hand slowly stroking along kaleidoscope scales, the other holding the lolly to her lips. “if you couldn’t…. then, i wouldn’t mind if you let me float off, you know? easy. like sleeping.”

finola macclean is the most morbid little girl in all of boot hill. (and yes, even at the age of eighteen, finola is still just a little girl with long, blonde pigtail braids and cherubic pink cheeks to alison.) it isn’t much of a surprise, a girl raised by her older brothers but mostly raised by the ghost of a missing sister, the ever-present haunting in every corner in every room. eileen has been gone for almost twenty years, but her essence has lingered around the macclean home like she never left, not really. he knows his mother only sees eileen when she looks at finola. sometimes, alison sees it too. now, though, he only sees his baby sister. settling the snake over her shoulders, he gives the snake a quick pat as it winds itself around her. his eyes flicker from the shining scales to finola, his stare incredulous and chagrined. “it won’t bite.” but he would’ve, she must know that. if there is only one person in this world that sonny would do anything to save, lay his own life down for, it’s finola. not kitty, not pater, not even mama. as morbid as she is, alison hates the thought of death. he hates to think about his sister that never really died, but never really lived. he hates thinking about losing the only sister he has left. he doesn’t say it but his stare does: don’t talk like that. “reckon dyin’ from snake venom is probably the worst way to go.”

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yxsanos‌,

eri’s too distracted by the other snakes to notice sonny sneaking up behind her with a boa in his arms, and it’s only when he’s right behind her that she realizes there’s a fucking snake in front of her face and holy shit, that’s a really big snake. “jesus christ, sonny!” she exclaims, visibly startled but not scared. out of the corner of her eye, she spots the owner looking rather disapproving of the whole thing. he’s probably thinking these fucking kids, holding the snake wrong. “y’know, if you wanted to surprise me,” she adds, reaching out a hand to pet the snake, “a kiss would’ve been better.”

sonny’s glad he’s got a good grip on the snake, because what erika says would be enough for him to let it slip out of hands onto the dirt. if the snake’s owner is disappointed now, he’d probably rip the snake right from sonny’s hands. while the arizona february air isn’t particularly warm, he knows most of the town being there accounts for a raise in temperature; he hopes that’s a good enough excuse for the way his freckles almost seem to glow neon over the blush that spreads against his cheeks. he smirks a little, letting the snake move over his arm and meet face-to-face with erika. “what about a kiss from butterscotch instead?”

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dravcnlea‌,

Juliet was walking around looking at the all stalls that were set up in the parking lot, she was distracted and not paying attention to what was going on around her. When she caught sight of the snake in her peripheral vision she leapt back, unsure of what she’d just seen. As she realised that it was just a snake she calmed down, she had only seen snakes in zoos and seeing one free of a glass enclosure was fascinating to her. “Can I really hold it? I’ve never seen one this close before.” 

sonny has always been a fond of snakes—he wasn’t some daredevil that tried to play chicken with diamondbacks out in the desert, he left that to his various older brothers that enjoyed doing stupid shit just for a laugh, but he thinks their little beady-eyed faces and forked tongues are... cute. while he’d never consider owning one himself, especially not one of this size in a small house filled with roommates, it’s nice to see them at the rodeo every year. almost like visiting an old friend. sonny nods to the woman, nearly smiling. “yeah! he’s friendly.”

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lana-richards‌,

lana wheeled around suddenly at the shadow advancing over her head, yelping at the snake that entered her peripheral vision. “jesus christ!” a hand flew to her chest as she stumbled backwards, finally recognising the man. “alison! oh my god!” whoever she was expecting, it was certainly not him - and she had to admit, it was slightly awkward to see him again under these… circumstances.

the snake still resting contently in his hands, alison jumps back slightly once he realizes the blonde next to him isn’t finola. “oh!” he exclaims softly, fingers flexing over yellow-and-white snake. the owner tuts disapprovingly behind him and sonny carefully hands the snake back, muttering something that’s supposed to be an apology but sounds more like an embarrassed grunt. he turns back to mrs. richards, head somewhat bowing sheepishly. “sorry, mrs. richards. i thought you were my sister.” 

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* drops onto floor * i have like 34283 replies to do and 3242390 ims to respond to but i’ve got. to go to bed :///// as much as i would love to stay up, i need a good bedtime this week (even tho i’ve already broken it by an hour bc my brain hates me! thanks!) because i’m meeting up with a driving instructor twice this week and then next week i’m going for my driver’s license test so YEAH. gotta be up in the morning!! i’ll greet our new friends then!

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the ‘exotic pets’ stall is really just a few snakes (which can easily be found in the desert—granted, the snake in his hands isn’t the type to dwell in the desert) and a tarantula (which also can be easily found in the desert) provided by a local man that brings them out for the kiddies every rodeo and fair, but it’s sonny’s favorite nonetheless. never much of a cowboy himself and perpetually embarrassed by publicly dancing, it’s really his only reason for coming. lifting the snake from over his head, he mimes putting it over the other’s shoulders with a bit of a conspiratorial giggle.

[apathest]

( @yxsanos ! )

Baby (2018—) Created by Antonio Le Fosse

[apathest]

( @foxglovc ! )

the sunlight streaming through the window slats sprawl across sonny’s face, though he doesn’t stir underneath them; he’s become accustomed to sleeping during the day, the consequence of tending bar for years, a natural adaption to being awake to early dawn. it doesn’t bother him, but there’s an odd sensation of a presence in his room and it’s the reveille to finally drag him from sleep’s ever elusive clutches. sunlight no longer slated in strips like jail cell bars, instead a harsh intruder bathing the entire room with its wretched brightness, his bleary eyes only see a vague shape standing over him at the foot of his bed, peter pan’s shadow. a ghost, maybe, or the amen shrieker? it’s the the girlish form of the haunting shape that tells him it’s just finola—she must’ve come in through the window, as she was wont to do at the macclean family home—but the realization doesn’t stop his soft gasp. “shit,” sonny exclaims as he lifts his head up and tosses in the bed, “i thought you were pater.” the truth: sonny never feared she was ewan, he thought she was eileen.

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y’all i got a mountain of replies to do and ims to answer but what am i doing? starting a gif pack of harris dickinson bc i need MORE. once i’m done with that tho i’ll have loads of muse (and gifs) to crack out replies!

[apathest]

kittybriar‌,

               Sonny could certainly be cold towards everyone around him, but Kitty never considered herself to be a part of everyone. It was Sonny’s feelings for her that led Kitty to believe that she could get away with nearly everything and still be welcomed back into his good graces. It was a selfish and conceited belief, that much she would never deny. Kitty had lost count of all the times that she pretended to care for him so that he would do things for her. A slow yet simple peck of her glossy lips against his freckled cheek could buy herself a night of steady shots and an escort back to Villas Adobes at the end of the night. Holding that much power over him felt positively divine, and like a drug, Kitty couldn’t get enough of his attention. In all honesty, Sonny was well within his right to want to turn his back on her. How many times had she held his heart in her hand only to stomp into the ground with her heels? Sonny would pick it back up, brush the dirt off of it and hand it right back to her only to have her treat it like a cigarette butt. The MacClean boy was surprisingly resilient and whether he believed so or not, Kitty respected him for it. Yes, her mother was a snake and her father never bothered to be a part of her life, but that was simply child’s play considering what Sonny and his family went through. His sister, a girl that Kitty was far too young to really know was gone, and his family was a complete mess. Through all of his struggles, Sonny still managed to appear strong and capable. Not even her childish games of the heart could truly ruin him.

    ��            Kitty could feel the daggers that were being launched from both his eyes and his mouth start to become wedged into her chest. Sonny intended to show her that she no longer mattered to him, and that his feelings for her had disappeared entirely, but they both knew the truth. Sonny wanted her to believe that he had finally managed to harden his heart towards her, but Kitty Briar was never one to not see the light which seeped through the cracks on the side of his once shattered heart. One longing look or a single pull of his lips into a soft smile was enough for her to weasel her way back inside, and so that was what she waited to see from him; a way in. “Where else would I find you, Sonny? You work way too much.” Her eyes remained connected with his as she spoke softly and she wondered if he could read the words that they were trying to communicate to him. Come and play with me, Sonny. Her lashes fluttered softly as she stroked her thumb along the slopes of his dotted knuckles. He was right to question her about why she hadn’t made the first move to contact him. Actually, Kitty had forgotten that she even had his phone number but she didn’t care to let him know that. Now wasn’t the time to make him think that she didn’t care. Her mother always told her that she could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. “You’re right. I should have called. Would you have even answered if I called you?” She questioned, dropping her eyes from their place on his before quickly raising them back up. She wanted to hear him say that he missed her. Perhaps then she would know if he still cared.

                   Briefly taking her hand away from his, Kitty reached down into the folds of her purse to pull out her Phone and quickly swiped through the pictures that were stored in her library. Among a series of half edited selfies and group shots was a photo of the two of them lying in the grass with Kitty placing a kiss against his cheek. Setting her phone on the bar top, Kitty hoped that he would see the picture and remember how he felt when it was taken; how she made him feel. “Do you remember that night?” Kitty questioned him, her lips curling into a smile that failed to stifle a series of bubbly giggles that followed shortly after. “You practically carried me the entire way back to my house and then we both collapsed on my lawn. We just lied there, staring up at the stars and I caught you off guard with that kiss and the ones that came after it.” Kitty sighed deeply as she stared back at him, hoping to see even the most subtle of cracks begin to mar his armor. “We used to have so much fun together.” Kitty would do and say things like this to Sonny all of the time. One minute she was hot, pulling him and and letting him bask in her warmth and then, without warning, she was colder than he could ever imagine. Now, it was up to Sonny whether he wanted to let himself slip back into her games or not. “I do miss you, Sonny. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

you work too much. it’s a fact, an undeniable truth, but sonny feels the need to oppose everything kitty says. the real, undeniable truth: there’s nothing to do but work. selling alcohol to girls barely old enough to drink and men that have been drinking longer than those girls have been alive, it’s his only reason for getting out of bed every morning (or afternoon, rather). the splendors of boot hill don’t extend much beyond inebriation. having something to do every day, working so much, keeps his thoughts from focusing inward on himself, every failure he’s ever produced, every reason he’s just as much of a piece of shit as everyone has always told him he is. it keeps his mind and hands busy so he doesn’t get wrapped around the svelte fingers of a rotten aphrodite—again. he’s clearly impatient, eyes only glancing at her while he huffs hotly, begging the earth to swallow him whole. the weight of her stare and the weight of her hand feel like concrete, keeping him standing there instead of walking into the stock room or the men’s room where she can’t follow, but sonny knows more than anything that nothing gets in the way of what kitty briar wants.

if she called, would he have picked up? a question that he barely has to consider; he’s her dog and he’ll come running when she rings the dinner bell. maybe this time, he would’ve let it ring a few times before picking it up. he hopes, at least. his response is a lie, but kitty doesn’t need to know it: “no.” alison prevaricates, attempting to sound confident but his eyes flutter like moth’s wings as he avoids making direct eye contact with kitty. her stare, so pervasive, he can feel those eyes boring into every inch of his body, connecting the dots of his freckles and seeing right through him to the wall, like she can see right into his soul. he decides then that kitty should be a cop or something, there’s not one crook that wouldn’t fess up immediately, even to crimes they didn’t commit, if they just had her eyes on them for a fleeting moment. it’s why he has to steel himself, turn his own eyes into hard blue fire, a barricade that can’t be breached. he has to steel his heart, he has to make it into a pit. an endless, black one that kitty’ll fall down on her way to his soul.

her hand leaves his, a relief. it’s supposed to be a loving, caring touch, the salve to his raw nerves, but it only burns like spilled acid. as kitty searches her purse, sonny lets his eyes rest on her and nearly feels that barricade crumble, an instantaneous demolition that only has his little sister finola’s voice in his head, begging him to stop before it crumbles to dust. his gaze rips from her to the phone, met with a picture of him looking so happy, so lovesick and utterly pathetic. he doesn’t see a picture of two young kids, carefree and euphoric. all he sees is a boy that he desperately wants to tell to run far away, run into that desert until he reaches what lies beyond the amen county line, run until kitty briar or deputy holm can never find him. run until he becomes just like eileen, maybe that’s where he’ll find her. the little memory kitty supplies doesn’t make him smile, like he supposes was her intention. his stomach flips, but not from butterflies, only bitterness, like bourbon that won’t settle. perhaps if he wasn’t irritated with her, it’d work. he knows it would. he knows his anger is all that saves him from kneeling at her feet, the loyal subject that’s only been given a recess from her service instead of a reprieve. he looks from that phone to her openly sincere face, the pretty veneer. “katherine,” alison spits, knowing just how much she hates to be called that, just as much as he hates to be called alison, “i’m not seventeen anymore. can’t you go play with someone else? haven’t you finally gotten bored of me?” she must’ve, she hasn’t been around in ages. victims on rotation, he should’ve known it was only a matter of time before kitty came back, but it hurts all the same.

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there’s only like... less than two hours left in honesty day lol but let me know if you’d like more questions!! i’ll probably go through the list and make sure i send at least one to everyone that reblogged the post.

[apathest]

any girl out there in boot hill that's caught your eye?

honesty day : accepting !

“well... erika, obviously. the actress with shitty taste in beer, she’d be pretty if her personality wasn’t so annoying.” he runs a hand over his face, sighing heartily. “and kitty. there will always be kitty.” ( @yxsanos / @sureophelia / @kittybriar )

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why do you let kitty use you?

honesty day : accepting !

“because i’m a fucking idiot, that’s why.” really, it’s a question that sonny asks himself every single time kitty worms her way back into his life, always after he thinks he’s finally rid himself of her, but she always waltzes right back in and he always lets her. “i’m getting better about it, though. i think.” ( @kittybriar )