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kissesdeathsaved-blog · 7 years ago

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𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎: KING , THEO .

This kind of life was a chaos. It seemed as if he was constantly playing a game with death and some shifts, like that particular night he came too close to losing their little game of life and death. Yet, instead of jumping up and down with joy that he and every one of his firefighters got out in one piece he was sitting by himself inside a diner with a cup of coffee. His soft blue eyes focusing on the morning light playing across the table until someone captured his attention. “ What are you doing here so early? “

❛ 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 . ❜ there SHOULD be a well of guilt slowly bubbling beneath careful repose of tones --- --- --- - the thing is , there isn’t . how many times can you lie , tired smile the pièce de résistance , before you start believing the CRAP you spit out ? ❛ this place is my favourite . they don’t ask questions when y’want a doppio macchiato at stupid o’clock in the morning . ❜ subdued attempt of a chuckle is GENUINE when jack turns hues to the other , bitten smile a ghost on enervated mien and god , he’s never looked more TIRED than he does when he tries not to look so .

#╰ 🥀 ˚ ˋ 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥. ⊱ int.

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kissesdeathsaved-blog · 7 years ago

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. ˚ ◝ jenna coleman . cis female . she / her . sarah cuthbert has been living in chicago for six months working as a medical secretary . the thirty year old is known as the seraph because they can be bucolic & blithe as well as diffident & circumspect . once you catch them you’ll discover that their favourite song is thank you for the music by abba . maybe that explains why freshly - cut flowers arranged daily , brightest beams and the scent of gardenia and jasmin perfume describes them so well .

trigger warnings include: mentions of alcoholism .

UNE . / BIOGRAPHY .

act one . british born and bred / softest london accent , slightest irish tilt . mother watches the roses in your cheeks grow , so similar to her own ; father is distant , smells like cheap perfume and cigarettes that you’ve never seen him smoke . he disappears when you turn six , when your mother smiles through glassy tears and reads you a bedtime story with only minimal hiccuping betwixt dialogue . ( it is not the gin , it is the mere force of a ten - year heartbreak . nothing sucks the air out of your lungs more than watching the love of your life leave . ) it’s private schools on a struggling budget , stitching your skirt together year in and year out because there is only so much you can do on a secondary teacher’s salary and a prayer , making the best out of the hard times , blankets upon blankets upon blankets and endless cups of tea because warmth is fleeting . it’s tough , you do not try to lie and neither does your mother . she apologises , ashamed of the way you wear scarves to cover your frayed collars but you smile , and you kiss her cheek , and you start cooking dinner because it is not her fault and you know that . you do not blame your father , either --- --- --- - instead , you shoulder the hardship . at fourteen , you’ve got a selection of after - school jobs that don’t pay well but at least they pay , at least you can contribute . at sixteen , you drop out and for a while , you feel catatonic . it’s as if you shuttle yourself backwards and forwards , work to home to work to home to bed , rinse and repeat and die . it’s tough , but you smile through gritted teeth and swallow sunshine the way your mother’s taken to swallowing gin and swallowing vodka and swallowing --- --- --- - you are eighteen , and you have had enough . you love her , love her dearly but alcoholics anonymous feels like a sham and the pamphlet says that a local organisation can help . it’s with a heavy heart and heavy suitcases that you leave her at the doorstep , and you cannot help but feel like your father . like him before , you do not look back .

act two . you are twenty - one , and this is terrifying . high school dropout stands in front of a university , trembling and clammy but confident , smile etched on those lovely lips as you adjust your collar and prepare for the worst because nothing , nothing can hurt you . you have seen the worst of the world , have carried the burdens of an alcoholic mother and a father like houdini on your frail shoulders since before you knew what any of it meant . you go in , and you expect the worst because how can this university , with all its prestige and awe , ever accept a high school dropout with more trouble tacked onto your name than you are worth ? you go in , but they do not grill you the way you thought they would . they do not sneer when you mention , tone shaking just a little bit , that you have not finished high school , that you know nothing more than what the tenth grade has taught you . you do not know anything past that , but you know that you are kind , that your hands are calloused and sore , that you have worked since you were fourteen and that you are tired of working and you want to live , want to find a reason to live . you leave with your acceptance , pristine in a trembling fist , and it is there and then , your scuffed brogues plastered to cool marble , that you decide to do everything you can to make sure you get to the top , to survive but fuck surviving , you want to thrive and you want to RISE . oh , sweet girl , you do much more than that . you graduate trinity college at the top of your year , and with your medical degree in hand , you decide to conquer the world .

act three . how did you end up here , lovely girl ? how did you find yourself , sprawled on the floor and drunk on vintage wine , homesick but aching with excitement for this new chapter of your life . you leave dublin at twenty - five , and you work in london for a while --- --- --- - a medical secretary at a hospital in camden , a waitress in westminster , you do whatever you need to get by but london doesn’t feel big enough , doesn’t feel enough when you heart aches for something foreign , something new and it’s under the influence of a bottle of rosé that you book your flight to new york . one way . it is terrifying , so large and so full and so very american , too american for your gentle sensibilities and really , that’s something that’ll never leave . you are english , so very english / it’s cups of tea over takeaway coffee , smiling rather than scowling on the subway , giving your seat up , gentleness and politesse that stems deep and wide in the very pit of your belly . new york is too much for you , too loud --- --- --- - so you pack up and you move again , you straighten your ponytail and you take a deep breath and you smile . you smile on the plane to chicago , you smile at the landlord , you smile on your first day of work as a medical secretary . you smile , and you bear it . hasn’t that always been the way ??

DEUX . / AESTHETICS .

waking up to the sun streaming , buttery and gentle , across your sheets . mornings spent barefoot in the garden , tea in hand and smile already ghosting upon coruscant brims . sundresses , lace and chiffon and cotton , neat and ironed and just as sunny as the reflection in your eyes . lemonade and home - cooked lunches , neat flower arrangements and the smell of honeysuckle lingering ever - present . dimples in your cheeks , the feel of sunbeams dancing over bared skin . laughter reminiscent of a teenager’s , bright and bubbly and girlish , mellifluous . no hard words , just soft encouragement and those smiles , the kind that melts ice and warms even the coldest of hues . your mother’s wedding band on a slight chain --- --- --- - no note of your father except the sadness when you see a six - year - old whose hand is clutched by that of an adoring father figure . keep calm , carry on , smile .

#ch.intro #this . took way Too long but it happened !

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