#cultsplush

[connotations]

" you shouldn't be here. "

[ancmalous]

closed.

Something was in the air, like a warning, and it left him feeling uneasy, restless even. He spent a good portion of summer avoiding his ex, sticking to the sidelines, teaching kids how to hop on and off kayaks without flipping them over and getting him stuck on puke duty. Mike was truly spent, and after a long day of lined-up chores and preparations for tonights party, he needed a moment alone. A moment to study the ink on paper left for him to find. It must've been a prank, someone toying with him, but he had strange anxiety about it. When she approached, he crushed up the paper into his fist, shoving it deep into his pocket as he pulled out a smile. "Were you -- did you follow me?" @cultsplush

[meltemakcol]

“  you’re  wasting  your  breath  “  / @cultsplush

[quiteburied]

         she   graciously   took   his   hand,   shaking   it   despite   him   practically   insulting   her   job.   emily   took   no   offense   in   the   matter.   kids   weren't   for   everyone   and   after   all   the   years   of   teaching   she   had   done,   she   couldn't   say   she   wanted   them   herself.   "   hey,   that's   okay,   "   she   smiled   up   at   him,   stalling   in   the   handshake   when   he   said   his   family   hosted   the   event.   "   oh,   seems   like   we're   in   the   same   situation.   i'd   rather   not   be   here   either,   "   she   teased.   it   wasn't   like   she   had   anything   better   to   do   anyway.   "   it's   a   nice   party.   i'm   just   feeling   out   of   place,   you   know   ?   "

HE   NEARLY   CHOKES   AT   THE   QUESTION,    the   glass   in   his   hand   a   decoration   at   this   point.   “God--   fuck   n--”   He   clears   his   throat   rather   abruptly,   pushing   his   tongue   against   his   cheek   as   he's   shaking   his   head   slightly.   “No.”   That   was   a   more   normal   response,   the   corners   of   his   mouth   shifting   upwards   just   a   bit   in   a   smirk,   as   he   breathes   out   a   laugh.   “Sorry,   I..   didn't   mean   for   that   to   sound   like..”   He   hates   children?   Well,   he   wasn't   really   a   fan,   but   that   was   besides   the   point.   Especially   in   the   presence   of   a   woman,   who   hadn't   the   faintest   idea   who   he   was.   “I'm   Jackson."   He   outstretched   a   hand.   “My   family   hosts   the   event,   they   donate   a   check   to   make   nice   with   the   council--   and   I'm   supposed   to   stand   there   and   nod,   maybe   smile   once   or   twice   to   make   nice." 

[ancmalous]

closed. @cultsplush

Ziggy and the boys arrived at the lake late, stoned and with half the beers already missing. But in spite being late and hazardous to their surroundings, their arrival was accompanied by a crowed ready to welcome them with open arms and more cold beverages. He shut down the engine of his car, cigarette in mouth as he shook some hands, loud music echoing through the trees around them. He spotted, soon enough, the reason he dragged his ass out of bed, and without much thinking he headed straight her way. "Howdy there ma' lil peach, sun warm enough for ya'?" her friend snorts at him, striking a nerve. "I know you ain't laugin' at me Lucille Pickins, you ought to get out the sun sweetheart lookin' little fried over there, bless your heart." he butts his way in, between Lucille and the girl he was actually here for, and then offers a freshly opened beer. "You ain't answer my calls --"

[dogsrotten]

low hiss is sound when he has to readjust himself , shaking his head . "relax ," he tells her , which is the equivalent to telling a woman to calm down , but he really needed her to before she gave him whiplash . watches as she gets off and begins to rummage through the clothes on the floor just to end up wearing his shirt , instead , "that's mine ." he points out , eyebrow raising at her tone of voice , leaning back on his hands as she comes back towards him , amusement now doused beneath hazel eyes , "can't what ? we -- you and i already did ."

Her heart was beating faster than she’d like, when she’s shoving him off her and rolling to the corner of the bed. Hand reaches for her phone. Fucking dead. Her head is still throbbing, as she looking for her clothes, mistakenly grabbing his shirt from the night before and slipping it on. “I told you—“ Her tone is sharper than she’d like, at least with him. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.” Well.. not usually. She really fucking needed this job. She wasn’t going to make this much money anywhere else. Standing to her feet, she hovers above him next to the bed. “I can’t—“ She’s avoiding his gaze, afraid she might give in again. “We can’t.”

[cravemore]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝    if    anyone    can    convince    him,    it's    you.    you    don't    understand    how    hard    it    was    to    get    her    to    be    open    to    forgiving    him    after    he    made    those    comments.    ❞    the    mental    twists    and    turns    lena    had    to    work    to    get    them    here    —    but    anything    was    worth    having    more    time    in    her    life.    grip    tightens    around    the    petite    coffee    cup    from    the    around    the    corner,    the    heat    a    comfort.    ❝    do    you    not    care    about    this    anymore    ?    i    thought    you    wanted    to    get    him    off    your    back    a    little    bit    too.    ❞

ANNOYANCE   PLAGUES   HIS   FEATURES ,   his   distaste   shifting   from   blue   hues   as   he's   been   up   most   of   the   night   trying   to   pick   up   the   pieces   of   someone   else's   mistake.   “right.”   god,   it's   practically   a   scoff   at   this   point.   “because   my   brother   is   such   an   easy   going   fuckin'   person.”   the   lilt   of   irish   on   his   tongue,   though   it   mostly   seeps   through   when   he's   stressed,   or   angry.   –   or   fucking   stressed   and   angry. 

[c0zys]

words are digested , though they're thick and jagged . blue orbs roll and she gives a scoffed chuckle . " oh , poor ash . are you mad that em got me first ? you know , could've been jade but something just didn't click there . " she cocks her head , dropping the other men's names easily , poking at him . wanting a reaction , more of the fire he's so easily spitting toward her .

"right,   must've   forgot   the   only   guys   that   have   a   chance-   are the ones that use   you   instead   of   their   own   personal   pocket   pussy,   and   then   toss   you   aside   after   a   week   and   a   half   when   they   get   bored."   he   doesn't   mean   for   the   bite   to   be   as   harsh   as   it   was,   but   his   own   feelings   were   bruised   in   the   process   of   everything.   if   she   didn't   give   a   shit   about   him-   why   should   he   spare   hers?

[quiteburied]

         he   found   enjoyment   in   witnessing   the   flames   within   valorie   grow.   it   was   one   of   her   most   attractive   qualities   to   him   and   lucas   poked   and   prodded   at   it   whenever   he   could.   he   chuckled   as   she   came   closer,   but   that   laughter   quickly   turned   sour   when   he   watched   his   cigarette   extinguish   upon   hitting   the   ground.   "   take   a   fuckin'   seat,   sweetheart.   no   one   is   coming   to   get   you,   "   he   didn't   even   bother   to   sit   up   straight,   he   continued   to   lean   back   against   his   chair   -   as   if   none   of   this   affected   him   at   all.   "   you   can   be   so   god   damn   dramatic.   "

THAT   ANGER   STARTS   TO   RISE   up   in   the   back   of   her   throat.   the   one   she   twists   and   pushes   down?   the   one   that   was   favored   to   her   by   blood,   of   a   wicked   father   and   his   favorite   daughter.   that   anger,   that   bores   back   at   him   now   with   a   blinked   stare.   her   gaze   shifts   to   his   hands,   the   faint   remains   of   blood   lilting   across   cracked   knuckles,   and   she   can   feel   something   in   her   snap.   she'll   double   the   space,   pricking   the   cigarette   from   his   mouth   and   flicking   it   elsewhere.   “they'll   come   back.”   more   of   them.   “they'll   make   me   go   back!”   her   tone   is   sharp,   directed,   but   it's   not   from   a   place   of   hate.   it's   fear.   and   it's   coated   on   her   tongue.   because   now?   now   they   have   something   to   hang   over   her.   now?   they   know   she   cares   about   him.   about   something.   and   that   was   worth   taking.

[dogsrotten]

candace davenport was a bitch . vile , nasty and the worst fucking human possible to walk the earth . grew up with her and knew firsthand how she could be because that's how she was raised . neglected and alone , taking it out on everyone else around her . always finding something to stick her nose in because she was bored and misery loved company and if she wasn't happy ? well , then , she'd make sure everyone else fell in line , too . not him , though . and certainly not alivia because he'd always have something to say about it ; protective by nature when it came to her . and he can't shake off the guilt like he did something wrong even though he had every right to do what he wanted . he didn't owe her an explanation , right ? yet still looked for one because she was that important to him , always will be and last thing he wanted to do was unintentionally hurt her . tongue runs across the top of his teeth before he's shrugging , "it's not like that , though ." comes tumbling out of his mouth , nursing a beer to keep his hands busy from grabbing her face and bringing her closer . nerves tug at heartstrings and he's swallowing to wet his mouth , "and i don't care who she is , doesn't make it right ." wasn't going to let femme win this round , having spotted her walking off before he even had the chance to interject , but he would later . "you believe me , right ?"

numb,   her   fingertips   felt   like   ice-   despite   the   heat   that   radiated   from   the   back   of   her   throat,   down   to   her   toes.   her   gaze   is   averted,   and   she'll   try   her   best   to   hide   the   jealous   lump   in   the   back   of   her   throat.   the   jealousy   she   shouldn't   have   felt.   the   jealousy   that   she   didn't   allow   herself   to   linger   on.   it   wasn't   anything-   even   if   he   was,   it   wasn't   any   of   her   business.   corey   beaumont,   was   a   notorious   flirt,   that's   what   everyone   always   said.   but   alivia   wasn't   just   anybody,   was   she?   and   she   hates   to   admit   it,   that   candice,   of   all   people-   managed   to   get   under   her   skin-   pointing   out   to   the   two   of   them,   that   corey   was   busy   with   someone   else.   someone   that   looked--   nothing   like   her.   it's   why   alivia   rolls   her   eyes,   and   she's   shrugging   off   the   ache   that   beats   somewhere   in   her   chest.   somewhere   in   sync   with   his.   "isn't   it   against   doctor's   orders   to   put   your   nose   in   other   people's   business,   when   you're   that   fresh   off   the   operating   table?"   she   remarks,   a   little   under   her   breath,   and   a   little   drowned   out   by   the   music.   but   candice's   gaze   narrowed,   which   prompted   alivia   to   raise   her   brows-   the   word   bitch   on   the   tip   of   her   tongue,   before   she   decided   against   it   and   scoffed,   turning   into   the   crowd.   it   was   the   better   choice,   considering   their   company,   and   corey   was   never   above   defending   her--   he'd   make   a   scene   about   it.   so   in   the   end,   it   was   in   candice's   best   interest   to   back   off.   now,   they're   left   with   the   silence   between   them,   and   this   ache   she   can't   get   rid   of.   how   fingertips   twitched   at   her   side   for   him.   how   guilt   lingers   on   the   back   of   her   mind,   shaking   blonde   tresses   with   a   soft   sigh.   "it's   okay,   really..   you   can   flirt   with   whoever   you   want."   except,   her-   right?   those   were   the   rules?   "she   was   just   looking   to   get   a   reaction..   that's   all..   you   know   how   she   is."

[dogsrotten]

when he hears the click of the door unlock , he pushes it open without hesitation . watches as she maneuvers to the sink and allows her that space to settle down before words pull him back , giving her his attention . head shakes , "you don't ." she never did . there was a reason he fell in love with her . because she was smart and resilient , kind and exhilarating and nothing like any of the other women he's known . she made him laugh and smile , gave him a sense of comfort he never had growing up . it was a house , but never a home and for once in his life , he was happy coming back to someone . "i do ," hands remain in his pockets , staring at her like she was made of glass and one word could shatter what they built , but perhaps he already had . can't imagine his life without her , even when he ended things for her own good -- protection . he woke up and craved her body next to his , the only time he was ever able to sleep properly . "i wouldn't have wasted your time -- my time , if i didn't ."

She believed him, he’d break the latch on the door quite easily, if she didn’t open it. But she’s sitting there, closing her eyes to the sound of his voice, and trying to focus on her breath. A long pause, in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she was a child, these panic attacks seemed to be more frequent, she remembered what her mom had always taught her. Breathe in like you’re stopping to smell the flowers, and exhale like you’re blowing out birthday candles, slow and steady until you’re back. When she rises to her feet, she unlocks the door, but doesn’t open it. Instead turns to face the sink, and the mirror where she can see him behind her. Her face is stained with tears, lashes long and wet, and the red burning her eyes made them appear so much more blue and doed. She’ll turn the sink off, only after rinsing her hands and using the remaining drops of water to smooth under her eyes. “I must’ve looked so stupid to you.” There’s a sniffle, and she’s rolling her eyes. “This whole time.” All the little things she wanted, and expected from him. “I actually thought you wanted them too. I thought— you were rough around the edges. But deep down that you wanted the same things I did. You let me go on and on.. marriage and kids, and what kind of house we’d have. Did you actually mean any of that?” She’s pausing. “Because I did— I do.”

[dogsrotten]

was . he was in love with her . wonders if he still is , if he could be , if they could ever go back to how things were . before she fucked up , before she hurt him , before he hurt her . before her father got arrested , before she started drinking and doing drugs , before her life fell apart and before she dragged everyone else down with her . she was someone important once upon a time ago . valedictorian , class president , loved by many and now hated by all . she did it all herself , father painted with a horrible image of deceit now dictating how her entire life was going to be . and her mother wasn't helping . in fact , she made it worse . takes a timid step towards him , confident facade always dipping at times like this , lost in a sea of all the wonderful qualities she had and replacing them with worse ones . it wasn't that she was fatal , but she wouldn't necessarily mind if she never woke up again . fingertips reach to run through his hair , edging closer to where he sat to maneuver between his legs , "i love you ." she whispers , "can you love me again ?" just for tonight and every one after .

“I don’t know.” Now he’s starting to sound like her. But as she takes a step back, he doesn’t push. He removes himself and sits on the corner of the bed. His gaze shifts down to his hands, as he clasped them over each other, wringing them out and repeating. “What I needed was for you to not be anything but who you are. I liked you the way that you were.” His mouth feels dry, his tongue parting against brims just to give them a bit of moisture. “I don’t like when you cry. It wasn’t to hurt you, though. I just— I don’t know how we’re supposed to move forward, I don’t know if I can get over any of this. I don’t know if we’re even right for each other anymore. But fuck— I didn’t just care about you. I was in love with you.” The word was, felt sharp but he didn’t mean for it to be. “We can’t get over this if you keeping drinking, and doing drugs. It’s never going to work if you keep waking up not remember who or where you are. I can’t just sit there and watch you kill yourself.” His eyes closed and his head shakes, his chest heavy. “It’ s killing me.”

[dogsrotten]

there’s a premature nod before features fall slightly , taking him in because it very well might be the last time . even if he would have said yes , she would have been happy for him . that was the problem with caring so much .. no one ever cared enough back , but she saw parts of him . “nothing ?” she looks around , swallowing the tension in her throat in hopes to wet it enough to speak properly . “so you’re kicking me out ?”

love wasn’t something people like him came by often. it was a privilege he couldn’t afford. the people he fought for— they loved leverage. and if she had to hate him, so he could keep her safe— then fine. fucking hate him. “that’s the thing.” there’s a thud in his chest, like his heart was being cracked open. “i’ve never loved anything.” another pause, brief and cutting. “you should go.”

[connotations]

‘ i'm not — i'm not starting a fight with you. ’ and they both knew that. she wasn't a combative person, she didn't like to be the one to add fuel to the fire. she's obedient, almost to a fault, in moments like these. because he knows what kind of power he has over her, how he can sway her to do practically anything. all he had to do was say it, and she'd be willing. pathetic. please what ? she doesn't even know. take her back. love her. anything. ‘ please just talk to me. ’ and the fact that she has to ask for that, is humiliating in itself. that she was willing to succumb to desperate attempts, just to be his favorite again.

god,   it   was   easy.   she   was   so   fucking   easy.   it's   almost   boring,   the   way   he   can   twist   the   truth   and   she'll   believe   it.   maybe   part   of   him   should   have   shown   her   mercy,   let   her   go   from   whatever   the   fuck   this   trap   was.   but   a   butterfly   without   wings-   couldn't   fly.   and   he'd   mounted   hers   a   long   time   ago.   lips   pursed,   and   he's   ignoring   her   now,   it's   fucking   cruel   almost.   an   exasperated   sigh   is   etched   into   drew's   features   now,   tilting   his   chin   up   from   his   spot   on   the   couch.   but   there   it   was-   the   sharpness   in   her   tone,   it   stirs   excitement   in   the   pit   of   his   stomach.   god-   they   needed   to   be   fucking   put   down   if   it   kept   coming   to   this.   "you   have   half   a   fucking   drink   and   find   something   to   argue   about."   of   course   he's   twisting   the   narrative,   it   was   his   to   bend.   "please   what?"   

[connotations]

if you asked her how she ended up here, she’d tell you she didn’t know. she’d ripped out the pages of her past and made her own graveyard out of it. better that way. she let herself remain a shrouded mystery, because it was easier than letting people know the truth. there were times she had slipped, letting things reveal themselves through the cracks. how she used to never stay in one place for too long, omitting the part where it was her changing foster care placements. or how her grandma had made the best chocolate chip cookies, before everything went to shit and she never saw her again. it almost seemed like the perfect life. she’s watching as he pulls open her locker, her eyes shuffling towards the door carefully. they weren’t supposed to bring people to the back, vince had said for security reasons— or just another way to keep them all under his thumb. she’s slipping into the clothes, before slinging the bag over her arms. “ we should go. ” before vince or ramses or anyone else saw him in here. she’s stepping around him, towards the door that led out to the parking lot. ignoring his other words— until they reached the car. “ for what it’s worth, i like being around you too. ” and that alone was enough to scare her.

He wasn’t sure what it was like, what made people end up in a place like this. Truth be told, the idea of his sister even being wrapped up in a lifestyle like this, was enough to make him uneasy. It’s why he hovered, she always looked over everyone else, who was going to watch after her? It’s how he met Blake, and why there’s something about her that he can’t shake. He’d always had a thing for broken things, after all— it’d be his and Ashton’s downfall. His gaze shifts to her, and he’s taking her bag out of the locker and bringing it closer so she can change into clothes more comfortable to go home in. “Because you’re smart, and kind, and funny.” He pauses, dropping the bag gently at her side. “And I like being around you.”

[warmd4ys]

can hardly believe the words that are being spewed her way , and it's with gut - wrenching , sinking feeling that she realises she should have expected this . but the cruel reality is that she is hopeful , or she was . but she feels that dwindling into dust the more he speaks . ❝ no . ❞ arms fold over chest as she sinks into the chair , knowing that staying standing will make her appear far more confident than she currently feels , but she needs to relieve the unease in her stomach . ❝ i'm not going anywhere . not until you tell me the truth . ❞ typically , she isn't demanding , but she holds back the tears that are pricking at the back of irises . ❝ do you feel anything at all ? ❞

his   body   visibly   tenses   at   the   remark,   choosing   to   remain   in   silence   than   allow   the   voice   that   picked   apart   his   head-   to   respond so quickly.   "really,"   he's   not   even   looking   at   her,   instead   there's   a   quiet   glance   up   from   where   he   was   stationed   at   the   mirror,   her   reflection   an   indirect   taunt   of   it's   own   as   irises   peered   across   frame.   "you   have   to   start   now?"   god,   the   dismissal   was   practically   venom,   swashed   around   and   leaving   a   nasty   taste   on   the   tilt   of   his   silver   tongue.   "we   don't   have   time   for   this."   another   retraction   as   he's   finally   turning   to   look   at   her   directly   now.   "get   dressed."