#ft. heath

[bookishbilly]

↳INSTAGRAM: @billymchale a photo:

Shoutout to the Hudsons for letting me crash their sweet day out. Coolest family ever. (Not pictured: Lo & Jenna. Lo because Jenna got ice cream in his hair and he didn't want it documented. Jenna because she's perfect and adorable and too cute for the world.)

[daffodilwithit]

↳INSTAGRAM: @d.sterling uploaded a photo:

Shorts weather means I can finally go on a hike without sweating my ass off 30 seconds in.

[theopaints]

↳INSTAGRAM: @theomoreau uploaded a photo:

elodie fell on some ice and i freaked out like a total loser and heath looked like totally scared and worried but his reflexes are like so crazy because he caught on her like hes snowy superman or something haha :)

[lovesickelodie]

↳INSTAGRAM: @magnifiquemoreau uploaded a photo:

cyber bullied heath into taking me for lunch :))) a tear just rolled down my thigh fr 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[lcstbcy]

Matty did his research before he'd confronted Heath, and since the man had quite the online persona, it hadn't even been that dificult. World championships, the face of Ferrari, none of it was new information to Matty. But hearing it spelled out like that highlighted how little he'd accomplished in his life so far, which only made him angrier and had him

"I don't fucking care about your fucking world championships," he spits back, though it's at least partly a lie – he'd been impressed while he'd read about all of Heath's accomplishments online. It's just much easier to deflect everything and it's been his default way of being for far too long to change it now in an instant.

"I know damn well things don't just fucking happen because you want them to," he snaps back when Heath stops talking, once more with that threatening finger and the cigarette between his teeth. Heath can think what he wants, Matty knows just how fucking hard it can be.

"I don't need anything from you," he ends shaking his head. Yes, he'd searched him out – without consciously knowing why he wanted to, but the idea of reaching out for help made him feel so damn weak he couldn't even entertain the thought. "Never should've fucking come here in the first place," he then mutters, shaking his head as he looks at the ground and takes another long drag of his smoke. "Forget it – I gotta get to work."

heath had told himself the same lie for years after his father’s death - that he was doing just fine on his own. but he knew deep down, things would have spiraled in a much darker direction if his younger brother hadn’t relied on him in the past. there was a strange sense of solace in the anger matty directed at him; it was good to know he could bite back.

“hell, at ya age, i’d already wrangled me six straight world championships and made ferrari a damn powerhouse. and ya reckon ya’ve got it all figured out just ‘cause ya can throw a couple punches? boy, ya don’t know a fuckin' lick ‘bout life”

his mind was set on confronting lani. heath needed to get a contact, gather the truth. whether she liked it or not, she owed him that. and to matty, too.

“i ain’t expectin’ things to magically get better between us, and i know it sure as hell won’t fix everythin’. but i’m willin’ to try and change what i can” he said, his words carrying an unusual honesty “i ain’t never been good at askin’ for help. never much cared for dependin’ on ‘nyone. but if ya need me, just holler”

[gelatoisland]

the three stupids

[loyaldeserter]

"A little birdie told me it was someone's birthday today."

An owl, to be precise-- the one that perches up by the bulletins scattered around campus. Legault had been aware of the upcoming date, but it had still been a good reminder to get a little gift together when he'd spotted the knight's name on the calendar.

His prize dangles from a chain clenched loosely in his fist: a cluster of dried heather blooms encased in a glass locket. The soft pink and purple hues of the petals are dulled with age, a subdued version of the color the hills of Bern in the summertime.

"Perhaps it's a bit sentimental for your tastes, but..."

He presses the pendant into the knight's palm.

"If you're going to carry the burdens of home, you may as well carry the prettier parts of it as well. That was my thought, anyhow."

Self-consciousness flickers across the thief's features, smoothed out just as quickly by a crooked smile.

"And if you'd rather cast it aside, it'll get you a pretty penny at the secondhand shop. Always good to have something to pawn off in an emergency when you're in a spot like ours, mm?"

Heath doesn't do anything special for his birthdays.

To be honest, he'd initially forgotten it was his birthday entirely. A day is a day, and they tend to blend into each other when there isn't anything particularly exciting happening. He'd put on his armor, walked into the knight commons, and been mildly surprised when he was met with clapping and a slice of cake and various small gifts from his coworkers.

A little much, but it really cemented just how Heath has integrated into Garreg Mach over these past months. It's the longest he's stayed in one place in a long time, and people know him. They talk with him. Are interested in him beyond the utility a wyvern knight can offer them.

It feels nice. It feels dangerous.

Logically, he knows Garreg Mach is easily defensible. Why would Bern lay siege to a powerful institution on a foreign continent, just to punish a single deserter?

It is the ghost of Bern that follows him now. It haunts his dreams, in the terrors of battle and the lost faces of his comrades smiling again. It walks the cobble of Garreg Mach, in the form of Legault and the Reeds.

He should flee. He is a moth dancing in the flames, one shift of the wind or careless dive away from turning to ash. Or, more likely (more in line with how he feels) he is the flame, threatening those who draw too close.

"That birdie's been busy, it seems." Yet here he is, indulging like this. Legault is hard to avoid, especially when the thief constantly seeks him out. And lately, Heath's efforts to do so have been half-hearted and performative at best. "Visiting everyone but me, it seems. You know, it almost slipped my mind entirely."

Heath's even about to let himself laugh at this, but it catches in his throat as he catches sight of the gift. He'd recognize those flowers anywhere. The specter has been made manifest, and it is pressed into the palm of his hand. It should burn him.

But, in a way, it is him. Heath was named for the grasslands that surrounded his town, typically scarce but so beautiful and vibrant in bloom. He'd taken those flowers for granted, never considered the idea there would be a day where he'd leave them behind for good.

He's stayed frozen like this for too long. His grip slackens, and he holds the pendant close to his eyes, almost hypnotized by the colors. He doesn't know how Legault managed to get his hands on this. How he always seems to know how to say things that make Heath tick.

"This isn't something to foist upon someone else," he says, as if this little piece of Bern is a responsibility. He works his fingers against it methodically, a ritual of his own design. "Legault, I..."

He doesn't really know how to convey what this means to him. The weight of the little object in his hands, the dried flowers beneath the glass. He's not sure what it means to him, exactly.

Everything is upside-down. He carries a piece of what he runs from, of what betrayed him. He seeks the company of a man he should rebuke, even if he cares for him. Moreso because he does. He feels at home when his home is lost to him forever.

"Thank you."

[ex3rtion]

𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱      :   friday     &    heath     ( @cortvdos ) !

𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿:   3:24pm.

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:  the courtyard, near the fountain.

* ❪  🍂     ❫    : 𝘁𝗼𝗼   𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹,   𝘁𝗼𝗼   𝗴𝗿𝗼𝗼𝘃𝘆    𝗯𝗼𝗼𝘁𝘀    𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻    𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁    𝗼𝘂𝘁   𝘁𝗵𝗲    𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗵    𝗽𝗮𝗴𝗲   of   an eighties  magazine   squeak   with   each   hard   step.   if   she   was to pay   such an unforgivable    amount  for tuition  she was    gonna   make   noise   and   run   this   ground   to pebble damnit!  they're stopping in front of the unsuspecting reader, arms reaching up to gather her hair in her hands as she whispers tauntingly,   ❝  hey   stranger.   i   liked   your   vibe.   watched   you  from  across   the   courtyard.   couldn't   help   but   say   hi. ❞    crouching   now,   cold bitten ears   poke   out    from  underneath  the   birds   nest   of   curls   that   are freshly pinned   together   with   two  criss -  crossing   pens.   ❝  im   kidding, man. if i was stalking you, i'd be alot more discreet.   i   heard   your   music   blaring   from   your   headphones —   which,   fucking   cool   by   the   way.  need   to   know   the   brand   of   those,   like   yesterday.  but anyways  i   was   wondering   what   song   that   was ?    i'm curating   this   playlist   that's   gonna   be   absolutely   cracker.   which means    i   need    that on there. ❞    eyes   divert   toward   the   piles   of   pages   that   fan   out   from   his   school bag.   all   cinematically   laid   out   for   the   roaming   public   to   take   in.   aesthetically   pleasing   in   every   sense   of   the   word; an artists dreamscape, really. or even a simple someone who saw beauty in the mundane. which could've been the same thing, if you removed all the pretentious freaks that copied basquiat and called it a day.   a   man   you   would   post   on   pinterest   and   never   see   again.   wondering   what   could've   been.   she   needed   that   song like she needed a lung.   

[jasmineansari]

@jasmum: You are effortlessly gorgeous in a way that should be punishable by law. Those Hudson genes don’t come to play! Go Bekah!

↳INSTAGRAM: @heathhudson uploaded a photo:

Let’s seal the deal with a kiss.

[daffodilwithit]

↳INSTAGRAM: @d.sterling uploaded a photo:

Being this handsome should be punishable by death. Smell ya later, Hudson! (The White Girl Peace Sign is not my signature look, but this photo looks like it was ripped from Backwards Day in the 1920s.)

[newslink7com]

RFK Jr. Launches $50M Autism Research Database Using Medicare Data—Experts Warn of Privacy, Misinformation Risks
Health Secretary RFK Jr. says the new system will reveal long-awaited answers about autism. But experts warn it could revive discredited vaccine theories and raise serious privacy concerns.
👉 Read the full story at https://newslink7.com

[lovesickelodie]

↳INSTAGRAM: @magnifiquemoreau uploaded a photo:

photo dump from a pre mashed up brain hard drive i found 👀 okurrrr sexy slay

[nevermacdown]

@maconthego: @heathhudson Raw sex appeal?

↳INSTAGRAM: @maconthego uploaded a photo:

I’m defrosting with the oncoming spring.

[kellscarborough]

CLOSED STARTER @heath-morgan

— KELL’S JEWELLERY SHOP, DYNASTY, IN MANHATTAN ; LATE MORNING

Kell never thought that, when he was a naive eighteen year old having just landed in NYC, that he would step foot in a shop like this let alone even own it. Everything that had led him here had just been by pure chance and it has worked out beautifully.

He had wanted to change the name of Dynasty, but he felt like he owed it to its previous owner- Kell’s mentor, Lisa- to keep the brand the same. The shop itself, however, had evolved: the cabinets were immaculately polished, LED lighting had been fitted to showcase the jewellery’s enticing sparkle, plush velvet furniture had been added for comfort and elegance, the walls had been painted bright white with a matching tiled floor, and a grand golden chandelier hung from the ceiling. A lot of the decor had been here since Kell took over, but he had everything replaced and brought up to a modern standard so it was clean and inviting. The whole experience was about luxury and Kell didn’t mind spending a penny or two to make back the return tenfold.

That morning, he had been setting out a display of diamond necklaces, making sure everything was arranged painfully meticulously, when he saw the door open out of his peripheral vision, surprised to see a familiar ruggedly handsome face.

“Heath Morgan,” Kell greeted with a smile. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

[reptil-enjoyer]

El pibe el loco la legenda, el pibe fuego

[ambroselm]

PIKE house. Early in the night. [ @heathtalbot ]

It wasn't as if Ambrose wasn't a social person. He was. He tried to be, anyway. But he'd been here for about a month, how was he supposed to know who this stupid text was about? It could have been anyone. So, he decided he'd use the party to try to figure it out. Anyone who might have any information … As he headed up the pathway towards the fraternity house he spotted Heath nearby, perking up. Heath might be a good person to chat with. He usually knew a ton of things! Ambrose felt like he might know something about this too. "Hello," He greeted, as he wandered over towards the other, very casual. "So, those texts." A very subtle way to start the conversation. Ambrose gave a falsely unaffected type of laugh. He was affected. He was very much affected. His cousin was still missing and the police decided it didn't matter. "That's the 'G' thing everyone keeps talking about?"