#lockwood:points

[gabeleitner]

fragments | self para

Gabe had imagined a thousand lives before this one, yet there he was in his bed, staring at the dust follicles floating in the light. He imagines one reality where no one in his house is sick, where he doesn’t look up at the sky and beg for absolution for wishing death on his father every night to someone who isn’t there. He imagines one where Zelda runs away with him, and both of them are his current age and the sun finds its way to keep a warmth in him he never knew he had.

He hears the lull of a television left on in his mother’s room. This is the calmest he’s felt in a while, maybe, despite the fact that coming back home always gnawed at his chest -- even when he didn’t have to see his father.

We’re so happy to see you, Isabella and Adeline say over and over to him by the end of Christmas night, their faces lit like a dream. They hadn’t seen him since the summer, considering he never bothered to return home on Thanksgiving. Gabe complies in their laughter and their warmth, but the aching in his body reminds him that he’d never have the TV-perfect family he would yearn for when he was in middle school. It’s a childish thing to want even at his age, but the sugarcoatedness of being home made him sick for some reason, as if he was begging them for something real. He wasn’t exactly wanting pain -- he wasn’t a masochist.  But as he watched the corners of his mother’s mouth raise with her dimples, similarly to how his would as a child, he knew better. Her eyes would always carry the weight of the world, or a hell, rather. One of screaming and fighting and holding your tongue during the blow. One where the guilt made it hurt to move in the morning knowing her son’s growing pains couldn’t be tended to, only that they were put through even more bruises and boiling water. Gabe was okay with this, or he pretended to be to the point where nothing would ever phase him.

He hears his father’s voice in between the sound of a newscaster and Adeline’s phone calls to family members that cared enough to call but not to visit, for the three of them were damaged things left behind by Richard Leitner’s desolation. They were that part of the family.

You better not fuck this up, Gabriel. God knows Lockwood would’ve let you in had I not been an alum. If you fuck this up, your mother would hate it, you know that? She would hate you.

This is the second to last phone call from Richard, two months prior. His most recent call to Gabe haunts him to the core, the steadiness of his voice reminding him that any calmness isn’t real -- it’s only a guard for the worst. Gabe remembers hiding his face from Ophelia, mouth shut and knuckles aching.

Gabe sees his father in himself when he clenches his jaw at the mirror, resisting his fists to swing the same way he did when he was fifteen. His veins felt like they would engulf the rest of his arm, and suddenly fear strikes him the way the sound of that crashing beer bottle did. A gash in his head, a shiner in his right eye, gravel in his mouth in front of his own home.

3:27 AM, his phone reads. He doesn’t bother with Ophelia’s texts or Lana’s snapchats, instead fumbling with the lighter on his bedside table. It flickers it on and off in his hand, and he imagines dropping it on the floor, his entire room up in flames as he watches without a word.

Fifteen minutes pass with his thumb on the lighter, a flame in and out. Gabe considers this is better than being alone in Lockwood, though at least one of his friends could barge in and distract him from the depressing nature of the holidays. He gets up in the bluish darkness tiredly and scuffles towards his mother’s bedroom. Home Alone 2 plays on the small television opposite her bed, and her sleeping figure tosses and turns as Gabe goes under the covers.

“Gabe? What is it, honey, is everything alright?” Isabella asks apprehensively, her body suddenly facing her son as she touches a hand to his left cheek.

“I’m okay, Mom. I had… a nightmare. Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Of course,” she whispers. She purses her lips and strokes his brown curls, and suddenly she him as his teenage self, vulnerable and strong-willed at the same time. He hadn’t done this in years. There came a point in his youth when Isabella stopped wondering when Gabe would come home, when she would turn all the lights off knowing that it was useless to be worried. She had too many demons of her own to worry about, and even still, this fact made the guilt inside her well up. “Is it bad today?”

“Yes,” Gabe mumbles. “But it’s okay. Let’s go to sleep.” He remembers this code speak from when he was young, when his mother would occasionally know him enough to become a peer mirroring his own struggle.

“I’m… I really missed you, Gabe. I’m so happy that you’re home.”

“I’m happy, too,” Gabe murmurs to his mother, whose eyes have already fluttered closed back to her state of sleep. He keeps these words in his mouth like a secret and wonders if he’ll ever believe it. Eventually.

[eliaselliot-blog]

♔ LOCKWOOD TASK 001 ; character sheet

BASICS

Full Name: elias anton elliot. Meaning of Name: greek derivation of “jehovah of god”. Nickname: eli, ant. jackass. whichever you will.

Birth Date: january 6th, 1996. Astrological Sign and Details: capricorn. Birth Place: manhattan, ny. Age: 21. Nationality: american. Race: caucasian. Hair Color: black. Hair Style: not too short, slightly messy. Distinct Features of Face: strong jawline, long lashes, thick brows, plush lips. Glasses or Contacts: both. rarely seen in glasses, however. Eye Color: hazel. Skin Tone: slightly tanned, but white. Scars or Distinguishing Marks: a scar that goes down his right shoulder blade. Disabilities: none. Build or Body Type: broad shoulders, muscular arms and torso, toned legs.  Height: 6′ 3″. Weight: well. Speech Patterns: speaks in a low, yet confident tone. tends to deadpan most things, even jokes. isn’t a man who makes his present super known, but is typically around a lot of people at social gatherings and gets along with most despite his sometimes stand-offish demeanor. Tag Words: “no, i won’t paint you.” Gestures: rotates his rings a lot, toys with his bottom lip while he’s thinking, pretty expressive with his brows, combs his hands through his hair subconsciously and then messes it up again to put it back lmfao FAMILY AND CHILDHOOD

Mother: evelyn elliot Father: jacob elliot Mother’s Occupation: ex-model, now just keeps up with the family’s social status Father’s Occupation: partner of a prestigious law firm Family Finances: wealthy gucci gang gucci gang gucci gang Birth Order: what. 1st? Brothers: none. Sisters: sophia elora elliot, 19 Other Close Family: jude hayward, first-cousin Best Friend: Other Friends: Blake, Lana, Imogen, Jude, Frankie, Tripp, Alex, Teddy, Reagan, surprisingly the list goes on Enemies: his DAD. dw he’ll probably find sum1 here soon enough Pets: he got a pup named king Home Life During Childhood: HAHAHA. horrible. Town or City Name(s): manhattan, ny Details of Town(s) or City(s): manhattan is as much of a city as it gets What Did His, Her or Their Bedroom Look Like: somewhat tidy, eli’s always been kinda neat Any Sports or Clubs: couple mma tournaments, art club for middle school and first half of hs Favorite Toy or Game: fifa, amnesia, fleshlight, assassin’s creed etc Schooling: attended a public high school Favorite Subject: art Popular or Loner: god knows how bt popular Important Experiences or Events: being physically and emotionally abused by his father, and using that to better himself successwise and kinda spite his dad  Health Problems: does depression count? borderline alcoholic Religion and beliefs: his family is christian but doesn’t rly believe in his religion, he’s more of a logical thinker personally PERSONAL

Bad Habits: smoking, biting his nails, fidgeting, drinking alone, using certain people for personal gain Good Habits: typically neat and put-together, eats clean, works out religiously, dresses well, maintaining himself physically Best Characteristic: loyal to those he’s close to  Worst Characteristic: being consistently distant Worst Memory: Best Memory: Proud of: how he’s able to accomplish anything he wants to do Embarrassed by: his lack of ability to truly get close to/trust people Driving Style: lmfao did somebody say speed demon Strong Points: incredibly driven, charming when he wants to be, can’t think of any more atm Temperament: typically level headed, a bit of a grump but still playful yano Attitude: can sometimes be cold if someone tries to get too close to him, but typically socializes well despite this Weakness: elias would rather die than tell you what he’s really thinking. if someone actually manages to get him to open up he’d probably be a stuttering and babbling mess Fears: not doing as well as he wants to, because then he’ll feel like he let his family down. also his father still scares him a bit but would never ever admit to it Phobias: the dad 1 Secrets: lol nice TRY Regrets: NO RAGRETS. jk he kinda regrets not taking art more seriously bc now thats kinda gone as an outlet he’s picking up bad alternatives that’ll only hurt him nd his health Feels Vulnerable When: some1 tries to get closer to him Pet Peeves: loud chewing, nail filing, all i cn think of rn Motivation: working for the day he can say he outdid his dad Short Term Goals and Hopes: maintain his 4.0 and get into a good med school Long Term Goals and Hopes: become one of the top surgeons in the country Sexuality: straight unless u another matt daddario cos i mean come on Exercise Routine: nice try honey u cant get abs like these. Day or Night Person: night. absolute nocturnal fiend Introvert or Extrovert: ambivert! mostly introverted but he can also be v charming and social at gatherings etc. something he learned from bein the poster boy of the socialite fam Optimist or Pessimist: he doesnt like 2 complain a lot but i wouldn’t say he’s an optimist either

LIKES AND PREFERENCES

Music: arctic monkeys, the neighbourhood, the weeknd, muse, daniel caesar, frank ocean, dvsn, tame impala Books: anything khaled hosseini, haruki murakami, and mitch albom Magazines: forbes, if any Foods: cold pizza, sushi, seafood, apples, burgers,  dark chocolate, tiramisu Drinks: craft beer, whiskey and most other alcohol, black coffee, red wine Animals: tiger, wolf, big fan of husky dogs Sports: soccer Favorite Saying: “no." Color: red, black Clothing: urban style with a rich flair. leather, denim, expensive sweaters and  Jewelry: expensive watches, sometimes rings Games: poker, chess, cards against humanity Websites: pornhub uh, vine? TV Shows: sherlock, the office, stranger things Movies: the prestige, shutter island, borat, can’t think of any more Greatest Want: to stay on top of his class, take more time out for art Greatest Need: someone to be patient and understanding with him

LIFESTYLE

Home: live in the beta delta xi house, but his family owns a mansion at home. Household furnishings: his room is rather tidy. numerous black and white murals remain littered across his walls and above his bed rests a shelf filled with his favorite novels and vinyls. Most Cherished Possession:  Neighborhood: manhattan Town or City Name: new york Details of Town or City: very busy, very on-the-go, new york city is a definition in itself. Married Before: heck no Significant Other Before: he’s got a couple of exes that he’d dated due to having extra time on his hands. he’d always get bored rather quickly into the relationship and leave, however. now that eli has much less time on his hands, he no longer looks to date. Children: LOL Relationship with Family: hostile with his father, indifferent but still somewhat caring towards his mother. Car: not yet  Career: full-time student. Salary: n/a Other Income: n/a Dream Career: professional artist. Dream Life: providing for his mother and sister, living in a new mansion with a fresh start. would have someone he could be emotionally intimate with, though the thought of this currently terrifies him. Love Life: eli scratches his head at this foreign term. Sexual Turn Ons: taking control, fighting for dominance, idk he seems like he’d be in2 bondage lmafaodifgbl Sexual Turn Offs: bad head, feet, excessive talking, repressed moans, ���you like that?” no. leave my sight.  Hobbies: mma fighting, painting, taking pictures for painting inspirations, if getting drunk alone counts as a hobby hey be my guest Guilty Pleasure: bingeing martha and snoop’s potluck dinner party Talents or Skills: fights well, and can paint. can sex be a talent? Intelligence Level: very book smart, he gets this from his father. though eli has his moments (as does anyone), he is fairly street smart as well — although, he is very standoffish so it’s hard to tell sometimes if he’s being smart or just a closed-off prick.

[teddylawrence]

“Good morn’, Lawrence’s! The superior non biological child has arrived!”

Moving around in Kurt and Beatrice’s house was as easy as clockwork at this point, the familiar smell of cinnamon candles and an indescribable scent every house specifically had warmed Teddy’s chest, a smile he hadn’t even realized he had on his face appearing as he heard the call back from the rest of his family.

“Teddy! You’re late! You said you’d be here at three and it’s almost four!” Leaning down quickly to scoop up the smallest Lawrence, Teddy hugged Nadia tightly, her squeals as he spun her around making him laugh. 

“Sorry, kiddo. Bus ran late and took forever to get here ‘cause of all the snow. I’m not late to dinner am I?”

“No, mama’s letting me help her mash the potatoes now. C’mon, I’ll give you a turn.” She promised, grabbing Teddy’s hand and dragging him through the house once he’d put her down again.

The time between Teddy walking into his old house and the Lawrence’s all sat down for dinner, moments passing by in a blur of Teddy coming in and out of focus. He ignored the concerned glances and blamed it on a lack of sleep and no caffeine, but even after three cups of coffee before and during dinner, the only thing Teddy gained was a slight tremor in his hands. The haze he was walking through made him feel like he was underwater, scrubbing a hand over his face before clasping his hands together and bowing his head for prayer. He wasn’t religious by any means but Kurt and Beatrice were, so he put on a smile for them as Kurt began to thank God for all they had and for how whole he felt having their entire family together on Christmas. Teddy wondered what was wrong with him, why he was the one who felt so empty when he should’ve felt complete, too.

“Mikey, show Teddy a picture of your new girlfriend.” Bethany piped up as people began to pass around the turkey, a wild grin on her face that looked more like a lion’s right before it leaps to catch it’s prey than the innocent smile of a 13 year old who meant well.

Glancing between Bethany and Michael, a genuine smirk grew on Teddy’s face, an eyebrow raising questioningly at his younger brother, “No,” Michael said before Teddy could even open his mouth to question him, “No, I don’t have a girlfriend, so mind your own beeswax.” And then as soon as their parents weren’t looking, Michael flipped Bethany off quickly, doing nothing about her shriek of horror but laugh obnoxiously at her. 

-

“Well I’m glad school’s going well, hun. Grades are good too, then?”

Teddy blinked back into focus when he saw Kurt lean over and grab his plate from him, narrowing his eyes in confusion when he saw that it was empty but there were several stains to show signs of a meal completed. Heart skipping a beat, Teddy wondered if he really blacked out throughout the entirety of their meal, looking back up at his mother giving him surprised glances with a bewildered look on his face, “Huh? Were - were we talking about school?” 

“Jesus, how stoned are you?” Michael asked through snickers, standing up with his own plate, “Did you forget that you said you would help me clean the dishes too? I’m not doing this shit on my own.”

“Language.” Beatrice scolded him, shaking her head and sighing before slowly standing and giving Teddy the sort of smile that made his stomach clench with guilt, “I’ll help. Come now, we can get this done really quick with the three of us.”

Teddy’s body moved automatically, the fact that he couldn’t remember most of their dinner making anxiety squeeze tightly at his lungs, but he did his best to keep his calm as Beatrice began to fill their sink with soapy dish water. Wash, rinse, dry. The pattern gave him something to focus on.

Turning when he felt Michael nudge him, Teddy turned his head and saw his brother holding up his phone showing him a picture of a pretty girl Teddy remembered being over a lot during the summer, “Her name’s Lauren. Remember her?” When Teddy nodded, Michael just smiled proudly, looking at the picture himself as if it wasn’t obvious he glanced at it as many times as he could, “I know I gave Beth a hard time ‘bout it, but yeah. I guess we’re together, she’s pretty cool so.”

Teddy didn’t even have to glance over to hear the grin in Beatrice’s voice when she innocently asked, “Speaking of - I hate to ask you again but how’s that friend Lana of yours, hm?”

“Yeah, what the hell dude. When do we get to meet her? She sounds lit.”

The combination of discussing relationships and the mention of Lana’s name caused Teddy’s whole body to simultaneously shut down and also switch into fight or flight mode. Before he could even realize a plate he’d been drying slipped out of his hands, the sound of it crashing against the tiled floor made him gasp, staring down at his feet with wide eyes. “Fuck,” he blurted out, automatically dropping to his knees and picking up at the pieces of glass surrounding them.

“Teddy - Theodore, your hands! Enough!” Grabbing at his wrists quickly to cease his movements, Beatrice glanced all over Teddy’s face, a look of horror he’d never seen on the woman that adopted him colouring over her features. “Did you hurt yourself? What’s wrong?”

Doing nothing but blinking, still in shock over the events that just happened, Teddy finally felt the tears he’d released when his excessive blinking caused them to tumble down his face. Startled, he yanked his hands out of his mother’s grip, slapping them against his face to wipe at the tears quickly, only to let out a choked noise somewhere between a cry and a sob when he felt blood spread across his face. Teddy hadn’t even noticed that he’d cut his hands open, but tiny shards of glass from the plate he’d shattered stood embedded in his hands.

“Michael, get your father, please. Tell him to bring the first-aid kit.”

“No-” Teddy choked out, shaking his head, trying to wipe the blood he’d spread on his face onto the shoulder of the shirt he was wearing, body heaving with sobs now that he couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to. “No, no, I’m fine, it’s fine, I’ll do it myself. I can do it myself. I can do it myself.”

But the younger Lawrence had already run off, leaving Teddy and Beatrice alone. Using the cloth they’d just used to dry the dishes, she ran it over Teddy’s face, wiping off any blood that hadn’t dried and crusted to his face yet. “Please, Theodore, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help.”

It was ridiculous, and embarrassing, but Teddy couldn’t even catch his breath to explain how he was feeling even if he wanted to. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried so hard, if he ever had, the only time he was breathing was when his body heaved in air on it’s own. Hunched over as sobs continued to wrack through his body, Teddy wondered if this was how his biological mom felt, if she had a sudden mental breakdown just like this before she turned to the worst to get her through the day. He’d promised himself to never let himself do that, but it made sense to him now. 

He cried the entire time Kurt took out the tiny pieces of glass in his hands, and the entire time they wrapped his damaged hands in gauze. He cried while everyone ate dessert and he stayed in the kitchen, trying to catch his breath, and then he cried as he trudged up the stairs to his room. He cried until his body began to shake and there were no tears left, and even then he sniffled and sobbed to himself until his body fell asleep, only rising hours later when Michael slowly walked into the room, heading to his side of the room.

“I’m sorry. If I ruined dinner.” Teddy whispered, back to his brother. He couldn’t even face the other right now, humiliated that he’d witnessed the entire breakdown, “What’s wrong with me?”

The silence that followed was so long that Teddy was sure Michael was just flat out ignoring him. And he wouldn’t have blamed him if he was, but it still made his bottom lip tremble again, swallowing thickly around the ball of emotion caught in his throat. “Nothin’,” His brother finally answered, and even though he wasn’t facing the other, Teddy could tell Michael was lying specifically so that he could look at Teddy, “And you didn’t ruin dinner. I just think Bee’s, like, all freaked out and worried now. She was gonna talk to you about therapy and stuff tomorrow. Lame ass crap, but. Everyone has hard days. But maybe if you talked about it with someone you wouldn’t be crying like a baby at all our family dinners.” The teasing insult at the end made Teddy burst into laughter, it was shaky and sounded like he was about to cry again, but it was real. Turning over so that he could finally look at his brother, he saw that Michael had that same smile on that Beatrice had on earlier. It was a look of pity, and Teddy hated it, “And K-Dog told me to tell you that you gotta change the wrapping on your hands at least four times a day. Some gross stuff about not letting them get wet with ‘drainage’ whatever the hell that means.”

Teddy nodded at Michael’s instructions, letting out a small sigh as his eyes slipped closed, still exhausted from earlier, “God, I hate it when you call him that.”

-

The next time Teddy woke up, it was still dark outside, but he could tell he’d been sleeping for hours, feeling rejuvenated for the first time in forever. When he checked his phone it blinked back 6:12 at him. Kurt would be up soon, so if he wanted to make a clean escape it’d be now or never. Leaving behind the Christmas gifts he’d brought home for everyone, Teddy moved as quietly as he could out of his shared room after packing his things into his backpack. There was a lot he shoved in there, meaning to stay home at least until the end of the week, but he couldn’t get out of the Lawrence household fast enough any more. He hesitated as he moved to put on his coat after tiptoeing down the stairs, biting his lip as he considered his options for a second there. Teddy knew himself, and he knew that if he left now, the chances of him ever returning, any time soon at least would be slim. 

But the memories of the night before played in his head. Physically shuddering as he remembered how panicked the entire family had become, Teddy quickly threw on his coat, walking out the door before he could convince himself otherwise. The wait for the earliest bus back to campus was a long and solemn one. Teddy generally hated being left alone to deal with the shit he had going on his mind, but he welcomed the intrusive thoughts this time. There was hardly anything left to look forward to, anyway.

[lanamemories]

lana jameson aesthetic 1/?

ft. the winter wonderland ball. in lana’s own words, her outfit is inspired by sin city, an evil western sheriff and an amsterdam red light district dweller.

[eliaselliot-blog]

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big boy clothes

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trippyward You’re making it harder and harder to deny my fucking feelings for you dude. Home boy out here hot as fuck

[eliaselliot-blog]

♔ MOODBOARD 001; personality traits

ISTP →  the virtuoso ✔ confident, charismatic, poised ✘ impulsive, cold, calculated

[eliaselliot-blog]

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ho ho hornaments

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[svskiacohen]

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dimma-dubstep  ukulele version dropping next neek

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adamcohen i wish you wouldn’t include alcohol in your instagram pictures :( footpictures69 hello beautiful! check your dms!