toast-to-lonely-souls

[toast-to-lonely-souls]

i love people who are incredibly book smart but otherwise stupid as shit. i have a friend who got a 4.0 in college but had to ask me if there were calories in soap

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“‘Are you always a smartass?’ Nope. Sometimes I’m asleep.”

— Jim Butcher

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Reblog if your muse is over the age of 30

Put your muses age in the tags

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“If I could do it all over—“

His smile’s bitter.

“Probably wouldn’t actually hit him. But I’d at least have some strong words for him about my mom.”

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“I tried to run. Outside San Antonio.”

It’s a beautiful day. A huddle of high school kids are drinking milkshakes by the door.

“In hindsight I should’ve just cut my father’s throat while he slept.”

“Can’t say I disagree with that. Still don’t know why I never clocked that bastard. Still feel pretty good about hitting Leonard Wolf. Would feel a whole lot better if I’d followed through with punching your dad.”

Rather than moving onto his fifth cup of coffee, Wyatt guzzled down a few gulps of water as though that would magically fix his shaking hands and knotted stomach. 

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“I tried to run. Outside San Antonio.”

It’s a beautiful day. A huddle of high school kids are drinking milkshakes by the door.

“In hindsight I should’ve just cut my father’s throat while he slept.”

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“Been there.”

His laugh’s bitter as the coffee. His voice drops.

“Yeah, that’s a tough situation. I don’t blame you. I’ve done worse things—stupider things.”

Gideon sips his water. The Splenda tastes chemical and foul.

“I was a neurotic insecure mess of a teenager. What can I say? That’s how they get you.”

“ – actually been, uh… a reoccurring theme in my therapy sessions. Drivin’ the poor woman nuts, I’m sure, but… I just keep goin’ through scenarios. What I would have done if I’d known, could I have done anything, could have told someone… probably why I never settled down again. If I could be blindsided by that, what else could I get dragged into?”

It was a hoarse laugh, something that was entirely forced rather than nature.

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“Been there.”

His laugh’s bitter as the coffee. His voice drops.

“Yeah, that’s a tough situation. I don’t blame you. I’ve done worse things—stupider things.”

Gideon sips his water. The Splenda tastes chemical and foul.

“I was a neurotic insecure mess of a teenager. What can I say? That’s how they get you.”

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“Surprise. I suspect they burn the beans so every batch is identical.”

It’s Dahlia’s theory, but that part he keeps to himself. Doesn’t seem the time to credit Dolly with much of anything.

“You and Rosten—you were—“

Releasing a deep sigh, Wyatt scrubbed his face with his hands. He’d been through this before, but with his only friends now being those had suffered by George’s hand, it was to be expected. 

“Yeah. Couple years. He knew how to calm me down. I was drinkin’ way more back then, abusin’ pain pills, and wasn’t taking my meds as consistently as I should have. Last Stop was the first time I didn’t have any sort of structure – he knew I needed it.”

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“Surprise. I suspect they burn the beans so every batch is identical.”

It’s Dahlia’s theory, but that part he keeps to himself. Doesn’t seem the time to credit Dolly with much of anything.

“You and Rosten—you were—“

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“He cared about you.”

And then, seeing Maverick’s face:

“He was only mostly an asshole.”

That would be the easy way out, anyway. The most logical. Regardless of his actions, George Rosten was far more human than some of his counterparts, and it was believable enough to think he stored some of that humanity away in Wyatt for safe keeping. Except Wyatt’s mind rarely ever took the reasonable route. 

“I was a fool. Sort of all there was to it.” He said, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before finishing off the rest of his mug of coffee.  Changing the subject, Wyatt scrunched up his features and let out a small sound of inconvenienced disgust. “Goddamn, you’d think this shit would have been perfected by now.”

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“He cared about you.”

And then, seeing Maverick’s face:

“He was only mostly an asshole.”

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“Thought that was a given.”

He taps the side of the cup. Watches the Splenda dissolve.

“You kept Rosten in line, anyway. He was a whole lot nicer with you in the room.”

There’s a sad smile and he looks down at the inky liquid, allowing himself a moment to drift back and remember George how he’d once believed him to be. The memory brings more pain than pleasure. 

“Couldn’t do what he did if I knew about it. That’s all.”

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“Thought that was a given.”

He taps the side of the cup. Watches the Splenda dissolve.

“You kept Rosten in line, anyway. He was a whole lot nicer with you in the room.”

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“You’d think that was a low bar. You’d be wrong.”

The sardonic smile flashes again.

“I had a grown man call me a sissy and try to slap me into next week. And that was just an average Tuesday. You were substantially better than average.”

“No offense, buddy… but that don’t exactly make me feel better.” Wyatt said, compulsively picking up his cup of coffee again. If anything, just to hold it. 

“Shouldn’t even been like that in the first place.”

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“You’d think that was a low bar. You’d be wrong.”

The sardonic smile flashes again.

“I had a grown man call me a sissy and try to slap me into next week. And that was just an average Tuesday. You were substantially better than average.”

toast-to-lonely-souls‌:

@cxttonteethviolence

“I remember you. Not all that well. I was more worried about keeping the big boys away from my toys and, you know, whether I was going to see my mother again.”

Two packets of Splenda. Ice cold water. Negligible calories. Gives him something to do with his hands.

“You were a good guy back then. Still are. Uh. I mean. You were good to us kids.”

It’s been a bad couple of days. One of those periods where past traumas can clock a man square across the jaw, and leave him stunned with no direction by down. He’s on his fourth cup of black coffee, and grateful to have Gideon ask him out for the afternoon. 

Slurping down a sip of desperately needed caffeine, the momentary shock of Gideon’s confession caused Wyatt to spill down his shirt. “Shit.” He muttered to himself, using his napkin to dab away the fresh brown stains on his old, plaid button-up. 

“That’s uh, that’s nice a’ya.” He said, setting down his mug. “You guys were just kids. Just did what you’re supposed to do with kids.”

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@cxttonteethviolence

“I remember you. Not all that well. I was more worried about keeping the big boys away from my toys and, you know, whether I was going to see my mother again.”

Two packets of Splenda. Ice cold water. Negligible calories. Gives him something to do with his hands.

“You were a good guy back then. Still are. Uh. I mean. You were good to us kids.”

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Gideon looks at Wyatt. Looks at Father Rosten. Looks at Wyatt.

But Father Rosten likes the new man. That’s plain enough. And Father Rosten doesn’t like many people at all.

He flashes a sly grin and smacks Wyatt’s palm.

“Good boy.”

thewhitesaint‌:

“Looks like solid work.”

With his free hand he touches Wyatt’s back, lightly, kindly—

—but Rendell’s still watching with those huge dark eyes, and Rosten pulls his hand away quickly.

“Could use a few more like you, Wyatt.”

There’s butterflies and approval and human contact, and Wyatt’s anger melts almost instantly. His shoulders almost sag as the hand is taken away and he’s smiling warmly at the young man, ignoring George’s further compliments.  “Hey, kid.” He said, holding out his hand for a high five. 

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“Good news: my kids are still innocent and wholesome enough to play Star Wars in the backyard. Bad news: I have to be Chewbacca.”

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“Finally, in a low whisper, he said, ‘I think I might be a terrible person.’ For a split second I believed him - I thought he was about to confess a crime, maybe a murder. Then I realized that we all think we might be terrible people. But we only reveal this before asking someone to love us. It is a kind of undressing.”

— Miranda July, The First Bad Man

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same

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Oh No That Was Probably A Really Weird Thing To Say Wasnt It: A Memoir

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Alcohol is cool but have you ever had someone care about you? Me neither, pass the bottle.