laraxfitzgerald

[laraxfitzgerald]

astrafms·:

“i’m trying to own it, but i don’t see what you see when i look in the mirror. i don’t think i’m ugly, but i also don’t think i’m worth the time and attention it takes to get a free drink out of someone. nor do i think i have it in me to try and schmooze someone else. don’t get me wrong here, i completely respect the people that can do that, but i just don’t have it in my bones.” astra shot lara a look as she said this, her posture falling into a slouch, her elbows against the bar. in the next moment, however, a thought popped into her head, and without hesitation, she knew she could tell the woman next to her what was on her mind. “there’s this person — this guy — that i like. he’s still madly in love with his ex, and i’m madly in love with him. i’m pretty sure that’s what’s preventing me from owning it.”

                 Eyeing the girl as her posture fell into a slouch, the one Lara never could be seen in as the royal posture was a given, it was intriguing to Lara what she would say or do next. Love.. that was not the topic the older woman expected, not at all. And the older she was, the less she knew. “Does he know you’re in love with him?” Madly in love.. would that ever happen to Lara again? “An ex can be just an ex.. a memory, a regret, a never fulfilled dream.. yet they can also be the ex.” A hint of a smile found its way to Lara’s features as she gracefully put now the empty glass of whiskey onto the bar counter - buying time to come up with an answer.. the one Astra ultimately had to figure on her own. “It’s not his ex that’s important, but the two of you. Whatever you feel for him, nothing will change if you won’t tell him. Only then you will know what he wants.. and who he wants.” Speaking from her own experience, knowing she should have said more years ago.. perhaps nothing would have changed, yet perhaps he would have stayed. “It’s not easy, I know,” the brunette nodded to her own words, “but, darling, nothing worth fighting for is ever easy.”

#astrafms

[laraxfitzgerald]

fletcherliu·:

there were countless people in fletcher’s life that meant the world to him . his sibling , his cousin , the woman that he had been infatuated with for a little over six months .. it wasn’t as though the male was devoid of options when it came to those that he cared about . there were already countless inkings across his skin that pertained to memories , important moments in his life — chinese characters of his parents’ names , symbols that meant more to him than anybody else could ever discern . “ i got just the idea , “ the male responded , turning to lara with a smirk upon his features , “ you got a lot of your own ?? i can see a few of them . which means the most ?? “ 

             “Have you now?” Those oceanic eyes of hers were firmly glued to the book she brought as they were searching for the page where the much wanted quote was, but as the man asked his second question, her fingers stopped turning the pages of the old book as her eyes traveled to the man by her side. “Au contraire,” Lara smiled as she noticed his eyes were on her arms, “I tend to put most of my tattoos on my back, see,” dressed in a black silk top with thin straps that she paired up with vintage Levi’s, Lara removed her hair from the back, revealing only a quarter of the permanent art work on her body. “And some other places.. that way I’m not always reminded of them.” Her body was telling her story, but that didn’t mean she wanted to relive them all the time. “So, what have you decided? I’m curious.”

#fletcherliu

[laraxfitzgerald]

             It was unnatural to hear a door bell ring. If it were her brother, he would have let himself in. If it were one of the Westies, they’d meet at their headquarters, not at their boss’ home. It could have been Mrs. Scott from across the street, carrying yet another apple pie because Lara had to put on some weight if she wanted to find a good man, according to her dear old neighbor. But as she opened the front door it was hard not to contain a smile upon seeing a familiar face, the one she hadn’t seen in years. “Baby Cannon,” the brunette grinned, her happiness outweighing the surprise of him paying her a visit, “at my door. Oh, this brings memories.. come inside.”

@babycannxn​

#babycannxn

[laraxfitzgerald]

strikercannon·:

an empty stomach was nothing new . throughout his life , striker’s brothers came first . they had always been his priority , and so he willingly sacrificed his own wellbeing ( standing , tall and lithe , thanks to years of self-neglect ) to allow the others a substantial meal . “ well , that ain’t very festive of me , is it ?? stealin’ the birthday cake from the birthday girl … “ but his stomach roared , and soon his fingers were massacring the paper at the side , smushing sponge against his lips , a wild animal unsure where his next meal would originate . there were glimmers of his previous life still evident in the ageing male . although he was happy ( or as happy as he could be , given the circumstances ) every morsel was cherished , he was able to sleep in the strangest of positions , and even the most severe of farmyard injuries were blown off with a shrug and a shot of hard liquor . he had dealt with a whole lot worse when he was barely knee high on a grasshopper . with such a pure heart , lara was right — striker cannon deserved a whole lot more than the cards he had been dealt , but he had built a life for himself brick by painstaking brick to ensure every drop of happiness was squeezed from that dry stone . his free hand , the fingers not caked in dessert , waved in dismissal , “ i ain’t built for settlin’ down . i’m plenty settled . we got a trailer out in tripps , i live with my brothers .. “ although the home was littered with used beer cans and condom wrappers , it was home ; the closest to sanctuary , to safety , the boys had ever known . the logical next step , or the one that society had mapped out for him , was something that kept him thrashing with nightmares ; the very thought of creating his own family , of dropping the DNA of stephen cannon into another unfortunate soul , was hell incarnate for the oldest of three . “ i have a simple life . i work at the ranch , i get t’ pet cows all day , an’ astra’s cooks me meals sometimes from her mama’s ol’ recipes . i’m doin’ okay , “ ‘okay ‘ was the closest to happiness such a male could realistically achieve . a shake of his head , those silver streaks at his temples — the subtle signs of ageing — glistening beneath the warm hanging lights of the wild pony . “ ‘s not somethin’ i wanna risk . wouldn’t want a kid to grow up havin’ our kinda life , y’know ?? ‘s not fair on ‘em . they never asked for none of that . never asked for me to be their dad , “ because , as much as money and success seemed to shroud it , striker knew that lara wasn’t happy , that there had always been that crying girl that needed to be taken care of that never left the shower that night . he was the same , a small boy trapped in the husk of a forty year old , aching for the love of his mother , screaming out for somebody to take care of him for once in his life . for a moment , lara had been that somebody ; those blissful days were long behind them now . 

          “The birthday girl should have taken you out for a dinner, but..” offering him a mere shrug, it was pointless to act as if dinner was something she wanted when alcohol was in front of her. Even when she did throw birthday parties, for Lara it meant blowing candles on her cake, endless drinking and not leaving the dance floor till the morning. Her guests could have the cake.. and eat it too. “You spent four years with me.” Taking a sip of her whiskey, she quickly decided to drink the whole glass, as if something as small as a sip wasn’t enough anymore for her to go back to their past.. “You can settle down.” But what did she know? Perhaps both of them were destined to spend their lives in the wilderness because no one could really tame them, could they? No one could tame her. Not really. And she wondered when was the exact moment her husband realized that? That the beauty he married would never be truly his as he wished for. Lara Fitzgerald belonged to herself.. and only to herself. It was a hard pill to swallow down for her husband, but Striker recognized her as such, just as she recognized him. In the chaos of passion and angst, love was born. For four years they were.. one. “Astra as in that raven-haired beauty who should work on her self-esteem? I know her.. l like her.” There was someone taking care of him, a thought that made Lara softly smile.. but how different their lives had been, and it all came down to the same thing. They were not happy. They couldn’t even lie to each other about it. “Striker,” the birthday girl turned her whole body aside to face his, eyeing the man by her side rather curiously.. and it made her smile to see those silver streaks, remembering how there used to be a time where she’d spent hours counting them just as there was a time when she’d not speak, but kiss. Now she was sentenced to words.. “You’re nothing like your father. You have never been, nor will you ever be.” Lara Fitzgerald was the living proof for those misbeliefs of his.. she could kill each one of them. “I would have never spent four years with you if I hadn’t seen you as a someone with whom I could have a kid..” Taking a deep breathe, it was painful for her to see him thinking he’d fuck’ up his own kid, just as it was painful for her to talk about all of their what ifs. Especially those she had kept for herself all of that time. “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense because we hadn’t really started like that, but when I was scared that I was perhaps pregnant, and believe me, there was a time or two back then, what calmed me down was the fact that it was you in question.. you’re ready to risk your life a million times for me, there was no doubt in my mind you wouldn’t have done the same for our baby.” 

#strikercannon #alcohol tw

[laraxfitzgerald]

halfitz·:

     HAL TRIES TO HOLD BACK HIS BITE but emotions often run too high too fast for him, something he’s admittedly been having trouble reigning in for a while now, resulting in uncomfortable conversations he frequently has to keep apologizing for. this would be one of those times. “yeah, and you just have your life so together, don’t you?” he knows she doesn’t, none of them do, and even if she does, it’s not her fault that she’s always been far more poised and resourceful and intelligent than he could ever hope to be. ideally, it’s something he could at least try to model himself after, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t despise her even just a little bit that he can’t. “god, you’re such a bitch. i mean, you’d have to be, right? you’re a friggin’ lawyer.” it’s by no means malignant, a comment that he will later forget he’d ever made. he places the can on the coffee table and his feet propped up next to it. “what, you don’t wanna make time for me? i’m wounded, truly,” he adds, placing a sincere hand over his heart. he smirks upon the mention of striker. “so what’s up with you two, huh? seems like ya’ll been hangin’ out a lot again.”

         Unlike of everyone else in her life, Lara had to have it all together. She had no luxury to fall apart.. not when Westies needed to be led, her mother and brother taken care of. So as always, she was falling apart when no one could see her.. between the silken sheets of her bed, in front of her bathroom mirror where she’d stare at the woman whose face she didn’t know anymore. The only person who’d had the privilege of seeing the warrior queen falling apart was Striker, the one who’d carry that secret to his grave. “Am I a bitch because I’m a lawyer or am I bitch because you say so?” But she didn’t take it to heart, perhaps it was due to the patience she harbored or because she knew her brother didn’t mean it like that.. despite the sound of it. “He’s an old friend.. I am capable of having friends, Hal, believe it or not.” However, Lara knew Hal could still remember Lara & Striker as a couple, which if you asked the two of them back then, they were definitely not, despite everyone knowing the truth. It was one of those fatal attractions, where passion spoke louder than words.. even more so, it was love. It would always be from her side. “I’m sure you see him more, just as you see all of ex-Westies more than I do. But speaking of, what about you? Dating anyone?”

#halfitz

[laraxfitzgerald]

olliefms·:

people either went along with ollie’s antics or ignored them entirely, so as they saw that light smile play on the woman’s lips, they only took it as encouragement. nothing could stop them from going on a tangent now, ideas running wild and slipping out of their mouth before they could really be stopped. “okay, so we regroup and think of something new. back to the drawing board for us.” ollie’s elbow fell to rest on the bar, cheek in hand as they narrowed their eyes, clearly deep in thought. “for someone like me, that’s a pretty big compliment to receive, so thank you. i often have things like this trapped up in my head, and sometimes i get the bright idea to act them out on my own in my apartment. my neighbors think i’m crazy because they can hear me and see me through the window, but shockingly i don’t really care. why hide what i like to do just because other people are nosy?”

              “Excellent.” Westies would often say that their leader was incredibly patient.. protective and patient, yes. Those were two the adjectives they’d always attribute to Lara.. the good ones, at least. It was no wonder then that the leader was patiently listening to the other as they were sharing their ideas. “Scandinavians don’t have curtains on their windows and yet no one ever gets an idea to stop in front of a house or an apartment building to observe other people living their lives. They can, obviously, but they choose not to. The rest of the world, including us,” she chuckled because if there was anything Lara cherished, it was her privacy, “prefer living the lives of our neighbors rather than our own. But,” the older brunette softly smiled, “that shouldn’t stop you from living the life you want and as you want. People will talk in both cases, whether you do something, whether you don’t.. which gives you power to be yourself and do whatever you want.”

#olliefms

[laraxfitzgerald]

Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Promoshoot - 2001

#visage

[laraxfitzgerald]

aoifehq·:

the thought of returning home so often, the place that she once had been so certain was holding her hostage, almost caused a physical shudder. “ you’ll have to let me know next time you go, then i can ask you to bring me back some chocolate that doesn’t taste like shit, ” she deflected her discomfort with humour, choosing to shift the focus towards the small things she did miss about her home country. “ oh yeah ?? it was a big adjustment, but i had fun. camping was pretty terrifying though, i learned pretty quick it was best to just never venture outside of the bus at night. ” she had never really heard her wanderlust described as bravery before – if anything it was more closely aligned to cowardice. while it stemmed from a simple desire to see the world, it had quickly spirally into a need to never become tied to one place, to run whenever she developed any kind of attachment or when things got tough. perhaps that was why she still hadn’t made many close connections in roswell, the part of her that was getting tired of running aware that keeping people at a distance would quiet the impulse to pack up and move. “ well, it’s never too late, right ?? you seem like you’ve got money, i’m sure you can squeeze some extra holidays in. ” blunt, direct as usual. “ oh, that’s cool !! you definitely have money then. i’m a morgue technician. you’ve probably seen some of my handiwork as evidence, if criminal law’s your thing. ”

              “But of course.” Though Lara wasn’t so sure of when her next trip to Ireland would be considering the plans that had to be put into motion right here. “See, I’d never go camping. I do like nature, but.. I do prefer a huge bed and a 5-star bathroom with the underfloor heating.” Perhaps all of her love for adventures had died with years, but there was still that passion and undying love for motorcycle adventures. It was what she had missed these last couple of years.. her husband, he was never the one who was so keen on riding motorcycles, always doing it more because of his love for her, and to go on those kind of trips without him, it was appropriate, was it? How trapped she was.. it took her some time to finally see clearly how she was a bird in a golden cage. What was worse, she was one of those women who could buy themselves a thousand golden cages if they wanted to do so. It was never about money, it was about love. And she was still angry at herself for being so blind. “When you don’t have money, you’ve got all the time in the world, but when you have money, you don’t have time.. it’s one of those fucked up facts no one ever tells you. But,” Lara softly smiled at Aoife, “you’ve certainly inspired me to do something about that. Perhaps next time we see each other you’ll get chocolate from Japan.” But what caught Lara’s interest was Aoife’s career; a morgue technician.. oh, how she loved them. Well, more Westies than Lara, but hey.. it’s the same thing. “I’ve always been fascinated with your job.. and criminal law is definitely my thing,” even more so, crime itself.

#aoifehq #this was deeply buried in my drafts! I'M SO SORRY!

[laraxfitzgerald]

strikercannon·:

it was nothing lara hadn’t seen before , yet the shock never truly went away — between the notches of his spine sat bullseye markings of the ends of cigarettes , slashes from leather belts and backhanded hits striping flesh like some wild animal . aged , scarred wounds mimicked texas’ barren wastelands , troughs of gouged skin healed over from years of neglect . constellations of markings christened the flesh of his back , marbled with the hatred stephen cannon had inflicted on his oldest son day-in , day-out from the moment he was brought into that bleak , unpropitious world . no matter how much pain he experienced throughout their day to day , the bullet that had skimmed his arm and now left his bicep weeping red , it was merely a pinch in comparison to his childhood , a calendar of endless days where he was reminded just how meaningless his existence was . instead , he found solace in caring for others , in being the father his brothers never had , and the guardian angel for the woman at his side . 

“ no , no — we won’t be hassled , “ and although he didn’t fully believe his own promise , he stood by it for lara’s sake . the most they were likely to encounter were confused cleaners , were ladies with towels spiralled beneath their arms knocking on the door come morning ; he would politely decline their services , slip then a ten dollar bill , and request they came back in a few days , when the obsidian-black getaway car was as far down the texas highway as those worn , dust-marked tyres could carry them . “ we’ll be alright . we jus’ gotta get cleaned up ‘n i might see if reception got any band-aids or somethin’ for my .. “ a glance to his arm , “ ‘gator bite , or whatever the hell i told the guy at the desk . you reckon he believed me ?? “ was it concerning , that the image of staring eyes and a blank , soulless face hadn’t shaken striker ?? the male was already too far gone , hardened by the trauma , the nightmares , the thrashing terrors of nights where stephen cannon infiltrated his dreams and threatened to take him wherever his mother had ended up . he wondered , in those nights when him and lara were curled beneath silken sheets , whether georgia would have liked her , whether his mother would have given her approval to such a relationship . he could imagine it now — her freckled face scrunched , her auburn hair tucked behind her ears , arms outstretched to welcome her future daughter in-law … they were the moments that had been robbed from him . from them . as much as they dreamed , a regular ‘ relationship ‘ had never been within arms reach . 

the most he could show was tenderness , was empathy , as he slunk into the tub beside lara , taking her body in his arms and tugging her against his own . a stubbled chin rested at her shoulder , sweetly rocking them from side to side as crimson diluted through the waterways and swirled , alongside the dust of the desert , down a rusted and unclean plughole . “ it’s alright . i gotcha . i gotcha , “ he assured , although striker was sure his own blood — deep red , borderline brown thanks to a diet of garbage , tennessee whiskey and cigarettes — didn’t help the building anxiety . “ it’ll come off , see ?? “ his hand , roughened from manual labour and years of hard grafting , washed away a smear of crimson from her hand , leaving the skin beneath ( at the very least ) physically free of the reminders of violence , “ it’s comin’ off . jus’ gotta be patient with it . blood’s got a habit of not doin’ what you tell it to . “ perhaps that was what differentiated them , the westies and their competition ; such tenderness had no place within gang warfare , and yet striker would sacrifice his last shred of humanity for no man . it was the only thing separating himself from his father , after all . after a moment of silence , he responded : “ of course i’ll stay . ‘s long as you want me to , “ 

             She didn’t believe him. But she was grateful for his white lies. It was tonight she made her name an eternal part of the most wanted list. The one that was created by her fellow fallen angels.. demons, if you wanted to call them by their real names. “You told him that an alligator bit you?” Through her tears, she laughed. It was more a chuckle than laugh, true, but it was a start. If she could let out a chuckle, surely she would be able to laugh again. “Your brain..” in that small moment of amusement, the one she couldn’t see clearly through, Lara forgot the reason behind their entrapment between the walls of a kissed by dust motel. But if she could focus on him, the man who stood in front of her, then maybe she could stay in the fog that was protecting her from the clouds of reality she pulled down on them. If there were needed three months from summer to winter, from warmth to coldness, Lara & Striker had found that eternal truth to be entirely wrong.. it was enough to pull a trigger to fall into the depths of cold shades. 

               If it were any different day, any different moment, the one she’d have tried to capture forever, she’d have laughed upon feeling his stubble upon her shoulder, loving and hating how its harshness felt against the softness of her skin.. she’d be telling him to go shave it off, he’d be trying to kiss her, she’d be avoiding his lips while laughing her ass off, only for the two of them to inevitably find a way to show each other what they were unable to say. But today, all she could was to lean on him, let herself fall apart in his arms as her world was inevitably crumbling down. To see the blood as the rope that was pulling her up to the world that would mark her as a sinner till the end of it.. what kind of sentence would she serve for thousands of years? “But it’s not-,” the brunette wanted to protest her lover’s words, wanted to turn around and point at him how every part of her skin was still c r i m s o n  r e d, “how can’t you not see it? It’s-,” all over me, she wanted to finish, scream if she had to, but as her eyes fell on his hands, trying to connect his words with the images in front of them, give them meaning, she didn’t know what was real anymore. Were her eyes lying to her, was he trying to shield her from the monster she had turned into? “You promise? Because I feel it will never come off.” But what she didn’t realize, was how safe she felt in his arms.. her body wasn’t shaking so much anymore, while serenity was slowly taking its place. Was there a heaven above her?

               And she wanted to ask him why. Why would he stay with someone like her? How could he? It was only matter of time before she’d burn. But the fallen beauty turned around to face the man who was determined to burn with her, to find the truth in his eyes.. the truth they were determined to keep for themselves. And she tried to speak. Her lips had parted away, but to speak.. why? The loudest conversation they had ever had was at that moment, their eyes admitting the truth both would bury within themselves, as if more than happy to fall down to the bottoms of the sea with the anchor around their ankles to keep it safe. “You know that I didn’t mean to do it, right? Because I didn’t. I just.. you need to believe me because I really didn’t mean it, Striker, I didn’t, but I just-..” she couldn’t lose him. That was the truth she couldn’t say. Not because she was afraid to say it, but because she was too scared of that becoming a part of her reality. There was no way she’d ever lose him. She couldn’t. The thought of losing him, of not hearing that boyish laugh of his or to see those eyes of his sparkling with joy only child could harbor, she couldn’t bare it. No one told her it would be that hard, no one warned her taking her first life would drive her off the cliff into such a deep abyss, but for him.. Lara knew she’d do it a thousand times - over and over again. 

#2009: cross my heart hope to die #strikercannon #violence tw #gun violence tw #death tw #blood tw

[laraxfitzgerald]

beau-astrid·:

She released a small sarcastic laugh. Murphy’s law described it perfectly. Astrid was, by all means, a workaholic, and her one weak attempt at taking her mind off it ended up with her mind being unable to focus on anything else. “This is the type of fuck-up that could be handled without me, if the guy working today hadn’t payed his way through college and got the job through daddy’s connections.” She understood the irony of saying that when she had been born into wealth, but somehow it felt different (and annoying) when people fully took advantage of their privilege that way. “Honestly, if they just fired him, I’m sure I would have a lot more free time. Even if they didn’t hire anyone else.” She looked at Lara. She hadn’t really thought that she would enjoy the silliness of the town, having the image of a no-bullshit woman. Astrid didn’t really know all that much about the other yet, when she thought about it. “It really is fun, right? I was a big sci-fi nerd when I was little, it’s fascinating to walk around a town dedicated to it.”

            “I have always thought that one really starts learning after graduating from college. It’s only then when the real world hits us and all of a sudden you realize you don’t know anything,” it happened to Lara, especially when she was hit all of a sudden with the real cases and real people behind them, not to mention how life had hit her after her father’s death. “But also, there’s also that small thing called basic intelligence so I definitely understand why are you mad, but hey, use his mistake to your advantage. That’s what I would do.” Plus, Lara would crush them. However, that killer instinct of hers.. sometimes it was too strong to handle. “It is, I didn’t think I’d be enjoying Roswell so much, but it’s a city with a soul. Sure, an alien soul,” she chuckled, “but nevertheless a soul. Though I’ve never been a sci-fi nerd, nothing close to it.. you are still into it? See, I’m more of a.. music nerd. Is that even a term?” 

#beau astrid

[laraxfitzgerald]

fletcherliu·:

black box tattoo & piercing ! ( open for — @roswellstarters· )

there were inked etchings all over fletcher liu , from his knuckles to the tops of his feet , the scars he chose to inflict upon himself at a premium price — he trusted nobody with his body but the artists at black box and so , standing with biceps crossed over his chest , he scanned the sheets of flash pinned to the inside of the window , eyes narrowed in consideration . eventually he’d run out of space , tainting every inch of skin with hanzi characters or scripture holding relevance only to him . for now , though , he revelled in the spontaneity of entering the store without prior thought to what he’d emerge with . nudging an elbow against his fellow flash aficionado , fletcher spoke : “ what do you think i should get ?? i’ll entertain anything but the playboy bunny , “

            Lara’s father thought of his body as a journal, his tattoos being his stories.. it was the mindset Lara inherited. Each tattoo on her body, and she had more than eighteen at the moment - some of them being quite big - was reflecting a part of her life. Whether it reminded her of a person or a moment, they were memories.. much beloved ones. “A tattoo that will remind of you someone or something,” Lara replied back not even taking her eyes away from the book she brought. It was a quote from that book she wanted next, but firstly, she wanted to see the sketch of it. “That’s what I usually do.”

#fletcherliu

[laraxfitzgerald]

I've looked at love from both sides now From give and take and still somehow It's love's illusions that I recall I really don't know love Really don't know love at all..

#lara and her (ex)-husband #he stirred my soul in the most subtle way

[laraxfitzgerald]

riggsfm·:

“to be fair,” riggs hummed, his head cocking to the side just a touch as he leaned his head down slightly. “i’m an open book. i don’t keep secrets. so i’d tell anyone just about anything.” riggs had never been the type to hold secrets, had always thought of himself as an honest man, so perhaps that shouldn’t really come as a surprise to anyone who knew him - not that she did, but still. “doesn’t everyone love motorcycles?” one of his eyebrows quirked up as he spoke, before he added, “one of my favorite regulars loves them, too. an’ i’ve got one - usually take it out for rides on the weekends.”

         “To be fair,” she slowly pulled the corners of her lips up, “I was being polite and didn’t want to call you an open book,” the space between them was filled with the tones of Lara’s laugh, but upon hearing his last question, though it was a rhetorical one, her laugh was gone. “No, they don’t. It’s even a phobia to some. But to some of us, they bring freedom.” And chaos, if you ask the Westies. “Really, do I know him?” It could have easily been one of her gang members, a thought that made her chuckle. “You do? Nice.. I’d recommend going for a long, very long ride through the States, or through France and Italy. The scenery is amazing, while the roads.. quite fun.” Not to mention dangerous.

#riggsfm

[laraxfitzgerald]

strikercannon·:

just as the woman he once knew may have been lost to the passage of time , striker wasn’t sure the fresh-faced young cowboy existed anywhere in the corners of his existence . every so often there would be a flicker of joviality , a juvenile smirk , the excitement of a twelve year old boy if he was granted takeout food or if one of the puhlman cows gave birth , but for the most part those dark eyes were empty , devoid of color , deep-set and darkened from the bleakness of his life . fighting to keep his head above water , to protect everybody he’d ever known , had broken the male down to a husk ; there were glimmers of his former self in the brunette dye artificially clinging to his hair , the lingering smell of hay that clung to his skin , but otherwise he was a broken exoskeleton , a ghost of who he once was ( and of what he could have been ) . “ i guess i could try a bit . i ain’t eaten all day , “ a fingertip , dirtied beneath the nail from a day at the ranch , delved clumsily into the frosting , spooning a crest into his mouth and swallowing like a greedy , untrained pet . it was then that he buckled ; suddenly striker was a whole lot more appreciative of having a stiff drink a mere arms reach away . “ pretty personal question , dont’cha think ?? “ the male responded , lips to his whiskey glass , guzzling the amber elixir although it were water ; through years of testing his home-brew , from ensuring his moonshine was top quality every time , it took a reservoir of alcohol to get him feeling even slightly tipsy . “ i’m squeaky clean , if that’s what yer askin’ , and if yer askin’ whether i settled down .. i dunno , i don’t reckon i’ll ever get that far . i’ve tried what roswell has t’ offer — “ in the cargo bed of his pickup truck , in the graffitied bathroom stalls of the wild pony “ — but there ain’t a girl out there thas’ all mine , ‘cept big bertha , “ his affinity for cows outweighed his affections for any woman , save for perhaps his own mother . bertha was a listening ear , a broad shoulder to cry on , and her dulcet moos served as the only life advice he needed when the going got tough . rest assured , he would be spending the next shift at puhlman’s tucked away in her barn , knees to his chest upon a hay bale , recounting that evening’s events to the prize-winning heifer . “ jus’ keepin’ my eye on my brothers , y’know . keepin’ ‘em out of trouble . makin’ sure they keep themselves wrapped so we don’t gotta deal with any little cannons , “ the thought alone made the oldest of the trio shudder . simply imagining another drop from the family tree , another spread of branches , was near hellish .

                “You haven’t eaten all day? Here, darling,” the birthday girl put the cupcake in front of Striker, not a second thought given, but she couldn’t help but wonder was their time together the only time in his life when he actually led normal life? Well, kind of normal life. How did he live after her? Judging by what he had told her so far, his life was far away from the one she was accustomed to; unlike of her, money didn’t come easy to him, but unlike of her, he probably slept peacefully. Perhaps sometimes it was better to sleep in a trailer park than between silk sheets of five star hotels. “I think we passed personal years ago,” Lara simply replied as her fingers wrapped around the small whiskey glass. “And friends talk about the romantic fragments of their lives.” Yet, they were friends who were exes.. were they even friends? Or were they two people who were so close once upon a time that it felt as if they were magnets to each other, but were now distinguished into something far more.. peaceful. “You should have settled down,” the brunette finally replied as she thought over his words, trying to imagine how his life after her was. It made her sad, though.. the fact that both of them were practically on the same level as ten years ago. Nothing to show, nothing to brag about.. nothing worth talking about. Family, children, love.. it was still the same old story. Nothing. “You should have found a woman you’d care about, take the next step with..” trying to search for answers in his eyes, she sighed, feeling all of a sudden as the burden of her sins finally caught up with her. “Your life should have been.. different. I have always thought you were living a simple, nice life, made a family for yourself, or at least I was hoping that was the case.. you know, coming home to a straight out of oven apple pie and fresh lemonade, things like that,” she chuckled knowing Striker preferred drinks stronger than that one, but it was a part of the life she imagined for him. For everything he gave to her, he deserved it. For every moment of fear he had because of her, for every death threat made to him because of her.. Striker deserved better. It was wild to fall for her, yet he did it.. it was even wilder to survive the chaos their relationship was wrapped in, yet he did it. Would have his life been better if he had not left her? Would have hers been better? It wasn’t written in the stars for her life to be simple. “Oh come on, that’s harsh,” her words became lighter, though her eyes were still colored with worry and regret. “There will always be Laras who’ll need their wild Cannons in this world,” but despite the teasing, she understood what he meant, knew what it could mean to see the next generation. “I never thought history would be repeating itself, Striker. I see you and I know it’s impossible.” He wasn’t his father.

#strikercannon

[laraxfitzgerald]

I know I promised this is what I wouldn't do Somehow giving it the old romantic fool Seems to better suit the mood.

#ost: i could possibly be fading

[laraxfitzgerald]

strikercannon·:

although striker hadn’t a penny to his name , had detonated within every ‘ relationship ‘ he had ever attempted , there was one thing he could say for sure — and that was that he knew lara better than her damn ex-husband , whoever the hell he was . even when they were living the high life , hanging out the back of cadillacs and blowing their noses on dollar bills , striker had kept to the same uniform he wore day-in , day-out now he was in his forties ; trashed levi’s , converse or flaking alligator-skin boots , and a plaid shirt that had seen better days . despite his unkempt appearance , his reluctance to welcome the riches that had once been fleetingly his , he was more a man than the other ever had been , and he had shown lara the exact tenderness she had needed all those years ago . a shrug : “ well , i know you like flowers — err’girl likes flowers — but i’m meanin’ all this bullshit . all these grand gestures that don’t mean nothin’ other than showin’ off . it’s nice on the surface , sure , but you never were like the rest of ‘em . “ the wavering flame at the zippo enveloped the candle’s waxed end . after a second or two the orange flicker transferred , illuminating the slyly-obtained cake as striker sunk back into his seat , thumbing his whiskey glass before gulping a healthy mouthful . a thumb over his shoulder , he suggested : “ i reckon you should make a real big bonfire out back . like one huge birthday candle , one you ain’t blowin’ out . think o’ how big a wish you could get from one of them . hell , you could wish for world peace if you wanted . i reckon i’d wish for a lifetime supply o’ tennessee whiskey . “ although the opposite seemed the follow the pair of them wherever they looked — they had always seemed more comfortable in chaos . embers were the soft silks of a duvet after a long day .  rubble served as sand beneath their feet . danger was all they’d ever known . 

          What Striker didn’t know was how much her husband spoiled her.. from diamonds, emeralds and trips all over the world to those little flowers and love nots he would write her just to show her how much he loves her, and God, he did. But, that was before. Now all that was left were memories of once happy couple, ruined by the fights and late night calls. “You are talking about the girl you once knew. I don’t think she still exists, love.” But he was right.. even when it came to her husband, she preferred those small love notes over diamonds. Lara wanted to be loved, wanted to be wrapped in the safety of strong arms as her life was turning more and more into chaos. To come home, to take off the mask.. to be the girl who would always be the Texas’ rose, to smile innocently and honestly, that was what she had always craved. But as the warm light sparkled up her eyes, the birthday girl smiled at her ex before she leaned and blew out the candle on her birthday cupcake. It was enough.. more than enough. But she did make a wish, hoping it would come true.. to be truly happy once again. God, why was she getting so emotional? Perhaps staring at the enormously huge bouquet of her soon to be ex-husband while her ex was seating by her side.. chaos, truly. “Oh, really?” She took the cupcake into her hands and with her index finger tried the cream.. it was good. Excellent in fact. “Wanna try?” But while she brought the cupcake closer to her ex, she did laugh as she heard him talking about the bonfire. “That comes from the guy who loves playing with fire and now misses it,” still laughing, she in fact didn’t think his idea was a bad one. Not in the slightest. Perhaps in their minds they would never be older than thirty.. perhaps in some other world they’re still those crazy kids. “Look, I’ll take care of the lifetime supply of Tennessee whiskey, that’s a wish I can grant, but the world peace.. I think we’ll start doing that by throwing a huge bonfire in the back.” To put on fire every damn flower, oh yes.. besides, they both knew peace would never be a part of her life.. devil loved danger. However, before the warmth of fire would bring back danger to their lives once more, they had to drink those drinks of theirs. Though, you could bet they’d need minute or two for it.. drinking was never their problem. “You’ve never told me, what’s up with you? You’re with someone?” 

#strikercannon #alcohol tw #fire tw

[laraxfitzgerald]

#visage