---- truth or consiquence /

[eva]

---------- a large crash awoke stevie from her light slumber, her eyes flickering open in her dimly lit bedroom. the brunette slowly rolled onto her side, blinking several times to clear her vision. a scream sounded from downstairs, followed by the slam of a door. stevie groaned, pressing her face into her pillow as she did so. the door to her bedroom silently swung open, the small feet at the entrance causing the wood floor to creak. stevie whipped her head up from her pillow, her piercing, hazel eyes falling on the fourteen year old boy in her doorway. "stevie -" the seventeen year old sat up, pointing to her door. "get out, now." she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. "but i was just -" stephanie interrupted her brother again, standing up. "i said get out!" she spoke a little louder now, again motioning to her open doorway. archer crossed his arms, furrowing his brow as he didn't make a move toward the door. "get the fuck out of my room!" stevie yelled at archer, moving toward him. he was three years younger than she was, but he was already taller. "dad's on the phone, he wants to talk to you." he stated calmly, the lines on his face evening out. stephanie flared her nostrils, even more angry now. archer handed her the telephone, turning and walking out of the bedroom a moment later. the girl shoved the door after him. it slammed shut just as stevie clicked the 'end' button on the phone, throwing it onto her bed. she didn't turn the light on in her bedroom, because from the slight pounding of her head, she knew she was still hungover. it was eight pm, and she had just woken up. she was practically nocturnal, her sister had said, and though the brunette sensed the worry in lottie's voice, she had shrugged it off. she went into her bathroom, stripping herself of her t shirt and underwear. she turned the shower on, and as she waited for it to heat, up, she looked at herself in the mirror. her eyes fell on her wrists, as she slipped most of her bracelets off and set them on the counter. the red cuts were countless, up her left arm, and she bit her lip as she examined them. she let out a sigh as she turned and headed for the shower, stepping into it and shutting the clear door behind her. the hot water burned her skin, but she felt like she was washing away the headache and substances from the previous day, and she liked it. after about a half an hour, she got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body before she began to apply make up to her face. of course she was going out. stevie always went out - if she stayed home, well that's when you knew something was wrong. it only took her about fifteen minutes to apply her eyeliner, shadow, mascara and a little foundation - and by the time she had finished, her body was dry. as she entered her bedroom now, she switched the light on and began to look for something to wear. the best thing about having the father stevie had, was that he was rich. second best? that he was never home. she had her own bedroom, and a bathroom attached to it, as did lottie, preston & alexis. the older kids always got the best bedrooms, and it seemed that as soon as one of the callaway children moved out, the kids jumped to take their bedroom. eight of the eleven callaway children were still living at home, all of those who were under eighteen. lottie and stevie were the oldest, and though charlotte acted her age, stephanie found herself avoiding responsibility.

---------- the petite girl took about twenty minutes to decide what to wear, and another five to get dressed, before she grabbed her cell phone from it's charger as she sent a quick text to juliet. she'd offered to pick stevie up because the party the two planned to attend was near her house, and it wouldn't make a difference if she parked her car in her own driveway or the street outside the guy's house. stevie headed for the door then, switching the light off. she used to bring a purse with her, but nowadays she just finds it's a burden to drag along. she also hates having to worry about where she left it, especially because she's usually drunk out of her mind near the end of the night and has to spend a half hour tracing back to where she last left it. she shut her bedroom door shut behind her, her hand lingering on the silver door knob for a few moments. she usually locked her door, because she couldn't stand it when her sisters went into her bedroom and took her clothes, or her jewelery, without asking. actually, even when they asked, it bugged her. though, most of her clothes were a lot more revealing than either her younger sister or her twin sister wore, so she didn't usually have to worry. the staircase led right into the dining room of the callaway residence, and as she made it to the bottom of it, she walked in on her family eating dinner. it wasn't exactly a family, it was a bunch of kids getting food shoved into their mouths via their nanny. oh, the callaway's 'nanny' is who bothered stevie more than any of her siblings. "where are you going? it's time for dinner. and your father called me, he wasn't too happy and he went on to tell me that you hung up on him a little bit ago. now, stephanie -" the petite girl interrupted mary as she set a plate of macaroni and cheese in front of stevie's six year old brother, samson. "oh my god. shut up, you talk too fast. i didn't want to talk to him, so i didn't. it's not your business," she said with a shrug as she reached over her ten year old brother, vincent's shoulder and grabbed a piece of his bread, taking a bite of it. mary crossed her arms, standing on the other side of the table, as she spoke again. "he's your father! and he wants to talk to you, stephanie. i'm sick of your attitude, where do you think you're going?" she inquired again, her foot tapping on the wooden floor. her impatience would crack stevie up if she weren't so bothered by the woman. the brunette raised her eyebrows as she turned to leave. "whatever," she shrugged as she started walking, "none of your business." she growled as she exited the dining room. she heard urgent footsteps behind her and she sighed as she headed for the door. "cut the attitude," mary ordered at her, and stevie turned around and let out a loud, mocking laugh as she took another step backwards. "okay, mom. whatever you say!" she laughed, turning around again as she reached the front door and turned the knob. "watch it, stevie, or you're grounded." stevie burst out laughing then, turning to look at mary before she exited the house. "fuck you, mom." a large smile spread across her face then, as she slammed the door shut behind her. she called mary 'mom' a lot. she knew it bothered her a lot, because she'd heard her father talking about how the woman couldn't have children of her own and that's why she nannied a lot. she also knew that it bugged her because mary had known stevie's own mother, and they'd been close friends. one of the brunette's endearing qualities was that she could piss the most down to earth person off with just a few words, if she knew their triggors.

---------- as stevie and juliet arrived at the party, night had fallen and the cool, fall breeze ruffled the tree's leaves as it blew the girl's hair around her face. the sky was dark, cloud covered and thunder rumbled in the distance, a warning of the storm to come later that night. she pushed the front door of the house open, as music instantly boomed in her ears. a small smile formed on her lips as the scent of alcohol drifted toward her, and with that smell came the warm smoke of marijuana. from the first moment her lips touched the plastic, red cup, the night became a blur. she wasn't sure what she was drinking, exactly, it was from the punch bowl so she assumed it had been spiked with smirnoff or everclear - she was positive it wasn't a rum because she'd be able to taste it in the juice mix. the night seemed to speed past, and stevie went from talking to a few people, to dancing, to taking shots; smoking a blunt or two, and finally to body shots. by that time, she was pretty much gone when a male friend of her's approached her, a white paper towel in his hand. "steeeeevvviie wonder!" the guy exclaimed, slinging his arm over her shoulder as he leaned against her. "whatttuppp connor!" though stevie didn't actually know the guy that well, she'd hooked up with him earlier that year, and they'd been friendly with eachother ever since. they'd text eachother now and then, usually about a party or bar hopping, but that was all their relationship was. he didn't go to hollow creek, nor the public school, and she wasn't sure if he was in college or not. she just knew he was a few years older than her. "how's your night?!" he asked, pulling letting his arm fall off of her. she didn't notice the paper towel at first, but as he had started talking to her, he unfolded it. maybe eight or ten white pills sat in his palm. "do you want a few?" he asked, holding his hand toward her. the girl's judgment had never been the best, and though she'd never made this mistake before, she reached for the pills in his hand. the only pills stevie usually took were prescribed, for her sleeping problem - never anything else. especially when she didn't know what the pills were, but at this point she didn't really care what happened to her. "how many do i take?" she asked as she gathered three in her hand. he smiled, slipping another into her hand. she dropped the pills into her mouth, downing them with a sip from the drink in her hand. the night became very confusing from there. her eyes fell on a good looking guy, dancing on top of the pool table in the middle of the room. everyone was watching him, laughing, because he was obviously wasted and making a fool of himself. she found herself at the side of the table now, climbing onto it with him. she found her body moving with the music and with the guy next to her, grinding with him and soon enough she had pulled her shirt over her head. the guy she was dancing with took it from her and threw it off the table, causing stevie to erupt in laughter as she pressed her body against his. her sober self would be slightly embarrassed by the way she was acting, but that person was very far from the girl she was now. because stevie, sober, was a pretty depressing sight. she rarely smiled, and if she did it was to cover something. rarely did she try to hide her feelings from people - she was honest, and blunt, and she told things how they were. she didn't play games.

this post is tagged for braiden/lizzz <3, it is complete and about 2276 words long. stevie's currently looking something like this, and the inspiration for this post came from the amazing kelly clarkson, "i hate myself for losing you." last but not least, i gotta say i've been lazy so sorry this took so long!

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[thatcher]

_{braiden pinched the bridge of his nose, how the fuck did he always get dragged into the epic fights between his mother and briony he would never know but quite frankly he was getting tired of it, especially since half the time he couldn't help but side with his mom, it pissed briony off to no end but unlike lorelai she'd never held it over his head. lorelai was still determined to fix him with the silent treatment since he'd thought mom was perfectly right in grounding rory for missing her midnight curfew by three and a half hours and not even bothering to call. by now you would've thought they'd learn not to call on him for his opinion when he was always the one who'd managed to stay objective in all matters. he'd defended them with their mom on several occasions or asked for leniency on their behalf but if they were wrong they were wrong and that's the way it went. then again over the years he might've learned to just duck out of the room when the shouting started or claimed switzerland as they pestered him for his opinion. he looked from between his mother and brion like he was watching a tennis match until movement shifted from his left and he saw his dad trying to be sneaky about backing out of the room and he shot him a "please, help me look." to which his father answered with a cheeky grin and shrug before he turned and jogged down the hall from their expansive kitchen, and if braiden were a prick he would've called after his father to stop him, but he hadn't, instead he'd sighed and leaned against the stove, which apparently was too much sound when he wasn't directly spoken to and briony turned on him, "what was that for, brady, did you have something to say?" the male shut his eyes a second before he shook his head, women took everything personally. he was about to attempt his fathers same escape route when an arm shot out and grabbed his shoulder, and he was met with his mother's piercing stare, "your father thinks he gets away with it but he doesn't, you stay put." he didn't understand how somehow this had turned from briony being in trouble to him also being in trouble, what more had he done then come into the kitchen for some fucking goldfish when they were about to re-enact the ufc fight him and bradley had watched earlier. "mom, briony does ha-" his mothers head whipped back to his direction, "i don't believe anyone asked you what you're opinion was, did they?" and under that stare he felt kind of like a child again, "what mom? can't stand to be wrong anymore, what happened to..." that's where the yelling had taken on a whole new octave, something that he was amazed he could hear since it was so shrill it should've be meant for dogs. scrubbing his face for a moment he groaned before he put two fingers in his mouth and gave a high pitched whistle, "enough!"}

he yelled, stepped back from his mom a little as she looked like she was going to reach behind her, there was a wood spoon and he'd learned quickly over the years not to mess with his mom with a wooden spoon, or really anything you could gt a good heft behind for a beating, she knew how to put the fear of god in about anyone, "both of ya'll are losing your shit over nothing and being unreasonable," he said against both of their glares, "give it a rest and come back to it in a hour, will ya?"[ he said shaking his head, "preferably after i've left," he continued under his breath as he finally made his way out of the kitchen, feeling the stunned stares of briony and his mother locked on his back.

if this was normal family arguments... he shook his head again as he made his way through the halls of their oversized home and up the stares to his room. admittedly he'd seen worse, by most standards his family was pretty functional, they were met with a shitton of arguments but with sixteen year old twins, a ten year old, nineteen and twenty year old all under one roof it had to be expected right? it wasn't the chaos of families he knew that were actually smaller then the spence clan so he figured maybe he shouldn't have been complaining. as his thoughts trailed to stevie - which happened much more often then he ould ever dare admit - he realized that yeah, it could hve been a whole lot worse, he wasn't sure exactly how many siblings she had, the way she talked clearly said way too fucking many, all of which had somehow morally and irreversibly offended her sometime over the course of her seventeen years. even a few of bits of her daily commentary about the brood told him he was much luckier then he'd sometimes like to think... he heard an angry pounding at his door, "just shoot me now...WHAT, BRIONY!?" he replied irritated not bothering to pull himself off of his bed to answer the door and glad that it had just become habit for him to lock the door, "what the fuck was that down there, brady? you shouldn't have yelled at mom like that." braiden rolled his eyes as he pushed himself off the bed and pulled the shirt over his head upon seeing the time, "got her off you're back, right? so, what are you bitching for?" he didn't wait for her muffled answer as he stepped through to the attached bathroom, shutting the door loud enough so she'd know that he'd checked out of the conversation that he'd gone off to the bathroom or to the balcony connected to is room. she was probably heading downstairs and through the garage now to head out back and yell up at him on the balcony, it had happened more then once or twice and it normally ended up woth him throwing a book down at her. a book that would never actually hit her but come close enough to let her know he was not interested in keeping the conversation going and that was why he'd left her stranded at the door to begin with. he'd stepped into the shower now, letting the almost too hot water unknot the muscles of his back. there was a party he hadn't originally planned on going to tonight but given first week back at university stress and the overall fuckery that had popped up around his house he was in desperate need of getting the fuck out and letting loose a little. stepping from the shower he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed towards his closet which held an overabundance of shorts, plaid shirts and simple v-necks but his style was easy it didn't matter how many times his sister had tried to overhaul his entire wardrobe it never worked out, he'd either refuse to cooperate or the clothes she picked got shoved to the back somewhere. the fact he actually owned more then three pairs of jeans should've made her happy, because unlike his sisters he didn't see the harm in getting caught wearing the same outfit or even wearing the same pair of pants more then once a week if they weren't dirty, sure they had the income for a disposable wardrobe but he wasn't really interested in it.

showered and changed he headed down stairs, glad that he'd managed to avoid a run in with briony or his mother, because he was actually kind of feeling bad for yelling that that, or at least for yelling at his mother, but at some point everyone just reached their fucking limit right? passing though the kitchen again to finally get a hole od his goldfish he caught rosalie reaching for the cookies in the cake plate and he wondered if the sight could've gotten anymore clichéd, chuckling a little he came up behind her and pulled and arm around her waist, "hello, little cookie monster," he said over her squeal turned giggle, "are you meant to be having any of these yet?" he asked, recalling the samily dinner they were meant to be having in town with his aunt, uncle and their six kids, rosalie shook her head, her aubrun curls bouncing a little, with a grin braiden pulled two from the plate and handed them over, "don't tell mama, alright?" he said before set her down and kissed the top of her head, "move along, doodlebug. oh, and you didn't see me here." the girl ran back over to him and held up her pinky which he took with his own a soft smile spreading over his lips. a couple more years and she'd be just as big a pain as his other sisters, but as she ran off now he was glad she wasn't. shoving a literal handful of goldfish in his mouth he stepped down into the garage and got in his car. it took him no time to get to the party and as he parked a few houses down he had to wonder why he'd even bothered driving. brushing a hand over his slighly damp hair braiden entered the house and immediately had a red plastic cup shoved in his hand, nothing new, and he downed the beer in no time, grimacing a little as he realized it was light. could no one have sprung for decent fucking alcohol? half of these kids had trust funds bigger then texas, it's not like they couldn't have afforded it. he made his way through the party easily catching up with people here and there, tossing back a few shots with some of his old riding buddies, taking a hit off of a bong some of his old surfing buddies that he hadn't seen since he'd left for north carolina the year before, before he moved on. braiden had always been a drifter, he wasn't set to one group of friends, something he'd always kind of been thankful for, yes, he had his two best friends and a few people he would most likely call on a saturday night but for the most part he had friends in most places, he wasn't the guy everyone loved or anything he had his fair share of enemies, he was stubborn and rather protective over his sisters which had gotten him into his fair amount of fights, all of which he'd won, so he there were plenty of people who weren't his biggest fans but he was pliant, knew how to adapt to different people. it was a talent that was helpful on nights like these when he grew bored of whatever activity the people he'd settle with had gotten stuck on. heading towards the back he heard the unmistakable signs of beer pong and he shoved a little to get back there faster, beer pong was his ultimate weakness. after three games he'd proved his superiority and a little blonde had taken his hand before he'd agreed to a forth, "care to dance?" she'd asked him, with a grin he nodded, letting her lead him back through the winding house, an eruption of laughter and cat calls hit their ears and they'd stopped, he looked easily over the crowd to see the commotion and he wasn't surprised to see stevie, yeah, this was her natural habitat. he watched her for a moment a little hypnotized until he saw a hand wave in front of his face, "what's going on? i can't see?" asked the blonde with a pout, "just a girl dancing on the pool table..." he ignored the blondes disgusted look as he looked over again with another loud cheer booming around them, and there went her shirt. considering for a moment he dropped the blondes hand and went to move his way through the crows, "what the fuck are you doing?" the blonde demanded digger her nails into his arm a little, "i know her..." was all he said pulling his arm back from her grip and pushing through the crowd which was pretty easy, he was used to parting crowds, he was taller then like everyone and he guessed he looked kind of imposing.

he made it halfway through the crowd when he first called her name, he took the other half of the room in about two long steps, and stood at the edge looking up at her, slightly amused that even standing on a poll table she still wasn't that much taller then him. "stevie, what the fuck are you doing, get down.." he said grabbing her hand, he felt someone shove his arm away and he looked at the guy who'd be grinding against her, "who the fuck are you, leave the girl alone, she's having a little fun..." because that wasn't ripped from very crappy teen drama, braiden sighed and ignored the boy looking back up at stevie, "legit, you need to get down, you look like a dumbass..." he heard the guy next to her open his mouth again with the typical "i'm a tough guy you need to back up" bullshit and mixed with stevie's protest it was enough to make him roll his eyes, with a sigh he shoved the guy back as he attempted to get in braiden's face and then pulled lightly at stevie's arm thankful for the alcohol and god knows what else running through her system that it didn't take much to teeter her and he caught her easily as she fell. he met her irritated glance with a smirk as he carried her back through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of the guy she'd been dancing with, he walked her only so far as the front steps before he stopped, "if i out you down are you going to try and go back there or let me take you home?" he asked staring down at her, "you've had enough so i'd really suggest the latter..."

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this post here is dedicated to stevie/the lovely evaaaaa and it's complete. pretty much i've got about two thousand three hundered and sixty five things to say to you. rosa forgot her pants again in this little number here. this template was inspired by the lovely miss kaye! those lyrics up there belong to gergory & the hawk from their heartbreaking song; boats & birds, but right now i'm rocking out to nick jonas "london(foolishly)". oh, i can't forget to say; it's no problem but ditto. you shouldn't have to wait this long again. [/blockquote][/font][/sub] [/justify]

[eva]

---------- stevie remembered a time when every new day was something to look forward to, rather than something she dreaded. yes, there was a time in the seventeen year old's life that she didn't despise the world, or herself, for that matter. in fact, the girl had only developed this view on the world a little over two years ago. she'd always been a fairly happy child. of course, she'd been a little bothered by the fact that her father was never around. and she, even though she would never admit it, actually missed her mother. she'd never been very close with either of her parents, but if she had to choose which one she knew better, it would be her mother. it was more like her father to be away all of the time, having affairs and forgetting about his responsibility which was his first family. stevie resented her father more and more over the years, though as the girl slipped into her depression, her aversion turned into hatred. she was no longer bitter, she hated him; for never being around, for never being there for her or her siblings, for never being a father. she'd never voice this, especially the siblings part, because she could honestly care less for her brothers and sisters. she didn't hate them, like she says she does, but she didn't like them all that much. or know them, or love them. she'd always felt like she was raising herself, because the nanny pretty much did nothing but shove food into their mouths and shut them in their bedrooms at ten o' clock. considering the way stephanie turned out, it wouldn't be surprising for someone to find out that she didn't have a parent to teach her wrong from right. she was missing that sensitivity gene, actually she developed the complete opposite of sensitivity because what stevie did was figure out someone's weak spots, and point them out. not only that but poke at them, because making other people feel uncomfortable gave the brunette quite a laugh. other people's pain also amused her; everyone expects people to comfort them when they're upset. stevie just kind of laughs it off, probably because she didn't have anyone that was there to comfort her when she was in pain. the girl pushed everyone away, so it's not like one could help her if they wanted to. one could say she was a troubled girl, but then another could argue she's just pure evil; just like her younger brother called her, "evil bitch."

---------- the petite girl pressed her body against that of the older guy she was dancing with, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other pressed against his chest as she grinded against him. she heard a familiar voice behind her, "stevie, what the fuck are you doing, get down.." right away, her brain willed her body to turn toward it, and it took a few moments for her muscles to interpret the instructions. she turned her head and part of her body around, her eyes scanning the people near the front of the crowd just in front of the pool table. she furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to speak as the guy she'd been dancing with told him off. sometimes, she didn't understand men. the smallest of them could be so smart-assed as to challenge a guy that was at least a foot taller than him, and obviously a lot stronger. it wasn't as if the guy she'd been grinding with was a pipsqueak - he was taller than stevie, though five foot three wasn't too difficult to beat - he was maybe a little taller than average, a little skinny but he had a decent amount of muscle bulging from his upper arms. braiden's next remark made stevie a little more angry. maybe not angry, just pissed off, she wasn't one to let something small like this ruin her night. "'legit,' you're acting like a tool, leave me aloneeee." she said, mimicking him, though she wasn't sure how much of what she said he understood due to her slurring of words and how she dragged out the second half of the sentence. she knew she sounded extremely stupid when she was drunk, but she was drunk..so she didn't really care. "'hey wait! i can use this, time, this is an example of you being an asshole!" she exclaimed, the words she spoke confusing her. the guy that had been next to her on the pool table was suddenly on the ground, and she wasted almost fifteen seconds trying to figure out when he got off of the table and why she hadn't noticed. the guy tried to intimidate braiden as he stepped toward him with warning body language. it made stevie giggle slightly as she watched it because the guy barely made it up to braiden's shoulder. suddenly, she felt a warm hand wrap around her wrist and tug gently, throwing her off balance and causing her to sway to the side and fall off of the table. she felt her body softly hit braiden's chest as he tried to make her stand upright and released her. she felt him pulling her through the crowd of people, several pairs of eyes locked on the two. "braidddennn, why did you dooo that i was having fuunn," stevie whined, grabbing his upper arm and wrapping hers around it. there were only a few times stevie was happy. they were when she was drunk, when she was high, or if she was with a guy. happy isn't really the best word to describe her at those times - content may fit better. because honestly there was no time the girl was truly happy. that's clinical depression for you. she used to really love to play the piano. since she was young, she played the piano and she loved it. she also liked to sing, just when she was in a good mood or in general. writing songs, too, they were all things she enjoyed - she'd always been musically inclined, she also started learning the guitar a few years back. but she found herself avoiding playing and singing at all costs, she didn't want to do them anymore. almost a year ago now, she'd began to drift into this depression, and about six months ago she started to cut her wrists. at first it was for attention, and when she first did it she cried uncontrollably. it had been in the shower so she knew nobody would notice, and even if it were in the middle of the callaway home, she might not be noticed. the second time, she liked it. she liked that she had a reason to cry, and she liked that she was hurting herself. it sounded sick but she did enjoy it, because she really didn't like herself that much and she was harming herself and that made her feel a little bit better, like maybe the more she did it the less of a bother she would be to everyone else. maybe if she dug the razor in a little deeper and bled to death, people wouldn't hate her so much. she'd just be that girl who killer herself, not that bitch who picks at people weak spots, gets wasted every weekend and fucks someone's boyfriend. but she was embarrassed by the marks on her arms afterwards, wondering what in the world made her so stupid as to cut herself on the wrist, somewhere so obvious. she knew there was a very key vein there but it was a lot more difficult to hide the marks. so she began wearing bracelets. a lot of bracelets, only a few on her right because she didn't have any cuts on it because she was right handed. she had a lot on her left, covering maybe six inches of her wrists, including the red cuts. though she liked hurting herself, she really preferred to sleep. sleeping and partying were two things she could never get sick of. when she was awake in her house, it just made her even more depressed. it's sad to say that her family made it all worse, but it was true. she never felt at home in her own house; of course, her bed was very homey to her. she loved being wrapped in blankets and curled up in it, and that's when she was content. but if she was conversing with one of her siblings, it just upset her, even if it was normal conversation. so she tended to keep those exchanges as short as possible; if she could, she wouldn't even have them. when she had to talk to the nanny, it made her even more angry and upset. she hated mary's attitude - she hated that the woman thought she was stevie's mother. not even her mother could be a mother, so why should this stranger?

---------- the brunette let out a quiet groan as she leaned her body against braiden's. her head was beginning to spin a little faster, making her feel the slightest bit nauseous. "i don't feel very good," she mumbled quietly as she shut her eyes for a moment before she felt braiden stop walking, causing her to come to a halt as well. "if i out you down are you going to try and go back there or let me take you home?" she opened her eyes again, a small smile spreading across her face. her smile quickly faded into a frown as he suggested taking her home, and she crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip. "i want more though," she said with a pout. she knew she shouldn't have more, but she wanted it, and it made her feel better. she knew if she drank more she was more likely to get sick, and considering she already felt a little sick. she'd be fine, though, if she didn't drink or take anything more. or that's what she assumed, at least, because she was used to this feeling. the alcohol made her stomach burn when she downed it, and for several minutes afterwards. for awhile she'd feel like she was completely sober even though the alcohol was slowly kicking in, and suddenly she'd stumble over and realize she was drunk. she could never figure out when exactly she started feeling tipsy, but she knew she was pretty much wasted when she tried to sit down on a couch and fell onto the ground because she had misjudged the distance to it. she did a lot of stupid things like that. stevie groaned again as braiden guided out the front door of the house, leaning almost half of her body weight against him now as she tugged lightly on his arm, trying to convince him to head back into the house. "where are we goingggg?" she mumbled the question, dragging out the last word in the sentence as she lifted her left hand to her face, tucking a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear. she pursed her lips as even a drunken mind was aware of the red cuts that existed on the inside of that arm. she nibbled her bottom lip softly as she moved her left arm toward where her opposite arm was wrapped around braiden's. she gripped his upper arm tighter, trying to walk a little more on her own even though she tripped over her own feet a little, stumbling down the walkway.

this post is tagged for braiden/lizzz <3, it is complete and about 2276 words long. stevie's currently looking something like this, and the inspiration for this post came from the amazing all time low, "remembering sunday." last but not least, i gotta say lalalaaa.. i don't know hahah.

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[thatcher]

braiden was a fairly well-adjusted kid, he came from your pretty average family. the scene with his mother and sister might not have entirely suggested but briony was less then three weeks from getting married, it was a bridezilla thing? as a general rule they didn't really fight, not seriously, they had their spats, their were five of them in the house, of course there were going to be fights among the kids, but really they were all very close. lorelai and bradley were the closest, but they were twins, so of course they were. him and briony though, they were partners in crime, they were always getting into some kind of shenanigans, they were thisclose to getting arrested when they'd met briony's fiancé. it was normal that they had legit family meals, that his mom came home from work and started on a too big dinner, their dad made his way home about an hour before it was all ready and they sat and talked about their day. half the time he felt like they were ripped from a movie as they gathered around the tv for sunday football or when a nascar race was on. it all felt a little cheesy but he didn't care, it was better then the constant yelling he saw in some of his friends house, he could stand to be in the same room with any of his family members for more then thirty seconds and it didn't bother him to stay home and visit with one or all of them. there were times he would've preferred going to a barbeque at a friends house but he'd stay home with lorelai when her boyfriend broke up with her and all she wanted to do was cry and watch movies. he went shopping with briony or helped bradley with his math and had endless amounts of tea parties with rosalie, who had always been his little shadow. so his life wasn't always the most exciting thing in the world but he couldn't complain. he wasn't some depressed suicidal bastard who felt like he had no escape, like he saw in some of his friends. or even looking at stevie and the tumultuous relationship with her family, that was dysfunction. he felt guilty for thinking it, but it was true. he also worried for her, she may have always been kind of a bitch to him... okay, a whole lot of bitch to him, but he didn't know what it was about her. he was into her, sort of. he thought she was cute, and underneath it all he thought there might be a nice person under there. she just had her issues, like everyone did and a lot of it was the chaos at home. the way she talked about her siblings... he'd tried to imagine the worst fight he'd ever had with briony and he'd still never wished her dead, she'd ratted him out for coming home from smoking some pot with his friends, past curfew and drunk, he'd gotten an attitude with her and she told. he'd been grounded for a month and a good chucnk of that time he'd treated her like she hadn't existed but it hadn't taken long for them to fix it.

maybe that was just him, his mom had always said he'd been too forgiven, too open with his emotions, something he wasn't sure he liked the sound of but he had to admit he wasn't one to hold a grudge, and he never really went halfway with anything. when he was your friend he was your friend for life, once you'd finally done enough to fuck him over, then he could hold a grudge. he wasn't as nice and forgiving as briony, but she'd certainly rubbed off on him over the years, and it had been a good thing, he had a tendency to snap easily in the past. to lose her temper much too quickly over things that didn't really matter.

he felt the irritability growing in him as he watched the guy put his hands all over stevie, there was a little jealousy mixed in it, but there was mostly the guys attitude just rubbing braiden the wrong way, trying to act like if he stepped to brady that he'd actually have a chance. braiden had a good fifty pounds on him not to mention at least a foot more on his frame. these were the guys that got on his nerves the most, the ones that he'd normally let his temper get the best of him with even though they were probably the worse ones he could lose his shit on, a going toe to toe with a guy his size would've been safer, or maybe even somewhere built a little better then the douche or was dry humping stevie. he turned his sapphire eyes to stevie, "i'm just trying to help you here, you look like an idiot and you'll thank me in the morning." he snapped back to her insult, should he have expected anything less then her calling him a tool? one thing they both were was stubborn, stubborn and independent, her self-reliance had come from her inability to trust anyone but herself and braiden's just from a natural streak of it in his personality, something he'd gotten from his father. "i'm not being an asshole, either. if anyone is being an ass, it's you..." though he wasn't sure why he was bothering arguing with her, he was getting her off that table whether she wanted to or not and frankly you couldn't reason with someone when they were that drunk and whatever else she was, it was pointless. that and her attention was elsewhere as he'd finally lost his patience with her dance partner and he'd shoved him back, he almost chuckled at the confusion that painted her face as she stared at the now empty spot where the dude had been standing. it was also when his patience with stevie had worn thin, he pulled her easily from the table and down into his arms before he towed her through the now dispersing crowd, no fight and now no half naked idiot on the pool table they were off to find more amusements. he shook his head at her words. his idea of fun had never quite been the same as everyone else, he liked spending time with his family, sure, but le loved his sports too, when he could manage it he spent most of his non-family time playing football or soccer or basketball with his friends. he came to his fair share of these kinds of parties too and he'd nurse a few glasses of scotch but maybe only one or two beers, then on occasion he'd smoke pot. he wasn't a serious partier it was a way to pass the time for him, he didn't particularly like the taste of alcohol or dislike it, he didn't drink because he could, it was something his father had taught him to drink for the taste, not to get shitfaced. he'd never seen the appeal of getting so fucked up he'd had no idea what he was doing or what he'd done. memories were kind of important, sure, shit had been funny as fuck that night but could you recall what it had been the next day so you could pass it on? no. things had never gotten so bad for him that he wanted to runaway like stevie did, and it was where his naiveté came from, where hs family values and the overabundance of cash came from, bad things hadn't happened to him, shitty, fucked up things hadn't trampled through his house so he couldn't understand how something so bad could happen that could make someone want to do this. it was his... bias, so to speak.

braiden's eyebrows knotted as he heard her groan, he held on to her tighter, trying to make it easier for them to get through the house and he frowned at her next words, "it's gonna be fine, we're almost outside." he told her, it was too hot in the house, too many people and he'd bet a hundred dollars right there the party wasn't that fair away from getting busted up, the cool night air would help snap her out of it a little, sober her up. the response he got might have been adorable, okay, it was for a second he wanted to grin down at her as she pouted and shake his head, it had reminded him of something his little sister would do, or even his older sister if she were as drunk as stevie was right now, "and i want a porshe, but we don't always get what we want, now do we?" he quipped, before he considered going back in there with her, if he stayed with her, he could keep her from having anymore, or taking anything more... but that wasn't solid. it was too easy to slip things past people, especially in a party this packed, plus, he was more then a little concerned, she didn't look good at all and as he rested a hand on her cheek it felt hotter then it maybe should've been. h e wanted to ask how much she'd had or if she'd taken anything as far as pills went, something she didn't normally but he was pretty sure she wasn't going to remember, frowning, he shook his head, "you can't have more, you don't need it, and you're not going back in there..." he didn't know if taking to her back to her place was a good idea, that was a shit storm waiting to happen, maybe they were used to her being gone all night anyways, he could take her back to her place.. his parents... his parents were gone, his whole family had gone out to a dinner that for on the few times he was actually glad he'd skipped out on, "come on," he told her, heading down the front yard, slowing his pace a little to accommodate her drunken walk, he paused a little at her question, "my truck, i'm taking you home," he said, catching her as she stumbled a little heavier this time, "seriously you're about to break an ankle," he said with a sigh before he pulled her easily up into his arms carrying her fireman style, ignoring whatever protest she gave, "do you want a ridiculous hangover and a broken or sprained ankle?" he asked stopping for a second to look down at her before he started walking towards his truck again, he crossed the street quickly to get to his truck and he finally set her down so he could pull his keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door before he helped her up into it, and shut the door, jogging around to the drivers side. he pulled from the curb easily and now he was glad he'd brought his truck even though the house wasn't that far because carrying her the few blocks wouldn't have been hard but not exactly fun. the driveway was empty and all the lights out in his house, and he hit the button on the remote to the garage door opener that he'd clipped to the sun visor and pulled his truck into its spot. he helped her out of the drunk and then pulled her up into his arms, now just because her slight irritation was really amusing. they stopped in the kitchen and he pulled a water bottle from the fridge and handed it to her, "please, drink some of that.." he asked, fixing her with what he hoped was a convincing smile, "are you hungry, you want something to eat or something? or..." he trailed, off, handling drunk people wasn't exactly a gift of his, the most experience he really had was helping his sister hold her hair back and then running to the kitchen for refills on water and whatever food she had wanted. "we have lots of bagels it'll help soak up the shit in your stomach," he said as he moved to set her down on the counter and turned to the fridge opening it up and tossing a glance her way, "we've got too much food, whatever you think of we probably have it, if not in this fridge the one in the garage..." he said, fixing her with a concerned gaze.

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this post here is dedicated to stevie/the lovely evaaaaa and it's complete. pretty much i've got about some things things to say to you. rosa forgot her pants again in this little number here. this template was inspired by the lovely miss kaye! those lyrics up there belong to gergory & the hawk from their heartbreaking song; boats & birds, but right now i'm rocking out to nick jonas "london(foolishly)". oh, i can't forget to say; ew this is crap. :c

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