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Apr. 14th, 2019 03:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
privateinvestigationsRugrat's on the mend. This parenting shit ain't fucking easy. I need a fucking nap.
privateinvestigations
"You'll be forever my baby boy."
Jul. 23rd, 2017 08:16 pmamericanskinWho: Angela Ashwood, Lincoln Cole and Clint Chevalier
What: New family dynamics
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: Sunday
Everything had changed in these last couple of months. There was no way to ever anticipate what the terrible turn life threw at them, but there was no choice to sink or swim. It was swim only, and swim like the fucking wind because there was a new tiny person who needed them all to have their shit together so he could survive. Angela knew she fell the hardest. She experienced things she thought she would have been immune to, and it was the hardest thing she had ever survived. She faced shit in the past, but this was the worst of all. She struggled. She had a terrible experience with Postpartum Depression where she suffered a terrible phobia that she was going to kill her baby if she touched him. Their time in hospital was a marathon. Not just for her new baby boy, but for her also. She had to be medicated and she had to have a lot of intensive therapy to heal. Gone were plans to breastfeed him, so that avenue of bonding had been annihilated. But she got there, little by little. If he could be strong and fight to survive, she could too.
And he did. More and more each day, he began to gain strength. He didn't thrive, because this wasn't a fake superhero movie where someone farted and saved the world from the Apocalypse. It was a real tiny little baby who survived against the odds, and he was her son. He was little, very little. But he didn't have to be big to be strong. She knew his daddy's genes were definitely on their side, and finally, Nate came by the day before and said Zéphyr was given the all-clear to go home. It was terrifying, but at the same time, the first day of the rest of their lives.
They had received so many gifts for him, that it was impossible to know what to dress him in to take him home. Soon, she settled on a gorgeous little blue and lemon ducky outfit from Lorenzo and Lewis, a little hat from Richie, and tiny knitted booties from Granny Cole. She tied the little bows and then scooped him up into her arms while he slept on. It had been a rough night, but that was part and parcel with the health issues he had. He was alive, that was all the mattered.
What: New family dynamics
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: Sunday
Everything had changed in these last couple of months. There was no way to ever anticipate what the terrible turn life threw at them, but there was no choice to sink or swim. It was swim only, and swim like the fucking wind because there was a new tiny person who needed them all to have their shit together so he could survive. Angela knew she fell the hardest. She experienced things she thought she would have been immune to, and it was the hardest thing she had ever survived. She faced shit in the past, but this was the worst of all. She struggled. She had a terrible experience with Postpartum Depression where she suffered a terrible phobia that she was going to kill her baby if she touched him. Their time in hospital was a marathon. Not just for her new baby boy, but for her also. She had to be medicated and she had to have a lot of intensive therapy to heal. Gone were plans to breastfeed him, so that avenue of bonding had been annihilated. But she got there, little by little. If he could be strong and fight to survive, she could too.
And he did. More and more each day, he began to gain strength. He didn't thrive, because this wasn't a fake superhero movie where someone farted and saved the world from the Apocalypse. It was a real tiny little baby who survived against the odds, and he was her son. He was little, very little. But he didn't have to be big to be strong. She knew his daddy's genes were definitely on their side, and finally, Nate came by the day before and said Zéphyr was given the all-clear to go home. It was terrifying, but at the same time, the first day of the rest of their lives.
They had received so many gifts for him, that it was impossible to know what to dress him in to take him home. Soon, she settled on a gorgeous little blue and lemon ducky outfit from Lorenzo and Lewis, a little hat from Richie, and tiny knitted booties from Granny Cole. She tied the little bows and then scooped him up into her arms while he slept on. It had been a rough night, but that was part and parcel with the health issues he had. He was alive, that was all the mattered.
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Jul. 23rd, 2017 03:08 pmamericanskinThis little lovebug is finally off ventilators and mechanical assistance and allowed to go home tomorrow. Can't believe it ♥ #myworld
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May. 4th, 2017 11:31 amimtoofabulousSitting Hols so Renz and Lew can have a night off. Read the same story 5 times over. I could get used to this #familyiseverything
"He's my son..."
Apr. 29th, 2017 10:15 pmprivateinvestigationsWho: Clint Chevalier with Lincoln Cole
What: That moment that changes everything
Where: NICU, Mount Sinai
When: Late Friday night
Clint was glad it was a familiar face who delivered the news. Nathan came to find Clint what seemed like endless hours since he had to watch Angela be rushed off to surgery because she had lost too much blood to be able to wait anymore. The baby was in distress and his heartbeat had been racing. They didn't want to risk it. He was too small, there was too much risk. As it was, no one could guarantee he would survive, but they had to do all they could to save Ange's life too. How the fuck had this all gone so terribly wrong, and no one had any warning of it?
Because it was one of those spontaneous things that could 'just happen'. Clint really fucking struggled to sign those consent papers. It was a consent to try to save the baby's life before Angela's, because he knew that was what she would want. It wasn't what he wanted. He didn't understand the choice between a life that already existed to what that was yet to be. But he signed the fucking papers. The wait had been unbearable. Lincoln never left his side. This was one of those married life things you never wanted to have to fucking face. At one point there, Clint wasn't sure he could get it together to go back inside the hospital. He nearly gave the fuck up, which he hated himself for. He wasn't a fucking quitter, but this had floored him.
And then Nathan was there. Angela was still unstable in Recovery, but they had delivered the baby safely and even if they struggled to get him to respond when he was first born, they intubated him stabilised him.
( Three fucking pounds, even... )
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
What: That moment that changes everything
Where: NICU, Mount Sinai
When: Late Friday night
Clint was glad it was a familiar face who delivered the news. Nathan came to find Clint what seemed like endless hours since he had to watch Angela be rushed off to surgery because she had lost too much blood to be able to wait anymore. The baby was in distress and his heartbeat had been racing. They didn't want to risk it. He was too small, there was too much risk. As it was, no one could guarantee he would survive, but they had to do all they could to save Ange's life too. How the fuck had this all gone so terribly wrong, and no one had any warning of it?
Because it was one of those spontaneous things that could 'just happen'. Clint really fucking struggled to sign those consent papers. It was a consent to try to save the baby's life before Angela's, because he knew that was what she would want. It wasn't what he wanted. He didn't understand the choice between a life that already existed to what that was yet to be. But he signed the fucking papers. The wait had been unbearable. Lincoln never left his side. This was one of those married life things you never wanted to have to fucking face. At one point there, Clint wasn't sure he could get it together to go back inside the hospital. He nearly gave the fuck up, which he hated himself for. He wasn't a fucking quitter, but this had floored him.
And then Nathan was there. Angela was still unstable in Recovery, but they had delivered the baby safely and even if they struggled to get him to respond when he was first born, they intubated him stabilised him.
( Three fucking pounds, even... )
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
"Breathlessly waiting..."
Apr. 29th, 2017 02:10 pmimtoofabulousWho: Lincoln Cole with Clint Chevalier
What: Fear of the unknown
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: After this, simultaneous to this
Lincoln knew. He had known all along. He had seen something different in Clint's eyes right back at that first moment when Angela and Emily broke the news that Angela was pregnant. That was the moment something inside Clint changed, and Lincoln had witnessed it, even if Clint himself hadn't even realised it. Lincoln knew Clint perhaps better than just about everyone else in this world. Just about - Lorenzo would always be the one who knew him best of all. That was exactly how it should be. Lincoln, being a twin himself, would never try to compete with that. Clint was something different to him that he was to Lorenzo. That was the beauty of it all.
( Lincoln observed a lot more than he spoke about... )
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
What: Fear of the unknown
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: After this, simultaneous to this
Lincoln knew. He had known all along. He had seen something different in Clint's eyes right back at that first moment when Angela and Emily broke the news that Angela was pregnant. That was the moment something inside Clint changed, and Lincoln had witnessed it, even if Clint himself hadn't even realised it. Lincoln knew Clint perhaps better than just about everyone else in this world. Just about - Lorenzo would always be the one who knew him best of all. That was exactly how it should be. Lincoln, being a twin himself, would never try to compete with that. Clint was something different to him that he was to Lorenzo. That was the beauty of it all.
( Lincoln observed a lot more than he spoke about... )
NARRATIVE, COMPLETE
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Apr. 3rd, 2017 12:34 amprivateinvestigationsNothing like an erectable cock pendant to be reminded to suck it the fuck up and moping is for cunts.
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Apr. 2nd, 2017 09:14 pmimtoofabulousHappy Non-Birthday, lover. Bet you always wanted an erectable cock pendant. Now come fuck me until my prostate forgets it's a fucking prostate #doinghusbandingright
americanskinWho: Angela Ashwood and Clint Chevalier
What: What's in a name...
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday
When Angela got home from a check-up with her OB/GYN, she thought no one was home. The place was quiet and still, when it could sometimes be a hive of activity with so many people under one roof. With a quick survey, she realised Lincoln was asleep in his and Clint's room, the door open just a little, but the room in darkness with the curtains drawn. She was about to go make a cuppa when she spotted a wooden box on the coffee table that she had seen before, and it was sitting on something that looked like an old photo album.
As curious as she was about what they were, she didn't snoop. Things were changing all around them, and since it had come to light that Clint and Lorenzo were twin brothers, and not cousins like they had been led to believe, Clint had been a lot more subdued than normal. Almost veering into broody levels, and Clint wasn't usually a brooder. He was more likely to go and fuck out his frustrations, or go pick a fight, or get drunk to vent his frustrations. He didn't normally dwell.
( That was why she wasn't surprised to look out through the large glass doors onto their balcony and found Clint sitting out there alone. He was slumped in one of the outdoor chairs, feet up on the balcony rail, having a cigarette... )
LOG, COMPLETE
What: What's in a name...
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday
When Angela got home from a check-up with her OB/GYN, she thought no one was home. The place was quiet and still, when it could sometimes be a hive of activity with so many people under one roof. With a quick survey, she realised Lincoln was asleep in his and Clint's room, the door open just a little, but the room in darkness with the curtains drawn. She was about to go make a cuppa when she spotted a wooden box on the coffee table that she had seen before, and it was sitting on something that looked like an old photo album.
As curious as she was about what they were, she didn't snoop. Things were changing all around them, and since it had come to light that Clint and Lorenzo were twin brothers, and not cousins like they had been led to believe, Clint had been a lot more subdued than normal. Almost veering into broody levels, and Clint wasn't usually a brooder. He was more likely to go and fuck out his frustrations, or go pick a fight, or get drunk to vent his frustrations. He didn't normally dwell.
( That was why she wasn't surprised to look out through the large glass doors onto their balcony and found Clint sitting out there alone. He was slumped in one of the outdoor chairs, feet up on the balcony rail, having a cigarette... )
LOG, COMPLETE
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Mar. 25th, 2017 01:49 amprivateinvestigationsJust watched Linc pull a fucking 'Move, I'm gay' at the grocery store. Fucking hilarious.
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Mar. 22nd, 2017 11:24 pmprivateinvestigationsBeing dragged through a fucking baby store. I'm not fucking drunk enough for this shit.
"It's a family affair."
Mar. 14th, 2017 01:35 pmamericanskinWho: Angela Ashwood, Emily Cole, Lincoln Cole and Clint Chevalier
What: Things are changing
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday night
Lincoln had called ahead to them to let them know they were heading through Jersey and would be home soon. It had been a marathon road trip for them, but it was no surprise Clint wanted - and needed - to drive. It was because he had a lot on his mind. Back all those years when they dated briefly, it wasn't uncommon for him to get up in the middle of the night and go driving. It was just part of who Clint was. No one was surprised. But during the phone call, Lincoln warned them had some heavy, significant and distressing stuff had gone down when they were in New Orleans, and it was some things that should probably handled as a family, especially with Lorenzo still sick.
It was worrying and scary, to say the least. Lincoln was usually Clint's rock. Sort of the sturdy foundation beneath him who would pull a bitch fit in a second if Clint was being a cunt. This was different. Lincoln actually said Clint was quite upset and stressed about what he was dealing with, and there was something really important they needed to discuss... all four of them. She had no idea what it was, but she put the kettle on because Lincoln also said Clint was feeling the best. Again. He had been sick frequently lately. She was starting to panic about that. Fuck, if they were going to tell them Clint was dying, she wouldn't be able to handle it.
It was why, in the kitchen, her hands were shaking so much, she dropped and smashed a coffee mug at her feet. "Fuck!" she wore, narrowly missing stepping on the ceramic shards. Then when it all got too much, she just burst into tears. Fucking hormones.
What: Things are changing
Where: Home, NYC
When: Monday night
Lincoln had called ahead to them to let them know they were heading through Jersey and would be home soon. It had been a marathon road trip for them, but it was no surprise Clint wanted - and needed - to drive. It was because he had a lot on his mind. Back all those years when they dated briefly, it wasn't uncommon for him to get up in the middle of the night and go driving. It was just part of who Clint was. No one was surprised. But during the phone call, Lincoln warned them had some heavy, significant and distressing stuff had gone down when they were in New Orleans, and it was some things that should probably handled as a family, especially with Lorenzo still sick.
It was worrying and scary, to say the least. Lincoln was usually Clint's rock. Sort of the sturdy foundation beneath him who would pull a bitch fit in a second if Clint was being a cunt. This was different. Lincoln actually said Clint was quite upset and stressed about what he was dealing with, and there was something really important they needed to discuss... all four of them. She had no idea what it was, but she put the kettle on because Lincoln also said Clint was feeling the best. Again. He had been sick frequently lately. She was starting to panic about that. Fuck, if they were going to tell them Clint was dying, she wouldn't be able to handle it.
It was why, in the kitchen, her hands were shaking so much, she dropped and smashed a coffee mug at her feet. "Fuck!" she wore, narrowly missing stepping on the ceramic shards. Then when it all got too much, she just burst into tears. Fucking hormones.
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Mar. 13th, 2017 03:42 amimtoofabulousIn Jacksonville. Decided to take the coast road home. Going to stop for Clint to get some desperately needed sleep. It's been a hell of a fucking trip.
imtoofabulousWho: Lincoln Cole and Clint Chevalier
What: Other halves and all that shite
Where: En-route to New York
When: Thursday night
It had been a pretty fucking intense trip to New Orleans, and actually the first time Lincoln had come here with Clint. That in itself was pretty epic, though he wasn't really going to make a big deal out of it. Clint wasn't the sort to make a big deal out of anything. That didn't change the fact it was a really fucking painful time, so there was no way Lincoln was going to let Clint go it alone. Not when he had to go there to identify the body of the mother he never knew was his mother. Clint was stoic about the entire thing. The only thing he had been emotionally shaken on was Lorenzo having the heart attack thing. Even if it wasn't a classic heart attack, shock still caused his heart to arrest and weaken. There was no doubt about the fact that was the hardest part of all. The most fascinating part of it all was that Clint had actually felt a physical discomfort in his chest when it happened. Lincoln knew that threw Clint, but Clint being Clint, he needed to process this whole thing in his own time and in his own way.
That meant that Clint wanted to drive to New Orleans. All twenty-something hours of the way, and Lincoln didn't care. They drove ten hours there, stopped at a motel for the night, then drove the rest of the way. Lincoln thought Clint might go see family while he was there. Even just the woman who was his aunt, but who Clint thought was his mother his whole life. What actually went down was that Clint contacted the relevant New Orleans justice authorities and had her blocked from all involvement in his biological mother's murder. She was no longer allowed to be updated, she was no longer allowed to have a say in what was or wasn't done with the body. Clint made it clear that the body was to stay on ice until Lorenzo was well enough to both plan and attend the funeral.
Angelle tried to call Clint, and it was the first time ever - to the point Lincoln didn't even know he could do it - that he heard Clint speaking Louisiana Creole French. Or arguing in it, rather. He had a fiery and nasty argument with her in the language and from the sounds of it, probably told her something along the lines of going and lighting her cunt on fire, and to never contact him again. Lincoln hated himself for getting turned on by it, but he didn't, at all, hate objectifying it when he and Clint had an extremely passionate angry fuck because of it. Not angry at each other, Clint just needed to blow off steam after it.
What Lincoln did know from all the time he had known Clint, fucked him, dated him, married him, was not to push. Not to even generally engaged in conversation if Clint didn't want it. He could try to open the conversation up, but he knew when Clint didn't want to engaged. It never bothered him. The only time Lincoln ever really arced up at Clint for it was when their relationship was on the line and Clint was being a cunt. Ultimately, Clint needed it then. With his personal life, he had to be able to take it how he needed to.
The only family Clint wanted to visit was his grandmother. She was dead, and before they left Louisiana, he made a detour to Lafeyette to the cemetery she was buried in. Fuck, the only time Lincoln knew of Clint going to a cemetery was when Zoran's father was buried. It was huge, and out of respect, Lincoln remained quiet. Clint didn't say anything while he was there. He put yellow roses on her grave and then sat on her headstone, had a couple of smokes, and was ready to leave. There was one thing Lincoln did notice on the headstone. When it listed her grandsons, it was engraved with 'Lorenzo and Zéphyr'. Fuck, was there so much more to this story than Lincoln knew.
Back outside the cemetery, Clint hadn't gotten into the car. He Sat on the hood and laid back, having another cigarette as he looked up at the stars in the sky. It was a clear night, and they were pristine. Lincoln sat beside him for a moment, and then laid on his back beside him. Clint took the smoke from his lips and held it to Lincoln's mouth for a puff. Lincoln couldn't spend the rest of the twenty hour drive back in silence. He knew this was one of those moments he needed to try to engage his husband in some sort of conversation. If no one else, Clint could talk to him. On the stereo in Clint's car, ironically, House of the Rising Sun just started to play, but it was turned down low. "Isn't Zéphyr your middle name...?"
What: Other halves and all that shite
Where: En-route to New York
When: Thursday night
It had been a pretty fucking intense trip to New Orleans, and actually the first time Lincoln had come here with Clint. That in itself was pretty epic, though he wasn't really going to make a big deal out of it. Clint wasn't the sort to make a big deal out of anything. That didn't change the fact it was a really fucking painful time, so there was no way Lincoln was going to let Clint go it alone. Not when he had to go there to identify the body of the mother he never knew was his mother. Clint was stoic about the entire thing. The only thing he had been emotionally shaken on was Lorenzo having the heart attack thing. Even if it wasn't a classic heart attack, shock still caused his heart to arrest and weaken. There was no doubt about the fact that was the hardest part of all. The most fascinating part of it all was that Clint had actually felt a physical discomfort in his chest when it happened. Lincoln knew that threw Clint, but Clint being Clint, he needed to process this whole thing in his own time and in his own way.
That meant that Clint wanted to drive to New Orleans. All twenty-something hours of the way, and Lincoln didn't care. They drove ten hours there, stopped at a motel for the night, then drove the rest of the way. Lincoln thought Clint might go see family while he was there. Even just the woman who was his aunt, but who Clint thought was his mother his whole life. What actually went down was that Clint contacted the relevant New Orleans justice authorities and had her blocked from all involvement in his biological mother's murder. She was no longer allowed to be updated, she was no longer allowed to have a say in what was or wasn't done with the body. Clint made it clear that the body was to stay on ice until Lorenzo was well enough to both plan and attend the funeral.
Angelle tried to call Clint, and it was the first time ever - to the point Lincoln didn't even know he could do it - that he heard Clint speaking Louisiana Creole French. Or arguing in it, rather. He had a fiery and nasty argument with her in the language and from the sounds of it, probably told her something along the lines of going and lighting her cunt on fire, and to never contact him again. Lincoln hated himself for getting turned on by it, but he didn't, at all, hate objectifying it when he and Clint had an extremely passionate angry fuck because of it. Not angry at each other, Clint just needed to blow off steam after it.
What Lincoln did know from all the time he had known Clint, fucked him, dated him, married him, was not to push. Not to even generally engaged in conversation if Clint didn't want it. He could try to open the conversation up, but he knew when Clint didn't want to engaged. It never bothered him. The only time Lincoln ever really arced up at Clint for it was when their relationship was on the line and Clint was being a cunt. Ultimately, Clint needed it then. With his personal life, he had to be able to take it how he needed to.
The only family Clint wanted to visit was his grandmother. She was dead, and before they left Louisiana, he made a detour to Lafeyette to the cemetery she was buried in. Fuck, the only time Lincoln knew of Clint going to a cemetery was when Zoran's father was buried. It was huge, and out of respect, Lincoln remained quiet. Clint didn't say anything while he was there. He put yellow roses on her grave and then sat on her headstone, had a couple of smokes, and was ready to leave. There was one thing Lincoln did notice on the headstone. When it listed her grandsons, it was engraved with 'Lorenzo and Zéphyr'. Fuck, was there so much more to this story than Lincoln knew.
Back outside the cemetery, Clint hadn't gotten into the car. He Sat on the hood and laid back, having another cigarette as he looked up at the stars in the sky. It was a clear night, and they were pristine. Lincoln sat beside him for a moment, and then laid on his back beside him. Clint took the smoke from his lips and held it to Lincoln's mouth for a puff. Lincoln couldn't spend the rest of the twenty hour drive back in silence. He knew this was one of those moments he needed to try to engage his husband in some sort of conversation. If no one else, Clint could talk to him. On the stereo in Clint's car, ironically, House of the Rising Sun just started to play, but it was turned down low. "Isn't Zéphyr your middle name...?"
nothingelsemattersWho: Lorenzo Chevalier, Lincoln Cole and Clint Chevalier
What: Something's wrong
Where: Lorenzo, Lewis and Holly's place
When: Late night following this
Lorenzo knew when something was wrong with Clint. It was like a Sixth Sense or something. But there was also the fact Clint's voice changed. Lorenzo knew he didn't realise that, but it did. A life time of being with Clint through the ups and downs of life, he stonewalled emotion when someone was slipping out of his control. Especially if he couldn't shove it to the back of his mind and distract himself by fucking out the frustration.
It was late when Clint sent a text to see if Lorenzo was awake. He needed to talk to him about something ASAP. It was so late that Lewis was already home from work, showered, sleeping. Holly had gone to bed hours ago. She was teething again and had been restless, so it was a miracle Lorenzo got her down. But Lorenzo hadn't been able to sleep. He lay there staring at the ceiling, then he lay there watching Lewis sleeping soundly. That was when Clint's text came through. Lorenzo knew it was something important. Clint usually dealt with shit on his own, so in the rare cases like this, it was significant.
Lorenzo soon learned that Clint had called Lincoln and told him to meet him there. When Lincoln arrived, he said Clint had been away on business since the evening before. A case of some sort, had been the description. If Lorenzo had already been feeling uneasy, it rapidly multiplied when Lincoln showed up. Suddenly, there was a sick churny feeling in his gut, and he was asking outright what had happened. Lincoln didn't know, but he was clearly as worried as Lorenzo was.
Lorenzo put the kettle on to make tea, though he partly wondered if booze might be necessary. He had seen on Facebook Clint had been boozing. That was no strange occurrence. Clint having a hangover was. He had a high booze tolerance. Always had. Unless he hit straight Scotch aged for a few decades. That was usually his go-to drink when he wanted to write himself off. "Are you still taking it weak, dude?" he asked Lincoln, not wanting to give him anything he couldn't stomach. Why now, after not being able to sleep, did he suddenly feel so weary?
What: Something's wrong
Where: Lorenzo, Lewis and Holly's place
When: Late night following this
Lorenzo knew when something was wrong with Clint. It was like a Sixth Sense or something. But there was also the fact Clint's voice changed. Lorenzo knew he didn't realise that, but it did. A life time of being with Clint through the ups and downs of life, he stonewalled emotion when someone was slipping out of his control. Especially if he couldn't shove it to the back of his mind and distract himself by fucking out the frustration.
It was late when Clint sent a text to see if Lorenzo was awake. He needed to talk to him about something ASAP. It was so late that Lewis was already home from work, showered, sleeping. Holly had gone to bed hours ago. She was teething again and had been restless, so it was a miracle Lorenzo got her down. But Lorenzo hadn't been able to sleep. He lay there staring at the ceiling, then he lay there watching Lewis sleeping soundly. That was when Clint's text came through. Lorenzo knew it was something important. Clint usually dealt with shit on his own, so in the rare cases like this, it was significant.
Lorenzo soon learned that Clint had called Lincoln and told him to meet him there. When Lincoln arrived, he said Clint had been away on business since the evening before. A case of some sort, had been the description. If Lorenzo had already been feeling uneasy, it rapidly multiplied when Lincoln showed up. Suddenly, there was a sick churny feeling in his gut, and he was asking outright what had happened. Lincoln didn't know, but he was clearly as worried as Lorenzo was.
Lorenzo put the kettle on to make tea, though he partly wondered if booze might be necessary. He had seen on Facebook Clint had been boozing. That was no strange occurrence. Clint having a hangover was. He had a high booze tolerance. Always had. Unless he hit straight Scotch aged for a few decades. That was usually his go-to drink when he wanted to write himself off. "Are you still taking it weak, dude?" he asked Lincoln, not wanting to give him anything he couldn't stomach. Why now, after not being able to sleep, did he suddenly feel so weary?
niceguysfinishlastWho: Kip Pryor, Clint Chevalier and Lincoln Cole
What: Grief and regrets
Where: Clint and Lincoln's place (and whoever else lives there too)
When: After this
Kip had lost all track of time. He didn't know how long he had been asleep. He could barely even remember getting back from the hospital. He thought he had some vague recollection of Clint carrying him, but it was hard to say. Could just be some warped dream he had. He had a lot of those detoxing. Or maybe they were hallucinations. He didn't know what way was fucking up right now. Everything felt wrong. Everything felt useless.
When he woke up, he still felt like he had been hit by a road train. Or maybe a whole convoy of them. He felt like all his bones were broken because he was in pain, and his head was still thumping. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn. He didn't know if it was night or day. All he knew was that he needed to seriously use the bathroom. He sat up woozily, and nearly tripped on the bucket that was sitting there. He had done many hours of heaving into that. It was lighter out in the hall, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against it, feeling his way blindly for the door to the bathroom. He knocked. No one was in there.
He felt like he needed a shower, but he didn't trust his legs to hold him up, so he wasn't going to risk it. He did what he had to do, washed his face, brushed his teeth. Tried to avoid looking at himself in the mirror, but it was impossible. He looked like a zombie. It wasn't even much of an exaggeration. His hands were still shaking. He noticed that when he rubbed his eyes. Instead of going back to bed, he gingerly made his way out to the living area. He knew that the place Lincoln and Clint lived was massive, and they had their own part of it to themselves. Clint had said it was so he didn't have to kill himself going nuts with lesbian interior decoration. Probably a good thing. Kip wouldn't have wanted to inflict himself of anyone who didn't know him.
There, he found Clint and Lincoln making out on the sofa. He turned his head, trying to shield his eyes. In no way was he a fucking prude, but this was guilt about intruding on their private time. Nothing more. He already felt bad enough about that as it was. "Sorry, I just... can I have some of those pills that stop me feeling like I'm gonna barf? And maybe something for my head?"
What: Grief and regrets
Where: Clint and Lincoln's place (and whoever else lives there too)
When: After this
Kip had lost all track of time. He didn't know how long he had been asleep. He could barely even remember getting back from the hospital. He thought he had some vague recollection of Clint carrying him, but it was hard to say. Could just be some warped dream he had. He had a lot of those detoxing. Or maybe they were hallucinations. He didn't know what way was fucking up right now. Everything felt wrong. Everything felt useless.
When he woke up, he still felt like he had been hit by a road train. Or maybe a whole convoy of them. He felt like all his bones were broken because he was in pain, and his head was still thumping. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn. He didn't know if it was night or day. All he knew was that he needed to seriously use the bathroom. He sat up woozily, and nearly tripped on the bucket that was sitting there. He had done many hours of heaving into that. It was lighter out in the hall, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut against it, feeling his way blindly for the door to the bathroom. He knocked. No one was in there.
He felt like he needed a shower, but he didn't trust his legs to hold him up, so he wasn't going to risk it. He did what he had to do, washed his face, brushed his teeth. Tried to avoid looking at himself in the mirror, but it was impossible. He looked like a zombie. It wasn't even much of an exaggeration. His hands were still shaking. He noticed that when he rubbed his eyes. Instead of going back to bed, he gingerly made his way out to the living area. He knew that the place Lincoln and Clint lived was massive, and they had their own part of it to themselves. Clint had said it was so he didn't have to kill himself going nuts with lesbian interior decoration. Probably a good thing. Kip wouldn't have wanted to inflict himself of anyone who didn't know him.
There, he found Clint and Lincoln making out on the sofa. He turned his head, trying to shield his eyes. In no way was he a fucking prude, but this was guilt about intruding on their private time. Nothing more. He already felt bad enough about that as it was. "Sorry, I just... can I have some of those pills that stop me feeling like I'm gonna barf? And maybe something for my head?"
privateinvestigationsGot a proposition for you. You chicks wanna come on a week somewhere sunny with Linc and I for a honeymoon? I know you got a lot on your plate, but could you squeeze an extra week out for some you time before all the treatment shit happens? Our treat.
[ FACEBOOK ]
Sep. 27th, 2016 12:40 pmimtoofabulousThink I'm going to have to demand a real honeymoon. Caribbean cruise, or maybe Bora Bora. I've fucking earned that bitch.
"Just one more night..."
Sep. 23rd, 2016 10:58 pmprivateinvestigationsWho: Angela Ashwood and Clint Chevalier
What: The jizz cup is off the table
Where: The Dorchester, London
When: Undisclosed timeframe
Clint couldn't sleep that night, but it was for no real rhyme or reason beyond the fact he sometimes he lay awake at night and watched Lincoln sleep. He watched him breathing. He didn't tell anyone he did it. His head knew Lincoln was doing better now, but his heart didn't quite fully believe it. Those nights he would lie there, his mind would go back over a lot of the things he had seen and done in his life. Not the happy memories. The hard shit. The shit that left scars. The shit he had only faced by being a hardass cunt. He was the sort to wash his hands of something and move onto the next, but that didn't mean his memories of it died. It was general consensus going back over bad memories was bad for you, but for Clint, it was the complete opposite. He didn't want to forget the bad shit. It reminded him of why he would do absolutely fucking anything to protect his family, at all costs.
Lincoln was was down for the count. He had barely moved. At least, not on his own. A couple of times, Clint had gently nudged his hand under Lincoln's hip and coaxed him to turn in his sleep. If he stayed in the same spot all night, out heavily with the aid of painkillers and sleeping pills, his gut would cramp up on him and he would be in pain the next day. This was just something Clint did now. It part and parcel of the shape of their relationship. All this stuff, he did now without thinking about it. That was what you did for someone when you cared for them. You didn't want medals for it. You didn't talk about it to get praise for it. It was just life as it stood. Life that was fucking precious. Lincoln had only just held onto his by a thread.
( Clint had been lying there softly and slowly stroking the backs of his fingers back and forth over Lincoln's shoulder, listening to the deep breathing of his husband... )
RP LOG, COMPLETE
What: The jizz cup is off the table
Where: The Dorchester, London
When: Undisclosed timeframe
Clint couldn't sleep that night, but it was for no real rhyme or reason beyond the fact he sometimes he lay awake at night and watched Lincoln sleep. He watched him breathing. He didn't tell anyone he did it. His head knew Lincoln was doing better now, but his heart didn't quite fully believe it. Those nights he would lie there, his mind would go back over a lot of the things he had seen and done in his life. Not the happy memories. The hard shit. The shit that left scars. The shit he had only faced by being a hardass cunt. He was the sort to wash his hands of something and move onto the next, but that didn't mean his memories of it died. It was general consensus going back over bad memories was bad for you, but for Clint, it was the complete opposite. He didn't want to forget the bad shit. It reminded him of why he would do absolutely fucking anything to protect his family, at all costs.
Lincoln was was down for the count. He had barely moved. At least, not on his own. A couple of times, Clint had gently nudged his hand under Lincoln's hip and coaxed him to turn in his sleep. If he stayed in the same spot all night, out heavily with the aid of painkillers and sleeping pills, his gut would cramp up on him and he would be in pain the next day. This was just something Clint did now. It part and parcel of the shape of their relationship. All this stuff, he did now without thinking about it. That was what you did for someone when you cared for them. You didn't want medals for it. You didn't talk about it to get praise for it. It was just life as it stood. Life that was fucking precious. Lincoln had only just held onto his by a thread.
( Clint had been lying there softly and slowly stroking the backs of his fingers back and forth over Lincoln's shoulder, listening to the deep breathing of his husband... )
RP LOG, COMPLETE
@![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival||127.7 : Tumblr Quotes
Sep. 23rd, 2016 11:34 amemilywhereverimayfindher"We were born to be real, not perfect."
Angela and Emily had planned to take Ainsley out today to the Harry Potter Studios. It was one of the main perks of the trip for him, and he was psyched to share it with the two of them. But when the day came, and an excited Ainsley was ready to get going, Emily found that she was feeling pretty awful. She refused to let Ange and Ains miss out on a good time together, though, and told them both to go and have a blast together. Her plan was just to stay in and rest for a while, and hopefully feel a bit better later on in the day.
( Ange and Ains had been gone just about an hour when things started to change, though... )
Angela and Emily had planned to take Ainsley out today to the Harry Potter Studios. It was one of the main perks of the trip for him, and he was psyched to share it with the two of them. But when the day came, and an excited Ainsley was ready to get going, Emily found that she was feeling pretty awful. She refused to let Ange and Ains miss out on a good time together, though, and told them both to go and have a blast together. Her plan was just to stay in and rest for a while, and hopefully feel a bit better later on in the day.
( Ange and Ains had been gone just about an hour when things started to change, though... )
[ FACEBOOK ]
Sep. 22nd, 2016 09:14 pmprivateinvestigationsGot woken up with a rim job. Could really fucking get used to this honeymoon shit.
"Never gonna be alone."
Sep. 19th, 2016 10:44 pmprivateinvestigationsWho: Clint Chevalier, Lincoln Cole, Angela Ashwood and Emily Cole
What: Family matters and shit
Where: The Dorchester, London
When: The morning after the morning after the wedding (aka Monday)
The wedding had been amazing, and ultimately, all Lincoln had wanted was to make happy memories to replace the shit ones with. They didn't need the massive white wedding to pull that off. Quite the opposite. This was all they needed, and Clint was glad they did it the way they did. It was spontaneous, and it ended up being a double-wedding with Angela and Emily. He knew Lincoln would look back on this with absolutely no fucking regrets, and he didn't have to be pushed over his physical tolerance level to achieve it. It was fun, and he hadn't seen Lincoln smile or laugh as much as he had with their wedding evening. He could see Lincoln more and more responding to Emily, and some last minute planning had Lincoln giving Emily away, and Ainsley giving Angela away. He had seen that was an incredibly special moment for Lincoln, and one that was born out of needing to replace a shit one with it.
The day after their wedding, Clint and Lincoln just stayed in their room together. Naked, of course. At least, when Lincoln wasn't getting chilled from the aircon and ditched the naked for the luxury bathrobe. They made out, fucked, made out some more, ordered room service, and slept a lot. Clint found himself just automatically dozing off whenever Lincoln did, and it was nice. He had nothing to get up for, and he wasn't really used to that, so it was a nice excuse for him to chill-out too.
It was late morning when he sent Angela and Emily a text. Lincoln was up and slowly working on a breakfast smoothie ordered from room service. He didn't really eat anything solid in the mornings because it seemed to cause inevitable stomach pain. He was back in his trusty bathrobe and chilling out on the sofa when the buzzer to their room went. Clint was shirtless and just in some track pants. He was coming in from a smoke and paused to lean over and give Lincoln a kiss. "You okay, love? You need anything?"
What: Family matters and shit
Where: The Dorchester, London
When: The morning after the morning after the wedding (aka Monday)
The wedding had been amazing, and ultimately, all Lincoln had wanted was to make happy memories to replace the shit ones with. They didn't need the massive white wedding to pull that off. Quite the opposite. This was all they needed, and Clint was glad they did it the way they did. It was spontaneous, and it ended up being a double-wedding with Angela and Emily. He knew Lincoln would look back on this with absolutely no fucking regrets, and he didn't have to be pushed over his physical tolerance level to achieve it. It was fun, and he hadn't seen Lincoln smile or laugh as much as he had with their wedding evening. He could see Lincoln more and more responding to Emily, and some last minute planning had Lincoln giving Emily away, and Ainsley giving Angela away. He had seen that was an incredibly special moment for Lincoln, and one that was born out of needing to replace a shit one with it.
The day after their wedding, Clint and Lincoln just stayed in their room together. Naked, of course. At least, when Lincoln wasn't getting chilled from the aircon and ditched the naked for the luxury bathrobe. They made out, fucked, made out some more, ordered room service, and slept a lot. Clint found himself just automatically dozing off whenever Lincoln did, and it was nice. He had nothing to get up for, and he wasn't really used to that, so it was a nice excuse for him to chill-out too.
It was late morning when he sent Angela and Emily a text. Lincoln was up and slowly working on a breakfast smoothie ordered from room service. He didn't really eat anything solid in the mornings because it seemed to cause inevitable stomach pain. He was back in his trusty bathrobe and chilling out on the sofa when the buzzer to their room went. Clint was shirtless and just in some track pants. He was coming in from a smoke and paused to lean over and give Lincoln a kiss. "You okay, love? You need anything?"
[ TEXT MESSAGE ] To Ange & Em
Sep. 19th, 2016 08:08 pmprivateinvestigationsWhen the whole horny post-wedding fuck fest finishes, Linc and I wanna talk to you about something.
"I think I wanna marry you."
Sep. 18th, 2016 12:52 pmradioactivesadnessWho: Ajay Willis, Emily Cole, Angela Ashwood and Lincoln Cole
What: Wedding dress shopping, and stat!
Where: Near Bond Street and Mayfair, London
When: Saturday
Despite Clint's hilarious messing around, Ajay had finally managed to get him in a wedding outfit that he liked. In pink, funnily enough but Ajay had a quiet word with Lincoln before they set out for the shopping district and he knew Lincoln had chosen grey for his big day. A very expensive and designer grey, so Clint's attireI had to come up to those standards. It hadn't been an easy task, but Clint ultimately relented on the joking around because it was obvious he wanted to get this right for Lincoln.
After that, Ajay left Clint in Lorenzo's capable Best Man hands and took Angela onto one of the best wedding boutiques in London to meet Emily. It had been decided that a double wedding was happening, after Clint and Lincoln dis a lot of soul-searching together. Ajay thought it was beautiful. For some reason, despite all his own flaws and ongoing battle with bulimia, Ajay had this natural gift for fashion and styling. It had now gotten him elevated quickly at FABULOUS, where he was now back to being Gen's PA, along with an Executive Stylist for their exclusive fashion spreads. On top of that, he was Justin's personal stylist for all his public appearances. His head was still spinning, but he loved it all. It helped take his mind off himself, and that meant he was doing a lot better with the eating disorder.
He stood between the two girls who were standing there holding hands. "Okay, Ange, your dress options are over there on the left, and Em, you're are over there on the right. We're using dressing rooms 6 and 8, and neither of you are allowed to come out until I give you the green light that he other can't see. I know none of this is conventional, but you're not allowed to see each other before the wedding. It's the rules. Em, there's some chicken fillets in there for you to help the cleavage. It should make fitting the dress easier for you." He also had a bit of an ace up his sleeve for Em, but he didn't want to say anything on that yet in case it fell through. There was a chance it might, but he hoped not.
What: Wedding dress shopping, and stat!
Where: Near Bond Street and Mayfair, London
When: Saturday
Despite Clint's hilarious messing around, Ajay had finally managed to get him in a wedding outfit that he liked. In pink, funnily enough but Ajay had a quiet word with Lincoln before they set out for the shopping district and he knew Lincoln had chosen grey for his big day. A very expensive and designer grey, so Clint's attireI had to come up to those standards. It hadn't been an easy task, but Clint ultimately relented on the joking around because it was obvious he wanted to get this right for Lincoln.
After that, Ajay left Clint in Lorenzo's capable Best Man hands and took Angela onto one of the best wedding boutiques in London to meet Emily. It had been decided that a double wedding was happening, after Clint and Lincoln dis a lot of soul-searching together. Ajay thought it was beautiful. For some reason, despite all his own flaws and ongoing battle with bulimia, Ajay had this natural gift for fashion and styling. It had now gotten him elevated quickly at FABULOUS, where he was now back to being Gen's PA, along with an Executive Stylist for their exclusive fashion spreads. On top of that, he was Justin's personal stylist for all his public appearances. His head was still spinning, but he loved it all. It helped take his mind off himself, and that meant he was doing a lot better with the eating disorder.
He stood between the two girls who were standing there holding hands. "Okay, Ange, your dress options are over there on the left, and Em, you're are over there on the right. We're using dressing rooms 6 and 8, and neither of you are allowed to come out until I give you the green light that he other can't see. I know none of this is conventional, but you're not allowed to see each other before the wedding. It's the rules. Em, there's some chicken fillets in there for you to help the cleavage. It should make fitting the dress easier for you." He also had a bit of an ace up his sleeve for Em, but he didn't want to say anything on that yet in case it fell through. There was a chance it might, but he hoped not.
privateinvestigationsWho: Clint Chevalier and Lincoln Cole
What: Communicating
Where: The London Eye, London (duh)
When: Friday evening
Clint and Lincoln had spent the day together at Greenwich. They caught one of the boats up the Thames in the morning, and took their time. Clint was making sure that Lincoln was taking it easy the whole time, and not pushing himself. Time alone together to just chill and reconnect was exactly what they needed. Even if there were plans to talk some things through, they didn't quite get to it while they were wandering around Greenwich. Not even as they lay together on the sprawling green grass, arms around each other. It probably looked like they didn't have a care in the world, but outside views could be deceiving.
He knew there would be a time where the vital conversation commenced, but it didn't come until later. Arriving back up the river and disembarking the boat, Lincoln said he wanted to go on the London Eye. He liked the views up there, feeling miles away from the fast-pace of civilisation. They got one of the cubicles alone, and it was on dusk, so the atmosphere was pretty cool. They stood right up at the glass wall of the dome, and Clint found himself watching Lincoln mesmirised by the view.
Soon, he put his hand on Lincoln's cheek and pulled his face close, catching his lips in a heated kiss. Even when it ended, they wrapped their arms around each other in a hug and just held each other. He didn't give a fuck about anything beyond that glass capsule right now. In a way, he could feel that it was therapeutic. He didn't even say anything at first, he just kept Lincoln in that protective hold. And then, "I fucking love you, babe."
What: Communicating
Where: The London Eye, London (duh)
When: Friday evening
Clint and Lincoln had spent the day together at Greenwich. They caught one of the boats up the Thames in the morning, and took their time. Clint was making sure that Lincoln was taking it easy the whole time, and not pushing himself. Time alone together to just chill and reconnect was exactly what they needed. Even if there were plans to talk some things through, they didn't quite get to it while they were wandering around Greenwich. Not even as they lay together on the sprawling green grass, arms around each other. It probably looked like they didn't have a care in the world, but outside views could be deceiving.
He knew there would be a time where the vital conversation commenced, but it didn't come until later. Arriving back up the river and disembarking the boat, Lincoln said he wanted to go on the London Eye. He liked the views up there, feeling miles away from the fast-pace of civilisation. They got one of the cubicles alone, and it was on dusk, so the atmosphere was pretty cool. They stood right up at the glass wall of the dome, and Clint found himself watching Lincoln mesmirised by the view.
Soon, he put his hand on Lincoln's cheek and pulled his face close, catching his lips in a heated kiss. Even when it ended, they wrapped their arms around each other in a hug and just held each other. He didn't give a fuck about anything beyond that glass capsule right now. In a way, he could feel that it was therapeutic. He didn't even say anything at first, he just kept Lincoln in that protective hold. And then, "I fucking love you, babe."
[ FACEBOOK ]
Sep. 17th, 2016 02:48 pmprivateinvestigationsSorry, Billy Boy, you're gonna have to borrow some of Renz's valium - just secured Linc's dream venue, the London Eye, for the wedding, and it's happening Saturday night. Totally gonna get fucked good and hard tonight.
"My brother's keeper..."
Sep. 11th, 2016 09:48 pmemilywhereverimayfindherWho? Lincoln and Emily Cole
What? Picking up the pieces and trying to build again
When? After her talk with Lew
Where? Granny Cole's house
Emily knew that she needed to talk to her brother more than anyone else in the world right now. And after the much needed chat with Lew, she knew that she was in a better place mentally to do so. He'd felt 100% left out of everything lately, and Emily wasn't in any way in the mood to keep him feeling that way. Linc, before anyone else in the world, had been her other half in a very different way to what Ange was. They'd been together since the womb, and she wasn't going to walk away letting him think that she didn't give a shit about him.
She knew he'd gone to visit their granny, and made her way to the familiar house where she'd spent many a summer in London. She was greeted by her Granny with a hug, and led into the parlor, where she had made up tea for herself and Linc. "I think you two have a bit to catch up on," she told Emily knowingly. "You and I can chat afterward, love. First, straighten things out with your brother." As the sassy little woman disappeared down the hallway, Emily turned to Linc with a weak smile. "I can't tell Granny no," she said.
What? Picking up the pieces and trying to build again
When? After her talk with Lew
Where? Granny Cole's house
Emily knew that she needed to talk to her brother more than anyone else in the world right now. And after the much needed chat with Lew, she knew that she was in a better place mentally to do so. He'd felt 100% left out of everything lately, and Emily wasn't in any way in the mood to keep him feeling that way. Linc, before anyone else in the world, had been her other half in a very different way to what Ange was. They'd been together since the womb, and she wasn't going to walk away letting him think that she didn't give a shit about him.
She knew he'd gone to visit their granny, and made her way to the familiar house where she'd spent many a summer in London. She was greeted by her Granny with a hug, and led into the parlor, where she had made up tea for herself and Linc. "I think you two have a bit to catch up on," she told Emily knowingly. "You and I can chat afterward, love. First, straighten things out with your brother." As the sassy little woman disappeared down the hallway, Emily turned to Linc with a weak smile. "I can't tell Granny no," she said.
[ TEXT MESSAGE ]
Sep. 6th, 2016 06:28 pmprivateinvestigationsTO: Lorenzo, Lewis, Angela, Emily, Jude, Reecy, Billy and Ajay:
I know there's a lot of shit going on, but Linc and I are getting married. He wants to do it in London, and he wants his closest family there for it. So, if you can set stuff aside for a few days to come, it'd be awesome. If you can't, then we're gonna still do it anyway.
I know there's a lot of shit going on, but Linc and I are getting married. He wants to do it in London, and he wants his closest family there for it. So, if you can set stuff aside for a few days to come, it'd be awesome. If you can't, then we're gonna still do it anyway.
