selectmute:

     “yeah - yeah! let’s,” as soon as ryan recommends it gavin is on his feet. he has a mission now, operation let himself have something nice for once. if he was so miserable where he was he needed to change that. and since ryan was willing help he’d be a right idiot to turn him down. 

     plus, if ryan was around once he got the camera he had a test subject. while michael or jeremy … or even trevor tended to follow his dumb bets more often he knew ryan would indulge him too. especially after flashing a smile like that. if ryan was in a good mood gavin knew they’d have fun.

     the other wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to shoot off rockets or take a leap of faith in a car. this was the guy that went out of his way to send bikers flying for him. while the other lads would go along with his plans ryan was actually more likely to do it of his own accord with gavin in mind.

ryan snorts in amusement, standing up from where he was sat on the bed as well.

“come on, we’ll take my bike. it’s faster that way.” ryan picks up his jacket from where he had tossed the thing prior and shrugged it on, running a hand through light brown strands of hair.

“i’ll check my phone and see if there’s one nearby. if not, we can just..” a shrug, then a smirk. “borrow one from someone else.” ryan could be mild-mannered if he wanted to be, but this was not one of those times.

ＬＡＢＹＲＩＮＴＨ → the sentence meme

lafemme-rouge:

selectmute:

     maybe … he could? truth be told he was instantly sold, it was more a matter of him deserving such a piece of equipment. but he supposed he needed to work on exiting that mindset. with the whole city beating him up he didn’t need to fend off his own self. maybe he’d cut himself a break and get something nice that wasn’t part of his act. no watch, no shiny shoes, no crisp suit jacket he’d wear once then ditch. something he wanted. 

     “a hot mess!” he declared it with a laugh but then dropped it, he’d planted the seed and if ryan wanted to water it gavin knew full well he would. his roundabout way of a nice deed, mention something in passing to let someone know he’d be on board.

     “is there even a good camera place in los santos?”

an honest to god genuine grin brightens ryan’s face as he watches gavin laugh, his own chuckle escaping him. he knew that gavin would argue with himself about getting the camera, and ryan would damn well get gavin the camera himself if he had to. though, ryan was sure that wasn’t necessary by the look in gavin’s eyes when ryan had brought up the idea.

“should be,” he replies with a shrug. “this place has a store for everything, so you never know.” last he checked, the city had a store for bulletproof vests and weapons of mass destruction. he didn’t doubt there was a camera place somewhere.

part of ryan wants to casually bring up the idea of he and gavin making their own video or something. just to indulge ryan’s love for acting. but, it was a stupid idea in ryan’s mind, so he kept quiet about it.

“we can go out and check today if you want.”

selectmute:

     “i couldn’t ask for something like that,” he turns his face away for a moment. money was no big deal, especially when setting up stupid bets and stunts. but when it came to him he didn’t want to be wasteful. it would be funny if it wasn’t such a glaring sign on him that screamed ‘not good enough’. the thought was nice though. to film the explosions … or to do something less professional looking - filming a getaway with shaky hands, you’d be able to hear them cry out after their recent victory. a nice thought. but just a thought.

     as ryan speaks though it pulls him out of the pit he began to push himself into and he smiles. “well these days it’s all about money yeah? you could buy yourself in.” a joke, well, mostly a joke. “or the fakes musical.” less of a joke.

     jeremy had always been into writing and music behind all the rimmy tim talk. and as long as they weren’t wrecking the place michael would usually budge when they pestered enough. geoff would roll his eyes but he really loved them. and of course jack would be into it, she always loved to indulge her boys. it would be stupid, of course, it was the fakes. but … gavin thought it’d be worth it, seeing ryan’s face light up with that smile spurred something in him.

“gav, you could document some of our greatest hits.” a pause, then a snort. “or our biggest fuck ups. but what’s the difference anyway, right?” he smiles a little more before sighing, shaking his head.

the idea of buying himself into theater made the nine-year-old in him sick. he had always wanted to make it his own way - hard work, talent and all that. he couldn’t imagine just... buying his way to the top.

when gavin brought up the idea of a fakes musical, however, ryan couldn’t help but laugh. it was quite the idea, he would admit.

“god, that would be a mess.”

selectmute:

     as ryan spoke gavin let himself think. before. how long ago was that? so many years. when he’d arrived he’d been so young. barely an adult with nothing to his name but a fistful of cash, a pocket knife, and the clothes on his back. he hadn’t begun his transition yet and the streets weren’t kind to someone like him. he hid behind his body and just bit his tongue everyone called him a girl, spoke of him so delicately. at least until jack and geoff took him in.

     but further than that. throughout childhood, throughout school. who was he? after a moment of silence he opened his mouth, “uh, huh.. i used to like photography. i always wanted to do film, kinda. i liked science class a lot - doing experiments..”

“it shows,” ryan says immediately, thinking to the many heists where gavin would try something completely dangerous and incomprehensibly stupid just to see how it would look. “i bet geoff could get you a camera - a good one, not one of those shitty cheap ones. you can take pictures of the crew or something. rekindle that love and use it for something in the present.”

there’s a pause as ryan thinks of his own past. not even eleven years old, he had begun his long journey through states and cities that passed by in a blur. leaving behind the country girl he was born as,ryan had made himself into a man to be feared. but it wasn’t the man he wanted to be.

“i wanted to go into theater,” he admits after a moments pause, a smile quirking his lips up. “go on broadway and be like all those famous actors you see on the tony’s, y’know?”

                                                         ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ ﹗

ɪɴᴅ | ꜱᴇʟ | ᴘʀɪᴠ ʙʏ ʀʏᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

therapy / talking about trauma / post - trauma starters. feel free to change things as necessary. 

selectmute:

     his gaze had drifted downwards but as he heard ryan shift his head lifted and subconsciously he’d copied the other, turning his body a bit. he pulled his knees up, loosely wrapping his arms around them.

     listening to ryan was so easy he let his chin rest on his knees and eyes stayed glued to the other as he spoke. he supposed he hadn’t considered that for some reason. for a while everyone just had assumed ryan loved acting out like that. but once he fell into the role of golden boy and began falling into people’s beds … he began to understand doing what had to be done.

     the smile was a bit unexpected and gavin perked up a bit at that. the question that followed had him fumbling a bit, who was he? beyond the golden boy what did he enjoy? what did he do?

     “i … don’t know.” brows furrowed together.

another nod of his head, ryan resting his chin on his hand as he studies the man in front of him. he listens to gavin talk, blue eyes fixed on the other in rapt attention. when there’s a brief lull in the conversation, ryan speaks again.

“i’vebeen in your shoes, gavin. trust me on that. you’re letting yourself fall into the persona so much, there’s none of you left.” ryan briefly wonders what gavin would have been like if he wasn’t a criminal - wasn’t one of the fakes. he wonders that about himself sometimes, but the outcome is never what he wants.

“before this life,” ryan continues, “what did you like? think back to before all of this. before the luxury, the glory, the fame.” he leans forward now, eyebrows raising. “who was gavin free before the golden boy. when we figure that out, then you can start working on the present.”

@selectmute . x

     brows draw together, he meets ryan’s eyes easily. two years ago he’d squirm anytime those eyes fell on him but now … the crew was closer than ever despite occasional arguments. the first part seemed a bit harsh but he couldn’t say he didn’t expect something like that.

     the rest was a pretty solid point, but it was almost the opposite of gavin’s problem. for a moment he considered shrinking back and just dropping like he was used to. but something about the air of disinterest helped push him along. “no like, not like that. like the bloody … all the stuff is nice, four years ago i’d kill for pressed suits and watches worth more than a car.”

     “i don’t like the golden boy.” he didn’t like the city. he didn’t like what the city had turned him into.

this makes him pause, blue hues flicking up once more to fix upon the brit. ryan sighs softly and sets the gun aside so he can shift his body to face gavin more fully. body language changes to a more relaxed state as the mercenary nods his head.

“do you think i enjoy the vagabond?” it’s stated simply, honesty shining in clear eyes. “when i was younger, the life i wanted was nothing like the life i’m living. it’s hard to imagine, but i had hopes and dreams too.” after a pause, ryan rubs the back of his neck and furrows his brows.

“this life changes you, gav. it’s changed all of us whether we like it or not.” he looks at the younger once more before smiling slightly - a simple twitch of his lips upwards. “but you’ve gotta remember something; what the world says we have to be, or what the world made us into doesn’t dictate who we really are.”

“so,” he says, head cocking to the side. “who are you, gavin?”

                                                         ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴᴇᴅ ﹗

ɪɴᴅ | ꜱᴇʟ | ᴘʀɪᴠ ʙʏ ʀʏᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

Unlocking a traumatizing memory that’s haunting you like 

bloodshotkid

home home home home.

it echoed in ryan’s head as the older male desperately clung to the younger, tears finally falling after what felt like centuries. a soundless cry ripped from a torn and raw throat - a wheeze at most - and he practically collapsed against ray.

it was as if nothing else truly mattered in the world at that very moment. ray was there, ryan was holding him in his arms. they were together, they were alive. that was what mattered in ryan’s heart.

 ❝ i was so, i was so, so, so… scared ryan. ❞ words, as broken like he felt, were whispered into dirty blonde hair, too-thin arms wrapped securely around the mercenary’s neck.  ❝ i thought i had lost you to him — i —  ❞

he broke into a fresh set of sobs, knees growing weak. he fell to them, bruised and bloodied kneecaps hitting the concrete floor — he practically hung onto his ryan now, face buried in his foul scented shirt.

              ❝ please, please — don’t EVER leave me again.  ❞

head shakes back and forth, the silent promise hanging heavy in the air between them. soft breaths puff against ray’s skin, nostrils flaring as he breathes in the familiar scent of ray his ray.

he couldn’t imagine being apart from ray ever again, the mere thought ripping his heart into pieces once more.