complexfemalecharacter: (008)
You missed me. Leave a message. Better yet, hang up and text.

[Mail, text messages, phone messages for Maeve]
complexfemalecharacter: (006)
The really shitty thing about her best friend being her boyfriend is that when Maeve is hurt by something her boyfriend did, she doesn't know who the hell to talk to about it. Even going to Robin would be a little weird, if only because Steve is probably there right now, spilling the whole weird fight to her.

Was it even a fight? Maeve has no idea. It felt awful and adult and while not final, by any means, it's still left her with a sour taste in her mouth and a deep fear she's just fucked something up beyond all measure.

In the end, she texts Gideon.

I need to come over.

Before Harrow, she would have just gone, but she and Harrow have some sort of tentative truce going for them now and she doesn't want to risk it by just showing up unannounced. She needs to walk, though, so she leaves her flat as she waits for Gideon to get back to her, and by the time she's told she can come, she's already halfway there.

The rest of the walk doesn't take much time at all and Maeve rings the buzzer to be let in, chewing on her ragged thumbnail as she waits.
complexfemalecharacter: (007)
Nights like this one are actually really nice.

Maeve isn't sure where Rue is, but she and Steve have the flat to themselves, and while they had more than taken advantage of that fact a little earlier in some ways that involved very little clothing, now they're both on the couch in front of the TV. Some movie is on, something unfamiliar to Maeve, but Steve is never offended when she picks up a book and reads instead, which she does now.

Dressed in a comfortably loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt she's commandeered from Steve's collection, Maeve is reclined on the couch, her head on Steve's thigh as she reads.

It's fairly domestic, something Maeve never would have imagined she would like. But then, she'd never been with Steve before Darrow.

Classes are done for the semester, she's picked up a few extra shifts at New Leaf, and she gets to spend more time with him for the rest of the summer until classes start up again in September. This is the life Maeve knows she never would have been able to have in Moordale, stuck with her reputation, her lack of income, the judgment of the teachers around her.

She needed to get out and now she has.
complexfemalecharacter: (019 (brunette))
Maeve isn't much of a zoo person. She isn't much of a celebrate this milestone person either, but tonight she's putting on a warm, oversized black sweatshirt on under the jacket Steve got her for her birthday, she's putting on thick, thigh high grey socks over her usual black tights, she's wearing a scarf and a pair of mittens, and her usual boots, and she's going out.

It's a light display at the zoo, which she's not really sure she understands the point of besides just being sparkly and pretty, which are also two things Maeve usually isn't about. But the pictures online had looked really nice and it had all seemed kind of romantic without being overly so and that's ideal.

Because it's been a year. An entire year. Neither of them have freaked out, neither of them has pushed the other way, neither has fucked this all up somehow, just by being themselves. Neither of them have said those three little words yet either, but Maeve thinks celebrating their anniversary might actually be a good time to do that.

Unless that's a cliche. She hasn't been able to decide yet.

She's planned to meet Steve downstairs, because she's almost certain both Robin and Rue know it's an anniversary, and there is no way in hell Maeve is giving either of them the opportunity to give her shit about it. So she calls out her goodbyes, then heads down the stairs, knowing Steve will be pulling up out front any minute.

[gideon]

May. 22nd, 2021 12:54 pm
complexfemalecharacter: (023 (brunette))
Maeve has no idea what she's walking into.

She had offered, though, and Gideon is one of her closest friends, and so she has her bag slung over her shoulder, shoulders hunched against a bit of rain that pricks at her face as she walks toward Gideon's building. She'd thought her own arrival was bad, but the idea that Gideon is dead keeps rolling over in her mind and she doesn't know what to make of it, doesn't even know what to think.

But Maeve, for all her attempts to keep to herself and for every irritated word she spits out against people as a whole, she's also unwaveringly loyal to the people who earn it, to those who deserve it. And Gideon does.

So freaked out or not, she's headed there now, texting Steve to let him know she'll be out for the evening, she'll talk to him when she gets home again. She keeps up texting with him for awhile, passing the walk, letting him ease her anxiety a bit when he sends her a picture of a cute dog he'd seen at work.

She's pretty lucky with Steve and by the time she reaches Gideon's building, she's a little more relaxed. She doesn't know how long it'll last, though, and as she buzzes Gideon's flat, she brings her hand to her mouth, chewing on her ragged thumbnail.
complexfemalecharacter: (026 (brunette))
Maeve absolutely cannot believe she's doing this.

It's very possible she loves Steve. She knows she likes him very much, obviously enough that she's willing to go camping with him when camping doesn't really seem like something she's going to enjoy that much. In Darrow, though, they can't exactly get away and while Maeve is mostly perfectly fine with that, it seems like Steve wants to have some kind of getaway.

She would never consider herself high maintenance, but there's something about sleeping in a tent she finds a little perilous and she isn't even sure why. And Maeve isn't used to feeling uncertain, so she tries not to let it show as she packs up a bag, trying to work out what she's supposed to bring camping. They might only be going for a night, but they'll be sleeping outside. In a tent.

"Steve?" she calls, looking at her bag. He's in the living room, finishing up their supplies, and she has no idea what the hell she's doing. "What do I bring to sleep in? How cold is it going to be?"
complexfemalecharacter: (006)
It's probably dumb, but Maeve is actually sort of nervous about the party. The last time she went out and got herself a pretty dress and went somewhere like this with a boy, he'd ended up just getting drunk and ignoring her, leaving her feeling like shit, and then her brother's stupid crap had ended up getting her kicked out of school.

She tries telling herself it's different this time. Steve isn't like Jackson, for one, even if she hasn't figured out what the hell she's doing with him yet. And there's no school to get kicked out of, no Sean to fuck things up for her. No Otis to be an idiot at her, no Ola to make her feel even more like garbage.

It's just a party, she's told herself. One that could be a lot of fun if she let it. So she'd gone to her favourite second hand shop and searched until she found the dress, somehow the perfect fit for her and the right price. She has silver shoes and a little silver shawl to go over it, and she's done her hair up, swept back on one side, curled and cascading over her shoulder on the other.

She's even wearing less makeup. Not no makeup, but the black liner isn't quite so heavy and she's taken off some of her jewelry.

All in all, she feels quite pretty. She also can't stop nervously bouncing her knee as she sits on the couch and waits for Steve to arrive.
complexfemalecharacter: (006)
Maeve is pretty sure most people would know she was full of shit if she said she didn't like being in Darrow.

Moordale was fine, but it was Moordale. She had wanted to get out of there for as long as she could remember and having people like Aimee and Otis there for her didn't change that. It was too small and because of that, the minds of most people who lived there were small, too. She didn't think she was better than them -- well, not all of them -- but she knew she was different.

It would have been London eventually, she knows. But instead it's Darrow. And that works, too.

She's going to be starting classes at Barton soon, but for now she's actually loving just hanging out. She may still not know what she's doing with Steve and thinks she might have to actually address that sooner or later, but she likes being with him and she likes living with Rue, she likes the friends she's made.

Normally she's not much of one for going out, but tonight she's convinced Dani they need to. Even if it's just for some drinks and food, she's restless, needing to get out of the house, and she shifts from one foot to the other as she waits on the street outside of Dani's flat for her to come down. She's smoking, which she hasn't done as much of since getting here, but tonight it had felt right.

Things are, Maeve realizes, actually pretty okay.
complexfemalecharacter: (005)
It's almost Christmas and Maeve, for the first time in her life around a holiday, has a boyfriend. Well, not a boyfriend, because she and Steve haven't exactly used those words or even talked about what they're doing and she still occasionally thinks about how much she'd like to shag Rowan, but really, for all intents and purposes, she's got a boyfriend.

That in itself is hard enough to deal with, but now she's realized she'd got to get him a gift or look like a complete asshole. Money isn't a problem, she's still getting her handouts from the city itself, plus she's got her side hustle up and running again, and that is what she's doing right now. Making extra cash to buy Steve a Christmas gift.

Wearing a pair of tight black jeans, her heavy combat boots, and the biggest black cargo jacket she could find, Maeve is leaning against the outside of an Ahab's Coffee, a warm drink in one hand, a stack of papers in the other. She's met three college students so far and they've exchanged essays for cash, and she has two more she's waiting on.

So of course those pricks from the high school wander by. She can't even remember their names now, she'd barely gone to any classes before fucking off and getting her GED instead. Ethan she remembers, because of something Rowan said about his brother dealing drugs. The other two are Ethan's cronies, idiots with close cropped hair and broad chests and she knows exactly the sort of guys they are before they even speak to her.

"Hey, I remember you," Ethan says. "You're that one with the book. Part of the whole sex cult, right?"

"Yeah, you got me," Maeve answers in a bored voice. "You're super hilarious, now move along."

One of the others, the bigger of the two, steps closer to Maeve. He's trying to be intimidating and she doesn't love his proximity, but she only tips her coffee cup back and takes a sip, her eyes on him the whole time. He's not close enough yet, but he will be.

"Sex cult?" he asks and Maeve smiles sarcastically.

"Yeah," Ethan says. "She's a real slut. I bet she'd even fuck you."

"Would you?" the guy asks and Maeve waits. He steps closer. Then closer. He's trying to get a look at her tits, which would be hilarious given her enormous jacket if he wasn't such a complete creep. One more step brings him in range and Maeve lifts her knee as hard as she can, jamming it swiftly into the soft and delicate and stupidly vulnerable balls between his legs.

The idiot drops and Maeve steps over him, moves over slightly, then resumes leaning against the wall and waiting for her clients.
complexfemalecharacter: (004)
Nothing much changes, at least not at first, and she packs up her things with ease. The volunteers at the Home are nice enough that they make sure she gets to her new place and doesn't have to pay for a cab, and when she's dropped off, the old guy who's brought her -- Marcus, she thinks, she hadn't really bothered learning names -- leans out and asks if she needs help up.

"I've got it," she says, grabbing her bag and then the one box of things she's managed to collect. "Thanks."

He nods, then pauses before pulling away. "If you need any help, duck, you know where to find us."

Maeve is a bit taken aback, mostly by the sincere kindness in his voice, and she chews on her ragged thumbnail while murmuring a thanks, then heads for the door of her new building.

It's not amazing. She can't afford amazing, even with a roommate joining her soon, but it's close to Barton and it's clean and the bedroom she'd picked for hers has huge windows that let in as much natural light as she could ever hope for. Maybe it's not that big house she dreamed she'd have one day, but it's a start.

The boxes with her new furniture arrive just as she realizes she doesn't have any food. Or worse, no tea. She's got a kettle, at least, but nothing to put in the water when it boils, though she's distracted from that problem by the sudden arrival of many, many boxes. All of them containing something she's going to have to put together. The sofa, the stand for a TV, whenever they can afford one. Two bookshelves, a kitchen table and a set of chairs. Her bed. The mattress is propped up against the wall in her room and she figures the frame is probably the best place to start.

"Bloody hell," she mutters, standing in the midst of them all, just as the kettle starts to shriek from the kitchen.
complexfemalecharacter: (006)
School is wrapping up for everyone but Maeve.

She watches as people in the care home talk about their exams, compare notes, cram the night before. The only person she really talks to at the home is Rue and she gets the feeling Rue isn't as worried about exams as most of the other kids are, so Maeve isn't even really able to get a sense of what she has to look forward to next year. It's just life going on around her and she's sitting there watching it.

Eventually, she just has to bail. With her phone in the back pocket of her jean shorts, a bit of cash in her pocket, Maeve heads for the record store. She doesn't have anything to play records on, all her music is on her phone now, but soon she'll be out of the home and soon she can get herself a proper turntable and listen to whatever the hell she wants, so she might as well pick up some music now.

It isn't even until she's through the door that she remembers this is where Steve works. She stops short, catching sight of him as he waves at a coworker, and she realizes he's wrapping up a shift. On his way out. Maybe the perfect opportunity for her to hang out with someone who won't be talking constantly about the exams she's not taking.

"Hi," she says when he's near enough. "Just finishing?"
complexfemalecharacter: (002 (brown))
Four days in and it's still all pretty fucked.

Maeve is used to having her own place, somewhere she can go to when she needs to escape the rest of the world, which happens a lot more often than she would admit to out loud. The caravan wasn't much, but it was hers and she'd been able to keep it clean and decorate it the way she wanted. No one else made any noise, she could play whatever music she liked, and maybe her neighbours fought too much, but she'd take Cynthia over a bunch of kids any day.

Right now she's just trying to spend as little time there as possible. They're looking into getting her into school, even though it's close to the end of the year. Maeve wants to get back, she needs to get back, because there's no way in hell she's losing three months and having to spend a whole extra year trying to get her diploma so she can do something more. This should be her last bloody year, she's meant to be graduating, but now time has gotten all fucked up along with dimensions and it's like she's back a year.

But she's not back in school yet and so now, in the middle of the day, she's just out. She's got a shitty and too sweet iced coffee in one hand and she's wearing some clothes one of the workers at the Home had given to her, but the jeans are too big and the shirt is too tight, so she's standing in front of a thrift shop, looking at the offerings through the window.

Tugging at the waist of the jeans, pulling them up higher only for them to slide down and settle on her hips again, Maeve figures it's her best bet. Not like she can afford anything else right now anyway.

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complexfemalecharacter: (Default)
Maeve Wiley

August 2022

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