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Realistic or Modern Cities Never Sleep

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Chimney Swift

Chimney Swift

i am confusion
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JOPLIN, WA
Independence Day.

Like everywhere else in this country that so closely bordered on becoming a dystopian hellscape, Joplin celebrated this federally-designated holiday with blind patriotic whimsy and spectacle. Overnight, the old pier had transformed into a vibrant street fair. Every square inch of space on the boardwalk was crammed with booths, games, food stalls... things to buy and sell and gamble on and enjoy. The disadvantaged cityfolk of Joplin were thrilled and relieved for the day away from their backbreaking, soul-sucking jobs, so they reveled in the day with every bit as much joy as nearby wealthier metropolitan areas.

If one were to look a little closer at the festivities, though, it would become increasingly clear that this was in fact still Joplin and not Seattle or Tacoma. Drinks in plastic cups and small bags of various substances were discreetly passed from person to person behind the fixtures of the pier. Children ran amok unsupervised, and small groups of young teenagers lurked by booths looking for a chance to pilfer small prizes for themselves.

The air was heavy with the smells of smoke and saltwater and cotton candy, made all the more intense by the oppressive 80-degree heat and the blistering sunlight that had only just begun to set. By the time the early evening cooled off into dusk, though, it would be perfect conditions for fireworks.

Go join in and have fun, why don't you? Just don't leave your drink unattended, get pickpocketed, or fall off the boardwalk and drown.
July 4th, 2013
 

















mood



so drove



location



the fair



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interactions: n/a
mentions: rat Gao Gao













serenity



”run me my money.”






It was the holidays that always added a little more pep in her step, made her a little more cool-headed when she’d usually be snarling and sneering at whatever had provoked her into doing so. They truly brought out a different side of her but not for reasons someone would think. Ren didn’t care about thanksgiving for the feast or the prospect of family uniting, she was unfamiliar with both of those things. She didn’t care about Christmas because of potential gifts, she never had a tree, never believed in Santa Claus and had ruined the spirit of Christmas for many children by letting them know that he wasn’t real.

No, Ren loved the holidays because of the heads. It was during those times where she’d have the most customers. People would flock to her, wanting to get their braids done, their nails fixed, their dreadlocks styled, and she was all too happy to oblige. The whisper of Independence Day had sent customers to her and she had been ready. Her schedule had been booked until the very morning of the holiday. Her hands had ached but she kept going until the cash was placed in her hands.

With the way she’d scheduled her appointments Ren had time to pay what she needed to pay and get herself ready. The usual banging on her door, words of apologies and pleas for money went unanswered as usual. A cruel smile settled on full lips, everything really did come in full circle huh? Now she was the one with a full belly, without a care in the world.

​

To be totally honest, she hadn’t even planned on going to the fair. Ren had planned on using her time to relax at home. A look at her planner had told her that she’d be doing otherwise though. There was a head who hadn’t shown and though someone else had happily taken their spot, Ren still wanted her deposit money. Did it make her greedy? Probably, but she didn’t give two fucks about that.

It had more to do with the person who had made the appointment honestly. Maybe she would have been more forgiving about it if this hadn’t happened in the past already. With one hand Ren held the blueberry flavored rock candy in her mouth, while the other scrolled through previous messages. The conversation was full of curse words and threats from her once she’d found out just who had dipped on her. Honestly it wasn’t that hard to figure out by now.

“You fried haired, bad dye job having ass…” And thus, the curses began anew. Ren knew that Rat was here, he’d suggested they meet at the fair so that he could give Ren her money. Despite the feeling that it was just an excuse, she had decided to come anyway.
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nine lives

 






Jodie




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Green Day



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"God damn it, you little old man!"
Jodie was laughing too hard to properly scold the large red parrot that was trying to climb her tangled hair.
"You can't come with me today! You're gonna have a little birdie heart attack and I'm gonna have to do little birdie CPR on you..."


Preston squawked, still defiantly hanging upside down by Jodie's hair. "Green beans! Green beans!"

"No more green beans, buddy. You want grapes?"

Preston was satisfied with grapes. He deserved a treat for getting left alone in the apartment all evening, Jodie thought. Parrots were deeply social little animals; caring for one was more like having a toddler with wings and a very sharp beak. Most summer days, she'd put him in his little harness and take him on walks through the city with her. Preston was far more popular around Joplin than she was... in fact, in recent years she'd become mostly known to strangers as the weird parrot lady.

Today, though, Independence Day would be too noisy and chaotic for a fragile creature. Jodie would be going out alone. And hey, tonight she could drink or smoke something, both things she couldn't do in front of the bird.

Jodie had been long in need of a break, to put it lightly. At 24, barely a grown young woman, she'd worked herself to the bone and often felt more like an elderly person dragging their feet towards the grave (since obviously retirement was far and removed from the picture.) Circumstances, namely becoming the sole caretaker of her ailing parents when she was just a teenager, had robbed her of the chance to build her own life. She resented this, yes, but what was she to do? Just murder her old, sick parents and run away to the desert?
...In her darkest moments, she couldn't deny that the thought had crossed her mind of doing just that.



Getting to the waterfront from the north side of downtown was about a twenty minute walk, which Jodie didn't feel like doing in this oppressive heat, so she waited by the street corner for the city bus to come by. The bus was usually late, filled with unruly folks, and often had an odd unpleasant smell, but it was a straightforward way of getting from place to place in Joplin if you weren't fortunate enough to own a car. And frankly, Jodie didn't mind the bus and she thought those who were too snooty for it should just go find somewhere else to stick up their noses.

Finally, a little while later, she stepped off the creaky old bus onto the busy pier, which was now bursting at the seams with all sorts of booths and games and food trucks and rowdy swarms of people. She smiled to herself, fishing through her pockets for her wallet in case she found something fun to blow some hard-earned cash on. At last, something a little more lively than her parent's furniture store. Something interesting to do was bound to be here. All she had to do was go out and find it.






♡coded by uxie♡
 






Oliver




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Todrick Hall



Painting in the Rain










(TW: Physical abuse. Not extreme, but read at your own discretion)


"The seven species alive today are ancient reptiles -- living dinosaurs, if you will -- swimming through our oceans just as they did one hundred million years ago. Sea turtles survived the mass extinction that wiped out the dinosaurs, yet they are not indestructible. Indeed, during the twentieth century we came close to losing the species known as the Kemp's Ridley. These, among the smallest of the sea turtles..."

Oliver was far too absorbed in his worn out library copy of Sea Turtles: A Complete Guide to Their Biology, Behavior, and Conservation to notice that his mother had called his name three times already, and now she was getting angry.

"Oliver." the tall woman hissed again, now scathing. When she still failed to get his attention, she clapped her hands sharply, nearly startling him out of his chair. He yelped, dropping his book to cover his ears as if he expected a cannon shot to follow. He was already trying to stammer out an apology when she cut him off with another clap.
She pointed at his arms. "Do something about this. We have company in half an hour."

Stunned into obedience, he looked down at the mottled red bite marks and bluish grey bruises that littered his paper-white skin. He wasn't sure what his mother wanted him to do about this. She couldn't possibly expect him to just pull out a magic eraser and disappear all the unsightly markings... so he stood still, staring blankly back at her. He was far too afraid to admit he was confused and get yelled at, or make an assumption and then be punished for being wrong.

He didn't have to admit to his lack of understanding, though. She sensed it.

"Oh for fuck's sake, just get a jacket or something. You can't go around looking like that. It's disgusting."

"B-but it's--"

He was cut short. Starting to protest that it was too hot outside had earned him a swift smack across the mouth.
Just hard enough to sting. Just enough physical force to make him too afraid to step out of line.

Across the living room, his two older sisters had stopped talking amongst each other and turned to stare with blank faces as their brother took the hit, waiting to see how he'd react.
Without another word, he ran off to the old walk-in closet that he called his room to obey before things could escalate any further. His book was left abandoned on the kitchen floor.

His sisters returned to their conversation as if nothing had happened. His mother sniffed indignantly, picked up the book from the floor, and walked away with it.


His closet room was claustrophobic and dark; lit only by the dim glow of a single desk lamp that sat on the floor, as there was no desk to put it on. The only furniture was an old stained mattress, and a small shelf nailed into the wall, and there was barely enough space to fit those two items. The belongings that Oliver couldn't fit on the shelf were in stacked piles on the floor. He hastily rummaged through one of these piles for a hoodie to appease his mother. It was well over 80 degrees Fahrenheit in the apartment and just the thought of adding an extra layer made him feel like gagging, but he knew better than to think his mother's demands could be trifled with.

He didn't dare go back out to the living room for his book, no matter how much he wanted to go back to it-- he was far too fearful of irritating his mother again, knowing that he'd already worn down her patience for the day and her next outburst would be even worse. It was likely a better idea, he decided, to wait for an opportunity to sneak out of the apartment and pray she wouldn't notice or care that he was gone. Knowing it was a holiday, that meant that at some point later this evening she'd soon be far too piss-drunk to tell the difference.

As for right now, though, maybe Ashley or Dustin would be willing to stay with him for a little while, or he could hide out in Evelyn's apartment... or perhaps they'd all be busy, what with the holiday and all.

It was worth asking, at least. If not, he'd just have to sneak outside for a little while.

Once he heard his mother walk into the bathroom and shut the door, he gingerly slipped out of the closet, grabbing his shoes from beside the front door and disappearing out into the dusty hallway of the Chalamet Building's fifth floor. Even if his sisters saw him sneak out, they likely wouldn't bother turning him in. They didn't like him, but they were smart enough to know that terrorizing him would just bring even more of their mother's furious rampages down on their own heads.

For now, he was safe. Safe enough to get out of the way of more trouble.






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DOG. DOG. DOG.





If one ignored the tragic waste of fresh flowers tossed into bins, antiseptic potent enough to make eyes ache, and the old crones that shuffled around with a cotton crown and IV pole walking cane, Rat could admit he appreciated some things about hospitals.

Inside prison walls painted sterile, bad moods were acceptable. No interest in talking was understood in the forced intimacy of pity and painful truth. Laid bare in clipboards that split apart seams of a fable life, patients, inmates, were an overflowing bilge of wistful and half-mad. Lost in a white pool, a fruitless landscape where they could sob without shame, murmur phone calls in the hallway, be reduced to no more than paper gowns and raw emotion.

Boredom was its own drowsy madness, crushing poppies into mouth for a scintilla of opium interest. Inventing scoring systems in a notebook, tallying Good Deeds vs Bad Deeds in which one diabolic column heavily outweighed the other. But what Rat liked most of all about hospitals was not the authenticity or doting attention from nurses, but a simple, blissful fact:

No dogs in a hospital.

“Stay still, maggot.”
Licking thumb and forefinger to straighten up a saddened spike, the young boy waited impatiently throughout their sibling’s preening. Afternoon heat hot beneath soles and air spun with cotton sugar, festivities had called both brothers to Joplin’s boardwalk for differing motives. Stood to the side of a parked car while the older fussed with the kid’s hair, growing frustrations were becoming no secret.

“Are you done yet?” Whine in the teenager’s voice was enough to make dogs recoil. “I have to go meet up with my friends.”

“Sh sh shhh!”
A shock of blonde hissed back, swatting away hands that dared intrude his work.
“No blabbing! Creating good things, ya.”
Restless energy dimmed as the car’s wing mirror turned, reflecting the spine of a little gelled faux hawk.

Rat offered exciting fanfare of jazz-hands and a half-hearted,
“ta-da~”


Horrifically vain admiration was left in its wake, agitated teen now all head turns and celebrity smoulders into the glass. Donning a leather jacket three times too large, shrugged over the freckled kid’s shoulders with hands bunched and burrowed into the pockets, Rat couldn’t help but take note his brother looked like a very tiny greaser.

“Aw yeah,” fuelled by whatever sense of newly-found alter-ego, hands smoothed up the spiked slope. “All the chicks are gonna dig it.”

Rat’s eyes squinted a fraction, repressing a wince and unspoken thought.

Oskar, you’re twelve.

“Ya, ya. Sure.”
Agreeing was easiest.
“Go on, lady-killer. Gots things to do, Rat does.”
Snip-snap of pale fingers hurried the boy, encouraging him to go get lost in Joplin’s festivities. Only once melted into crowds like honey stirred to tea did attention find the incessant jolts of his phone.

Streams of profanity lashed in succession. Cusses and threats; a contact not known for saccharine words or spring-water patience, but a steep vertical drop of anger. Almost opaque in its depth, all void and reflection, iron rust and dormant gunpowder. Alas, the florist couldn’t help but light a match and wave it near. Did he have the deposit? Absolutely not. After all, friends get discounts.

Proven unable to carve space in his body for some sense of urgency, Rat chose what was most appropriate in the face of wrathful texts:

Send a game of Pool.

Glutton for punishment, waltz steps were barely touched by gravity or concern. Taking sweet indulgent time down the boardwalk just to nudge Ren an inch closer to match-held flame; he could only relish in the thought of her growing ire until flippant nature was sliced open by scrambled nails against pavement.

Dog.

Pomeranian.

Leash pulled taut at the knot on the railing, the intimidating cloud of toffee–puff fur, all empty stare and evil smile, had disquiet crawling the blonde’s skin. Stopped sharp in his journey, prior glee now sloughed harsh against rocky spires of distress.

Intention was to walk a wide arc around, yet with the animal safely secured, the fluttering of his chest eased to make space for lunacy-fuelled confidence.

“Psst,”
he hissed
“ugly.”
Provocation for sport, a glimmer of sharks teeth and empty threat.
“Woof. Woof, woof!”


Under the impression of play, the Pomeranian began a yapping response. Splitting air with its cacophonous tune, tugging and jumping while the blonde riled it from just out of reach.

“Blah blah blah!”
Rat's own bark returned, hands clamped over ears.
“Nobody’s listening t’ fluffy halfwit!”


A strange stand-off, man arguing with Pomeranian who looked near foaming rabid to get free. He should’ve made like Pangea and broke away, yet couldn’t decline the wicked enjoyment of a taunt.

“Flea-riddled beastie wants to eats moi?”
Crooned the florist, brows scrunched with feigned upset. Spiney fingers pressed to chest in remedy of phantom pains in heart.
“Little lovely Ratthew?—“


The leash once tethered to the railing unspooled and smacked loose to the pavement.

Oh.

Rat’s smile dropped. Felt his mouth fill with ice.

Oh no.

Time suspended, next breath drawn winter-sharp. A gust billowing open lungs before folding like leathered wings.

“... Nice wee doggie,”
whispered Rat, trilled with nervousness.
“You stay– stay right there– ay-“
a paw stepped forward.
“Ay ay! Don’t– do fucking not–!”
A scream ripped upwards as the nightmare lunged, maw open, all teeth and wet tongue, painting an already pallid complexion near translucent as Rat scrambled from the beast.

Better judgement couldn't have gone amiss, fear resurrected in fleeing across asphalt. Blonde terror dashing over booths with the cloud of four-legged excitement at heel. A clown with stilt legs and patriotic stripe pants— tacky, fallen victim to bedlam. Knocking an extended hot-dog to concrete, bouquet of balloons freed and stealing quickly to air, complaints and curses followed the wild wayward path.

Upon spotting the head of sunset, extra radiant in their ideal timing, Rat made a desperate beeline to his saviour to scrabble behind like a roach hidden from flame.

“Hates me, it does!”
Another excited yap from the persistent dog had Rat recoiling, human-shield Ren at the ready. Rotating to keep her between him and the enemy.

“Just sic’ em already! Won’t even tell nobody if you punt the Scrappy-Doo shit-brain!”































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♡coded by uxie♡

 

















mood



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serenity



”run me my money.”






Her phone buzzed, the blueberry rock candy was violently crushed beneath her teeth. She knew that he enjoyed getting a reaction out of her. Dark green eyes would light up with satisfaction at the sight of her losing her cool. Someone always said that it was best to not give those types of people the satisfaction, that you shouldn’t let them know that they’d shaken you. Ren ran a blue tongue over canines, canines that would soon be sharpened into fine points. Shaken was not the word to use when describing her. No, if anything Ren was ticking like a bomb and when she went off, everything around would be affected.

With a deep breath both in and out, the young pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Scenes flashed behind her closed eyes like short films. They were ideas, suggestions of how she’d deal with her Rat problem when she finally got her hands on him. The most satisfying would be tying him to a tree in a dog park and filling his clothes with treats. The thought made her calm down, it even brought a serene smile to her face. With her temper somewhat under control, Ren shifted into hunt mode.

Not many people know how she was talented with finding people, hell she didn’t even know herself honestly but she used it to her full advantage. Her foot hadn’t gotten a single second to lift from the ground before someone was grabbing her and hiding behind her. “Ay, what the fuck?!” It left her scrambled for a moment before yapping caught her attention. Ren looked down at the ball of fur before her and then to the coward behind her. Well at least she hadn’t needed to search far.

Ren turned her attention back to the oversized cotton ball, took a single step forward and growled. The little thing bolted then and there, leaving the duo alone to go wherever he had come from. Her next move was swift, acrylics claw-like as they gripped onto Rat’s shirt. Ren pulled, dragging him until they were between two empty stands. “Where’s my money…?” Was all she uttered before she began to shake him down shamelessly.
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nine lives

 
MOOD: ...

OUTFIT: No Patriotism Here

LOCATION: Pier
basics
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INT:
Evie sunnieside sunnieside
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TL;DR Hm.
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Matt

A plume of smoke blew over a figure sitting on the wall of the entrance to the boardwalk. The escape from its cage of lungs as it billowed into the air. Another deep inhale of the cigarette and then a hold for the count of three, a blow out.

Tired eyes found their way across the boardwalk. Across the sunburnt shoulders and the tri-colored apparel that screamed aggressively their patriotism, giving the sunglass wearing civilians a very cute and chic look not outside one that a lobster had while it was boiling alive.

A spot of black in the somewhat terrifying show of national pride - a vacuum where there was no joy to be found, not even in his nation. Black on black, legs crossed and smoking a cigarette, it appeared to be something straight from a photograph.

A mother with a dyed blonde bob cut and bangs gave him a dirty look and ushered her children away from the strange man as they passed by on the other side of the street. He made direct eye contact and watched her go, with a sharp smile in her direction, poised with as much malice and thinly veiled hatred a smile could hold.

How fucking pathetic. Go cry about it, Karen.

He snuffed the cigarette out and discarded it, putting his hands within his pockets as he fought the urge to immediately light another - not necessarily for the pleasant mellow buzz of the nicotine, but moreso to watch the moms around him pretend like they gave a fuck about their children and not the perfect picturesque scene in front of them. He figured, at least, that most of the people that gave a shit about him smoking were because of image and not out of any actual moral obligation. After all, secondhand smoke only applied when you were right in front of him, thank you.

Funny, maybe he’ll be teaching those little shitheads next school year.

He walked down the pier till it came out over the water, a glance at the drunken revelry beginning to spring up around him led to an opportune moment. Some tailgaters turned away from their stash of beer. And a second later, they were down a single bottle.

He cracked it open on the pier’s guard railing as he walked closer to the edge.

A friend, or at least, something close to that. He didn’t really have many friends, just people that he hated a little bit less. Or people that just put up with his usually foul mood. And she seemed to put up with it for some ungodly reason.

“You want a drink?” He offered the woman he’d walked next to. No hello, nor any kind of formal greeting. Straight to the point, with no particular flourishes. A tired and flat voice, without much emotional variance in the tone - perhaps just a bit pretentious and pompous. An offering of the opened beer he’d already drank from, dripping all over his hand and making his pale skin just a bit clammy. Like a corpse. Exceedingly like a corpse.

“Look like you could use it.” He said, and whether this was a neg or not was up to her interpretation. He couldn’t give a shit. A pause, and Matt gave into the itch that had been crawling up his neck and pulled out another cigarette, sticking it between his teeth before lighting it. “What brings you to brooding at the end of a pier?”
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The tired gears grinded and squeaked from exhaustion as the Ferris wheel continued to turn in a circular motion. Its efforts were drowned out by the sounds of children squealing in delight, the clanging of the bountiful, sinful, gambling games, and the crackling P.A. system that attempted to play the same awful Cupids Shuffle for the third time so far this night despite the chorus of singers and a guitar battling to drown it out. The amber lights and flashing neon signs illuminated the darkening night as the skyline kissed the sun goodbye and welcomed the moon to reign over the people for now. The atmosphere was thick with energy and positive anticipation for what the fair had to behold to spectators.

Light brown fascinated eyes danced among the crowd, embracing, and enveloping each feature that flickered by. Wide grins, faces lighting up, and a sense of uncontainable happiness poured from these people walking by. Teenagers gathered in packs, creating picturesque memories as they shared their healthy meal choices of fairy floss and corn dogs with one another. Two of them, a girl and boy, were standing as close as physically possible that they could’ve merged into one living cell. His fingers entwined around her delicate fingers, her eyes lighting up with glee as she gazed up at him. The boy leant down and pressed his lips against hers, capturing them with a devilish wide grin.

He could feel their hearts racing in his chest. His ears were fading to a hue of cherry tomatoes, heat radiating off them. What he would give to be them in this very moment of time. To swap bodies and to experience the pure essence of requited, young love. To have a group of friends gather around you, championing you in life. But most importantly, to have a split second in life where for once, just once, he felt seen.

“You okay, Josh?”

Huh?

His thundering heart missed a beat, and the white noise began to echo in his ears as he ripped his eyes away from the couple and came face to face with his brother. He was a deer caught in the headlights, and his brother was the fifteen-tonne truck about to knock the life out of him. His cheeks felt like they had been hit by the open palm of a revolving slapping mechanism. He was absolutely convinced that he had been caught in the act. His oldest brother, Simon, had a good eye to catch out any of the Jones sibling’s lies. But this time, Simon wasn’t searching for his little brother to tell the truth. In fact, this time, he had already known the answer before he could even say it.

“Yeah, I’m fine” Joshua responded to his brother faintly, nodding his head in agreeance to his own statement.

The Jones family had gathered at the fair that wonderful day in hopes that they could at least bring one soul to Jehovah. That in the midst of all this sinning that it would a beacon of light for someone, ripping them from the hands of all that is evil in this world. All the children, grandchildren, the sisters-in-law and the head of the Jones family gathered by a portable stand covered with Watchtower pamphlets and propaganda. Nothing brought Andrew and Grace greater joy than to be serving alongside their children, their partners, and their grandchildren. Their hearts multiplied with each passing second that they saw a grin on their faces or witnessed to the public.

Aaron, the eldest son, and Martha, one of the youngest daughters, played a harmonic rhythm upon their acoustic guitars. They, along with the family, sang Jehovah Always By Your Side with such confidence and exaltation. Matthew Jones found an older gentleman who had been searching for his wife and was sharing a pamphlet entitled “Eternal love” with him. Andrew and Grace had bumped into another couple from their Kingdom Hall and were discussing the bake sale they were organising to raise funds for a mission trip. Everyone had their role in the family, whether it was singing, playing an instrument, preaching to those lost, wandering souls, or creating community with the people around them.

And then there was Josh.
Who was just… there.

It was a miracle that Simon even noticed the wallflower and made mentioned to him while wrangling his two eldest boys as they attempted to pull off their ties and dress jackets. So, of course, Joshua had been surprised by the sudden interest of his well-being. Especially as he had been looking over at – No, Joshua thought to himself I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was just looking. I’m allowed to look at other people, right? It’s not wrong to just… you know… look… Right? Glancing down at the pamphlets in his hands, he noticed how unconsciously he had started to twist and curl the edges of the spine. His stomach felt how the papers looked; gripped by the might hands, twisted and moulded. Maybe he just needed to go for a walk and… cool down?

“I’m just… going to go to the bathroom” He exhaled, unaware that he had been holding in his breath for so long as he spoke with his older brother.

A head nod and a thumbs up from Simon gave him airway clearance to start his journey. A half-assed closed smile and returned thumbs up was thrown at his brother before Joshua turned at his heel and began on his embarkment. It was just a trip to the port-a-loo. Nothing too interesting could go down. Right?







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stella




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cabbage



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It had only occurred to Stella what day it was when the whooping and hollering of celebrators on the waterfront reached her apartment, buried several blocks back into the city. It wasn’t surprising that the bleak passageways and alleys would carry and echo the shrill voices of excited patriots as they funnelled down to the fairground, but Stella resented it, still. She was in this apartment for two reasons; one, the dark, dank studio was all the Housing Authority had to offer, and two, it was quiet and out of the way. She was five stories up, had only two neighbouring apartments on her floor, one of which she believed was empty and the other accommodating a profoundly deaf elderly man named Reggie, and fuck if she ever paid rent.

It was sort of funny, the way the authorities washed their hands of someone once they’d had enough of dealing with them for so long. They’d became as apathetic as Stella.

It was a modest place, her apartment. The walls were bare, stripped down to plaster and wood. It could be cold, and sometimes the roof would leak and water would spill in through the cracks in the window… but it was her own. There were blankets and rugs and plants, mostly dead or near enough, and a bulky, towering CD player plucked straight from the 90s. Stella owned a lot of crap; weird, finnicky pieces shrugged off or ignored by any other person. She acquired most of her belongings from second-hand stores and thrift shops, including her clothes. It didn’t bother her. Dwelling on the previous owners – who they were, where they’d been – would do no good. They were hers now. Bought, shoplifted, liberated. One way or another, they’d found their ways into her hands and therefore her claim was final.

Cigarette in one hand, keys in the other, Stella watched through the condensation at the alley below. She took one long drag, contemplating what annoyances she might encounter if she were to mosey on down to the waterfront on a night like this. People were so fucking stupid. Kids, barely middle schoolers, galloped and shoved their way frantically between the buildings, their squeaky-clean sneakers muddying with the dirt and the grime from the neglected concrete. What type of parent lets them gallivant around this part of town like that? She ought to run down behind them, chase them through the streets, grab them by their collars and thrust them against a wall just to teach them a lesson.

Today was not the day for running. She was moping. The world around her was alive, yet she felt sombre and unusually tame.

Stella docked out her cigarette in a tall glass, filled close to the brim with cigarette and blunt dimps, stagnating in a tarry liquid. She took three steps over to her bed, unmade and filled with a pile of crumpled sheets and comforters, picked up a thick cotton jacket, and shrugged it onto her arms. It was oversized, hanging limply around her torso down to near her knees. Thrusting her hands deep into its pockets, she stomped out of her apartment, closing the door with an earth-shaking slam.





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BARGAINING.





Still gripping onto the other, lovely shield of doom; olive met mahogany in a silent greeting, hello, before she chose to ever-so-gracefully eliminate the threat.

Ren let their voice sink, all bite and lemon bitters. Painting the air scarlet with a stepped warning, Scrappy-Doo was wise to hide tail and scamper for safety. With a crinkle of ciphered eyes, glee returned in rivulets. A pat on the shoulder and complimentary,
“brave Renaldo,”
bestowed the straightening swede’s gratitude.

When rose-thorn nails latched to his shirt, however,
"ay, ay!"
— that feeling faltered.

"Careful with the merchandise!”
An empty complaint to being dragged off, all evil mirth and stumbling limbs.
“Bruise like dainty apple, yes I do.”
He was just thankful she hadn’t decided to snare the flesh of his arm with crescent moons and blotted bruises.

Sequestered between booths, Ren wasted no time in hunting for payment. A leonine creature prowling rabid and sharp toothed. He stood idle, walking definition of attention-seeker not minding her hostile scavenging.

“Bit frisky.”
A grin had hooked the corners of his mouth, no secret to deriving enjoyment from invoking further ire.
“Just wants an excuse to feel me muscles, I bethinks. Shame for taking advantage of a scared, tremblin’ Rat at a time like this.”


Where was the money? Not on him. After all, he never said it would be his cash paying the deposit.

“Check my cleavage, ya. Be losin’ things all the time down there.”
Nobody should look as comfortable with poking at bears, stepping willingly into dangerous undercurrents; being a nuisance was a luxury Rat could— would afford. Perchance it would turn sour, he was quick in raising hands for a peace treaty.

“Or, or or or!”
An offer to pacify any hiss and humid storm brewing.
“Once Sunshine is finished savaging their favourite client,"
a pause, pointed stare to silently imply that he was the favourite in mention,
"we can go find this elusive deposit.”


He smiled, a slow roll from sole to heel.

“And slushies.”
Afterthought added.
“To make dear frazzled Rat feel better.”































Weight of the world












♡coded by uxie♡

 



Jane Anaise Müller







mood: happy
outfit: click
location: the waterfront boardwalk
interactions: stella ( dear.szmm dear.szmm )
mentions: n/a
her sculpture: click


growing up without celebrating a single fourth of july reduced every one she’d had in the states to just another fun, petty event to partake in. and never very meaningful anyway. in jane’s eyes, lunar new year in laos still outshined any sort of event her fellow americans had introduced to her. instead she was mostly void of any strong, opinionated feelings towards the festivities. anything new or shiny in the city that averted the mundane normalcy of the townspeople’s everyday had the capacity to brighten her spirits nonetheless. besides, any reason to party was a good one in her eyes.

she’d start her so-called 'late morning' opening every single window in her one-story home. the heat this particular summer was a nuisance and she didn’t really care to pay for air conditioning since joplin was a city by the bay. suffering through the short spurs of heat wasn't a big deal to her and besides, there was always some sort of breeze in the area.

turning up her portable speaker, she danced around her place with half attempts every so often to get a little bit more ready than before–her usual routine on her days off from the annoying retail job she currently worked at. it wasn’t so bad of a job, but the entire vibe of the store front was judge-mental and the clothes were excruciatingly plain and boring. the people who walked into the establishment–a revolving door of karens in their 30’s and 40’s–much worse. jane hated thinking about work for too long. if she pondered on it anymore she’d be convinced to quit and she couldn’t do that. not yet. well, perhaps she could, but the girl knew it was wrong to quit jobs before finding new work. something had to pay the bills and fund her artistic dreams after all. she’d shake the thought of coming in for her shift tomorrow morning as quick as it came.

after putting her favorite high-waisted shorts on and contrasting the burgundy velvet with a cropped black vest, jane paced around looking for her striped leg warmers to further complete the outfit she’d been envisioning in her head. in her pacing, she'd get distracted by the twin houses hurriedly glazed at the pottery barn a few weeks ago that were still sitting by the front door. they seemed to almost stare her down menacingly. jane couldn’t help but think that if her art piece was capable of emotion, it was probably plotting a get-away straight through that wooden door.

sprawled over upon her shoe rack was the leg warmers she was searching for–basically forcing an interaction between jane and her little twin houses. standing before the objects of interest, she sighed. “you just wanna be free don’tcha.” she leaned over into a sitting position onto the white tile, slipping the striped cotton over her shins and fastening them just right. eyes averted back to the sculpture, she held a tight smile. “fine, today you’re officially leaving the birds nest and into the cruel, cruel world…” the smile turned into a toothy grin, thumb brushing against the textured roof of the taller counterpart.

jane returned to finish up her ensemble, now in front of the mirror messing around with her short locks. lately she hadn’t been doing much with it, but today seemed like it should be treated as semi-special. and so, with a small bit of gel she created wispy spikes throughout her hair. with the decoration of clips in x-formation over the right side of her bangs, she was complete. normally she’d put a little more effort into a make-up look but due to the hot weather and the fact her plans that night would more than likely be in the dark, it wasn’t so important to her. using her finger to apply a bit of reddish tint, she placed her lips onto the cold glass to leave a kiss mark and left the bathroom rather pleased with herself.

the girl plopped onto her living room couch right underneath the ceiling fan and whipped out her phone–screen cracked as ever. july 4th, 2013–and half past 8pm. the sun was already nearing it’s way down. her sedan was in the shop downtown for an oil change and to fix it’s busted pads. it was some ragged place called lou’s auto repair where she’d half-heartedly left it, not accounting for the fact that it’d be closed on the fourth of july. curse you, holiday.

before tenzin left on his trip back to tibet she’d always call him for these sorts of things. and he’d always come through for her. she didn’t have him now though and neither did she have her mother either.

jane would have to take a bus over to the waterfront. it wasn’t too harsh of a ride and it was better than a forty minute walk in the hot sun with a considerably hefty ceramic in her arms. she could leave it around the block, but it was only fitting to put the piece somewhere loads of people were sure to be at. she’d sacrifice some slightly sore arms for the occasion. someone was bound to fancy it and take it home–at least she’d hoped that was what happened to her art when she left it on the streets…

scurrying around a few more minutes to close all the house windows up, she’d double check that all of her essentials were stuffed into her distressed backpack before slinging it over her shoulder. huge heart-shaped sunglasses placed over her tiny face in comparison--she would be already out the door and down the street to her nearest bus stop. just in time..

bzz zzt. her phone buzzed violently in her pocket with a text from stella crawley. her friendship with stella had started a few years back in senior year. jane would transfer to marsha j. clark her last semester of high school and the two became good friends during fourth period art class. between stella’s nihilism and jane’s affinity for life, they contrasted a considerable amount. however, maybe that’s what made them such good friends. the two girls seemed to balance each other out.

with a couple sneers, jane texted back and forth with the blonde girl who’d made it clear in her own way that the two should meet up.

as the bus veered over to the nearest stop by the bay-side skate park, jane waved over to the bus driver to announce her descent. she hopped off and readjusted her grip on the ceramic houses enveloped in her arms. “now where shall i drop my sons off today…” her voice trailed as she walked in the direction of the benches.

the street vendors filled the, now, cooling air with wafts of oily meals and treats–hot dogs, hamburgers, rotisserie and more. but the flashes of colored lights and corny music had jane’s attention. her mind wandered as her eyes scanned down the boardwalk for a moment. how ridiculous, but...sort of fun, she thought to herself at the sight of miniature rides and carnival-like attractions lining the boardwalk. not before long, her walk brought her in the midst of her dear friend sitting idly on the wooden bench exactly where she'd said she’d be. between the skate park--and the shitty hot dog salesman.

“stellaaaa,” jane crooned as she waltzed over to her–careful as to avoid dropping the art piece still in her posession, her eyes still covered by her dark-tinted shades, “enjoying yourself?” she teased, knowing these types of deals were not stella’s favorable choice of activity. at least not sober anyway. perhaps tonight would be fun though. jane brought her a particularly green present anyhow and upon their past ventures, a good smoke would do them both good.

code: @s e v e n
 








The only face to always be seen in the Bridgeport Tavern was Kat Zielinski's.

If you've never been there, God's pity on you. You'll find it in the western part of downtown, but don't look for neon or LEDs. A simple, hand-drawn sign illuminated by a single spotlight, and a wooden door with a giant crack down the middle (from the head of one Harvey McGuire in 2008), never properly repaired.

The usual crowd was in tonight. Which is to say, not much of one at all. It's usually lively at this hour, but most people had already gone down to the waterfront to catch the fireworks. Kat had given Pete the night off so he could take his daughter down to the pier, so she called in Jay to take his place bouncing at the door. That just left them and the regulars. She had picked out all the familiar faces. There was Stan Lindsay, who had about eight months to live and knew it; he laughed a lot at the Tavern. There was Freddy Cataldi who had two ex-wives, Julia Thornton who didn't gamble anymore, and Jaime Aguilar who was booted off of Joplin PD's bomb squad. Together, they made an agonized, AA-esque encounter group, with Kat as their psychoanalyst-surrogate-mother in the background.

Surprisingly, though, the Bridgeport was a damn interesting place to be. It's the kind of place you only hear about when you need to. Because if a patron feels like talking about the nature of their problems, they receive the instant, undivided attention of everyone in the room. On the other hand, even those with cryptically little to say will provoke no prying inquiries if they show no desire to spill. But many people do anyways. People come to find solace for any kind of issue, from Kat herself if no one else.

Kat lost as many regulars as she gained. After they've been coming around long enough, they find that they don't really need to drink there any longer. The Bridgeport isn't a center of culture, after all, not a place to stay forever. Except to Kat.

Freddy was filling his role as the resident storyteller and advice dispensary. The others at the bar sat and listened, nodding to themselves. Most of them had grown up together, listening to each other's stories and ignoring their advice. The door bell chimed and Kat's eyes flitted back to the door to make note of the new arrivals.
“Fred, Edgar, good to see you!”
she greeted the two men as they lowered their big, plastic Uncle Sam hats and ordered the day's offerings,

The bell rung again as Kat bustled back to fill two glasses with $3 Victory Pints, and she glanced back to see a new face: a guy in shabby jeans and a grey jacket, looking around warily before scooting to one of the benches near the back. Nia, her one waitress for the night, immediately started making her way in his direction. She'd throw a drink his way soon, and assuming he didn’t slip out as soon as he’d downed his first.

Holidays were usually easy days at the bar, and this was no exception.








the influencer



Kat.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡


 
MOOD: Annoyed

OUTFIT: justin x britney who

LOCATION: Chalamet Building
basics
MENTIONS:
Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
INT:
Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
tags
TL;DR Sed fermentum tortor nulla, vel sodales nibh bibendum eu. Maecenas a lacus a libero blandit commodo. In lobortis aliquam urna, id tempor ex semper at
tl;dr
ashley park
I'm not that nice, I'm mean and I'm evil, don't call me nice

Hunched over, seated on the steps of the stairs, Ashley grumbled to herself. Why? Why couldn't her father have taken care of the baby today? Instead, he'd mumbled some excuse or other and saddled Ashley with baby Tony, now attached to her chest with a baby bjorn. Maybe she could pin him on the Thackery's for the night, but John could find out what she did, and decide tonight was the night where he switched up from wimpy but pitifully charming businessman to angry father. Though she herself had instigated a fair few fights and normally wasn't the type to play pacifist, they had just come off of a particularly nasty argument resulting in an elongated silent treatment, and Ash doubted she had the fortitude to handle another such deathmatch. As she debated the pro's and cons of asking Deirdre to watch after him, a figure that was creeping down the hallways caught her eye.

"Oli?" Ash raised an eyebrow, gesturing for the slightly older boy to sit next to her on the stairway. She hadn't really expected to see him out and about on the 4th, considering how noisy and chaotic things could get on holidays. Nevertheless, she was still happy he was there. Oli was one of the handful of people Ashley actually had something of a decent relationship with, and she had a massive soft spot for him. She glanced over at him, tilting her head questioningly. "What's up? Are you gonna go to the festival or something?"

She sighed, awkwardly rocking back and forth, unsure of what else to say. And when Ash didn't know what to say? Weird shit usually came out of her mouth. "You probably shouldn't go anyway. Know what I heard? I heard that if you spend too much time around American flags, you turn into a gun. I shit you not, this girl I knew had an American flag backpack. Haven't seen her in months, she's probably completed her transformation." Ash let out a dramatic sigh, barely suppressing a chuckle at her own absurd barely-wisecrack.

Come to think of it, Oli being here instead of hiding at home, provided the perfect excuse for her to drop by the Thackery's. She could tell her Dad that his mom had suggested all the teens hang out together on the 4th or whatever. Ash had long suspected her father had a soft spot for the absurdly pale single mother, and her son hanging out with Ash while she passed the baby off to someone else, made her look slightly better than if it had been another boy. The closer Oli and Ash were, the likelier he was to get close to Eileen after all.

So she spoke up once more. "Wanna go to Dustin's?" Admittedly, Ash had already stood up and began taking the stairs to the Thackery apartment before Oli could utter a reply. Try as she might to avoid it, but her friendship with Oli always had a clear cut herarchy of who called the shots and who would just go along for the ride. Even if sometimes Oli didn't realize he was calling the shots. Nevertheless, this time around, and as usual when Oli wasn't panicked or freaked out, Ash came up with the ideas and called the the shots. And she decided they would go to Dustin's.

As they approached the door of the Thackery apartment, Ashley began knocking on the door wildly. She paused briefly, putting her hands over baby Tony's ears to wail at the top of her lungs. "DUSTIN THACKERY OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW, OR I SWEAR I WILL BUST IT DOWN."
code by valen t.
 











Emily Gallagher


The Fighter










Mood:


fed-up at/excited







Location:


At home/Pier







Outfit:










Tags:



Mentions: doedeer doedeer /ation: whoever wants to interact













Emmy woke up nice and early that morning cursing her internal body clock which woke her up due to having early starts all last week in the cafe. She turned a few times trying to get back to sleep but eventually gave up and stretched finally allowing her eyes to open and look around her brightly lit room. At least today looked like it was going to be a nice day and the fact that she wasn't in work also helped her mood.

Getting out of bed, Emmy threw on a jumper and slippers over her pajamas before slowly making her way out of her room. Walking down the hall, she stopped outside Kenzie's room for a second and listened to see if she could hear any movement. She knew Kenzie had started sneaking out again and just wished Kenzie would speak to her rather than go behind her back on these matters. Deciding against knocking incase Kenzie was actually asleep Emmy made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. The sight that greeted her made her annoyed as she rolled her eyes and groaned audibly before rubbing the spot between her eyebrows in stress. "What a way to start the morning" she muttered before moving towards the open back door which was being propped open by Charles' unconscious body. Emily reached down and grabbed both of his arms as she began to drag him into the house.

"Need a hand" The voice behind Emmy made her jump as she let go off Charles arms allowing them to hit the floor with a loud thud. She turned in surprise, a shocked expression on her face which quickly turned to a grin as she set her eyes on her younger brother "Your home" she exclaimed giving him a hug. After the hug, Emmy walked over to the counter and turned on the kettle to make coffee, watching as James pulled in Charles enough so that they could close the door. He thanked her for the coffee and they made their way into the sitting room to catch up. They discussed College, work and just as they began to discuss Kenzie sneaking out and her relationship with Drew a voice took their attention onto the person in question.

"You really need to start leaving him outside" Kenzie's voice came from the kitchen before a squeal came behind them as Kenzie threw herself at James. The three continued to catch up for a few hours that morning.

"So Drew..?" Emmy watched as James questioned Kenzie since they hadn't got to finish the conversation earlier. Kenzie gave the same information she had already gave Emmy earlier that year "Yeah he's nice, it's grand". That seemed to be all the information Kenzie had been willing to share of her love life as on them words Kenzie left to get changed for the festivities at the pier that evening. Emmy didn't understand why Kenzie was no longer as open with her as she used to be and the look on James face showed he felt the same way. She gave James a shrug before also going upstairs to get changed for later. She was excited to have the day off and was going to enjoy it.

******************

Once ready Emmy walked to Kenzie's room and knocked in, finding her sister sitting on the floor finishing her makeup, she was still sitting in her pjamas and Emmy couldn't help but wonder if it was so Emmy wouldn't see what she was wearing. "Right I'm off to the pier, I'll see you later" Emmy gave Kenzie a hug and ruffled her hair laughing at Kenzie's protest before walking back out of the room and down the stairs. She noticed that James had gone and that Charles was no longer lying in the kitchen. With a shrug more so to herself she grabbed her bag and walked out the door towards the pier.

Emmy smiled as she got closer to the pier and the sounds of people began to fill the air and she got closer to the sight of the madness she looked around trying to spot someone she knew.













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Charlie Vodianova







mood: eager, a bit anxious
outfit: click
location: the chalamet building
interactions: ash ( tamarapasek tamarapasek )
oli ( Chimney Swift Chimney Swift )
mentions: drew ( doedeer doedeer ), dustin ( Qwertycakes Qwertycakes )

charlie awoke from slumber late that evening–a nap resulted from spending the entire night binging through wes anderson films on her ipad. she didn’t get through all of them, but fantastic mr. fox, isle of dogs, rushmore and the royal tenenbaums were among the ones she finished. to watch all four, plus the time it took to exit out of every annoying advertisement that popped up on the piracy site her older brother recommended, racked up in hours of staring at her screen. she loved every second of it though, not sure which film was truly her favorite. she’d have to continue watching the others later. how had i not watched them before?

simply because she’d been gifted the slightly janky device as a late birthday gift from her brother. how exactly did the boy obtain the money to pay for it? charlie didn't know nor did she really care. she was thrilled about it either way as they never grew up with cable, or at least the congenial kind. her dad only seemed to pay for the local news channels. anyhow, charlie figured it would be best to catch up on everything she was missing out on now that she had a device to do so.

with a yawn, the sleepy girl sat up with her eyes dazed out of her window at the broken fence that separated the vodianov household from their neighbors adjacent from them. from the small knick in the wood, she squinted at the sight of a group partaking in some sort of get-to-gether. she shrugged it off, managing to pull herself onto the hardwood floor beneath her bed. big blue t-shirt and crew socks on, she walked out into the living room which was desolate as ever. dad was in the dining area reading from one of his books. to her surprise, he was minimally dressed up. khakis and a plaid button-up to contrast his usual ragged long-sleeve and stained jeans. charlie didn’t question the change, instead she circled around the back and into the kitchen for a glass of cranberry juice. the only drink they had besides tap water and dad’s coffee.

it was then she’d notice her brother wasn’t home.

“dad..where’s drew?” charlie inquired softly, pouring the cranberry juice–only half way as she had a tendency to pour way more than she needed. screwing the cap on, she peeked her head into the dining room. typical of her father to remain absent-minded to his whereabouts when deep in reading. or maybe it was just to her in specific. he seemed rather calm today, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. never could anyway. dad was a man that naturally exuded puzzlement from anyone who’d come in contact with him. and his daughter was no exception, even after all these years.

“dad.” she voiced a bit louder this time. the scruffy older man drew his head up blankly, then with a slight shake he met her eyes for a second. even quicker, his eyes would curb back into his reading–this time with a response. “he’s out…somewhere.”--his voice like a low murmur.

this would be a good opportunity to ask her father about his attire.

“why are you dressed like that?” said charlie, slurping out of the glass, “i mean what’s the occasion?”

“ahh..”--intermittenly, as if he was scanning words on pages in between responding, “was for an interview. strange as it’s on holiday, but..” his words trailed off.

“a job interview? for what?”

“not so much…it’s uh.. for a new building they’re constructing–an extension of the mall… they want me to help oversee the project.”

“oh.. that sounds big.” she gulped the rest of the sweet drink in a seeming idleness. in truth, this was big. her father had been working small jobs on and off for the entirety of her life. it was to her surprise he would even be open to taking up such a project. perhaps it was good.

the last couple months charlie had noticed little bits of changes in her fathers behavior. he hadn’t had a meltdown in awhile. and he’d been going to work a lot more than usual. she’d even seen him working on the junky car in the driveway. these alterations were for the better it seemed, although she didn’t entirely understand why they’d occured. maybe she’d ask drew about it when she saw him. whenever that would be. it was hard to catch her brother for more than an hour in the house lately.

her mind made a sudden switch to the latter of her dad’s words. holiday..?
oh shit.. was today july fourth?

with a clink, she placed the glass in the sink and rushed back over to her room. fumbling around in her sheets she found her scratched up blackberry sidekick and checked the date. it really was july fourth.

not that it really mattered in terms of holidays, but charlie was supposed to meet up with her friends in the chalamet building–loose plans, but plans nonetheless. charlie was sort of new to the friend group and she mostly only knew ashley from middle school the year prior. it had become important to keep such friendships close. never having much of those growing up would have charlie particularly enthusiastic about the one friend she did have–even slightly obsessive over being liked though she tried to hide that aspect.

charlie liked ashley a lot though. the girl was brash and bold–outgoing and cleverly snide, sort of opposite from charlie’s mouse-like demeanor. however, it was these attributes her friend held that charlie loved the most. ashley was fun, humorous company. she liked 2000’s movies like charlie did. she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, nor was she timid about being herself. that was cool. admirable really. something charlie learned to pick up as their friendship grew. although charlie felt she was still too clumsy and shy, she could also feel herself gain momentum in her social prospects. what usually felt like mountains to overcome, felt more like mole hills when she was around ash.

the blonde girl quickly threw on some jean shorts and a top she’d stolen from value village thrift in foxglove weeks earlier, as well as a striped jacket to wrap around her waist just incase it got chilly. she always liked to be at least somewhat prepared. she’d walk into the bathroom just to brush her hair a bit and splash some water on her face, quick though as she hated looking into that foggy mirror for too long. no need to be more anxious than she already got for these sorts of things.

balancing on one leg trying to tie her battered converse up, she made it a point to snatch the box of cigarettes left on the toilet tank and a lighter to stuff in her back pocket–just in case she’d have time to sneak away for a smoke.

per usual, her descent from the creaky door and over the front steps was met without a bat of an eye from her father. hmph dad’s changed a bit, but not at all if you think about it..

walking in a fast pace, she rushed down the street and around the corner towards the ominous building. upon entering the building she’d hear a bit of commotion coming from just another couple stairs above, to which she’d follow the sound–creaking coming from the ugly carpeted stairs that lined her walk.

just down the hall she’d see two figures, both of whom she recognized. it was quite a sight to see–ashley with her hands over oli’s ears as she shouted at the door before them. it would crack a smile out of charlie, alleviating any lingering anxiety that came from the rush over. “ashley!” she hollered, walking over to the two. her vision moved to the plaque number on the door her friend was knocking on. the thackery’s…

although charlie had become sort of acquainted with oli over the time spent around the chalamet building, she hadn’t really come to know dustin very well at all. she’d heard a lot about him from ashley, but they’d never formally met before. this would give charlie a bit more anxiety than she’d anticipated, but a new friend couldn’t be so bad would it?

“hi guys,” she said softly with a slight bop in her head, as the two acknowledged her presence. “is he not home?” she asked, returning her eyes to the door.


code: @s e v e n
 






Oliver




filler



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filler



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Todrick Hall



Painting in the Rain












"Oli?"

Ashley’s voice immediately caught Oliver’s attention. In the time they’d been living in the same decrepit building, they’d grown to be pretty good friends. She was about half a year younger than him and a grade behind him in school, though the fact that she was both taller and infinitely more vivacious didn’t make that easy to guess. She showed him a level of patience that few others would afford him, and in return he offered her his vast knowledge of turtles… and occasionally his skills in physical defense and knifemanship.

“Oh. I… hi Ashley…”

He noticed that Ashley wasn’t alone. Oliver’s face fell into a nervous frown and he stepped back when he saw Ashley was carrying her baby brother with her as well.

“...And hello, Tony.”

Oliver addressed the baby with a cold, curt formality, as though he expected the infant to somehow be otherwise offended.

Oliver did not like babies– moreover, babies made him viscerally uncomfortable. They were both horribly fragile and terrifyingly unpredictable: at any moment a baby could scream or bite or produce a nauseating smell or simply die. They were all soft bones and undeveloped organs… gelatinous little goblins.

Ashley beckoned Oliver to join her on the stairs, and he did, but it was clear his mind was now elsewhere. While she talked, he stared off into the middle distance, eyes a little foggy and unfocused as he seemed more transfixed with twirling a lock of his dark hair around his fingers than anything that was actually going on around him.

He was, of course, thinking about turtles again, by way of his misgivings about babies. Baby turtles, mused Oliver, were nothing like baby humans. A baby turtle is born strong and fully independent, ready to begin life on its own without ever even meeting either of its parents. Humans, clearly inferior to turtles, take nearly two decades to mature and are born completely and utterly helpless. Oliver wondered how on earth humans even evolved to have such frighteningly pathetic babies when better animals like turtles have been producing independent young for hundreds of millions of years.

As he remained stuck on this mental rant about the inherent supremacy of Triassic reptiles, he hadn’t realized that he was muttering a few of his thoughts out loud in mostly inaudible whispers, still tugging at his hair and rocking slightly back and forth on the steps. If one wasn’t familiar with Oliver and his tendency to get a bit lost in his own head, it would’ve been easy to assume he was plotting a murder.

In the meantime, he still couldn’t help but resent the futility of human infants. There were worse things in the world than babies though, he supposed, trying to brush off the discomfort and move on. Like crabs. And lobsters. And spiders. And centipedes, and cockroaches, and krill, and shrimp, and his family, and…

Oliver was admittedly a little too absorbed in his own thoughts to have paid attention to anything that Ashley had said before she stood up from the steps. Shaken out of his thoughts by the sudden realization that she was no longer beside him, he jolted upright and looked over his shoulder to find her waiting for him to follow after. Sheepishly, Oliver hurried up the stairs behind her to the Thackery’s apartment. Without missing a beat, Ashley started hollering and banging on the door.

"DUSTIN THACKERY OPEN THE DOOR RIGHT NOW, OR I SWEAR I WILL BUST IT DOWN."

Oliver yelped and stumbled back with his hands over his ears, startled by the noise, and nearly backed into Charlie who had just appeared behind him. He spun around, turning red and trying to apologize.

“Hi guys,” she greeted, getting a shy wave back from the boy, “is he not home?”
She meant Dustin, who Ashley was still loudly trying to summon to the door. Oliver stayed silent for a moment, collecting himself, nervously fidgeting with his jacket sleeves. He was fearful that at any moment Ashley’s cacophony would disturb the baby, and then there would be two people screaming… something Oliver wasn’t sure he could handle. “
“He's home,”
He said after a long pause, as though he were somewhat uncertain.
“H-he's just... he's just not, I... well, he'll b-be here.”








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code by valen t.
jimmy tran

Mentions: Chimney Swift Chimney Swift Alex doedeer doedeer Drew weldherwings weldherwings Teo
Interactions: nobody :c
Outfit: peep the fit
Mood: FUCKIN PUMPED.​

Today was the day.

THE DAY.

Yes, it was also the day America was founded by some old, crusty, white men (with the exception of Alexander Hamilton. Jimmy was oddly obsessed with him for one year.)

But! This was the day where Jimmy got to collab with his best buddies, Alex, Drew, and baby Teo. The future sensational YouTuber decided to give all of his partners in crime cool nicknames. Honestly, he liked to give everyone cool nicknames. It’s kind of trendy…. Or whatevah.

Alex was given the nickname of Captain Hook™ because of his super, freaking, badass-looking hook. Like goddamn, that’s hot. Jimmy wondered why girls or guys aren’t swarming to get a slice of that hook cake.

Then there was Drew, the Greaser. Yeah, Jimmy paid attention to English class and actually read the book… Outlander? The Outlaws? Well, the book with Greasers and this one kid dies..? Oh wait, it’s The Outsiders. Jimmy decided to call him a Greaser because, well, he looks freaking BADASS.

And then there was baby Teo. Jimmy’s Asian connection. Honestly, Jimmy wasn’t sure why he calls him a baby when this man was much older than him. Maybe it’s because Teo has a cute, lil baby face.

Well, it’s whatever! Jimmy had them all sign a liability contract in case they have any minor major injuries. So, he wouldn’t get sued if something serious happened. Jimmy was 69% sure nothing scary or too dangerous would happen.

As he was about to head out to this private beach with a bag full of bottle rockets and a barbecue lighter, he was stopped by his gorgeous, gorgeous mom. Thu zipped up her knee-high boots before giving her cute son a big pinch on the cheek. After giving him a pinch on the cheek, she started smothering him with red lipstick-stained kisses while screaming, “Stay safe, Hung! Be careful out there! There’s a bunch of drunk people tonight! I would know because I would have been one of them if I wasn’t working!”

Jimmy groaned and hurriedly tried to rub the lipstick off of his face, “Mẹ! I’ll be fine! You stay safe and away from those creepy old men. I mean if they do try to hit on you, give them my socials so they could follow me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Thu rolled her eyes and gave her son a huge smack on the back before heading out to the stripper club she worked at. Jimmy couldn’t understand why she continued to work odd hours when he could just cover for the two of them with his drug dealing. However, Thu was adamant about keeping her job. It was the first job that she ever had where she actually enjoyed what she was doing. Also, Thu remarked that she might find a hot sugar daddy that would settle for her feet pics.

And so, FINALLY, Jimmy headed off to the meeting spot. He told his cool boy band to meet him at this spot before the fireworks started.

God, he was so excited. He was absolutely about to piss his pants.

Which he wouldn’t.

He went to the bathroom right before.

With his camera equipment all safely stuffed in his bag along with some liquor, he walked through the pier to get to the spot. Jimmy passed through some screeching drunkards and some people smoking a blunt or two. The pier was packed today to celebrate the birth of America.

“Happy birthday to America.” He mused as he dropped all of his stuff onto the sand.

Man, he is so excited to celebrate the birth of a viral Youtube video.
 
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teo choi



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If the state of his bedroom was a metaphor for his life, Teo Choi’s life was a mess.

Half worn clothes cluttered the floors surrounding his laundry basket, having fallen victim to gravity as he had so carelessly thrown them off his body and into that direction. Plates upon plates upon plates, scattered with sipped glasses of whatever concoction he could get his grubby little raccoon hands were stacked in random and various locations within the bedroom; on the floor, on the desk, on his bed side locker. Even one plate which still had the crumbles of last night’s munchies was placed upon the bed that Teo’s body was skew across. If it was possible to sense mould, you bet your sweet ass your Spidey senses would be through the roof in this room.

While others would enter the room and see nothing but the chaos of one’s life on display with all their personal items, Teo felt at peace with the clutter. Sure, you probably couldn’t see that the room was in fact carpeted thanks to the layers of clothing, dirty cutlery and other miscellaneous items that laid upon the floor. But if you asked Teo where his lighter was, he could tell you that it was in the top drawer of his bed side locker. Or if you asked him where his wallet was, he could confidentially say it was in the backpack that was underneath the pile of clothes in the corner of the room. Sure, it was chaos. But it was his chaos, and he had grown accustomed to it. I suppose a life without boundaries or the fear that someone will come and bark at you for even breathing incorrectly had left him in an abnormally cluttered routine and household.

While the rest of the world had spent their days being productive, searching for a meaning behind life and probably off trying to solve world hunger, Teo had been asleep for a large majority of it. He had gone out with a couple of friends to a bar last night and then… Well, things were a bit hazy from there. He barely remembered stumbling back into his apartment at five in the morning and ordering pizza at such an ungodly time. With one last hit after eating, he passed out upon his bed without a care in the world. If he could, he would stay in this content place where peace dwelled. Where all of this shit that lived in the world just didn’t exist.

Sleeping was often a task for Teo. Growing up he would find the comfort of slumber in the arms of his mother while his father stomped around the house like an ogre. Once his mother had passed, there was no one there to hold him. The giant ogre continued to stomp around, shrieking at him to get out of his swamp. Sleeping just wasn’t the same, nor was it a peaceful place. That was when decided to take things into his own hands and source medication to calm his body and mind down. No, he never went to a doctor. Instead, he simply opted for whatever medicine his late mother had left behind; opiods.

That was when the addiction began.

Not a night went by where he didn’t need to fall asleep. Gradually, it just got worse, and worse, and he was being gripped by the hands of addiction. Did his father care? Of course not. Did it help Teo to sleep at night? Oh, hell yeah it did. There was nothing bad about getting a good night sleep, was there? They worked fantastically – that is, until they don’t. Teo’s current dream, filled with sunshine and daisies was morphing into a hellish nightmare. The trees began to weep blood and the sun dimmed. In the distance he heard weeping before the roaring sound of his father’s voice calling his name.

Teo shot straight up from his sleep, panting. He felt as if he had been holding his breath as he slept his day away, only to awaken and to gasp for the sweet air he had forbidden his body to indulge. “Fuck…” he gasped under his breath, feeling his face with his hands to ensure yes, he was awake and yes, he was still alive. His chest heaved to and through as his raging heart struggled to provide any source of oxygen for his lungs. It was only a dream, it was only a dream he continued to reassure himself It was only a dream, it was on- oh, look. Pizza.

Without a second of hesitation, Teo picked up the slice of cold meat supreme pizza that he must’ve fallen asleep eating. No thoughts, just hunger – he took a giant bite of the slice before his eyes travelled to the alarm clock that sat illuminated on his bed stand. “Oh, shit” he cursed, pushing himself off the bed and leaping to his feet. He was going to be so late for this bottle rocket thing. Honestly, Teo had no clue what the hell they were doing; but he heard that words “rocket” and “fire” and he decided that yes, these were two things that intrigued him greatly. Shoving the left-over pizza into his mouth, he grabbed hold of his shoes and struggled to maintain any sort of balance as he attempted to place them on as he stood. The clothes he was currently wearing? He gave them a quick sniff; ah, they’ll be fine. It wasn’t like he vomited on them or anything.

In an impressive manner, Teo managed to organise himself within minutes – not before grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and shoving them into his backpack – and was out of the door. He had been given strict instructions on where they were meeting up; didn’t mean that it helped with his poor navigation skills. Honestly, had he been paying more attention, he would’ve easily arrived twenty minutes earlier. Let’s not forget his poor co-ordination, almost eating shit multiple times as he scrambled his way over the rocks and sand. But he somehow managed to make his way through; an absolute miracle, honestly. Just in time to hear Jimmy give a voice of celebration to America.

“Hip hip hooray!” Teo chimed in loudly with a tooth filled grin, his voice echoing, reverberating off the rocks and ocean waves as he held his arms out to balance himself. “Let’s blow some shit up”








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© weldherwings.
 

















mood



so drove



location



the fair



outfit



here


tags



interactions: rat Gao Gao
mentions:













serenity



”run me my money.”





She could only growl in frustration when her shake down proved to be for nothing. Honestly, she really should have figured that he’d do this. Ren gave him another shake, the feeling that it gave her was similar to someone squeezing a stress wall. Rat stood in front of her as calm and talkative as ever. He held no fear of her wrath and that both annoyed and impressed her a little. Ren’s eyes traveled to his chest. Her fingers twitched as she thought of raking her acrylics down his skin as punishment. The idea was quickly dismissed, it would only egg him on she felt.

Ren met his eyes once again, silence stretched for a few moments before she rolled her eyes. “You’re so damn lucky that business has been booming lately. The next time you pull this shit, I’m shaving all of your hair off.” She glared. “And you can get your own damn slushy.” With a huff she left the spot. Ren heard the scandalized gasp of some old woman and she bucked in her direction. The way she’d jumped back made her smile again.

Her eyes scanned the games and rides that decorated the pier. Eventually they landed on a booth with prices displayed at the front of the attraction. It was a ameatur mistake really. She was fast in the way she snatched the stuffed dog. Ren smirked and then turned. “Catch!” She shouted, throwing the toy Doberman at Rat quickly. Her laugh was loud, clearly amused at what she’d done. A slushy stand was soon in sight and Ren rushed over just as someone else had walked up. “Yeah, lemme get a large cola flavored slush.”

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nine lives

 



Drew Vodianov







mood: eager, trying to get fucked up ASAP
outfit: click
location: the gallagher house
interactions: n/a
mentions: kenzie neverbackdown neverbackdown jimmy sunnieside sunnieside
his car of the day: click

drew had been out a couple hours now. before he left the house his father hadn’t been home yet and his younger sister charlie was still fast asleep, but he had things to do. people to serve. even after the drunken night prior to the day, he’d be up by nine in the morning–already hitting the block. prior to serving, he’d skate over to lou’s auto repair, his place of work, to pick up whatever keys were left in the office and take some sad sap’s car out to use as his own. today it was blue pick-up truck. 2003 model ford F-150–not too bad.

the act was easy. working at a shitty auto repair shop and being able to use the cars usually late at night or on holidays when the place was sure to be locked up. he wasn’t proud of it. well… maybe he was a little. ok a lot. it was dope. and he’d abuse his powers often. ‘why the fuck not?’ he’d say. drew was saving up for a car at the moment, but he just wanted to get a nice one and for that–it’d take time. between reupping his supplies and charlie’s late birthday gift. as well as the amount of money spent on fucked up nights by himself or with kenzie, he wasn’t particularly amazing with money. but he got by. he helped pay the bills on time and everything was fine.

and for now, auto theft it was.

fourth of july was well-timed with people hitting him up left and right for every drug he’d had in his posession. just as drew finished a serve by chalamet park, he finally received a text back from kenzie. he’d text her back right away–cigarette in mouth, hand on wheel.

apparently the couple had another fight just last night. about something he didn’t remember. she didn’t seem to either by the way she responded to his text messages. typical anyway. all he remembered was dropping her off and watching the girl stumble back in through her window–not before shooting him a cheeky grin and a wink, her signature. the thought of it now made him shake his head in amusement. they’d always have some earth-shaking fight that ended in a complete make-up. most times he couldn’t tell if he liked it or not, but it didn’t really matter. drew liked her. he’d say he even loved her. and in truth, maybe he didn’t really care if it was toxic or not.

upon permission to pick her up, he made a u-turn at the stop sign and headed toward the gallagher house. parking his truck at the sidewalk in front of their fence, he scanned the place. there was a broken glass bottle and what looked like an empty wallet sprawled open outside the residence. “fuckin drunk.”, drew mumbled over a puff. the only person in their house responsible for something so ridiculous had to be kenzie’s dad. drew shrugged it off, taking another hit of his cigarette before tossing it out the window. he didn’t have too much of a strong opinion over his girlfriend’s father. hell, he’d barely even seen him nor had a coherent conversation with him at all. the dude was a complete drunk and a terrible father. and kenzie hated him. so he kind of hated him too. drew and his own father had their own quarrels growing up as well. though not as much of a blatant loser, drew knew what it was like to hate someone who was supposed to act as the head of the household and failed.

though, nowadays his father seemed to be getting his head in a new place. in secret, drew had convinced him to see a psychiatrist. one of those over-the-phone type deals. he got prescribed some psychotic meds and over the course of a month had already seemed to improve his cognitive. drew barely bat an eye at it though. he wouldn’t even inform his little sister. there was no need to get her hopes up so soon. it was bad enough growing up seeing her scared of him all the time. at fourteen, she had grown to become so anxious and dreary sometimes that it made drew sick. he blamed their father for a lot of it. and mom. but if he thought about that now, he’d be even sicker. to drown these thoughts out, drew turned up the speakers on the truck and tapped his fingers to the beat–trying to advert his thoughts to anything else.

drew absolutely hated to think of anything even remotely near this topic. at that moment he hoped kenzie wasn’t too long ‘cause getting drunk was now at the top of his priority. and he knew there’d be plenty to go around at jimmy’s little luau. what was it we’re supposed to do? the distraction he was anticipating right on time. somethin’ about bottle rockets or some shit…

whatever it was, as soon as drew would be crushing a few shots of alcohol he’d be game for anything his friend had in mind. as soon as jimmy and drew linked up, the party was on. and jimmy always had something crazy for them to partake in. that’s how it always was. and he was excited to get back to it.



code: @s e v e n
 











James Gallagher


Protector










Mood:


happy







Location:


At home/Pier







Outfit:










Tags:


@whoever wants to interact













James had woken early that morning and grinned as he sat up and stretched, he was heading home for the summer now and he could not wait to see his sisters again and to be back home. While he enjoyed college he found the people here were a bit too uptight and full of it here, almost too posh for him and he felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb. His industrial area ways were surely obviously and it just didn't really feel like he belonged here, like somehow he had taken the spot of someone else.

Getting out of bed James pulled on the clothes he laid out last night, having packed all of belongings the night before to take with him this morning. He pulled on his jeans and buckled the belt before moving over and opening the curtains of his dorm looking out at the glorious day from the window. The campus was dead with most people having gone home last night to be home and prepared for the festivities of Independence day. He was excited to go home and see what his town were going to do this year. James pulled on his white top and threw a checkered short sleeve shirt over it before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. "Until next term" he muttered as he closed the door to his room behind him.

The bus home wasn't too bad, it was helpful that he had got the scholarship for a college close enough to Joplin. Close enough that if he wanted James could go home every weekend but with assignments, exams and course material piling up as well as his resolution to actually try the whole school thing, James just barely found the free time to visit.

The neighbourhood was strangely quiet as James pushed the iron gate leading into his garden and let himself in through the front door. The door unsurprisingly was unlocked, he wasn't even sure if they had a key for the front door of this house. They never had to worry around these parts though as the saying goes "They don't piss on their own doorstep" and so there was actually very little robberies around here. It wasn't like anyone in this part had something worth robbing anyway. He was brought from his attention as he heard Emmy's voice in an exasperated tone and quietly walked towards the kitchen, rolling his eyes at the sight in front of him, somethings never changed.

"Need a hand" He watched as Emmy got a fright and jumped around before her arms engulfed him in a hug and he returned the action. As Emmy moved to make coffee, James stepped forward and roughly grabbed a hold of Charles arms and pulled him in to the house just enough so that the door would actually close behind him. "Idiot" James muttered at Charles before turning to accept the coffee that Emmy was handing him "Thank you, this is well needed".

The two made their way into the sitting room and discussed all going on in each others lives the last few weeks. She grilled him on college work and experiences, he quizzed her about her work and general events that had happened and the conversation eventually got onto their baby sister Kenzie. James wasn't really surprised that Kenzie was sneaking out again, she was definitely shaping up to be the wildest of them all. They had always sheltered her from the responsibilities that himself and Emily had to bear and he wondered if that was now coming back to bite them. Upon the mention of a boyfriend, James eyebrow shot up "Drew..isnt he the..." James was cut off by the sound of Kenzie's voice coming from the kitchen boredly telling Emily to start leaving the drunk outside. James smirked to himself at her comment but that didn't last longer as a loud squeal suddenly began charging his direction before Kenzie threw herself at him and he wrapped his arms around her accepting the hug "Yep... home for summer". he grinned before Kenzie got herself up and moved to an empty chair across from them.

After a few coffees, a bit of breakfast and a few hours worth of conversation, James' thought went back to an earlier topic and he turned to face Kenzie with a raised eyebrow. "So Drew...?" he quizzed her and watched as a small untelling smile passed his sisters lips "Yeah he's nice, its grand". Kenzie looked at her phone before suddenly made an abrupt exit to get ready and James watched her leave before turning to Emmy. He was confused by the lack of information from Kenzie as the three used to tell each other everything. Emily merely shrugged at him, showing this had been going on for a while before she also left the room to get changed.

James followed suit and decided to also get on with the day. He brought his bag upstairs and dropped it in his old room before heading back downstairs. Reaching the kitchen he noticed that Charles was now standing by the sink, awake but definitely not sober. As he made his way towards him, he watched as Charles reached into his pocket and took a small unknown pill with a glass of water. Shaking his head, James made his presence known "C'mon out Charles, you don't live here anymore".

"Oh sorry son, how rude of me, here" James watched as his father turned in his spot and offered him a similar pill to what he had just taken. Shaking his head and sighing James made his way over to his father and put a hand on the back of his shoulder to lead him out "Just get out Charles" he sighed before leading him out of the house. Once outside Charles appeared to wander off down to the left mumbling something about his newest winning scam. Whilst the plan was to go left and straight towards the pier, James dreaded catching up with Charles and so he went right, taking the scenic route. He was enjoying being back home.












♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 






Alex




filler



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  • home (filler tab)



































Guster



Satellite










“Alex! Where are you going so fast?”
A familiar heavily-accented voice stopped him in his tracks halfway out the front door.
Alex’s grandmother, a shrewd little Italian woman whose crocheted shawls went perfectly with her dyed purple-over-silver hair, was by all accounts much cooler than Alex himself was or could ever hope to be. He’d been living with her and his grandfather for a couple of years now, and had come to love their eccentricities. From the ceramic ducks and geese on every available surface to the handwoven blankets draped on all the furniture, their house was both simple and full to the brim with life.

“I’m heading out with the boys. We’re making a video.”
He explained, sounding a bit out of breath from preparing so hurriedly. He’d gotten a tweet from his school friend Jimmy inviting him out to do some new crazy ill-advised stunt for online views, and Alex was never one to turn down the offer of a good time.

“You go out with the boys now?” She asked almost sardonically, tilting her bejeweled glasses in disbelief.

“Yeah. I’m like… popular now, didn’t you know?”


“No more Chloe?” His grandmother chuckled and Alex almost started to choke.

“Cleo. And uh… I mean it’s not like that. We’re just making a YouTube video.”


“And you not invite me?”

“Maybe next time, Nonna.”
He gave her a friendly hug, which she accepted warmly, but when they pulled apart, her steely blue eyes stared directly into his with such a vehemence that he almost felt intimidated by the 5’0 elderly woman.
“Stai attento.”

He lovingly waved the caution off.
"Bene, bene. Starò bene.”
This exchange had become a part of their farewell ritual, and Alex always seemed to take it easy and try to soothe the old woman’s troubled nerves. Deep down, though, he knew she had every right to be a bit paranoid about his safety after her own son, Alex’s father, got crushed to bits along with his wife less than a mile from where they stood.

Alex arrived on the late side as usual, with almost all the other overexcited teenage boys already there before him. He ran up to greet them with a round of enthusiastic high-fives (well, perhaps more like high-ones on his end, as of course Alex chose to use the infinitely cooler prosthetic instead of his boring flesh hand.)
“Hey hey hey, what’s UP? Jimmy, my man, star of the show– And dang, Teo, you’re looking good tonight…”
Alex talked a mile a minute, not unlike a squirrel that had somehow gotten its way into a line of cocaine. He was practically bouncing up and down with anticipation.
“We ready to start rolling?”






♡coded by uxie♡
 











Mackenzie Gallagher


The Rebel









Mood:


happy, excited







Location:


At home/Drew's car







Outfit:









Tags:


doedeer doedeer - Drew













Kenzie woke up late enough into the morning , stretching she sat up and looked around the room with a slight confusion before realising that she was in her own bed. She pinched the skin at the bridge of her nose as she tried to remember last night's events with great difficulty. She remembered being out with Drew and then it goes hazy. She got a flashback of herself essentially throwing a tantrum as he forced her into the car to bring her home and grimaced at the idea. Were they even talking now? Were they still together?. Kenzie leaned her head against her headboard and sighed loudly to herself, she was sick of waking up in the mornings wondering if her and Drew were still together or if she had gone too far. Now they always made up after fights before they even left each others company but on nights like last night where Kenzie toed the line of blackout she couldn't remember the night ending let alone if they made up. She knew herself that the fighting was getting worse and that they probably had already passed the line into toxic but she didn't care once Drew was with her in it. She hated the thought of love and the idea of putting herself completely out there for one person and that is probably why they were in such a position as Kenzie was afraid to lose him, even though she knew herself that continuing this carry on would be the main cause of it she couldn't help it, she loved him but she'd never admit that.

Kenzie eventually got out of bed, she slipped on her slippers and pulled her dressing gown over her before descending downstairs. She walked into the kitchen and rolled her eyes at the drunk lying on the floor just inside the door. She was sure that Emily had pulled him in this morning from the yard "You really need to start leaving him outside" she called into her sister before stepping over their father's body. She had no interest in her father, he was a low life bum and that was her only opinion of the man. Her Sperm Donor as she often referred to him as. Her eyes flickered to the sitting room as she boiled the kettle. Her eyes lit up as they spotted her brother on the couch and she squealed in excitement as she ran towards him diving for a hug. "How long are you home for?" she quizzed as they broke apart from the hug. He confirmed he was home for the summer and Kenzie grinned happily as she made a coffee before coming to sit in the sitting room again.

The three siblings spent hours conversing on the newest happenings in their life as well as reminiscing and Kenzie couldn't help but feel comfort in being here with her brother and sister, it was just like old times before James moved away and life got all that more difficult as teenagers lives seem to get. "So Drew...?" the question suddenly directed at her brought her attention back to the room and she turned to face her brother. She immediately saw the curiosity and concern on her brothers features and she gave him a light smile as she gave him the absolute bare minimum, the exact same response she had given Emmy a few months before hand. She could tell James was going to question her more and thought of how to leave when a saving grace in the form of a text came through. Kenzie smiled down at her phone as she read the text from Drew, it was a simple text but it meant that they were ok and that was all she needed to know. Excusing herself quickly Kenzie made her way to the room and replied to Drew before starting on her makeup for today. She decided on a light amount of makeup with off course her signature dark black eyeliner. She had just finished her makeup when her sister popped in to say goodbye. She hugged Emmy but groaned as she messed with Kenzie's hair "See you later" she called as Emmy left the room and house.

Kenzie checked her phone to see Drew had replied saying he was about 10 minutes away, she bit her lip as she looked at herself again in the mirror before getting up and moving to her wardrobe. She settled on a longish purple t-shirt opting to wear it as a dress, the hem of the dressing just covering her butt, her signature black fishnets and her combat boots. Admiring her outfit in the mirror, Kenzie did a small twirl. The dress was short but she was sure that Drew would enjoy it rather than be annoyed she wore it around the boys. Kenzie heard a car pull up outside and peaked out the window. She grinned as she saw Drew sitting in the car outside before turning back towards her room. She put on her necklaces, rings and bracelets before reaching under her bed to grab the handbag she had with her last night. She rummaged the bag making a mental list of everything she had; left over drugs, a naggin of whiskey, cigarettes, purse and keys. She swung the bag over her shoulder throwing her phone in as she made her way downstairs.

Kenzie left the house and walked to Drews car a slight sway to her hips as she walked towards him, her typical cheeky smirk plastered on her lips as she let herself into the passenger side. "Happy Independence day" she said leaning over to give him a peck on the lips before settling back into her seat. She put her bag on the floor beside her feet before turning to face him slightly "So where too" she asked him.












♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 
Abigail
Hargreaves
excited for fireworks!
https:///www.tumblr.com/abby.hargreaves
"Wake up, sweetie. It's the Fourth, I know how excited you've been for today." A soft voice spoke as a hand lightly rubbed the blonde girl's shoulder over the duvet that was covering her. Much to her dismay, Abigail woke up to her mother sitting on the side of her bed, sunlight poured into the room through sheer pink curtains, hitting her eyes. "Okay, I'm getting up. She slides out from under the covers as her mother stood up, gave her a kiss on the forehead and walked out of the room. Once out of bed, she immediately went to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. This consisted of showering, shaving, washing her face, and then applying her makeup, some may say a routine like this every day would be a bit excessive, but to Abby, it was the bare minimum.

"Now let's see what there is to wear in this closet." The girl spoke to herself as she opened the door to her closet that was packed full of colorful clothes. Her hands ran over multiple items that would be great contenders for the day's activities, but she wanted to stand out from the rest of the crowd. This lead to her making the decision of picking out a red bodycon dress with blue heels, a very patriotic outfit. Her hopes were that she would would be spotted by a recruiter for a modeling agency that was in Joplin for some odd reason, but that was very far-fetched.

Once finished getting dressed, the girl went downstairs to join her parents for breakfast. ”You are very dressed up for 9am, Abigail.” Her father spoke as she made her way down the stairs, it wasn’t very typical of the girl to be dressed the way she is this early in the morning, but she didn’t want to waste any time getting ready later on. ”I know, daddy, but I just wanted to make sure that my outfit was perfect for tonight!” She gives a little twirl as she reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks over to plant a kiss on the top her father’s head. The three sit down once Mary-Anne, Abigail’s mother, was finished cooking their breakfast and brought the plates to the table. This morning’s breakfast included pancakes, eggs, cantaloupe, and some oatmeal.

As the day passed on, the sun began to sink behind the horizon, and that’s when Abby would begin to have her fun. One last visit to her room for some liquor and she was ready to go for the night. A bottle of whipped cream vodka was slipped into her purse as she made her way back downstairs. Her parents had decided to stay in this night as to not seem like they were trying to hover over Abigail while she met more potential friends. With a quick goodbye, the girl was out the door and in her car, headed towards the pier.

After her arrival, she parks her car and opens up her purse to retrieve the bottle of alcohol. She twists the lid and takes a sip before pouring it into a flask to make mixing drinks easier. Abigail steps out of her car and makes her way to a stand that was handing out sodas for the younger crowd, ”Can I get an orange soda and a cup, please?” She spoke to the man who was attending the stand in a sweet and well mannered voice, just as she was raised to. The man cracked open the can and poured it into a solo cup that was filled with ice. She thanks him as she takes the cup and begins to walk away, discretely opening the flask and pouring what would be equivalent to two shots into the cup. She swirls it around to mix the two liquids together and begins to walk around.

Three more drinks later and the girl was buzzed, her speech was getting slurred and her walk was more of a stumble. As she walked around more, she slowly made her way to a line of port-a-potties. Her eyes looking off into the distance, seeing fireworks shoot off from somewhere beyond the pier, she didn’t realize someone had just stepped out of one of the facilities. Her drink sloshes around as she tries to gather her footing, but to no avail, she manages to spill her drink all over the young man’s shirt who was standing in front of her. ”Oh shi-, oh my god, I’m so sor-sorry.” Abigail spoke out, it all sounded like one word, but her buzzed, almost drunken state, stepped back as she realized what she had just done.
coded by reveriee.
 
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stella




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cabbage



terrorist synthesizer








It usually takes Stella four and a half cigarettes to reach the waterfront from her apartment. Chainsmoked, of course. One as she cut through the alleys, down the steps and onto Pacific Avenue; two in quick succession as she took a right turn downtown, passing the tavern and the mall; another as she reached the boulevard, and half before she reached her usual spot on the wooden bench between the skatepark and the shitty hot dog vendor. From here she could see all the lights and the excitement on the boardwalk. It made her laugh. Place some overpriced consumables and a huge hunk of rusting metal to give people half a chance of experiencing a few fleeting moments of adrenaline, and suddenly everyone forgets what a fucking trauma living in Joplin actually was. Sheep. All of them.

Well. Maybe a couple weren't that bad.

With a sigh, Stella took out her phone and hunched over her knees. She’d had bad posture since she was a kid, and 22 years in was not the time to start making changes.

where u

Jane, with the energetic passion for life Stella was missing, was keen to reply.

on the mf bus bitch wya

bench

She would know which one she meant. This had been Stella’s bench since eighth grade. If anyone did want to find her, which was rare, most knew where she would be. It was hidden out of the view of the public and barely lit by a singular flickering streetlight. It was as ominous as it sounded.

“Stellaaaa,” Jane cooed, appearing another cigarette later. “Enjoying yourself?”

Stella snorted. “Always, obviously,” she responded sarcastically. She extended her hand out and motioned to the sculpture in Jane’s grip. “Give me that. Let me see.”

Stella pried the small sculpture from Jane, handling it roughly, turning it around in her hands. She appreciated art, not the normal kind, not the kind people found ‘good’. She liked the messy, the abstract, the pieces that showed a little bit of the person. What else would be the point of it?

“Nice,” she complimented coolly, handing it back to her friend. “Put it somewhere good. Not where those fuckin’ kids can get to it.” She added, nodding vaguely at the fairground.

She sighed, patting the empty bench next to her. “Take a seat, pal,” she said, watching as the other girl, still donning sunglasses as the moon rose above them, did. “You got a bag? A morsel of green? Tell me you’ve got something. Dear Christ, I’ve been dyin’ these last couple’a days…”

Yes, Stella often sounded this desperate. People argued you couldn’t get addicted to weed, but they never said anything about becoming reliant. Stella’s emotions were a sliding scale, constantly flicking between one end and another. The weed levelled the scale out; muted it a little bit. She was more grounded, less frustrated. It soothed the itch in her brain that she otherwise couldn’t scratch. Don’t get her wrong, this wasn’t one of those false-friendship, only-using-you-for-your-drugs type things, not at all. Jane was a good friend; a close friend. One of the closest. The two of them had met in an art class years ago, and Jane had been around ever since. She was there when Stella lost Melanie, when she lost her mom to the Department of Corrections. She had seen it all, and never once did her friendship waiver.

With one hand, Stella cupped Jane’s chin with her fingers, smooshing her lips into a pout. “C’mon, Janey. Let ol’ Stell see the goods.”





♡coded by uxie♡
 
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