Realistic or Modern Port Vera

fieldofclover · Nov 4, 2022

caitlin.

.
.
.
.

mood

hungry and hormonal, the usual.
outfit

comfortable maternity but make it cute
location

friendsgiving.
interactions

reuben ( dear.szmm ), mention of riggs

tw: baby stuff for winny

Seven months ago, Cait couldn't have seen herself actually happily married to the guy who had knocked her up. Now, she was content with the situation - she actually got along pretty well with Reuben, even if he did sneak a cigarette here or there. (She knew - she had caught him in the act of smoking one a few times.) She was adamant about having the perfect circumstances for their unborn child. That meant no cigarettes, no alcohol, and no drama. Reuben had been mostly compliant with her on that, which really helped Cait stay less stressed. He had been to all of her OB/GYN appointments (and held her hand during all of the uncomfortable ultrasounds), and most importantly, he had gotten out of all the illegal activities he had excelled in back home. Reuben strove to be the perfect model husband, and in Cait's eyes, he was doing a pretty good job at it.

“One tall, fine glass of H2O for the parched lady, with lemon,” Reuben teased as Cait joined him again. She noticed that he had ordered a beer for himself as she grabbed her water, squeezing the lemon in before dropping the whole fruit in at the bottom. She didn't want him to drink, but it was the holidays, and she was in a good mood. Reuben noticed her eyeing the Budweiser. "And – well. I couldn’t help myself.” Cait decided not to address it. It was the season of giving, after all. If Reuben wanted to drink a couple of beers, that was his prerogative.

Cait had never been to the pub herself - after all, it had only been a few months since they had moved here, and on top of that, why would she come if she was expecting a child? But it seemed like a quaint little bar from what little she had seen of it. She knew she definitely wouldn't be coming here after their daughter was born - she'd be too busy with her to do much of anything. But that was the risk Cait took when she decided to actually have the kid. “C’mon, over here.” Reuben took her hand and led her over to an empty table. “Cozy, huh?”

Newcastle's bars were better, in her eyes. But this was still a nice bar. "I guess you could say that." Cait shrugged, taking a sip of her water. She felt uneasy about being here big and pregnant like she was. It wasn't a good look on her to be in the pub in such a state. “Riggs is here somewhere." Cait rolled her eyes at the mere mention of Riggs' name. Reuben's brother was a hot garbage fire that Cait would rather stay away from. “Though I don’t know how desperate I am to see him. Especially if he’s got his… uh, girlfriend with him. They’re both a piece of work on their own, never mind as a fucking duo.”

"Riggs has a girlfriend?" Cait didn't quite believe what she had just heard. Riggs Bonilla, her own brother-in-law, had a girlfriend? She'd have to see it to believe it. He didn't exactly seem like the committed type. "His girlfriend...does she, like, know he's fucking crazy?" She raised an eyebrow. This girlfriend of his must have not known Riggs long - or else she would have split ages ago.

“You look beautiful tonight, babe. Thank you for coming with me. I know I’ve been busy, but I’m always really proud when we get to go out together, and I could sit here and talk and look at you all night.” Cait couldn't help but blush at Reuben's compliment. It didn't matter how long they had been married - she still felt as if it were the first time he had looked her way. "Keep talking like that and I might make it worth your while." She reached out for his hand, tracing circles on the top of it. Cait still wanted to make her husband happy, even if she couldn't do everything she wanted to do to him like she used to. And besides, it had been a little while.

“Do you need anything? Hungry? I can go find the banana bread…” Cait felt a flutter as the baby kicked her insides. "It's not just me who wants it - baby girl's really looking forward to chowing down on some banana bread. But stay a while, first. I haven't seen you all day, let's talk."

olive juice.

hayley gene penner.

♡coded by uxie♡

fieldofclover · Nov 5, 2022

elliott.

.
.
.
.

mood

pissed the fuck off.
outfit

menacing clothes iykyk
location

airport.
interactions

deo (@0k_mang0 )

Elliott hadn't expected Deo to retaliate in the way that he had, with words instead of violence. “Had it ever occurred to you that your car might actually still be okay, or are you just that easily triggered when you're manipulated? I was gone for two weeks; who’s gonna believe you?” Deo's voice infuriated Elliott to no means. Elliott knew damn well that Deo had trashed his car, he just couldn't prove it. He watched as Deo tossed his backpack aside, gritting his teeth so hard that he thought they might break. “Wow, using my girlfriend as an insult ’cuz you don’t have one? How very mature and Christian of you.” Elliott didn't reply to Deo's retort. Instead, he took a step back, preparing himself for a fight to the death. “Leviticus also says haircuts are a no-no, but you still fuckin’ get them anyway.” Elliott opened his mouth to speak, but in the blink of an eye, his head had hit the hard concrete below. Deo had tackled him.

Now it was on. Elliott swung and swung at Deo until he couldn't anymore, connecting a few times before Deo started colliding his fists with his own face. That didn't stop Elliott from attempting to hit and kick his way to a victorious finish, however - he was determined to knock this fool out. But then Deo headbutted him, and things started going south even quicker. Elliott was stunned - how dare he headbutt him like that, as if he were a rowdy toddler? He didn't even have time to react, as Deo pinned him to the ground, smushing his face against the unforgiving tile below. Elliott couldn't move his arms, even as hard as he tried.

“Listen here, alpha shit McGee. I don’t think I’m better than you. I’m a fuckin’ dirtbag—" Elliott squirmed under Deo's weight, trying to break free. "Stop struggling like that, you’ll make me snap your arm.” Deo decided to make things worse and put even more pressure on his defenseless arm. Elliott finally stopped his futile effort - it was useless. He was still pissed, but there was nothing he could do about this situation now. Deo continued to speak, Elliott only half-listening at this point. "You come from a goddamn privileged family, while I came from nearly nothing. You could've tried finding something better to do than most people, but instead, you’re choosing to be a despicable pissant who thinks the world owes you a favor, or maybe working against you—but the truth is, it fuckin’ doesn't and it's not. You whine, lie, and run away like a coward every time someone calls you out for your deplorable ignorance and hypocrisy just ‘cuz you don’t know how to admit you’re wrong or apologize. I don’t hate you, Elliot. That would mean I consider you a threat, which I don’t. I pity you.” Elliott was fine with everything Deo had said up to that point, but those three words - I pity you - were the absolute worst things that anyone, let alone Deo, could have ever possibly said to him. Those words deflated his massive ego until it dissipated into nothingness. But before Elliott had a chance to respond, Deo filled the silence with even more bitterness.

“Because every time you look in the mirror, you see a useless, miserable phony that nobody wants around. Not Port Vera, not your own family. Not even Cait. She deserves better than having you hang around like some pathetic excuse of a parasite. And that's all you'll ever be if you don't get your-fucking-self together." Deo's words stung. He didn't have to bring up Cait like that - it was a low blow. But deep down, Elliott knew that Cait didn't want him around. Maybe going back to California was the best thing for him to do right now. He had made too many enemies here in Port Vera to count. He wasn't welcome here. Deo was right.

“Yeah, I’ve done and said lots of terrible things in the past, and my shitty mistakes have gotten people I loved killed or worse. But despite all the crappy things that happened to me, and will probably happen…” Deo trailed off, but Elliott soon found his hot breath tickling his ear as he began to whisper into it. “I’ll still end up happier than you, knowing that I’m not you. I may be going to hell, but the circle you're going down there is much worse where I'll be. The Devil loves torturing fraudulent scumbags like you.” It was no use arguing with Deo now. The sound of the airport security guards grew nearer. He couldn't put up a fight anymore. But of course, Deo had to get one last shot in before the guards actually got there.

“If you insult my girl like that again, if try to talk to her in person or touch her, I’ll bash in your teeth so far down your throat, you’ll be shitting in the dentist's chair for nine weeks. Enjoy the rest of your pathetic life.” And with that, Deo finally got up off of Elliott. All Elliott could muster was a weak "Fuck you" before the guards pulled him up onto his feet, a pair of handcuffs clamping tightly onto his wrists. The guards ushered him into a separate security cart from the one that they had put Deo in, a crowd of people peering in at him in morbid curiosity. "What the fuck are you looking at?" Elliott spat as they drove off with him. He was bloody and bruised, and he was fairly certain he had a concussion, but he was still filled with rage.

stable.

kara's flowers.

♡coded by uxie♡

gh0stwriter · Nov 6, 2022

Lucky DuBois

DuBois' Pub

barely skating by

t-shirt/jeans

interactions

Aiden, Ash, Adrian

Winona

gingersnaps

The thing about still living in the town you grew up in, aside from most things, is that people like to make you feel like you failed. Like you weren’t good enough to do anything else but fall back on the town that raised you. Maybe they were right, to an extent. Tabitha didn’t want to stay. Ash placed out the second she was able. Maybe he was just a massive fucking failure. And maybe Adriane Holloway got out. But at what cost?

Leaving behind her daughter? Putting herself above family? Lucky may not have been the smartest, but he was loyal…almost to a fault. Lennon had zero fucks to give about taking off. Didn’t even second guess it. Left him to clean up after his dad. A mortgage. And having to turn to Mason Rivera to bail out his bar. And now he was having to deal with too many fucking blasts from his past. He hated the holidays.

He shrugged off her comments. There was no pleasing Adriane Holloway, not that he ever tried. She was one of those girls born to be a Karen and figured ten years from now, she’d have a “can I speak to the manager haircut” and be forced to raise some poor rich guy’s kids. Couldn’t bring it upon herself to raise her own since there wasn’t anything in it for her.

“Martini.” He rolled his eyes. Could she get anymore basic. “Are you capable of making mixed drinks, or is everything here just straight from the bottle? I’d pull up a recipe for you, but I’m sure you never learned how to read, what, given how you were always too busy fucking anyone that would glance your way.”

“Aww, Holloway, I’m touched. Didn’t know you kept such a close eye on me in high school.” He winked as he grabbed the gin and vermouth from the shelf and began mixing her drink. “Too bad I was never into frigid bitches.” He didn’t like Adriane, if you couldn’t tell. Abandonment issues aside, she was just an awful person.

He shook the concoction together and poured it into a martini glass. He slid the glass in front of her. “One dry martini.” He said as he glanced up at her. “Figured dirty wasn’t your style.” He took a deep breath. “That’ll be ten dollars. Tip is not included, of course.” He said with a smirk. He fucking hated the holidays.

coded by natasha.

Winona · Nov 6, 2022

Adriane Holloway

fast car

the bar

lovely

bitchy

interactions

Lucky

gh0stwriter

Such a surprise.

(And for the record, that was sarcasm.)

DuBois hadn't changed a touch since high school -- he was still the same, basic, boring guy that thought his snarky attitude gave him an ounce of charm. While he made her drink, there was a rather annoyed look on Adriane's face, although... perhaps it was less due to annoyance, and more due to questioning. After all, she'd never gained an answer to her question of why Tabitha Cohen would bother wasting her time with the likes of him.

She supposed her answer was written after graduation -- Tabitha had up and left his sorry ass, which to Adriane clearly pointed towards her having simply settled for him and realizing that there was so much better out there. You know, whether she chose to stick to men or decided to... experiment in college, there was no doubt that she'd find significantly better far outside of the rancid pool of candidates in this town.

“One dry martini.” He said as she took the glass in hand. “Figured dirty wasn’t your style. That’ll be ten dollars. Tip is not included, of course.”

As if she'd bother tipping him.

Adriane naturally took a small sip of the drink, but her nose wrinkled up, and she ultimately spit the alcohol straight back into the glass. With a disgusted look still plastered on her pretty face, she placed the drink back on the counter top and slid it across towards him. A breathy sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest.

"I'm not paying for that garbage." She answered blatantly.

Whether she was being difficult and refusing to pay because the drink was actually bad, or because she wanted to be difficult, well... do a little cognitive thinking, and I'm sure you'll be able to piece together which of those two options it was.

"No wonder this bar is failing when you can't even make a decent martini. Tell me, where do you plan on going when you're jobless and homeless after the bank takes this bar from you by force?" She questioned.

"Kind of running out of people to beg for help, hmm?"

coded by natasha.

gingersnaps · Nov 8, 2022

scroll

cinnamon girl

Tabitha Cohen

mood

Tired.

outfit

Casual

location

DuBois Pub

interactions

Ash, Ryder

tags

gh0stwriter

Winona

jazzyball

He had no idea what he was doing.

Absolutely no fucking idea.

And okay. That could literally be a reference to every single thing in Lucky DuBois’ life, but in this case, he was thinking about one thing…and one thing only.

Friends-fucking-giving.

Mason just had to open his mouth. Then Raven. Then Amy. And now he was stuck planning an entire event he didn’t sign up for. Sure, it was bound to be successful. And they were going to make a killing. But holidays weren’t really his thing. Hadn’t been for a while. When Lennon was here, it’d been different. He’d make an effort at least for him, but he was gone now. He made it out. Out of this town. Away from all the baggage. Got a scholarship to NYU. He wasn’t surprised…the kid was a fucking genius. Way smarter than he’d ever be. Didn’t stop him from being a total dick about it. But that was Lucky’s MO.

Things get hard. Push it away.

He finished wiping the last surface and tossed the rag behind the bar. Any place his new feline roommate could have touched. Took a deep breath and scanned the room. The tables had been rearranged. The makeshift buffet was up against the wall and the bar was fully stocked. All that was left to do was set out the food, wash the smell of dirty bar off of him and figure out how he was going to get through the rest of the night.

His attention went toward the front door, Aiden had finally made it. He rushed for the door and held it open. “Dude…took you long enough.”

Aiden couldn't help but let out a sigh as he stepped into the bar, as many containers of food as he could possibly carry at hand- the rest of it was still waiting on his shitty, old van. It was ancient, falling apart at the seams, but it was the only form of transportation he had.

He felt slightly embarrassed about having Lucky see the old thing, he had to convince himself a thousand times on the way to the bar that he wouldn't care about something like that. But Aiden was paranoid at heart- and he felt even more embarrassed about the fact that he cared so much what Lucky thought.

Brushing his wandering thoughts aside, he set the food down on the first available surface he could find, turning to face Lucky.

“I said I was rushing.” Aiden shrugged at him “Didn't want the food to go bad on the way here.”

Aiden.

Another thing Lucky had no idea how to navigate. He blamed whiskey. It was all its fucking fault. One minute, they were wallowing in the tragedies that were their lives and the next Lucky had Aiden up against the bar…then trying their best to not fall (failing miserably) up the stairs and finally on the couch. There was no way they were making it to the bedroom.

He blamed the whisky. (And one, very brief makeout session sophomore year.)

The first time.

And the second. Rum for the third. Tequila for the fourth and fifth. And then…he could only blame himself. It was new. It was different. It was good. The sex was awesome. And definitely something that kept him distracted from everything else that was wrong with his life. He took a deep breath as he finally willed himself to meet Aiden’s gaze–always a dangerous action, because that usually led to sex.

He caught a brief whiff of the food. “Damn…who knew you could cook?” He joked trying to act as nonchalant as possible. “I’ll help you with the rest.”

“Right. Thanks.” Aiden replied, looking back at Lucky, holding his gaze for a beat. Being alone with DuBois like this wasn't so much stepping around eggshells as it was avoiding landmines. The first few timesAiden and Lucky had their secret rendezvous, he had some liquid courage to help ignore his brain going haywire, but now…

The tall, lanky boy cleared his throat, nodding toward the front door so Lucky would follow him.

“It’s in the van.” The shitty, destitute , miserable little van- his brain really needed to stop. It’s not like Lucky suddenly wouldn't want to sleep with him anymore just because he was struggling below the poverty line, that would be insane. That sort of thing only happened about inside Aiden’s head.

“Come make yourself useful, DuBois.” Aiden spoke with a half-smile on his face, the bar’s lights illuminating his dimples and freckles.

The two boys worked in a comfortable silence. Aiden couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't at least a little stupid, so he kept quiet, communicating mostly with glances and nods. He supposed Lucky should be sort of used to this by now, Aiden was reserved more often than not.

It was the sort of quiet that made people uncomfortable, but he hadn't managed to scare the other guy away yet, so…he was doing something right.

With everything settled in the kitchen, Aiden ran a hand through his dirt blonde curls, huffing as he struggled to remember if he’d gotten everything he needed for this so-called Friendsgiving event. Finally, he allowed himself to look back at Lucky.

“That’s everything.” He said finally, leaning back against the wall “So…what now?”

Lucky took stock of all the food. A blank look on his face as he looked over at Aiden. “You sure you made enough food?” He questioned. The immediate panic and dread washed over Aiden’s face and he couldn’t hold back the wicked smirk that formed on his face. “I’m just fucking with you, Parrish.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Breathe.” There was enough food to feed a small army.

He enjoyed that. He enjoyed it probably more than he should have, but Aiden was a friend…just a friend…and you were supposed to joke with friends. It was in the rule book or something. He took a deep breath and leaned against the counter. The silence again. Comfortable silence. Everything else in Lucky’s life was so loud. But Aiden got him. In a lot of ways, they were living the same life. Lucky ran a bar. Aiden ran a diner. Both their dads were drunken douche fucks and they had to grow up way too fast. Sure, Aiden’s mom was still alive, but two out of three was more than most.

The silence was beginning to weigh on him, though. He didn’t like the quiet for too long. Quiet…let his brain wander and he had no desire to take a trip down memory lane. “Anyone ever tell you, you are quite the conversationalist?” A smile formed as he glanced at Aiden, his eyes scanned his entire body. Oh boy, he was in trouble.

“No,” Aiden shook his head, “They just usually tell me I’m weird, so I avoid talking.”

Aiden didn't miss how Lucky had been staring. He hardly missed anything, always so observant, and in his company Aiden tended to be more than a little hyper-aware.

“Is that what you want to do, then?” Aiden blinked his clear eyes, watching Lucky as he spoke “Talk?”

No. Talking was the last thing that was on his mind. He was done with talking. Talking was complicated. Talking led to relationships. Relationships led to bull shit. And he was done with bull shit. But he was getting comfortable…and that kind of scared him, too.

“I know, right?” He mused. “What a crazy thought.” He said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the counter. He slowly closed the gap between them. “Okay, Parrish, you’ve got a better idea then?”

Bastard, Aiden thought as Lucky got closer and closer Stupid, pretty bastard.

It would be a lie to say Aiden was cool and smooth and totally didn’t freak out whenever Lucky made a pass at him. He was never the best at this. Even when he was with Niamh, she usually was the one to initiate things.

And this was a little more complicated than that. Not bad, not bad at all. It was a little too good, which couldn’t be more inconvenient.

“A couple, maybe.” The corner of Aiden’s lips quirked, a half-smile.He wasn’t as nervous about this as he used to be, nudging a bit closer to him, head slightly tilted to the side. “How much time do you have to hear them out?”

“A couple, huh?” Lucky smirked as he slid as close as he could without touching. This had been their game. Who’d make the first move? Usually him. Would one of them finally back down and realize they were headed for disaster? They never did. But maybe tonight was the night. He’d do the smart thing and call it off.

“Probably about an hour.” He said as he sighed and stepped back. “Should probably shower and get ready.” He stated as he turned and walked toward the door that led to his upstairs apartment.

He opened the door and stopped. Taking a deep breath, he glanced back. “You coming?”

If Aiden was smarter, he’d say no. He’d find an excuse and get out of here as fast as he could, back to the “safety” of his house.

Instead, he smiled up at Lucky, following him to the door.

“Lead the way, DuBois. Clock’s ticking.”

————————————————————————————--

Aiden liked to be distracted. Being busy was his normal state of mind, and as tired as he was, it had become a bit of a comfort.

If his hands were busy, his mind was busy. Other than necessity, it was why he drowned himself in work so much.
It was also why he came running when Lucky called.

A rather ass-backwards, unproductive solution to his overthinking, since as soon as their encounters were over, Aiden found himself with a brand new reason to send his brain into overdrive.

So Friendsgiving came as a blessing. Aiden was much too occupied with making sure the food he was serving was perfect to torture himself.

He did his job, and he did it damn well, no matter how much Mason bitched and whined about his presence. Aiden, honestly, did not care. Rivera could say whatever he wanted about him or the food, throw as many hissy fits as he’d like. Aiden only cared about getting paid.

“Here you go.” Aiden smiled at the unfamiliar girl as he handed her a plate. It looked good, and smelled even better, Aiden was allowing himself to feel proud of how well everything was going. “Hope you enjoy it, have a nice time.”

The costumer smiled back at him, warm and sweet, thanking him as she walked to her seat. She was a pretty girl. Aiden caught himself watching her for a second, unaware of the couple approaching him.

"Aiden," Jace West smiled as he spoke his name, suddenly bringing Aiden back to his reality after his 10 seconds of distraction. Aiden took him a second to realize he was being talked to, and who was doing the talking.

That’s what you get. He thought to himself. That’s what you get for losing focus, idiot.

“Oh.” Aiden said after a couple seconds, feeling like a dumbass as he looked between Jace and the unfamiliar guy he was with. “Hi, Jace.”

“Hey Alex, this is Aiden,"Jace pointed at him, a little too enthusiastically, throwing Aiden off his rhythm again, "and he was my first kiss back in high school.” Huh? “But he really hated it or something because he'd kind of," Huh?

That was one of the things about Jace that Aiden could never relate to. He just opened his mouth and talked.

Aiden blinked as Jace recounted their teenage experience a little too loudly for his preferences. The boy proceeded to do something very weird with his face, and Aiden could physically feel the pang of annoyance and discomfort he felt in his chest manifesting in his face.

"that. He did that right there.”

Fucking hell-

“So we never dated or talked again after that."

Well, that wasn't even true. Aiden never hated Jace- quite the fucking opposite, if anything.

It wasn't his fault his face was permanently stuck like that.

"How're you doing?"

“Right.” Aiden said, blinking as he found the words. Unlike Jace, he didn't know how to just say things. “I’m good. Working.”

He gestured vaguely toward the food, slightly avoiding Alex’s gaze. He already had Rivera disliking him over a teenage relationship Aiden had with Niamh, he could only hope Alex wasn't here to pick a fight with him over a kiss that happened so many years ago.

Though, Alex didn't seem like the type-

"It would appear that Jace has a type,"

Well, fuck. He thought about asking Lucky to make him a drink laced with cyanide.

Alex talked, and no matter how he was smiling and how light he sounded, Aiden could feel the hidden spite in his voice.

He supposed Alex did look like Aiden if he wasn't so…Aiden. He couldn't find the right words to describe himself. Aiden was just Aiden, unfortunately for everyone else.

"Listen man, I want to thank you. If you hadn't been Jace's gay awakening, who knows if I'd ever get a chance with him?" Alex kept talking, and Aiden nodded, unsure what the hell he was supposed to respond to something like that.

“Uh-huh. Yeah, sure, you’re so welcome.” Aiden nodded, avoiding eye contact with…honestly, everyone and anyone, involved in this conversation or otherwise “...Do you want a turkey sandwich?” He offered, hoping for a change of subject, or for a hole to open up which he could fall through.

“I need a drink.” Alex said, smiling to his boyfriend.

“You and me both, man.” Aiden muttered, to himself.

♡coded by uxie♡

[/borde

Soap · Nov 8, 2022

Josephine Burkhart

Karma

Duboi's pub

ha…ha

all warm

interactions

Elijah
@Cactus

Josie couldn’t believe what was happening.

Sure, they’ve had some run-ins in high school but she’s ever had a conversation with him go this well. She supposed a big part of it was because she wasn’t an awkward, hormonal and socially inept teenager.

Now, Josephine was merely an awkward, young adult.

You know… she was proud of herself.

A good amount of her anxiety had subsided and the tension in her shoulders relaxed.

She still felt a little bad about spilling her drink on him… but… dwelling on the last minute probably wasn’t good for anyone. “Man, I used to love Geronimo's back in the day. I'm sure the diner's in safe hands.”

Josephine nodded. “Oh, it is! Aiden’s… um…”

He was too stubborn for his own good and had trouble accepting help no matter who– or where it came from… which didn’t stop Josie from offering. She waved her poor attempt at a reply away, deciding to leave it at a simple;

“It is.”

Working at the diner had actually provided a sense of purpose for Josie, albeit admitting that to a few certain people they’d label that as sad– she looked forward to work. She didn’t mind working with Aiden and Nick. She enjoyed waitressing, enjoyed the customers.

It was a nice change of pace compared to her regular routine.

“Yeah! I remember Jace,” The holidays were a great excuse to visit home. She wasn’t surprised that he was only here for Thanksgiving. She probably wouldn’t give up New York either if she was in his shoes.

(Let’s be honest though, she never would be)

“I think that’s really somethin’ you know, that you guys have your own place, you’re both… music… buds… ‘sounds like a match made in heaven.” Josephine only knew Jace by association with Ash, through Lucky and the few occasions they’d show up at church, but they weren’t all that close.

Elijah explained he was on the waiting train for his album to be released and his next words brought on a red flush to her cheeks. “How did you know I was not on tour? Stalk much?" Josephine rolled her eyes but a smile played on the edges of her lips. “I—“

“I do follow you on facebook, I am not a stalker if I regularly keep up with my high school peers, maybe… maybe you’re the stalker, hmm? I was here first.” She teased, the blonde put her hands up in defense.

Elijah placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning in close enough that caused Josie’s brows to furrow before her smile widened at his words. “And by the way, I'll have you know that I beat that drunkard Tommy in the hugging contests fair and square. Unbeaten, seven years in a row." He said quietly.

“I’d offer to be the judge of that… but…” Her gaze flitted to his hoodie that was evidently stained wet and she brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Gosh, I don’t know how it happened, but you're soaked.”

The polite thing to do was to buy him a drink. Make up for the fact that he was currently wearing her own. “I’ll tell you what though, I’ll award you the title anyway, just… don’t tell Tommy.” Josephine looked the older man’s way and he lifted his beer towards them, giving them both a nod of acknowledgement.

A hand reached to mess with the golden cross around her neck.

“What’ll be your reward, my good sir?"

coded by natasha.

dear.szmm · Nov 8, 2022

Niamh

filler

home (filler tab)
mood

fine, content

filler
outfit
click

filler
location

dubois' pub

filler
interactions

mason

filler
tags

Winona

filler
home (filler tab)

Harry Styles

Kiwi

Niamh was a mirror.

That was the thing about her. She soaked up the atmosphere around her; other people and their emotions, their behaviour - then replicated it right back.

Tonight, the atmosphere in the bar was palpable, and growing busier by the minute. Niamh felt the excitement and let it run through her, becoming almost giddy with the celebratory spirit.

She sipped her wine, listening fondly to the way her boyfriend went back-and-forth with his daughter. Part of her wished she could have had a dad who was half the father Mason was. He was protective, obviously, but not detrimentally. Ari was still very much autonomous, unsmothered, left just enough to her own devices. Mason and Raven had done a good job; the absent mother left a little to be desired. Whatever. From the knowledge Niamh had, Adriane was better off out of the picture. What did she have to contribute anyway? Not much fucking more than Mason and Ari already had.

“So,” Mason said, turning back to Niamh, “How’re you tonight? Busy with ahh… school today? Midterms or some shit?”

“Had my last one today, actually,” she said smugly from behind the rim of her glass. “So I could not be better.”

She hesitated a second, sighing before continuing. “Well, that's sort of untrue. Milly called. My mom’s asking after me. I think she’s angling to come pay a visit, but if she thinks that's happening she can get fucked.”

Quickly remembering Ari’s presence, she glanced panickily at her, then back to Mason, mouthing a quick “sorry”.

She took a gulp of wine. “Anyway, whatever, it’s not happening. She’s probably heard about you and wants to come scope us out. See what sins we’ve got under our belts.”

Niamh shook her head, a chuckle curling on the edges of her lips, her eyes on the half-empty glass she was still holding.

She sighed again, willing the anger and the frustration out of her. Tonight was a happy night; she was celebrating the end of her exams, the upcoming holiday, being happy and healthy and loved. The other stuff was irrelevant. If and when it happened; it could wait until then.

“It looks really good in here, babe. Food doesn’t smell all that bad either.” She smiled, regaining her clarity. “Still think you could’ve done with a few fresh dips, y’know,” she mumbled, sort of waffling away to herself now, “some salsa, some guac, even some tzatziki... I could’ve made them before I came…”

She was staring through him now, off in some other space, lips pursed and eyebrows raised. She took nothing if not cooking very seriously.

“Anyway,” she chimed, snapping back to the present. She slid off her stool, throwing her bag over her arm. “I’m going to go find Raven or something, maybe see if Tabs is around, check how she’s doing. I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Walk home when you’re done?”

♡coded by uxie♡

Realistic or Modern Port Vera

fieldofclover

tis the damn season

fieldofclover

tis the damn season

gh0stwriter

Junior Member

Winona

No, I don't have too many characters.

gingersnaps

actually viktoria >:)

gingersnaps

actually viktoria >:)

Soap

faisons un vœu

dear.szmm

bark bark grrrr

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