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Realistic or Modern Whispering Pines ᨒ↟ 𖠰 ~ Cozy Winter SOL ~ MAIN

Chandra Cherukuri

F
loccinaucinihilipilification. The ridiculous word one of Chandra’s lackeys had brought up to her just a month ago. No doubt, they thought it would impress her with their knowledge of such a big, obscure term. Instead, it only irritated her. She thought the word itself was idiotic and, by extension, so was the person who had so eagerly tried to show off. She found them stupid for thinking she’d be impressed. And in the painfully long seconds it took them to drag the word from their throat, her mind had already settled on one simple, conclusive thought: she hated them. She needed to update her assistant to ensure this person would be kept far, far away from her.
A whole month had passed since that painful encounter, but the absurd word still lingered in her mind, like a bitter aftertaste. Particularly now, as she walked from one disappointing clothing store to the next in the small town of Revelstoke.
Unimpressed. Let down. Disappointed. It was the same sinking feeling every time. Just a sinking feeling that the clothing stores available here would leave her with a sense of Floccinaucinihilipilification.
Stupid fucking word.
Huffing, she pulled her phone from her pocket, tapping the screen to open her notes app. She scrawled the name of the latest store into a section marked blacklist, typing it out with disdain. At this point, she was moving into the final stretch opening up the section of her notes with the stores that were supposed to actually be good: the stores her friend Stephanie had recommended. Scanning the list, she noticed one store she had passed on her way to this latest disappointment. It had caught her eye. It had to be better, right?
Tucking the phone into her coat pocket, Chandra crossed the street with renewed determination, her heels clicking sharply against the sidewalk. There was hope again. A glimmer of it. This was a store recommended by someone she actually respected.
When she stepped inside, the immediate warmth from a heater blasting overhead was a welcome change from the biting chill of the outside air. The store’s layout was simple, well-organized—none of the chaos she'd encountered elsewhere. The clothes on display didn’t make her want to scream.
Her eyes swept over the array of fabrics, and she took out her phone to make a quick note as she appraised the offerings. A feeling of satisfaction for once fluttered in her chest. It was a step in the right direction, at least. Goodbye Floccinaucinihilipilification.
She scanned the fabrics surrounding her with a pointed gaze until her gaze landed on him.
A man, standing in front of a mannequin dressed in a grey suit. He was eyeing it lazily, looking like he was getting ready to buy it, completely unaware of how badly the suit would suit him. The shade wasn’t right, the fit was all wrong. The material? It was clear that this was a man who had the plan to just walk in, grab the first suit he saw, and hope for the best—without even considering whether it was a good choice for his complexion, his body shape, or even his personal style. If he had any of that at all.
A smirk tugged at Chandra’s lips.
She loved seeing people make mistakes, especially when it came to fashion. There was something undeniably satisfying about watching someone completely miss the mark—seeing them choose the wrong item with the same level of confidence they would show when making the perfect decision. It was entertaining to watch people making fashion faux pas so confidently.
Usually she'd watch the person, laugh to herself about it then move on.
But for some reason, this moment wasn’t like the others.
Her irritation rose as she watched him fumble with the suit. She didn’t care. Why should she care if this man spent his money on something that would never look good on him? It wasn’t her problem. She didn’t need to help him. She was supposed to be helping herself; this was supposed to be research for her own shopping, not babysitting someone else’s fashion blunders.
And yet, the longer she watched him, the more this irritating feeling of needing to act seemed to swell. She sighed, clicking her heels sharply against the floor as she marched over to him.
With an almost reflexive motion, she reached out and stopped him from grabbing the suit. Her hand slapping against his arm with the authority of someone putting a child in their place for reaching into a cookie jar.
"Absolutely not. That suit would look like shit on you. Do you want to look like shit? Because if that's not your goal, I suggest you take a good look at something else. Something in a totally different color."

Her words were probably sharper than they needed to be, but she was beyond caring. The man had drawn her in without doing a single thing to deserve it, and it pissed her off. Politeness wasn’t at the forefront of her mind in the moment.
"The blue suit over there might suit you better. Come."

Without waiting for a response, she nodded toward the suit she was referring to—a much more appropriate choice—and started to move toward it.
If the man had any sense at all, he’d follow her.
She didn’t usually offer her advice for free. But here she was, stuck in the middle of this ridiculous interaction, trying to make the world a little less aesthetically painful for the clueless.


outfit:
location:
Clothing Store

tags:
Paul Lizy Lizy
 
FLORENCE ANGELES
Florence had just pulled up to the parking lot of The Vault, in his car. As he found an empty spot and backed up into it, all he could do was lecture himself in his own head. He was panicking. Even though he shouldn't be, he was. This was his and Clive's chance to finally get out and have a good time. Just the two of them having fun at the New Years Eve party. Florence didn't want to screw things up. He'd been fumbling this relationship so hard. He liked Clive. He couldn't deny that to himself anymore. He was crazy about the guy.

It wasn't just that he was hot.Florence felt a real kinship with him. Something he hadn't really felt with anybody before. It was so bad that he even went to his brother, Casper himself, for advice on how to win him over. And, surprisingly to Florence, Casper had provided his own wisdom on the matter. But that also meant that he was on his case about what Florence was doing wrong. And that was the fact that he needed to man up about his feelings already.

Florence knew that, but he just couldn't. He didn't know exactly what it is that he was afraid of. The rejection? Well, duh! That was a big one. His internalized homophobia? That one confused him. Plenty of people here are gay. And Florence knew that he didn't just swing towards guys. So what was the problem? Maybe it was his dad. His fear of what he'd think about that. But what did it matter now? He already kicked Florence to the curb and wanted nothing to do with him now. Florence hadn't even spoken to him in a while. Maybe it was just his inner longing to earn his respect.

Regardless, all these thoughts and questions running around in Florence's head would have to be put aside right now. Tonight was a night for nothing but good vibes only. He wasn't gonna let his internal struggles ruin anything. He was just gonna get in there and party the night away. No awkward conversations or anything like that. Florence took a deep breath, fixing his hair and his jacket. Here goes nothing.

After stepping out of his car and locking it behind him, Florence made his way up to the doors of the nightclub. He could already tell, just from the outside that the place was bumping. The vibrations of the bass was pulsing through the floors and in his chest before he even got to where the party was at. And once he did, it was like of rush of energy had hit him. Lights were flashing, the music was loud, and everybody was all around dancing and having a good time. Florence looked around with genuine curiosity as he stepped in. He might have to see about performing at this place. But hey, he didn't have to worry about being the DJ tonight.

He stepped and scooched through the crowd, trying to find where Clive was. He said to meet him by the tables. Once Florence was out of the wave of people, he saw Clive standing there with a drink. He gulped before inwardly chastising himself. No awkardness, Florence. Just get on over there and bond with him. Florence shook the chills out of himself before heading over to Clive. He bumped his arm with his elbow as he smiled as casually at him, "How's it going, dude? Wild party, huh?"

Mentions: Lizy Lizy - Clive
coded by kaninchen
 
ZANE BENNETT
Zane’s excitement for the night was borderline ridiculous. The Vault was, apparently, the place to be on New Year’s Eve with its blasting music, overpriced drinks, and sea of people pretending they weren’t going to regret their choices in the morning. But for once, it wasn’t just the party he was looking forward to. Casper would be there. And after the nights they had spent together… well, Zane wasn’t exactly sure what it meant, but he knew one thing, he wanted to see him again.

Getting ready was an event in itself. His silver sparkly top was an obvious choice, shimmering under his bedroom lights like it had been made for a night like this. The pants, however, were another story. Leather. Tight. Unforgiving. And the only reason he was even considering them? Casper had mentioned that they would look good on him. So, naturally, Zane had to wear them. After a solid ten minutes of struggling, hopping, and nearly toppling over, he finally got them on. “Okay. Hot. Questionable mobility, but hot.”

Arriving at The Vault was pure chaos. The line was long, the bass could be felt from outside, and people were already half-drunk before even stepping through the doors. Zane, however, barely noticed. His eyes were already scanning the room for Casper.

Before he could think too much about it, he made a beeline for the bar. “Vodka soda, heavy on the vodka.” The bartender barely nodded before turning to mix the drink. Zane drummed his fingers against the counter. A stupid, nervous energy was buzzing through him.

And then, like some cosmic joke, he felt it. That familiar presence. His eyes immediately began to scan the room, and then he finally spotted him.

Deciding the take the brave road, Zane waved Casper over, and just like that the drink in Zane’s hand didn’t seem nearly strong enough.

Mentions: Casper - Lizy Lizy
coded by kaninchen
 
CALLA CARLTON

Calla hadn’t planned on going to The Vault tonight. She wasn’t even sure she’d still be in town for New Year’s, until the blizzard happened. Until Finn happened. Now, she was here, dressed to kill, with a singular mission: find someone who isn’t him.

She hadn’t spoken to Finn since their fight at the Lodge. Days had passed, and he hadn’t reached out. Maybe he was still mad. Maybe he was too proud. Maybe he didn’t care at all. Whatever the reason, Calla wasn’t about to waste another second thinking about him. If he didn’t want her, fine. There were plenty of men who would.

By the time she arrived at The Vault, the party was already in full swing. The bass thumped beneath her feet as she stepped inside, the air thick with heat, sweat, and expensive cologne. People pressed close, dancing, laughing, spilling drinks on each other without a care. She barely made it two steps in before a guy at the bar turned to look at her. He was tall, had a decent face, and looked at her with interested eyes. Perfect.

She slid up beside him, tapping the counter. “Something sweet.” The bartender barely acknowledged it but began to mix the drink, and before she could even glance around, the guy beside her leaned in. “You here alone?”

Calla tilted her head, flashing a slow, lazy smile. “Yes.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe that change.”

His grin widened, and just like that, she had exactly what she wanted. Distraction, attention, and someone who wasn’t Finn. Yet, as the guy spoke, as the music pounded and the drink touched her lips, she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere in the crowd, Finn was here, too. Watching. Or maybe not. Maybe he didn’t care at all.

She took a long sip. Good. If he didn’t care, neither did she.

Mentions: Finn - PotatochipsRlit PotatochipsRlit
coded by kaninchen
 
EMILY CHARTER

Emily had only been in Revelstoke for a few days, but she was already in love with the place. It was the perfect winter escape. And after spending the last few days bundled up in luxury ski gear and taking aesthetic photos in front of scenic mountain backdrops, it was time for something a little more fun.

New Year’s at The Vault was exactly that. The club was packed, a whirlwind of flashing lights and pulsing music, and Emily was thriving. Well... she would be, if Lukas wasn’t actively chasing her around the club. Her bodyguard was great at his job (annoyingly so), but she was in the mood to play a little game. So far, she’d slipped away twice, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.

Until she looked up.

Lukas had climbed onto one of the club’s beams, obviously cheating at their game, and was scanning the dance floor like some kind of tactical sniper. Emily huffed, suppressing a laugh. He takes this way too seriously. She had maybe three minutes before he spotted her again. Which meant she needed to move.

Making her way deeper into the crowd, Emily let herself get swept into the music, swaying to the beat as she made her way to the dance floor. The energy was electric with bodies pressed close and laughter filling the air. She was barely paying attention when she spun and bumped hard into someone. “Oh! Sorry—” She looked up, mid-apology, and her words caught in her throat.

Tall. Strong. Ridiculously handsome.

Okay, maybe running from Lukas wasn’t the highlight of her night after all. A slow smile curved her lips, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m Emily,” she said, offering her hand. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around.”

Mentions: Owen - fieldofclover fieldofclover and (slightly) Lukas - celestialbody celestialbody
coded by kaninchen
 
EVELYN HUGO

New Year’s Eve at The Vault was supposed to be the biggest, most extravagant party of the year. For most people, that meant drinks, loud music, and questionable decisions. For Evelyn, it meant pure, unrelenting stress.

She had been running nonstop since the afternoon, making sure everything was perfect. Every detail had to be immaculate. She had done this too many times to let anything slip through the cracks.

And yet, things still found ways to go wrong. The second she spotted the flickering, sparking light above the DJ booth, Evelyn felt her soul leave her body. “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath, already storming over.

A tech guy was supposed to be handling these things, but clearly he wasn’t doing his job. With no time to track him down, she grabbed a chair, climbed up (in heels, no less), and twisted at the loose wiring until the sparks stopped. “Don’t explode,” she whispered at the fixture. “Just give me one night.”

As soon as she hopped down, she spotted a server walking past, tray full of empty glasses. Which would’ve been fine, except he was moving at a snail’s pace with his eyes locked on a group of girls near the VIP section instead of literally doing his job. Evelyn snapped her fingers. “Jadon.”

The server jumped. “Uh—yes?”

“If I catch you ogling guests instead of working one more time, I will personally make sure you spend the next month polishing every glass in this building.” She gave him a sharp look, tilting her head. “Understand?”

He swallowed. “Y-Yeah. Sorry, boss.”

She exhaled. One crisis down. A million more to go. By the time she made it past the bar, she was exhausted. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could run around putting out fires... literally. She needed a moment of peace. Just one.

And then, like a gift from the universe, she spotted Brooke. Evelyn barely made it to the dancer before her body gave up. Her shoulders sagged and she leaned against Brooke, forehead lightly pressing against her shoulder. "Kill me," she mumbled, voice muffled. "Or at least put me out of my misery."

Mentions: Brooke - vixe vixe
coded by kaninchen
 
mood :
nervous/excited

location :
her room, the lodge
outfit :
mentions :
n/a

interactions :
Violet vixe vixe
Blanc
;; Tara
Tara was not one for relaxation. Or maybe, relaxation for her was different than what the word looked like for most people. When she found herself with a free hour before Violet was supposed to show up at her room in the lodge, she was planning. Pulling out files, gathering info, coming up with strategic plans. She felt at home doing this stuff really, she wouldn't want to do anything else.

The thought of seeing Violet again made her both nervous and excited. It had been a long time. Too long. She had enjoyed the time she spend with Violet before, they made a very efficient duo. The time they spent together not ruining men's lives was an unexpected bonus. But, as always, all good things had to come to an end. Tara had to leave. In her line of work, sticking around never ended well.

Sometimes she wondered if she'd ever be able to stick around for someone. There were people she cared about a great deal, she wasn't incapable of love like some people were, she knew that much. But, she had to leave them at one point or another for their safety as much as her own. It would be reckless of her not to.

Tara found her gaze drifting to the clock on the wall. Only a few minutes until Violet was supposed to show up. She looked around the room seeing if there was anything to tidy up, anything she needed to hide. Of course there wasn't, she was fully prepared long ago. She occupied a few minutes with fixing her lipstick in the mirror before she heard a knock at the door. She stood and went right to it, opening it smoothly to see her partner in crime. "Come in."
coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
ready to get lit (a healthy amount of lit though)

location :
his apartment
outfit :
mentions :
n/a

interactions :
Naomi fieldofclover fieldofclover
Holt
;; Julian
Julian smiled at Naomi's outfit reveal and let out a soft chuckle at her speculation of his thoughts. "Guilty," he shook his head with a smirk. "Can you really blame me though? You're ridiculously hot." He stated this like it was something anyone in their right mind would think. And to him, it seemed like it should be. Anyone who didn't want Naomi was probably a damn fool.

"I'll take it," Julian offered, reaching out for her coat. Once it was in his hands he took a few steps over to a coatrack and hung it up, making sure it was secure on its hook. Smooth greeting? Check. Being a total gentleman? Double check. Tonight was already going really well.

He turned back towards her, with a grin on his face. "Alright, let's get lit," he called out in a singsong manner. "Can I get you a drink? Tequila sunrise, extra cherries?" He asked, walking towards where the drinks were. Julian didn't even wait for a response before getting to the bottles, beginning to make the drink.

"Sit down, sit down. Get comfortable," he urged as he mixed the drink. "So, any big plans for the new year?" Julian handed Naomi her drink as he asked, going right back to make his own drink as he listened to her reply.

He set out to make a simple vodka tonic. The first shot of vodka he poured got downed instantly though, he couldn't resist. It would put him at ease for a while at least, he wasn't one to sit there and slowly sip a drink, but he was determined to do just that with Naomi. The shot was going to help him get through that. He finished making his drink, then sat beside Naomi on the couch, making himself comfortable.
coded by reveriee.
 









scroll








new years eve.



parker hunt.













mood.

annoyed.















location

outside a store.











interactions

westley.




















Parker Hunt was not having a good day. It was New Year's Eve and she had fuck all to do. She had dressed nicely and then walked into town to try and find something to do as it wasn’t nearly early enough to go to the club. But also, she did not want to spend it at the club as she knew the gaggle of influencers would probably be there and she couldn’t handle dealing with them at this current time.

What Parker was not expecting was to see a massive man in the process of being jumped. Or almost jumped? It was a confusing thing to watch, but then the other man pulled a knife. She groaned, getting her phone out to call the police, but stalled, the man was just standing there, even though he was arguably way bigger than the robber.

"What the hell?"
She said softly, wondering why the man wouldn’t fight back. The fighter in her rose to the surface and she started that way before she could even stop herself.
"Hey, dickhead!"
She shouted, getting the robber’s attention once she was close enough.

She knew she shouldn’t get involved, especially with her shoulder injured, but she could still kick and she still threw a mean left hook. She knew she had to disarm the man before hitting him, so while she had the element of surprise, she kicked up and knocked the knife out of the man’s hand. Thank God she was wearing pants and not the mini skirt she had almost decided on.

Once she had done that, she threw her left hook at the man in the jaw and then gave him a quick jab to the nose, which gave a satisfying crunch. Her shoulder was screaming as she had thrown the jab with her right arm, aka the injured one.

But the guy was so disoriented, he looked at Parker and grabbed his nose saying, “Fucking crazy bitch!”
This made Parker grin,
"Yeah I fucking am."
She then looked at the man, her demeanor fully shifting to a more soft approach,
“You okay? He didn’t get you or anything did he?”



♡coded by uxie♡
 
now playing: this empty northern hemisphere - gregory alan isakov

Business never slowed down for the Haven family, even on a holiday. But even if Chandler did happen to want to celebrate the new year, he'd have nobody to celebrate it with. And he definitely wasn't going to spend the evening with his father. So he worked late alongside his new assistant, Amelia Summers. It was their first day working together, and everything seemed to be going well, at least, on his side of things. If Miss Summers had any concerns, she hadn't made them available for him to hear.

Eventually, though, he had to let her go for the night. He wasn't a total monster (and Richard sure wasn't going to pay anyone any overtime). And after nearly an hour of working alone, Chandler, too, decided to call it quits. He was the last one out of the office, making sure to lock up behind himself as he made his way through the parking lot over to his sleek black BMW. Moving to Revelstoke hadn't been his idea. If he would have had it his way, he probably would have stood up for himself and let his father leave on his own accord. But Chandler was weak. If he left the family, then he'd truly be alone in the world. And being alone was something that he couldn't do. Not now, not ever.

He rested against the leather seat behind him once inside, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. If he had any backbone at all, then he wouldn't have stayed loyal to his father this long. A lot of heartbreak and pain could have been avoided if he had hightailed it out of there as soon as he was able to. But it wasn't as easy as it was made out to be. Chandler had seen (and unfortunately took part in some) many less-than-stellar behavior over the years. Leaving put him at risk of Richard snitching on him and sending him to prison for a long time. And even though Chandler was an excellent lawyer, he couldn't exactly defend himself in court. (Well, he technically could, but then he'd probably be found guilty in that case.)

Chandler opened his eyes, sitting forward and running a hand through his hair. He was a Haven. He'd always be a Haven. There was nothing he could do to change it. But the one thing that he could do was grab a drink. If he couldn't change who he was, at least he could drink to forget who he was.

So he headed down to The Vault, the only place he knew that served alcohol in this town. (Cut him some slack - he's new, okay?)

Packed was an understatement. Moving through the crowd to get to the bar was a pain in the ass. The music was loud and obnoxious. The lights were blinding. But eventually, he stood in front of the counter, waiting for a bartender to come up to him for his order. To his left, there was a girl in a sparkling gold dress bickering with a guy. To his right, a nervous-looking fellow waited for a friend to meet him at the bar. Typical club behavior. When the bartender finally got to him, he slid a crisp bill over.

"Whiskey, neat."

wearing: living here in this city on fire
tags: vixe vixe (Amelia)
pantone
®

#6f622d
Chandler Haven


coded by weldherwings.
 
now playing: autumn town leaves - iron and wine

Crowded clubs weren't Reece's thing. Maybe when he was in college, it was, but these days? Not so much. So he opted to explore the ice and snow tunnels that had been built after the big storm a few days ago. And with a few texts sent between him and Dallas, Reece would soon have somebody to explore them with. He zipped his jacket up as he faced the cold around him, walking over to the area where the tunnels were. It was absolutely deserted. Guess everyone was partying it up, celebrating the new year in style. Reece waited alone, keeping his hands warm in his pockets. He wasn't going to go in without Dallas. If he got lost in there, he'd have to just melt his way out of there through the heat of embarrassment.

But getting embarrassed wasn't in Reece's cards today. Getting nervous about being out here in the dark alone? Now that was more likely.

And when Dallas finally showed her beautiful face, he couldn't keep the smile off of his lips for long. "I'm glad you decided to come. Without you, I'd have gotten myself totally lost in the maze of ice." His tone was joking, but there did happen to be a little bit of truth in there. "Happy New Year's Eve, by the way. There's no one else I'd rather spend tonight with."

wearing: i just want to see you in the morning
tags: murphalicious murphalicious (Dallas)
pantone
®

#d6d9d2
Reece Spencer


coded by weldherwings.
 
now playing: king of the fall - the weeknd

Revelstoke, British Columbia, Canada. Was it the luxurious beach vacation that Owen had expected when his friend surprised him with an all-expenses paid trip? Hell no. And when he had told this friend that, they had cut him off from their lives for good. So now he was stuck in a foreign country, with barely any money, no job, a lodge stay that was about to expire, and no way to get back home. So Owen was screwed. But at least while he was here, maybe he could screw someone else, preferably blonde and hot. What could he say? He knew what he liked.

Going to The Vault was a no-brainer. Getting drunk led to getting laid, and getting laid led to pure happiness. So he had to throw back some shots - and the sooner, the better. Giving one of his many credit cards to the bartender to open a tab, he ordered four shots of Fireball. The cinnamon whiskey burned like hell going down, but got him a healthy buzz going. His next stop was the dance floor, where he scanned the crowd of sweaty, dancing bodies for a partner. But before he could settle on one, he felt someone run into him, the thump startling him. Anger started to course through him.

He turned around to see who had bumped into him, about to rip someone a new one. But before he opened his mouth to argue, he stopped dead in his tracks. The person was one of the most gorgeous human beings that he had ever seen in his entire life. Plus, as a bonus, he vaguely recognized her as one of those rich influencer girls. What? Owen liked hot women, okay? The richer, the better. Though, she was no Victoria Sinclair. He had overheard that the famous model was in town. If he could bag her, then he'd be set for life. But this girl was an adequate substitute.

It was time for Owen to turn on the charm. "Owen Manning. It's a pleasure to meet you, Emily." He graciously shook her hand, a soft but firm grip. "I'm new to town. That's probably why you haven't seen my handsome face around. But God, I wish I had come here a lot sooner if they've got girls like you here."

wearing: if you ain't with me, motherfucker, you against me
tags: travelbypages travelbypages (Emily)
pantone
®

#665656
Owen Manning


coded by weldherwings.
 
now playing: what u wanna do? - erika de casier

Naomi couldn't stop the blush from finding its way to her cheeks at Julian's compliment. She didn't view herself as being drop dead gorgeous. She wouldn't consider herself to be hot, either, especially since the divorce. Who wanted a divorced woman who'd only ever been with one man before? Not most people, that was for sure. She wordlessly handed Julian her coat, choosing not to address the 'hot' comment.

She perched herself on the edge of his couch at his request. "Make it extra strong, now. It's been a long day." It was a half-joke, of course, but the truth of it was that she was looking to get a little tipsy tonight. A drink or two would certainly take the edge off of her stressful work life. And when her tequila sunrise was handed over to her, she didn't hesitate to take a long sip. "Plans for the new year? Try not to get sacked from my job, for one. Second...I don't know, actually. Maybe I'll try to put myself back out there, get back in the dating game. But probably not. No one wants a has-been. Guys these days just want someone brand new, not used like I am." She fished one of the cherries out of her drink, pulling it off the stem and eating the fruit with a shrug. It was what it was. If things had played out differently, perhaps she wouldn't have gotten married in the first place. But then she wouldn't have ended up here.

"What about you? Got any goals you're itching to meet?"

wearing: got me wired up, so feisty
tags: Lizy Lizy (Julian)
pantone
®

#babbab
Naomi Irwin


coded by weldherwings.
 
Cleo Rivers
Vet
Location
The Vault
"Really Tanner?"
interactions.
C
leo stood in the middle of her bedroom, a whirlwind of dresses and tops discarded on the bed and floor around her. She was attempting to decipher the elusive "club attire" code, something she hadn't put much thought into since her college days. Now, newly relocated to this small town and still finding her social footing, the prospect of a club night felt both exciting and a little daunting. But when her ex-boyfriend and childhood confidant, Tanner, had popped up on her phone, a jolt of anticipation had overridden any lingering hesitation. That initial spark of excitement dimmed slightly as she detected the familiar, telltale slur in his voice – Tanner was clearly already well into his evening. None the less; the fact that he was even vacationing in the same sleepy little town she had impulsively moved to still felt a bit surreal, but she couldn't deny that he was always a catalyst for a good time, or at least a good story. So she was more than glad to entertain whatever it was he wanted with her.

After a brief internal debate, she settled on a classic, body-hugging black dress that she knew would command attention without being overly flashy. Confident in her choice, she slipped it on and paired it with sleek black heels that added a touch of sophistication. A slightly oversized leather jacket completed the look, providing a touch of edgy cool against the inherent sexiness of the dress. As she glanced at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but grin. Tanner wouldn't know what hit him.

Making her way to the club – the only one she knew of in town that was even hosting a New Years Eve event – she scanned the crowd, and it didn't take long to spot him. There he was, leaning against the wall with a drink in hand, predictably surrounded by a group of local girls he was attempting to charm with his signature blend of cheesy pick-up lines and over-the-top gestures.

A scoff escaped her lips as she shook her head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation swirling within her. Honestly, the guy never changed. Resisting the urge to immediately interject, she made a beeline for the bar, sidling up to the counter and catching the bartender's eye.
"Whiskey and Coke, please,"
she said, handing over her card. After a few moments of patient waiting, she accepted her drink with a grateful smile, swirling the ice cubes thoughtfully.

Initially, she had toyed with the idea of simply observing his clumsy attempts at seduction from a safe distance, letting him dig himself into whatever hole he was currently excavating. But the fact that he had specifically called her, despite clearly being in the thick of things, had piqued her curiosity. What exactly did he want?

Deciding to cut the suspense, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and made her way through the crowds toward Tanner and his captivated audience. Offering the girls a friendly, apologetic smile, she cleared her throat, her voice carefully calibrated to carry over the music without being overly aggressive.
"Tanner,"
she said, her tone a delicate balance of firmness and playful sweetness, designed to slice through the noise and immediately command his attention.
"Having fun?"






 
Hollis Warner

T
he night at Peaks and Valleys was alive with electric energy, bass vibrating through the floors, colored lights flickering overhead like a storm on the horizon. Hollis had been caught in the rhythm of the music, her laughter mingling with that of her friends, a constant flow of drinks, and enough dancing to leave her a little dizzy. After hours of keeping the pace, she’d finally slipped away from the group, needing a break as her legs started to ache from dancing the night away.
The bar wasn't exactly a peaceful area, crowded with people reaching for more liquor, but it was a sanctuary in comparison to the chaotic dance floor, and Hollis leaned against it, a momentary reprieve in the buzz of the club. She nursed her drink for a few seconds, watching the bartender skillfully pour shots and mix drinks with practiced ease. The coolness of the glass felt comforting in her palm. She took a sip, savoring the sharpness of the liquor as it slid down her throat. But even with a moment to herself, her mind couldn’t stay still for long. Her gaze wandered across the crowd, lazily scanning until her eyes landed on a familiar face.
There, standing near the edge of the crowd, was Raven—one of those girls who seemed to command attention without even trying. Her brightly colored hair always caught her attention, even now, it shimmered in the glow of the neon lights, and those eyes, always full of mischief, just the same as hers, locked onto Hollis's with an unmistakable spark. Hollis felt the familiar tug in her chest. She had been flirting with Raven since Christmas, testing the waters, letting the moments hang in the air, light and teasing. It was almost too easy, the way Raven’s energy matched her own and made the time pass by faster the more they stole moments together.
A sly grin played at the corner of her lips. She threw back her drink, setting it down on the bar counter, and pushed her way through the crowd, moving toward Raven with a purposeful stride, her hips swaying with the kind of confidence that said she was on the prowl.
When she reached the bar next to Raven, she made a show of looking her over, taking in her curves and clothes all over again. The coyness in her expression deepened, and without a hint of hesitation, she called out, her voice sweet with playfulness,
"Well, well, well…fancy seeing you here, Ray Ray"
She waggled her eyebrows and grinned at her as her eyes sparkled with mischievous intent, and she leaned a little closer.
"I was wondering how long it'd be till I saw you here. This is your scene, after all.
She put up a mock pout, fluttering her lashes at the other girl.
"Don't tell me you've been avoiding me on purpose? Scared of losing our bet and succumbing to all my womanly wiles?"



outfit:
location:
The Vault

tags:
 



Jackson Linchette





































  • mood



    Trying to settle down for once, intrigued.
















Jackson found himself standing.. unexpectedly at the entrance of the Vault, contemplating a whirlwind of confusion.. and uncertainty as to why he decided on this of all things. As he took in the scene before him, a potent mix of different kinds of emotions swirled inside of him, making his mind foggy and his stomach churn. Despite his innate aversion to social gatherings, a rarely ignited spark of impulsivity had urged him to attend a party as the New Years approached. He had convinced himself that branching out and embracing new experiences was vital for personal growth.. very.. new experiences.

Perhaps a New Years resolution he was trying to enact a little early..?

Yet, now as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him.. people barging into the party with reckless abandon.. he struggled to shake off the disbelief that such an evening was happening under his own free use of his will..

He was dressed in an outfit meant for a more formal setting, making him feel like an ill-fitting piece in the rather.. half-hazard design of the night. Around him, guests flaunted their casual outfits..sparkly dresses.. button up shirts with rolled sleeves..

The atmosphere elicited a grimace the curled his lips downward, each smile and cheer.. a reminder of his divergence from this exuberant tableau.

Navigating through the body-crammed space felt torturous, like wading through a sea of sharks, one wrong move and he’s probably get an elbow to the face… people surging past him with little regard for his presence.

Desperate to brush off this rowdy atmosphere and loosen up a bit, he made his way through the throng to the bar, which was just as crowded, but provided some semblance of solace… alcohol, something he rarely indulged it, but for once he felt like he needed it.

The bar was a focal point of the evening, buzzed with different kinds of animated conversations.. some patrons looked angry.. while others waved their arms in exaggerated joy, most were drunk.. either way it was a cacophony of sounds and sights that only amplified his discomfort.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the bartender finally slid a cocktail towards him.. not what he ordered, but whatever.. it was a vibrant concoction adorned with colorful garnishes.. it’s flamboyant presentation was starkly at odds with Jacksons unease. He glanced up for a moment in uncertainty towards the bartender, earning a small wink.. was the drink intentional..?

He felt a small shudder run up his spine, prompting him to divert his attention and presence elsewhere..

He took a tentative sip from the drink, and a slight wince escaped him as the flavor bursts onto his tongue, something he wasn’t accustomed to.. it was a strange mix of bitter and sweet, which only added to his deep sense of dislocation.

It tasted like the party itself.. chaotic… and deeply unsettling.

He scanned the crowd, laughter erupting around him, flirtations swelling amongst pairs.. but it was the man who stood with indifference to the throng of women approaching him that drew Jacksons attention. A faint scoff of amusement escaped his lips as he watched the mans unfazed demeanor, he didn’t give two shits about these women, and it was entertaining.

Soon enough, he resigned himself to solitude, a corner in the shadows that offered some sort of peace, somewhere where not anyone was lounging around. He continued to sip from his drink, a quiet observer of the evening until he noticed the same man again, standing close.. yet separate, engrossed in what looked like urgent work on his phone, especially how he kept getting a constant annoyed expression on his face, before fishing for his phone in his pocket.

Jackson felt a twinge of recognition in the mans focused intensity, and the tendrils of nervousness that initially gripped him began to finally loosen their hold.. replaced with a curious giddiness.. the cocktail..? Probably.

He watched as the man furiously typed on his phone, a reminder of his own work-driven life.. and right now was the one time Jackson was free from the grasp of it, not looking at his phone once.

Jackson couldn’t help but keep an eye on the man.. his gaze drifting restlessly, as if the noise and chaos around him couldn’t quite mask the undercurrent of longing and isolation he felt.

He placed his beverage aside, shifting his weight and leaning forward in his seat, trying to bridge the distance of the room with an unexpected burst of audacity… “Party kinda boring.. isn’t it..?” he said, his tone rising slightly above the cacophony of chatter and the rhythmic bass pulsing through the air.
His words felt spontaneous and liberating.. as if Jackson had been waiting to engage with this man.. when it wasn’t like that at all.. was the guy interesting..? Sure, but Jackson could never admit that.

There was an undeniable..allure about him, but it was wrapped in an aura of indifference..the guy flicked away flirtatious glances much like someone might brush off a bothersome fly. It echoed Jackson's own internal confusion about the point of attending a social affair designed for hooking up with random people.. engaging with them cause you knew you’d never see them again.. yet here they both were.

Though there had been no explicit intention on Jackson’s part to draw the man into a conversation, the alcohol coursing through him melted away his usual reservations, and a twinge of desperation beckoned him forward… “And plus..” he continued, his inclination to offer unsolicited conversation spurred on by cocktail he didn't even want in the first place.. “it kind of looks like you shouldn’t even be here.” His eyes landed on the man’s phone, which buzzed incessantly with a flurry of urgent notifications..

A twinge of sympathy flickered in Jackson’s gaze as he recognized that burden worn all too well. Relentless demands echoed in his own mind, his phone was put on silent before he even entered the party.. new year.. new me.. he reminded himself, yet it was futile; once this was all over, he’d be back in the confines of his job.

Jackson's posture straightened as he continued to observe the man, a reflection of his own tendency to maintain a composed and polished demeanor.. even at a party.. even with alcohol in his system.

































How Soon Is Now?



The Smiths










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Hades Hawthorne
Astrologist
Location
Snow Tunnels
"I hope she loves this"
interactions.
T
he news of Hanna's impending visa expiration had set Hades mind into motion, a flurry of activity masking the unfamiliar anxiety churning within him. He couldn't bear the thought of her leaving, or the easy laughter and comfortable silences that would vanish with her departure. Despite the casual nature of their "friends with benefits" arrangement, he had always seen her as something more, someone he genuinely cherished and found joy in having by his side. She brought a light into his life he hadn't realized was missing, her presence a balm to the loneliness he'd grown accustomed to over the years.

Driven by this newfound clarity, he bypassed his usual hesitation and took decisive action. He visited the only jeweler in town he trusted, an old family friend named Marcus who had crafted exquisite pieces for generations. Hades spent hours pouring over designs, carefully selecting each element to create a ring that he felt captured Hanna's unique spirit. He finally settled on a breathtaking design: a delicate yellow gold band showcasing a magnificent round amethyst, its deep purple hue reminiscent of her favorite twilight skies. The amethyst was encircled by a halo of smaller, sparkling diamonds, each catching the light and adding to the ring's ethereal glow. More diamonds, meticulously set, trailed down the band itself, creating a river of brilliance. He then arranged for expedited shipping, impatient to secure this symbol of his intentions.

Simultaneously, he enlisted the help of a friend, to transform his bachelor pad into a space worthy of a proposal. Knowing Hanna's love for all things purple, they created a stunning flower wall as the centerpiece. A tapestry of purple roses, delicate lilacs, and charming violets cascaded down, creating a fragrant and visually striking backdrop. Woven into this floral masterpiece, using the star-like blooms of Asters and elegant white roses, was the heartfelt question:
"Will You Marry Me?"
In addition to the flower wall, they subtly incorporated other elements he knew Hanna would appreciate - soft, warm lighting and a playlist of songs that held special meaning for them both. The table set for an intimate dinner was complete with candles and fine china he'd inherited from his grandmother.

But for now, secrecy was paramount. He needed to keep Hanna blissfully unaware of his grand plan, and that meant finding a way to keep her occupied. While romantic gestures weren't exactly his forte, Hades knew Hanna adored adventure. So, he proposed a trip through the intricate network of snow tunnels in town, a destination he knew would captivate her for as long as he needed.

He suggested she "dress nicely," a carefully chosen phrase meant to convey the importance of the outing without revealing his true intentions. In truth, he knew that Hanna could make anything look stunning. Her beauty was undeniable, radiating from within and captivating everyone she encountered. He still remembered the night they matched on Tinder, surprised to find such a vibrant spirit lurking on the same dating app he occasionally used out of boredom. Her profile picture, a simple shot of her with a big, radiant smile that reached all the way to her eyes, had instantly drawn him in, and their first conversation had flowed effortlessly, filled with witty banter and unexpected depth.

Hades, too, made an effort to dress his best (not over-styled), carefully selecting an outfit that was both stylish and practical for exploring the icy depths of the tunnels. He opted for a sleek black semi-turtleneck sweater that accentuated his strong jawline, its dark color a stark contrast to the snow-covered landscape. Over it, he wore a fitted, almost black, dress trench coat that added an air of sophisticated mystery. The coat provided ample warmth while maintaining a refined silhouette. He completed the look with dark jeans and sturdy, waterproof boots.

As he stood by the man-made entrance to one of the tunnel systems, the crisp mountain air nipping at his exposed skin, he waited with barely contained impatience. The entrance was marked by two towering ice sculptures, their crystalline surfaces catching the weak winter sunlight and casting prismatic reflections across the snow. He rubbed his hands together every few minutes, partly to ward off the cold and partly to dispel the nervous energy that coursed through him. He blew warm air onto his numb fingers, trying to ignore the frantic beat of his heart.

His mind raced with possibilities. What if she said no? What if she didn't see him the same way? What if this ruined the easy companionship they'd built? He never imagined finding someone he connected with on Tinder. But then he thought of her smile, the same radiant smile that had captivated him from her profile picture, of the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions, of the quiet moments they'd shared that felt like so much more than just a casual arrangement. This was it. The first step in a plan that could either change everything for the better, or shatter the comfortable reality they had built.

As he waited, he rehearsed what he wanted to say in his head, though he knew that when the moment came, all his carefully prepared words would likely desert him. All he could do now was wait, and hope that Hanna would say yes, that she would choose to stay, not just in the country, but in his life, permanently. He pulled out his phone to check for text to see if she was on her way, as he did the ring app alerted him that it was being delivered to his door step, that for now added some more comfort to the situation. He put his phone away and glanced down the street to see Hanna, a smile was already on her face as she was walking to him. Seeing her, her smile, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen made him forget the nervousness that had been building up a moment before. He loved that smile and wanted to be the one to see it everyday for the rest of his life.
"Hey"
he said as he met her half way, and in doing so moved a strand of hair away from her face to see her beautiful smile better.





 



Finn Erickson





































  • mood



    Annoyed.
















Finn always found himself crashing local parties, not because he was particularly social, but because he had nowhere else to go..

His brother? Never bothered to show up, opting instead to sulk at home and watch the ball drop alone... But tonight, Finn was far too restless for that kind of isolation; he couldn't just sit back like some sad sack...
He craved a distraction, something..no, someone..to pull his mind away from Calla, who had wormed her way into his thoughts and refused to leave ever since their last encounter.

It was infuriating; he had always prided himself on being unbreakable, yet here he was, feeling like a damn fool for walking away from her...
The memory of their last conversation played on a loop in his mind, each replay more torturous than the last... He could still hear her laughter, her accent.. everything about her.. more specifically on the way she could so easily stand up to him.

It was a decision he reluctantly regretted more with each passing hour, and now, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, he felt the weight of that choice pressing down on him.

Now, with a slight buzz coursing through him, he felt overstimulated, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. The alcohol was making him feel woozy and reckless, and as usual, he found himself in the company of a woman who had approached him first...

How could he say no..?

But as she rambled on, he realized he was utterly disinterested, mindlessly sipping his drink while she droned on, completely oblivious to his lack of engagement... Was she really that dense?..

It was maddening, especially since his thoughts were consumed by someone else entirely...
Shifting in his seat, he scanned the bar for something..anything..more captivating, but nothing caught his eye until he spotted a familiar figure under the harsh lights...
A shorter girl with blonde hair, and for a moment, he thought he was losing it; surely it couldn't be Calla.

The alcohol was getting to him.

But as she turned slightly, he recognized her instantly, and it struck him like a punch to the gut..

What the hell was she doing here?

Finn was beyond irritated, and Calla’s mere presence was the damn fuel to that fire.

Just seeing her brought a rush of feelings he desperately tried to keep buried beneath his thick, tough facade.
That was the exact reason he hadn’t reached out to her.. every time she showed up, she cracked open those emotions he worked tirelessly to suppress, feelings he had fought tooth and nail to suppress.. and it infuriated him..

If only he could keep that wall standing strong..if only he could ignore the way her laughter sent a thrill through him, or how that sly smile tugging at her lips made his heart feel unsteady...
The annoyance in him twisted with a hint of amusement as he spotted her..

.. all alone..

Good, he thought, a part of him relishing the idea that she felt as isolated as he did, even in a room full of people.

It was a fleeting, selfish gratification, and he couldn’t help but wish it burned her, just a little.
After all, why would she even be at this party if she didn’t hate being alone? Perhaps she was just like him..desperate to drown out her thoughts.

The tequila coursing through his veins made him feel a bit lighter..allowed him to see the absurdity in that notion and a smirk crept onto his otherwise stoic face as he leaned in closer to the girl beside him, hoping Calla would catch a glimpse of him enjoying himself..he didn’t even register the girl’s words..

But then he stole a glance at Calla again, and his world tilted. She was now tangled up with some dude..

..laughing too easily, her body leaning into his far too comfortably..

And it only took a split second for that reality to hit him like a punch to the gut.. she was no longer alone.

The sight of her seemingly enjoying herself with someone else ignited a fire in him he didn’t want to acknowledge..
Without a second thought, he yanked himself away from the girl he was with, not caring in the slightest about her confused expression or her mumbled protest as he stormed off.

His eyes locked in on the pair, narrowing at the way the guy leaned closer to Calla, whispering something that made her laugh..
Finn’s grip on his drink tightened like a vice, the glass almost cracking under the pressure of his fingers.

What the fuck.

The thought echoed in his mind, and he could feel a strange tension coiling within him, a wave of confusion and jealousy crashing over him.

..Jealousy? Him? For fucks sake, ridiculous.

It was a feeling he had never experienced before, and it left him feeling vulnerable and irritated.
He needed to see more, to understand what the hell was happening, so he barely glanced at the woman he was with before downing the rest of his drink and slamming it onto the table.

He pushed his way through the crowd, not caring who he bumped into, his eyes locked on Calla and this.. mystery man.
Finn’s heart raced as he watched the guy get a little too familiar, his hand brushing against Calla’s arm, and that was it..something inside him snapped.

Finn was never the kind of guy to let his temper dictate his moves, at least not usually, but this situation was a whole different ballgame.

He needed to play it cool.. he scanned the packed room before swiping someone’s drink without a second thought, earning a curse and a half-hearted shove that barely registered in his mind.

Striding right up to Calla and this dude who was honestly nothing to write home about, Finn couldn’t help but think that Calla could do way better.
Even with the annoyance and disdain he felt for her, he knew this guy was a total mismatch, and while that didn’t make Finn any more deserving of her, it still irked him.

So..

he pretended to trip...

sending the drink splattering all over the guy’s shirt...

With a faux-innocent look, he raised his hands, “Oh shit, my bad, man…” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he feigned concern for the guy’s pristine white shirt...
“Better go get that changed…” he added, a glint of mischief in his eyes, feeling a little too pleased with himself thanks to the booze.

But maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew, because the guy shoved him back, all riled up.

“Watch where you’re going, punk! Get your drunk ass out of here!” ..the dude barked, finger jabbing at Finn like he was some kind of schoolyard bully.. it was comical really..

Finn’s temper flared back up, especially with Calla watching, and he shot back, “Accidents happen… what the hell is your problem?” ..

Just as he was about to escalate things, a fist came flying at his face, knocking him off balance as he clutched his jaw in shock... “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed, quickly regaining his stance, ready to throw down, but then he spotted a bouncer making his way over.

The guy shot Finn a death glare before muttering, “Fuck this,” and spitting at him as he stormed off.
“Punk ass…” Finn muttered under his breath, straightening himself out and rubbing his jaw..

Finn lingered there for a beat, letting the sting of the punch and the absurdity of the whole mess wash over him.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the haze of booze.. and finally turned to Calla, his voice dripping with sarcasm... "You really need to rethink your taste in guys.. that dude was a total douche.. not to mention a weirdo.." He crossed his arms, swaying slightly as the alcohol wobbled his balance, his eyes darting anywhere but at Calla..

The irony of the moment wasn’t lost on him..

here he was, lecturing her about better choices in men when he was just as much of a disaster, especially considering how he’d treated her in the past.
But hell, he couldn’t just stand by while that loser got all touchy-feely with her.. it made his skin crawl, even if he was no saint himself.

The memory of their last argument flashed through his mind, a painful reminder of the words he’d thrown at her in anger...
He had no right to judge her choices.

































Champagne Coast



Blood Orange










♡coded by uxie♡
 
Ophelia Devereux

T
he pulsating beats of the nightclub filled Ophelia’s chest, the music vibrating through her bones with a constant hum. She was used to crowds, or at least used to big events like this, so she didn’t exactly feel out of place in the moment. But that didn’t mean she ever really enjoyed going out to places like this. She wasn’t exactly an indoors person, she just preferred the comfort of a smaller party with close friends to the bumping chaos of a nightclub, if she had a choice. Still, she’d come tonight with a purpose.
She was here to bond with her co-stars, Cameron and Gabe.
The three of them had been talking for days about the event at The Vault for New Year’s Eve, and eventually came to the conclusion that, since they were all in a city none of them (other than Gabe) knew too well, spending the holiday together would be a good opportunity to build a real connection.
It wasn’t a bad idea—Ophelia was excited to have the chance to break the ice before their grueling work schedule started. So, she’d treated herself to a little shopping spree beforehand, picking out a new dress for the occasion, disregarding her closet full of stunning options. After all, she wanted to make a lasting impression.
They'd arrived a few hours ago and were already settled in at a table set up close to the dance floor in case any of them got the urge to slip out and expend some of their energy that way. Ophelia wasn't exactly planning of going out there but it was nice to be close so she could keep an eye on them.
She glanced at the table where a box of expensive chocolates sat, almost completely demolished. She had thought the gesture would be simple—something small to break the ice, a sweet treat to share with her co-stars as they relaxed and got to know one another better. They’d be working intimately for months, so it only made sense in her mind to try to cultivate a strong foundation now. She had hoped the night would be about genuine bonding, but as the evening wore on, she found herself slipping more and more into her familiar role of the responsible one—talking about script revisions, production schedules, and how the shooting locations were shaping up. Every time she found herself veering into work talk, Cam and Gabe had to gently steer her back to lighter, personal topics. She didn’t mean to be so serious, but it seemed like her default was always business.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to bond with them, it was the opposite, really. She did want to connect. It had just been awhile since she worked with actors her own age and so she kept coming off as stiff.
Ugh.
She wasn't supposed to be like this, she was an actress dammit, with awards and everything to prove it.
Pouting slightly to herself, Ophelia set her champagne flute down on the table and looked up at her co-workers, determined to try her hand at casual conversation again. No way was she going to let herself look awkward around her juniors. She needed to set a good example, to show them that they could come to her with confidence, especially when it came to things that weren’t work-related.
But as she set the glass down, and looked up at the two she noticed something. Cameron looked a bit more flushed than she had when they first arrived, her cheeks flushed a bright pink. And was Gabe swaying? No, he definitely was. She blinked, raising an eyebrow. Had they been drinking more than she realized?
"Uhm...Are you two feeling quite alright?"



outfit:
location:
The Vault

tags:
Cam vixe vixe Gabe Lizy Lizy
 
Wasted.
Tanner Collins
Tanner was absolutely WASTED, no other way to put it, just completely off the rails.

He had thrown himself headfirst into one of the wildest bashes of the year, the New Year’s Eve extravaganza that everyone and their friends flocked to, and why wouldn’t he?
The bigger the crowd, the more exhilarating the chaos, and oh boy, the booze flowed like a river, not to mention the eye-catching ladies that surrounded him.

He had been weaving through the throng for what felt like ages, flirting and exchanging playful touches with a variety of women, but nothing too serious..

Then, in a moment of tipsy nostalgia, he had dialed up Cleo, his ex, and started rambling about the most nonsensical things, getting all emotional and mushy..classic emotional drunk behavior, especially when it came to people he had a history with.
It was like he had flipped a switch; sober Tanner was nowhere to be found.

With a drink clutched in his hand, he staggered around the club, a lady tucked under his arm, making his way to the lounge area where a multitude of couches beckoned him.
He flopped down on one of those couches, and soon enough, more women gravitated toward him, recognizing the infamous Tanner Collins, the face behind a slew of fragrance ads.

Most of them were clearly after his wallet, but did he give a damn?..

Not in the slightest.

They were his source of entertainment, and he was more than happy to keep the drinks flowing in exchange for their company.
He took a hearty swig from his glass, when suddenly, a voice cut through the haze..Cleo.

His head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, his words tumbling out in a drunken slur, “W-what the hell…?” As his vision cleared, he finally recognized her, “Cleo…?” he managed to say, his tone a mix of surprise and amusement, giggling like a fool.

“What the hell are you doing here…?” he slurred, his words a jumbled mess.
His voice was sweet and playful, disarming the women around him as he attempted to rise, only to stumble and clutch his head in confusion..
“Have a drink… here…” he mumbled, fumbling around for a glass, finally lifting one up to her, only to realize she was already holding drinks of her own. “Someone came prepared.." he mumbled out with a sloppy grin.. looking back up to her.

Cleo stood there, a vision in a shimmering dress that hugged her curves just right, her hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of silk. She looked both amused and slightly exasperated.. before shaking his head..

He chuckled.. and gestured grandly with his drink, nearly spilling it in the process... “Just living my best life, you know?.. New Year, new me!” He attempted a wink, but it came off more like a blink..

“You should join me! We can reminisce about old times, like that time we got lost in the city and ended up at that weird taco truck at three in the morning.”

"mm..they were life-changing tacos..”
Tanner added, waving his drink for emphasis... clearly not in the right mind..

Tanner took another swig of his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling the warmth of the alcohol coursing through him...
"So, uh, what brings you here, huh?" he slurred, a small burp escaping him as he eyed Cleo from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long because.. damn.. she looked amazing.

A goofy grin spread across his face, a mix of admiration and tipsy affection. "You come to, like, lecture... me or ...something? Same old story, right?" he mumbled, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"Did my shitty ass parents send you..??" His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and he was clearly not thinking straight..Cleo didn't even like his parents, and they didn't like her..

"Fuck them... and, uh, fuck you too! HAHA!" he burst out, laughter spilling from his lips, making his head spin.. though he didn’t really mean it, well, maybe a little about his parents, but definitely not about her..
He downed the last of his drink and tossed it aside, feeling the world spin just a tad more.

"Seriously though," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "you look amazing. Like, did you just step out of a magazine or something? I mean, wow." He gestured vaguely with his hands, trying to articulate the compliment but failing miserably as his coordination slipped further away.

"I’m just... I’m just a mess over here, and you’re all... put together. It’s not fair!" He chuckled again, the sound slightly more unhinged than before, and ran a hand through his tousled hair, which only made it look more disheveled.

"BUTTT.!!" He burts out, before composing his tone.. "But..i'm living my best life! You know, the whole ‘carpe diem’ thing. Seize the day, right? Or, like, seize the drink!" He raised an imaginary glass in a toast, his grin widening as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table.

"But really, what’s life without a little fun? Who needs responsibilities when you can just... party?" His laughter echoed.. drawing a few glances from nearby patrons..
Tanner didn’t care.. he was in his own world, a bubble of tipsy bravado and fleeting joy. But beneath the surface, a flicker of vulnerability danced in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding that he was too inebriated to articulate.



coded by reveriee.
 
Bewildered
Teddy Benson
Teddy had just finished slicing up a colorful array of fruit, creating a spread for him and his mom to ring in the New Year together...

He popped a piece of juicy fruit into his mouth, glancing over at his mom with a curious expression... "Is pineapple even in season right now..?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
His mom shrugged playfully, a twinkle in her eye as she replied, "I just chose the one that looked the most golden," while affectionately ruffling his tousled brown hair and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.. a soft laugh escaping her.

Teddy was undeniably a mama's boy, having never forged a strong bond with his father, who was often absent.. a fact that weighed heavily on Teddys mind, but stuck it out for his mom.

"Ta-da! Our fruit salad is officially complete!" Teddy exclaimed, a proud smile lighting up his face as he added the final pieces with a flourish.
His mother surveyed their table, laden with an assortment of treats, and remarked, "Perfect timing!.. Everything should be ready now." Teddy couldn't help but tease, "Didn't.. we go a little overboard for just the two of us..?" as he eagerly piled goodies onto his plate.

His mother raised an eyebrow, about to share a thought, but before she could, the doorbell rang, interrupting the moment...
"Are we expecting anyone?" Teddy asked, moving toward the door, while his mom shrugged, a knowing sparkle in her eyes.

The doorbell chimed again, prompting a sigh from him. "Coming!" he called out, unlocking the door and swinging it open to reveal Sloane...
Teddy's heart felt like it had just leaped out of his chest, his jaw nearly dropping in disbelief. "S-sloane?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, utterly shocked by her unexpected arrival.

Before he could gather his thoughts, his mother breezed past him, exclaiming, "Sloane! Come in, darling! It's freezing out here!.." She ushered Sloane inside with a warm laugh, giving Teddy a quick.. knowing look.
Teddy leaned against the door, slowly closing it as he watched his mother warmly engage with Sloane.

Memories flooded back, reminding him of the unresolved tension between them from years ago when Sloane had left to chase her dreams, leading to a heated argument that had left their friendship hanging by a thread.

He had always admired her ambition.. her drive.. but her leaving so suddenly had left a void in his life that he had never quite filled.

Now, standing in the doorway, he felt all those emotions rushing back at once as he watched the two women exchange pleasantries.

He even caught a whiff of her perfume..a sweet, floral scent that brought back memories of their childhood..
They had spent countless summers together, laughing and playing, but those days felt like a lifetime ago..





coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
crushin

location :
the vault
outfit :
mentions :
n/a

interactions :
blair celestialbody celestialbody
McKay
;; Soren
Nervousness had crept into Soren's veins in the hours leading up to his plans with Blair. But, the second he slid into the passenger seat next to the man, most of his nerves eased up, being replaced with a sense of joy that was unmatched. He thought about whether or not to sit up front when Blair picked him up for a long time, but he had decided to give it a go after thinking it over and figuring it would be odd to sit in the back like Blair was an Uber driver.

To his surprise, after his usual glimpse at the door locks to make sure he wasn’t stuck, he didn’t think about it again. It felt right to him. Maybe he could be normal about this. Well, as normal as he could be when he found himself blushing or tripping over his words every five seconds. But somehow, he wasn’t completely filled with dread at the prospect of making a fool of himself. His mind was too busy being excited about spending time with Blair.

Conversation flowed better than the last couple times they met. The much lighter circumstances of this meeting made the energy in the car more fun and exciting than before. It made Soren's heart race, but in a way he didn't entirely object to. They chatted, Blair showed Soren a photo of his adorable cat- but Soren secretly found the proud smile on the man's face as he showed off the picture even more adorable.

When they arrived at the nightclub and parked, Soren giggled to himself as Blair sped to open the passenger door for him. His stomach turned. He was such a gentleman, it was almost unfair that they had to meet at this point in Soren's life. Soren shook those thoughts away though, determined to just have a fun time for once.

He stepped out of the car, shooting Blair a warm smile as he did so. "Yeah!" He declared enthusiastically. "I've been practicing my moves, so I may not be as good as you, but at least I won't be a disaster." He blushed slightly at the admission that he spent time beforehand practicing. He began to walk towards the club, staying next to Blair.

Soren wasn't usually one to get excited about things, but Blair's energy was infectious and he found his heart racing with way more excitement than usual. They waited in the line for the club for a bit, continuing their casual banter. Soren fell quiet for a few moments as they entered the club. From him, that wasn't an unhappy reaction, it was just processing and adjusting to the crowds, bright lights, and sounds. Looking at the clump of people on the dance floor, he knew he'd need at least a few moments of getting used to everything before going anywhere near that.

With just Blair by his side, he felt a bit more conscious of how he stopped chatting and tensed up slightly. Back home when he did these things he usually found himself with larger groups of people. People who did not notice nor care how he reacted to things. Soren allowed himself to further take in the room, eyes wandering around, before looking back to Blair, breaking into a grin as he met his eyes. "This is really nice. Should we grab a drink first, maybe? Not like- a drink drink... I know your last time drinking wasn't great..." Soren laughed softly, hoping that he didn't sound mean, he truly just meant to be considerate. "Like, we could grab sodas or something?"
coded by reveriee.
 









Luca was in his element. The bass was thumping, the alcohol flowing. Girls danced in groups, rubbing their sweaty bodies all over each other. It was a sight to behold, Luca really was in heaven. Maybe moving to the nothing town of Revelstoke would be good for him. He could start a great hotel from the ground up, finally a make a name for himself. Maybe, just maybe it was time for him to man up and start taking life by the horns like his father keeps telling him.

Screw that. Why would he do that when he was living the life? Sweaty bodies pressed up against each other as he leaned against the bar, eyes blurring around the edges from the copious amounts of liquor in his system. This is what he was meant for.

Luca threw back the rest of his glass and slid it to the edge of the bar. The bartender was running around like a chicken with its head cute off but somehow, she looked cool calm and collected.

Luca waited, his body swaying a little. His eyes scanned the room, there must’ve been at least 200 hundred people just on the dance floor alone but nobody caught his eye.

“What can I get for you, doll?” The bartender, slung a towel over her shoulder.

“Can I get uh—“ his gaze is ripped away to a petite blonde, the first interesting person here. There’s a man leering over her, practically slobbering over himself.

“One second.” He pushed himself away the bar, striding over to the disturbing scene. He put himself right in the middle of the two.

“Hey man, what’s going on here?” He folds his arms across his chest, flexing his muscles.

“Dude, you don’t look so good. Maybe you should, like, go sit down or something.” Luca’s obviously the taller one so, he takes a step, pushing the guy away from the blonde. The guy is beyond wasted to the point that he just turns and disappears into the crowd. Luca turns to the woman.

“You don’t have to thank me. You need anything? A drink?” He gave her his famous dazzling smile.









Apathetic



Luca













♡coded by uxie♡

Click the name!
 
Honey Potts

H
oney was in her element tonight. She’d started the evening at Peaks and Valleys, the strip club where she worked, the familiar rhythm of the stage and the heat of the spotlight fueling her every movement. But when the club closed early for the owner’s exclusive New Year’s Eve party at The Vault, she’d switched venues eager to get her party on and dance the night away, well she did that most nights, but tonight it wouldn't be on a pole! It was always a thrill either way though, whether at work or somewhere new she had a way of pulling people in and gravitating eyes and attention her way.
Honey had even gotten her hands on a bottle of Pink Noir Bottega that her boss, Eve, had ordered specifically for her. She drank it straight from the bottle, savoring the smooth, sweet taste of the bubbly liquid as she moved through the crowd.
The club was packed—people swaying and grinding to the beat, lost in the chaos of the celebration. Honey was used to the hustle and bustle, effortlessly weaving through the crowd like she was born for it. It wasn’t until someone bumped into her while turning a corner that her groove was thrown off balance. It wasn’t unusual; in a place this packed, people were always jostling against one another. She didn’t think twice, brushing it off with a quick step back to regain her balance. But when her eyes met the person who had collided with her, everything stopped.
Kara.
Her old best friend from high school. The girl who had once been her partner in crime. The girl who had disappeared without a trace when Honey least expected it. Not a call, not a word—just silence. And now, here she was, standing right in front of her, like no time had passed. Kara hadn’t even bothered to reach out.
"Well, well, well,"
Honey’s voice still had the same honeyed silkiness it usually exuded but was clearly tinged with a hint of rising irritation as she looked Kara over. She took another swig of the champagne, letting the alcohol settle on her tongue before she continued, her eyes narrowing.
"Look who finally decides to show up after disappearing off the face of the earth. You sure know how to leave someone hanging, don’t you?"

She tilted her head, raising a brow at her as she pushed the words out, trying to not let herself get too irritated.
"You look good...you come back to town for a little New Years visit Kara?"



outfit:
location:
The Vault

tags:
Kara CozyGamer CozyGamer [/USER]
 
mood :
not fashionable

location :
clothing store
outfit :
mentions :
n/a

interactions :
Chani celestialbody celestialbody
Warren
;; Paul
Paul was about to take the suit off the rack and go check out when he felt a quick slap on his arm. "Ouch," he muttered quietly, pulling back his hand. He looked at the woman who'd done it, eyebrows wrinkling together in confusion as she spoke. The action was so rude, and the words that came out of her mouth were no better.

He felt like he should be offended, angry even, it was all so harsh. But, for some reason he wasn't upset at all. Shocked? Sure. It was quite jarring to be peacefully shopping one moment and harassed the next. Paul couldn't even speak right away, he just stood there looking at the woman with shock and confusion written all over his face. But, it seemed like insulting him wasn't all she was going to do. She was going to help him.

Paul remained frozen for a moment as she nodded towards another suit and moved towards it. He took a second to get a proper look at the woman, she was striking. Gorgeous, yes, but there was something else about her that made her stand out. She carried herself with an air that was so unapologetic and bold it was hard not to obey her every command.

So, his feet moved, he followed the woman to the blue suit. Though, he wasn't looking at the clothing she was leading him to, he was only really looking at her. "Excuse me, do you work here?" Paul asked, voice laced with an intrigued confusion. There was no way an employee would be as rude as she had been? Was there? Maybe this was one of those newfangled places where being insulted was part of the allure.

Or maybe... she was just someone that wanted to help. That option intrigued Paul the most. The thought that she was disgusted enough with his original choice to hit him and say he'd look like shit, yet still take the time to direct him towards a better option even if she wasn't getting paid was perplexing. This goddess of a woman deciding to spend her time on him made his heart skip a beat, and he was going to make sure her time wasn't wasted, so he was going to listen to every bit of fashion advice she had.
coded by reveriee.
 

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