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

[celestialbody]

Natalia Zamora

A

wave of relief washed over Natalia as Joon confirmed that he wasn’t busy. His suggestion to grab a snack first only added to the sense of ease, and she found herself nodding eagerly, grateful for the option to ease into the conversation. She glanced in the direction of the lodge's little store, its shelves lined with small treats and quirky trinkets, just a short distance away.

"Yeah! Let's do that then,"

she said, her voice brightening as she looked up at him, her smile widening with a mix of excitement showcasing her rising comfortability. She gestured toward the store, her step light as she led the way, eager to pick out something small before diving into the inevitable exchange that had been weighing on her mind.
As she browsed the shelves, she picked out a Snickers bar, though her appetite had already begun to dwindle as the anticipation of the upcoming talk settled heavily in her stomach. The nerves that had briefly been calmed by Joon's easy-going nature were now creeping back, tightening the pit of her stomach as she thought about the conversation they were about to have, but for now she just let herself be in the moment with him. Where he was still his cool and cocky self who made her feel delighted with every encounter shared between them.
She paid for the candy at the counter, feeling more confident than she had in days. She glanced at Joon as he stood beside her, his presence comforting yet still making her feel an uncertain flutter of nerves.
Natalia looked around, eyeing the tables in the attached café. There were places to sit, sure, but the thought of talking in such a public space didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t want anyone overhearing this conversation. Plus she wasn't sure how he'd react to the news she's have to give him. She turned to Joon, her brow furrowing slightly as she weighed her words carefully, the familiar tension creeping back into her chest.

"Would it be okay if we went to one of our rooms to talk?"

she asked, her voice soft but sincere. She took a small step closer to him, her gaze meeting his with a hint of vulnerability.

"I kind of just want it to be you and me,"

she added, her words laced with a quiet plea for privacy and understanding. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly tugged at the edge of his sleeve, her fingers brushing against the fabric in a small gesture of uncertainty.

"We could go to whichever you're more comfortable with?"

she finished, looking up at him with soft eyes hoping he would understand.
She wanted this moment to be theirs, away from the noise and the bustle of the lodge, so she could finally tell him the words that had been bubbling inside her for far too long.

outfit:

location:

Revelstoke Mountain Lodge

tags:

Joon PrincessAveRedfern

 

[PotatochipsRlit]

mood :

Motivated

location :

Redfern Kitchen

outfit :

mentions :

interactions :

PrincessAveRedfern - Kennedy

Mckdowell

Bryson

A soft chuckle escaped Bryson as he processed Kennedy's playful banter, wondering how she could possibly expect him to know the ins and outs of her family's kitchen.
After all, he wasn't exactly the type to snoop around uninvited.

Rather than engaging her further, he simply rolled his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that he had long since given up on combating her teasing. Continuing his morning routine..As he brushed his teeth, the minty flavor of the toothpaste filled his mouth, and with a quick spat into the sink, he followed up with mouthwash, the fresh burst of flavor temporarily invigorating him.

He rinsed his face, splashing cool water over his skin before drying off with a towel, the fabric soft against his still somewhat sleep-tinged eyes. When he glanced back into the mirror, it was then that he caught sight of Kennedy lounging in the doorway to the bathroom, her relaxed pose creating a picture of casual comfort that stood in stark contrast to his frenzied morning routine...

“Look at you! You no longer look like Mr. Grumpy Pants...” she chimed, her voice teasing, accompanied by a playful grin.

Another eye roll was Bryson's only response at first, but he couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips for long... "You know, for it being Christmas, I’d think you’d at least give me a break from the teasing,” ..he quipped back, his feigned frustration quickly dissolving into mirth.
With a playful flick of the towel aimed her way, he let it drape across his shoulder..
He migrated closer to her, leaning comfortably against the doorframe and peering down at her with an exaggerated air of seriousness... "Did you find everything we needed for the pancakes?" ..he asked, his fingers raking through his tousled hair in an absent-minded attempt to tame the wildness that seemed to echo the chaotic jumble of thoughts racing through him..thoughts that included an overdue trip to the barber.

Kennedy launched into a detailed list of every baking ingredient they could possibly need, her words flowing freely and enthusiastically. He nodded along, though it was more detail than he truly needed. Finally, raising a hand, he playfully covered her mouth to silence the endless stream of chatter...
"Okay, Ms. Yapper, I get it. As long as we have everything, that's all that matters.." ..Bryson sighed, before giving her a gentle nudge to get a move on it.. "Let's go.. before i succumb to sleep again." He said as he followed her out and then downstairs into the kitchen..

Kennedy already stepping up to the counter like a seasoned chef preparing for a culinary masterpiece... Bryson watched her for a moment, taking in her effortless grace as she flicked her hair over her shoulder, her brows furrowed with concentration as she pulled out mixing bowls and measuring cups...“Okay, chef, what’s the plan?” he asked, rolling up his sleeves as he pulled the ingredients from the pantry. “I’m more of a sous chef than a master in the kitchen.”

... That was a lie...

coded by reveriee.

 

[Lizy]

mood :

nervous

location :

redfern auto shop

outfit :

mentions :

n/a

interactions :

Anthony PrincessAveRedfern

Sullivan

;; Brittain

The invitation was unexpected, but it warmed Brittain's heart. The way this man wanted to invite her, a complete stranger, in on his holiday fun was so kind. "Really? That sounds so fun," she smiled as she replied. "I wouldn't want to intrude on your family fun. But, if you're sure, I'd love to!"

Brittain glanced down at the bag of jelly beans in her hand as he said that they were on the house. She nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, that's very kind," she accepted the holiday offering without a fight, she was truly grateful for it. "I'll make sure to enjoy them thoroughly." She paused, just now realizing they didn't even know each other's names. "Oh! I'm Brittain, by the way. You can call me Britt if you want to though. Just figured... you might as well know my name if you're going to invite me along on your holidays." She laughed slightly as she continued to walk alongside the man, leaving the shop.

She listened intently as he recounted past holiday traditions. Laughing out loud at a story about a ridiculous Christmas sweater. "That sounds really great. I almost wish I had an ugly Christmas sweater of my own now. I'd love to be able to give everyone a good laugh like that."

They continued walking, sharing about their holidays, and Brittain decided to open up the bag of jelly beans. She figured there was no time but the present to enjoy them. Britain popped a few in her mouth, smiling at the taste. She extended the bag towards the man beside her, offering up the sweet treat. "Want some? They're really good!"

coded by reveriee.

 

[CozyGamer]

scroll

Artist

Kara.

mood

anxious

outfit

imagine your standard travelling outfit. That's it, that's the fit

location

The Lodge (Front Steps --> Lobby --> Penthouse Suite)

interactions

travelbypages Elowen

tags

home sweet home?

Christmas in New York was a big affair. Take one of the biggest travel destinations in the world, and combine it with the fanatical nature of Christmas, and you got a huge city with Christmas decorations and songs on every corner, with people who shed their rough New York attitude to give well-wishes of the holidays to whoever they passed. You couldn’t make it down the block without seeing people engage in some sort of winter activity, whether it was sledding, skating, or simply grabbing a hot chocolate from a nearby cafe.

At least New York and Revelstoke have that in common,

Kara thought as she wrestled her suitcases out of the trunk of her Uber. Bags on the sidewalk around her, she pulled out her phone to add to the driver's tip as she looked up at the massive building she hadn’t seen in years.

Kara had barely returned to Revelstoke since she had first moved to New York to pursue her art degree - each time she had, the immediate suffocation of being back within earshot of her parents and their comments pushed her further away. Instead, she used work placements (real or imagined) to explain why she needed to stay in New York each summer, and Christmas quickly became a virtual call instead of her travelling back home. Even the calls home stopped after graduation, after the huge fight Kara and her parents had about her future plans.

Now, standing on the steps of the Lodge years later, Kara didn’t feel guilty for the state of her relationship with her parents - they weren’t even in Revelstoke for Christmas, having gotten used to the empty-nester life of traveling and cruises. She did feel guilty, however, for the friendships that she had abandoned once she was free in New York. She had abandoned a lot of people with no notice when she left, people who could very well be walking these streets at any moment. People who she would eventually have to face and be accountable to for never reaching out.

The stress of that accountability maybe happening now shook Kara out of her daze. She fought with her bags - 2 suitcases and a large duffel - as she dragged them up the stairs in a way that she hoped was more sophisticated than what it probably was. Getting the bags along with herself through the doors was also a challenge, but she persisted and ended up in the lobby only slightly out of breath. The lobby was bustling, even for the afternoon of Christmas day, and Kara luckily spotted her uncle through the people milling around almost immediately.

“Kathy! Look at Miss New Yorker over here with all her baggage,”

Marcus Winters, the owner of the Lodge, said loudly in a very bad New York accent as he made his way over to her. Kara cringed internally at the childhood nickname, but put a smile on her face as she hugged her uncle.

“Hey Uncle Marcus, Merry Christmas. Thanks for having me, I appreciate it.”

It came out stilted, but Kara was sincere - when the culmination of her lease ending, her barista job laying her off, and her american visa coming to an end all hit her at the beginning of the month she genuinely hadn’t known what to do. She hadn’t ever planned on moving back to Revelstoke, and especially hadn’t planned on calling her uncle for the first time in 2 years to beg for her old job back, but it had become her only option.

Marcus quickly let her go.

“Merry Christmas, no problem kid. Family and all that, you know? We’re happy to have you back, especially Elowen. We’ll see how long that lasts, though,”

he chuckled as he handed over what Kara assumed was a room key to the penthouse suite her cousin lived in.

“If you get tired of her shit and want your own space, you will have to pay for a room. It’ll be discounted, but still.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, we’ve always gotten along,”

Kara said as she grabbed the keycard. Elowen had bombarded her phone with messages when she’d found out Kara was coming back, demanding that she move into the penthouse suite.

That had to be a sign that she didn’t hate me, right?

“I guess I’ll head on up to see her now,”

Kara said, mostly to herself.

Her uncle nodded, eyes already drifting over to the other guests in the lobby.

“Sounds good, see you later.”

“See you later.”

Kara nodded to herself as he walked off. She fit herself and her bags into the elevator and spun the keycard around in her hand as she rose to the top floor, the anxiety building at the same speed as the elevator. Her and Elowen had gotten along growing up - sure, Kara hadn’t talked to her much in the last few years, like all her other friends, but surely that wouldn’t affect them too much, right?

The elevator dinged, and Kara shuffled herself and her bags out onto the Penthouse floor. Kara soon found herself standing in front of Elowen’s door, unsure of what was the polite thing to do. Should she just let herself into the apartment? Was Elowen even home?

After a moment of feeling ridiculous standing in the hallway by herself, Kara sighed.

I have to get through this one way or another,

she thought as she shoved the keycard in her pocket and knocked on the front door.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[PotatochipsRlit]

Forrest Erickson

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  Curious.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Compression shirt with snowboard pants.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Emaras home/office
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  PrincessAveRedfern - Emara
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Forrest struggled to grasp the meaning behind her words, his mind racing yet clouded with confusion.
He remained silent, a deliberate choice to avoid complicating the already tense atmosphere that hung between them. Emara's voice broke through the silence, revealing that she had mentioned a new job offer in their previous session, but Forrest's memory failed him; he prided himself on his recollection, yet this detail eluded him.

"You never told me anything about it... if you had, things probably would have been..different," he replied, his tone softer than before, a stark contrast to the passive-aggressive demeanor he had displayed upon entering her home uninvited.
The repetition of his name from her lips grated on him, a subtle reminder of his unraveling sanity, and he rubbed his temples in frustration, overwhelmed by the emotions she stirred within him.
As Emara reiterated the boundaries of their relationship, stating,

"You were a patient; I can’t allow it to be anything more,"

Forrest felt a heavy sigh escape him, his eyes fluttering shut as he sought to collect his scattered thoughts... "I know... I know," he murmured, his gaze returning to her, yet the hurt in his eyes betrayed the turmoil within.
He was determined to maintain his composure.. he was not fragile, after all. He had come seeking answers, yet the conversation seemed to drift further from that goal. His attention was drawn to the room she gestured toward, an invitation to discuss matters further, but doubt gnawed at him...would she even share the reasons for her departure?

Reluctantly, he complied, his heavy boots thudding against the floor as he crossed the threshold into the room, taking a seat on the couch.
The scene felt all too familiar, even if it was a completely different space, it was still reminiscent of their past therapy sessions, and a scoff escaped him, a bitter acknowledgment of how far he had fallen.
The couch.. it was always a couch, in which was once a sanctuary of solace and understanding, now felt like a prison of his own making.

He glanced around the room, taking in the decor..the soft, muted colors, the framed certificates on the wall, the small potted plant that had thrived under her care.
Each detail was a reminder of the professional distance she had maintained, a distance he had foolishly hoped to bridge.

Emara settled into the armchair opposite him, her posture poised yet relaxed.. presented a stark contrast to him, exuding an air of calm and ease that seemed almost ethereal.
Her presence was like a gentle breeze on a sweltering day, soothing yet unsettling.. even with their time apart, or the annoyance he felt with her leaving so suddenly..

Despite the subtle rise and fall of her breath betraying her inner turmoil, he found himself unable to maintain eye contact, his gaze drifting away as he made a sweeping gesture, inviting her to break the silence..
He was resolute in his decision not to divulge the intricacies of his own life until she offered some insight into her abrupt exit.
It felt intrusive, yet the weight of all his pent up questions hung heavily in the air, pressing down on him like a physical force.

He could sense the tension radiating from her, and it both intrigued and terrified him...
With a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, "Help me understand," his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of urgency that betrayed his calm facade.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, fingers intertwining in a nervous dance that revealed his growing anxiety.
Each twist and turn of his hands mirrored the turmoil within him, a silent testament to the storm of emotions he was grappling with.
This was a woman who held an odd place in his heart, yet he felt as if she were a stranger, an enigma wrapped in layers he had yet to peel back. The discomfort of that realization gnawed at him, a persistent ache that refused to be ignored..

I'll Look After You

The Fray

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Lizy]

mood :

hungover

location :

bro's house

outfit :

mentions :

n/a

interactions :

gray, travelbypages blair, Esme celestialbody

Holt

;; Julian

Julian took a step back from Blair, releasing him from his hug. He smiled as the man began putting his gifts under the tree. "Go for it, Santa Claus," he chuckled, a slight teasing tone present in his voice. Despite any teasing, Julian was truly grateful for Blair's positive presence. It made him feel less angry at the world, therefore made him less likely to do something stupid and ruin Christmas for everyone.

Actually, he wouldn't hesitate to ruin Christmas, or more specifically- ruin Esme's Christmas, if it wasn't for the kid. He was actually rather fond of his niece, and wanted the best for her. He knew what a messed up childhood was like and wouldn't wish that on anyone. Maisel emerging from the back reminded Julian to try his best and play nice for the holidays.

"Merry Christmas, Maisel," He echoed Blair's greeting. But, as Blair continued to chat about Santa Claus with the kid, Julian's attention was captured by the conversation in the kitchen. He overheard his name coming up in Gray and Esme's tense conversation and inched towards the kitchen, eavesdropping on the rest of it. His ongoing headache was only made worse by how upset this conversation made him, an upset look forming on his face.

The way his brother talked about him made Julian feel guilty, but he really just wished Grayson stopped concerning himself with his business. Gray may have taken care of Julian when he was a kid, but he was an adult now, and he'd chosen his path. If that path led to his undoing, so be it. But what really made his blood boil was Esme. In his eyes, his brother was right. Grayson was just trying his best to hold it all together, as he always did, and she just left. It was fucked up.

Julian was too occupied by eavesdropping on this conversation to join in on anything going on around him. He leaned on the wall next to the kitchen door, out of Grayson and Esme's sight, to be able to hear them better. He looked increasingly troubled as he continued to listen, both the physical pain of his hangover and mental stress of listening to this exchange hitting him. He glanced over at Blair, still talking to Maisel. Good, at least she was distracted.

coded by reveriee.

 

[celestialbody]

Kafuki Riek

P

ulling into Adelaide's driveway, Kafuki carefully parked her car, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. She adjusted her hair slightly and checked her makeup, ensuring it still looked fresh and didn’t appear rushed or smudged from the car ride. Her excitement bubbled up inside her as she prepared to spend the holiday with someone for the first time in a long while.
Kafuki still lived in the same town as her parents, but spending time with them during the holidays often left her feeling drained rather than festive. Their well-meaning attempts to discuss topics that always seemed to push her buttons didn’t help matters. And her youngest brother? He was at an age where spending time with family wasn’t exactly on the top of his to-do list, especially around Christmas. So when Adelaide had extended the invitation to her, she’d jumped at the chance. It was a perfect opportunity to enjoy the holiday with someone who truly understood the meaning of it—and who’d also be spending it alone.
Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she reached over to the passenger seat to grab the small gifts she’d carefully picked out for Adelaide and her niece. Despite Adelaide insisting that gifts weren’t necessary, Kafuki couldn’t help but feel that bringing something would be a gesture of gratitude. It wasn’t about the presents, but rather about showing appreciation for being welcomed into their home. She could already imagine Adelaide brushing it off and saying that just spending time together was gift enough, but Kafuki wanted to make sure she contributed something, especially for her niece.
With a soft exhale, Kafuki grabbed the bags in one arm and approached the front door. As she knocked firmly, the sound echoing lightly in the quiet evening.
When the door opened, light spilling out onto the dark doorstep, Kafuki’s face lit up with a warm smile. Adelaide stood before her, clearly pleased to see her. Kafuki felt a wave of contentment wash over her, knowing that this simple act of sharing the holiday would mean a lot.

"Hey! I made it! Sorry if I'm a bit late, almost got called into the hospital,"

she said, her tone light and apologetic.

"But it turned out to be something small, so I’m here now!"

She gestured with the bags in her arm, giving a sheepish smile. It was the kind of holiday hiccup she had expected, but nothing that would stop her from enjoying the evening with her friend.

outfit:

location:

Adelaide's Home

tags:

Adelaide @faeriehollow

 

[PotatochipsRlit]

Finn Erickson

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  Evasive.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Compression shirt with snowboard pants.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  Outside of the lodge.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  travelbypages - Calla
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Finn’s senses sharpened at the melodic sound of Calla’s laughter, a curious and delightful tune that twirled through the crisp air like a playful breeze.
Was she finding amusement in him, or perhaps in the ludicrousness of her own circumstances? Here she was, boldly approaching a complete stranger..him—and requesting his companionship to the lodge, an act that felt absurd yet irresistibly charming in its audacity.

He shook his head slightly, bemused by the unfolding scenario as he caught the way she brushed aside her own background..again, prompting a subtle eye roll from him as a silent chuckle bubbled beneath the surface..
But as he turned to face her, he noticed a flicker of something more profound in her eyes, a whisper of hidden tales behind her casual comment on..

“Spain is... Spain...”

..suggesting a depth of stories locked away, secrets that she was not yet ready to unveil, which only intensified his curiosity, though he held back the urge to pry further...

"It's... history, culture... also just, home. And home isn't always about beauty. Sometimes... it can be a bit dull,"

she said, her words slightly shaky yet resonating with a poignant truth... Finn found himself entranced by the soothing cadence of her voice, a refreshing change in this moment that welcomed her insight..
He nodded in understanding, appreciating her articulation even when her thoughts felt a touch scattered...
"Home can be... dull... heh... I totally get that," he replied, infusing a blend of dismissiveness and recognition into his tone, tinged with humor.
It struck him as amusing, considering his own disdain for Revelstoke, the very town they were currently in..a place weighed down by his past familial expectations that still pressed heavily on him, evident from the furrow in his brow.

He noted her faint agreement with his sentiments about the town’s lackluster charm, even if she didn't say anything...it was as if she was here for something.. or someone.. not herself.. and a moment of amusement sparked across his features.

"Ah, Calla from Spain... you don't seem too fond of this place either," he teased, nudging her playfully with a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes...

"I guess... you will find something nice here, if you look, yes?"

she offered, her words dripping with optimism. Finn registered her sentiment but remained unmoved by it; he was not one to seek beauty in the mundane. To him, things were as they appeared, and Revelstoke was hardly a sight to behold, especially for someone like him who found solace in solitude rather than in the company of others.
He could see the sincerity in her eyes, the way they sparkled with a hopefulness that contrasted sharply with the gray skies above them. It was as if she was determined to unearth the hidden gems of this place, to find beauty where he had only seen monotony. Finn admired that about her..but it also dumbfounded him.. it was a quality he had long since lost, buried beneath layers of obligation and expectation.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice softer now, almost contemplative... "But sometimes it feels like searching for a needle in a haystack." He gestured vaguely around them, the snow-dusted trees standing sentinel like silent witnesses to his discontent... "Revelstoke has its moments, sure, but they’re often overshadowed by... well, everything else."

And as he glanced aside, he noticed a curious look in her eyes.. one found a bit.. unsettling.. caught off guard by her genuine interest. Most people in his life were content to skim the surface, to nod along without truly engaging. But Calla seemed different, as if she was genuinely invested in understanding him.. he dismissed it.

Finn found himself increasingly uncomfortable with the depth of his own introspection, especially when it came to discussing himself. He had spent years under the weight of his parents' expectations, constantly being compared to his brother, which left him feeling anything but mighty, despite any cocky facade he might project.
As he turned to her, he caught her animatedly discussing the traditional lights that adorned the lamp posts, attempting to convey their beauty, but he remained disinterested, unable to appreciate their charm...

"They are tradition, no? They lift… Spirit. Make people happy," she insisted, her enthusiasm palpable.

Finn raised an eyebrow, shaking his head in skepticism.. "Does Spain decorate... like this?" ..he probed, hoping to shift the focus onto her, his gaze intent as they walked side by side..

"Why you care so much, eh?" she shot back, her tone teasing ..yet with a rough edge.

Just as he was about to formulate a response, she continued..

"Not everyone... not everything need be mystery. People are just people."

Finn's brow furrowed in disbelief; her words seemed to float in the air between them, challenging his understanding of connection.
He chose silence, allowing her to fill the void with her thoughts..

"People think I come here because... I run away from Spain, no? Like I run from or look for something... but it’s not like this. I come here because I need... change. Find who I am."

Her declaration struck a chord within him, resonating with his own struggles. Even at his age, he felt adrift, lost in the tumult of his adolescence, drowning in alcohol and fleeting encounters with women who meant little to him.
He recognized the darkness in his actions and how they shaped others' perceptions of him, which was why he shied away from personal connections.

As he listened, his once predatory gaze softened, the seriousness of the moment weighing heavily on him. He contemplated walking away, overwhelmed by the intimacy of their exchange, yet he found himself drawn back to her..

The way she spoke, with a blend of vulnerability and strength, intrigued him. It was a stark contrast to the bravado he often wore like armor, a mask that shielded him from the world’s scrutiny and his own insecurities.
Finn took a deep breath, the cool evening air filling his lungs, grounding him in the present. He had always been the one to deflect, to keep conversations light and superficial, but something about her openness beckoned him to dive deeper... “Change,” ..he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. “What kind of change are you looking for?”

Finn turned his head slightly, catching the sound of her voice as she continued her spirited monologue..

"People think... Spain is all... sunshine and happy,"

..she declared, her tone laced with an ironic twist that prompted a smirk from him...The way she spoke, with her hands animatedly gesturing, painted a vivid picture of her homeland, yet he could sense the underlying complexity in her words...

"Calla from Spain... Calla the hypocrite," he teased lightly, nudging her playfully..."You say that, yet here you are, trying to convince me of the wonders of Revelstoke,"..he mused, his voice trailing off as he observed the subtle changes in her expression, the way her eyes danced as she sought the right words…

Just as he was poised for her to deliver a witty retort, she deftly passed the baton of conversation back to him... “Ah yes.. I know quite a bit about you now.. Calla.” ..he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious note as he locked his gaze onto her face…
"But why exactly am I in..a cold place like this..?” he echoed her earlier question, pondering it for a moment.. feigning contemplation as he side-glance her curious expression, before shaking his head..

"Perhaps it’s best if I remain the enigma for now," he concluded, raising an eyebrow as he playfully bumped against her…Their banter had consumed the time it took to reach the lodge, and he couldn't help but smirk at the irony of it all.
"There you have it, Calla from Spain, or should I say Calla the hypocrite?" ..he added, glancing sideways to gauge her reaction to the nicknames he had playfully bestowed upon her..

Dismissing her question about the hidden depths of his life, Finn was not one to easily divulge personal things about himself.. "So, I walked you here. What do I get in return, aside from that barrage of chatter?"...he challenged, stepping closer so he could pierce her with his steady gaze..he watched her breath catch in her throat, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips…

How Many Drinks?

Miguel

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[travelbypages]

T’KAYA STONEWATER

T'kaya's grin never faltered as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes still locked on Brandon's with a mischievous glint. She appreciated the honesty in his answer, even though she could tell there was more to the story than he was willing to share. He was guarded, his hesitation spoke volumes, but T'kaya was used to that. She didn’t pry, at least not immediately. She'd learned over the years that everyone carried their own baggage, and sometimes, it was better to let them unpack it when they were ready.

His last words, though, brought her focus back to the present. She chuckled, her head tilting slightly, considering the challenge. “Oh, I can definitely show you that,” she replied with a teasing smile. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her coffee cup, swirling it a little. “Spontaneity is about letting go of control for a moment, letting the wind blow you where it will. Sometimes, you end up with a snowball fight or a great story for later. Other times… you just end up with really cold toes.”

Her eyes twinkled as she leaned forward just a bit, lowering her voice playfully. “But I think you could use a little fun, Brandon. You’ve got this… serious energy about you. It’s hot, but I’m not sure how much longer it’ll be able to hold up against all the silliness I have in mind.” She winked, clearly not taking his hesitation as a no, but rather a challenge.

T'kaya took a sip of her coffee, savoring the warmth for a moment. "Besides, I don't know about you, but I love seeing people step outside their comfort zones. It's how you discover the best stuff about yourself, right? Being a dance teacher has helped me see just how much people open up once they try something new." She leaned back, studying him, letting the question linger for a beat before she added, "Plus, I don’t think you’d regret it."

Her fingers brushed against his hand lightly as she set her cup down. She wasn’t quite sure where this was going, but something about him intrigued her. He wasn’t like the others she met in town, more reserved, yet there was this underlying fire she could almost feel. A challenge that wasn’t to be ignored.

“So,” she said, her voice playful but sincere, “You want to keep things safe and predictable, or do you want to throw caution to the wind and see where the adventure takes us?” Her grin was wide, as though she was already picturing what might come next.

Mentions: Brandon - Lizy

coded by kaninchen

 

[travelbypages]

ZANE BENNETT

Zane snorted, taking another hit from the bong and exhaling slowly as he watched Casper fidget, his expression shifting between casual and... something more. That little shift wasn’t lost on Zane. He didn’t need to compare shit, he just needed to be here, in this moment, with Casper.

"Hey, man, you’re way better than you’re giving yourself credit for," Zane said, voice light, but steady. He tilted his head, watching Casper with a mixture of amusement and something that felt a little more like understanding. "Like, come on, look at you, you're already crushing it at 'cookie eating.' I can tell you’ve got potential there."

He leaned forward slightly, tapping the edge of the bong against the table like it was some kind of magic wand. "I mean, cookies are the ultimate answer to everything, right?" he added with a goofy grin, giving a little shrug. "Even when the world feels like it's crashing down, cookies make it better. That’s science, man." Zane leaned back into the couch, a little more relaxed, letting the silence stretch for a moment. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. More like a soft space, a place where he didn’t feel the need to fill every second with words.

"Look, don’t stress about having everything figured out," Zane continued after a beat, his voice getting that warm, easy cadence to it. "Like, yeah, we all get those days where you feel off. But it's not about being ‘awesome’ every second. I mean, c’mon, who even wants to be perfect? That shit’s boring."

Zane took another hit, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the table like it was a normal thing to do in the middle of a deep conversation. "You know what’s awesome, though? Being real. Even if it’s a little messy. Like right now? You're telling me how you feel off, and I respect the hell out of that."

He let out a breath, rubbing his hands together like he was mentally preparing for something, anything that might make this situation even a little lighter. "And hey, if you want to hate yourself for a bit, that's cool too. It’s allowed. I mean, as long as you don’t start punching holes in the wall, or like, yelling at the pizza for not being more ‘pizza-y.’ That’d be a little much, even for me."

Zane let out a quick laugh, the sound easy and light, as he glanced over at Casper with a cheeky smile. "You ever get mad at food for not living up to expectations? Like, you bite into a pizza and it’s all meh? Like, nah, I ordered this with high hopes, pizza! You’ve let me down!"

He tossed Casper a wink, leaning back again, letting his legs sprawl out. "Point is, though, man... you don’t gotta be anything special right now. Just be you. We’ve got cookies, we’ve got weed, we’ve got... pizza that’s meh at best. And that's more than enough." Zane’s voice softened a little, still playful, but there was that little bit of sincerity slipping through, the kind that didn’t need to be forced. "But seriously, you don’t gotta keep it all bottled up. If you want to talk more, cool. Or if you just wanna sit here, we can do that too. Whatever works."

He paused, letting the silence hang for a second, before adding with a grin, "But if you’re gonna keep looking at me like that, I might just have to make you take the next hit so I can see what happens. Dangerous thing, that eye contact. It's got mysterious sexy vibes."

Mentions: Casper - Lizy

coded by kaninchen

 

[celestialbody]

Jupiter Khaing

J

upiter managed a small, strained smile as she laughed again, agreeing with him as she glanced down at her drenched clothes in a pile on the floor. He could feel the tension in the air, but her laughter made the situation a bit more bearable.

"Don't worry about it, my brother's the same way. He laughs whenever he's in an uncomfortable situation. Never understood it, but I'm used to it."

Jupiter nodded, a quiet understanding in his voice. He could definitely relate—this entire situation was awkward, uncomfortable, and... well, locked in a room together, they had nowhere to go but up, right?
Her next comment, though, shifted something inside him. His strained smile morphed into a wider, more cautious one, one that he tried his best to hold back by biting his lower lip. He wasn’t entirely sure why it made him want to laugh now. He’d replayed the events of their disastrous date in his mind a hundred times—irritated, confused, and wondering how things had gone so wrong. But now, in this odd moment, being stuck in the same room with the girl who had made that date so frustrating... something about it, combined with her easy laugh, made him want to laugh too.
And, of course, he folded. He let out a small chuckle that he quickly tried to cover up, pretending to cough into his fist as an excuse.

"Ahem, yeah, I guess you're right. I suppose we're at least safe from situations like that."

Jupiter glanced around the room anxiously, wondering if he should find a place to sit, his mind struggling with what to say next. Should he fill the silence, or just wait it out until they were released from this... strange confinement?

"But who knows,"

he added with a small, careful smirk as he peeked over at her.

"Maybe the next thing we know, a snake will come shooting out of the toilet?"

outfit:

location:

Revelstoke Mountain Lodge

tags:

Isabelle PrincessAveRedfern

 

[travelbypages]

CALLA CARLTON

Calla smiled, her gaze flicking between Finn and the lodge door, and without a second thought, she reached out to pat his arm, her fingers brushing lightly against his sleeve.

"I buy you whiskey," she said with a slight shrug, her accent soft but firm. "You seem sad. Whiskey loosen bones." She gave him a quick, playful nudge. "Come on, I show you. Let’s go."

She turned then, leading him inside the lodge, the warmth of the fire and the chatter of voices wrapping around them as they entered. Her eyes flicked to Finn, studying him quickly, wondering what he thought of her sudden invitation, but she said nothing more, instead leading him toward the cozy bar area.

“Meet me there,” she added, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder. “I put bags away, come back with drink for you.” Her smile was a little teasing as she moved toward the stairs to the small rooms above. "Don’t run away. Wait for me.”

***

When Calla came back down, the sounds of laughter and the clink of glasses were louder now. The air smelled of wood, whiskey, and something familiar that made her feel both comfortable and out of place. She didn’t mind. She was used to being somewhere new, but here, in this cold town, it felt like she was searching for something she didn’t even know she needed.

Her eyes found Finn immediately, his profile sharp against the low lights of the bar. He looked so serious, even sitting there, like someone who wasn’t fully present. But that was the thing, she liked to see when people let their guard down, even just a little.

She walked up to the bar, ordering their drinks before returning to where Finn sat, the whiskey in hand. She handed him his glass, her fingers brushing his as she did so, her smile playful, her voice low but warm. "Whiskey," she said, leaning forward just slightly, her gaze meeting his with quiet intensity. "The good thing for people who... not talk much. Makes bones loose. You will talk, maybe, if you drink enough." Her smile was almost teasing now, a challenge in her words.

She sat beside him, glancing at his face to catch his reaction. She’d already decided, she would keep this light. She didn’t need to dig into his past, didn’t need him to tell her everything. But she wouldn’t mind if he opened up. Just a little. She swirled her own drink in her hand, the amber liquid catching the light.

“I tell you something,” she added casually, her tone slipping back into something more reflective. "Revelstoke is... strange. Different." She paused, sipping her whiskey, feeling the warmth spread in her chest. "But I find something here, I think. Maybe not now. But I will." Her eyes met his again, a flicker of something fierce behind them. "People here... like you... strange, but maybe not so bad."

She caught the way his eyes narrowed slightly at her words, like he was trying to read her, but her smile stayed in place, unshaken. She wasn’t here to figure him out completely. She didn’t need to know everything about him to enjoy this moment. He was right, in a way. People were just people. But she liked to know them anyway.

"Calla from Spain," she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow, "Calla the... hypocrite." She repeated, tilting her head side to side with her nose scrunched as if mocking the names he gave her. Her grin widened at the nicknames, but she raised an eyebrow as she caught his gaze. “You say I try convince you of Revelstoke. But you... you try not to enjoy it. I think I get. Maybe you... also need change.”

She held his gaze a moment longer, her own curiosity sparking in her chest. "Yes?" she asked softly, her voice dipping a little lower. "What are you looking for here? What is... change... to you?" She tilted her head slightly, feeling the edges of their conversation shift, but keeping it light, playful, as always.

But in the back of her mind, she knew this was more than just a drink. It always was. She was always looking for more. And with him, she felt that pull. He wasn’t easy to figure out, not like other people. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t try. And when he made his joke about her being a hypocrite, she only smirked, letting the air between them fill with quiet amusement. She wasn’t offended. In fact, she was quite pleased that he could keep up.

As she turned the question back on him, a little spark of mischief in her eyes, she waited for him to respond, to reveal more of himself, of his thoughts, or maybe, just a little bit of truth.

Mentions: Finn - PotatochipsRlit

coded by kaninchen

 

[PrincessAveRedfern]

Hades Hawthorne

Astrologist

Location

Hades Apartment

"God She is something else"

interactions.

travelbypages -Hanna

H

ades gazed down at the striking woman before him, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“If I knew you any better, Hanna darling, that would sound like a girlfriend response,”

he teased, his fingers gently caressing her arm. In his defense, he hadn’t actively discouraged her feelings; the topic of their relationship had simply remained unspoken. He had never explicitly told her that dating was off the table—merely a subject they had yet to explore.

His attention drifted as he observed the loft, his mind wandering from the comfort of the bed to the inviting expanse of the living room.

“Hmm,”

he mused softly, his voice laced with contemplation.

“I think the tree would look magnificent in that corner… but you have a far better sense for these things than I do.”

As he spoke, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of her head, a gesture of affection that felt natural and right.

Since meeting her, Hades had sensed a shift within himself. His life had always been in perpetual motion, dictated by the stars and the demands of his work. But here, in this moment, he felt anchored, as if Hanna had become his own celestial body in an otherwise chaotic universe. He stole another glance at her, his expression softening further as he contemplated the implications of his presence in town. He thought about messaging his family to let them know he was back, yet the thought of revealing his wealth to her felt premature.

Holding her close, he smirked playfully.

“Alright, let’s rise and shine and prepare for the day,”

he declared, effortlessly lifting her with him as he stood. The warmth of her presence against him ignited a spark of excitement for whatever lay ahead.

 

[PrincessAveRedfern]

Kennedy Redfern

Auto Shop Co-Owner

Location

Penthouse Party

"He's kind of cute"

interactions.

PotatochipsRlit -Bryson

K

ennedy stood in the kitchen, meticulously gathering all the ingredients they required for their pancake endeavor, her heart fluttering with anticipation. As she rolled her eyes playfully, laughter erupted from her lips.

“You do realize that just because I can’t see you, I know you secretly revel in the teasing,”

she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Once they had everything laid out in delightful disarray, she turned to him, a radiant smile illuminating her face.

“Alright, you take the table, and I’ll commandeer the counter. Let the culinary competition commence!”

Winning was not her primary motivation; rather, the prospect of savoring his creations thrilled her in ways she hadn’t expected.

As she cracked eggs into the mixing bowl, the rhythmic sound echoed in the kitchen, mingling with the anticipation of breakfast. She cast a glance over her shoulder, momentarily pausing to fully absorb him—the way he moved, the light in his eyes, the effortless charm he exuded. Since the instant he had arrived, an undeniable magnetism had drawn her toward him. She had navigated her fair share of clandestine relationships throughout high school, always careful to keep them hidden from her siblings. Yet with him, she felt liberated, unburdened by the need for secrecy. It was abundantly clear that her siblings were perceptive to the chemistry crackling between them, and she found solace in that acknowledgment.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was able to cast aside thoughts of her parents and the melancholy that often enveloped her during the holiday season as she struggled to conjure memories of their faces. Instead, she reveled in the company of someone who was genuinely excited to be with her, someone who encouraged her to embrace her true self. This profound connection held an intrinsic significance that warmed her heart and lifted her spirits.

After a few moments of introspection, she refocused on her culinary endeavor. With a flourish, she added her secret ingredient—an aromatic splash of vanilla, followed by a delicate sprinkling of cinnamon spice—into the bowl. The intoxicating fragrance wafted through the air, weaving its way around them like a warm embrace. It mirrored the comfort she felt in his presence, igniting a flicker of hope that perhaps this holiday season could blossom into something extraordinary.

As she continued to mix her batter, she felt an exhilarating thrill at the idea of sharing this moment with him. The kitchen, usually a mundane space, transformed into a sanctuary where laughter and creativity intertwined. Each motion was infused with a sense of purpose, each ingredient a testament to the joy she was beginning to rediscover. She couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the day might hold, and with him by her side, she felt ready to embrace whatever came next.

 

[celestialbody]

Ozelia Mae Bonet

O

zelia grinned happily as she saw Eileen finally crack a smile, the younger woman bursting into laughter beside her. It warmed Ozelia’s heart to see the shift in her mood, and she couldn’t help but let out an unrestrained laugh of her own. There was something so pure about hearing Eileen’s laughter—it was as if a weight had lifted from both of them.
She leaned back against the bench in satisfaction, savoring the moment. She had managed to bring a little joy to Eileen’s day, and though it might only be a fleeting happiness, it was enough for her. She couldn’t stand seeing sad faces, especially on a day like today, when everyone was supposed to come together and share the spirit of joy in their little town.
As a longtime resident of Revelstoke, Ozelia had grown up with the belief that you didn’t just walk past someone who was feeling down. You didn’t leave them to face the weight of their troubles alone. That wasn’t how she had been raised, nor was it the kind of person she wanted to be.
Their laughter eventually began to slow, and Ozelia glanced over at Eileen, her wide, goofy grin now softening into a more gentle, relieved expression. She was glad to see that Eileen seemed to be alright for now.

"Fair enough,"

Ozelia said with a playful smile.

"But when you’re feeling down, it helps to hear how someone else has slipped up or done something silly. Not everyone can be as weird as me and laugh at themselves, especially when they’re feeling low."

Her gaze wandered out to the bustling scene around them—the families passing by, the couples and friends walking hand-in-hand, all wrapped in the warmth of shared happiness. It made her heart ache just a little, but there was something beautiful about it too.

"I’m really happy you could laugh with me, Eileen,"

she added, her voice softening.

"It’s nice to share these moments with someone, even if that someone is a stranger."

Ozelia paused for a moment, her fingers tracing the edge of the bench as she chose her next words carefully. She didn’t want to spoil the bright mood they had just shared, not after managing to lift it so effortlessly. But she also felt it was important to say what was on her mind.

"I hope you know,"

she continued gently, her voice sincere,

"that whatever it was that had you feeling blue... you don’t have to deal with it alone. I don’t know who’s in your life, but I’m sure there are plenty of people who love someone as sweet as you and are more than willing to sit with you, just be there for you, instead of a nosy stranger like me."

She smiled softly, hoping that the kindness in her words would resonate with Eileen. It was the truth, after all—no one should ever feel like they were carrying their burdens alone.

outfit:

location:

Main Street

tags:

Eileen ShellBelles

 

[PrincessAveRedfern]

Emara Linchette-Morris

Therapist

Location

Emara House/Office

"Hello Old home"

interactions.

PotatochipsRlit -Forrest

E

mara winced at the palpable anguish reflected in his eyes as she gradually made her way to her chair. The weight of the moment hung heavily in the air, a tension that settled around them like a thick fog. Settling into her seat, she met his gaze with a measured expression, her heart aching at the sight of his discomfort.

“The therapist who once resided here and operated their practice from this very house has passed away,”

she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

“I had known them for quite some time. They were aware of my aspiration to obtain my license a few years back, and upon their passing, it was stipulated in their will that I assume their practice.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words linger in the air, as if they were heavy stones cast into a still pond, rippling with implications. The news hung like a shroud between them, and she couldn’t quite fathom why she felt compelled to explain this to him; after all, he was merely an old patient from her past. Rubbing her hands together, she leaned back into her chair, searching for composure while the memories of their sessions swirled in her mind. Yet, he was no longer her patient; when she departed, she had provided recommendations and even suggested the individual who would take over her position at the previous office.

She studied him intently as he contemplated the revelations she had just shared, his brow furrowing in thought. Closing her eyes briefly, she gathered her thoughts like fragile pieces of glass, careful not to shatter them.

“What I cannot comprehend is how you discovered the location of my practice,”

she said, her curiosity mingling with a hint of apprehension. She chose her words with care, as if navigating a delicate pathway strewn with hidden obstacles.

“I recall you mentioning that you once lived here... but I don’t remember ever disclosing that I did or that I had accepted the position here.”

Looking at him with a softness that belied her confusion, she shook her head gently, her heart racing as she spoke.

“Forrest... If I ever conveyed any impression that led you to believe there was more between us, that was never my intention. I was simply striving to fulfill my professional duties.”

Her voice trembled slightly as she rifled through her memories of every session they had shared, trying to pinpoint any moment that might have given him the impression she desired something beyond a therapeutic relationship.

After the tumultuous events of years past, she had made a concerted effort to maintain a facade of professionalism. She had earned her license after that ordeal, vowing and taking an oath to herself that she would not allow herself to become ensnared in such a predicament again. The thought weighed heavily on her, a reminder of the boundaries she had promised to uphold.

As silence enveloped them, Emara felt the gravity of the moment deepen. She watched as his expression shifted, contemplating her words while a myriad of emotions danced across his features. The uncertainty hung in the air like a fragile thread, ready to unravel at the slightest tug.

“I want you to understand,”

she continued, her voice barely above a whisper,

“that the essence of our relationship was always rooted in professionalism. I wanted to help you—truly, I did. But I never intended for our rapport to blur those lines.”

She felt a tremor in her own resolve, a flicker of vulnerability surfacing as she laid her feelings bare.

“It’s important to me that you know this.”

She searched his eyes for understanding, hoping to bridge the chasm that had formed between them. In that moment, she realized how much she truly valued the connection they had forged, even within the confines of their former roles. The realization left her feeling both exposed and hopeful, a complex tapestry of emotions weaving together in the quiet of the room.

 

[PotatochipsRlit]

Finn Erickson

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  mood

  
  
  
  

  Oh, you're different.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  outfit

  
  
  
  

  Compression shirt with snowboard pants.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  location

  
  
  
  

  Lodge Bar
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  interactions

  
  
  
  

  travelbypages - Calla
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

As their gazes locked, Finn felt an undeniable spark with Calla that momentarily eclipsed his usual apathy.
Just as he was about to do something.. a bit daring.. her hand brushed against his arm, sending an electric charge through him.

She raised an eyebrow playfully, tilting her head slightly, causing his confident smirk to falter and transform into curious intrigue...

“I’ll buy you whiskey,” Calla blurted out, her tone laced with an unexpected boldness that caught Finn off-guard.

“Whiskey…?” he replied, his voice low and questioning, half-skeptical of her sudden generosity...
She continued on, noting how he seemed a bit downcast, and the scoff that escaped his lips was a reflex.. he was not sad, not in the least..just trapped in the endless cycle of his own indifference.
He chuckled silently at her insistence that whiskey could loosen one’s bones.. as much as that was true, Finn had developed such a strong resistance to alcohol that it hardly dulled his mind anymore, often leading him to overindulge without a second thought.

Regaining his composure, he observed her playful nudging, a subtle yet insistent invitation to follow her into the lodge.. Initially, Finn had intended merely to toy with her affections before just vanishing.. yet her eagerness to prolong their evening together piqued his curiosity.
It seemed painfully obvious that she was interested, unmistakably leading him toward the bar under the pretense of buying him whiskey. How could he refuse such an enticing offer..?
His focus remained fixed on her as she instructed him to meet her at the bar.. But in an instant, she slipped away to stow her bags in her room, her voice floating back to him like a playful taunt:

“Don’t run away. Wait for me.”

He couldn’t suppress a resigned smile, murmuring to himself, “Alright then... she's buying me whiskey,” as he ambled toward the bar.
Once seated on a stool, he surveyed the room but quickly caught the gaze of a group of women, one of whom seemed particularly interested in him. Finn narrowed his eyes, turning his body away in refusal.. tonight, he resolved not to indulge in distractions. the intensity of her gaze only momentarily distracted him from thoughts of Calla.. he thought of their conversation, and where he was now..

He wasn’t used to such directness, and part of him wondered what lay beneath her playful demeanor... Finn adjusted himself on the bar stool, trying to shake off the unexpected excitement that their interaction had ignited.
The bartender approached him for his order, but Finn found himself hesitating. “Waiting for someone,” he explained, a smirk creeping onto his face as he remembered Calla's insistence...
After all, there was no point in depriving her of the thrill of being the one to buy it..besides, he liked the way she had taken charge, and it intrigued him more than he’d like to admit. A few moments later, the tension in the air shifted as he felt Calla’s presence before he even turned to look. She glided back into the bar area, her movements fluid and confident, as if every eye in the room were drawn to her..certainly Finn’s was..

He observed her as she placed the drink order, his gaze tracing the fluidity of her movements with a mix of admiration and curiosity. When she approached, his attention flickered between the glass she held and her expressive face, his brows lifting slightly in surprise, accompanied by a subtle smirk.
As he accepted the drink from her, he felt the gentle brush of her fingers against his, a fleeting connection that sent a thrill through him. The way she pronounced "whiskey" caught his ear, igniting a spark of intrigue within him, prompting him to shake his head in playful disbelief as he raised the glass slightly in acknowledgment.
"You certainly know how to keep a guy on his toes," he remarked, attempting to sound casual while a whirlwind of thoughts clamored for his attention, each one more daring than the last.

Her words hung in the air, playful yet suggestive, as she mused about the liberating effects of alcohol on those who tend to be quiet... Finn's brow arched at her comment, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he contemplated the unspoken invitation that danced on the edge of her suggestion..

Or... is this your way of trying to get me up to your room?

The thought lingered tantalizingly in his mind, a chuckle escaping him as he wrestled with the temptation to voice it.

"If I drink enough, maybe I'll forget all about this dreary town I find myself in... lavish decorations and all," he replied, the words dripping with a hint of sarcasm as they rolled off his tongue... "Cheers to that... Calla from Spain," ..he added, clinking his glass against hers before savoring the smooth warmth of the liquid pleasure as it slid down his throat, igniting a flicker of excitement in his eyes.

Leaning in closer, he swirled his drink thoughtfully, intrigued by her response to his playful banter... "Are you saying I'm a lot like this town... strange?" ..he probed, his curiosity piqued as he leaned in further, seeking clarity... "Different...?" ..he pressed, wanting to unravel her thoughts..A sip from his glass punctuated his curiosity; she found him quirky…different…yet intriguing enough not to write off.

Not so bad, huh..? Yeah she didn't know him one bit.

Their eyes locked in a fiery exchange, each reflecting a hint of challenge, as he endeavored to decipher her enigmatic allure. The spark ignited again when she echoed back the nickname he had playfully given her, though it rang mellifluous and richer articulated through her lips.

Finn felt the sharp edge of Calla's playful mockery, her laughter echoing in the space between them, a teasing dance around the names he had given her...

"You say I try convince you of Revelstoke. But you... you try not to enjoy it. I think I get. Maybe you... also need change."

Her words sliced through him unexpectedly, leaving him momentarily adrift, his thoughts spiraling into a vague introspection...
The idea that perhaps he, too, was in need of change lingered in the air between them, an uninvited whisper that made his pulse quicken.

He took a deliberate sip from his drink, searching for an anchor as her gaze demanded his attention while he averted his eyes, unwilling to unveil the uncertainty brewing within...
"Change is perceived only through one’s own lens," he managed to say, his finger gesturing toward her eyes with a mix of veiled frustration and amusement.. "People don’t really care if you change; they’ll always see you in the same light."

With a slight cough, he downed the remainder of his whiskey, the burn of the alcohol a familiar comfort,, a reckless act that did little to quell the uproar in his mind..he was just a wild spirit trapped in the habitual chaos of alcohol, still wrestling with what it meant to truly settle down at the age of twenty-six.
As clarity slipped through his fingers, he redirected his gaze, allowing a confident smirk to resurface to mask his inner turmoil, though the depth of her understanding unnerved him.. it felt as though she could pierce through his bravado and see the raw layers beneath.

The whiskey fuzzed his thoughts, making his emotions feel amplified, wrestling with the sober reality of what was unfolding. Finn raised his hand, summoning the bartender with a casual flick... "Another round of whiskey..put it on my tab," he declared, his eyes locking onto Calla's with a newfound intensity, eager to shift the topic that had suddenly made him vulnerable.

"Tonight, I’m determined to unravel the depths of your secrets, Calla," he mused, a playful grin spreading across his features, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper as he leaned closer, the lingering scent of whiskey intertwining with their charged atmosphere. "So i wouldn't drink much of that.. if you're wanting to keep them hidden.."

How Many Drinks?

Miguel

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Lizy]

mood :

apologetic

location :

diner

outfit :

mentions :

n/a

interactions :

ophelia celestialbody

McKay

;; Soren

Soren took some comfort in Ophelia's reaction. She didn't hate him. Well, at least it didn't seem like she hated him. Worries he had about destroying their friendship washed away with the softness of her voice. He took the handkerchief and gently dabbed at the stray couple of tears that he hadn't been able to hold back.

"Sorry," he muttered extremely quietly, coming out more like a musing than an actual apology for something. He didn't know why he was saying sorry at this point, really. He just didn't know what to say. And sorry seemed to be his favorite word at the moment.

Soren took a shaky breath and nodded as his gaze followed her pointer finger towards the dinner. "Okay, yeah." He followed her into the restaurant, which was fairly quiet on Christmas Day, only a few people scattered about. They were sat quickly and Ophelia was able to set her many bags down.

Using his menu as a buffer, he took a couple moments to sit in silence. Just gazing at the menu in front of him, not really reading anything, trying to find his voice again.

After a few seconds, he spoke up. Soren's voice was uncertain, but there was some warmth of appreciation in his voice. "Thanks for being... understanding about this. I shouldn't have acted like I wasn't me, that was really rude." He frowned, brown eyes apologetic. "I've just... I came here to get away from show business. And I love you, I'm so glad to see you here. I'm not trying to say I'm not glad to see you. I just- it wasn't something I was really expecting today."

coded by reveriee.

 

[ShellBelles]

ELLIOT BROOKS

Elliot felt his face flush as he turned away from Héctor, hurriedly walking toward the coffee station, hoping the cool air from the fan in the kitchen would give him a moment to collect himself. The way Héctor's smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, the teasing lilt to his voice, it was all just a little too much, and Elliot could never seem to keep his composure when he was around him.

He busied himself with the task of preparing the drink, though his hands fumbled slightly as he measured out the coffee grounds. ‘Just focus, Elliot. Focus,’ he told himself, but the image of Héctor standing there with his cocky grin, hands on his hips, kept playing in his mind. He could still hear the soft, smooth way Héctor spoke in Spanish, the way he looked at him so knowing, like he could see right through him. Elliot tried to suppress a nervous chuckle, but it escaped anyway, making him cringe inwardly.

Once the coffee was brewing, Elliot leaned against the counter, resting his elbows and wiping a hand over his face. ‘God, you’re making a fool of yourself,’ he thought. Héctor didn’t make things easy on him either. His teasing, the way he always seemed to know exactly how to push his buttons, it was hard to tell whether Héctor was genuinely interested in him or just enjoying the power he had over Elliot’s nerves.

He couldn’t help but be flattered by it, though. Héctor was so... confident, so effortless in his charm. It was hard not to feel drawn to him, especially when Elliot knew nothing about the man outside of these brief interactions. Héctor was always calm, always in control. But there was something about his presence here, something in the way he’d caught Elliot’s gaze earlier that hinted at more. Elliot had never had a customer linger around like Héctor, never had anyone like him come back day after day, making small talk, giving him that damn smile.

The sound of the espresso machine pulling shots brought him back to the task at hand, and he worked quickly to finish the drink, carefully crafting a latte with a heart-shaped design in the foam. He thought about the small details; Héctor’s smirk, the way his dark eyes lingered just a bit too long, how he always made Elliot feel a little off-balance but somehow... special. ‘Okay, just give him the drink, and don’t overthink it.’

When he was finished, Elliot took a breath and brought the cup to the counter, hoping he didn’t look too flustered. He glanced over at Héctor, who had settled into one of the chairs at the far table, looking as relaxed as ever. Elliot had to force himself to walk over, his sneakers squeaking slightly as he approached.

“Here you go,” he said softly, setting the cup down in front of Héctor. He paused for a moment, eyes flicking to the bags by his feet, then back to the man sitting comfortably. “Did you... find everything you needed?” He immediately regretted the question, not knowing why he’d asked it. He already knew the answer, Héctor always seemed to find exactly what he wanted.

But this time, there was something different in the way Elliot spoke. It wasn’t just the automatic customer service script. He was trying…no, wanting more. Something in him longed for a connection beyond the usual routine.

He looked back at Héctor, who seemed entirely at ease, his posture confident, his eyes warm. Elliot’s chest tightened at the look. Like Héctor was waiting, almost expecting something from him. And for a moment, he wondered if maybe he was. Maybe he was hoping that Elliot would say something, anything, that wasn’t just part of the usual transaction.

Elliot’s breath caught in his throat, his words faltering as his mind scrambled for something to say. It was like there was too much to say, but too little at the same time. He shifted on his feet, unsure of what to do with his hands, and when the silence stretched out, he realized that, despite his nervousness, he didn’t mind it. Héctor’s presence, so steady, so unbothered, felt comforting, like a challenge he wasn’t sure how to meet, but wanted to. ‘Maybe this time... maybe I’ll say something.‘

Instead of retreating back to the counter, like he normally would, Elliot leaned just slightly against the edge of the table, letting himself be just a bit closer. ‘You’ve got this, just say something.’ But all that came out was a small, almost inaudible, “Maybe... maybe I’m just... not that interesting.” He winced immediately after the words left his mouth, his heart pounding in his chest. Great. Now he really sounded like an idiot. He wanted to take it back, but there was no way to do that without looking even more foolish.

Héctor didn’t say anything for a while, just continued looking at him with that unreadable expression, and Elliot felt the familiar heat creep up his neck. He wanted to turn and hide, to retreat back into the comfort of his routine where things were predictable. But this time, something kept him rooted to the spot. For the first time, Elliot found himself waiting for Héctor’s response, a response that might just help him figure out whether he was totally off the mark, or whether he might have actually been understood for once.

Mentions: Héctor - ShellBelles

coded by kaninchen

POV - Héctor Castillo
​

Héctor sat there patiently at his table while waiting for Elliot to return with his drink. He tapped his finger against the cold surface, with his head rested against his other hand. He kept thinking about the fact that today was supposed to be a special holiday, and here he was just sitting at a cafe, surrounded by his many bags of stuff from the shops. It was both funny and sad really. Héctor had been spending today the same as every other day. Not exactly getting into the spirit of things. But of course, he planned on changing that hopefully.

Right on time, Elliot came back with Héctor's coffee. His smile returning to his face as he watched him place it down right in front of him. Something Héctor noticed was that Elliot always seemed to put in the quality when it came to his orders. Of course, it was possible that he did that for everyone, given that Elliot seemed like enough of a gentleman to care about that sort of thing. But Héctor liked to imagine that he was getting a sort of special treatment from the worker, which made coming here all the more enjoyable.

Héctor grabbed the cup, taking a moment to admire the little heart that Elliot put in there. It wasn't the first time he saw that with his coffee. And he wasn't sure if that was the default design that it came with or if it was simply the only one that Elliot knew how to do. But again, Héctor liked to imagine that Elliot only did it just for him. It made it all the sweeter for him. "Gracias," he said to him in that low and smooth tone while giving him another wink. He took a sip from his cup, savoring the taste before bringing his attention back to Elliot.

When he asked that question his smirk returned to his face, cocking his eyebrow a bit while he simply stared at the tired worker with that look of his. "Hm. I don't know. Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't." He kept his eyes on Elliot, watching his every move to see if he's gotten the hint he's been trying to give him this whole time. Elliot continued to scramble where he stood, like a cornered mouse. As cute as it was, Elliot really wasn't all that great at being subtle. Héctor knew very well that Elliot wanted to engage more with him as well. Now he was just trying to see how he could get him to make a move.

Héctor didn't say anything. Just simply nodding or shrugging in response to his statements while he continued to sit there with his coffee. His finger idly traced around the rim of the cup in a slow manner, while he continued to give Elliot that teasing smile of his. They both knew what they wanted at this point, but it seemed like now they were both waiting on each other to make the move. The two of them were just staring at each other now, silence accompanying them in this moment, starting to make it a little awkward. After a while, Héctor's look started to slowly shift into one of confusion as he stared at Elliot. Was he really not getting the picture?

Afterwards, Héctor snorted before letting out a huff of amused laughter. Perhaps he'll be the one to take the hit, just this once. But he still planned on cracking this shell for the poor server at some point. He looked back up at Elliot with his now amused face, his tone changing a bit from that smoothness he had earlier. "Are you just gonna stand there, cariño? Have a seat. I insist," he said as he gestured to the seat right in front of him, finally making it clear on what he wanted out of this whole exchange. It wasn't even an invitation at this point. It was pretty much just Héctor giving Elliot the answer he was looking for.

travelbypages (Elliot)

 

[celestialbody]

Esme Mensah

E

sme's expression tightened as Grayson’s words landed, sharp and brutal, like a punch to the gut. His anger, his accusations—they felt so familiar, too raw. They mirrored the harsh self-talk that often came with the weight of her depression, kicking her when she was already down. The way he looked at her, like she was the villain in a story she never wanted to be a part of, twisted something deep inside her. She could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but she pushed them down, just like she always had.
When he finally fell silent, the air between them seemed to hang heavy, suffocating. Esme took a sharp breath, her chest tight, fighting the urge to break down. The ache that had been there since the day she left came rushing back, and it only intensified every time she looked at him.

"I didn’t walk out because I wanted to,"

she shot back, her voice trembling, but not from anger. It was the frustration, the hurt, the tangled mess of emotions that she couldn’t seem to unravel.

"I didn’t want to tear everything apart. I didn’t want to leave you, or Julian, or Maisel—god, I didn’t want any of it. But I couldn’t talk to you. We had so much to deal with, so much responsibility piling on, and I didn’t want to add my own burdens on top of yours when I knew you were already carrying so much."

Her gaze dropped briefly to the floor, gathering the strength to meet his eyes again. Her hands trembled at her sides, and she clenched them into fists to steady herself.

"I didn’t leave because I didn’t care,"

she continued, her voice tight with the weight of the words she’d been holding back for so long.

"I left because I was drowning. Because it was the only way I could breathe. I had to get out before I lost myself completely. And I tried—god, I tried to fix things before they got this bad, I really did."

She shook her head, the sadness in her voice creeping in despite her best efforts to stay composed.

"I never expected you to fix everything for me, Grayson,"

she said, her voice breaking on a bitter laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I just wanted you to see me. To see that I was falling apart—not just physically, but..."

Her words faltered as she cut herself off, not wanting to unravel any further in front of him. The tears were threatening now, but she pushed them back, swallowing hard. She reached up to rub her forehead, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"I know things aren’t perfect. I know it’s been hard for all of us,"

she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"But don’t you dare tell me I didn’t care. Don’t you dare act like you’re the only one who’s been struggling."

Her voice cracked on the last sentence, the weight of everything—the years apart, the silence between them—pressing down on her.
Esme swallowed, taking a slow, shaky breath to steady herself before she continued.

"I’m trying, Grayson, okay?"

She took a step closer, her eyes searching his, her frustration and sadness blending together.

"I’m trying to make this work—for Maisel’s sake, for all of us. But every time we come together like this, every time we try to talk, it feels like we’re just right back at square one—fighting over everything. And I’m so tired. I’m so damn tired of feeling like I’m the only one still trying."

Her words hung in the air between them, a mix of sadness, and clear frustration. She had hoped this Christmas would be different, that for Maisel’s sake, they could try to have a moment of peace. But it felt like the past was too loud, too insistent, to let them have what they needed.

outfit:

location:

Ex Husbands House

tags:

Grayson travelbypages Julian Lizy Blair