bludthirst

[bludthirst]

“      𝗂   𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍   𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄   𝗌𝗈.      ”         nose   crinkled      +      grin   etching   far   into   half   -   lidded   hues,   their   head   rests   against   his   thigh         ;         wouldn’t   be   a      stretch      to   say   that   it’s   become   a   favourite   spot,   sprawled   across   his   lap      +      gangly   legs   hooked   over   sofa’s   armrest.         “      i   reckon   he’d   be,   like,   thrilled   about   it,   though.   the      novelty,      i   mean.      ”

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 : closed + @bludthirst ! 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : open , sawyer + open !

❝ 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗥 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 find out the function of a rubber duck ? ❞ fingers tug at rustled curls, squinting at the credits rolling through on the tv screen.

[bludthirst]

𝖣𝖤𝖢𝖫𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖥𝖨𝖤𝖣:         #𝗜𝗡   𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥   𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧   𝗕𝗟𝗨𝗘   𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦,

𝟬𝟬𝟭.      𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌.

name:      scout   rian   vonnegut.         nicknames:      none.         age:      forty2.         date   of   birth:      january   5th,   1982.         place   of   birth:      glen   ellen,   california,   usa.         nationality:      american.         gender      +      pronouns:      cis   man,   he/him.         orientation:      heterosexual,   heteroromantic.         zodiac:      capricorn.

𝟬𝟬𝟮.      𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗅.

mother:      dolly   ann   vonnegut,   née   dwyer.         father:      owen   christopher   vonnegut.         siblings:      three   younger   siblings,   wcs   to   come.         marital   status:      single,   divorced.         children:      eloise   vonnegut,   twenty1.   daughter.         extended   family:      none   of   any   particular   note.         pets:      the   world’s   most   spoiled   rottweiler,   called   sonny.

𝟬𝟬𝟯.      𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒.

hair:      dirty   blonde.   kept   relatively   short,   but   the   front   is   slightly   longer.   groomed      +      styled   when   it   needs   to   be,   but   the   extent   of   his   day   -   to   -   day   maintenance   of   it   is   raking   his   fingers   through   it.      eyes:      very,   very   blue,   with   flecks   of   green   throughout.   framed   by   blonde   lashes.         height:      six   foot.         build:      ectomorph.   very   lean   musculature,   has   a   runner’s   build.   most   definition   in   his   upper   arms      +      legs.         scent:      dior   sauvage      (      tragically      ).   hint   of   cigarette   smoke.   old,   well   -   loved   leather.         dominant   hand:      right.         allergies:      hayfever,   kiwi   fruit.         distinguishing   features:      spattering   of   freckles   along   the   high   planes   of   his   face.   worry   lines   that   tug   at   the   corners   of   his   eyes      +      mouth.         tattoos:      kanji   that   reads   ‘family’   on   his   right   pectoral.         piercings:      none,   currently.         scars:      a   nearly   -   invisible,   small   white   scar   along   his   right   eyebrow,   from   an   old   piercing.   a   variety   of   small,   unremarkable   scars   along   his   arms      +      hands.         clothing   style:      favours   practical,   comfy   clothing.   almost   always   found   in   blue   jeans      +      a   comfy   t   -   shirt,   complete   with   a   worn   -   in,   comfy   leather   jacket   he’s   owned   since   he   was   twenty3.   if   he   has   to   wear   long   sleeves,   they   end   up   rolled   up   near   his   elbows.   favours   a   neutral   palette.

𝟬𝟬𝟰.      𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾.   

occupation:      deputy   sheriff      @      glen   ellen   police   station.   formerly,   a   police   officer      +      a   detective   with   the   department.         education:      finished   high   school,   never   sought   further   education.         religion:      lapsed   catholic.         socioeconomic   standing:      middle   class.         habits:      staring   off   into   space.   gnawing   at   hangnails      +      dry   spots   on   his   lips.   avoiding   eye   contact.   cracking   his   knuckles.   chain   -   smoking      +      drinking   more   when   stressed,   frustrated.         ambitions:      currently,   to   send   the   sick   bastard   who   killed   abigail   whittaker      +      caroline   jenkins   to   jail.   otherwise,   to   keep   being   a   good   dad      +      to   keep   serving   the   community   that’s   always   looked   out   for   him.

𝟬𝟬𝟱.      𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒.

mbti:      isfj.         enneagram:      8w9,   the   bear.         element:      earth.         temperament:      choleric.         character   inspirations:      charlie   swan,   twilight.   luke   danes,   gilmore   girls.         deadly   sin:      wrath.         heavenly   virtue:      humility.         anthems:      no   light,   no   light,   by   florence      +      the   machine.   (don’t   fear)   the   reaper,   by   blue   oyster   cult.   northern   attitude,   by   noah   kahan.   house   of   the   rising   sun,   by   lauren   o’connell.

𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾.

tba.

[bludthirst]

𝖣𝖤𝖢𝖫𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖥𝖨𝖤𝖣:         #𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬,   𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘   𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘   𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚   𝗜𝗡   𝗔   𝗕𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘      !

𝟬𝟬𝟭.      𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝗌.

name:      nikolas   gage   tyrell.         nicknames:      nik,   niko.         age:      twenty7.         date   of   birth:      april   16th,   1997.         place   of   birth:      glen   ellen,   california,   usa.         nationality:      american.         gender      +      pronouns:      demi   man,   he/him.         orientation:      bisexual,   biromantic.         zodiac:      aries.

𝟬𝟬𝟮.      𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗅.

mother:      alicia   catherine   king.         father:      leonard   peter   tyrell.         siblings:      a   younger   brother,   twenty4   -   twenty6.   wc   to   come.         marital   status:      single.         children:      lyra   elisabeth   tyrell,   six.   daughter.         extended   family:      two   aunts   on   his   mother’s   side,   whom   he’s   incredibly   close   with      +      who   played   a   major   role   in   raising   him.         pets:      a   two   year   old   great   dane,   called   scooby.

𝟬𝟬𝟯.      𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒.

hair:      black,   about   a   3b   curl.   closely   cropped      +      kept   short.         eyes:      dark   brown,   with   a   ring   of   dimmed   gold   around   the   pupils.   almond   shaped,   slight   downturn   at   the   outer   corners.   framed   by   dark,   thick   lashes.         height:      six   foot,   one   inch.         build:      mesomorph         ;         very,   very   athletic.   most   muscle   definition   in   his   arms,   core      +      back.   broad   shoulders,   tapered   waist.         scent:      very   fresh         —         creed’s   silver   mountain   water.   other   notes   include   peppermint,   just   a   little   hit   of   eucalyptus,      +      dove   soap.         dominant   hand:      right.         allergies:      none.         distinguishing   features:      defined   musculature.   a   smile   as   bright   as   the   sun,   twice   as   dazzling.   a   small   mole   at   the   base   of   his   throat.         tattoos:      twin   black   bands   around   his   left   bicep.   arabic   script   for   ‘beloved’   on   his   right   collarbone.   lyra’s   date   of   birth   in   roman   numerals   on   his   right   wrist.         piercings:      his   left   earlobe,      +      right   nostril.            scars:      a   long,   thin   white   scar   on   the   outside   of   his   right   forearm.   minor   burn   scars   all   over   his   hands      +      arms.         clothing   style:      very,   very   casual         ;         big   fan   of   comfort   over   style.   crewnecks,   always.   t   -   shirts   are   usually   ungodly   levels   of   tight.   when   he’s   lounging   around   the   house,   he’ll   be   in   sweatpants   but   if   he’s   going   out,   he’ll   always   go   straight   for   his   worn   -   in   levis.   lots   of   activewear   as   well.

𝟬𝟬𝟰.      𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾.   

occupation:      firefighter.         education:      graduated   from   a   local   university   with   a   bachelors’   degree   in   business.      religion:      lapsed   catholic.         socioeconomic   standing:      middle   class.         habits:      cracking   his   knuckles,   neck,      +      back   when   stressed.   tapping   on   any   available   surface.   mindless   humming.   tugging   at   his   hair   when   frustrated.   running   his   tongue   along   his   teeth      +      the   insides   of   his   cheeks.         ambitions:      being   the   best   father   he   can   to   his   daughter,      +      making   sure   he’s   always   available   when   she   needs   him.

𝟬𝟬𝟱.      𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒.

mbti:      esfj.         enneagram:      6w7,   the   buddy.         element:      fire.         temperament:      sanguine.         character   inspirations:      kevin   ball,   shameless.   sam   obisanya,   ted   lasso.   derek   morgan,   criminal   minds.   jackson   marchetti,   sex   education.         deadly   sin:      envy.         heavenly   virtue:      charity.         anthems:      electric   love,   by   børns.   stargazing,   by   the   neighbourhood.   brazil,   by   declan   mckenna.   beautiful   boy   (darling   boy),   by   john   lennon.   locked   out   of   heaven,   by   bruno   mars.

𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾.

tba.

[bludthirst]

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀:         open         ! 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲      +      𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲:         bake      +      brew,   approximately   9   am.

“      𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾   𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄      ?      ”         dazzling   smile,   this   side   of   toothy         —         steaming,   styrofoam   takeout   cup      +      baked   -   good   -   greasy   paper   bag   exist   as      identical   twins      to   the   ones   she   already   bears.         “      i   don’t   know   how   i’ve   managed   to   double   up,   but   it’d   be   a   shame   to   see   it   go   to   waste.   you’d   agree,   wouldn’t   you      ?      ”         (      walk   them   into   a   foregone   conclusion,   why   don’t   you      ?      )

[bludthirst]

𝖽𝗎𝗌𝗄𝗒   𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄   𝖺𝗍   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒   𝗍𝗂𝗉   𝗈𝖿   𝗁𝗂𝗌   𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾,      the   colour   of   premature   besottal         —         his   gaze   has   been   focused,   almost   solely,   on   her   frame   from   the   moment   he      collapsed      in   bean   bag         /         when   prompted,   his   smile   turns   something   impossibly   eager.         “      so,   so   good         —         like,   seriously.   incredible.      ”

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 : closed + @bludthirst ! 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : yvette's parents garage , yvette + beckett !

𝗕𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗢𝗨𝗧 leaving a barefooted yvette in their wake. chords travel the old rugged floor, amplifiers and instruments scattered along the walls. leaving the pair in a gutted garage. ❝ so        —        what'd you think ? ❞ hands swinging the chorded microphone slowly.

[bludthirst]

𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾𝖽,   𝗇𝗈𝗍   𝖺   𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖼𝗅𝖾   𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌   𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇   𝗁𝖾   𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌      down         ;         genuine   spark   of   surprise   that   she’s   not   tapping   a   patent   -   leather   toe   at   him.         “      your   face’ll   get      stuck      like   that   if   you’re   not   careful.      ”         gnashing   teeth   will   only   get   her   so   far,      +      he’s   weathered   far   worse.

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 : closed + @bludthirst ! 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : open , kiara + open !

❝ 𝗖𝗔𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢 𝗠𝗘 a favour ? ❞ kiara offers up the most saccharine smile, snarling teeth hidden behind closed lips. ❝ take a fucking picture sweetheart, it'll last longer. ❞

[bludthirst]

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄   𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐   𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌,   𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾      +      painstakingly   judgmental.   for   all   the   posturing   in   the   world,   he’s   easy   to   read         /         thoughts,   now,   are   splashed   in   the   curl   of   a   lower   lip,   the   vicious   divertment   that   twinges   at   his   features.      fuckin’   wanker.         “      sounds   like   a      you      problem,   princess.      ”

location: anywhere, in a queue

a light pinch of the brows as a disdainful gaze scans the person next to him from the corner of his eye, head to toe. "you are..." he starts flatly, casting a haughty look down at them, "standing far too close to me."

[bludthirst]

𝗂𝗍'𝗌   𝖺𝗇   𝗈𝗅𝖽   𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇,   𝖻𝗎𝗍   𝗂𝗍   𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌   𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁   𝖺   𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖽   -   𝗇𝖾𝗐   𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖻:      he   can   still   taste   it,   soured   lukewarm   coffee   coating   the   backs   of   his   teeth.   hadn’t   seen   anything   quite   as   brutal   until   caroline   jenkins,   matted   blonde      +      claret   awash,   innermost   viscera   on   gruesome   display.      (      first   gag   had   took   him   by   surprise         —         ducked   far   away   before   it      really      set   in,   before   he’d   doubled   over      +      pitiful   contents   of   his   stomach   had   decorated   a   sparse   flowerbed.      )      miserable,   unfurling   scene   is   a   haunting   double   feature   to   that   of   a   decade   ago,   with   an   added   complication.   the   nausea   that   roils,   uneasy,   is      less      about   the   scene   now,      +      far   more   for   the   bleak   distress   that   has   devoured   penelope   entirely.         “      honey,   i   know   you   want   to   be   with   her.   i’m   so,   so   sorry.      ”         her   tears   yank   at      fraught   heartstrings         —         selfish,   awful   thought:   at   least   eloise   will   never   lose   a   sibling,   won’t   feel   herself   fracture   into   two   like   this.         “      like   i   said,   i’ll   get   you   a   coffee.   just         …         come   with   me,   please.   away   from   all   of   this.      ”

TONES CATCH HER SENSES , gruff and perhaps not what she needed , but blues flicker towards the sound on their own accord . she left alone , the words of officers , the words of people , scattered around her were silenced by the mind numbing pain , the only thing she see's behind her lids when they flutter closed ( the sting of tears too harsh to keep them open ) is abigail , stuck in a loop , a never ending cycle of pain that she cannot , will not escape . ❝ i can't leave her . ❞ she whispers brokenly , utterly useless in the matter at hand . not allowed beyond the yellow tapes , so close and yet so far from the figure that was once so full of life . ❝ why can't i be with her ? ❞ as if she were still alive , though penelope knew she wasn't , she understood that , but it was her sister . chest raises and falls as a gasping breath breaks forth , a heavy droplet making it's way from her jaw to the collar of her shirt .

[bludthirst]

𝗂𝗍'𝗌   𝖺𝗅𝗅   𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒   𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍      +      𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇   𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌,      the   press   of   incautious   fingertips   against   skin   that   sears         ;         alchemy,   the   way   they   draw   together.      (      do   all   lovers   feel   like   they’re   inventing   something      ?      )      holy   communion   is   first   discovered   in   the   hollow   juncture   between   sacred   collarbone      +      profane   drag   of   bitten   mouth,   garlands   of   dark,   flowering   marks         —   -      some   kind   of   cosmic   joke,   that      preacher’s   daughter      coaxes   some   kind   of   understanding   of   religion   from   the   godless.         “      pretty   when   you   say   my   name.      ”         lowly   purr,   he’ll   wind   strands   of   inky   black   around   his   fingers,   tug   at   it      softly      enough   to   provide   access   to   the   column   of   her   throat.   kiss   dropped   to   that   delicate   space   at   the   very   base      —   -         “      pretty   when   you   sleep   in      my      bed.   prettiest   when   you’re   all   over   me,   though.      ”

FROM BEHIND OCCUPIED LIPS , a hum escapes , lost between a giggle and a moan , allowing to separate — a whisper of breath as mocha eyes search features , eyes dancing as fingers sweep . pads of features move across the swell of his cheeks , across the dip of his jaw , until she can turn him . what started as something to irritate her father , and yet as her lips press into the dip above his collarbone , creeping higher towards his ear , unequivocally , she ensnared for good , everything she was , is his . ❝ yeah ? ❞ lips close around the lobe of his ear , nose nudging at the join of his jaw . ❝ when else do you think i'm pretty , baby ? ❞ questioned in a way he taught her , pretty words , devilish smiles , fingers tapping sweetly against his skin .

[bludthirst]

𝗌𝗁𝖾   𝗐𝗈𝗇'𝗍   𝖺𝖽𝗆𝗂𝗍   𝗂𝗍,   𝗁𝗈𝗐   𝖼𝗒𝖺𝗇   𝗁𝖺𝗌   𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽      her   bobbing   head.      (      unconscious   study   made,   she’s   found   herself   adapting   to   the   coy   cut   of   her   smile      /      pitter   -   patter   of   her   pulse   trips   over   itself   when   she’s   painted   in   sunset   watercolour,      +      it   feels   like   being   doomed   all   over   again.   like   a   sugar   rush   in   your   back   molars,   a   maddening   vibration   that      starts      +      ends      with   sweetness   melting   all   over   your   tongue.      )      her   smile   grows,   stretches   well   into   widened   eyes   when   assent   comes      +      she   sits.         “      thank   you.   do   you   want   a   sip      ?      it’s   a   bit   sweet,   but         —      ”         cora   nudges   her   mug   forward,      +      she’ll   say   it’s      unconscious      when   the   rim   that   glimmers   with   the   faded   print   of   lip   balm   ends   up   facing   the   other.      (      for   what   it’s   worth,   it   mostly   is.      divine   thrill   is   all   hers.         )         “      i   bet   you’ve   had   a   day   as   long   as   i   have.         —         oh,   i’m   alright.   just         …         big   day.   grim,   really.   you’d   think   it’d   wear   off,   but   it   never   does.      ”         monologue   punctuated   by   self   -   aggravandizing   shake   of   her   head,   something      rueful      playing   at   the   corners   of   countenance.         “      don’t   mind   me   being   morbid.   how’s   your   day   been      ?      ”

its late, nearing midnight now, and kate nearly pours too much coffee into marty's cup, too busy staring over at the table which houses, probably, the most gorgeous woman she's ever seen. its akin to a bug - a nagging, itching bite - or the pure spiteful arrow of cupid, that keeps her stumbling, her heart rate picking up as she rounds the corner of the diners long bartop. heading to the booth of the woman who seems to suddenly hold her very fate in her palms, kate can feel herself shake just a tad; that sort of nervous energy that keeps you so on your toes its nauseating. so she's nearly jumping out of her skin when the sweet voice attached to that beautiful face, asks her to stay, to sit. and her legs nearly give out because - one, it's been nearly a twelve hour shift - and two, holy shit. "o-of course." and she refills the coffee with slightly shaky hands before sitting. she goes back to what the other had said before, that it's been strange, and has to ask - "are you alright? i-is there anything i can do?"

[bludthirst]

𝗂𝗍'𝗌   𝖺   𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅   𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾,   𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌   𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽   𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽         ;         she’s   learnt   it   well.         “      take   a   look.      ”         spine   twists,   an   elegant   side   -   step   to   clear   the   bonnet   of   her   car.         “      it   needs   a      bit      of   attention,   don’t   you   think      ?      ”         mascara   is   a   sooty   smudge,   lower   petal   catches   on   one   sharp   canine.      lesson   one,   in   shameless   seduction.

EYES LIKE GLASS MOVE DOWNWARD , as if unable to be stopped , she knew what she was doing . hell , he knew what she was doing . ❝ in . . . ? ❞ he repeats , like a question as left brow rises to match . rampant thoughts of smudged finger prints on skin , her skin , are shaken away as he steps closer , head jerking towards the left , as if to tell her to move .

[bludthirst]

𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾   𝗎𝗇𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖽   𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗅   𝗍𝗈   𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽.      secular   world,   begins      +      ends   in   sterile   white,   murmured   apologies   that   ring   uncomfortably   hollow   to   anyone      who   just   doesn’t   fuckin’   get   it.      only   so   many   scenes,   so   many   bodies,   that   you   can   cast   appraisingly,   funereally   critical   eye   over   before   flesh   becomes   flesh      +      a   wound   is   a   goddamned   wound         /         special   circumstances   exist,   of   course.      this   is   one.      “      not   particularly.      ”         what’s   the   point,   in   nectarous   pretense      ?      theirs   is   a   grim   universe.   manila   files      +      multitudes   of   unimaginable   horror,   nausea   has   stopped   settling   like   a   stone   into   the   base   of   her   belly   when   faced   with   mangled   flesh.      would   it   make   a   difference,   if   it   did      ?      “      she   was,   uh.      a   mess,      medically   speaking.      what   i   can   say,   though         —      ”         +      she’ll   lean   forward,   almost   conspiratorial.      isn’t   it,   to   speculate      ?      “      it   wasn’t   the   asphyxia   that   killed   her.      ”      sips   at   coffee,   relishing   in   the   inferno   burn   down   the   line   of   her   throat.   easy   to   shut   up,   when   there’s   fire   scorching   all   the   way   down.

something　still　nocturnal　resides　within,　whether　or　not　it's　the　station　as　a　body　or　andie's　seclusion.　inhabits　four　walls　(　a　ticking　clock　where　time　doesn't　change　),　hours　pass　through　to　the　second　where　she　doesn't　know　when　dusk　turned　to　dawn.　it　flattens　against　building,　suffocates　it,　while　andie　lives　inside.　　note:　would　claw　her　way　out,　if　she　was　able.　　“　──　mornin',　sleep　well?　”　　hoarse,　rasp　against　jugular.　knows　she　didn't,　but　that's　besides　the　point.　hasn't　spoke　in　some　hours,　where　words　drip　as　if　they're　foreign.　makes　a　mental　note　to　look　forth,　smile　on　lips;　again,　newly　placed,　hands　finding　comfort　round　cup,　scent　filling　nostrils.　takes　one,　two,　then　three　sips,　narrow　of　eyes　in　other's　direction　before　head　shakes.　　“　unfortunately,　i　know　as　much　as　you　do,　cora.　”　　nickname　rolls　from　tip　of　tongue,　some　ease　to　informality,　　“　speakin'　of,　anything　come　from　your　end?　y'know　…　”　　ivories　find　residency　within　lesser　brim,　as　if　to　search　for　right　words.　hot　topic　of　conversation　throughout　whole　town,　but　she　still　finds　it　hard.　　“　──　medically,　i　guess.　”

[bludthirst]

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀:         closed,   for      @horrifcs. 𝗳𝗼𝗿:         tristan   lewett      ﹠      penelope   whittaker. 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲      +      𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲:         early   morning,   their   place.

𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍   𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗌   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗌   𝗈𝖿   𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗇   𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗌,      casts   the   whole   room   in   buttery   light         —         he’s   so   heartachingly   fond   of   these   precious   moments,   where   he   wakes   only   moments   earlier   than   she   does.      so   youthful   in   peaceful   slumber,      it’s   a   shame   to   break   it   when   he   can’t   help   but   press   a   kiss   to   the   tip   of   her   nose.         “      rise      +      shine,   darlin’.      ”

[bludthirst]

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀:         closed,   for      @horrifcs. 𝗳𝗼𝗿:         jasper      mitchells      ﹠      felicity   mitchells. 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲      +      𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲:         mid   -   morning,   felicity's   house.

𝗄𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀   𝗂𝗌   𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾   𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀   𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇   𝗈𝗎𝗍   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐      when   it   comes   to   them         ;         is   it   really   breaking   into   her   house   if   she’s   come   to   expect   it      ?         “     delivery.      ”         slow   drawl   around   overchewed   gum,   the      offerings      in   question   include:      a   half   -   empty   pack   of   marlboro   reds,   two      (      extra   -   strong      )      cappuccinos,      +      an   assortment   of   baked   goods,   just      this      side   of   too   greasy.

[bludthirst]

𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀:         closed,   for      @petr1fy. 𝗳𝗼𝗿:         jasper      mitchells      ﹠      gabe   mitchells. 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲      +      𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲:         midday,   glen   ellen   library.

“      𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇'         —      𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽   𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗅   𝗍𝗈   𝗆𝖺𝗃𝗈𝗋   𝗍𝗈𝗆      !      ”            vocals   jar   against   eerie   quiet   of   the   library         —   -         it   earns   him   a   thrilling   glare   from   librarian   older   than   the   fuckin’   dinosaurs   themselves,   over   the   top   of   tortoiseshell   spectacles.      filthy   degenerate,      he’s   sure   her   glare   screams.   attention   redirects,   as   it   always   has,   to   younger   sibling:         “      dinner   at   fee’s   tonight.   you   in      ?      the   whole,   y’know,      dead   girl      thing’s   got   everyone   rattled.   harps   saw   it      +      everything.      ”

[bludthirst]

𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗍   𝗈𝖿   𝗁𝖾𝗋   𝗉𝖺𝗅𝗆   𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗌   𝗍𝗁𝖾   𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗏𝖾   𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇   𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖺'𝗌   𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌,      reassuring   circles   traced         ;         forgive   her   if   she   clutches   her   daughter   a   little   closer.      (      clearly,   terror   hasn’t      just      weighed   heavily   on   her.      )         “      work   ran   late,   sweetheart,   i’m   sorry.   i   should’ve   called.      ”            kiss   stamped   to   the   crown   of   nova’s   head,   she’ll   pull   back   just   enough   to   tuck      stray   strand      behind   her   ear,   offer   softest   of   smiles.         “      i’m   home   now,   though,      +      i’m   not   going   anywhere.   in   fact,   i   was   thinking         …         how   does      pizza      +      a   movie   marathon   sound      ?      your   picks,   all   night.      ”

the amount she had heard her mom's voice fill the quiet of the house, nova launched herself off the couch in their living room and to the front door and immediately into evangeline, wrapping her arms around the older. " mom, " her tone was one of relief as she sought comfort from the adult. " where have you been ? "

[bludthirst]

𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀   𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾   𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌   𝗈𝗇   𝗁𝗂𝗌   𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗅,      blunted   half   -   moon   shapes   of   bitten   nails   will   dig   into   his   palms         /         faintest   pressure   of   tommy’s   hand   on   his   shoulder   is      remarkably      grounding.         “      fuckin’   lucky   i   don’t   knock   their   teeth   out.      ”

location: glen ellen pub

“just ignore ‘em, jas.” tommy pleads, stepping in front of his brother with a hand on his shoulder to turn him away, as a couple of assholes start disparaging them, as always, just for being mitchells. “it’s not worth it.”

@bludthirst