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[ines-perez]

with: @rhysles​​ where: shining ball, outside.

Ines would never consider herself a smoker, but she did allow for the odd allowance. A particularly stressful day? Tick. Drinking socially? Tick. It’d carried through from her days working various bars, standing in back alleys with her co-workers as they share cigarettes, count tips and discussed the types of people they’d served that night (and how many numbers they’d been passed from people fawning over the short shorts).

Thats how she found herself here, lingering outside, unlit cigarette sat between two fingers as she gnawed softly against a red lip. Stealing one from a friend inside, she’d failed to pick up a lighter, and the pickings of people out here were few and far between. 

Yet, any of those people would still be better than the person she found herself wandering slowly towards. Maybe it was the five shots she’d had since her arrival ( or the half bottle of bourbon she’d shared with Theo necked without Theo getting as much as a sniff before arriving ) but something told her this was a good idea. They’d gotten over the awkward stage when he’d literally dropped a box at her feet, had they not? 

( Probably not, but rational thinking was left at the bottom of an empty glass a solid hour ago. )

“Hey.” She murmurs softly, gaze peeking through the mask that graced her face as she attempted to test the water with the person that had become her latest stranger. Maybe it was a terrible idea, but something had drawn her into his vicinity. “You uh, got a light?”

Suddenly, she felt exposed. Too exposed, but she managed to shrug it off. Liquid confidence really was on her side.

[ines-perez]

Ana De Armas in Entering Red (2019)

[ines-perez]

with: @brightonnature​ where: seating area, the shining ball. 

“Ok, but—” she begins, hand reaching to pick up Brightons mask, examining it carefully. “Where did you find this? Because I feel like I haven’t made near enough effort.” 

(And that was saying something, because she’d changed seven times before she’d gotten ballsy enough to wear a dress that left little to the imagination.)

“But then, who are you supposed to be?” 

[ines-perez]

with: @beckshudson​ where: shining ball, outside. 

Fresh air. 

Not that she’s sure its all that fresh with the cigarette thats sat between her fingers (a bad habit she picked up whilst socialising). 

Still, she makes it look graceful, and it gives her a moment of respite to people watch. 

A flick of ash down on the ground beside her perch, and her attention is drawn to the male perched somewhere nearby, her head cocking to the side as she watches him for a moment. 

“I think I know you.” She remarks softly as her gaze meets his, he sure seemed familiar, but most people in this godforsaken town did. 

Bold of her to expose herself as such, she’s been hiding in the shadows for months. Fuck it, it’s at a party that she’s hopeful most wont remember, she can’t hide forever, she’s a little more drunk than she’d intended to be, and she’s only a solid 74% sure she knows his face. 

[ines-perez]

with: @elenaalvarez​​​ where: shining ball, dance floor. 

“ELENA—” Ines finds herself calling over the music once she’s spotted her friend from the sideline of the dance floor. Shuffling past the lobster, the Harley Quinn and the.... well, she’s not sure what that ones supposed to be. She finds herself within touching vicinity of Elena, her hand holding onto the others arm as she steadies herself. 

“Jesus—” she remarks, though not in a remotely religious sense. “You should wear this to work, you could probably retire in one night.” 

[ines-perez]

with: @dakotaburton​​ where: shining ball, bathroom.

If there was one thing Ines was doing tonight, it was keeping herself well stocked at the bar. The moment that carefree buzz felt like it was faltering called for another shot of something, which is probably why when she spotted the blonde goddess topping up her makeup, she felt it necessary to begin some good old fashioned bathroom girl talk. 

Perching herself next to the woman at the large mirror, she digs through her bag, seeking the red lipstick that she’d graced herself with tonight. “What’re you dressed as?” She asks, glancing sideways, smile plastered upon her face as she leans closer to the mirror, lipstick pressing against her lip. 

[ines-perez]

with: @theomccrae​ where: perae house, pre-party.

“I don’t think I want to go.” Ines calls from her own room across the hall from Theos, hand holding up two more dress options to the mirror. 

Three if you count the one she’s got half zipped up over her body. 

Her head cocks to one side in the mirror, skin raw from the tape she’d put on and tugged back off twice as she’d taken off the open front red dress, indecisive and concerned. The pit of her stomach ached with an anxiety of the potential at being in a room with all of these people she’d once known. 

The only saving grace seemed to be the red mask that sat on the side, but then she knows it’s not like the movies, real life Austin Ames isn’t going to say he thinks he knows her, and with that her saving grace was lost. 

Feet find themselves padding across the hall, entering Theos room as she holds up the two options. “I should just stay here, watch making a murderer.” 

[ines-perez]

Honestly? The question catches her off-guard because she’s not sure which she is, a mix of the two? Wandering aimlessly, whilst still feeling like the bad guy in town? Maybe she’d mirrored it too close to real life, canvassed herself upon her halloween costume. 

“Just hot.” She remarks softly, a laugh escaping barely parted lips, the answer one that she couldn’t take seriously. 

“I’ll be whichever people want me to be. What about you?” 

“So,” Ronnie approached Ines, “are you-” they gestured to the ears on top of her head. “-like the spawn of Red Riding Hood and the Wolf?” They narrowed their eyes a little, trying to figure it out. “I mean, you look damn hot… I just wanted to figure out the background here.”  @ines-perez

[ines-perez]

“Huh—” Ines begins, momentary confusion (probably the several drinks it’s taken her to feel comfortable in that dress - feeling exposed was not generally her forte). Though she quickly catches on and follows it through with a laugh, her hand raising to point a finger at the tinies wisp of an ear sat within her own hair. “Maybe I’m the big bad wolf.” 

Sure felt that way sometimes. 

Her finger drops, pressing against red lip as she follows with a drawn out ‘shhh’ before a shrug rolls off of her shoulders. “What about you, wheres Buzz?” 

closed starter for @ines-perez​ at the shining ball

“So, do you have a big bad wolf with you?” Jasper asked, taking a sip of his drink as he was mingling around while Gwen went to discuss a few things with her customers. 

[ines-perez]

••• INES PEREZ IS LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD 🐺🐺

Ines wears a red dress with cut out front and bare back, yet covered by a red hood (that she’s sure to leave on a chair somewhere whilst dancing), a barely there red mask graces her face, and in her hair sits the teeniest pair of wolf ears. 

She is accompanied by nobody in particular, but spends the evening with friends. 

[ines-perez]

“Yes you are!” Ines answers, a tease behind her words as Liesl says she’s not judging. However, Ines does not care much if she is, wading through the pumpkin patch felt like all of her worries had been left at the gate and she could release her inner child for a solid 20 minutes whilst picking out the perfect orange ball.  

“— Because it’s fun.” She hums, knees bending as she leans down to brush fingers daintily at one of the pumpkins, before discarding it over a dent on the underside. “And besides, have you never had pumpkin soup? Theres so much more to it than something you can get from dollar tree.” 

what: mini plot starter where: pumpkin patch  who: open - assume a friendship for this at minimum please

“I’m not judging,” Liesl promised, cradling the hot chocolate in her hands as they walked through the rows of pumpkins, apparently looking for the perfect one. Though honestly, Liesl had no idea what the requirements for a ‘perfect pumpkin’ were. “I just don’t understand the appeal of pumpkin carving.” Her Scottish accent clung to her words as a gentle shrug fell from her shoulders. “I mean… it’s a lot of work for something that you could just as easily buy made of plastic.” It wasn’t as if the stores weren’t full of jack-o-lantern of all shapes, sizes and colors. 

[ines-perez]

ANA DE ARMAS Louis Vuitton Womenswear Spring/Summer 2023 | October 04, 2022

[ines-perez]

THEO MCCRAE

-

Okay. When most of her life revolving around fists to fists, blood and tears, the resign Ines has to her suggestion to stay in brings an otherworldly peace to Theo’s mind. A simple okay never happens in her world. Nothing is just okay. Nothing just is – yet with Ines, here, it can be. She ought to vocalize it, and maybe one day she will, but the Chicago native can feel it without hearing it: Ines gets it beyond anyone else, and that’s okay.

Remaining in a seated position, Theo blows raspberries with a huff of air and looks to the ceiling. “My day was… average. I actually stopped to look at some flowers today for one whole minute,” she admits with a sly smirk creeping to one corner of her lips. “If you told me six months ago that I would appreciate fucking… daffodils, I’d say you’re on one.”

Yet she pauses, internally debating, before she stretches out a leg and pokes her friend’s thigh with the tip of her sock. “What about you? Sounds like you stayed in for most of the day.”

- 

Ines shuffles, attempting to straighten her spine into a more comfortable position. There was definitely something about throwing yourself on the ground and staying there, but she knew her body wouldn’t be as forgiving if she held the acrobat like bend for too long, and the sensation of pins growing in the base of her foot told her to move. 

Settling again, her head turns to face Theo, tired eyes resting upon that of the one next to her, a laugh erupting from her that sounds almost like she’s actually lost her mind, skull threatening to hammer to the ground as her head matches the same enthusiasm as her laugh. Though, it becomes quickly controlled as she regains some sense of sanity. 

“Daffodils? Do you want to plant some out front?” She asks, teasing softly, but it’s purely harmless in nature. Ines would never mean harm. 

“Ha.” The brunette expels, her head shaking as her hands find her hair again, clinging to a clump for a moment in deep thought before letting go, again defeated. “I wish.” She answers finally. “Work, errands, my mother wanted groceries.” She hated grocery shopping, if there was an absolute given something that everyone needed, it was groceries. So many potential run-ins, exhausted her to her very core. 

“But, I found Bourbon, so.” 

And with that, grabby hands reach for the bottle. 

“and cigarettes.” A habit she rarely partook in, but nothing quite washed down the taste of bourbon on the lips like a deep inhale of nicotine. 

[ines-perez]

Tired. Ask her how she was and that was the only response she had these days. As if taking over a business and being thrown in the deep end wasn’t enough of a task. Ines was still sneaking around town, her head glancing over her shoulder at every new street corner, a ghost of the former self that would race down these streets, laughter echoing from the buildings, a teen without responsibility. Though, it often crept up on her that she’d become a little ignorant to what was truly looming, every day was another day ticked off but a shortening of the likelihood of not running into those very ghosts she used to run the town with.

She’d managed to avoid a face-to-face for the last 103 days, that was quite the accomplishment, she’s sure of it. Part of her thought this was it, some higher power was on her side and maybe the whole thing was a comfortable band aid — the problem was, the scab beneath didn’t heal and only a fool would believe they were out of the deep end.

Still, there was an exhaustion that had set deep in her bones, between putting on the bravest of happy faces at the office — she was the boss after all, she felt it necessary, leave the problems at the door, all of that —, her father’s ailing health, the fact that being back in Bradford Springs still felt foreign to her and she couldn’t shake it, the constant sneaking around, the way she still couldn’t face anything that reminded her of Luis.

(All that money spent on therapy and she’s beginning to think it was pointless, the woman that was fine in Chicago seemed to be barely holding onto sanity, Bradford Springs felt like her very own asylum).

Is that how she found herself here? Early morning and stuck behind a hoard of crypt keepers in the postal office, coffee in one hand, parcel in the other. She doesn’t even know the contents, had waved her mother off when she’d pulled up at her parents’ house in the morning, a quick air kiss as she threw it on the seat beside her, small talk that concluded when she agreed to dinner later on in the week.

She sighs at the never-ending queue ahead of her, a flick of her wrist to wake her Apple watch tells her she’s been here all of three minutes.

(For someone patient, this place set in a looming dread, it was too busy, and if it wasn’t for how fragile he’d become she’s sure the neighbour of one of those she’d left behind would have picked her first from a line-up, however, he shuffled past her, foot dragging the ground on his way to the exit and the air she’d been holding onto excludes from her lungs).

Time continues to pass; a ding of the door and she’s now minding her own business whilst she clings to the dregs in the bottom of her cup. Her attention shifting from the envelopes on the side, to the surprisingly cute batch of stationary that had littered one of the shelves she’d ended up stuck at on her next three-step-shuffle.

Ines’ attention is absentmindedly wandering when the crashing noise behind her quickly grounds her, it’s enough to startle her ( yet another perk of sneaking around ), but she’s been here so many times in the past three months that she quickly finds composure as she flicks her head over her shoulder to view the commotion.

Her gaze quickly flits towards the ground, as though if she stares hard enough it won’t be real (or the floor will open and Bradford Springs own hole to hell will swallow her up — but then again, maybe this is hell).

Inhaling again, she regains composure as her gaze flits back up, taking sight of one Rhys Dunsmore. She’s sure she’s forgotten to speak, but the frost seems to thaw almost automatically when her gaze hits his, looking at him all these years later and it wasn’t pain she felt, maybe it hadn’t hit her yet, maybe she was about to fast-pass to that asylum, maybe she’d take a breath in three more seconds and realise the lack of oxygen was sending her delirious.

( Nope, none of those things )

It didn’t change. Her green set upon his steely blues and it felt like home. A sensation she hadn’t felt right up until that moment, and it causes her to smile, for a faint split second before she remembers what’s happening and her expression falls back into a haze of nothingness.  

Hi

She’s not sure what she expected from a first run in, but it wasn’t that, it’s a scenario she’s played countless times in her head, she had speeches written on placards, placed neatly on posts that lined her thoughts. “Hi.” She answers back as she once again remembers the basic human need to breathe, it drips in casual nature as her thumb begins to pick at the side of her coffee cup.

“I hope you’re not in a rush.” She remarks, attempting to fill the air with anything but what she thinks should be filling the air, her head tearing from him to glance around at everyone else. “Little busy this morning.”

@rhysles​​

WHO: @ines-perez​

WHERE: the post office 

          The brief, melodic chime of a bell rings out overhead but Rhys doesn’t even bother to spare a glance upward at the sound, too busy adjusting his grip on the oversized package in his arms as he pushes open the door to the post office with his shoulder so he can squeeze his way inside. He doesn’t even have time for this, not really; he’s got half an hour until he needs to be headed out to work, and even that’s with him counting on there being no traffic as he tries to maneuver his truck out of the tightly-parked streets downtown. The odds are slim, and it would be a hell of a lot easier to count on his luck if he weren’t on this side of town because he’d been sent the wrong package to begin with. But he’d found a beehive out behind the horse stalls at work one night a few weeks back, and with the temperature dropping rapidly as winter draws nearer, he’d decided he had no choice but to rehome the colony, and that meant he needed another hive to set up out back. It arrived on his doorstep yesterday, and he’d planned to bring his equipment with him to work tonight, but upon cutting open the box, he quickly realized he’d gotten one half the size he needed. A quick phone call to the company promised an exchange if he mailed the original nuc box back and, without any more free time coming up this week to make it into town, he’d hauled himself there today with very little time to spare.

          From the moment he steps inside, it’s apparent to Rhys that he’s made a mistake. The line, it would appear, is frustratingly and unexpectedly long for a random weekday afternoon, and with only one clerk running the desk — an elderly woman named Rhonda, one Rhys would recognize with fondness if it weren’t for the fact that he had somewhere to be and he knew her to be slow as molasses in January on the best of days — it’s clear he’ll be waiting in the queue for a while. Shit, he’s gonna be late, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll take the back roads, speed up and shave off a few minutes… 

          Sharp azure gaze flickers around the small, crowded room mindlessly as Rhys clutches the heavy box to his chest, drifting past various posters and signs littering the walls, spinning displays of postcards and packaging envelopes in all shapes and sizes. None of it is interesting enough to catch his attention longer than a few seconds, and he finds his sights wandering with vague curiosity toward the line of folks in front of him. It’s a small enough place to locals that it isn’t unlikely he might spot someone he knows, and though he’s never really been much for small talk, he can also be intensely impatient at times and he’ll gladly sacrifice his social distaste in favor of a distraction from what’s bound to be an inevitably long wait. Or at least he thinks so, anyway, until his eyes land on the silhouette directly in front of him. And fuck, he knows it’s stupid, it’s so stupid, but he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat in his chest. Sometimes… not always, not anymore, but sometimes… she just sneaks up into his mind like he’d only just seen her yesterday. He’s gotta stop getting tripped up over every brunette he sees, Jesus H. Christ. It’s getting pathetic. 

          ( No, it’s already there. ) 

          But then she’s turning her head, looking toward the door, and goddamnit, the last thing he wants to do in this moment is make a fucking fool of himself but here he is. Because it is her. It’s Ines, standing right there in front of him, or — or he’s fucking crazy. Maybe’s he’s crazy. And maybe it’s the shock or the fact that he’s so stunned at the sight of her that he forgets what he’s doing, but suddenly the box is slipping from his hands and crashing to the floor with a thud that echoes off the walls of the small space. Not as loudly as his howl, however, as the weight of the wooden hive inside the box crashes down against his foot. “Holy fucking sonuva—” By some grace of God, Rhys manages to swallow down the rest of the exclamation, steeling himself as he tries to toe the box off of his foot as casually as possible, as if he’d not just caused a scene that turned half the heads in the line, hers included. 

         Their eyes meet and Rhys swallows hard, rolls his shoulders and searches blindly for something to say. Lamely, he manages to spit out a single word. “Hey.”

[ines-perez]

Ana de Armas in DEEP WATER (2022) dir. Adrian Lyne

[ines-perez]

Ana de Armas On Her Voice for ‘Blonde’ and Bringing Marilyn Monroe To Life | Variety

[ines-perez]

FOX LENNON.

@ines-perez​ location: a park bench somewhere

-

Sitting next to Fox was almost as annoying as trying to fall asleep next to him. His left leg was bouncing up and down, sending small tremors through the park bench and making the chains that hung from his belt rattle slightly. He kept checking his phone over and over and then pushed it into the front jean pocket, keeping it there for good. For some reason, he was still thinking about the bank from earlier that day and how his guitar pick rolled right under a machine.  He clicked his tongue and moved to his feet, taking a lazy movement in front of the person who was sat next to him. “Have you ever thought about how banks are just libraries for money?” he asked her, because honestly he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “They keep the money stacked away and you gotta have a card to check it out. And they’re quiet too.” he mused, scrunching his face in thought. “Why are they so damn quiet?”

-

Ines had noticed the unsettled stature of the person next to her, but she was good to ignore it. She often found herself with expressing a similar sense of unease (hers however, often expressed itself through the fidgeting of a wedding ring that no longer sat upon her finger), and although part of her wondered what had gotten the stranger beside her seemingly worked up, she chose to ignore it. 

After all, it was none of her concern, and she had never been one to pry into the business of others. Especially strangers. 

Instead, she focused on the reason she was sat here herself, the Australian Shepherd dog zooming around the park as he burnt off some energy, soft smile gracing her features as she took in the fresh air. “Hm?” She hummed softly as her peace is broken by words, head flitting in direction of Fox. 

“An interesting take.” She remarks, offering him a smile as she seemingly thinks about it for a moment, “I always assumed they’re quiet so they don’t make mistakes. Concentration and all.”