#ft. peyton

[jawbrkrs]

𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏  𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓  𝒕𝒉𝒆  dust  had  settled  ,  soraya  still  couldn't  get  her  out  of  her  head  .  she  wanted  to  forget  her  ,  the  image  of  her  husbands  arm  around  her  waist  burned  into  her  mind  ,  and  all  she  could  think  about  was  if  she  missed  her  too  .  with  a  single  text  ,  soraya  now  found  herself  standing  at  the  other  woman's  door  ,  her  pride  reduced  to  a  puddle  at  her  feet  .  "  i  really  want  to  hate  you,"  she  began,  the  moment  the  door  swung  open  ,  her  words  fueled  by  a  determined  resolve  to  convey  her  point  before  she  lost  her  nerve  .  "  you  lied  to  me  for  months,  but—I  know  you  aren't  a  bad  person.  the  time  we  had  together  was  real  ,  and  the  way  you  looked  at  me—you  can't  fake  that  .  "  tears  pooled  in  brown  eyes  ,  blurring  the  edges  of  her  vision  ,  before  her  body  acted  on  its  own  accord  ,  lunging  forward  to  capture  the  other  woman's  lips  in  a  desperate  kiss  .  her  hand  cupped  the  familiar  face,  clinging  to  her  as  though  her  very  life  depended  on  it,  pouring  out  emotions  that  defied  the  limitations  of  language  .  "  I  need  to  know  how  you  feel  about  me  .  "  shaky  words  are  barely  above  a  whisper  as  she  pulled  away  . | @darlinghearts

[itsisla-dubois]

😡 + peyton

isla: idk why Ro is so upset but I know your mouth had something to do with this. isla: and you say I'm the bad influence for her 🙄 isla: I suggest you do two things: isla: 1. keep my name out of your mouth isla: 2. get your head out of your ass and be a better big brother. isla: au revoir and suck a dick 💋 isla: [HAS BLOCKED THIS NUMBER]

@pytndyer @lonelyhcart

[mickcallahan]

the man checked his watch as he stepped into the bar. it was before business hours, but he didn’t mind waiting, anything to escape the ugly reality waiting for him outside. the sound of nirvana playing through the speakers made him think twice about sticking around, but he pushed past the thought, settling onto one of the empty barstools. his eyes scanned the room for any sign of an employee. standing up, he reached behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, and poured himself a shot. it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to pay for it anyway. just as he took his seat again, the door to the back room swung open. the bar owner stepped out, catching him mid drink. mick placed his glass on the bar, offering a quick explanation “my bad, shoulda called first, didn’t mean to be buggin’ you” he then motioned to the whiskey “poured myself one. sorry about that too” his grin was anything but apologetic as he slid the extra glass her way “feel free to join me. ain’t nothing worse than drinking alone with nirvana playing in the background. by the way, you should always keep your door locked, l.a is full of freaks these days”

open to whomever / location: sip happens

Peyton was doing some spring housekeeping at the bar. A little bit of dusting, shredding old paperwork, doing inventory. The nineties playlist in the background was now playing a classic song from Nirvana in the background when she stepped out from the back room only to come face to face with someone in the bar. She rarely locked the door given that most of the town knew the business hours— not that she was ever strict about those. "Fuck sakes," the curse left her lips while her hand slammed down on her chest. "I didn't even hear you come in." She took a moment to collect herself before she moved towards the back of the bar. "Not open yet but I can make an exception." She'd wanted to go through the higher cabinets but knew how rickety her ladder was so an extra pair of hands could be of use. "What're you drinking?"

[starkrebellion]

core four pls come back the kids (me) miss you 😞😞

[stcined]

⊹ 𓂃 ｡ ‧ ₊ starter for @trcinwreck.

god,  he  was  so  infuriating  !  not  only  had  she  been  awoken  by  one  of  his  latest  conquests,  peyton  had  found  the  remnants  of  it  the  next  morning  on  the  kitchen  counter  of  all  places.  she  stared  at  the  offending  item  in  disbelief,  as  if  staring  at  it  long  enough  would  erase  it  out  of  existence.  she  grabbed  the  nearest  broom,  picking  up  the  pair  of  panties  on  the  counter  with  the  end  of  the  stick  as  though  they  were  contaminated  (  to  her,  they  were  !  ),  before  stomping  her  way  toward  his  room.  she  kicked  the  door  open,  hoping  it  would  be  loud  enough  to  wake  the  sleeping  idiot,  and  tossed  the  panties  straight  at  his  face.  she  let  the  broom  slip  out  of  her  hand,  making  a  mental  note  never  to  touch  it  again  either.  “honestly,  tj,  are  you  fucking  serious  ?” 

[damianovinciguerra]

who: @peytonhayes where: angel’s tijuana tacos

The scent of sizzling meat and fried onions curled through the cool night air, mingling with the faint traces of car exhaust and city grime. It was the kind of smell that stuck to your clothes, the kind that promised satisfaction in a way no overpriced, over-plated bullshit ever could. Damiano stood near the curb, hands tucked into the pockets of his dress slacks, watching as the guy behind the food cart worked the grill like an artist, grease popping under the fluorescent glow.

He barely glanced at the menu—he already knew what he wanted. “Uno al pastor, una asada, más salsa, por favor” he ordered, voice smooth despite the slight slur of whiskey still warming his blood.

It wasn’t until he stepped aside, waiting for his food, that he noticed her. A woman—poised but out of place, like she’d taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere she didn’t belong. Or maybe she belonged just fine, and he was the one reading too much into it. Either way, something about her caught his attention.

“You don’t look like the type to eat at a place where they don’t even have silverware,” he remarked, tilting his head slightly. Not judgmental, just observant. His smirk was lazy, the kind that could mean amusement or boredom—or both. “Let me guess—bad date, long shift, or just a craving you couldn’t shake?”

[itsisla-dubois]

an instinctive step back was taken as he removed his mascot head, her nose crinkling her usually elegant face. "then do it! what, do you need an invitation?" she snapped the fan closed; a small thworp rung out into the small bar space though was soon absorbed into all the other sounds of the night.

"yeah, you barely talk to me." ruffle adorned arms crossed across her chest followed by a small huff passing her lips. "about me seems to be another story. I believe you may have forgotten that I do hang out at ro's sometime and the apartment walls aren't exactly soundproof."

there'd usually never be a world where isla dubois cared about what people said about her (any press was good press after all), but when it jeopardized one of the only true friendships she had (no matter how chaotic it was) there was a feeling of having to defend it that followed. a feeling she did not want to have to confront again.

"then keep my name out of your mouth."

It was her voice too. It annoyed him. It was starting to get stuffy in his mascot head so he decided to pull it off while she spoke. "Oh, I'll pass alright." He said, clearly annoyed, as he combed his somewhat damp hair with his fingers.

Out of all of the friends his sister had - Isla was not his favorite. It was like a spit in the face of all the bullying the two endured by people like her. The stories he'd overhear in his own apartment were... something too.

"What are you talking about?" He asked in disbelief, "I don't prove you wrong in anything and I don't have a problem with you. I barely even talk to you." He could deliver his responses in a lighter way, but that took too much effort.

"If I had a problem with you Isla, I'd say it." And that didn't mean he wouldn't lie about the exact problem he had with her if he was forced to say it. @itsisla-dubois

[tysonhatch]

who: @peytonhayes where: peyton's apartment

He didn’t text. Didn’t call. Just knocked. Three slow, deliberate raps against her door. Not the kind that screamed urgency, but not the kind that said casual drop-in either. Just steady. Heavy with something unsaid.

Tyson stood in the hallway, dressed in a black suit that didn’t quite sit right on his frame—like it had been tailored for someone with straighter posture and a lighter soul. His tie hung loose around his neck, untied. He hadn’t managed to finish the job. Maybe he didn’t know how. Maybe he just didn’t want to. His stubble was gone, hair cut short in a way he hadn't had it since he left the corps.

The second she opened the door, he didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her with that hollow kind of exhaustion that couldn’t be slept off. His jaw was tight. His eyes red-rimmed but dry. He looked like he hadn’t cried, hadn’t screamed, hadn’t done a damn thing except endure. “I know it’s short notice,” he said, voice low and uneven like gravel underfoot. “But the funeral’s in an hour.” He hadn't even told her about Taylor, hadn't seen her since. But he figured she had heard.

He paused, thumb grazing over the seam of his palm—old habit, old scar. Still raw. “I can’t do it alone.” It wasn’t a plea, not in tone. Tyson didn’t beg. But his eyes—his eyes gave him away. Grief sat behind them like a storm in a bottle. Everything in him was one wrong question from shattering. He just didn’t know how to ask for anything without feeling like it cost him something. But he showed up. And for a man like him, that was everything.

“I just…” He swallowed. “I don’t want to hear my parents talk about her like they knew who she was.” A beat. “Come with me?”

[fadingmadness]

✦ ↬ closed starter ft @starsdrew ( peyton sawyer & brooke davis )

peyton had been stuck in this town for far too long for her liking. but she was finally getting the hang of everything. when she figured out that she couldn't get out of this place, she set up her own recording studio in the loft above where she was living, and everything felt almost like she was back home. almost. as she walked, she even spotted a place that looked familiar. so when she walked in, she just had to call out, "brooke?" with some slight hope pounding in her chest.

[vilisisms]

✧.*― peyton morgrave / closed starter / @mircges

"hey, hun, what can i getcha?" the bar manager asked the patreon on the other side of the bar. unfortunately one of her bartenders called out for the night and the club was thriving as usual, which meant they couldn't afford to be down a body, which also meant that she was stepping in.

[gisxlles]

if giselle could go back in time, she would request to have a suite on the first floor. the whole act of unloading boxes and suitcases and dragging them up to the third floor was burdensome, to say the least. opting for a lighter load this round, giselle walked down the hall, eyes following the breadcrumb - like trail of objects to the person responsible for the belongings. a face from her past turned towards her. "oh, um - yeah, of course!" she stumbles out, moving her small box under her arm. "hand me the box. i should be able to juggle both of them." her hand out to take the item from the other. "do you need me to take anything else or can you get the rest?"

if someone were to ask, peyton would easily lie about how many coffees she'd already had today. she didn't want to admit it but deep down, she knew she overdid it. her defense? she needed it. so it was no surprise she was felt a little jittery and was starting to panic a little. there were a few things she'd forgotten to bring in from her car and in an attempt to get it all in one trip, she accidentally left a trail of her belongings scattered in the hallway leading to her room. she was trying to balance everything out when a pair of footsteps was heard behind her and she quickly turned, not missing the way something else just fell out of the box in her hand, and smiled at the face in front of her. "could you, uh, maybe..." she didn't know how to explain herself and knew she probably looked a mess. the word she was looking for was help, but it was hard to get it out. "just a few things over there or uh, maybe you could.. hold this for a second?" she gestured to the box in hand, unsure what to do.

[badbandits]

“has anyone ever told you that you have a funny idea of romantic?” for peyton :)

"you don't think at home personal ice baths are romantic?"

it's not their fault the george's have a huge tub. more than enough space for them and regina both. "practice's left me sore, can't imagine you're much better. figured your back would make it worse." a smile, "i could light some candles if you want."

[gracecromwell]

11 + peyton

a song my muse would dedicate to yours

@pytndyer

[lonelyhcart]

💰 + peyton

"Pey,"

Voice soft, the way it always was when she was finally able to have an interaction with her brother after his big move.

" quoi! "

Caught off guard by his simple question, she asks, pulling her phone away from her ear to check the time. It's late, or rather early - around 3am. "You need how much?."

Rowan's mind raced, a whirlwind of questions swirling within her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she attempted to calculate the impossible: how many extra shifts would it take to recoup the sum he'd just requested? The answer.. Far too many.

" No, don't worry. I can do it, just give me a few seconds. "

She's sure if the tables were turned, he'd be the first to offer help without hesitation.

"I just sent it but it comes with a condition."

She pauses briefly, inhaling a deep breath as her free hand rubs some sleep from her eyes.

"You have to call me more, I miss you."

@pytndyer

[jawbrkrs]

𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈  𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔  ,  veiled  her  brown  eyes  as  they  fluttered  closed,  a  tidal  wave  of  guilt  crashing  over  her  .  of  course  he's  all  she's  ever  known  ,  yet  the  sour  taste  of  betrayal  clung  to  her  tongue  like  unripe  fruit  .  "  and  so  what  was  I  ?  an  experiment  to  just  say  you  tried  something  new  ?  "  voice  wavered  ,  reaching  out  into  the  silence  between  them  ,  desperate  for  something—anything—that  might  stitch  the  rift  tearing  her  apart  .   "  maybe  the  right  time  would  have  been  before  I  fell  in  —  "the  sentence  hung  there  ,  cut  off  by  the  jagged  edge  of  her  own  restraint  .  to  say  the  words  now  ,  when  everything  lay  in  ruins  ,  felt  like  salting  an  open  wound  .  "  I  —  I  don't  want  to  see  you  anymore  .  "

❝He's all I've ever KNOWN Sor.❞ The nickname felt TAINTED now, but it rolled off the tongue all the same in the end. Brows scrunched together at the way her voice ROSE, but she couldn't bring herself to shush her again. It felt WRONG. Like part of her WANTED to get caught by others. She deserved it. The guilt weighed heavy in the moment and she sure as HELL didn't think it would go away any time soon. ❝I tried.❞ It's LAME and it's not enough, but its true all the same. Eyes darted down and hands FIDGETED with the material of her dress. ❝I really did. I just couldn't .... find the right time I guess.❞

[clarexflannery]

Closed: @pytndyer

Location: Abandoned beach entry.

In between trying to build her portfolio and taking commission work, Clare found herself exploring Aurora Bay. During her explorations, she discovered some hidden jewels and spots that were perfect for finding seclusion. Even though she was enjoying being back around her makeshift family, she still desired some time alone. This was a bit challenging with a baby's high-pitched cry every few hours. One of her recent finds was a decrepit pier that extended out into the ocean. "Um...hi?" she said as she carefully balanced her way across. "Who are you?"