let's go to perfect places...

                  𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜

𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛               𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚢             𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊                 𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊             𝚓𝚞𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚝             

---------------------------     𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢?    ----------

there was nothing camila hated more than the cold, despite her forcibly accustomed winters in new york she often flew down to miami for the bitter cold, only popping back home for holidays or an event.. so it was safe to say that the few months centralia resembled the state of alaska were miserable. there was only so many re-runs of housewives she could watch before she was muttering the fight scenes verbatim in her sleep while an empty bottle of wine lay idle on the coffee table. 

she’d left her home to find a different blonde this time, one she’d been missing dearly these days. she was about halfway to aria’s salon when she caught sight of the would be altercation had the pedestrian not yielded the girl’s preventative measures. still the ordeal caused camila to grit her teeth and close the distance from across the street in mere seconds, heart racing as her feet came to a full stop beside her friend. “fuckin’ idiot, go!” she shouts with venom dripping from her words. “kick your god damn ass if you don’t watch where the hell you’re going.” she adds as they begin to scurry away. “baby, he fuck it up?” she coos to aria as she drops to a low squat, fingertips brushing over the edges of the box. 

He wasn’t sure why Ella had decided to come join him - maybe she was just hoping for a familiar face.  He thought briefly back to their playground chat - had he been flirting with her?  You probably need intent, but he still felt his cheeks flush at the idea.  “I’m just sayin’, when it comes to things that look kind of sad from the outside, it’s people passing paper bags back and forth on the street.  Either they’re too young or broke to be in a bar, or they’ve drank too much already and no one else will serve them.”  Her rambling caused a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.  “You know, I’ve always heard Einstein was a drunk.”

              an itty bitty part of banks had hoped that aria was too involved in her art to notice the time , but the first thing she does is call him out . he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and runs a hand through his mess of bedhead . ‘  well , you know , i planned to be here on time , but we plan and god laughs , so …  ’ he trails off like his little good boy spiel might be enough . from his spot on the ground , legs hovering , banks holds all his weight on his back and uses his abdominals to jump onto his feet . ‘  yeah it’s fucking hot ,  ’ he admits because being too cool is overrated . he’s just aiming for mild coolness . squatting to aria’s level now , knee touching hers , he looks from the art to her eyes , the eyes that made it . ‘  where do you want me , boss ?  ’

“Don’t you?” They were amused when the mention of River being complimented came up, which was one thing they never had a problem understanding. There were a thousand things to praise, hell maybe even a running list, but they were all words left unsaid. They couldn’t afford to engage in sentiment that might actually reveal the feelings hiding under a so called hardened exterior. “It’s fine.” Bas attempted to reassure him, while taking the lighter, and easily sparking the blunt in hand. It was the one time they seemed to have agreed to taking orders from anyone but themself. A chuckle though, did follow the mention of blood. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll stand. Mostly for my own safety though, I don’t trust whatever has been on this couch.” They admitted, grin easily forming, shoulder posting up against the wall as dark eyes seemed to wait for him to come back into the line of vision. “You could just clean it, once you hold some pressure to it, and I stop moving, it’ll probably clear up.” Suggested, rocking on feet just a tad.

location: bar downtown centralia status: open @liminalstart​​

“this seat taken? .. great, thank you.” camila speaks up over the mid-day crowd though she doesn’t leave much, if any, room for protest. She sets her purse on the old oak bar slab, manicured fingernails comb through her hair, eyebrow raised sharply as her eyes catch the bartender. “glass of red, surprise me..” she orders, pushing a credit card across the way. she turns to the bystander beside her, lips pursed together. “hope you weren’t expecting..”

…

“because men are entitled and thing they can get away with anything if they’re pushy enough. but thank you, i do like to believe i can do most things better than men,” shane said with a cocky grin. if there was one thing shane loved the most out of life, it was being able to make fun of men. “oh come on, i’m sure you wouldn’t be that bad,” she urged. “that’s what the gloves are for, stops from hurting your hands. all you gotta do is punch and hopefully nothing would be hitting you in the face.” god, even off the clock and after complaining about not wanting to work for free, shane was still in trainer mode and trying to push poor juliet into trying it. “sorry, i get so into work mode that it hard to get out of it, even when i’m off the clock. you obviously don’t have to try.” 

“i mean, i barely know you and i believe that to be true,” juliet commented, wrinkling her nose a bit for emphasis. nothing against men, they could do their things, they could do okay, but women usually went for the think smarter way, therefore... well, women were statistically better at everything. juliet was sure she could write a whole essay about it. “trust me, i would find a way,” she was laughing. really, she could only get on the elliptical and some days, if she was feeling daring, she ran a mile or two to feel better about herself. “no, don’t worry. you can get all into work mode as you can, i refuse to make you work a second with me tonight. i’ll just sit here and... spot you.” she chuckled. “isn’t that what men say to each other when one is just... staring?” clearly, juliet was outside of her comfort zone in a gym.

Nic was not the right company to encourage a boring night consisting of a single drink. Instead, it made her grin a little bit, head cocked to the side as if she were entertaining the idea. “Well if it’s one drink, you should make it count. Whiskey sour sounds a little bit week, no?” Asked with a chuckle, before elbow curled around the back of her chair, casually relaxing but never quite capable of sitting, or doing anything really, straight.

wait a minute, is eduardo ‘eddie’ hasan-vidal still in town? i thought i saw a flash of (heavy boots, the smell of fabric softener, an abandoned cup of coffee in the morning)! last i heard they were working as a(n) nurse and paramedic. when it’s the (aquarius)’s birthday on 02/14. i forget that they’re detached and celebrate that they’re reliable. i hear late night talking by harry styles every time i think of them.  ⌠taylor zakhar perez, 27, cis male, he/him ⌡ 

location: outside the dance studio

closed starter for: @xemptywithyoux​ (izzy)

she’s running herself ragged, and she knows it. but as wylie plants herself on the ground in front of the studio and dares to peel off the pointe shoes she’s been sporting for hours, there’s a mantra that’s running in her mind that keeps telling her that it’ll all be worth it. the sight of busted toes and the beginning of a rash at her ankle is enough to make wylie sigh with her reality, the reality that she’s rusty and that maybe staying off the stage was a good idea. but how was she supposed to walk away from something she’d dedicated more than half her life to? with a grumble, wylie pulls her legs in to hug them to her chest, head lulling until her gaze meets izzy’s in a defeated way. “remind me again why we chose this life for ourselves? like…what possessed us to think that dancing on our toes for hours at a time would be a goo way to earn money? because right now, i’m thinking i should’ve become a waitress or some shit.”