safiya huffed a laugh. oh, sweet boy. “depends where we're shipping it to. i can plaster it with fragile tape and stuff the box full of bubblewrap so it can't move an inch, but some postmen seem to use parcels like footballs. you wouldn't believe some of the horrors i've seen.” seeing him flustered meant that she had done her job. satisfied, safiya whistled between her teeth and untied her apron to hang it up on one of the many hooks on the wall. “i was playing, love, but if you want to grab a wet cloth i won't snatch it off you.”
"she lives on the west coast, so it would be a pretty long trip. i've shipped other stuff before, but nothing breakable like your stuff. and i wouldn't want something this pretty to get ruined." he said, carefully picking up whatever piece was closest to him. he turned it over in his hands, being very gentle with it. he could be notoriously clumsy but her work deserved care. "if i help you clean up, will you get out of here earlier?"
"you're very sweet, but i don't hire just anyone off the street to work for me," evelyn chuckled, putting her tablet away in her bag. "even if you do seem a bit more knowledgeable than the average person." how on earth she managed to lose her assistant in a small town like this, evelyn would never understand. she'd have to send an email or voicenote with her commentary later. "you could have stopped me at any point, you know. i tend to hyper focus when i'm working."
"well then, lucky for you, i'm not just anyone. and you don't have to hire me, i'm happy just to help out for the fun of things." he grinned at the compliment. he'd never been called knowledgeable before. he had a lot of positive qualities, but his intelligence wasn't one of them. "you're right, i could have. but you were so into your train of thought it felt rude to interrupt."
She carefully placed the cookies down before he scooped her up. This was a common occurrence in their apartment, his huge frame all but swallowing hers in hugs. She adored it, adored him, really. They were an odd pairing in some ways, but that didn't matter to Clara. "Good day at work? Any fires or cats in trees give you any trouble?" She took a cookie, taking a bite and groaning a little. "Damn, I kind of aced these. Maybe no extras, after all."
"actually, yes!" he stopped dead in his tracks, distracted by her question. "i was scratched by a cat today!" he held forward his wrist, where a faint pink scratch was visible against his tan skin. a few places were more red than pink, but it was obvious that no blood was drawn. "look at this!! i was trying to save a kitten from the dumpster and it scratched me." beau was pouting, with his bottom lip pushed out and everything. it had been a cute kitten and he was offended that it tried to hurt him.
“Maybe it’s because we actually care about you,” he offered, lifting his shoulders in an easy shrug. Theo eased back against the pier as well, letting his head rest against the cool wooden planks while his hands folded over his stomach. “I’m glad it’s not,” he murmured, voice gentle. “Because I really do care about you… and I’d hate for anything to ruin what we have.”
"i care about you guys too." she said softly as she stared up at the sky. she looked over at him when he leaned back beside her. "you're not getting rid of me that easily, mon cherie. i am like bed bugs, once you have me, it's very hard to get rid of me. i personally recommend fire, but poison works too."
"Beau? Is that you?" Why it would be anyone else, Clara couldn't exactly say. She grinned, taking her oven mitts off, placing them on the counter. She then scooped up the plate with red and green swirls. "I made some cookies!" She walked out to where he was, presenting the treats like a sort of magic trick. "Recipe testing for my Secret Santa gift. Not sure these are exactly what I'm going for, but we can share them. Oh! And you can bring some of the extras down to the station!"
the smell of cookies filled the hallway as soon as beau stepped off of the elevator, and he was salivating like a cartoon dog as he slipped his key in the door. "yeah, it's me!" he called back, closing the door behind him. he kicked off his sneakers and dropped his bag by the door. "oh my god, clara. i love you. i could smell them the whole way in and i was just praying they were ours." he grinned, carefully scooping her up in a bear hug. "pfft, extras. you're cute." he grabbed one off of the plate and took a giant bite, grinning ear to ear like a kid on christmas.
despite only having a single brain cell bouncing around inside his head like the dvd screensaver that you'd pray would land perfectly in the corner, and if it did, maybe he'd have a coherent thought, beau was a good driver by most people's measure. he took it seriously, which was what is most important, but he also had quick reflexes and a serious lack of road rage. or, well, any rage. he was too soft to ever really get mad at anyone. it lead him to being taken advantage of, not that he considered driving jude around to be an imposition in any way. however, while he was a good driver, his sense of direction was terrible. "uhhh, was it a left or a right up here?" he asked jude as they pulled up to the stop light. he looked both ways, but nothing was jogging his memory.
suddenly, the brain cell bounced perfectly into the corner and a thought™ occurred, like a miracle. "it's a right. and then a left at the next lights. i got it now." he blew out a small sigh of relief. "anyway, what were you saying?"
where: the boardwalk
who: anyone { @ciderstarters }
"so, what do you think?" beau asked as he held up the caricature drawing of him that he had commissioned from an artist along the boardwalk. normally, they were just for tourists, but beau had walked past them many times and always wanted one. so now, it was finally time to take the chance and sit for a portrait. his features had been exaggerated, obviously, and he probably should feel self-concious about the features they chose to exaggerate, but he wasn't. he didn't care. "do you think i'll be allowed to put this up in the living room?" his roommate was a designer and very particular.
it wasn’t unnatural to see jasper in a coffee shop, scrawling frantically in a notebook and inspecting a tall glass of hot chocolate from every angle. in fact, it was the most natural thing in the world. every coffee establishment had a rating, an entry in their own bible ; something to tell them whether they should return, and where the café ranked when it came to creating the perfect cup of cocoa. since jasper found themself in ciderpoint his friend had been good company on their excursions. it gave them time to catch up, to check in. “it’s not as good as last time,” he sighed, leaning back against their chair, “last time they had four marshmallows, and now they only have three. even worse, two are white. maybe i could’ve given them an extra half point if the majority had been pink, but … ” they clicked their tongue against their teeth, “disappointing.”
helping someone rate hot chocolate had to be one of beau's favourite ways to pass the time. "i think you should go ask for more marshmallows. three is an abomination." oof, that was a big word for little beau, but he managed to pull it off. and he even used it correctly. if he could give himself a gold star, he would. "is it at least sweeter than last time? that was my main complaint. although, we know i like sweet things." it was true, beau had a bit of a sweet tooth and loved his hot chocolate sickly sweet. and thick, he couldn't stand when it was made with water. it had to be made with whole milk or he couldn't drink it.
the air was warm from the heated kiln ; despite the cold outside, winter's kiss awaiting them beyond the door, they were safe for the hour or two that they were tucked away. the last few weeks before christmas was always a rush. orders to fill, clients on a shortlist. there were only so many cups and bowls she could make before her fingers seized and threatened to fall off. “if you keep coming in here and not buying anything, i'm going to start charging an entry fee. or at the very least you can grab a mop and start cleaning up some of the glaze i flicked on the floor earlier to make yourself useful.”
"i could buy something." beau insisted, pulling out his wallet. "you make great stuff, my grandmother would love some of this stuff. does it ship well? i won't be seeing her over the holidays so i'd have to send it there." he was rambling, of course, but he usually did when he was put on the spot like this. "or, i'm also happy to help clean. i'm good at cleaning. i like to clean when i'm stressed or can't sleep."
evelyn didn't look up when she spoke. her heels clicked a clean, decisive rhythm as she walked down the street towards the coffee shop, tablet in hand. "okay, for the silent auction tables, i want the bid sheets swapped to the navy cardstock, not the cream. the cream photographs abysmally. also—" finally, evelyn paused in her scrolling through her tablet and looked up, only to come to a halt. the person standing beside her...was not her assistant. "oh." a beat. her expression rearranged—composure faltering, then swiftly reassembled. "i'm sorry, i thought you were someone else."
beau was a good boy who listened intently when someone spoke to him, regardless of if what they were saying made any sense to him. and honestly, it was rare that things made sense to him at first. it always took him a second to catch up with things. "oh no, you're so okay. i'm still down to help. you said something about bid sheets being navy cardstock instead of cream? which, i agree, by the way. cream always photographs white." he was a music kid, not an art kid, but even he knew that much.
do you hear ALL WE GET NOW BY NEGATIVE 25 playing? oh, that must be BEAUREGARD "BEAU" MASTERSON breezing by. i don’t know if you recognize them, but they look like TYRIQ WITHERS to me. i heard that HE has been in town for FIFTEEN YEARS, which is crazy considering they are TWENTY-SEVEN years old. yeah, they live over on PENNY LANE, and i heard that they work as a FIREFIGHTER ( IN TOWN ). i love that they remind me of A BLUE RASPBERRY FLAVOURED VAPE, THE FILM GRAIN ON OLD MOVIES, A BOUQUET OF WILTING WILDFLOWERS, but … ugh, their playlist is so weird. why is/are BACKSEAT RIDER, CRAZY ON YOU, STEREO (MUSE B), GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN, THE NIGHT WE MET, GET IN MY CAR, SLOW DANCE, DOWN BY THE RIVER (MUSE B), CLEAN CITY, THE WIRE, THE GAMBLER, SOMEBODY ELSE (SPOTIFY SINGLES), GOGO JUICE, LEANING ON YOU, SANTA CLAUSE IS COMING TO TOWN (MUSE A), in the queue? ( jack again )
tw: military school, death
full name , nickname(s) : beauregard wilburton masterson , beau
age , dob , zodiac : twenty - seven, jul 15 , cancer
hometown : seattle, washington
gender , pronouns : cismale, he / him
orientation : bisexual, biromantic
occupation : firefighter , musician
biography.
childhood: beauregard's grandmother was a glamorous woman. the kind that always spent their last dollar on the newest fashions, always hoping to get a hot date with whatever wealthy man had caught her eye. she never seemed to let having a young child hanging around cramp her style, though, and often included young beau in her routines. he would help her apply her makeup, pick out her clothes, and use his small little fingers to do up the tiny buckles on her favourite pair of heels, all while dancing to her records. their house was always bustling with noise, music playing constantly through the halls. they were inseparable, best friends, until his grandmother met, and married, a wealthy businessman who had no interest in having a young child around. now about eight years old, beau struggled with his new step-grandfather's strict and militaristic ways, missing the freedom and fluidity of his early life. when his step-grandfather made the unilateral decision to send him away to military school, beau was heartbroken. he spent four long years away at military school before his grandmother finally divorced the awful man, and they together moved to cider point.
adolescence: going from military school to middle school was a drastic change for beau, and he struggled to find his place in the world. it was difficult for him to figure out who he was. he'd had a good grasp of it once, and then military school stripped him of it during such a formulative age. he went through phases, maybe a little more extreme than other kids his age, but his grandmother was right there with him. the one constant for him, though, was music. his grandmother got him guitar lessons and he loved it. he joined a band (or two) and started making friends. then, at seventeen, tragedy struck. his grandmother was getting married again and moving them away. he begged her to let him stay, but alas, he was too young to really be on his own yet, so he had to follow. college wasn't for him, so as soon as he graduated high school, he signed up with the local fire station. he was forever the rookie, but at least he was helping people.
adulthood: still, something wasn't quite right with his life. he was restless, eager to move on from a place that had never really felt like home. so he cashed in his savings, bought an old vw van, and hopped on the road. he'd stop in a town for a few months, work at their firehouse, and move on when he was bored again. he couldn't hold down a relationship, because everyone expected him to stay. and staying felt like suffering. so, he moved again. and again. none of it was home though, until he found his way back to cider point. this was his home, where he would finally be able to put down roots. it felt like the town had moved on without him, and yet hadn't changed a bit. some people had also left, but some people were still here, and those that remembered him did so fondly.
now: beau has been back in cider point for about five years now, having been back longer now than when he was gone. he works as a firefighter still, and is happy with his job. he's got a roommate, friends, and everything he could ask for except his grandmother. they still talk every day and he misses her dearly, but she has a life there and he has one here. he's finally started figuring out who he is and who he was meant to be, even though that's still a fluid and ever-changing idea.
𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: ESTATE SALE, PENNY LANE ( @hallelujahtohell )
“oh my god, kai, look at this !!” she half shouts, twirling around with the gold plated hand mirror held straight toward him. “isn't it gorgeous ? look at the detailing,” one manicured finger trailing along the ornate edges. she has half a mind to take it home for herself, swept away by the whimsy of it all. “if you don't call dibs now, i'm taking her home.”
kai was absorbed in a set of antique books, trying to figure out when they were published, when he heard his name from across the room. he looked up, startled out of his thoughts, turning to face ofeliya. "oh, that is nice." he said, setting the books down and crossing the space between them. he took it from her carefully, turning it over in his hands. "i could sell this in a heartbeat, but i have to be real with you, it looks like it was made for you." he said, handing it back to her with a small smile. "i don't think i'd feel right separating you two."
WHERE: THE PIER
TIME: AFTERNOON TIME
WHO: THEO & ZELDA @hallelujahtohell
Theo swung his legs over the edge of the pier. “Look, I know life’s a mess right now,” he said, leaning back on his palms. “But you’re stuck with me, okay? No dramatic exit stage left.”
"why does everyone keep saying that to me?" zelda whined, flopping backwards onto the pier. her hair spread out around her like a halo, and she stared up at the sky. "i'm fine. and you know what, theo? even if i wasn't fine, that's not my style. i promise."
Lenny wasn't usually seen on this side of town, unless she had a particular necessity. But for some reason, she couldn't shake her unsettling feeling. Maybe it was because they were in that bizarre time, sandwiched between Thanksgiving and Christmas, where everyone's festive spirit started spewing out. Lenny didn't want to be a grinch... not really. But it made the most tender part of her long for her parents; long for home. She looked over at Kai, as they walked along, and she shrugged. "I feel like I get even worse, this time of the year. I don't know. Maybe I'm fuckin' jealous, or something."
kai also hated this time of year, the awkward holiday gap between thanksgiving and christmas when time felt fake. some of his foster parents had celebrated christmas, but he could never get into the holiday spirit, knowing it would all end sooner rather than later. it wasn't until he moved back to take care of the girls that he had to pretend the season didn't just suck the life out of him. "i feel you there, len. if not for the girls, it'd be just another day for me. sometimes i hate having to put on a happy face for them." he sighed, although not with malice. he loved his sisters more than anything, he just also sometimes really missed his life before.
Kinzie slowed as she reached the restaurant, taking a moment to steady herself. Seeing Kai waiting there, flowers in hand and that nervous smile on his face, made her chest flutter in a way it hadn’t in years. She offered a small, genuine smile in return, feeling a mix of nerves and something like hope.
“Hey, Kai… thanks,” she said softly, nodding toward the bouquet. “You didn’t have to do that.” She shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to hide the way her hands were trembling just a little. “You look… really nice too.” Her voice was quiet, careful, but there was warmth there—a quiet acknowledgment that she appreciated him being here, and maybe, just maybe, she was willing to let herself take a small step forward.
kai felt himself blush a little at the compliment, feeling strangely self-conscious. he wasn't often complimented, even though he had, of course, put effort into his appearance tonight. he usually wasn't one to much care about his appearance beyond basic hygiene, but tonight was special. she was special. "would you believe, in the ten years i've been back in cider point, i've never been here before?" he said with a small grin. it seemed like a safe way to kick off the conversation for the night, and he felt a little bit proud of himself. he was never one for conversation, usually preferring comfortable silences. but this was a first date, and first dates required conversation and communication.
discoholicmusic
ellievsbear
theartofmadeline
annaxmalina
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
