#eclipteds

[hellrisen]

dumb prompt generator : sawyer gets locked out of their house while their family is gone, so they spend the night at dylan’s place. 

amongst the many adjectives to describe sawyer, forgetful was one of the few left out. careless and scatter-brained to a fault — but not to a degree which often leaves her in this conundrum. the trip had been planned for weeks, reminder hung up on the refrigerator and jotted down into her calendar. yet there she stood. call it bad luck her conveniently ditzy self leaves the house keys at home that day. of all days.  “  isn’t it crazy?  „  she declares, sports bag ( thankfully kept in the trunk of her car ) dropped onto the couch.  “  we’ve known each other all this time … and we’ve never had like, an actual sleepover.  „  sawyer wouldn’t declare herself inattentive either. birthdays and anniversaries are ingrained into her skull, while minor details and personality traits stay put in the memory bank for years on end. but when it came to who she’d consider one of her best friends, it seemed she slipped on picking up a rather massive characteristic. still operating in the dark, sawyer goes on.  “  i always have them with teddy.  „         /         @eclipteds​

[jawbroke]

starter for @eclipteds​ ( dylan daye ) !

DRUNK    PEOPLE    BLABBER.    and he hated blabbering. well, he hated people, too, and drunks. EVIDENTLY, he was in the wrong profession. but investments had been made, and the bartender was no quitter. one day the bar would become profitable––wishful thinking at best––with stefan cowell leaving roswell, georgia in the rearview mirror. ONE DAY.    ‘     wishing for bad shit to happen to people you hate is wrong.    ,    refill poured, attention gifted the girl before him. closing time was nearing, and even the town’s most notorious drunks out the door. BUT NOT HER. the stranger’s ranting making why clear.    ‘    you gotta be way more productive than that.     ,    

[hellrisen]

@eclipteds

TITLE: BRIEF SUPPORT. SETTING: KISSING BOOTH. STARRING: SAWYER KINNEY & DYLAN DAYE.

SAWYER: weeks ago, sawyer might’ve jumped onto the kissing booth wagon — if only to get a humorous rise out of her uncle alongside her cousin and sister. but now, regret creeps up. boys, and girls, have been kissed in the past, and although some regrettable, sawyer had at least had a say in who. called to the front as her turn approaches, she drags her feet. “ it’s a dollar. and no tongue. „

DYLAN: always fashionably late, Dylan lulls to the kissing booth, having only joined in support of sawyer. She wasn’t too keen on kissing random strangers that she didn’t get to choose. The likelihood of getting herpes was particularly high this evening —-can vampires even get herpes? Oh well she’s dead anyways. Tossing sawyer lip balm, she smacks her lips together playfully. “Pucker up, Kinney. No way you’re making any money with that pout.”

SAWYER: a groan escapes sawyer despite the best of her attempts, leaving a pizza-faced teen in the queue in noticeable discomfort. don’t be rude, kinney. lip balm applied, and she leans over the booth to offer a quick — faint — peck on dry lips. “ ugh … „ another whine as the boy vanishes in the crowd, sawyer turns to dylan. “ you know, i wish ! because when i signed up for this, i was expecting some … i don’t know, hot eligible bachelors from out of town. not teenagers i could’ve babysat. „

DYLAN: A large smile forms across her face as amusement takes hold. “You know, you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you can find your Prince Charming.” A shrug and she gestures to the next willing victim in line, quickly snatching a crumpled dollar from shaky hands and laying a peck on thin lips. “See, the key is to think about someone really really hot....Makes it a whole lot easier.”

SAWYER: dylan moves through the motion with an apathetic expertise, one that sawyer lacked wholly. relief from duty avoided is expressed with a sigh, and she leans against the booth’s wall. “ they don’t show that part in the movies. „ sawyer argues, evading eye contact with anybody passing by. “ who are you imagining then? no, let me guess … zac efron. „

[hellrisen]

♦ sawyer

QUIRKS / HOBBIES  —  okay, so sawyer enjoys baking. this is already a proven fact! she’s a decent cook but baking is just … funner, yeah? as of late, she’s been kinda preoccupied with a specific task, though. you see sawyer’s mommy was not great in the kitchen. she was terrible, actually. that woman could burn water. BUT — and this is a big one — she’d mastered one thing … this one singular recipe which she nailed each and every time and by god did she make them to death. bake sales. birthdays. christmas. sleepovers. any special occasion and she’d whip it out. it’d get a little repetitive, sure, but who was to tell penelope kinney to stop making her famous kitchen sink cookies? then she died, and the recipe? nowhere to be found. because as organised as this woman was, giving away her one secret weapon was a complete no-go. she was taking that recipe to her grave! of course she never really thought she would. anyhow! back to sawyer. for the past month, give or take, it’s been stuck on her mind. and it always is … when sad, when happy, when upset … she thinks of her mother and her recipe. only now, she’s set her mind to recreating it. from memory, from taste, from forcing ronald to be her guinea pig. two tastebuds are better than one, right? sienna and steven are, obviously, left out of the equation until she’s gotten it right. though at this rate, let’s not hold our breath. 

[hellrisen]

"I love you" for dylsaw

send me “i love you” & i’ll generate a number from 1 - 20 to see how my muse responds.

SAWYER KINNEY WAS NOT DRUNK. maybe tipsy. positively buzzed. revelling in that stage : lodged between shame and none, balancing at its edge with a strawberry daiquiri in hand. a hazard to newly made sheets, a non-ordeal to an intoxicated girl.   I LOVE YOU.   it doesn’t surprise her. because affection fills sawyer kinney to the brim: spilling over in moments of extraordinary bliss, making her heart swell. like now. with warm eyes settling on dylan, she stifles a delighted smile.  “  prove it.  „  challenges were often proclaimed, and in sawyer’s case, always acted upon. tonight being another instance of a self - diagnosed daredevil at large. but circumstance a situation makes … and with soft giggles acting the evening’s soundtrack, the chirping of crickets outside adding another level to its ambience, context is muddled. between wine coolers aplenty and their spot atop her bed, it is easy to inaccurately decipher the signals sent. though how could dylan take it THE WRONG WAY when intent is  hazy  on both ends? 

[hellrisen]

* @eclipteds​ vc * She drives a beat up vw bug (mainly because I wish I could /: ) and so it breaks down, he drives by and maybe tries to help jumpstart it or gives her a ride...or never stops and doesn’t help her f 

the sun is setting at the end of the road, through willowy trees and dissipating clouds, with foo fighters acting the soundtrack of this muggy afternoon. grohl’s vocals drowned out by both engine and eden’s unvarying radio static. the day off had been spent outside town. larger cities, longer roads, better sound. and though he was returning empty-handed—sans a six-pack—it’d been a good one. STILL … an apartment was longed for. his couch even more so. that’s why he almost passes her by, turning a deliberate blind-eye to a fellow resident in need, until details are made out. a familiar face in these parts isn’t uncommon. no, the real rarity is finding familiar faces unaccompanied by a desire for familiar avoidance. his chevy performs a california roll and is steered onto the side of the road. never would the term good samaritan be used in his description — yet with a hood popped and a girl, whose name he never caught, hunched beneath it, stefan embraces the title with little reluctance.  “  car trouble?  „  the driver’s seat door slams shut behind him as he approaches, arms folded and attention wavering; between her and a time-worn beetle.  “  you didn’t hit something, did you?  „  a pause, volume lowered.  “  or someone.  „ 

[prayrights]

starter  for  @eclipteds​  /  dylan  daye

nikolas  was  an  organized  man  ––  he  thrived  off  of  a  routine  .  it  had  taken  what  felt  like  forever  for  him  to  find  one  he’d  been  comfortable  with  ever  since  the  end  of  his  last  relationship  .  but  if  he  were  being  honest  with  himself  ,  all  that  energy  he’d  kept  pent  up  inside  of  him  because  of  his  routine  needed  to  be  expelled  one  way  or  another  .  that’s  where  dylan  came  into  play  .  the  two  would  never  see  eye   to  eye  and  in  fact  ,  he  had  no  desire  to  .  their  interactions  served  one  purpose  because  outside  of  it  ?  nik  could  barely  tolerate  her  presence  .  which  is  what  caused  an  eyebrow  to  raise  as  she  approached  ,  seemingly  unprovoked  .  “  i  don’t  exactly  remember  making  any  arrangements  with  you  ––  what  do  you  want  ?  i  was  trying  to  enjoy  my  evening  .  ”

[jawbroke]

sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴇ ʟᴏᴠɪᴄᴋ… @eclipteds​ !

SHE    WAS    A    MESS.    in more ways than one. the privilege of daily showers stripped, and she was as dirty as she felt. it wasn’t a GOOD LOOK, then again    –     neither was wasting half a bottle jack on a tuesday night. suppose weekdays or weekends held no differences now. the mindset of a true alcoholic … she doesn’t remember him sitting down    –     it must’ve been to check on her : buzzed and alone, down on the sidewalk outside of safeway. surely not to hear retellings of the past    (    the only topic to a gloomy girl, presented with the end of the world    )   and his protests make the preference clear.    ‘    i’m trying to be sentimental and you’re ruining the moment.    ,    she mumbles, fingertips tracing the mouth of the bottle.