#pogueframed

[turtlesaved]

·˚𓆉 ┊@pogueframed

bare  feet  pad  along  the  hallway,  kiara  had  long  since  forgone  checking  the  time.  it  was  pointless.  she'd  go  to  bed,  struggle  to  fall  asleep.  and  then,  as  soon  as  she'd  drift  off  .  .  .  images  of  the  car,  flashes  of  a  kitty  hawk  uniform  would  infiltrate  her  mind  like  an  intruder.  she'd  wake  with  sweaty  palms,  heart  racing,  gasping  for  air.  it  was  silly,  part  of  her  knew  that.  all  the  pogues  had  trauma.  all  the  pogues  had  ongoing  issues  with  their  families.  yet,  she  couldn't  quite  let  this  go.  it  haunted  her.  her  parents,  still  haunted  her.  not  that  she'd  spoken  to  them  much  since  she  had  gotten  back  from  el  dorado.  part  of  her  wished  it  was  her  decision  .  .  .  she  knew  that  it  wasn't.  feet  are  light  on  the  stairs,  not  wanting  to  wake  anyone  up.  if  she  was  going  to  suffer?  her  pride  meant  suffering  alone.

the  kitchen  is  where  she  finds  herself.  as  she  grabs  a  beer,  the  condensation  cold  against  her  fingers.  she'd  read  that  temperature  could  help  with  anxiety.  the  contrast  between  warm  and  cold  shocking  the  nervous  system.  and  it  helps,  even  against  the  clammy  skin  of  her  hand.  she  walks  over  to  the  dining  table,  placing  a  coaster  onto  it  before  placing  the  beer  down.  pope  would  have  a  fit  if  the  table  was  ruined  so  quickly.  not  that  she  minded  much,  it  was  nice  to  have  order  in  the  chaos  that  seemed  to  slot  into  her  life  so  naturally  now.  she  makes  herself  busy,  by  rolling  a  joint.  it's  not  a  great  idea  to  get  cross  faded  on  her  own  in  the  early  hours  of  the  morning  .  .  .  but  she'd  take  anything  if  it  meant  not  being  in  her  own  head  for  just  a  little  while.  it's  only  when  she  hears  movement  behind  her  that  she  stops.  wielding  the  beer  bottle  as  a  weapon.  heart  on  her  chest  as  she  realises  who  it  is.  “don't  fucking  scare  me  like  that  man,”  words  are  light,  despite  her  intial  reaction.  “or  i'll  have  to  tell  sarah  who  really  used  the  last  of  her  coconut  lotion.” 

[kierras]

@pogueframed​ / sc.

things have been tense ever since getting back to kildare county, but kiara doesn’t know what else any of them could have expected. it was why she hadn’t wanted to come back, wasn’t it? the hot water and electricity had been a plus, but things with her parents feel as splintered as ever. kie is sure she isn’t helping her case any now, sitting on a half rotted plastic chair in the yard of the chateau, but she can’t bring herself to leave. it’s the only place she’s ever really associated with the word home, and she needs it right now. they all do. from the corner of her eye she watches jj and big john across the yard — the biggest wild card they’ve gotten so far. obviously she’s thrilled to have him back, but she can only imagine how overwhelming it’s been for his son. “hey,” she starts, sipping her beer and nudging john b’s boot with her foot. her head nods towards his father and their friends, “where’s your head at with all this? we haven’t gotten to talk since...” since she’d been thrown in the back of a truck? she definitely doesn’t want to think about that, a chill creeping down her spine. “since everything. shit’s been crazy.” 

[kierras]

@pogueframed​: ❛ if you have something to say, spit it out. ❜

kiara carrera has never been good at hiding her emotions — she wears her heart on her sleeve, every little feeling she feels showing clearly on her face, no matter how much she might hate it. she can’t hide anything from anyone, but she especially can’t hide anything from john b who knows her better than just about anyone. so it comes as no surprise when he calls her out now. sarah cameron’s name had slipped from between his lips and a storm that could rival agatha brewed behind kie’s eyes as they roll dramatically and clouds darkening her entire being. she hadn’t even tried to hide her reaction, though she couldn’t have even if she wanted to. a brow raises at john b’s words, arms crossing over her chest and her hip jutting out. “oh, i have a lot to say,” she huffs out. “how about the fact that you’re being an idiot? let’s start there.” and though kiara means for the words to come out harsh and cutting, there is no denying concern that swims in chocolate hues — because john b might not know what he’s getting into with the kook princess, but kiara does. she has been burned by that flame before, still has the scars to prove it.  

[turtlesaved-archived]

❝ and god, i love you, but you're such a dipshit. ❞ <3

the  night  settled  around  them  with  the  kind  of  slow,  heavy  patience  that  the  outer  banks  was  known  for.  the  last  of  the  day's  sunlight  had  drained  into  the  horizon,  leaving  the  sky  bruised  in  shades  of  navy  and  violet.  a  sliver  of  moon  hung  low,  blurred  by  the  haze  that  clung  stubbornly  to  the  coastline.  the  marsh  was  alive  with  sound,  a  constant  hum  of  cicadas  and  frogs  weaving  together  into  a  chorus  that  filled  the  silence  between  words.  every  now  and  then,  a  heron  would  cut  across  the  stillness  with  a  low  cry  before  vanishing  back  into  the  reeds,  its  wings  skimming  the  surface  of  water.  kiara  perched  on  the  dock's  edge,  the  old  wood  warm  beneath  her  thighs,  still  holding  onto  the  heat  of  the  sun.  she  leaned  back  on  her  hands,  fingers  spread  across  grooves  worn  deep  from  years  of  storm  and  salt.  the  boards  smelled  faintly  of  mildew  and  brine,  an  almost  comforting  scent,  familiar  like  an  old  sweatshirt  that  had  been  left  too  long  in  the  sun.  her  bare  feet  dangled  in  the  water,  toes  catching  stray  droplets  when  a  passing  fish  disturbed  the  calm  with  a  sudden  ripple.  the  air  was  thick  with  summer  weight,  clinging  to  her  skin  like  an  extra  layer,  but  she  didn't  mind.  nights  like  this  were  stitched  into  her  bones;  the  salt,  the  humidity,  the  ever-present  hum  of  something  wild  just  beyond  reach.  she  lifted  her  gaze  to  the  sky,  tracing  constellations  she  half-remembered  from  childhood,  stars  just  starting  to  prick  holes  into  the  dark  canvas  above.  for  a  fleeting  moment,  it  felt  like  the  entire  world  had  slowed  to  match  her  heartbeat,  steady  and  unhurried.

beside  her,  john  b  leaned  against  the  railing,  his  shoulder  brushing  hers  every  now  and  then  when  he  shifted  his  weight.  he  carried  the  same  scent  he  always  did  after  a  day  on  the  water:  salt,  sweat,  and  that  faint  trace  of  gasoline  from  the  boat  engine.  his  curls  were  still  damp,  a  little  wild,  catching  the  glow  from  the  dock  light  overhead.  he  wasn't  looking  at  her  when  he  said  it  –  he  never  did  when  he  tossed  words  like  that  into  the  air,  half-teasing,  half-true.  and  god,  i  love  you,  but  you're  such  a  dipshit.  it  was  the  kind  of  comment  that  could  have  stung  if  it  came  from  anyone  else,  but  from  him  it  landed  differently,  softened  by  the  history  layered  between  them.  kiara  didn't  answer  right  away.  she  let  the  words  hang  there,  soaking  into  the  night,  carried  off  a  little  by  the  breeze  rolling  lazily  off  the  water.  she  tipped  her  head  back,  closing  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  listening  to  the  way  the  dock  creaked  beneath  their  combined  weight,  how  the  cicadas  seemed  to  swell  louder  before  fading  again.  when  she  finally  spoke,  her  voice  came  low  and  even,  wrapped  in  dry  humour  that  didn't  quite  hide  the  warmth  underneath.  “guess  that  makes  two  of  us,  then.”  the  corners  of  her  mouth  curved  upward  as  she  opened  her  eyes  again,  catching  the  faint  glow  of  fireflies  dancing  across  the  marsh.  they  blinked  on  and  off  in  uneven  patterns,  as  if  laughing  at  the  both  of  them.  she  drew  her  knees  up  toward  her  chest,  wrapping  her  arms  around  them,  the  dock  groaning  beneath  the  shift.  the  night  stretched  out  endlessly  ahead,  and  for  all  the  barbs  and  banter,  there  was  no  mistaking  the  comfort  of  it  –  this  quiet,  this  companionship,  this  rhythm  they  never  seemed  to  lose. 

[kierras]

@pogueframed: "we'll figure this out. we always do." obx trailer starters.

everything sucks... again. kiara thinks that all of them must have done some pretty fucked up things in their past life, racking up a stupid amount of bad cosmic karma that's catching up with them now because every time it feels like they catch a break, everything goes to hell again. "yeah, well, what if we don't?" the words come before she can stop them. always the optimist, she tries not to let herself get like this but a girl can only be pushed so many times. "what if this time things went too far and we're really fucked?"