#portchesterstart

[sethcartwright-blog]

Seth swore that no matter how much he loved his family, he was done with them. After all, if they really did love him and cared for him as much as they said they did, why in God’s name, would they even nominate him as an eligible bachelor for the parade? Sure, it was for a good cause, plus his parents were close to the Keller’s, but still, this felt like torture to him. Looking down, Seth adjusted the tie on the suit his mother had insisted he wore, when he felt the urge for a cigarette. Reaching into his pocket, the man grabbed one from his pack of Marlboros, before turning to the person across from him. “Want one?” He offered.

[xsebastiananderson]

Sebastian was the embodiment of trouble, he carried the smell of bad boy with him wherever he went — old leather, motor grease, the sour undertones of impending regret. Yet, today he carried another smell that had almost been adequately masked by all the others if it had not been for the fact that his shoulder had abruptly bounced clumsily off of the side of the cafe’s closed glass doors. Intoxication wafted off of him like how the sweet smell of sugar would waft off of a cake.

“Pretty shoes,” he said as he leered further down the sidewalk, his grin lop-sided and cocky, “I like your hair.”

[ameliaxmartin-blog]

“Okay, I admit winters here are long, but they’re so beautiful--and it’s not like there’s nothing to do.” Admittedly, when she first moved here, Amelia herself was dubious about surviving a long, overcast winter in a place where it snowed a few times a week, but she quickly grew to love it once she figured out driving after a hefty snowstorm and found things to enjoy about the snow itself and cold weather. “I can teach you to snowboard? Or ski? Or you could do the whole... ice fishing thing but you are alone for that--I’m still not convinced the lake is not alive. And then there’s getting cozy with somebody... You know, fun stuff.” Not that she would know anything about that, but it was a nice thought. Even still, enthusiasm and determination bled into her voice all the same.

[xmichael-lawson]

The holidays were always Michael’s favorite time of the year like it was for most people. Although his house was fully decorated and he wore the Christmas spirit proudly it was just not the same without his wife around. What should’ve been sheer joy felt like complete loneliness and there was nothing the man could possibly fill that void with. Nevertheless, it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. 

The Christmas parade was something he couldn’t miss and once Mike noticed that people were making their own ugly Christmas sweaters he was sold. It had been a good thirty minutes now since he had been working on his masterpiece, although it certainly looked like the effort of an eight-year-old. He brought the sweater up in the air, proud of his creation — the point was for it to be ugly right? “What do you think? Perfect? I don’t know how I’m going to put it on but at least it looks...festive.”

[codecooper-blog]

Cooper had a list of things he had to accomplish, after returning to Portchester. At the top of said list was hug his mother. Years and years of not doing so had built up, culminating in heart-wrenching letters, and grainy but obviously misty-eyed FaceTime calls. She’d greeted him at the airport with a squeeze the pushed the air right out of him, and he’d determined right then and there that he’d give her a hug a day for all of the days he’d missed.

Somewhere on that list was get a job, figure out his major, learn how to live a life beyond the military, but none of that was important. Hugging his mother was important, and...he pushed a tack through a piece of paper, and into the telephone pole behind it, leaving a small, circular indent on his thumb. It proudly proclaimed Thursdays Dungeons and Dragons night at his (mother’s) place, new and experienced players welcome, please Dear God satisfy his need to high fantasy roleplay.

There really was no better way to announce his triumphant return than to traipse right through the middle of downtown, proudly hanging D&D posters. “God I hope this works.”

[naiaguerrero]

It wasn’t rare for Naia to be sitting in a bar in the middle of the night. In fact, at this point, it would’ve been odd if that wasn’t the case. After a while, just drinking usually became boring and the girl went back home to sleep off the tipsiness, but tonight she didn’t want to leave early — it was her first night off in weeks and she needed some fun.

“What if I made you a deal?” The redhead asked as she turned to face the person next to her. “I’ll pay for all your drinks tonight if you manage to get the cute bartenders number,” she challenged, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “You in?”

[archxrfoss-blog]

                                Standing on the overgrown lawn of an old house, white picket fence not so white anymore, and not so intact either, Archer looked at the decaying home with lightly narrowed eyes. The windows were boarded up, and even from the distance, he could see the rot in the wooden porch, abandonment lingering in every little detail. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned around to see a person heading in his direction, eyeing an opportunity for potential information. “Hey,” he started, catching their full attention. “—you know who used to live here?”

[beccajenner-blog]

Rebecca brushes her hair from her face after placing her car in park. She closes her eyes, allowing herself a single deep breath. She unbuckles her seat belt, stepping out of the side-door, and mentally running a list of her morning to-do’s. Kids in pre-school-- check. Dinner in the crock-pot-- check. Laundry in-- check. She relaxes slightly, pulling open the door to the coffee shop. The line is short, but feels as if takes ages, Becca needing something to jolt her awake after just a handful of hours of sleep. The person before her in line struggles to find change in their pocket. In a rare moment of frustration, Rebecca slaps a five down on the counter, “On me,” she says, smiling, though there’s a bit of intensity in her eyes. She glances at the barista, “I’ll have a latte.”