trvings

[trvings]

𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚊  𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚛𝚘𝚎 :

Location: Kings Haven Dog Park Status: OPEN

Cam was over the scenery already. A downfall she never was truly able to conquer: her easily-bored trait. Though, two weeks is a new record for her. She wasn’t necessarily paying attention to who was nearby, only knowing a familiar face caught the corner of her eye. “What does a girl gotta do to have some fun around here? Cum on a cracker?” Her head dramatically falling back in order for her to groan for emphasis.

The blonde had ended up at the dog park, somehow getting roped into dog sitting a friend’s Alaskan Malamute. She’d always loved dogs but had never been great at maintaining the life form of living things — plant mom she was not. Her work and travels had her too preoccupied to hardly take care of herself, let alone another being. However, a favor was a favor. Squinting into the sunlight, Palmer chuckled at one of the only other people in close vicinity to her. She looked around — clearly the girl had been talking to herself, but the woman just couldn’t help herself. “Well, it would be pretty hard to cum on a cracker, so I say it’d be pretty impressive to say the least. I guess that’s one way to relieve boredom, no pun intended,” she offered in her usual dry tone.

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𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 :

status: open location: kings haven hotel bar

it’s been 45 minutes and she’s already waiting on that second tequila shot. the burger she ordered hadn’t been served yet and she wondered if they were butchering the poor beast in the back. okay so she’s a little impatient but she’s hungry and in a very particular mood. the meeting was a success, but once again she was shafted to just getting the coffee and stupid pastries. she was more than that, and everyone knew it, which made it absolutely worse. “ listen, do you think i could actually get a double? no, i won’t start getting annoying this time, i promise. ” 

it was funny, how she’d end up at the bar on nights she felt trapped within the confines of the four walls of her apartment — at least not haha funny. she’d stared at the words on her screen so hard they’d practically jumped out at her like some 3-D animated movie. maybe it was the sleep depravation, but she needed to leave the house and shake loose a new perspective. it was too late for a run and even then the warm honeyed liquor was calling her name. perhaps she’d stop by the liquor store and pick up a few cheap bottles of wine for later. she glanced at the patron next her, she’d seemed obviously agitated by something, like her impatience was a symptom to something else ( whenever was it  — ugh psych minor coming in hot .. ). despite her best instincts, “you okay ? you look about to slaughter the place .. or pee yourself.”

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now  𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈  .  .  .  !

♕ ( N/A / 32 / cis female / she, her ) — did you see PALMER MCGARRETT wandering around the island today? they kind of look like ELIZABETH OLSEN from certain angles? i heard around town that the JOURNALIST is OBSERVANT, and TENACIOUS, but also SARCASTIC, and JADED. people say that they remind them of 6AM MORNING JOGS TO SILENCE EXTRANEOUS THOUGHTS, AN EMPTY REFRIGERATOR ASIDE FROM TWO DAY OLD TAKEOUT AND EXPIRED YOGHURT, and LATE NIGHTS STARING AT THE GLOW OF A LAPTOP SCREEN, and THIS IS ME TRYING by TAYLOR SWIFT is definitely their theme song. they seem like a nice enough person, but we all know how hard it is to keep a pristine reputation in a small town.

character inspos: cristina yang  (  grey’s anatomy  )  , chandler bing  ( friends  )  ,  jesse mariano  (  gilmore girls  ), spencer hastings  (  pretty little liars  )  .

trigger warnings : gaslighting  , mentions of alcoholism and drug use  ,  sexual  pressure  /  ignoring of consent .

as the eldest mcgarrett sibling, there came the usual pressure to be perfection personified, not only to provide a shining example to your younger siblings, but to be able to be a golden example your mother could parade around to bolster her reputation as a senator woman and mother. you were the accomplished younger mirror image of your mother. advanced classes, extracurriculars filling your timetable  — tennis, cello, horseriding, debate club. there was no time you pencil in to decide whether any of those things were actually what you wanted.

high school especially was the time to exceed. your future is in your hands your mother constantly reminded you. this is the time to put your best foot forward. in lamens terms  — don’t screw up. you were the head cheerleader type with actually being one, cheer wasn’t your thing, your nose was busy buried in books, outdoors doing various competitive sports and using your gift with words to excel in defeating others and leading them. you planned all the school socials, brought pride to your school that would rival people’s patriotism and were popular with people.

you liked to think your intelligence and hard work were the main factors in why you were so popular and were praised when excelled in things. you had it in your head for a time that you were almost better than everyone  — not that you would ever utter than aloud. but a small kgnawing part of you knew that nothing worked better than the fact that you were a senator’s daughter. the golden girl, the it girl. rich, popular, smart. you couldn’t escape the the frame you were placed in, not that you wanted to flee, right?

you were well on your way to your dream school of columbia, your high school sweetheart had his aspirations of becoming a lawyer, while you had fallen in love with journalism. it was perfect, almost too good to be true  — and it was. life had apparently been going too well for you. prom night was approaching and for the fiftieth time, xander assumed and continued to brush off her reservations about it being the night. it wasn’t as though you was scared, but you weren’t sure you loved him. how were you to know? you were only seventeen.

 taking such an important step, meant something to you. you wanted to care about the person and you wanted to know giving a part of yourself meant trusting the other with a piece of you. it was a shame that it turned out you couldn’t. perhaps you knew for awhile now.   — a torn dress, awkward fumblings and after a final slap, you broke up with him and defiantly decided to walk home as he idled the car next you. it had been an eye opening experience, a part of you closed off to the world after that night. trust would be harder to earn from you.

you eventually gave yourself to a woman. you’d had your first drink at twenty one, she was beautiful and you enjoyed the attention she garnered onto you. high on the buzz you danced the night away, she showed you what it meant to have fun and let your hair down. she told you of her dreams for her band and it was romantic. staring up at the stars, smoking cigarettes on her balcony  — it had felt right.

half way through your degree you met a man who would become your future fiancée. she had a boyish grin, made you laugh and had similar interests. you chatted for hours about the same books you’d read and debated the topic of politics. he seemed to be your perfect match in every way. he was patient and kind and the way he looked at you made your heart flutter. once again you were conned. you had caught him at the house talking to your mother when your tennis practice was cut short because you sprained an ankle. it had all been a set up.

it was then that you realized that all your life you had been controlled. you were perfect, but it still wasn’t enough. you needed to maintain perfection and it needed to be the definition your mother expected, it was in her image you needed to uphold. you broke, fled to london, dyed your hair, dabbled in too much booze and recreational drugs. you decided to flee thousands of miles away from your parents the mcgarrett name, ( you kept in touch with your siblings, the only family you acknowledged ) the expectations and what you thought you wanted. you went to find yourself.

wanted connections: best friend / ride or die  ,  people she’s met / roomed with in nyc or london  ,  childhood friends / neighbour  ,  past flings / hookups  .  i’m up for literally anything, please hmu guys ! will set up a connections page v soon !

[trvings]

𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚖𝚎𝚛  𝒎𝒄𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕   :   thirty2   ,   journalist   /   free lance photographer ,   elizabeth olsen   .

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dependent muses exclusive to kingshavenhqs , penned arduously by moon !