• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern growing up in seattle - main thread







mood
nervous. intrigued.


location
School.



outfit
This + a jean jacket.



mentions







walk around fearless



artem andrews




A fresh start. It was exactly what Artem wanted, and even needed, in this new and unfamiliar place. Tightening her grip on her backpack, the girl looked down at her schedule as she pushed open the office doors, only to smack into someone. “Oh shit!” She inhaled sharply, her paper falling slowly from her hands. Immediately she bent down to grab it, only for the boy before her to get to it first. “No, I’m sorry!” She assured, trying to take responsibility for the bump in the hallway. After all, she didn’t know the place and surely wasn’t paying attention to where she was going.

Slowly, Artem stood back up, biting down on her lower lip awkwardly as he fiddled to get the paper out from under the chair. Her eyes stayed on him until he finally stood, then she looked to the side before returning her gaze back to him. She didn’t want him to think she was staring or anything else weird, that was the last thing Artem needed. “Oh, no, yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry.” She shook her head with a small smile. “Are you okay?” The girl followed in suit, feeling guilty now for not looking where she was going. “Sorry you had to crawl around to get that, I totally could’ve.” She sighed, only to realize she was talking incredibly fast.

With a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, only to notice him looking her over. With a raised brow, she was suspicious, but then he introduced himself and she quickly realized it was because she was, technically, ‘the new girl’.

Before she could introduce herself, an older woman came down the hallway, calling to the boy. She looked familiar, but Artem couldn’t place her finger on it until Ben said her name. Right. Ms. Man-something, during their meeting with her and her parents she had been sure to tell Artem to simply call her ‘Ms. M’, which was weirdly casual compared to her old school. At her request to the golden haired boy, Artem parted her lips as if to say it was fine, but the woman was already leaving.

Tongue in cheek, Artem turned back to him, a small, almost apologetic smile on her face. Before she could tell him it wasn’t necessary though, he was already helping with her schedule. “Ben.” She nodded, hoping to be able to remember his name, “I’m Artem. It’s nice to meet you.” Finally. It felt weird not introducing herself earlier, but they had been interrupted.

He seemed nice enough and genuine too which was rare for guys her age, or maybe it was just guys from her old school… Either way, it seemed Ben was a good first student to meet. At his offer to walk her to classes, the blonde smiled, ready to say no only to cock her head at the mention of a jail and mental hospital. “Okay, um, if that’s true then please help me get to my classes. I don’t want to get lost and murdered by ghosts.” She laughed, hoping the joke would land. It would be mortifying if it didn’t.

“An indoor pool?” She gasped, “No way, that’s sick!” Her excitement shone through her nervousness, but then he brought her to a glass cabinet with trophies and photos. It was all soccer. Her dad told her they had a pretty good team, but Artem was still on the fence about trying out. Maybe this was a sign though. What are the odds the first person she meets was also on the soccer team? At least, she assumed he was.

Pursing her lips, the girl admired the trophies and looked over the pictures, seeing his face in at least a few of them. “Are practices open for everyone?” Artem turned back to him with a raised brow, “I was captain back home, just don’t know if I’m gonna try out yet.” She admitted, not trying to brag but- Well, no, maybe she was bragging a little. She actually preferred playing co-ed, it was usually rougher which made it more fun. Then, she asked, “Are you trying out?”








/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 










A






filler! ignore









S






filler! ignore














  • Alex Smyth



    The Rebel








♡design by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡
 










T






filler! ignore









W






filler! ignore














  • Tori Wheeler



    The Overachiever








♡design by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡
 












jack soren ronnenfelt

♫/high and dry - radiohead/♫



mood

sleepy, anxious, honestly wants to die, trying to be optimistic?


location

otw to school


oufit

b09c49bfa5a4bc3bfb79175268524e78.jpg
f8ae5a3968282160a9b7d54a727643a8.jpg
5cd6d8c6e15298f83d720062282079b3.jpg
b9e7fe2d452b8590eaa86ed9aa3c9fc6.jpg


tag

haru Miaow Miaow



jack accepted the crinkled paper and shoved it in the pocket of his jeans. he usually’d make time to count it out, but he knew this guy of all people wouldn’t scam him.

“cousin.”--corrected the freckled boy sternly before checking over his shoulder at the person of mention.

as jack looked away from the quick gaze he shared with the girl he took one last hit of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground before them–using the bottom of his shoe to idly put the butt out. oh.. she looked over..--whatever.

well, he did the same didn’t he?

“yeah, where’d you go over winter? i had to do family christmas sober. it sucked.”

jack chewed the inside of his lip for a moment not returning any eye contact for the lie he was about to present. he’d do it with the utmost nonchalance though–something he nearly perfected over the years. it was useless telling haru the truth about his whereabouts anyway. no need to give this kid any sort of reason to stop giving him money.

“california. with..my dad–’was whatever.” he shook his head with another shrug, his eyes narrowing in on the crushed leaves again–this time inching their way up to the girl’s combat boots. no, not right now. stop looking at her. she doesn’t matter.

“anyway yea, ill see you around or something.” he said bluntly, his hand already on the door–a quick escape from any more wretched small talk. jack wouldn’t even look over his shoulder to acknowledge a proper goodbye, wanting to get out of that situation as a whole. he had his money. there was nothing left to be said.

sure, it was probably kind of rude. but everyone sort of knew this type of behavior from him well. maybe some saw through his insensitive stoicism and shifty demeanor for what it really was: anxiety–probably just his closest confidants though. most just singled him out as a dull, gloomy and perplexing figure. jack didn’t really care either way. he knew he was offputting and misanthrophic. it would feel weird if he tried hard. he didn’t try hard at anything. whether he liked it or not, it was just a fact of life at this point. how did it get to this point anyway?

it would always be reduced to apathetic shrugs and scoffs to cope with if it wasn’t the drugs. and well, he didn’t really know how to change that part of him. or if he even wanted to bother with the task.

after the door was shut, he went straight to his room to finish packing the rest of the essentials. small baggies of whatever he had left in his possession–for the kids who’d message him in between classes or at break. as well as pens and a tattered notebook: 80% drawings and lyrics, 20%...math?

now the realization of school approaching dawned on him with the wearisome of his tired mind. he could feel the skin on his eyes and face like a heavy mask. his stomach was starting to hurt too–obviously washing that suboxone down with hot coffee would torture him all day. jack threw his backpack and on the peeling island table and attempted to find something to eat last minute–opening the fridge to absolutely nothing except a random array of condiments.

upon shutting it in a placid disappointment, the boy read a note that caught his eye.
–left magneted on the fridge: “jack-jack if you’re back, i’m coming home on friday–the 12th! see you soon baby”
a sweet sentiment, really. only for the fact that it was thursday the 18th and no trace of mom was anywhere to be found–her car collecting dust in the driveway and so had everything else in this stupid house.

he rubbed his eyes, touching the notebook paper and contemplating for a second whether he wanted to throw it in the trash.

he did.

fuck i hate being sober.

jack watched the clock tick for what felt like forever. he knew if he didn’t leave for school soon, he’d just be late and have to walk into first period with more eyes on him than he wanted on the first day back. the thought prompted a half-hearted walk to the front door to pick his skateboard up and at least sit outside the concrete steps. the pair of mistakable siblings were gone by then.

he tilted his head up to watch a few cars speed down the road in front of him. a couple of middle school kids waiting for the late bus. and then finally..

a black cat approaching him with agile steps, stopping for pets he allocated with momentary pleasure before she hopped onto his window sill and disappeared into his room.

i guess that’s my cue to go.

jack threw the hood of his sweatshirt over his head as he walked through the metal gate to throw his skateboard the ground. he’d push hard. not to get to school any quicker than he had to be, but because it felt good. he collected that feeling with the small amount of enthusiasm he could muster–feeling the wind impel against his clothing and exposed skin. that good feeling. cold and apace. he could skate again. he didn’t have to go back to room 4 with the broken light fixture and leaky ceiling. he could skate as far as he wanted to now. and even though he couldn’t at the moment, maybe the acknowledgement was enough.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 






mood
nervous but excited


location
his locker with mallory



outfit
football jersey and black jeans



mentions







please move for the prom king



sam grants



Sam felt pride arriving in his new car, it was a black BMW with white accents. His father had given him his new car for his birthday that had occurred this summer. They didn’t talk much especially since his parents spend most of his summer in Costa Rica, in their summer house.
But none of that matter as he flaunted his new car in the parking lot of school.
Sam definitely noticed some of the girls staring but got distracted by a text from Mallory. The two got back together, well, today and it was something. He knew she was frustrated waiting for him and so he hurried his pace to the lockers but got stopped a few time by some friends.
This weekend was wild and it seemed everybody remembered, a party at Sam’s house always meant a lot of free booze and skinny dipping.

As he approached his locker, Mallory made his palms sweat a little. The short brunette waiting in front of his locker was intimidating, to say the least.
He embraced her from behind and held her tightly, ‘guess who?’ He teasingly asked before turning around and pressing his lips on hers before she could say anything.
‘I think I just walked into the most beautiful girl in school and not to mention, prom queen of this year.’ Yes. Maybe he was trying to be extra nice to not get walked all over by this queen, just not in the morning.
‘So, I have practice in like half an hour, we can meet up after? Maybe catch up on you know,’ he gently touched her lips as a smirk appeared on Sam’s face.
He sure missed this brunette.









/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

mood: calm, cool, collected
outfit: lavandar long sleeve crop top, pleaded denim miniskirt, pink chunky sneakers
Interactions: TheVoidQueen TheVoidQueen Twin Fantasy Twin Fantasy
Lexi
what's up - fanclubwallet

Reading the text Lexi groaned, stomping her foot on the ground. Fuck. Taking her backpack off and setting it down in front of her. Kneeling down whilst tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and unzipped the smallest pouch, taking out a small ziplock bag. In it were two pills. She was hoping that Leon had something, Lexi was running low on drugs and she really needed these pills to last at least a few more days. Whatever. I can get drugs anytime. She though before zipping her bag back up, tucking the baggie in her waistband before pulling her phone out.

"I got some k. be there soon ;p" She sent the text, scrolling up through their past conversations for a bit before getting up and making her way over to the bleachers. Deciding to cut through the field. The grass was still wet with morning due, unfortunately soaking Lexis shoes and socks as she trekked her way through. As she made her way closer to the bleachers she could see a figure sitting, and another one standing in front of them.

Lexi bit the dead skin on the inside of her cheek as she walked up the steps. As she got close she banged loudly on the metal, sending vibrations throughout the whole row of seats. "Hey." She smiled down at Leon, her eyes flicking to Vera for a brief moment before returning to the boy. "Who's she?" Lexi questioned, not even looking at her. It seemed kinda bitchy, but she really wasn't in the mood to make new friends right now. All she wanted to do was get high, and catch up with her good friend.

Sitting down on the left to Leon, finally looking up at Vera, giving her a disinterested look. Looking her up and down she noticed her style was quite...different. But it fit her. She actually looked like someone Lexi would get along with. But now is not that time. She leaned her body against Leon, reaching over to snatch the join from in between his fingers. Holding it between her index and middle finger, taking a drag from it, inhaling the smoke, and blowing it out. She used her thumb to flick the filter, sending a small ball of ash falling to the floor.

Leaning back, using her hands to prop herself up, crossing her right leg over her left. "I'm Lexi." She offered a small smile, bringing the joint back to her lips and taking a longer drag, the crackling of the burning flower filling the silence. Exhaling the puff of smoke off to the side, reaching over to pass the joint back to Leon, chuckling as she tried to place it between his lips. The thing about Lexi is that when she smokes pot, she gets high fast, already starting to feel the effects of the weed.



º º code by ditto º º
 









Thea Birch was always the type of girl to be on top. Whether that be in classes or in the social hierarchy, Thea always found her way to being the best of the best and she preferred it to stay that way. She was what one would call the it-girl, always being the best and never going without was her game. The redhead led the perfect life with her father in local government and mother being a teacher, they were the picture perfect family. Of course, pictures don’t always tell the full story though.

Her father had a drinking problem, one that always got worse around election season. Usually his frustrations would be taken out verbally on her mother, however if Thea said or did one wrong thing, the attacks could just as easily turn on her. It wasn’t the perfect life that most assumed when they saw her, but it was Thea’s reality, regardless of whether she wished it was or not.

Today was the first day of Thea’s senior year and she wanted it to be perfect. From her carefully curated outfit to the soft waves in her hair, her outward appearance matched what she was feeling on the inside; confident and excited. Since it was still cold in Seattle, the girl grabbed her coat off of the back of a velvet chair in her room before hurrying out to the driveway and to her car. The Corolla was a gift from her father for Christmas, one that she was extremely thankful for, but also couldn’t help but feel it was bought out of guilt for the way he sometimes treated her and her mother. Still though, it was a nice car and Thea surely wouldn’t be bringing up her concerns out of fear it may lead to an argument.

The drive to school was a short one, but she arrived rather late for her standards so the parking situation was not as she usually saw it. Finally though, she saw a spot near the back lot and went for it, honking when someone else tried to take it. Shaking her head, the girl tried to tell the other car to back off, but it was all for nothing as it pulled in anyway. “Shit.” Thea swore, driving off to look around again for an empty spot. It seemed like there was literally nothing until finally she watched a blue minivan pull out from a spot up front. Finally, some good luck to start off this year.

Once her car was parked, Thea got out and locked the doors, sliding her keys into her green purse and beginning the clicking of her heels as she walked into the school. There were both familiar and unfamiliar faces roaming the hallway, she even noticed a traffic jam near the front office but chose to continue walking. The redhead went for her locker, the same one she’d had since freshman year and put all of her new books in it except for one; AP Calc. It was her first class of the day and one she was actually looking forward to. Math was her easy class, there was only one right answer and once you got it you didn’t have to explain yourself or anything, it was just right. Math was short and simple, just the way she liked it. Finally shutting her locker back, she picked her backpack up off the floor and made her way to the math wing, hoping that whichever teacher she got would be at least somewhat decent.








the it-girl



thea.








  • filler tab!





♡coded by uxie♡
 







marshall kang






STOP! READ THIS BEFORE YOU CONTINUE

TW FOR MENTIONS OF ABUSE, BLOOD,
DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, VIOLENCE

Viewer discretion is advised.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺​

In hindsight, Marshall should've seen it coming.

If Avian disappeared on him for three months with minimum contact, he would've tracked him down and confront — more like beat the shit out of him for making him worry — him. Instead of trying to mend the rift, Marshall latched on the gap like a feral street cat and ripped it wider.

Of course Avian doesn't take it lying down.

So you have to fix your friend’s fuck-ups?

Marshall bristles in response. His best friend is making it very hard to remain calm. "It's called trying to stop my best friend from killing another friend. Don't give me that bullshit, Ave. You're acting as if we haven't fixed each other's fuck-ups. Do I need to remind you?" he deadpans. For a moment, Marshall reminds himself that this is Avian, not a random nobody. As much as he wants to punch his friend for being a stubborn asshole, Marshall doesn't want to hurt him.

He doesn't want to hurt Ayden either. The sharp-tongued skateboarder is his friend. While he doesn't know much about Ayden — the annoying shit likes to hoard details about himself like a dragon — Marshall knows enough.

He figured out his friend's favorite colors, snacks, drinks, and skateboard tricks. After a lot of digging, he — Ayden is a private shit, but Marshall is a persistent bastard — suprised his friend with a cupcake on his birthday.

While Ayden gave him crap for singing the birthday song, he ate his cupcake. They might talk shit to each other, but it's rarely serious.

When he sees a friend in need, he'll intervene without hesitation. Marshall protects his friends, consequences be damned.

Unfortunately, both of them are his friends.

If his friends hate each other, Marshall is forced to play peacemaker.

He hates it. He doesn't have the patience to be a diplomat. If there's a fight, Marshall is the first to throw a punch. However, he can't afford to lose his temper and make things worse.

Ayden is hurt bad. Screw the school nurse, his friend needs an — even if the thought of stepping inside the sterile deathtrap makes his skin crawl and throat tighten — ambulance. "Avis..." His dark expression softens. "I'm still on your side. I know how you feel when Martina is hurt. I can help her. Let's just skip and you can tell me the latest upgrade. I see you switched to my wax. I told you it would be worth it," he murmurs.

Marshall sees the look under his best friend's sunglasses. He can hear the accusatory words inside his mind. It echoes inside his head like a broken record.

You're on his side and not mine?

Each word cuts through him like a dagger. Marshall wants to scream at Avian for accusing him of being disloyal like Anakin Skywalker when he joined the dark side. He didn't abandon him. Avian is his best friend, his ride and die. He didn't—

but he did. Avian hasn't seen him — school doesn't count — for three months. They called and texted a little. However, if Avian wanted to hang in person, Marshall came up with an excuse. He avoided Avian for weeks and now he's trying to waltz in his best friend's life like nothing happened?

Of course Avian questions his loyalty.

Marshall wants to prove his loyalty, but if Avian asks him why he avoided him—

How can Marshall explain what happened to him three months ago?

He can't break the ice with: Oh, the scar on my face? My abusive birth giver tried to murder me three months ago in a drunken rage. I still have nightmares about it. It gets harder to wake up every day because I feel like ending it all. By the way, I realized I'm in love with you. I tried to forget about it and move on, but I can't.

Yeah, hard pass.

It's why he moved in with Cam. When his old best friend realized what his birth giver — he refuses to call that woman his mother — did, he opened his doors without hesitation.

Marshall could've moved in with his twin sister and her adoptive parents. However, the last thing he wants is to burden her adoptive parents with his bad luck and family drama.

He doesn't want them to hate him.

"C'mon, man. I'll call an ambulance for Skater Boi and then we can— Avian, DON'T!"

It was too late.

He watches his best friend stomp on the skateboard and snap it into two.

Ayden never told him where the skateboard came from. However, Marshall knows his friend is deeply attached to his skateboard.

It's like his connection with Diana.

The moment Avian drops the broken skateboard, all hell breaks loose.

"Skater Boi, stop—!"

With a feral cry, Ayden shoves him to the side and launches at Avian. They collide on the asphalt with Ayden straddling Avian's chest. Marshall stumbles back, but he regains his footing. Once Ayden throws the first punch, he rushes forward.

"Hey, HEY! Talons in, Baby Hawk—"

Suddenly, a familiar voice washes over him.

What the fuck is wrong with y'all?

Before he can react, Cam appears and tackles Ayden to the ground. His best friend tries to pin Ayden, but his skater friend is stronger than he looks.

Marshall directs his attention to Avian when—

Just can't take you anywhere Marshy, starting fights and all.

He snorts in response. "Hey now, Marcy. I didn't throw the first punch," Marshall quips. He removes his sunglasses and hands them to Alex. "These are my favorite pair. Keep them safe for me, yeah? Oh, we need an ambulance. Skater Boi's face looks like he doused himself with blood like a cannibal. And his head is fucked. Can you call 911 while I deal with these dipshits? Thanks." He approaches Avian and offers a hand.

"You still in caveman mode, man? Or can I rely on you to help me prevent Skater Boi from ripping Hufflepuff's face off and wear it like a Halloween mask?" Marshall snarks.

If Avian insists on fighting, Marshall won't have a choice. He doesn't want to fight his best friend, but he won't let Avian touch Ayden or Cam.

Deep down, a part of Marshall wishes that he didn't leave the apartment this morning. Fucking Mondays.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
mood :
smug

location :
outside school
outfit :
mentions :
Mallory, Hyun, Marshall, Avi, Ayden, Cam

interactions :
weldherwings weldherwings floralmoon floralmoon TheVoidQueen TheVoidQueen Gao Gao roxybirdie roxybirdie
Narukami,
Oiwa
Click click click click click click click

This was incredible.

So first was the fucking face-plowing, head-smashing fuckery that barbecue boy got up to. A hilarious little mishap from a hilarious little guy. Oiwa never had any interest in him before, but now she wanted to interview him. How did it feel to pile-drive the queen bitch herself? Did you gain any sort of new insight? She almost wanted to be his friend, which she rarely ever said about any boys -- boys don't usually believe in friends, they just believe they can convert you out of lesbianism by buying you drinks and movie tickets. But this neek seemed so nervous he couldn't flirt his way out of a wet paper bag, so he probably wouldn't even try.

And nobody wants you, Oiwa. Nobody fucking wants you like that. Except for Tinder creeps looking for an anime waifu.

So she got a few shots of that, only for resident angry pinkie rat Marshall Kang to run over to a different fight. Some fucking weirdos that Oiwa didn't care about, but it WAS super funny to see all these grown men fighting over a car. ("Grown". Pfft.) She had to snap at least a few pics, even got a good one when the One Punch Man-looking guy snapped some other guy's skateboard in half. This wouldn't be much good for her blog, but it was quality content.

Dance for me, ladies. Dance!

If only she had a more expensive phone. People were right about the Android camera -- it sucked like a dugong filter-feeding. It sucked like an expensive vacuum. It sucked like Lauren Finley on a date with a man in his 40's. So everything kind of looked blurry and gross. She grunted at her phone.

"Piece of shit..."

Not like it mattered. You could still tell what was happening, so whatever.
coded by reveriee.
 
CONTENT WARNING FOR VIOLENCE + BLOOD oOOoO
OCTAVIAN DE LA VEGA
Fading light and wine on the
curtains,
sickly
fumes stain the
mouths
of the glasses. The
dry
mouth and the
bleary
eyes preside over the
misery
of their
battered
body, a hirsute
slippage
of time, a rod of
asceticism
in a treatise on
debauchery.

The lurch of gravity was only registered when his spine connected to the ground, sloughing skin against asphalt and sealing kismet of watercolour bruises; the most Ave could manage was trying to save his skull from the same fate.

Sunglasses dislodged and skittering over pavement, pain ground to dust between clenched teeth and stuck between the unyielding weight of Ayden clambering above and a four-fingered fist ready to strike, the brimstone calcifying between them was enough to stir Octavian’s blood to boiling.

There were moments in life when situations transcended translation, language stripped down to the sun-bleached bones of pointless syllables, unmoulded and messy; this was one of them. Drip-fed blood like a rodent to a feeder, streaking red dewdrop to Ave’s face, still warm from the burst vessels of Ayden’s nose.

The fist found its mark, hooking Ave and wrenching vision into black for only a moment. Flesh searing from their directionless rage, there was limitless fuel to Ayden’s hits, sourced from a stygian ravine long before the pages of their conflict unravelled, before even having set eyes on the school. But origin mattered naught, only the crest of their anger, the serrated peak to their emotion rippling out into waves of retribution against the shield of arms.

Mental issues! —All Ave could think as he tried to shelter his face from the flurry fired down from above. Throwing punches under ribs when manageable under physical toll, there was not much to do other than fall mercy to their battering.

Ave had never seen an animal with rabies, but he’d imagine this was no different. This seemed like the type of kid that would microwave their own hamster.

Deafened to the rush of adrenaline, Ave failed to notice the voice carving air till a momentous lurch had Ayden tackled out of view. Shedding silhouette from space above to display the sky coated red. Whether it was his own blood or Ayden’s geyser, baldy struggled to blink a sheen of vermillion as he pulled his tired body upright.

Brows scrunching as hands withdrew bloody from their sanguine gifts, Ave really hoped he wouldn’t contract any feral diseases from this, he’d level his gaze to the struggling pair; attacker and mystery saviour now fighting on the pavement.

A hand entered his orbit, eyes drawn to the offer of help, up their arm to the face of…

Of…?

Crop-top. This was Marshall.

Regret was quick to sink at the connection of who Hufflepuff referenced. Eyes flickering back to the pair, he felt the emotional tug; unforgiving. Like gossamer smoke unfurling along a cool pane of glass, Cameron. Once an extension of them, now severed with a frayed edge. The sting remained, vicious protection misplaced in someone, a friend, now turned adversary.

“Skater-kid would be doing his face a damn favor.” Daring not even speak the name, as if syllables would unearth cadaver from the regolith of his body. That corpse of friendship, soot-black and cold.

“I’m not helping, they're both lunatics.” Gratitude for Cam’s help was trespassing boundaries he himself had lined. A traitorous feeling he’d stifle under a blanket of borderless indifference. Without accepting Marshall’s hand, that careful divider left untouched between them, Ave got to his feet.

It had been some comfort to hear prior that Marsh was on his side, but could a double— no, triple-faced pendulum hold true to those words? Pulled taut between a three-way crossroad and awaiting an inevitable collision, it was not a game to be suspended in safety. Ave had listened to their recommendation, as he often did when it came to the topic of cars, but did that prove they were worthy of his time, and seemingly, in this instance, his patience?

Octavian refused to fathom why Marsh was drawn to such personalities. Both the rabies-kid and Cameron were fuck-ups nobody could fix. A screaming and very intrusive thought wanted to leave them on the concrete and throw petty kicks at them.

Ave controlled himself for Marshall’s sake.

“Come on,” breathing repentance and an annoyed look cast to the sky in a plea for: lord give me strength, the most Octavian was willing to do for he-who-shall-not-be-named was get him off the little psycho before the risk of rabies became destiny.

“Grab his other arm, we’ll haul him off before he gets bitten or some shit.”

coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
feelin' fighty

location :
outside school
outfit :
mentions :
Wendy, Marshall, Avi, Ayden, Cam

interactions :
Sugarnaut Sugarnaut weldherwings weldherwings TheVoidQueen TheVoidQueen Gao Gao roxybirdie roxybirdie
Sheary,
Noel
Noel grunted in irritation at his alarm clock -- a dinky old thing he'd had since childhood. His ol' man couldn't be bothered to get him out of bed, which meant it was his responsibility. And he hated responsibility. Wendy wouldn't wake him up because of something about developing good school habits. (Though her school habits were more for the gram than for the grades.) He grumbled and yawned and stretched and then had his morning smoke before throwing the cigarette butt out the window. Apparently that had caused a dumpster fire once, but that wasn't his problem.

On most mornings, he did his best to avoid speaking to his father -- a pretty easy thing, since he spent most his nights absolutely ossified and therefore most mornings sleeping off a hangover. Today, however, he was eyeballing Noel over a newspaper. Noel avoided eye contact.

"Headin' to school."

"Bring your sister with you." Not a question, an order. Noel mumbled out an okay even though Roosevelt was barely a stone's throw from their apartment building. Noel was hardly photogenic enough for Wendy's first day of school pics. He'd just stay out of them.

Thankfully, she didn't argue about it.

He led Wendy through the fraught streets of South Seattle, stepping over loose needles and sleeping drunks. He wouldn't hold her hand, since they'd long outgrown that kind of interaction, but he did keep a close eye on her, just in case. A silent protector, like a guardian angel, if angels can be missing so many teeth and wearing so many bruises. Wendy traded most of her streetwise knowledge for social media knowledge, at least as far as Noel could tell. Maybe she was secretly an expert.

Of course, there was one thing he knew about that was DEFINITELY out of Wendy's wheelhouse.

The source of those bruises was a pretty harsh shakedown he'd assisted with a few days prior. Some bloke owed the ol' Nan money and he was built like a freight train to boot -- if Noel hadn't had the assistance of another gang member, he probably would've been killed. That was sort of thrilling, in its own way. If I went missing, who would notice first?

Speaking of being out of Wendy's wheelhouse, the first thing he saw made his blood run ice cold. Already some drama going down. Noel tried to keep the gang stuff away from the school stuff, but sometimes it all just bleeds together. He recognized Avian immediately -- his superior, the man he'd move rocks for if he was told. He also recognized Cam, an admittedly well-formed enemy. On the floor was some bloke getting absolutely slaughtered by Cam.

Standing over Avian was some total poof in a crop top who looked like he'd walked right out of one of those queer clubs. Not that Noel had any issue with them, but he knew one when he saw it. Poof or not, the man was clearly standing with intent to threaten.

"Ren, could you gimme a mo? Wait. Better off, just go ahead without me." He ran over to the commotion. "AVI! I GOT YOU, MATE!" He rolled his sleeves up and quickly checked his pocket just to make sure he had a knife on hand -- just in case! This was of course, while he was running. He barreled into the streak-haired stranger, knocking him to the asphalt. (The only thing Marsh could probably see from the ground was a very nasty, toothy man a few years his junior.)

"You fuckin' with my boss, huh?" He fisted his hands in the stranger's collar, then looking up at Avian like a lost dog. "How bad you want me to hurt him? Huh?"

(What a fucking moron you are, Noel Sheary.)
coded by reveriee.
 










A






filler! ignore









S






filler! ignore














  • Alex Smyth



    The Rebel








♡design by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡
 







marshall kang






STOP! READ THIS BEFORE YOU CONTINUE

TW FOR MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, STRONG
LANGUAGE, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, VIOLENCE

Viewer discretion is advised.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺​

Instead of accepting his hand, Avian rises to his feet. The rejection stings.

Marshall bites back a wounded cry. Suddenly, a sinister whisper creeps inside his mind like a silver-tongued serpent. He hates you, it hisses with glee. It wraps around his heart like a python and squeezes tight. A sibilant laugh echoes inside his head. He can't stand the sight of you now. He doesn't want your loyalty, it croons mockingly.

The serpentine voice sounds suspiciously like his ex-boyfriend. It parts with a final message.

Give up and end it all, it hisses.

He shoves the pain deep, deep down and forces a grin on his face. "If you get bit, does this mean you'll bite me? I know I said biting is my kink, but rabies isn't my thing," he quips.

If Avian hates him, Marshall is throwing a quip or two before everything crashes down.

He approaches Cam and reaches for his arm.

"Hey, Puff—"

Suddenly, a body slams against his side.

"AVI! I GOT YOU, MATE!"

The sudden collision catches him off guard. Once Marshall loses his footing, gravity sinks its claws into him with vicious glee and drags him down. He crashes on the asphalt and lands on his back. The back of his head slams against the concrete, evoking a pained hiss. For a moment, his vision turns white and he sees stars.

He forgot about his hangover. The throbbing headache use to be a mild inconvenience. However, now — thanks to a deranged mutt — it feels like white hot daggers are penetrating the back of his skull. A few seconds later, his vision returns.

An angry gremlin is sitting on his chest. It grabs his collar and snarls in his face.

"You fuckin' with my boss, huh?

Boss? What? Marshall follows his gaze and spots Avian. A frown mars his lips. What the fuck? Why would this strawberry shortcake call Avi—

Suddenly, realization dawns on his face. However, since he's missing a few puzzle pieces — why the fuck would this ginger call Avian boss? — Marshall draws a different conclusion.

Avian replaced him.

Something inside him shatters.

Once Marshall locks eyes with Avian, the look is evident on his face. His deep brown eyes darken with hurt and betrayal. A single message reflects through his stricken gaze.

You replaced me with him?

He directs his attention to the feral dog on his chest. The flea-bitten mongrel looks at Avian as if he's waiting for his next command.

There's nothing between those ears. Pathetic.

Without warning, his pain and despair is replaced with pure and unadulterated rage.

This strawberry is Avian's new best friend?

Before he can react, a hand lashes out and grabs a fistful of the ginger's hair.

Listen Asshole ... I'm going to give you to three to get off my friend.

In retrospect, Marshall isn't surprised to see Alex step in. Telling her to not fight is like telling him to not play the guitar.

Thank Hades he had enough foresight to remove his backpack before the gremlin appeared and tackled him. If Persephone was damaged during the fight, he would've committed murder.

To be frank, it still sounds tempting.

Marshall seizes the strawberry's collar. His temper flares like a raging inferno. He's done playing peacemaker. "Paws OFF!" he roars. With a war cry, Marshall yanks the ginger down and slams his forehead against the boy's face. The pain is enough to make Marshall see stars again. However, he grits through the killer migraine and glares daggers at the stupid mutt. He shoves the ginger off of him and slips away.

Instead of ending the fight, Marshall lunges at the annoying strawberry. He pulls his fist back and lets it fly. "You want a fight, Garfield? I'LL GIVE YOU A FIGHT, YOU FUCKING STRAWBERRY!" He isn't holding back. Marshall is out for blood and Garfield is his next sacrifice for the Dark Lord.





/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 


CW: Catcalling, Stealing from Capitalism, Weapons, Little Sister Rage.
Platinum blondes have more fun and all the legit trend forecasters say the trend isn't ending any time soon. That’s why Wendy Sheary made sure her salon appointment was a few days before school, giving her lovely new hair time to heal before she shoved rollers in them the night before. She wanted to look perfect for the day. No - not for any boy in school just for herself. Her 70’s blowout looked so pretty against her freckled skin, and prettier when Wendy took the precise time to do her makeup. She had her bedroom door creaked open to keep herself updated on the time. She heard her father groaning awake to start a kettle for tea and only a few minutes later her brother’s interaction with their dad.

Take your sister.” Their dad’s voice didn’t boom as loud in the morning but Wendy still picked up her needed gear like it was a ticking time bomb. She was all smiles with her jeans and blue argyle vest when she ignored her dad to follow Noey out of their apartment. Wendy was ready for the first day back. Another semester of school meant more content to put out on her blog and instagram, and while Winter was cute with her going to the library to “take notes” on flowers, the content was already handed to her by her teachers.

The walk from their musty apartment to school wasn’t far and Wendy was ultra-grateful she broke in her new flowery Doc Marten mary janes before school. She was happy to even sneak them out of the store when a Karen and her step-daughter started to rage against the employees. On the way over, the gas station was the worst part of the journey. She held her composure as she walked closer behind Noey, even wishing he held her hand like when they were kids while they passed the two still drunk men who usually resided there. Noey wouldn’t know it but Wendy asked their dad to tell him to take her to school today. The two drunks would hoot and holler at her when she walked alone and it was the one thing that made her uneasy in the morning. Today, she was lucky with her big brother beside her - he wouldn’t know it either but she adored him more than anything. She wouldn’t tell him just so she kept her pride.

Ren, could you gimme a mo? Wait. Better off, just go ahead without me.” Her favorite brother was gone before she knew it. It was a familiar feeling now when Ren was always being left behind, even if they were already at school in safety. Noel always protected his kind and it was no surprise to Ren when she saw him tackling someone in a group of people. There was a large gathering of people around to spectate now, and no security in sight. Typical Roosevelt behavior but instead of giving the second to have Ren turn away and disengage, she spotted a brunette bitch pulling the back of Noey’s hair in a basic threat. A count of three? What was she? Their mom??? Wendy’s eyes locked in on the entire affair as she shoved her way through. Her new coach leather backpack having exactly what she needed as she whipped out the best weapon she got aimed it at the now shitty fighter with the shitty red money pieces in his hair who was now swinging at her brother.

OI!” Wendy’s screech pulled every part of her Irish accent out on display. She pulled the trigger of the airhorn to the shit fighter who needed an assist first before waving it around like crazy and firing the can’s screams in between her much more creative threat. This was her go-to weapon of choice when she needed to shut shit down, especially with anything Noel involved. Like an aggressive spray bottle for cats. If the fight didn’t garner attention to security now, it sure as hell did now. “ WE FIGHTIN’ ‘ERE? COS I DON’ FIGHT BUT I KNOW HOWS TO END IT!” The sophomore had the gull to intervene with upper classmen bullshit, and it was because of Noel, and she just wanted to go to school like normal. At this rate, Ms. Bimbo Revamped Mancini would have everyone at the gym talking about “respect” and “responsibility”. Not very good content for her blog at all. The upset of a little sister could destroy a whole vibe, and Ren used it when she saw fit.

Mentions roxybirdie roxybirdie Twin Fantasy Twin Fantasy neverbackdown neverbackdown Gao Gao TheVoidQueen TheVoidQueen weldherwings weldherwings Wendy has joined the fight.~
Rendy

Cis | Femme | Hetero | Libra
here for the party - gretchen wilson

coded by weldherwings.
 
tw; violence, childhood abuse, ptsd, blood













.scroll












Distorted Light Beam (Reprise)
— Bastille








mood
why is marshy fighting that random man ;-;


outfit
the fit


interactions
Marshy


tags
roxybirdie roxybirdie












Minyoung Dam


― "the smol."




Minnie awoke to her alarm, her hair a matted mess on her pillow as she clutched her rilakkuma plushy tight to her chest. Her bed was more of a pile of blankets than an actual bed, she was barely visible within the mess of plushies. She stretched, a few plushies falling off as she moved. Even though she was pretty excited for her first day back, getting out of bed was still the hardest part.

It was understandable that her house would be cold, it was mid-January, after all, however her house didn't exactly have heating, either. She wrapped herself in as many blankets as she could carry and headed out into the kitchen, her bare feet padding against the cold tile.

"Good morning..."
She mumbled drowsily, though she got no response.
"Haewon?"
She called out, scanning their open-plan apartment. She seemed to be alone.

She let out a soft sigh, turning to open the fridge to get some cereal. She paused, the flourescent yellow post-it note stuck to the door catching her eye.
"Had to go to work early. Have a good first day at school! ♡"


Despite the cheerful message, Minnie frowned a little. Stupid work, making her sister go in early... What was the use of jobs, anyway? Who invented money... She hated them. Well... if she went early, maybe she'd be able to leave early, too!

She ate, got dressed, brushed her pearly whites and headed out of the door, jumping on her bike. She cycled to school pretty much every day, unless Haewon had the morning off, but that was pretty rare. In the spring and fall, this wasn't so bad, but cycling in freezing cold or sweltering heat made her wish she could drive a fancy car with air-conditioning and a dog-mode. Did she even need a license if it drove itself? Well, that was a question for 16-year-old Minnie.

She locked her bike up in the bike shed, triple checking she had done it properly. If that thing got stolen, she'd be screwed... Right, she had her backpack with her purse, pencil case, textbooks, notepads-- Hey, is that Marshy's car?
She smiled. Marshy was here already! Of course, Haewon was her real sister... Well, half sister, but Marshy and Eris were basically her siblings, too. She ran across the parking lot, excited to see him after such a long winter break! She hoped they had some classes together, maybe they could have lunch togeth--

She slowed as she heard his farmiliar voice, but not how she was used to. She'd never really heard him angry before... Marshy was never really angry. She approached his car, peering down the side. Her whole body tensed and froze as he swung his fist at whoever that man was. Marshy never hit... anyone.

She cowered behind her bed in the arms of Haewon, covering her ears with her hands, but it was useless. She could still hear the yelling from the kitchen. She was ruining her new shirt with a mixture of blood and tears as Haewon tried her best to wipe them away with just her hands. She'd spilled her drink at dinner, ruining the food her mother had worked so hard to make. She said sorry, she said sorry over and over again, but nothing was enough to calm her down.

She almost jumped out of her skin as an airhorn sounded, blinking the tears from her eyes. It wasn't her business what Marshy did, really... Why did she care so much about him? She swallowed, trying to urge her legs to move.







coded by xayah.ღ
 
Last edited:





a

y

d

e

n







THE SKATER BOY





trigger warning
mention of blood and abuse

scroll for post


Ayden Thompson

An eye for an eye

While the bald child’s emotions were valid in his sorrow over the piece of junk he had deemed worthy enough to be named, it was the reaction that warranted Ayden’s behaviour. With no understanding bone in his body, why would Ayden be sympathetic? What happened between the car and Ayden’s cranium had purely been accidental. His skateboard, however, had been intentional. This cancer kid must’ve been terminal because he obviously had a death wish. How was he meant to keep his cool after someone went out of their way to cause harm to his belongings? In all honesty, the bald man deserved the swings thrown his way, colliding with his stupidly smooth curved head.

The crowd around them gathered, watching the commotion through the screens of their mobile devices, pondering how many views and likes they’ll get on this little golden piece of evidence. People even going far to cry out yeh, get him!, celebrating and encouraging the violence before them. The world was a sick, sad place, and this was just a prime example of the downfall of our generation. But none of that registered within his mind right now. The one-way train of thought chugging through his internal railways was focused on making the man below him feel what he was feeling on the inside, but on the outside. And he would’ve kept going if he was given the opportunity. Arms clasped around his frame, he felt gravity take its course as he was torn from his battle stance upon Ave and flung to the floor. This time, as the victim.

Hands clasped around his forearms and wrists; he was trapped. He was… trapped. Anxiety rose from his gut's pits to his chest as visions flashed before his eyes. The darkness of the night, illuminated by the lamp on the bedside locker that he used as a night light. One was meant to feel safe within their house, within their bedroom, but he was not. Just as his eyes came to a close, hoping to find some tranquillity in riding the clouds of his dreams and jumping across lilypads, hands from another were placed upon his body. Eyes wide once more, he was no longer playing leapfrog with the frogs in the mosquito-ridden ponds, but rather fighting for consent. His lips bruised as the alcohol-infused male had his way, pinning him down with all his might and strength. His body was large, crushing the much younger boy beneath him.

Get off of me” Ayden managed to wrestle out, his voice strangled and robbed of its volume as it came out in a hissed whisper. His chest felt tight as if this mystery person who was sitting upon him was the size of an elephant. The hands began to tighten, and his pounding heart could take no more. Was he having a heart attack? Well, it seemed pretty close to it. Wriggling and struggling to be released from the claws of this person, Ayden repeated himself, his volume slowly regaining it’s strength but still weak. “Get off of me!” He could feel the tears beginning to build in the corner of his eyes as the frustration built up within him. No, you can’t cry here, he thought to himself. Grinding his teeth, he continued to struggle underneath the weight of the other male, ignorant to the chaos that was ensuing around him.

It was when the sound of the air horn echoed that Ayden was able to gather any sort of recognition of what was happening around him. His head tilted to see the mess that Marshall had gotten himself into, the size of the crowd around them, and the new additional faces who had wandered over in hopes of breaking up the fight. But this was it; everyone was distracted. Ayden turned to look up at the man on top of him. And while he knew this person was a student of this fine school, and he knew that he was far too young to be anyone else, all he could see was his Uncle’s face. Rage, once more, radiated through his body at the sight of the man. The hands pinning down his arms melted into the already burnt memories of his Uncle’s handy work over the many years. Nostrils, coated in crusted dry blood, flared, and his voice found its true volume.

I said get off of me!

Ayden bellowed, finding all his strength to raise his head from the floor and whacking his forehead right into the face of the other male in one swift movement. It seemed as if his head was finally good for something today.








/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.


 






mallory




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



filler






  • home (filler tab)



































Dounia & Kehlani



Rich Girl Mood








Sweaty palms reach around and cover Mallory's eyes, a voice then spoke up, "Guess who?" She already knew that it was Sam, but when ahead and tried to give an answer, but before she could, the boy walked to stand in front of her. He planted a kiss on her lips and then stepped back. "I love you, but you just put so much sweat on my face, my makeup better not have budged." There was always something for her to complain about, but this was typical of her.

I think I just walked into the most beautiful girl in school and not to mention, prom queen of this year." This statement made Mallory grin, she absolutely loved being complimented and when it came from Sam, it was even better. She leaned in and gave him an embrace, almost engulfing the two in the scent of perfume that had been applied that morning by the girl.

Sam then mentioned something about having football practice or whatever sport he was playing, there wasn't much interest from the girl in the sport aside from being a cheerleader. Being one just means that she had more attention and could be in the spotlight frequently.

Shoulders moving in a shrugging motion, Mallory looks him in the eyes, "Well, I guess we can meet between classes. They wouldn't let us run for prom court if our grades drop." She mentions to him, prom was one of the most important things in Mallory's high school career.

Generally, she couldn't care less about her academics, but with the event coming up soon, there was no way that she would be jeopardizing this opportunity. Her hand reaches up to the boy's face and she caresses his cheek, no doubt did she miss spending time with him, especially after their break over the summer.

Sadly though, the two's relationship wasn't all rainbows and butterflies, they had a lot of ups and downs, some infidelity on Sam's side, and the occasional flirtatious interaction from Mallory. The only thing that really kept the two coming back to each other was school and any dances that would have some sort of voting system for court.






♡coded by uxie♡
 












lola violet davies

♫/blue pyramid - kikuo/♫



mood

anxious,spacey,intrigued


location

roosevelt high


oufit

ee7afeac8889fdae91e19872ca471da0.jpg
33de3a4ae291d79591c2426c29188419.jpg
0df9dd09f4e77905849625e3dd8be645.jpg
15a899fb7b0c769b0e9f058469faed11.jpg
6270b448b9757e878deda31b8c217db6.jpg
ea27e1729f846a8c885033140ad1b315.jpg


tag




an inquisitive lola shuffled out of the bathroom and down the hall to return to her spot on the steps. the school bell would be sure to ring in the next twenty minutes or so, but first period trigonometry wasn’t too far from the front door and she still wanted more time outside. she flattened the pink laced dress down behind her just in case–a nervous habit of hers that formed after having so many nightmarish experiences of her dresses being stuck in her tights so often in middle school. it wasn’t her fault she was so inattentive all the time. school was a figurative battle ground of energy and obscurity. there was only so much lola could focus on at once! after passing once more by a window reflection, she took a deep breath before pushing the door open. what she saw before her nearly tripped her down the stairs and into the scuffle going on at the foot.

school…really is a b-battle ground

the sight before her–a group of high school boys and a crowd forming around them to what looked very clearly like a fight breaking out. she knew better than to go get authority to break it up. they would.. eventually, but for now–jitters of intrigue yet mild fright went through her body. she scanned the crowd as she walked a little closer nearly bumping into a girl her height snapping photos of the affair, “oh! i’m sorry..” she said softly, glancing at the girl’s camera for a second before trying to get on her tippy toes to get a better look.

there. her eyes narrowed in on a fluff of strawberry blonde grabbing a hold of someones collar, but before she could understand what was going on a stranger bumped into her–causing her to bump into the red-headed girl again, “waa–i’m sorry–t-there’s so many people here.”--her face flushed in complete embarrassment. lola then lifted her head. something must have happened because the man she had her eyes on looked clearly stunned and seemed to have a menacing dark-haired boy over him spewing angry words in his face.

“w-what happened?? i–missed what happened!” lola said frantically, only quieting at the end of her words as if she expected an answer from the redhead but really she was just talking to herself in disbelief. she took a step back--gripping her backpack as she continued again with the tips of her toes, this time over the girl.






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 













.scroll












TALES OF DOMINICA
— by Lil Nas X








mood
answer


outfit
the fit


interactions
Kenzie Ronan


mentions
Carter Fallon ; Luke Tellegio


tags
Sugarnaut Sugarnaut












calliope


― "kind of a pretty boy, isn't he?"




Lexi's departure, sudden and unexpected, coupled with her weak attempt at providing comfort left Calli confused and more stressed than she previously had been. Had she said something to upset her blonde friend? Was she the one in the friendship that made the other feel small?

There was little comfort to be found in Lexi's last words. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she'd been expecting Lexi to say to her.
"Don't worry, he'll fall in love at first sight."
Stupid, he'd seen her plenty of times over the years.
"He's a great guy, you have nothing to worry about."
Stupid, she knew that was a lie even if she didn't hold it against him.

She hadn't even realized she'd been pacing until she stopped. She rested the back of her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes and taking a breath.
She said it'd be fine, what more do you need?
The neediness and insecurity that had been creeping up on her was catching up, and if she didn't find something to keep them quiet she didn't know what she'd do with herself.

Her thoughts shifted to the beginning of her previous relationship with Carter. Had he ever made her this damn nervous? The fact that she knew the answer was no before the question had even fully occurred to her felt wrong. Had she really loved him? She thought she had, so surely that means she did but-

"A tangerine a day keeps my dad away?"

A voice belonging to a man she was certain she loved despite him never having made her nervous in the slightest cut into her thoughts. Her eyes shot open and a smile erupted on her face. She giggled as her gaze landed on the tangerine, confusion marking itself in the way her brows drew together.
"Thanks, Kenz, but why do we wanna keep your dad away?"
She grabbed the tangerine from his extended hand before laughing once more.
"And where'd you get the tangerines?"


Kenzie's presence - and citrusy gift - calmed her nerves almost entirely. It was as though he'd said everything she needed to hear even though he didn't have a clue what was going on in her head; didn't have a clue how he'd just saved her from drowning. At least she knew she'd always be able to rely on him and their friendship.






coded by xayah.ღ
 
CONTENT WARNING FOR VIOLENCE
OCTAVIAN DE LA VEGA
Fading light and wine on the
curtains,
sickly
fumes stain the
mouths
of the glasses. The
dry
mouth and the
bleary
eyes preside over the
misery
of their
battered
body, a hirsute
slippage
of time, a rod of
asceticism
in a treatise on
debauchery.

When it came to Marshall’s taste in late-night adventures, Octavian usually took it with a grain of salt. A joke, strangely-themed as it was, at least brought some ease to the tension spun in his jaw.

“Don’t know,” he’d shrug and turn towards Cam, “maybe I’ve become vegetarian over winter break.” Did rabies operate like a zombie bite? Ave didn’t know, and didn’t have long to ponder when a familiar voice rang out. The drawl of mate; unmistakable in their identity, sense of urgency; unmistakable in their fast approaching steps.

I got you.

“Got me what?” Ave turned, confused. A gift? Having not prepared one in return, he’d feel bad to accept anything. “You d–”

Marshall was body slammed into the cement.

“Jesus fucking christ Noel!” Albeit moving and conscious, pavement was an unforgiving surface to be tackled onto. As experienced prior, thanks to the rabies kid.

Nettled with vicious rage, the champagne blonde was viced with assumptions that ascended a need for intelligence or seemingly, self-preservation. Rough-hewn, reckless, lapsing into action that appeared to arrive so naturally to their scraggly form. There were merits to Noel, found in being able to share the intimacy of honesty with someone who understood. The loyalty, the bone-deep truths and being truly known, something to be strictly barred from Marshall’s knowledge.

Yet the implications of being called Boss undesired, Avian’s own worry rose and settled at the risk of mosaic discretion deciphered into clarity. Catching the frown twisting Marsh’s features, a gut-wrenching expression was met with his own horrified look; Avian could only hope it translated his apologetic thoughts:

I promise I didn’t ask him to do that. Perked to attention like a bloodhound on a hunt, Noel asked for direction. This is just how he is.

“Noel, buddy.” Ave moved forward with intentions to help the pair to their feet. “This is Marsh. Marsh, this is–”

Another voice, another hand— more like claws, had snatched Noel by the scalp. Snapping the blonde back to look at the newcomer, Avian followed the alarming attention to a brunette lady looming over them.

A voice like the roll of a distant storm, a humid warning.

Oh.

Oh she’s cool.

In the light of the morning and under the silence of their expectant stare, the true corollary of damage to Noel couldn’t be easily overlooked. If Octavian could do something to prevent further mayhem, he’d try. Not that anyone here appeared unscathed after being chewed and spat out by concrete. Even the female hosted a collection of her own damage, observation drawn to her lip for a flickering second.

“Miss?” Why did he sound like a Victorian newspaper boy. “Hey– neat sunglasses. But let’s just… gently lower the blonde, yeah? Promise he’s a nice guy, it’s all been a big misunderstanding–”

Marshall, fickle as a tempest; they wouldn’t take an attack so passively. Hostility cleaving up their throat, any and all attempts to soothe Marsh were drowned out in the cataclysmic sound of skull meeting skull.

Peace was never an option.

Close-knit collection of gripped clothing and threats now dispersed in the frenzy that was Marshall’s rage, Ave was doing his best to try and divide the two. Shouted input mattered naught, scrambling to try and grab the feral shells of human beings before they could unleash further violence. Futile, fist from Marsh flying at the blonde— now named Garfield.

“Don’t attack each other! Just fucking chill out!” Stress fuelled hands over the buzz of his scalp, the chaos that played out frame by frenzied frame was enough to age him by fifty years.

It was like trying to herd sheep. But all the sheep were murderous and on crack.

And the most crackhead sheep of all, Ayden, thrashing under the weight of a gallant Cameron. By now Avian had expected him to grow tired and give up fighting, yet just like the hits thrown, there was limitless energy. Still struggling, still throwing demands from the cement.

If it was up to Octavian, he’d have left the rabid little guy there. A forever time-out. Repent.

“Cam, get off the fuckin’ weird kid.” Steps in their direction, crossing pavement to land a hand on the beige hoodie. In all honesty, begrudgingly, he needed help with managing Marsh and Noel before they killed each other. And speaking of which…

“Oye, you two! Stop!” One hand grasping the back of Cameron’s hoodie, the other hand pointed in warning at the other brawl; Ave distractedly torn between two dramas. “Do not make me come back over there!”

At first he’d thought a bell had been pulled, an alarm to drag students away from the scene. Head snapping to its source, a travelling sound, he noticed the item and accented screaming of a blonde. An airhorn. Blared and whipped like a handpiece with a threat to match.

What the fuck.

Ave was speechless, mouth parted and eyes moving to the others in silent question if they were also seeing the same thing. Slowly retracting hand from Cameron’s hoodie, relishing the conclusion. In those blissful moments, the shock garnering a smooth blanket of temporary silence and idle movement, he’d thought— he’d hoped, everything had come to a peaceful end.

Before Ayden’s throat tore peace into slithers of loose thread. Garrotte of their throat undone, spilling sawtooth syllables that led into the cracking blow of another headbutt.

What a headache-worthy group this was.

coded by reveriee.
 
mood :
smug

location :
outside school
outfit :
mentions :
Marshall, Avi, Ayden, Cam, Alex, Noel, Wendy

interactions :
doedeer doedeer (Lola)
Narukami,
Oiwa
Sneering, tapping the camera button on her phone, she almost didn't notice someone bumping into her. And normally she'd shout, but this one looked like a sexy little number. In her own way, Oiwa was barely better than the horny guys she liked to poke fun at, but it weirdly worked when she did it. Internet lesbians found it endearing, at the very least, though she had yet to actually snag a date from her kawaiified bravado and metaphorical dick-swinging.

Instead, she pinned it on the stranger who'd bumped the girl next to her.

"Oi! Fuck off, Pinocchio, watch where you're goin'!" she shouted just over Lola's head as best she could, and the guy she was yelling at made an annoyed sort of face before turning away. "Fucking unbelievable." A few more pictures just for the books. Some ugly kid had showed up, like SERIOUSLY ugly, and he started absolutely wailing on the emo bastard with the hair streaks. Oiwa nearly leapt out of her boots when the ugly kid's less ugly sister blasted an airhorn in their general direction.

"W-what happened? I missed what happened!"

"Oh, I really don't know, honestly. You missed when the barbecue guy fucking plowed Mallory Hawke, seriously hardcore, like, I hope it gave her brain damage." Oiwa snickered, possibly not realizing how demented she probably sounded. "But then I turn around and all these fine little boys are fistfighting like it's goddamn Hell in a Cell, and OH BOY, do I think nobody is gonna win this one." The actual matches for that year's Hell in a Cell hadn't been announced, but if it was anything like the 2017 lineup, it'd be pretty dope. Charlotte Flair got attacked with a steel chair last time, and that was probably what caused Oiwa's little girl crush on Natalya. The fight between Shane McMahon and Kevin Owens had also been pretty baller.

How the fuck can you be thinking about WWE at a time like this? You're watching a real-life cage match!

"Even the ladies are getting involved. Or one lady. One and a half. I don't know. They look fine as hell. Ay!" She smacked a guy on the shoulder who was getting just a little too close. "You're blocking my shot! Asshat! Hijo de puta! Whatever!" She giggled in Lola's direction. "Sorry 'bout that."

Oiwa is, of course, a master of first impressions. At least, to someone out there, probably.
coded by reveriee.
 
< Back
benji banjo

Online Now!

Last Updated:
Jan 18, 2018

Send Message
Instant Message
Subscribe

Mentions:
Artem, Avian, Tori, Sam

Tags:
Artem temporarybliss temporarybliss
Tori neverbackdown neverbackdown
Thu, January 18, 2018
my father's lemon sugar crepe recipe.
CW/TW: Drug use, Remembering of a Automobile Accident, Ghosting

Looking at the glass case of awards gave Ben a slight sense of home. He was worried about disappearing but the photo of the whole team together gave him the flicker of family he was looking for. Ben was lucky Artem was on his better side - his left side where his hearing wasn’t entirely shot, and his rejuvenated smile only brightened to hear he was with another talented athlete. “Everyone’s welcome to practice. The girls team gives us a hard time even if Avian wouldn’t admit it.” He wanted to reassure Artem that Roosevelt had more good people before she was shaken by the plague of drugs and gang turf wars. She didn’t seem the type to be into those things anyways, but Ben didn’t look much like it either. “I’m hoping Ave lets me back in the team since I was MIA for the season. Maybe we can practice one on one some time to get back into it.” He suggested with no alternate objective, realizing it might sound more flirty than it thought… Well, it was already said and even if she wanted it to be more of a date, he wouldn’t mind attaching the soccer practice with a dinner along with it.

Ben was too invested in the new girl to notice his right side. “His bad side” is what his parents called it. The impact of the car crash damaged it to almost non-existence but it still rang loudly. As the theme tended to be, Ben’s collision with another person was almost inevitable with it on his “bad side”. This time, he had caught the girl before a deja vu moment happened. Was it a heart flutter that Ben had? Maybe a bittersweet bird singing in his head when he let go of her shoulders when she was stable. Tori was still the prettiest girl in his eyes, even if Sam made fun of him for it at any given time, but things were changing the last months before the accident and it was worse after. He didn’t want Tori to see him in that state, it was definitely pride that got in the way. His and his parents. The rumors on how the two Crozier siblings got into a car crash on their own were bad enough, he didn’t want to tell his girlfriend he was high on acid after a show at Teller’s. He didn’t want to tell anyone he thought it was his fault why Michelle had to be the one behind the wheel when they were equally messed up. Ben didn’t care about what most people thought about him but he chose to be hated by Tori for being ghosted instead of her being disappointed in him for a hidden hobby he kept from her.

The feeling of guilt was casted over as Ben let Tori introduce herself to Artem. He slipped back just enough for the girls to interact before chiming in again. “Not a problemo, Tor. You’re the perfect person for us to bump into actually.” His laugh was still the same as before, putting his hand over Tori’s shoulder to be his friendly casual self before happily glancing at Artem once more. He may have been too close to Tori to make sure he could hear her this time, he didn’t notice it himself. It was just the habit he made now with his “bad side”. “Tori’s the smartest girl in school. Probably gonna be valedictorian next year, right? If you have questions about electives or teachers, she’s the one to go to.




Currently listening :
Inuit
By Foxing

7:42 AM - 3 Comments - 1 Kudos - Add Comment


coded by xoxoRamona
 
Trigger Warning - Mention of OD











E






filler! ignore









T






filler! ignore














  • Emily Thomas



    The Girl Next Door








♡design by dreamglow, coded by uxie♡
 
mood :
feelin' fighty

location :
outside school
outfit :
mentions :
Wendy, Marshall, Avi, Ayden, Cam, Alex

interactions :
Sugarnaut Sugarnaut weldherwings weldherwings TheVoidQueen TheVoidQueen Gao Gao roxybirdie roxybirdie neverbackdown neverbackdown
Sheary,
Noel
UH OH IT APPEARS I'VE MISCALCULATED THE SITUATION

A friend. A friend! Noel had kind of guessed that Avi probably had a few of those from soccer. Funny how a man can be a member of a gang and still be so... socially apt. Why the fuck was his "friend" looking at him like he wanted him dead? Some fucking friend you've got right there. But Noel didn't really even have a moment to think about it because suddenly he was having his hair pulled on, oh how very fatherly of you ma'am. Craig Sheary would be proud of the way you treat his son.

Instead of quipping he just let off a whine like an old computer trying to run Windows 10. Oh cool that's literally the most embarrassing noise you could have made. What's next? You gonna cry? You gonna MOAN? You gonna, I don't know, sing a song about it?

"Wait I think I've--

But peace was no longer an option as suddenly he felt blood gushing forth from his funny little schnoz because the little tart had headbutted him, and well, thick skulls make hard impacts. Unfortunately he didn't get his bearings fast enough to avoid their positions reversing, and he tanked another hard punch to the face. What's a few more missing teeth?

"I'VE MISUNDERSTOOD--"

HWAAAAAAANK!

Everything went still. Noel could have wept at his sister's completely unnecessary bravery -- he could've handled this! Really! But it was always nice to remember that, study-gram influencer or not, she was still his sister, and siblings do things for each other. Sometimes those things include blasting an airhorn at someone. Or threatening to shoot her. Which normally Noel would discourage since people in the states take that EXTREMELY seriously, but he couldn't be fucked to care, honestly.

He barely even mumbled a thank god before the little skateboard twat was off beating down ol' Cammy Chambers -- serves him right, probably. He took that chance to wriggle away from the threatening murder-poof before he could cause any more damage.

"I thought," Noel wheezed, "you were tryn'a hurt a friend of mine." He spoke like he was calming an enraged animal, like he was the Jurassic World guy taming a very pissed-off velociraptor. Though Noel isn't as attractive as Chris Pratt. Nowhere near it. "I, um, I didn't- you're gonna fucking hit me again aren't you? You're just gonna do it." Now his head was throbbing like someone was shaking a bag of marbles inside of his skull. I didn't even get a chance to hit you. I just knocked you over. How the fuck is this fair.

But Avi didn't want him to cause a ruckus. And, well, Noel was more or less his attack dog on a short leash. Not like a German shepard though, one of the stupid ones. Like a mastiff.

He tried to shoot Wendy a 'thank-you' glance, but it probably didn't look very good, since there was blood running down his face. Shit. I think my nose is broken. AGAIN.
coded by reveriee.
 
Last edited:












eino & ava

♫/private angels - snow strippers/♫



mood

ava: happy, on a mf mission babyyy
eino: intrigued, eager, enthusiastic


location

otw to capitol hill/downtown


oufit

d7e10715256866012ba9b69a14f0a755.jpg
3a9d525ba50b47eaf41575281e58bac6.jpg


tag

laury/liv Sugarnaut Sugarnaut / emily neverbackdown neverbackdown giselle L3n L3n




eino followed his host sister diligently, flashing a grin at the two girls sitting in the front seats of the white suv. “ava.. elle..” he gleamed, “It’s wonderful to meet you both.” the twinkle in his eyes shifted between both girls, “you’re both just as beautiful as i thought you might be.” he remarked, using his charm on the two like it was his second nature. admittedly it was half-rehearsed, but the boy couldn’t help but compliment them as forthright as he did. second day in america and surely i’m with the prettiest girls in school.. ahhhhhh~

to this comment ava had to laugh. she was pleasantly taken aback, but more just genuinely amused that this european boy could be so forward. maybe he was sort of hitting on them, but his presence was that of boyish charm and no way virile in the slightest. no.. eino was a lanky, twig of a blonde kid with a thick danish accent and a case of acute enthusiasm practically radiating off his skin. god, he’s going to have an interesting time at our school..

this boy might not exactly be the winsome prince ava and giselle had been alluding to, but surely he’d be fun to have around. hopefully roosevelt wouldn’t tear him a new one on his first day..

ava shot a wink at elle and another giggle escaped from her lips, “eino you’re a dog aren’tcha…” she replied sublimely, backing away from the curb and back on the street, “you better be careful who you’re charming at roosevelt–not everyone’s as cool as us.”

“dog? i’m not a dog…” eino protested with a shrug, “--trust me i know.. american twitter is uh–not so kind..” he sulked in his seat with his eyebrows furrowed.

ava turned around to offer a reassuring smile at the boy. “pffft don’t listen to those losers, i was just joking. you’ll have a great time i’m sure!”

eino perked up at ava’s words, regaining his earnest composure as quickly as it had left, “exactly! american school is going to be great…”

“are we excited for school?”


“i’m excited for school!” he interjected at emily’s question and ava nodded as she stuck her arm out of the window–feeling the wind as they drove, “i don’t know about school itself, but seeing you guys everyday? hell yeah.” the brunette turned up the music, bobbing her head in a swaying motion to the beat. she let the three chat amongst themselves for a bit as they approached a redlight–her attention was on her twitter feed blowing up with some talk about her ex-lover laury being put on blast by a girl she didn’t recognize. at first glance she was pretty confused, but after reading more into it she realized this olivia person was obviously not from around here and clearly needed some help. being in capitol hill at any time these days was a danger zone–especially the block she seemed to be trudging through. there was no way any decent person would pick her up, much less aid her at all.

“so giselle.. is that your natural hair? i’ve never seen anyone who looks like–”

“woah woah woah–wait.. guys–we’re taking a detour..”
ava announced, making a quick left turn and almost cutting off a car behind her. “oops! ok ok we mayyy be a liiiittle late for school, but i promise it’s worth it.”






















/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.

 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top