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Realistic or Modern hollywood arts: main (open!!)

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Ashton West


She was angry. She was pissed. She was confused. She was... she was... she was...

Hurt.

“Fuck you.” He said.

Her breath--

No, actually, her breath didn't catch in her throat. There was no shock, there was no surprise coming from her after he uttered those words. There was just a... a feeling of acceptance. No surprise, this was nothing new. It was just... Halloween all over again, all over the same issues.

He rambled from point to point, his words making like almost no sense to her as she listened to him speak.

Trevor made some good points -- but probably not for the point that he wanted to make. Through the slight glisten in her eyes, all Ash could think about was... was... what, red flags everywhere or something? The fact that half the shit he was saying was so fucked up, so fucked up, so fucked up and-- and--

He was placing words in her mouth again. Saying that she thought this or that, when she hadn't said anything of the sort, when she'd never thought anything of the sort. It was the same thing, over and over again -- Trevor thinking that she thought he was some kind of shitty person, Trevor angry about guys, and she just--

"Are you fucking serious?" Ash snapped, her lip drawn back into a look of disgust as she stepped forward, jabbing a finger into his chest because fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. "Just admit that you don't fucking trust me because you think I'm too fucking good for you."

She dropped her hand away from him, letting out a small laugh of disbelief. She couldn't fucking handle this. For the first time, she actually felt... defeated. Not that, just that... she felt done. She couldn't handle this continuous, this just... this continuous, just him, just him, just him.

Ash was done with him.

"So you just wanted me to just... just fucking wait for you? Just sit all by myself until you decided to fucking show up with your date, right?" There was still disbelieving laughter bubbling out of her chest, a disbelieving smile painted across her face that this all of... all of this was happening yet again. "I am so sorry that I didn't wait for my mess of a fucking boyfriend to show up tonight and had fun with guys who actually want to be seen with me instead."

“So I’m feckin’ drunk,” he said, his face unamused. He looked back at the ground. “Yeah, I’m fucking drunk, and yeah, I’m fucking high,” (at this, Ash let out a fake surprised gasp followed by a soft "nooo" as she brought a hand dramatically across her mouth) “just so I could forget about all of the shite that bothers me, just so I could feckin’ ask you to go public with me, not because I really want to, but because that’s what you feckin’ want to do, and I feckin’ care about you, so I feckin’ act like I don’t feckin’ feel anything. And that’s totally feckin’ normal, because I’m a fuckin’ van-drivin’ bottom-feeder and you’re hot and emotionally feckin’ damaged or some shite. I give a shit, Ash — and I fucking act like I don’t so you can be fucking happy with me, so you can be feckin’ happy with this feckin’ guy I’m pretending to be. So fuck you.”

She was speechless for a moment -- not because she didn't know what to say, not because she was necessarily hurt, just because she was... she was... there was too much that she wanted to say.

But then, some kind of saving grace came by, and her gaze broke from Trevor's as Cappie moved between the two of them. She blinked for a moment, and a hand reached out to lightly brush across his arm. Kind of as a little thank you so much for blocking him before I went to jail for murder.

“You need to walk away right now, S.T.,” Cappie said. “Walk away. Sit somewhere else and sober up before you make yourself more of a schmuck. Ash, let’s get back to the ball.”

"Oh, no, I can't go anywhere with you, Cap," Ash spat, glaring at Trevor from around Cappie's shoulder. "My amazing boyfriend who cares oh so much about me will just think you want to fuck me on the dancefloor. But he can go on fucking dates with girls he's actually fucked and I'm supposed to just smile and be perfectly okay with it, but I can't even like... you're seriously jealous over Newt?"

She didn't mention Lucky because well... the worry there at least had some kind of backing.

But Newt? Really?

"Maybe I should just, like, go actually kiss Newt or fuck Lucky since apparently you think I'm some kind of cheating whore and don't believe that I just want you, you fucking jackass."




mood
.....

location
the Ball

outfit
purple





playing...
Boys Ain't Shit
by saygrace​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Cappie, Trevor

tags
0k_mang0 0k_mang0 ohdittoh ohdittoh


º º code by ditto º º
 






trevor callaghan​


Some fucking dickhead decided it was a feckin’ great place for him to intervene, because this was totally his feckin’ business and he totally feckin’ understood enough to want to “call Trevor off”. Great, so Trevor was more fodder for this fucking stuntman’s hero complex — yay, Trevor got to be fucking used even more, lucky feckin’ him.

Seriously, why the fuck was Cap here? Holding a hand out, having an arm over Ash like he was some fucking great protector.

“You need to walk away right now, S. T.,” he said. So he was calling him by his feckin’ pen name — was that supposed to be intimidating? “Walk away. Sit somewhere else and sober up before you make yourself more of a schmuck. Ash, let’s get back to the ball.”

Before Trevor could interject, Ash decided it was her turn to give her own take on shite. “Oh, no, I can’t go anywhere with you, Cap.” Trevor locked eyes with her; she was glaring. “My amazing boyfriend who cares oh so much about me will just think you want to fuck me on the dancefloor."

“Fuck you,” Trevor hissed.

“But he can go on fucking dates with girls he’s actually fucked and I’m supposed to just smile and be perfectly okay with it —“

“Fuck you, fuck you —“

“— but I can’t even like…you’re seriously jealous over Newt?”

“The fuck who people said you were fucking dating?” Trevor slurred.

“Maybe I should just, like, go actually kiss Newt or fuck Lucky since apparently you think I’m some kind of cheating whore and don’t believe that I just want you, you fucking jackass,” Ash spat.

“You just want me?” Trevor repeated. He laughed, then sloppily flopped his wrist. “Bullshit — feckin’ bullshit, Ash.” His gaze was lasered in on Ash, his words loud and burning as he spoke. “Had I not fucking shown up, you and feckin’ Babyface McGee would be feckin’ — fuckin’, feckin’ mackin’ it out on tha goddamn dance floor or some shite, don’t act like it isn’t feckin’ true! Ya almost did it in front of a whole goddamn feckin’ audience at Arts Fest, so what would feckin’ stop ya on tha intimate feckin’ dance floor, face to face with tha guy who ya always feckin’ compare your feckin’ boyfriend to anyway — you already almost fucked him at Arts Fest when ya thought no one was feckin’ watching, so fucking why not?”

His furious eyes turned to Cap, who he’d honestly forgotten was there with him for a couple of seconds. His brows knit, his face screwing up “Who the fuck do ya think ya are, comin’ in all…high an’ feckin’ mighty, actin’ like it’s your feckin’ duty ta come save tha — tha feckin’ day, you sonuva…” He swayed a step, then took a step closer to Cap, his chest bouncing against his hand. “Why the fuck are you here?” he asked, looking blindly into Cap’s eyes. “Can’t you feckin’ see? This is between me and my fuckin’ girlfriend — get the hell away. You don’t know shit about this, you beefed up gobshite.”

(For those of you uninitiated: Trevor had few survival skills when sober; they all disappeared when he had alcohol in him. For now, he was not thinking a single thought that wasn’t fury. This moment was the end-all-be-all of everything. Somehow, it was an affront to everything he stood for, and he wasn’t going to stand for that.)




mood
pissed

location
some-fucking-where

outfit
blue suit (+ currently a yellow tie)





playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall
by glaive​




mentions
lucky & newt

interactions
ash & cappie

tags
Winona Winona 0k_mang0 0k_mang0


º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: being a king

OUTFIT: suit

LOCATION: ball
basics
MENTIONS:
Kian, Javi

INT:
ohdittoh ohdittoh (Kelli)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Angel Cervantes
Angel mangled the cheesecake a little as he struggled to cut a perfect slice, his deft artist hands working at cleaning up the small mess he made on the platter. With an inward grunt, he served himself a small slice, enough for roughly four or five small bites. Satisfied with his work, he took a contented bite, his cheeks puffing up like a smiling hamster. He resisted the urge to loudly go "Mmmm!" .

He was a real happy guy when he wasn't an anxious wreck, you know? A true happy-go-lucky type, minding his own business, doing his little art, wishing no ill-will upon anyone but the wicked and the evil. So, small dogs, elves, and bad movie reboot apologists.

He turned around and leaned against the table, smiling with a semi-full mouth at Kelli. "It's really good," he admitted, watching the girl apprehensively approach the table. He quirked a brow, curious, but kept his eyes down so as to not be caught staring. Because he wasn't like that. And there were eyes everywhere.

“Yay!” Kelli cheered, reaching for the cookies. It was adorable. “Condom —“ Her smile froze on her face, and she panically corrected herself in a too-loud voice: “OHSHOOTCOOKIESIMEANTCOOKIES.”

Angel's jaw dropped on instinct. She... huh... what... why was she thinking of the S-E-X word!? "Oh... haha..." He laughed nervously in an attempt to not embarrass Kelli, although he couldn't deny the peculiarity of well, that. It wasn't a very funny joke, but he knew enough of the pain of a joke not landing to avoid dwelling on it.

"Right," he agreed after Kelli took a pass at playing it off, scratching at the back of his head as the energy between them stagnated. In the quiet, his mind began to wander away, the girl tethering his attention slowly shrinking away from him. Then, she exclaimed, "C-cookies. Yay!" The sudden cry brought him back to Earth, and he watched unhelpfully as she struggled through eating a cookie.

Dammit! He was making her awkward. What had he done now!?

Panic-stricken, the boy grabbed a cookie and ate it in solidarity, forcing a weak smile. "Yum! So good!"

It's bone-dry!

Angel followed Kelli's gaze downward, brows furrowed. Was she stomping on a condom? Uh, weird hobby.

"You think someone's..." He did a little motion. "...at the dance?" He clenched his teeth in a disgusted awe, but all surprise dropped from his face as Kelli picked up the shiny package. Angel knew that joyous crinkle anywhere; in an instant, he clocked it as the special pocket thingy. Seeing it in the light, it was even more alluring as a forbidden fidget toy.

He became drenched in shame, a cold sweat running down his body from head to toe. Feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him, he opened his mouth and let out a little croak, stunned. No! It's not what it looks like! His mind retracted backwards until it seemed as though he was peering through binoculars, each eye's vision locked behind a glass window that was slowly moving away.

Back he went, his vision dimming rapidly while the sounds outside became distorted and muffled. If he couldn't muster a reaction, he was as good as a lifeless statue.

Then his vision started turning into an absurd kaleidoscope and Angel decided that was enough, so he grounded himself once more. Rather conveniently, that was when Kelli started fumbling out excuses, and he remained tight-lipped before getting a word in. "Uh, hm... can I?" he asked, reaching for the condom.

He spent a short moment reading the note, flipping the shiny square over and fiddling with it in his fingers. A look of understanding replaced some of his tension, and he nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Brothers."

He had to notice Kelli's politeness, and her attempts at defusing the awkwardness of this painful slip. It was kind of her. Kinder than Angel was used to. He owed it to her to at least try getting some of his shit together.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't know that was what he put in my pocket," he explained, still coming off more withdrawn and thoughtful than he'd have liked. He rolled his tongue in his cheek, stifling a laugh of utter disbelief. He nodded slowly, offering nothing but a frivolous shrug. "You know the feeling? The helpless little sibling kind?"

She seemed to, or at least she was decent at pretending she knew. Angel was a tad jealous of her ability to take such careful consideration for others. Angel's first response was usually just to tense up and hide. "Never a dull moment when you're constantly compared to someone so... like Javi."

He set his cake down, still absentmindedly crinkling the condom in his hand. Probably not the best idea next to a girl in the middle of a nosy crowd. "Back before he came here, I used to be able to hide away and be perceived by, like, no one. And now, somehow, whatever he's doing has landed me all in the middle of everything and it's a really strange feeling and it's a lot to handle at once and..."

He took a breath, frazzled but smiling so as to reassure Kelli that he wasn't about to have a psychotic break. "But, well, we wouldn't have gotten to talk if it wasn't for our brothers' performance, right? So it hasn't been for nothing."

Angel's grin started to melt into something more genuine, Kelli's kindly gaze and blushing cheeks putting him somewhat at ease. "They mean well, I think." Maybe less with Javi, but it was still something. Tonight wasn't a night to rag on his older brother, so it was best to keep things... simple. "Kian messaged me, which was frightening because I thought he'd get the wrong idea about us, but he actually said something pretty insightful."

The artist raised a finger in the air, slowly building up to his next words. "But I don't remember what it was. It was pretty cool of him, though. You guys have that in common, if you don't mind my comparing." Now things were getting awkward again, at least in Angel's head. However, against his better judgement, he continued. "You do a decent job putting up with crap. Especially my crap. Thanks for letting me take a load off."

He smiled warmly, blissfully unaware of the smelly image he just conjured.
code by valen t.
 






MICHAEL K. REID​


As Mike exited the bathroom, he kept his eyes down and minded his own damn business. Quick. Quiet.

Just get out of there and forget whatever the shit that was ever happened. That was the fucking goal. Ya know, you could say whatever you wanted about his talents or whatever, but theree was one thing that you couldn’t debate: jizzing and jetting was a strength of his. Seriously, you could ask any number of his hookups. (Insert an MLA citation of Briar right here. No seriously, that was some backhanded shit like that whatever cruel force was controlling the course of his life would do, honestly. That was right in fucking character, so they could just go right on ahead, get it over with.)

God, what the hell was he doing? Leave it to him to try and use shitty humor in an as abysmal of a situation as fucking this, right? Hey, but at least Mike wasn’t as miserably fucking pissed right now. Fucking tended to help that a little…a little.

Now, he just had his regrets to mull over. Fucking yay for him, right?

“Fuck,” he mumbled, lifting his eyes just enough to scan the faces of the people lining the hallways. The fucking paps were gone now — huzzah. At least that.

God, he must have sobered up or some shit. He was thinking too fucking much. I need that flask right about now.

And, for once, whatever merciless force above was watching over him decided to give him a moment of rest, and he spotted a couple of kids by the punch bowl just inside the dance entrance, pouring a little bit of somethin’ somethin’ into their cups. Bingo.

With a satisfied grin on his face, Mike sent a quick little big ups, Big Man up and headed toward them. “‘ey,” he greeted, giving them a little bounce of the eyebrows, “mind if I join you?”

……………………​

He stole the flask.

Hashtag YOLO, right? Some shit like that.

Anyway.

At some point while he was sipping spiked punch, he got ahold of the flask and slipped it into his jacket, and he just kind of walked away after that, went out to the parking lot to drink alone in his car and, well, wait for Little Red.

What? Did you think he was just going to abandon her? She was a kid, and as shitty as he was, Mike had enough experience babysitting to know completely ditching a kid who came a place with you was a good way to get threatened with a loaded handgun, so he’d never fucking do that. He had enough self-preservation not to.

Also, he’d feel bad. She was his date, after all, and, well…yeah.

Fuck him for having a conscience, right?

Mike’s clunker was parked a few rows back from the entrance, which honestly looked a lot sketchier in the sterile light of the moth-swarmed lamp post just outside of the entryway. The light gleamed off of a puddle that rested in a dip in the parking lot just in front of his car.

It was kind of peaceful out here, honestly. He could hear some muffled music coming from a car a few rows away, saw a few beams of light from the headlights of occupied vehicles that he didn’t want to look at too long since voyeurism wasn’t exactly his cup of tea. Figures — some laughing, hanging off of each other and some dead silent — exited in spurts from the entryway, and when they did, he would catch a bit of the too-loud music coming from the brightly lit inside.

The wind ruffled a few leaves across the ground. Cars pulled out on occasion. Still, it felt almost…still. Silent.

Calm. Looking out over the parking lot from his place seated on the hood of his car, with his legs dangling toward the pavement, for the first time in awhile, Mike felt calm. Maybe it was the liquor, or maybe it was the overwhelmingness of everything that was too much to be anything at all.

Whatever it was, he didn’t want to dwell too long on it. Who knew, if he thought about it too long, it might just fucking disappear. Nothing good ever lasted.

As he tilted the stolen flask up to his lips, he closed his eyes. He swallowed the burning liquid with a sigh.

He’d done some shitty stuff tonight, but hey, at the end of the day…

“I’m still fucking alive,” he muttered.

He opened his eyes, looking back toward the entrance.

He guessed now that he would just…wait.




mood
...

location
the parking lot

outfit
i'm fucking sexy.





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​




mentions
landon & beth

interactions
n/a

tags
n/a


º º code by ditto º º
 
Elias Johannes
@elithegreat has set their status to:
you crossed a line, McLovin

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
blue velvet

@elithegreat has set their location to:
hell, probably

@elithegreat has mentioned:
Chanel

@elithegreat has interacted with:
Cami, Ash, Cappie, Trevor

@elithegreat has tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn Winona Winona 0k_mang0 0k_mang0 ohdittoh ohdittoh

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no. This was not how this was supposed to go. Eli was supposed to just pick up Cami and Chanel with Cappie, go to the dance, and have an amazing night. He was supposed to be smooth (yes, he had been practicing his lines in a mirror, don’t judge), he was supposed to swipe Cami right off of her feet with disarming charm and a brilliant smile.

Instead, Elias was panicking. Like full on heavy breathing, light headed, finger shaking panicking. Honestly, it was kind of pathetic.

Look, everything had been going perfectly according to plan until… well, it wasn’t. He had picked up Cami and Chanel with Cappie, he had survived the car ride there, which honestly was a monumental win in and of itself considering he had thoroughly convinced himself that Chanel was going to choke him out with his seatbelt while they were cruising down the highway. He had even given Cami her corsage, the very set of flowers that he had spent far too much time agonizing over in a flower shop on the edge of town while some old Russian lady told him that he was trying too hard.

Okay, maybe he was trying too hard. But that was what Elias did: he went above and beyond for absolutely no reason 100% of the time. Sometimes, that totally backfired. Other times, such as with the circumstances surrounding the ball, it actually worked.

Luck never lasts forever, Eli had come to understand, he just didn’t realize how quickly it would run out this time.

Eli and Cami had entered the ball arm in arm, a wide grin on Eli’s cheeks as he glanced up at the chandeliers and over the crowd of silk and tulle. The Winter Ball never failed to impress him with their extravagences, even if they were a bit over his head sometimes.

Having been far too nervous to strike up much conversation, Eli led his far-out-of-his-league date to the dancefloor. They were both dancers, surely dancing would be a fun and inventive way not to have to get through the awkward beginning stages of talking. Twirling around in ridiculously expensive clothes and making cute little comments totally couldn’t backfire.

Wrong.

So horribly wrong, because a slow song came on and Eli nearly lost his cool.

Don’t panic, Elias, you’re a dancer, you’ve slow danced with dozens of girls before, totally no big deal. Oh wait shit, you need to ask her to dance, why didn’t you ask her to dance, oh my gosh you’re so fucking creepy Elias, what is wrong with you? Cami’s totally gonna hate you after this and don’t even get me started on Chanel, its like you WANT her to murder you-

Okay, so maybe he did entirely lose his cool. Can you even blame him? There he was with this gorgeous girl with a family that wanted his head on a spike and the rest of his corpse burned to the ground making a total fucking fool of himself. Gen had made it clear that the Johanneses were a force: flirtatious, confident, suave. Honestly, the very antithesis of Elias.

He had to try.

Breathe, Elias, you got this.

Eli pulled the smile back onto his face and forced the deer in the headlights expression from his eyes and he gracefully extended a hand. “Would you do me the honour of letting me have this dance?”

He had not anticipated what to do if, and eventually when, Cami said yes to his offer. At her acceptance, Eli simply smiled as his brain went into overdrive.

How far down were his hands supposed to go? Was this a waltz or more of a contemporary style sway? What on earth was he supposed to say? Did he remember deodorant? Oh my gosh, what if he didn’t wear deodorant? Elias ‘Stinky’ Johannes would become his new name, forever known by the Clairmonts as the disgusting nitwit that couldn’t even remember basic hygiene in a time of crisis.

Fuck.

He was staring.

Elias gently took Cami’s hand, placing a soft kiss on the smooth back of her knuckles before twirling her around and pulling her in. He really needed to stop thinking, needed to shut his stupid overactive brain up somehow. So, Eli focused on the movement. He focused on where to place his feet, the sway of their bodies to the soft beat, the feeling of the dress fabric against his palm. Eventually his thoughts faded away and his muscles began to relax. Dancing with Cami like this, out of school and just for the fun of it… Well, it was the nicest he had felt in a long time.

Slowly, Eli looked down at Cami and smiled, his cheeks flushing pink as he held her eye contact fully for what felt like the first time since they’d arrived.

“I don’t think there’s a person in this room more beautiful than you tonight.” Eli spoke softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of music and shuffling feet.

Suddenly, he blinked as his fingers ran cold.

No.

Oh no.

Eli’s mouth had spoken without permission from his brain, his innermost thoughts slipping out undetected by any ounce of his critical thought. He had come on way too strong. This was bad, horrible even.

“I, um…” Eli’s voice trailed off as his hands slowly removed themselves from Cami in an attempt to not make things any more awkward than they were already.

The music shifted from a slow song to an upbeat song.

“Drinks!” Eli chimed rather sharply. He cleared his throat, resisting the urge to undo his tie. “Drinks, I’m, uh, I’ll go get us drinks. Berightback.”

Cue the panicking, the gross mild hyperventilating, the shaking fingers, yada yada you know the drill.

Had he blown that? He certainly felt like he had absolutely blown that.

Eli made his way over to the drink table, grabbing a glass and downing its contents before taking a heavy breath and sighing it out, ribs loosening at the sudden expulsion of air. He just needed to breathe, get out of his own head.

All Eli had done was compliment her. Yes, it had been out of the blue, but maybe he was just overreacting again. Maybe Cami appreciated the compliment no matter how sudden and rather vulnerable it was. Maybe she was about to tell him that she didn’t think of him that way, or maybe he was about to get told to ‘go to hell pervert’ (he wasn’t too sure about that last one, though he’d seen Gen say it enough to creepy drunk men that didn’t know their boundaries). Regardless of how Cami felt in response to his blatant outburst, it was going to be okay.

On the outskirts of the crowd, just barely out of view, Ash caught Eli’s eye. There was something about the look she was sending him that set Elias slightly on edge. Slowly, Eli raised a hand and gave her a quick thumbs up, though it was more of a nonverbal question of ‘are you okay?’ rather than a statement.

Ash would be okay, at least for now. He had to go make things right with Cami.

Eli had to apologize, that much he knew for sure. Armed with two glasses, Eli carefully wove his way back through the crowd, focusing on the feeling of his feet in his shoes instead of the rapid anxious thumping in his chest. He was only mildly surprised to find Cami where he had left her instead of her having run off into the night away from him.

It was going to be fine. It was always fine.

“For you, Madame.” Eli said with a soft smile, handing the glass to Cami. After gently clicking the rims together in a cheers, Eli took a sip before continuing to speak. “Hey, so um about that… comment I just made. I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that totally wasn’t my intention. To be honest, I don’t even know if I had an intention to begin with, ya know? I just sorta, I dunno, blurted out what I was thinking and-”

Over Cami’s shoulder, a few heads began to turn towards the exterior of the building, a few people huddling close together in hushed whispers.

Suspicious.

Then, Elias’s phone buzzed. At first, he didn’t want to check the message. It would have been horribly rude of him to attempt to apologize only to turn around and ignore Cami. But something, be it a gut feeling or sibling-bestie intuition, told him to check his phone.

From: Sis II
SOS OUTSIDE​

Oh no.

Ash needed to say no more, for Eli’s phone was already shoved back into his pocket. Guilt rang through his stomach as he placed his hand on Cami’s shoulder, eyes scanning the crowd for the fastest way out. “Camille, I am so sorry. Would you excuse me for a moment? I think Ash is in trouble.”

Eli didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he was pushing through the crowd at a near run as his heart thrummed with worry. Luckily, he didn’t have far to go until he found Ash. Their voices reached him before they came into sight, a protective demeanour washing over Eli before he could even consciously react.

"Maybe I should just, like, go actually kiss Newt or fuck Lucky since apparently you think I'm some kind of cheating whore and don't believe that I just want you, you fucking jackass."

That didn’t sound good.

“Who the fuck do ya think ya are, comin’ in all…high an’ feckin’ mighty, actin’ like it’s your feckin’ duty ta come save tha — tha feckin’ day, you sonuva… Why the fuck are you here?” Oh lovely. Irish McLovin, just who he wanted to deal with tonight. “Can’t you feckin’ see? This is between me and my fuckin’ girlfriend — get the hell away. You don’t know shit about this, you beefed up gobshite.”

Eli pushed someone back gently, murmuring an apology as he broke through the edge of the now dissolving crowd towards the group. There was Ash, face sunken and jaw clenched with anger. There was Trevor, smelling of a distillery and waving side to side entirely unsteady on his feet. And then, perhaps most concerningly, was Cappie, red in the face and ready to knock little Callaghan’s pearly whites directly out of his skull.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Eli called out, pushing his body between Cap and Trevor to act as a physical barrier. Cap would never swing if it meant Eli was going to get hurt and… well, let’s be honest, despite the fact that Eli was not much of a fighter, he was a solid 90% sure he could take a punch from the little drunk Irishman and still be standing. “What’s going on here? Ash, are you okay? Why are you drunk and yelling, Trevor? And Cap, what are you even doing here?”

Eli sighed. Fuck it, he really didn’t need to know. All he needed to do was diffuse the situation and get Ash out of there.

His entire body went into autopilot. For a raging pacifist with the fighting skills of a blind toddler, Eli had broken up more than a few fights in his day. It sort of came with the territory of being the twin brother and lifelong companion to his crazy chick of a sister. Spotting a chair out of the corner of his eye, Eli gently pushes Cap back towards Ash.

“Take her and go outside. I’ll meet you out there.” Eli spoke calmly but sternly, an unfamiliar authoritative edge in his voice. “Now. I’ve got this.”

There wasn’t much left to do to diffuse the tension of the situation. With Cap and Ash gone, Eli then turned his attention to Trevor. Two hands met his chest, shoving him backwards enough to cause Eli to stumble. Breathing in and out a few times to retain his calmness, Eli shrugged his shoulders slightly to straighten out his suit before acting.

Eli then took Trevor by the shoulders, turning him around carefully so as to not knock his drunken being over and walked him over to the chair. Pushing down on him slightly, Eli helped him into the chair and sighed heavily as he walked over to the nearby water fountain and filled up one of the empty crystal glasses with water, handing it back to Trevor with a rather harsh push.

“What the hell were you even thinking?” Eli spat, though his demeanour and tone was more disappointed than angry. “How dare you make her cry like that? Showing up to the one night that she was looking forward to spending time with you wasted.” Eli breathed in slightly before letting out a half-hearted laugh. “Sorry, you’re crossfaded. Even better.” Eli reached up to rub his temples, shaking his head slightly as he undid the tie from around his neck. “Sit here and sober the fuck up. If you’re leaving, I’ll call you a cab.” Eli glared down at Trevor, his body relaxed but his tone strained and angry. “But stay the hell away from Ash. You’ve done enough to break her heart tonight.”

Without another word, Eli gave one last demeaning look down at the drunkard before pushing his way out the doors and rushing down the steps. Cami was far from his mind as his chest squeezed and his lungs ached as he looked around for Ash and Cappie. When he finally found the pair, Ash sitting on the steps with Cap next to her, Eli rushed over and sat down right next to her. Pulling off his suit jacket, Eli draped it over Ash’s exposed shoulders before pulling her into his side, a comforting hand rubbing soft circles on her arm.

“Ash, what happened back there?” Eli asked, any ounce of toughness or bravado from his voice gone as if it had never even been there to begin with. Instead, all he felt was concern. “Are you okay?”

º º code by ditto º º
 

MOOD: he protecc—attacc

OUTFIT:
navy blue boy
​
INFO

LOCATION:
somewhere outside the winter ball

WITH: trevor, ash, eli

MENTION: newt, chanel​
ACTIVITY
Winona Winona geminiy geminiy ohdittoh ohdittoh
TAGS
cappie
— Rescue


"Oh, no, I can't go anywhere with you, Cap. My amazing boyfriend who cares oh so much about me will just think you want to fuck me on the dancefloor.”

“Well, that’s unsanitary,” he mutters under his breath during Ash’s retort. Though he finds Ash’s comeback against Trevor a bit funny, Cappie also feels like scolding her for it, because 1.) it isn’t helping the situation any more than Cappie’s presence, and 2.) doing the “devil’s tango” on the dance floor is not the kind of dance he ever wants to do with Ash—he loves Ash, but gross, she’s like a sister to him.

Cappie isn’t the slightest surprised that this is about Trevor’s jealousy. However, he shares Ash’s sentiment and makes a puzzled face that shows it—seriously, being jealous over Newt? Talk about irrational. Everyone knows Ash and Newt are just friends, right? As one of Ash’s closest friends, Cappie is 100% certain that her feelings towards the colorful-hair-colored guy are 100% platonic, and he also suspects Newt likes someone else who isn’t blonde.

How does Cappie always encounter guys with an inferiority complex? This is such a weird theme for him. Ash has told him that weed helps Trevor chill out or something, but he is so far from chill right now.

“Can’t you feckin’ see? This is between me and my fuckin’ girlfriend — get the hell away. You don’t know shit about this, you beefed up gobshite.” Trevor bumps against his hand once, his booze-polluted breath nearly burning through Cappie’s eyesockets.

Personal space violated, his brain alerts him like a bright programmed pop-up window. All of his regards to deescalating this confrontation as rationally as possible vaporizes. Cappie shoves back Trevor’s chest a quick, semi-light shove; instantly a second later, sharply grabs Trevor by one of the lapels of his jacket—not because Cappie wants to keep him on upright for the sake of his well-being—and pulls away from Ash, using his other hand to reproachfully point at Trevor’s face.

“I will smack the living fuck of the Irish outta you if you don’t back off,” Cappie snaps. Those closest to him know he is rarely like this, except in intense situations when his emotions and protectiveness for his loved ones are mixed together and almost blasting off the charts. No doubt this situation is attracting a small audience of anyone near the main ballroom exit. Cappie doesn't care about them, but he hopes Chanel doesn’t see him like this. His New York City street kid side isn’t pretty when it makes a cameo.

He barely takes another step forward, still gripping Trevor by his jacket, when his housemate shows up. As Eli puts himself between them, Cappie lets go immediately and takes a step back. The last thing he wants is his big bro caught in a melee crossfire.

Eli asks why he's here, and Cappie replied, "Oh, y'know, passing through the neighborhood when I found them, that's all." He still feels tense with adrenaline despite his second BFF's appearance.

“Take her and go outside. I’ll meet you out there. Now. I’ve got this.”

“Be careful—he’s got a soft chest,” Cappie tells Eli without humor. With one arm draping around her shoulders, he leads Ash away from the scene. He takes her outside of the building, at another part of the building where paparazzi aren’t in sight. Cappie flops down on the stairs in front of the door exit and motions his hand at Ash to sit beside him. He knows she needs a shoulder to lean on after that mess; he even takes out his dark blue handkerchief accessory from his chest pocket, in case she needs it.

“What a sad, strange little man you have to deal with,” Cappie quips dryly, partially quoting a famous space ranger. He inhales from his nose and exhales through his mouth. You almost hear his thoughts counting to ten. Or twenty.

He sees Eli approaching them and sitting by Ash’s other side.

“We can talk about it later at home,” Cappie says. “Maybe start Halloween movie night early tonight if Gen’s still awake. Watch Michael Myers go stabby-mode, and The Conjuring. And Robert Eggers’s The Witch ‘cuz I’ve never seen it. I’ve heard it’s great.”

This is just another way of helping himself feel relaxed again. Rambling aloud whatever is on his mind. He likes to believe it helps everyone else too if they try. He always wonders how his best friends put up with him and his motormouth.
code by valen t.
 
Oates Oates
"Stop talking, Oates."

@Oates has set their status to:
Rambling. Again.

@Oates has set their outfit to:
A shirt and some jeans.

@Oates has set their location to:
Blue dance studio.

@Oates has mentioned:
Callum

@Mogy has mentioned:
hery hery ​
😅
😅

Reason unknown for a grasp unseen that the taller boy had on the one with the curly hair. The brooding confusion being omitted in gallons fueled whatever it was that Oates felt on every crevasse and bump of his skin, and that exact feeling nostalgically pulled him to get out of bed and go to the blue studio this early. Nervousness, a common occurrence in his life, had almost never felt quite so strong, or so different for that sake. The curly boy knew the other had noticed him, his own hand still raised high in hopes of achieving this exact moment, yet, a reaction faltered. Always, a similar thing happened, still, Oates feared rejection. He served the other his heart on a silver platter—in form of daydreams about him, both during the day and before sleep. Hitherto, a response was minimal, if even.


Hope was the only thread that connected Oates to the idea the other felt the same way. And that thread only strengthened with a wave back from the older dancer. Excitement showed in the form of a smile, but all the boy wanted to do was screech in exhilaration.


Before time to think about what to do next, the distance between the two shortened, step by step, quicker by the second, and as it did, Oates’ breath slipped, now only so shallower. A question ached him, however, the answer had been clearer than mirror in front.


Why feel this way about someone you don’t even know?


And the answer…


Because it’s him.


Oh, how he wanted to meet the person coming over, oh, how he longed for that knowledge. There was something about those eyes, even from a far, yet, it soon became obvious to Oates that those two oceans weren’t paying attention to him, but the bag alongside. And those suspicions were confirmed when the taller dancer started rummaging through the bag, as if the curly-haired boy had not even been there. As if he’d been but a ghost.


Would the excitement weaken for others because of this? Of course. But this had been the one person whose excitement never weakened. So the curly-haired boy stood there, the slight breeze pushing his ghost body around like an inflatable man in front of a car wash. Sure, subjectively his uncontrollable movements seemed a lot more than they did objectively, but as much as he tried, he couldn’t calm himself down. How could he when the other was right in front of him?


So, he stood there, like a nervous public speaker for the most important audience, because, in his head, he kind of was. It appeared the other wouldn’t say anything to start the conversation, so he tried to think of what to say. Something about that beautiful jeté perhaps? Or about the music that played as the other danced? Maybe not. All they did talk about was dance and music, and the questions were always the same, always Oates being the one to ask them. But the problem was thinking of the new questions.


The two stood there like that, for what felt like hours, and when seconds feel like minutes, minutes tend to feel like infinity. Though then, it happened. The other asks a question, and Oates’ eyes light up. A sigh of relief leaves his mouth, inaudible enough to be caught by the other, but leaving a smile behind.


“Uh, well, my scarf, I thought I left it here by accident, but apparently, I didn’t.” That entire sentence, a lie, but the confusion in the words, completely real. “I keep forgetting things, I guess I’m still getting used to the whole, you know, big famous dance school thing. Did it take you this long to get used to it?”


Why Oates asked that, he didn’t quite know, but he did want to know everything about the other. He wanted to know the other’s favorite color, his favorite genre of books, his favorite president, his favorite parent, even his favorite dance belt manufacturer if it came up in conversation.


Needless to say, he was already planning the wedding in his head, while the other didn’t even know his name. That seemed to be quite a rough spot.


“I think it’s taking me a long time, I know some other freshmen already joined clubs and things like that, but I’m still just trying to stick to schedule. Are you in any clubs?” Another question asked.


“I hear the ‘Art for Noobs’ club is quite fun, but I don’t know. Have any cool club recommendations for me?” By the third question in, Oates himself knew already, he was rambling. He scratched his head as he purposefully stopped himself from talking. Enough was enough, and he probably already ruined all the chances he had. Darn him and his extrovertedness!
º º code by ditto º º [/bord
 
Last edited:






Zeph Evermore


There was a little chuckle from Zeph at Katya miming talking into a phone, an easy grin on his face as he smiled down at the shorter girl. Although he'd been a bit tense before -- or perhaps not tense, just... a little nervous, which was a very normal Zeph thing to be pretty much all the time -- he'd visibly relaxed. Or maybe not visibly, but he had relaxed. There was a looseness in his tense shoulders that hadn't been there before.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, his smile relaxing.

"Good sister," he responded. "I've had to do that with my ahh... my friend, Hunter. Used to go to parties with him and he'd kind of give me this look, and it was my job to go up and save him from whatever chick he didn't want to talk to." Which was usually always Ronnie, although... Zeph kept that fact to himself.

And the fact that Hunter was now dating her, despite all that time he'd made Zeph step in.

Ronnie really did seem to be dating just about everyone now, huh?

Not that he was jealous, and not that he cared. Sure, at one point in time, he would've cared. He would've been more involved in her issues, and he would've had an opinion about all of it. But now... well now he had Stella, and it would've been really weird for him to still be thinking about some other girl, huh?

Which is why he wasn't.

And hadn't.

Nope, he'd stopped thinking about Ronnie the moment she accepted a date with that asshole that had slammed his head into a bathroom counter (which he was still really mad about).

“But this means I have all the more time to be with friends.” Katya was saying. “Shall I count you among them?”

Zeph gave a casual shrug, as if he wasn't sure. "Ahh, I dunno..." he started, trailing off as he spoke. Another shrug of the shoulders. "Hard question, but ahh... I suppose you could count me." There was a grin painted across his face as he spoke.

"Are you thirsty?" He asked, pulling a hand from his pocket to point in her direction. "Or... something. I mean, it's kinda rude to not ask, and I just..." he gestured behind him, in the vague direction that the drinks were at. "Figured if I was heading over there to grab something, wouldn't hurt to see if you wanted something, too."




mood
chill

location
the ballroom

outfit
snazzy. classy. very handsome.





playing...
Uh Oh
by Junior Doctor​




mentions
Ronnie, Hunter

interactions
Katya

tags
qunqun qunqun


º º code by ditto º º
 






Kalida Davies


About twelve hours had passed since Kalida Davies had set foot in her home country of England. Now, she was standing in Los Angeles, currently flopped out on the floor of her new bedroom with her head resting on one of her bags. Her legs ached from being stuck on a plane for so long -- especially since the last leg of their journey had been spent with some dude that had his seat all the way back so it was nearly pressed into her legs, and Kei had been snoring beside her.

Needless to say, the plan had originally been to hangout at the apartment and just fuck around. Set up their new place or whatever, make some plans for the morning to finish grabbing shit, whatever. But Kalida was, well... she was buzzing with energy from being cramped in for so long. She didn't really want to stay stuck in the apartment, and it wasn't like there was really anything to eat, so...

Damn, what a shame.

Someone would have to go out and grab food.

Forget delivery.

She'd be the bomb ass delivery dude instead.

So, hopping up to her feet, Kalida checked her pockets -- phone? Check. Wallet? Check. Her key to the apartment? Check. Yeah, she was ready as fuck to head out.

First, of course, she walked towards her brother's room, her knuckles rapping against the doorframe beside his bed. He looked like absolute shit, and Kalida knew he was still tired from the trip here, and maybe the sleeping medication that she'd snuck into his orange juice. What could she say? He was a fucking mess on airplanes, so she'd simply been trying to help him out -- if anything, he should be thanking her.

"Hey, little bro," she greeted as she walked in, reaching out with a hand to tousle Kei's hair. "I'm gonna go grab some dinner. Pineapple pizza?" Kalida asked, even though she didn't really need an answer -- she knew her brother really fucking well. So, after a little chat with him, she headed back out of his bedroom and towards the living room.

And there was Rowan, the other roomie. Ollie was already out somewhere, so it was just the three of them.

Now, Rowan was probably Kalida's favorite, and really, the only one she'd really talked to -- aside from her brother, obviously. Yeah, that whole drinking thing where both her and Rowan had gotten in trouble by their parents still lived in her head, and Kalida was still determined to prove to Rowan that she could outdrink them.

Or... something.

She really couldn't remember what she'd been trying to prove before.

"Gonna grab some pizza, maybe take a little detour and you know..." Kalida glanced back towards the rooms to make sure Kei wasn't coming out, and then she mimicked tipping a drink into her mouth with a little wig of her eyebrows. You know, to try and get across her plan of maybe trying to find someone to sell alcohol to an underaged British teenager at this hour of night in Los Angeles. What could she say? Priorities, man.

"You in?"




mood
hype

location
she doesn't know LA

outfit
clothes





playing...
All Star Frozen
by Smash Mouth​




mentions
Kei, Ollie

interactions
Rowan

tags
qunqun qunqun


º º code by ditto º º
 






Elizabeth Sterling


As they swayed to the music, there was a steady increase in Beth's chest. Her heart was pounding in response, and her cheeks were burning. Despite the big game she liked to talk, Beth was still basically just a child. She... well, she hadn't ever experienced really anything. No real dates, no real dances, no real boyfriend. Everything that she spoke about, all of the bravado she pretended to command, it all came from watching way too many romance movies growing up thanks to freaking Tori. And in some way, that had totally rubbed off on Beth.

She wanted it all, though. Beth wanted to be able to experience all of that, even the heartbreak, at least once in her life -- and she was fifteen, and time was ticking away, but this felt like a totally perfect step in the right direction. Slow dancing at a gorgeous Winter Ball with every girl's dream guy.

He was hot, he was tall, he was nice, he was charming.

He was basically perfect.

Now, all he had to do was kiss her.

Instead, he answered her request for really cool slow dance moves, and he gave her a quick spin. There was a smile on Beth's face as she came back to him, his hands then moving to dip her. And for a moment, she thought oh my god, here it is, the perfect slow dance kiss, but there was nothing.

He didn't move down to kiss her, instead pulling her back up.

“And if we’re talking cooler slow dancing moves I supposed it have to be this,” he lifted her up as he spoke, slowly spinning them, before setting Beth back down on her feet.

Okay, yeah, she was very breathless now.

People were looking in their direction, and now, Beth's cheeks were blushing from not just the closeness of Spencer, but just having people's gazes on them. But also like, what if they got around and everyone thought the two of them were dating? And then Spencer would realize he really did like Beth, and--

Well, a girl could dream.

“I’ll show you more moves another time,” Spencer promised.

In the bedroom?

"I would love that," she responded with a sweet smile as they settled back into the rhythm of slow dancing. "Although, those were totally amazing."

And hot. Very hot.

“Shall we take a break and get some refreshments?” he asked. “You look a little flushed.”

Ahahaha, her flushed? No way.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Beth replied breathlessly as she reluctantly let go of Spencer, but still stayed close to him as they walked off the dance floor. She reached up, tucking a strand of red hair over her ear as they walked. "Do you wow all the girls with those umm... those sweet dance moves, or...?"

Or am I special?

That question stayed glued to her tongue, though.

As they reached the drink table, she picked up one of the fancy little fake champagne flutes, taking a sip as she batted her eyes at Spencer, awaiting an answer.




mood
yeah, I got a hot senior date. suck it.

location
Winter Ball -- duh, where else?

outfit
red is, like, so her color





playing...
Heat Waves
by Glass Animals​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Spencer

tags
Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    toxic with a twist and depressed

















Kaash



depression with a twist













I missed you too…

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. She didn’t have to do too much engagement with the person sitting across from her. Her toxicity, her unhealthy codependency reared its ugly when it came to Tilly. Manipulation was her game. And it was not intentional as it may have come off as. She wasn’t self-aware enough to be intentional THOUGH she was told by her therapist, but what did a 50 year old black woman from Albany, New York know about the issues of a teenage girl from Dallas have.

Waste of money.

Kayla had tuned out the rest of what Tilly was saying, focusing herself on the thoughts that was running through her head instead of the date she had accompanied to the mall. Or the ball. Whatever. Kayla was so high she wasn’t entirely sure where she was sometimes.

It wasn’t until she stood up that Kayla’s hidden red eyes looked to Tilly.

What was she doing? What was that sound that escaped her lips and why did it make Kayla squirm just a bit. Enough for her to maintain interest in her words longer than she was just doing. Maybe Kayla was a little off kilter because of her lack of stimulation recently, so she felt a little weird even having those thoughts pass through her mind.

She cleared her throat inaudibly, at least she hoped so, as Tilly spoke.

S..sorry, I wasn’t going anywhere. My legs were just stiff is all…

If that’s you when your legs are stiff…Kayla was starting to open her mouth to say something before she stopped and watched the scene in front of her transpire. There were so many different emotions that went through her that her usual apathetic self, found her having all types of emotions display on her face, but before she could make a comment about it the strangest thing happened.

Some guy, was it..Michael? She believed that was his name, but she couldn’t be too sure because if she had to be honest…outside of her very small circle that dwindled to even smaller over time she didn’t keep up with the rest of the school.

Still, his name was less important and the exchange he had with his date was everything that she had her focus on.

What the ACTUAL fuck. What just happened? What was that exchange that got her date so…something?! And the nerve of the jerk to act like Kayla didn’t even exist. If she wasn’t already high as a kite she would feel anger about that. She would pin that emotion for later though, she ain’t really care in the current moment as much as she would like to believe. If she was being honest, most of her fear came from losing control over Tilly. Tilly was her saety net, and she’d be damned if someone took her from her.

Do, uh, you want to dance, Kayla?

Kayla blinked a few time behind those shades of her’s.

She blinked a few more.

She didn’t want to dance.

She didn’t want to be here.

She wanted to run away from all of this.

“I would love to,” she lied easily before taking her counterpart’s hand. She needed to keep up the lie, right? She couldn’t let that boy take her Tilly away from her. So if she had to dance, she would dance.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
MOOD: Good Times Are Being Had

OUTFIT: Look Ma I'm Tryna Look Good

LOCATION: Ball
basics
MENTIONS:
Jordan (kinda)

INT:
Kinni AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami
tags
TL;DR Dancing (derogatory)
tl;dr
Bailey

Bailey watched the stare-off. The guy was talkin’ to another girl. Rather rude of him. They didn’t understand a lot of relationships - especially those amongst highschoolers. Like, why would you tell someone that you weren’t gonna come to a dance, only to actually show up to the dance you know your girl was gonna show up to only to start talking to a girl that wasn’t yours? Like…

Hello? Brain cells? Teenage boy?? Didn’t really make sense to them.

More than that, they felt pretty bad for Kinni. Should they… yknow, be a good person. Direct the two lovers towards each other? That would be kinda callous considering their date definitely was trying to avoid them. But that would probably be healthier overall for the relationship.

Ugh, this was why they didn’t deal with this kind of nonsense. The romantic touches, the longing, yearning stares. It was all complete garbage and honestly if this guy could get his head out of his ass and just, y’know, talk to his girl MAYBE this all could’ve been avoided.

But no, here they were. Stuck in the middle of what was probably this weird dance - like two birds trying to intimidate the other into standing down.

Honestly, between this and the paparazzi they absolutely regretted attending the ball. But hey, what was done, was done.

They drank the rest of their drink that they’d poured for themselves. Another little glance over to where the boyfriend was still talking to whoever that was (her name was Stella, right? Zeph’s girlfriend? They’d gathered that much from the group chat, at the very least).

Y’know what, they were probably overthinking this, they were going to just dance with their friend and it was going to be fine. Right? That was the right thing to do here?

No, overthinking again. Okay. Just be cool.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” There. That was a normal response. A normal, straightforward response. It was fine. Everything was under control.

They smiled as they led Kinni over to the dance floor. A fast song. Good, no awkward lingering touches and weird staring into each other’s eyes. They didn’t really feel like being accused by Kinni’s guy for trying to steal his girl or some nonsense.

A little gentle twirl here, a fun little spin there. It was a lighthearted dance, nothing too serious. Exactly what Bailey wanted. They weren’t really the most coordinated - more skilled with their hands and their hand-eye coordination rather than with their limbs. Couldn’t imagine the amount of physicality that dancers had to bring. All awkward angles and limbs.

That is to say, it was a miracle that Bailey didn’t step on someone’s foot. They were, at their core, a really socially awkward nerd (self-admitted). Dancing with a partner was definitely not going on their resume any time soon, but they were having fun with their friend Kinni so like…

That was all that mattered, right?
code by valen t.
 
lezz go bitches
lillian kimura
The apartment that housed the newest couple at Hollywood Arts could be found nestled above the bars and clubs of downtown LA. It was eclectically decorated, with Lillian and Rox’s separate and distinguishable styles donning the walls and furniture. Lillian seized the opportunity to bring some colour into the place and spent a week wallpapering the two bedrooms, living room, bathroom and kitchen in elaborate patterns and prints, as well as customising a feature wall in every room. It was cosy, adorned with candles, plants, blankets, pillows and bean bags that could entice any visitor to slump and relax. Lily and Rox had made a place that finally felt like home.

Their acceptance to Hollywood Arts served as a huge turning point for the couple. Lily was desperate to shake off her mom and put some distance between them, while Rox wanted out of her dad’s place just as much. They’d been dating a while, so it made sense to get a head start on the next part of their lives together. They gathered their things, rented a U-Haul van, and drove thirty minutes into LA’s buzzing city centre, excited at the prospect of the unknown.

It came as a surprise to the pair when their invites to their new school’s Winter Ball arrived not long after they themselves had settled into their new pad.

Both girls were in the kitchen, hunched over the two invitations and the delicate white envelopes they arrived in. “We have to go!” Lillian decided, arguing that it was the best way to scope out their new counterparts and classmates. “There’s politics in these places, Rox. Cliques and big personalities. An event like this will be published!” Lillian paused, moving her hand across the kitchen surface and onto Rox’s arm opposite. “Come with me. We can dance, it’ll be nice. I promise.”

Lillian knew that a dance wouldn’t necessarily be Rox’s cup of tea. It wasn’t necessarily Lillian’s either, if she was honest. During all the excitement of the move and her newly gained future at Hollywood Arts, Lillian developed a new eagerness to take on LA with vigour and motivation. She wanted to meet the people, see the sights and live the life. Even better, now she had Rox beside her.

The night of the ball quickly arrived, and quelle surprise, neither of the two girls were ready. Their wardrobes and closets had been emptied, with clothes strewn across the bedroom alongside the occasional shoe here and there. Lillian situated herself at the bathroom mirror, with Rox at the dresser in the bedroom. Each had a steady supply of Pepsi and vodka to see them through their prep.

“Babe, have you seen my concealer?!” yelled Rox through to the bathroom. Lillian appeared next to her, concealer in hand.

“Here,” she said, handing it to her girlfriend. “It’s too pale for me anyway.” She sighed softly, watching Rox as she looked at herself closely in the mirror. “Look at you. You look amazing. Mmm.” She leaned in and placed a single delicate kiss on Rox’s cheek, then stood back in admiration. They were late, true, but it was bound to be a good night.


coded by reveriee.
 






kellian phelan


Angel’s fingers reached out and took the condom from Kelli’s hand, and she let out a little (very obvious) involuntary sigh of relief, her shoulders giving a flop of oh thank gosh, it worked.

“Yeah. Brothers,” Angel agreed, nodding.

“Brothers,” she repeated, nodding, giving him a little smile.

“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t know that was what he put in my pocket,” Angel said, his voice kind of quiet.

Was he…okay? He kind of didn’t sound it. Kelli’s brows knit together in concern. This had to be really, really embarrassing for him. Maybe her plan of avoiding embarrassing him hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped. Crap. “Brothers…suck sometimes,” she offered, tempted to reach out and do that consoling shoulder stroke thing that Bella did sometimes.

Angel nodded slowly, giving a shrug. “You know the feeling? The helpless little sibling kind?”

She gave a small grimace, then a little nod. Unfortunately, Kelli knew all too well.

I’m clean, Kelli, he told her, and she knew that wasn’t true. Still, she was too “young and innocent” to get involved with his stuff, she guessed. She was too “young and innocent” to be able to do, well, really anything on her own. She’d come here as the first motion of taking her life by the horns, and Kian had to follow along. Not that she minded him being here, because she loved him with all of her heart. It was just…she was just helpless, everyone thought, especially everyone in her family, and, well, she wasn’t able to do anything on her own to prove them wrong.

“It…sucks,” she said with a small laugh, looking down. She shrugged her shoulder slightly.

She would honestly rather just forget about it. It was seriously better not to dwell on negative emotions, she knew.

“Never a dull moment when you’re constantly compared to someone so…like Javi,” Angel admitted. She lifted her eyes to him, breathing out a deep breath as he sat his cake down. “Back before he came here, I used to be able to hide away and be perceived by, like, no one. And now, somehow, whatever he’s doing has landed me all in the middle of everything and it’s really a strange feeling and it’s a lot to handle at once and…”

Kelli’s heart squeezed sympathetically, and she took a step closer to Angel, reaching her arm out and giving his shoulder a quick squeeze before dropping her hand again.

He took a breath, giving a frazzled-looking smile. “But, well, we wouldn’t have gotten to talk if it wasn’t for our brothers’ performance, right? So it hasn’t been for nothing.”

Something about that made Kelli a smile and giggle a little. She just really appreciated, you know, like…well, maybe you didn’t know, ‘cuz she didn’t really know either, but she still appreciated it. “I dig the optimism,” she said.

Angel grinned. “They mean well, I think,” he said. “Kian messaged me, which was frightening because I thought he’d get the wrong idea about us, but he actually said something pretty insightful.”

Kelli felt her cheeks redden. Kian… She’d forgotten he’d done that. He really could be super embarrassing sometimes…

Still, her curiosity was piqued. “Insightful…?” she repeated incredulously, slightly cocking her head.

Angel lifted a finger in the air, slowly building up to his next words, and Kelli craned her neck, giving small nods as though that would help her find out the insightful words sooner. “But I don’t remember what it was.”

Kelli sunk her shoulders dramatically, sighing and shaking her head.

“It was pretty cool of him, though,” Angel said, and she returned back to normal, raising her head and standing up straight. “You guys have that in common, if you don’t mind me comparing.”

Being cool? Kelli wanted to ask. Her cheeks tinged a darker red.

“You do a decent job of putting up with crap,” he said. “Especially my crap. Thanks for letting me take a load off.” He smiled warmly.

Kelli’s smile pressed into a similarly warm smile, giving a soft laugh. “Hey, your stuff isn’t crap, guy!” She gave his arm a knock with her knuckles, shaking her head and giggling. “Don’t even start with that, dude! Legit.”

She let out another little giggle. “You’re…legit super dope, dude,” she said, and then she looked down, shook her head. and laughed, shyly lifting her hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. C’mon, Kelli, you can do some better words than that. She laughed softly, looking back up at Angel through her eyebrows. “No, uh, I mean, like…” Her eyes moved back to the ground, and her smile broadened. “Really. Legit.”

Gosh, her face felt really hot right now.

“Uhm…,” she warbled, suddenly aware of a nervous drumming in her chest. She lifted her head up again, looking away from Angel and out to the crowd, and she puffed a little breath. “I…well, I kinda really had a hard time making friends before I came here,” she relented. Why was she talking about this now? “I dunno, it just kinda sucked for a long time…” She went quiet for a moment, then turned back to Angel with a smile. “But then, like, I came here, and I met all of these freaking dope people. Like, ya know, Ronnie! And Bella, and…” Her smile broadened. “And you!”

Thump, thump, thump. Why was her heart going crazy?

“Uhm…,” her voice shuddered again as she looked into his eyes.

Thump, thump, thump.

She broke eye contact, looking down at the ground self-consciously. Again, she brushed a hair behind her ear. “I, uh…” She breathed a laugh. “I was thinkin’, ya know, about how, like, super freaking crazy it kinda is of, like…waitthat’snotthesentenceIwannasay.” She lifted a hand, shaking her head, and she gave another laugh. “Um…”

She looked back up at him, then back at the ground, then back at him, and then she drew in a deep breath and lifted her head. Thump, thump, thump. “I mean, I just…” She shook her head, her cheeks warming up as she ducked her head and searched for her words.

No, no, no, you got this.

She lifted her head, her eyes locking on his. “Tonight’s been just, like, the freaking dopest, funnest night I’ve had in a super long time, and it’s honestly really just thanks to you, dude,” she said. "So I should really be just thanking you, Angel. So..." Her smile broadened. "Thanks.”




mood
: )

location
the ball

outfit
dress!





playing...
dance
by foxes​




mentions
javi, kian, ronnie, & bella

interactions
angel

tags
hery hery


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:






trevor callaghan​


If Trevor was any degree of less intoxicated than this, he would’ve been running away right about now. He would’ve been taking off feckin’ full-speed for the door. Sayonara. Tschüss. Slán. Stoner boy out.

Unfortunately for him, he was not less intoxicated than this. He was this intoxicated.

Feckin’ yay.

(He was going to despise himself in the morning.)

He hardly registered what was happening as it happened: a shove to his chest, a harsh grip of his lapel jacket before he could call over, and a finger pointing in his face.

Trevor grit his teeth furiously. That fucker had just feckin’ shoved him?! What the feckin’ —

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he growled. “That didn’t even feckin’ hurt — what the fuck?”

“I will smack the living fuck of the Irish outta you if you don’t back off,” the asshole snapped.

Trevor tensed up, his hands forming fists at his sides. Leaning forward, a blindly outraged expression on his face, he hissed, “Is that a —“

Thankfully for future him, Trevor stumbled a step back as someone stepped in front of him. Who the fuck is this? he wondered, narrowing his eyes as the guy, who had his back turned to him, called, “Hey, hey, hey!” He craned his neck slightly, confusedly and angrily narrowing his eyes at him, until it finally registered: fucking Eli.

“Fuck you,” Trevor grunted.

“What’s going on here?” Eli asked. “Ash, are you okay? Why are you drunk and yelling, Trevor? And Cap, what are you even doing here?”

Trevor grit his teeth. “Wouldn’t you like ta feckin’ know.”

Eli pushed Cap toward Ash. “Take her and go outside. I’ll meet you out there,” he said. “Now. I’ve got this.”

“Hey!” Trevor glared at Cap, starting to take a step toward him. “You can’t feckin’ run away — we’re not fucking done!”

Fuck. The fucker just kept feckin’ walking away.

Fucking forget him.

Trevor turned his attention — and anger — to Eli. “What the fuck?!” he hissed. “Who the feckin’ hell do you think you are?” he demanded. “This’s none of your feckin’ business — never feckin’ has been. Go tha fuck away.”

Eli didn’t move.

“Did you hear what I fucking said?” Trevor reached out and, with two hands, shoved Eli. “I said go the fuck away.”

Eli stumbled back, shrugged his shoulders, and Trevor watched him with narrowed eyes. Surprisingly feckin’ calm, the asshole took him by the shoulders. “Get your fucking hands offa me,” Trevor growled as he was pulled somewhere. “Are ya even fucking listenin’ ta me? I said —“ Eli pushed down on his shoulders, and he fell down. His butt hit something, but he was too preoccupied with fussing at Eli, who was walking to some other place now, to really investigate his situation.

“What the fuck are ya doin’, huh? This isn’t any of your feckin’ business,” he nagged. “Why the fuck are you walkin’ away? Wait, no, just keep feckin’ goin’ — an’ bring Ash and that steroid jackwad back, I need ta feckin’ talk to ‘em. Why ya got —“

Eli shoved a glass filled with something toward Trevor. He narrowed his eyes at the surface of the liquid, then looked back up at Eli, confused.

“What the hell were you even thinking?” Eli demanded. 

“What?” Trevor asked in a flat voice, lifting the cup to his lips. Most of the water dribbled out as he began to drink.

“How dare you make her cry like that?”

“She wasn’t feckin’ cryin’, calm your feckin’ tats,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground. “There weren’t any feckin’ tears.”

“Showing up to the one night that she was looking forward to spending time with you wasted,” Eli said, and then he laughed. “Sorry, you’re crossfaded. Even better.”

“She didn’t give a fuck,” Trevor said, glaring up at Eli. He felt something cold on his shirt, and he looked down to see that the rest of the glass’ contents had been emptied on his white shirt. He stared at it blankly for a second, and then his brows knit upward with a realization. He lifted a hand to his head to Eli, his eyes wide with a panic. “This won’t stain, will it?” he asked. “My feckin’ nana feckin’ bought me this, and if it gets ruined, she’ll —“

“Sit here and sober the fuck up,” Eli said. “If you’re leaving, I’ll call you a cab. But stay the hell away from Ash. You’ve done enough to break her heart tonight.”

That made Trevor laugh. His mindset launched right back into anger, his heart squeezing with a furious pain. “Her heart?” His face screwed up. “Ya really think that — hey, bastard, come back while I’m feckin’ talkin’ to ya!”

By the time he’d called that, though, Eli was already out the door.

Trevor stared at the door after it had shut in stunned anger for a few moments.

Then, clenching his jaw, he threw the glass down at the ground. “Fuck!” he yelled, lifting his hands to his head and gripping his hair tightly. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Fuck fucking everything.

He finally looked down at what he was sitting on — a chair of some sort. Oh, feckin’ great, had he gotten put in time out? Oh, fuck that. Fuck that, fuck this, he was getting the fuck out of here. His hands gripped the armrests, and he tried to launch himself up.

RATTLE. He fell right back down.

“FUCK!” he yelled, kicking at the ground, and he tried again to get up.

RATTLE.

“FUCK!”

Finally, he was able to shove himself up enough to grip the wall and tug himself upright.

He glanced back at the door that Eli, Ash, and Cap had disappeared through. He could really feckin’ go out there. Show ‘em all who the one in the wrong truly was, since they obviously thought it couldn’t be their poor, innocent little feckin’ Ash. But they were too preoccupied with feckin’…consoling her or whatever the fuck, probably, and he didn’t want to deal with that shite tonight.

She owed him an apology. She really owed him a feckin’ apology.

Wait. An apology.

It dawned on him: she was going to apologize.

Ash was Ash, he reasoned, and one thing that Ash always did was come and apologize, whether it was her fault or not. And this time? Well, this time, it was all her fault.

“So she’ll come find me, she’ll apologize, I’ll forgive her, for tonight at least, and then we can reconsider the whole ‘public dating thing’ after she promises to do better or some shite,” he muttered to himself, a little mantra to keep his feet going out the front door and to his van.

His hands found his keys, and he unlocked Rachel. He seated himself in the driver’s seat as the door lights came on overhead, shoved the key in the ignition, but he didn’t start the car.

Instead, he waited for Ash, his face screwed up as he tried to calm himself for the inevitable apology, which he would fecking accept. He didn’t know why he should accept it — honestly, he probably shouldn’t — but he was going to. For the sake of Trevor and Ash in the future.

Right, for their sake.

He sat for a few minutes, his head back against the seat, his eyes watching the front doors as other people trickled out here and there, his eyes searching their figures for Ash.

Where the fuck was she?

As the minutes grew longer and longer, Trevor’s anger began to rile back up again. “Where the fuck is she?” he muttered. “Where the fuck is she, huh? Where the fuck is she?!”

Pop!

Excitedly, at the opening of his passenger door, Trevor turned his head to face the figure coming into the car.

His face immediately fell when he saw it was Jo. “Oh,” he said, turning his head back toward the windshield. It’s just you.

It was just fucking Jo.

There was no fucking Ash — where the fuck was she?

Where the fuck was Ash, huh?

“Fuck,” Trevor muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck —“ He looked over at Jo. “She’s supposed to come fucking apologize — where tha fuck is she, Jo?! Where the fuck is she, huh?!” He grit his teeth, slamming his wrists against the wheel. “Shite, shite, shite — she’s supposed to feckin’ be here!”

He looked out his windshield one more time, let a couple more seconds pass.

“Oh, feckin’ fuck this,” Trevor hissed, yanking his car on, gripping the stick shift, slamming into reverse, and flooring it out of the parking lot to the apartment.

……………………​

Trevor talked in nothing but curse words and unintelligible rants until he and Jo (by some miracle) reached the parking lot, piled out, and headed into the apartment.

"It's all feckin' her fault," he continued. "She never feckin' did any feckin' thing except feckin' tried to feckin' fuck feckin' — my whole feckin' life, I feckin' dreamed of a feckin' moment like feckin' that, an' she just has to fuckin' go and feckin' fuck up the..."

He plopped down on the couch, groaning loudly as he did. He leaned forward and gripped his forehead, shaking his head in his hands. "Jo, I feckin' — I'm fuckin' done. I'm fuckin'...I just feckin' want tonight ta feckin' end, and — God, feck, I wanna just...slam my feckin' head into a wall until I fuckin' pass out — am I feckin' —" He lifted his head to look at Jo, a tortured expression on his face. "Was I feckin' stupid or some shite? Or did she feckin' promise me and she broke that feckin' promise?" He stared at her for a couple of moments, then flopped back again.

He winced. "My feckin' head feckin' hurts, fuck, I just want to feckin'...feckin'..."




mood
pissed

location
rachel

outfit
blue suit (+ currently a yellow tie)





playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall
by glaive​




mentions
n/a

interactions
ash, cappie, eli, & jo

tags
Winona Winona 0k_mang0 0k_mang0 geminiy geminiy jasmyn jasmyn


º º code by ditto º º
 






Ashton West


She'd been angry, like, part of her had wanted to see Cap punch Trevor in his stupid face -- because maybe that would knock some sense into him. But then Cappie's hands were on Trevor, and things were heating up, and the anger had quickly washed away to be replaced by panic, panic, panic.

Ash, physically, couldn't stop Cappie. And Cap had already been forced to pick up the pieces of her and Trevor's relationship just, like, last weekend, so would he even listen if she did try to stop him? Like... if the roles were reversed, if it was her grabbing some bitch that had treated Cap like this, there would've been no stopping her.

So in the panic, she'd sent a quick text.

And like a godsend, Eli had shown up in record time, separating Cap and Trevor.

And something about having Eli there, about having to ask him to help with her relationship, about this whole thing... her hands were shaking. She crossed her arms over her chest, squeezing them tightly to her stomach to try and quell the shakiness. She stared at Trevor, studying him as he tried to size up Eli, and...

The anger that had been there, but had disappeared? Well, like, it had been replaced. By like... disappointment? Sadness? She wasn't sure how to word the emptiness that filled her chest, the hollowness that stabbed its way through her heart, or the tears that had started to well up in her eyes.

Maybe because it was like, she knew what she had to do.

She knew what she needed to do, but...

She didn't want to.

“Take her and go outside. I’ll meet you out there.” Eli spoke as he pushed Cap in her direction. “Now. I’ve got this.”

Her gaze fell to the ground at her feet.

Cap's arm fell down around her shoulders, and Ash leaned into his side as she let him lead her away from... him.

They headed outside, to a place where there was no one that would see them, and Ash fell to the steps beside Cappie. With a sigh, she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. There were... a million things she wanted to say, a thousand different apologies she felt she needed to issue, but...

She didn't.

“What a sad, strange little man you have to deal with,” Cappie said.

She let out a dry laugh, followed by a half-hearted; "Yeah." She said, and let the silence fall around them for a moment, until the door opened up behind them. Sitting up, Ash turned to see who it was, and was relieved to see that it was just Eli. A sad smile grew on her face as she watched him walk over and take a seat on the other side of her. He put his arm around her shoulders, and Ash leaned into his side.

“Ash, what happened back there?” Eli asked. “Are you okay?”

“We can talk about it later at home,” Cappie said. “Maybe start Halloween movie night early tonight if Gen’s still awake. Watch Michael Myers go stabby-mode, and The Conjuring. And Robert Eggers’s The Witch ‘cuz I’ve never seen it. I’ve heard it’s great.”

Ash let out a soft laugh. "That sounds... awesome," she murmured, avoiding Eli's question for a moment. She swallowed that lump in the back of her throat. "Umm... yeah, he was just like... I don't know, he showed up all drunk, and umm... well, crossed, actually, and like... I dunno, he was just... mad about umm... Newt and Lucky, and I just..." she let out a heavy, shaky sigh. "I'm like... totally fine, though. Promise." She tried to force a smile on her face, but it didn't do like... super well. Like, it fell away pretty quickly as she let out another shaky, breathy sigh.

Her eyebrows drew together, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. There was a choking feeling in the back of her throat, and she struggled to swallow it again.

Sitting still was killing her, so Ash pushed herself up from the ground between Eli and Cap. Her teeth chewed into her bottom lip and then she turned, forcing a bittersweet smile onto her face as she looked down at the two of them.

"Umm... thanks. Thanks for like... that, you know," she said, and her gaze again broke away from them and dropped to the ground. "I ummm... sorry, I ah... no, like, you two should ummm... you know, go back to your dates. I'm umm..." She trailed off and looked back over her shoulder, towards the parking lot, and where she suspected that a crossfaded Trevor had stumbled his way to. Taking in a deep breath, she looked back at Eli and Cap. "Umm... I'll be fine, and I got this, I just need to umm..." god, this next part, it was hard to say, but like...

She knew what she needed to do.

"I'm gonna go, ahh... I'm gonna go break up with him, and then find my date, so... I'll see you two back in there?"




mood
.....

location
the Ball

outfit
purple





playing...
Boys Ain't Shit
by saygrace​




mentions
Trevor

interactions
Cappie, Eli

tags
0k_mang0 0k_mang0 geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 
Rikki
Ellison
Hatehatehatehate
https:///www.rikki-ellison.com/bite-me
Wonderful, Nikolai seemed quite pleased with the little gift. And of course, ‘I really owe you’ were some of the sexiest words you could get out of someone. Hey, the two may be friends but Rikki was still a power-hungry freak. Could give him an edge if Nikolai tried to drag him into something ridiculous. Nothing serious.

Which was why he chose to mainly ignore that horrid nickname, sparing only a mildly annoyed glance over his shoulder at it and on the wonders of sharing. Given those words, an exaggeration or not as Rikki would hold onto them, he was in a good mood now. Had nothing to do with Nikolai of course, only the promise of a favor.

Door locked up and facing Nikolai again, he gave them another once over. This time, a stray comment left the giant’s mouth.

‘Are you taking me out to dinner first or are you just going to have your way with me in the car then bail,’

"Ha." The laugh was low and sarcastic, but held back from any further comments of the sort, rolling with the little nudge and giving a small jut back as his retaliation. No dinner, and definitely no ‘having his way’ with them, and well, no promises on the bailing. There were far too many ways Rikki could see himself needing to leave and of course… Nikolai would have fun there without him for sure. It didn’t extend the other way so-

He let Nikolai lead back down to the car, keeping a few steps behind her in painful silence.

It would be fine.

It was one dumb night.

It didn’t matter.

None of this mattered.

By the time the pair reached the car, Rikki successfully squashed down his problems. It was a few pathetic hours of his life, he’d dealt with worse before.

His eyes flickered as Nikolai was the one to open his door side. For a moment, he didn’t move. A brow quirked up as if to say ‘Really?’ And then after a few agonizing seconds, Rikki took his seat and let Nikolai shut it.

Gaze kept forward, Rikki was no stranger to what would happen when Nikolai got in. He tensed for the blast of music, dropping his face into his hand as the horrible sound harassed him. This drive alone was already testing his patience.

It would be fine.

Staring out the window managed to dull out some of the noise, after all, there was no real chance for conversation like this and frankly- Rikki didn’t want to talk anyways. There was nothing to talk about.

It was one dumb night.

Rikki closed his eyes, feeling the wind whip his hair around. At least he could appreciate this with Nikolai’s driving, he loved the speed. There was something relaxing about the roar of the road, stinging wind, and fast passing street lights. If it weren’t for Depeche Mode screaming in his ear he might be able to fall asleep.

And if the trip wasn’t so short. Damn.

The car slowed and Rikki reluctantly opened his eyes to see them park. He couldn’t even hear the party from here, not with the car still exploding with music- Hello? Earth to Nikolai? Rikki turned his head to his friend, was there a reason the car wasn’t turned off yet? He was about to yank the keys out himself when she finally shut it all down. Thank god.

Now he could hear the rest of the world.

Which nearly halted as Nikolai turned to look at him. Oh.

He didn’t dare move, he didn’t dare breathe. Why was he looking at him like that- Stop-

”You’re shit at blending."

Rikki’s held breath released all at once as the silence between them was broken by such a ridiculous comment. It brought relief. That was, until large hands were reaching for his fucking face-

"Asshole-" He was pulling away from the grasp, face squished from bein held onto and scrunched up in displeasure. His whole body was shot with adrenaline and tensed up. "Fuck you- It’s my summer shade." Fighting the process.

”Sit still!”

Rikki’s blood ran cold, his struggle sizzling out to just glare at Nikolai. Whatever, it would be done the sooner he cooperated so… Rikki was gripping the seat with white knuckles, letting the torture go on.

It didn’t matter.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Eyes wary of every move Nikolai made, skin prickling under her touch.

None of this mattered.

After taking years off of his life, Nikolai finally backed off, Rikki able to release his vice grip. He was still staring down his friend with a death glare. ’"Next time’ I’ll bite your finger off." He shot back before storming out of the car. A completely normal interaction between them. Seriously.

Now that he was no longer confined in the vehicle, he was able to let go of the tension in his body. Tonight was not looking good if he was this overly aware already. If someone so much as bumped into him-

Nikolai ever so politely demanded his drink, tearing Rikki out of his head. He still had a scowl as he looked down at those dreaded large hands that were all over him just moments ago.

"You should say please." He huffed out, being difficult on purpose after the hell with his concealer. He liked his personal space.

Still, he dug out the flask anyway to hand it over, being extra cautious not to make any contact with skin as it passed from person to person. Nikolai snatched it up like they hadn’t had a drink in years. Not a shred of politeness after abusing his face. How ungrateful.

His arms crossed as he watched Nikolai examine the flask, really, there was no need, the two looked completely different. Not that Nikolai would know. Rikki was just looking for things to be annoyed with.

Finally, the bastard took a nice long drink out of it. At least they both shared that sentiment, there was no reason to be a lick sober during this whole endeavor.

"Let’s get this over with." Rikki shared his wonderful enthusiasm back towards partying. It was almost tempting to take another swig of his own drink, but the buzz still carried through the front of his face and his fingertips that made him decide it wasn’t the best idea.

Letting Nikolai lead the way, Rikki kept a safe distance as they grew closer to the music and laughter. Suddenly, he missed the enraging Depeche Mode from the ride there. It was loud and obnoxious but the car didn't have so many bodies writhing around.

Despite the urge for personal space, he found himself slowly gravitating closer step by step. By the door, there was about half a foot of space from arm to arm. It only took a few seconds inside before he was touching, shoulder pressed against Nikolai to use him as his personal shield. Perks of being with a giant.

He was not drunk enough for this still.

"Is it too late to go back?" He hissed out just loud enough to be heard over the music. There was a lot going on, impossible to keep an eye out on everything. So instead, he kept himself focused in on Nikolai.

Working bottom to top, his eyes traced shapes in the stars on her dress. He doubted there were any real constellations, but it wasn’t too hard to make up his own in the pattern. He paid attention to how the skirt of the dress fell ever so gently, giving the waist more shape. The way their hair cascaded down his shoulders, intertwined with braids. Finally up to his face, the flick of eyeliner attracting the long look and forcing eye contact.

Oops. That was a lot of staring.

He tore his eyes away, a long breath as that whole ordeal allowed him to ground himself. "You really owe me for all this." He reminded, acting as if nothing was out of ordinary. So what he used Nikolai to calm down? Classic technique or whatever, focusing on something easy. Yeah.
coded by reveriee.
 
MOOD: WOOO GROCERIES

OUTFIT: Casually Queer

LOCATION: Following Lida
basics
MENTIONS:



INT:
Lida Winona Winona
tags
TL;DR LETS GO GROCERY SHOPPING !!!
tl;dr
Rowan
Pronouns Currently: She/Her

So, like, Rowan was unpacking throughout the day. She just had so. much. stuff. Boxes and boxes of props and camera equipment and brochures from those weird religious people that kept flagging her down for no reason and felt and the head of a fursuit and needles and ughhhhhhh.

Booooo, responsibility. Disgusting.

Instead of doing the smart thing like “unpacking the random crap” she was instead “breaking in her new mattress” (read: laying down on her bed on her arse) on her phone scrolling through messages like a bot.

For fuck’s sake, they were all so loud and dramatic, just talk about the fucking whale cheese and take a load off, yeah?

… wait actually no, they were all arts kids. Some dramatic fuckery was to be expected. Nevermind, continue on.

Eventually she managed to get off her arse and start moving towards doing something semi-productive with her life. Ugh, moving. Glad that she didn’t have to do this again for a long time.

Lida interrupted right as she was opening another box of stuff, holding up a cute little teapot that she’d brought, resigned to the perilously mountainous and rigorous task of unpacking and staying in for the night.

Hooray!! Another distraction!

“What’s up?” A little grin at her buddy. Lida and her had a bit of history, you see. Getting into all kinds of trouble, underage drinking. All that stuff. Fun!

Or at least, fun when Kei wasn’t around to be a bit of a worrywart. Then she wasn’t as fun. There were ways around it though.

“Gonna grab some pizza, maybe take a little detour and y’know…” Lida gave her a little eyebrow wiggle. Like little caterpillars. “You in?”

“Ooo….” A chance to goof off and ignore the mountain of responsibility that Rowan had with unpacking and settling into their new place by instead going on a wild goose chase and maybe committing some minor felonies?? Sign her the HELL up!!!!

Don’t appear too enthusiastic though. Be cool.

“Of COURSE I’d love to go!!!” Nailed it. She beamed as she went over to where her phone was charging and unplugged it. 37% was good enough, riiiiiight? Yeahhhh, it’d be fiiiine. “We gonna Google Maps this shit or wh- wait a second I need to grab things.”

She grabbed a little tote bag and threw the essentials in there - wallet, Germ-x, keys, phone, chopsticks, packets of salt. Boom. Ready for all kinds of scenarios.

“Okayokayokay, let’s go”
code by valen t.
 






Spencer Gray


TW: guilt, depressing thoughts
Beth’s praise made Spencer smile. Whenever he received praise for his dancing it made him feel… validated, like he was doing the right thing with his life, with his time.

“Do you wow all the girls with those umm… those sweet dance moves, or…?”

Did he?

“No.” he admitted with a slight chuckle as he helped himself to a sip from one of the flutes, recalling how less than impressed Sheryl’s best friend Stacey had been when he’d spun her around once on a dare while they had all been hanging out and Stacey had sworn like a sailor about how dizzy it had made her. It was funny yes, but she definitely hadn’t been wowed by it. As for Sheryl… she might have been once, back when they’d first started dating, but by the end of their relationship?

The answer was obvious.

That she even showed up to see him perform and dance… he’d been very lucky.

“Sorry Beth,” he apologised, lips pressed together as he dipped his head slightly, “I need to go to the toilet for a moment.” Freshen myself up, before I get caught up in the past again.

“I’ll see you later.” Spencer didn’t really wait for a reply, leaving the room as soon as he said the words, guilt gnawing at his heart. He’d told himself countless times before, every day that he danced since Sheryl died, that it was only right that he danced. That he had to become to best dance in the world, achieve his dream of going pro, to make it up to her, to make it so that it wasn’t like she died for nothing, like he lost her for nothing… but now, at this very hour, this very moment, that felt like nothing but a crappy excuse.

A lie he told himself to excuse his actions and make himself feel better about how he and his obsession with dance had effectively driven her to death. Had destroyed her. A selfish and convenient reason he gave himself to not give up dance, to feel less guilty when he stood on stage, when he performed.

He was human trash. Spinning the web however he could so that he could continue to do as he wanted with an easier heart. Just as he attempted to use Beth, to use the kind act of dancing with her when she got ditched by Mike to ease his guilt about the past when he had done the very same to Sheryl.

Spencer’s steps slowed as his thoughts consumed him and his feet dragged behind him as he entered the toilet like they bore heavy weights. The eyes that stared back at him in the mirror were devoid of the lightness they had carried back in the ballroom. They were empty, as if the soul of the owner had died, rimmed with dark rings on a pale face and long dried tracks of tears. Thick black hair that fell in messy tresses framed that haunted face, Sheryl’s face.

Spencer jammed his hand against the sink tap and shoved his head under the cold, harsh water.

Wake up Spence, she’s dead. You already failed her. Think of Nat, of Ez and mom and dad. You can’t go back there, you can’t put them through that again. You can’t fail them.

Then why did you fail me? Why didn’t you think of me?

Spencer’s grip on the tap loosened and the jet of water that crashed down his head eased up.

All those times that you danced the hours away, that you left her behind…why didn’t you think of her Spencer? Where was your consideration and care then?

Spencer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Shit. He needed to switch gears, change tracks, think of something else other than dance, other than Sheryl.

Pulling his head out from under the tap, Spencer gave his head a good shake, spraying water about the room. He was cold and wet, with water dripping all over his shoulder, and his hair was a complete mess. Needless to say, it was going to draw lots of attention and probably questions if he returned to the ballroom looking like this. Then again staying in the toilet until it dried wasn’t really an option not to mention unsanitary. He’d just have to think up of an excuse, it wouldn’t be too difficult. He got some dirt or food in his hair, splashed too much water on and messed up the styling, he’d be able to think of something if someone asked –

“Sorry!” Spencer apologised as he bumped into someone while lost in thought. “Are you alright?” He steadied the person in front of him then paused and gave an apologetic smile when he saw who it was. “Maggie? Sorry about that, seems like I’m always bumping into you whenever we meet.”

He really wasn’t capable of changing was he? Just like with Sheryl, and now he was just being stupid as always.

Remembering that his hands were still damp from running through his wet hair, Spencer quickly withdrew his hands, then dipped his head slightly in apology.

“I hope I haven’t ruined your night or your outfit with my carelessness.”





mood
just smile and apologise like everything's ok

location
Winter Ball

outfit
formal





playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​




mentions
Mike, Ez

interactions
Beth, Maggie

tags
Winona Winona Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202


º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    zooted - out of her mind

















STASSI



Junior(18)- Model - Golden Goddess













She had made a mistake. The usually stoic Anastasia had let her emotions control her.

It was Jace. It always was Jace.

She loved him and she couldn’t understand why. And this lack of understanding was driving her to do things that were not in her character.

Or at least she didn’t believe they were.

But now, now Jace had basically told her to die. While he might not have said that, to her Stassi he might as well had(also this writer doesn’t remember exactly what he said) She had crossed a boundary with the only boy she had ever developed complex feelings for. She knew she shouldn’t have, but maybe there was a part of her that hoped deep down she would have feelings for him.

So far though – that proved to not be the closest to the truth. It, in fact, only seemed that Jace found her disgusting. And in front of all the cameras and everything else.

This would be the time she would feel embarrassed, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let this scene that was already a smudge on her reputation become anything more than a smudge. In fact, if she didn’t want to face the wrath of her father she would need to think of a way to flip this.

She looked at her fist that she hadn’t realized that had balled into a fist, while noticing that her vision was blurred too. Her eyes had started watering. She couldn’t cry, not here. She never cried anyway, why would she let this poor excuse of a man be the reason?

She shook her head, clearing her throat and turning to smile to the cameras, letting out some words in Russian, “High school relationships are so volatile.” She said once in Russian then again in English, with a curt little smile to which she got some of the camera folks to laugh a bit, before she turned away any fake countenance she had up was gone as she moved away.

She took in a deep breath finally entering the ball. But it hit her all like a tsunami. She was struggling to keep it together. She couldn’t leave yet, she just got here, and the optics of that would be questionable at best.

Still, she could feel herself losing her composure. That usually stoic nature was finally falling apart and crumbling around her.

What….should…I…do.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
ximena reyes
sophomore - dancer - 16
ball
excited
a dress
interactions

mick - AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami

'I'm going to be fucking sick,' was the only thing Ximena could think about right now.

Not how she was going to do amazing during this performance or how much fun she was going to have with Mick later that night. No, her mind was focused on not throwing up all over the stage and messing up the pink outfit she had on. She'd performed before, so really there was no reason for her to be feeling the way she was... Right?

Wrong.

She was center stage this time around. Leading the group of juniors for the first time was nerve-wracking. Each rehearsal she went harder than ever to make sure she didn't mess things up. For the past week, she'd been in the studio nonstop. Her daily routine consisted of school, rehearsals, and sleep with very little time to spend with her boyfriend, Mick. Ximena hadn't even gone dress shopping for the ball she would be attending after the performance.

Nothing mattered more than sticking this dance and getting it down to a 'T'.

"Up next, The Royal Family: Juniors!"

This was it.

It was now or never and those in the dancing community would really see how good she was.

Or how bad, if she failed this damn dance.

Their shoes squeaked on the black stage and Ximena could feel the heat generating from the spotlights. She hadn't even started dancing and she was already sweating. God, this was the absolute worst feeling and whoever told her she would feel good up here in this position was a dirty liar.

The moment the beat dropped all of her worries seemed to disappear and she got into the headspace she needed to be in to kill their routine

***​

By the time Ximena arrived at the ball she was still feeling the high of her performance. All of her worrying had been for nothing and they'd done exceptionally well. Everything remained tight and precise, everyone coming together to put on a performance of a lifetime. It being her biggest debut since she join RFJ she had a lot to look forward to as far as her future in dancing went. She had to turn down the invitation to go out and celebrate with her team. Instead, she was attending the ball and would have to hurry and meet her date there.

The best thing about having a boyfriend who was also a dancer was that he understood her priorities. Most relationships failed because one person cared about something else more than them, but that isn't how it worked with the two of them. Mick wasn't trying to hold her back from her dreams and she wasn't going to do the same. Sure, there were times she felt bad about it but she wasn't going to bring it up if there didn't seem to be a problem.

Ximena didn't have money like the majority of those who attended the ball tonight. She wasn't pulling up in a limo or a chauffeur-driven vehicle. Her dress wasn't made by someone expensive, and that was okay with her. In fact, she thought it looked better than some of the dresses she had seen when she got out of her Uber.

Walking into the building, she set out to look for Mick, sending him a quick text.


coded by natasha.
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    awkward.

















june



-the actress-













I can meet her...with you? June thought; You want...me...to meet...her...with you?

“Y-yeah, sure. Okay.” she replied.

Just then, the same doors she had escaped the ball through opened to reveal another student- for all she knew, anyway. It would’ve been easy enough to sneak someone from a neighboring school in, or heck, even a full-blown adult. Half of the kids she’d walked past tonight looked like they could easily be in their twenties, and there she was with her big nose and dopey eyes. So obviously an out-of-towner.

"And you're the damsel in distress are you not?"

June didn’t have a chance to reply, too nervous to interrupt what must’ve been a scheduled meet up. The cold breeze was becoming an inconvenience the more she stood still; her exposed legs getting covered in goosebumps as she declined another joint and leaned against the brick wall.

“This is fun and all, but who wants to go inside and eat some grub?” Niamh asked.

June, who had drawn into herself over the time it had taken to Ollie to light a cigarette, suddenly looked over at Niamh excitedly; “There’s a snack table?”

And that’s how the three of them wound up inside, picking over a table consisting of everything from chips to a platter of gold-tinted sushi.












































♡coded by uxie♡
 




The Winter Ball, one of the biggest events in Hollywood Arts, was finally taking place and Maeve was filling as she was on cloud nine. The past years the girl waited excitedly for the Ball but that year she was feeling more giddy than usual; maybe because she was attending with Felix, so having a date was for sure something that was making her more expectant of the evening. Not that she was sure something would happen; but she could still be hopeful.

Saying that Maeve had big expectations for the Ball wasn’t a lie. She wanted everything to go as perfect as it could be; you know, having her magic night for once that she would remember as time passed, and the clock was getting closer to her date picking her up her heart was fluttering even more than she was sure that at any moment it would explode from her chest.

As she checked herself for the millionth time her phone chirp with a new message coming from Felix and the butterflies in her stomach went crazy, she seriously needed to calm down but it was almost impossible when her cheeks were already hurting from smiling so much that day. Walking towards Felix almost made her heart burst. Would he think she looked cute? Would he like her dress? Was her hair not too weird? But all those worries faded away when she saw that grin on his face.

“Really pullin’ out all the stops tonight, Maeve, damn… you always look cute, but you’re really pushin’ it to new limits. That’s a whole look.” Felix said, making the redhead blush. She was only hoping that it would be sark enough so her date wouldn’t notice her flustered self.
“I think you are exaggerating, but I’m happy with the compliment. You also look more handsome than usual.”
Maeve replied.

The girl was in complete surprise when she saw the limo she wasn’t expecting Felix would get to that extent it was a kind gesture
“You really didn’t have to rent a limousine, but I guess it makes special all of this”
Maeve said. When Felix asked for her wrist, she couldn’t hide her smile as the boy slipped the corsage.
“It’s beautiful, thank you so much.”
She added with a small chuckle at the mention of the supposed chariot.

The time they spent on their way to the Ball felt like a second, she almost wanted to pinch herself to know if she wasn’t dreaming at all, but the sound of everyone around them and the fancy clothing really made her realize she was not dreaming; and she was having one of the best nights in her life.“You ready to conquer the night, Miss Maeve?” Felix said as they stepped out from the limo.
“I’m absolutely ready. Let’s enjoy the night as much as we can.”

Location: winter ball| Mood: heart eyes
Outift: Here | Interactions: felix ( ohdittoh ohdittoh )
Maeve Anneliese Ackerman


Code by Stardust Galaxy​
 
MOOD: like hashtag whatever

OUTFIT: dance... clothes... yes

LOCATION: dance studio
basics
MENTIONS:
n/a
INT:
mogy mogy (Oates)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Callum Richards
“Uh, well, my scarf, I thought I left it here by accident, but apparently, I didn’t," the boy explained, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for no good reason.

So why are you still standing there?, Callum wanted to ask, but he held his tongue.

“I keep forgetting things, I guess I’m still getting used to the whole, you know, big famous dance school thing. Did it take you this long to get used to it?” the boy continued, none of his words enough to pique Callum's interest. He gave a halfhearted shrug, his eyes now pulled away from his bag.

The room was wide and empty, perfect for a dance studio. Always just cold enough to leave goosebumps on Callum if he wasn't moving.

"Who said I was used to it?" he answered dryly, doubtful this monotonous conversation was even happening. It might as well have not, as the effects of their brief, frequent meetings were never profound.

Cogito, ergo sum.

"You think it's taking a while?" Callum wiped at his face as the curly-haired kid beside him went on pelting questions his direction, none of which he felt particularly inclined to answer. Small talk was the spindly dancer's least favorite formality.

"I've been here as long as you," he clarified, a little taken aback that he had to explain this in the first place, "Though I'm a sophomore." His frank statements covered up his more blunt tendencies; it was probably more trouble than it was worth to state that he could tell this guy was new. He was too optimistic, walking around with an air of naivete formed from a bubble not yet burst. People praised his dancing, but from what he'd seen, his form was sloppy. Guess it doesn't matter when you're a fresh-faced, charming, and attractive personality. He was already marketable.

"I don't do clubs." He zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He could have ended things there, but his feet remained in place. Part of it was the chilly draft in the room that froze his muscles. "Just dance. I mean..." He held a bewildered, uneasy smile that bunched up on his left cheek, revealing a dimple. "You of all people should know that." He was always here. They both were, really, just Callum for longer.

"You don't look like you'd be good at art. You should try debate," he advised stoically, failing to recall more than five clubs at the school, "You seem like you like to hear yourself talk." There wasn't much of a bite in his voice, just a matter-of-fact tone. No chance this Dorothy of a dancer didn't already have it all back home. Friends, talent, and a magnetic personality. Worse, he didn't even know he had it all.

It must have been a shock for him to move up in the big leagues. If Callum hadn't been so resigned, he'd have been the same. Had he the energy, he'd have presented as a much more bitter person.

"And despite that, you never even told me your name..." He let out a wry chuckle, finally making toward the door. He didn't need to know anyway. If this boy got even a fraction of the hint, the conversation would end there. However, a spark of charity ignited within the cold boy. "Aren't you gonna be late, No Name?" He held up a watch, standing in the doorway.
code by valen t.
 






Kalida Davies


Oh hell yeah. Kalida hadn't really thought that Rowan'd say no to her suggestion, so the huge grin that was on her face when she asked didn't really do much but maybe get a little bigger when Rowan agreed to go with her. Oh fuck yeah. Nothing better than getting lost in an unfamiliar country in an unfamiliar city late at night.

Rowan headed off to grab some stuff, and Kalida watched with a curious expression as they came back over to Kalida. "Let's go," she said, and pulled open the front door. Dramatically, she gestured for Rowan to leave the apartment first, and then stepped out after them, pulling the door closed after her.

"You know," Kalida said, relaxing and getting a little less uhh... serious now that she was out of earshot of Kei, "I say we just head out. No maps or anything, right? We just get lost as fuck, and then we can map our way back here. It'll be a..." Lida trailed off, trying to piece together what she wanted to say.

Ah, well, couldn't have been that important.

"What's the worst that'll happen? Someone tries to mug us? We could take 'em."

They could not.

But Kalida was not willing to admit this, because she kind of liked every opportunity to get into a fight. What could she say? Fighting gave a much needed adrenaline rush -- a kind of high that one couldn't really get from popping pills and shit. Trust her -- Kalida knew all about that.

"So what do you got in here?" Kalida asked, poking at the tote bag that Rowan had brought with them. Kind of made them look like those middle aged suburban Karen moms, but Lida was a nice person, so she didn't voice how dorky Rowan looked carrying around a -- pfft -- bag.

See, Kalida was cool. She only carried what could fit in her pockets or her bra.

Think smarter, not work harder.

It made sense if you didn't think about it.

(It didn't.)

"Got anything to... you know..." Kalida wiggled her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping onto her face, "to drink?"

Alcohol, that was the translation. Give her alcohol.




mood
hype

location
she doesn't know LA

outfit
clothes





playing...
All Star Frozen
by Smash Mouth​




mentions
Kei, Ollie

interactions
Rowan

tags
qunqun qunqun


º º code by ditto º º
 
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