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

[qunqun]

MOOD:
Smug Fucker

OUTFIT:
Workout

LOCATION:
Dance Studio

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Maggie Kitsune2202
Isaac dear.szmm
Ez/Kian geminiy

tags

TL;DR: Heeeeeeeere's Johnny!!!

tl;dr

Auguste

Auguste was the easily frightened sort.

Years of abuse and paranoia and gang life had led him to be extremely jumpy and twitchy, even if outwardly he didn’t show it.

But, somehow, Ezra Gray didn’t intimidate him one fucking bit. Not anymore at least.

It reminded him of a movie his friend made him watch. The Shining or something.

Something sharp tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned from the very soft and mild small talk he’d been making to see Ezra bursting into the room with his usual swagger.

Thank you, Ezra, for giving him a very lengthy heads up. It had given him time to prepare mentally.

A demand for the notes. Auguste could barely resist rolling his eyes. He took a cursory glance at the shorter guy who’d entered the room, staring down at him with a look that was probably about five times more intimidating than what he really meant. “... nice to meet you, too.” Then at Ez.

He mouthed two words: “Okay Thaddeus”

But then before Ez could even respond to the ghost words, he spoke.

“We’re in the middle of a rehearsal, Ezra. Go bother someone else, no?” Pause. Head tilt. “Unless the Great Ezra Gray wishes to demonstrate the amazing ballet skills which you tell me you definitely have, I will have to insist you leave…” And then a pointed look as he - for once - straightened out his posture so that he was no longer slightly hunched over to make himself appear smaller and around Ez’s size. He stared down at Ez with a sharp grin. He didn’t pull the height card very often, but he knew that it was often pretty effective. 6’7” and with a wiry meanness to his frame. Not Ez’s toned musculature, but still taller than him. And also just generally more of a meaner look to him. “… you don’t want to actually try to physically resist this, no?”

He knew that oops, the gang shit had slipped out earlier that day in a moment of sheer confusion on his part. Hopefully Ez would have a little bit of sense to not fight the formerly violent criminal.

Another pause as an idea entered his head. An awful idea. Wouldn’t his planning of Ez being too stubborn to leave going to waste just be a damn shame? Wouldn’t it be better if he convinced Ez to actually stay and go through with dancing?

And also, he did, in fact, resent the “boasting” that Ez had done earlier about being able to beat him in a dance-off. It wasn’t the idea of being overtly prideful in his activities, the idea of being beaten, it was just the fact that Ezra Gray had decided to bluster about being better than Auguste. Auguste took quite a bit of pride in his art - after all, he did dedicate an inordinate amount of time to making himself a perfect dancer. This was the one thing that he was absolutely confident that he could floor his friend with.

“… I tell you what. I may have lied to the burning of my notes so I can indeed give them to you. But we will do a little challenge, no? Someone of your skills could… obviously beat me in ballet. With how very flexible and talented you are, of course. So, best me here and you get your notes and to continue the disruption.” Auguste’s lips drew back into another grin. “I’ll even go first.”

A turn to Maggie, a softer more apologetic tone

“Sorry for the lesson being disrupted.”

And then he took center stage. Quickly changing the music to a routine that he’d been carefully crafting for his senior project. Not complete yet, but it’d make do for this.

Auguste’s head snapped up as began to go through the routine. Spins and leaps, dizzyingly fast. One right after the other, extending his long limbs so that they floated and spun without a single hair out of place. Filling them with enough power and control that even though he was spinning in the air, it held the beautiful appearance of being carefully calculated and not even a little bit messy to stare at but with the kind of easy elegance that made it seem like anybody could do it - that it was completely natural.

He may have been showing off. Definitely showing off. So much careful control and beauty in each movement. Emotion and passion of his heart and soul pouring out of every leap and turn and spin - the appearance of being able to defy gravity itself for just mere fractions of seconds. Weightless. Making it look easy and at the same time absolutely gorgeously powerful. Nothing like the stuff he was showing Maggie which was both simplified and not what he specialized in. And none of the playful flirtatious cockiness of his tap solo. This was Auguste at his peak and also completely in his element, every deliberately graceful move bleeding a certain confidence that he seemed to lack in normal everyday life.

At the very end he had a hand extended upwards stretched towards where the stage lights would be, on both knees, staring to where he’d been reaching. And then his head snapped to Ezra as he rolled back onto his feet and stood to the full 6 foot 7 inches and simply gave Ezra a smirk. A confidence - damn near arrogance - that came from a near perfect run of a routine, and knowing that Ez - a potter who’d never gone through a full dance lesson in his life - could never realistically beat him, not at ballet dancing.

“Alright. Your turn now. I know that you are… just… the best, and need no advice from someone as novice at dance as I am, but I suggest stretching before you try to emulate this.” Yeah, he was enjoying this just a little bit too much. He was going to make stretching an annoyance as well.

———-

Auguste watched Ezra’s failure of a dance with a sharp grin. Slow clapping as he approached the boy, he clapped the definitely-not-a-dancer on the shoulder as his ice eyes bored into Ezra’s “Never try to challenge me at my strengths again.”

And then he pulled out his phone. Watched as Ez’s phone went off. He looked up at Ez, and gave him a little wink “There’s your notes, courtesy of Nikolai. They say to ignore the things at the bottom.”

The corners of his mouth were twitching, as he failed at repressing a smirk that easily mirrored the one usually upon Ez’s face. He was definitely being a bit of a smug bastard but hey, wasn’t that their entire friendship? Handing back and forth the smug bastard stick.

“Qu’est ce. All of my notes are in French, Ezra. You suddenly learn how to speak my first language for a calculus class? À moins que vous n'appreniez soudainement le français, vous ne pourriez pas comprendre mes notes. Tu ne peux même pas comprendre ce que je dis maintenant.”

Unless you suddenly learned French, you couldn’t understand my notes. You can’t even understand what I’m saying now.

“Oh. And here.” He pulled out a scarf from his backpack. Dark green and brown. Nice and warm despite the very clearly handmade quality. He wrapped it around Ez’s neck very gently and gave a couple of hearty back slaps to his best friend 5ever. “Bon Noel, mon frere. Get out of my rehearsal space.”

Later, when he was grabbing something from his locker, so pumped up on adrenaline and victory, he didn’t recognize that a letter from the school had fallen out, and was kicked around until it rolled to the feet of one Nickie Abrams.

—-----------------

Auguste didn’t win much. Quite frankly, the world seemed fixated on smacking him over the head whenever he tried to rise above anything.

So yeah, he was absolutely taking beating Ezra at a thing Ezra had no fucking clue what he was doing but was too stubborn to back down from as a win.

And he’d been having a great time at his holiday job teaching ballet to little children. For some reason they liked him. Liked climbing all over him. Liked it when he glared and grumbled because heheh funny angy man.

He played it up a little bit around the children, but still, it was nice. He got paid too.

Tried to not feel too fucking lonely when he was getting high by himself on Saint’s weed on Christmas, wishing that his friend would call even though he knew he wouldn’t. They’d already said their Merry Christmases the day before, no reason to call. But it was still a depressing thought.

Anyways, Ezra had clearly unlocked some kind of repressed need inside of him for socialization (ruined his life) because even though life was going pretty alright for him, he was feeling… lonely.

So, when the annual party at Chas’s place came ‘round… Auguste reluctantly went. Reluctantly as in “decided to actually poke his head out on his own free will.”

So here he was. A cup of mystery juice in hand, while he was looking around for that Felix guy. He was starting to feel bad for “stealing” Saint’s stash. So instead he had started branching out…

… Listen when he was in a gang, he usually beat people up, he wasn’t the resident drug dealer. He had no fucking clue how this works.

And- oh fuck he just stepped on someone’s foot this night was a mistake he wanted to go home now.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry for- oh it’s you.”

Kian’s stupid face was staring back at him.

“... hey.” Was this sober Kian who bought Chas’s coffee for him and drove him to school? Or was this high Kian who he’d have to babysit for the rest of the night. Based on the lack of hugging and crying and general “deer staring into the headlights” look that Kian seemed to have suddenly taken on, Auguste assumed that it was the former. “... you seem… well.”

“... How’s your break been?”

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

unimpressed

lillian kimura

Look, Lillian loves her girlfriend, and she knows Rox loves her too - but she also knows how much other people love Rox as well. It was no lie that Lillian could be… possessive, even jealous; and these feelings were exacerbated by Hollywood Arts. People moved fast here, and already Lillian had seen first-hand how relationships wavered and strayed when amongst such explosive personalities.

Underneath this energetic and bold exterior, Lillian was sad and uncertain. How much she longed for her Rox. She longed for the small moments; the hushed morning kisses when they woke, the jokes cracked over the kitchen counter at breakfast, the hands around her waist as she brushed her teeth. She knew Rox’s music was important to her, and of courseit was important to Lillian too, but Lillian - sort of selfishly, she admitted – just wanted her to put down the pen and paper and be fucking present. Like, actually be there. Two feet on the ground.

She felt like Rox was drifting, and so she told her. That was a mistake. Predictably, they argued. Rox told her to chill; Lillian told her to fuck off. It wasn’t a huge deal, but the atmosphere had been tense. It didn’t have to be, Lillian thought, but if she wants to be ignorant then she can be.

It was New Years Eve, and Lillian was scouting for a stitch to wear. She flung the doors of the closet open wide, heaving the hanging clothes left and right.

“You’ll look beautiful in anything,” said Rox appearing behind, wrapping her arms around Lillian’s waist. “Come on, I want to get in before all the good alcohol is gone.”

Lillian sighed, turning around to face her girlfriend. Even now, Rox’s face totally astounded her. She was an artist more so than Lillian could ever hope to be.

“Knock it off with the flattery,” she whined. “This would be a lot quicker if our closet wasn’t overflowing with your stuff.”

She held up a embroidered black bralette. “Is this yours?” she asked, looking between her girlfriend and the bralette. She sighed again. “Oh well, you’re not wearing it, are you?”

She pulled her top off over her head, and for a moment gazed at Rox, stood in just her mismatched Wal-Mart underwear.

“So, will I see much of you tonight, or…” she started, hooking her hands behind her back to undo her bra. Her bra dropped, and she paused again for a moment once more. With a laugh she pulled the bralette down over her chest. “Do you have other plans?”

• .
• .
• .

• outfit
• location

  
  

  apartment
• tags

  Harrowhark (Rox)

coded by reveriee.

 

[dear.szmm]

the night is young

Isaac Carlisle

The winter evenings were drawing in quickly, and a chill about the air brought even Isaac to bury his hands deep in his jacket. He leaned back against the cold exterior of his Range Rover, looking about the street. He’d been in this part of LA before, many a time in fact. He knew the Rosa’s owned a loft two blocks north, and that the Harper twins leased a penthouse in the apartment building behind him. They, however, weren’t cause for his loitering.

Isaac was finishing up the winter break highly optimistic. For the first time in a very long time, he had actual friends. Not just casual acquaintances gracing his presence once every few social gatherings, greeting each other with their clammy handshakes and feigned smiles as they size each other up; no, he’d finally managed to retain a relationship for longer than a single evening. Isaac was glad he had wound up with Ez once again; an anchor reaching from the past to his present. He’d happily been introduced to Auguste and had found their encounter rather entertaining. Any man who could make Ezra dance was a good man, indeed. Aside from Ez, tonight, he had the company of another old friend.

‘Heather -’ he called softly as she appeared from the adjacent apartment complex, thanking the doorman on her way. He pushed himself from his resting place and took a few steps to approach her as she reached the sidewalk.

‘Looking lovely, as always.’ He complimented through a knowing smile.

They exchanged quick pecks on each other’s cheeks, as was customary when greeting someone from a familiar circle. He stepped back to his car and opened the door, ushering Heather in with a raised eyebrow and a nod to the passenger seat.

Isaac started the engine and began down the street. ‘So,’ he laughed, one hand holding the steering wheel and one placed casually on his knee. ‘You didn’t fancy New Years in San Fran either, then?’

• .
• .
• .

• outfit
• location

  
  

  outside heather's > in the car
• tags

  PenguinFox (Heather)
  Mentioned qunqun (Auguste) geminiy (Ezra)

coded by reveriee.

 

[geminiy]

Elias Johannes

@elithegreat has set their status to:
: )

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
I don't want to be here pink

@elithegreat has set their location to:
NYE Party

@elithegreat has mentioned:
Cami, Gen

@elithegreat has interacted with:
n/a

@elithegreat has tagged:
PenguinFox

Eli really didn’t want to be here.

Look, he was sure that Chas, Adriane, and JJ had put in a lot of work to deck out their ginormous home and cater the most expensive food. They were all loaded and, if Eli was being honest, they really did know how to throw a party.

Unfortunately for Elias, it was New Year’s Eve. You know, that holiday where everyone is all cute and cozy with someone they really cared about, spending all night rejoicing and being all sweet and cute with each other only to kiss at midnight? Yeah, that was precisely the reason that Eli wanted nothing to do with the party. He knew Cami was going to be there and the very last thing he wanted was to see her right now. Cami hadn’t done anything wrong at Winter Ball, the blame was entirely on him. It was just so terribly awkward and honestly, Eli really couldn’t bring himself to not feel sick to his stomach with guilt over it all. Cami didn’t want to ever see him again or talk to him again, that much was glaringly obvious. He couldn’t blame her for that.

In another rather unfortunate turn of events, Elias also had no choice but be at this damn party. Gen had requested him there in case “something went wrong”. That was, of course, an overly ambiguous statement but knowing Gen, it could mean quite literally anything in the long list of Johannes fuck ups.

So that, my friends, is how Elias Johannes got here: standing awkwardly by himself in the corner of the living room with a cup of water (yes, water and not vodka, though the untrained eye could be fooled) watching the ever growing crowd of people before him, eyes glancing up to the clock periodically.

Only four hours to midnight.

He could make it that long, right?

º º code by ditto º º

 

[mogy]

MOOD: Everything is very nice and I have no problems.

OUTFIT: Blue t-shirt and black pants.

LOCATION: The NYE party (Kitchen)

basics

MENTIONS:
Kian, Niamh, Callum, Charlie.

INT:
Harrowhark (Nikolai).

tags

TL;DR Life is weird, and Oates wants to get drunk because of it.

tl;dr

oates

Oh, what a rollercoaster life had been lately.

While problems were always a part of life, there was something eerily annoying in the fact that Oates couldn’t do anything about the problems he was facing with the people around him. He said he was sorry, he truly was sorry, and most importantly, the curly-haired boy understood it took time and effort to forgive, but he couldn’t stop his brain from asking why; why Kian couldn’t understand his part of the story; why Niamh suddenly blamed Oates for everything that happened even if she didn’t know half of the story; why things with Callum seemed to be perfectly alright in the last few weeks; why Charlie was suddenly leaving the school.

At the same time, things were going better and worse, a parabola on the x axis, hyperbola if you will. Not that Oates would understand what that was.

Still he was confused, and not about the hyperbola, no. About the fact he couldn’t do anything about any of those things. Even if he hadn’t been the one to be irritated, he was irritated. So, instead of worrying unnecessarily, he focused on the things he could change, the things he could affect in a positive manner. Like making a good impression on Callum’s grandparents; buying them the best gifts for Christmas he could find; catching up on the latest sports news in case Callum’s grandpa was one of those guys who really liked sports; learning how to make the perfect oatmeal cookies to impress Callum’s grandma.

And who could’ve guessed it, it worked. He could feel just how much they enjoyed his presence, which felt good for a change. He wasn’t the negative energy in the room for once. Hell, even Callum showed signs of being happier around Oates. But maybe that wasn’t new, Oates just simply never noticed it before.

So somewhere in rural Virginia was where he spent his Christmas break, and while he enjoyed every second, he was kind of glad to be back in Los Angeles. Callum’s bed was just a bit too uncomfortable for him, and now Oates understood why the boy had always been irritated with everything and couldn’t ever sleep. The mattress was all wrong, obviously.

However it was, they were both in LA right now, and it was time to party one last time before school started back up again and he was smothered with math and dancing. And boy oh boy, Oates had always loved a good New Year’s Eve party. The excitement was always blooming in the air, and everybody could feel that even if it was just another day tomorrow, it would be the first one in the next year. And every new year brought so many new friends and hobbies and all the fun times. The party was just the best way to say goodbye to the awesome year that was now behind the world, and an even better way to say hello to the awesome year in front of it.

He’d made sure to make the night perfect by picking out the perfect outfit; his favorite blue and black shirt/pants combination, the perfect cologne, the perfect perfume, the perfect deodorant, the perfect hairstyle, the perfect everything.

Oh, and he made a mental note in his head to say ‘happy new year’ to literally every single person he passed on the street, or seen in the bus on his way to the party. And he stuck to it. He was pretty proud of himself, he wasn’t going to lie.

Now, don’t judge him, but there was a reason why he didn’t want Callum to drive him to the party, and that reason was because Callum had been the most persuasive person that Oates knew, and if Callum wasn’t feeling the party, which he usually wasn’t, that boy would find a way to make Oates stay at home as well, no matter how much Oates had been looking forward to it. So this was just a simple way to make sure Callum didn’t pull any last-minute tricks. Healthy relationship, huh?

No, but it actually was. It was getting there, at least.

Though, if he was completely honest, he would admit that tonight was really just about forgetting most of his problems the only way he knew how; dancing. Oh, and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol which his liver simply could not filter.

It was pretty painfully obvious to everyone around him that the boy never usually drank, or well, only on rare occasions. And that having his third cup of vodka diluted with juice was never going to lead to something good, but nobody seemed to have been stopping him, which meant that he was right in drinking it. What’s the worst that could happen?

He had just been sitting on the marble counter, messaging people on his phone when a familiar voice yelled out a familiar name—his name! A friend!

Just the person he wanted to see!

“Nikki!” He yelled out once he’d spotted the person further away, waving his hand as far as he could to get their attention. “Oh my God! I missed you so much!”

Oates jumped down from the counter, immediately going in for a hug, almost spilling the shot that Nikki had poured themselves. “Sorry!” He apologized, almost instantly letting go of his friend, awkwardly pulling away from the hug to not cause further spillage, or, in this case, spillage.

“I’m just so excited to see someone I’m friends with! Nobody wants to dance with me. They’re all so boring. I just wanna dance. Do you wanna try this juice vodka I made for myself, it’s like really good?” Sure, he rambled, but at least with some vodka in him, he didn’t need to worry about it, and just continued rambling. “What is that, what did you pour yourself? I don’t understand how you can drink that without any juice or anything. That’s like really yuck.”

code by valen t.

 

[_em_]

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  dear.szmm
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

june

-the actress-

June wasn’t exactly the party type. She was fairly sure it was obvious just by looking at her that she didn’t get invited out much. In fact, until Niamh had come into her life she hadn’t truly known what hanging out with friends was- which she was willing to bet Niamh knew, especially since June had turned down every single party previously that she’d been asked to.

Coffee shops on the weekends? Heck yeah. Loud bass, packed houses, and some of their scariest peers? No thanks.

Niamh wasn’t so willing to let her get away with the regular excuses this time, though. And June hadn’t put up too much of a fight; being at home in the middle of one of her mom’s depressive episodes wasn’t fun at all.

“Are you sure about this?” June asked hesitantly as she looked out the backseat window.

They were being chauffeured to the big New Years’ party by Niamh’s grandma’s driver; the only thing preventing her from asking him to turn the car around was the idea of hearing her mom sobbing all afternoon. She messed with the hem of her skirt nervously as the pulled up to the house.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Kalida Davies

Oh heck yeah, she was so freaking pumped to be at her first American high school party. Was it gonna be everything that Kalida had thought it would be, or would it fall short of all the movies she'd seen? Sure, she'd kind of been arguing with herself on that for the last few days, but she'd come to a conclusion.

It was Los Angeles. It was being thrown in a bomb ass penthouse apartment thing. So the answer was simple.

This party was gonna be nothing short of legendary.

Definitely gonna go down in Kalida Party History as probably the greatest night of her life, and definitely as the greatest night of Kei's life. Yeah, that's right, she'd dragged her brother along with her to this little shindig. Was it his kind of place? Not really... at all, but hey, they were in LA, and Kei needed to start getting out.

No one was gonna want to invite her to parties if they thought her brother was lame as hell.

Which meant she was gonna have to make him cool as hell.

So Kalida had shown up to the party, her brother and roomie, Rowan, accompanying her. Now here was the thing, she didn't want to just be seen with people she lived with, so she'd kind of also invited this chick she'd met. Trisha... something or another -- Kalida hadn't gotten her last name, but she was cool as hell.

Which meant that, on their way over to the party, Kalida had super casually kind of texted her to see if she was going to the party -- and guess what? She was, which also meant that as soon as they'd walked through the door, Kalida was looking around for the blonde -- and as soon as her gaze landed on Trisha, she gave her a kind of awkward smile and a little bit of a wave before she remembered that she had baggage.

That baggage being Kei and Rowan.

"Alright, listen," she said as she tore her gaze away the girl, "I've gotta go do something real quick, 'kay?" As she started to speak, Kalida started to back away from the two of them, "Or, well, I gotta go talk to this chick real quick -- you two just... stay here and try not to do anything really lame and I'll ah... I'll just uhh... I'll be back -- you guys just... don't... yeah, you'll be fine."

And with that, she gave the pair of them a huge, beaming smile, and then Kalida turned on her heel and she was walking away towards Trisha.

"Hey," she greeted, giving the other girl a little bit of a laugh as she walked up next to her. "Fancy meeting you here. At this party." Silence for a moment, an awkward grin on her face, before she decided that she needed to explain her joke. "You know, funny because... I knew you'd be here, because I umm... because we... you told me, over text."

Nailed it.

mood
hype hype

location
party

outfit
clothes

playing...
All Star

by Smash Mouth​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Kei, Rowan, Trisha

tags
geminiy qunqun Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont

The weirdest thing about growing up on a tour bus was probably the fact that Casey had never really had a place to call home. Home had really become where his family was, or rather where his sisters were, but now that he was off the bus, and they were somewhere stationery, well...

Casey realized that his home actually was on the road, on the bus, because he'd found himself growing more and more homesick as the days wore into weeks.

He'd thought that taking to school life and staying in LA would be as easy as everything else he'd attempted in his life, but each day was proving harder than the last. It was so hard to navigate fake relationships and real relationships and friendships and people in general. Turns out that Casey really couldn't be himself, because being himself mostly just got people bullying him and trying to push his buttons.

But there was no fake -- Casey wasn't good at being anyone but himself.

'Course, he wasn't even real sure that he knew what himself was anymore, 'cause he didn't really have the motivation to do anything that used to make him happy. His music had taken a drastic turn from bright and happy to something softer and a more somber, and it'd felt weird when he'd gone in to record the first song. Starting Line. Even the producers and music people had seemed taken aback by the sudden turn in the seventeen-year-old's vibe.

Heck, he hadn't even really been setting anything on fire lately.

That's right. Not even fire was getting his blood pumping like it once had.

But that was okay, 'cause this was Chas' party, and it was New Year's Eve, and everyone knew that the point of New Year's Eve was to start fresh. And that's just what he was gonna do. He was gonna start the new year with his great boyfriend (even if he was fake), and with a new tone to his music, and it was gonna be all real cool and then this was gonna be the year of Casey Clairmont and it was just... it was gonna be great.

So with that positive, optimistic attitude plastered in the form of a smile on his face, he'd gone to his boyfriend's party. And nope, he wasn't even gonna let the lack of people to talk to ruin his night, nor was he gonna get down that some people seemed to still be teasing him, and just--

Nope. Nothing was gonna get him down tonight.

Eventually, his wanderings around brought him to a girl that seemed to be just as displaced as he was, and being a real good kinda host ('cause he was basically a host by default since he was dating Chas), he knew that it was his job to make sure that she was having a real good time.

So 'course he popped his way over to her.

"Heya," he greeted with a grin, "how're ya liking the party?"

mood
great

location
the party

outfit
cool boy band clothes

playing...
Starting Line

by Casey Clairmont​

mentions
Chas

interactions
Katya

tags
qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: Hm.

OUTFIT: A whole 3 colors

LOCATION: School.

basics

MENTIONS:
Nikolai


INT:
Jace Winona

tags

TL;DR Entertain me, cucciolo.

tl;dr

Teo

Nikolai was a fun fuck. Genuinely. Nice and simple. Straightforward. Much more like what he was used to. Alright then. So this school wasn’t so fucking boring after all. Which meant that this student body had actually gotten his interest in something to be something that might not just be a bunch of horny teenagers who don’t know how to have fun.

He, unfortunately, was infinitely curious about this whole deal. So he’d resolved to hang out more by going to the massive party at Chas’s place.

Teo had gone to a good many parties in his day.

Fuck, that made him sound fucking old.

But he had gone to a lot of fucking parties, though there was a huge contrast from before the adoption, and then after. The ones before were at rundown barns and shitty farms. The ones after being ritzy nothingness and bubbles of alcohol snuck as he fucked a prince or two.

It was a great time either way. Definitely in his entertainment. And besides, his parents had forced to take him to a stupid fucking conference full of old rich assholes who wanted a prissy pompous heir. He gave them conversational, philosophical musings. Played his part.

So here he was. At another rich as fuck, pompous asshole’s party. But this time with people his age and he could actually drink and not get into a deep debate with people about gay rights. (Spoiler alert: He won out of sheer stubbornness).

So here he was. And quite frankly, he was ready to stir up trouble. He wasn’t really feeling the whole “hookup scene” right about now, but he was feeling the “start doing shit and see where it leads” tingles.

So he glanced around to find the most nervous, pathetically chihuahua-esque wreck that he could find - mostly to fuck with. See what poking the hornet’s nest could lead him.

His eyes landed on Jace West. Yes. He’d do nicely.

He mixed another drink and waltzed over, his apathetic face breaking into a smooth grin, dark eyes. “Hey there, you mind a bit of company? Made you a drink.”
He said, leaning back as he offered the glass of the vodka mixture to the blond kid. Poor little thing, he looked like he was a newborn foal - all shaky and unsure. The big soft eyes of a lamb being pushed to the slaughter.

A slight tilt of the head. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite unless asked. But that’s neither here nor there.”

Take the drink. Take the drink.

Good boy.

“Matteo Wright, friends call me Teo. What’s your name?” Listen, he had to build a little bit to poking the sad sad lapdog, okay? He didn’t want his entertainment to run away after one little prodding. That wouldn’t be any kind of fun.

“Pleasure to meet you, cucciolo.” Well, hopefully Jace didn’t speak Italian anyways. Maybe he’d find it charming. The image of a little trembling puppy was still imprinted in his mind. “How’s your break been treating you?”

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

Javi & Angel

People were keeping secrets. Javi could practically taste it in the air, and boy was it bitter. To his right in the passenger seat was Angel, the younger brother he despised to no end, but nevertheless maintained his brotherly obligations to. The shorter boy was otherwise known as the primary keeper of secrets, though likely oblivious to his older brother's knowledge of this.

The muscular drug dealer had gathered as much in the past few weeks, brought about by a rather enlightening encounter with a bystander to drama between Angel and Lin... Javi could only speculate what was discussed, but the positively unnerving fact was that his name was allegedly absent from their conversation. Was his accursed name no longer even worth the mention?

Unknowingly, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, causing his fist and forearm to tremble slightly. Angel's attentive eye winced at the sight, and he clenched his teeth wondering just what had set his brother off now.

The artist's voice was subdued, a near-mumble. "Thanks for the ride." Angel had to choose his words carefully around his brother. He had once thought that over the years tensions would mellow, but toward the end of their high school years, the situation was still looking bleak. How could he have predicted that one teenager could hold such a nasty grudge?

"Don't mention it," Javi replied curtly, eyes focused on the road. There was no warmth in his words, the result of a careful separation of brotherly regard and general human respect, only one of which was present between the boys. Javi knew how much it pained Angel to be this way; perhaps, somewhere down the line, it became an intentional act.

Finally, the pair of brothers reached Adriane and Co.'s apartment, an unmissable landmark thanks to the rows of cars lined for blocks down the street. That and one could get a glimpse of their flashy, expensive penthouse from miles down the horizon. Angel stepped foot out of the car first, his sneakers tapping with a quiet echo on the rain-soaked pavement.

Will it rain again tonight?

A sliver of Angel's childish imagination hoped so, even if it meant the guests up on the top would be barred from a pleasant dip in the hot tub. The mental image of hopping in rain puddles brought a smile to the quiet boy's face. Besides the uniform ripples in the water, Angel couldn't help but be enthralled by the way the bright city lights reflected in the puddles, adjacent neon signs bursting with vibrant color on the ground.

That was the last time Angel felt anything under his feet, really. These days, it was more than just his head in the clouds. Often, the soft-spoken junior would find himself swimming in the blue sky, hopping from thought to thought until he found the comfort he sought in the inviting recesses of his mind. Being alone with his thoughts was soothing that way, no matter where he was.

"What're you waiting for?" a voice rang out, which Angel took an extra moment to recognize as that of Javi, who stood beside him with his hands in his pockets. Guess he really was good at spacing out.

That was embarrassing.

"Oh, uh, right," Angel responded instinctively, his forced words winning the race against his rational mind. Javi merely shook his head, setting on his way down the sidewalk and toward the building. His hand fumbled with something in his right pocket, and Angel could only wonder with a dismayed curiosity what was in his grip.

He had been using again. Javi was anything but oblivious to the shakes and the persistent cravings, but it wasn't a problem. After all, he had what he needed, and an addict with a stable supply is a mostly harmless one. The impatient bassist had always said that about his clients and colleagues, and he swore he was smarter than the type of guy who fell into that trap.

Angel didn't know how to tell him he was wrong.

Just outside the front door to the elevator, Angel and Javi lingered, shuddering as a cold wind swept by. The shorter of the two boys gazed upward at the many stories above, then at his brother with an uncertain expression. Javi didn't know why they were waiting, so it was surprising that he had held off from asking questions up to this point. Angel could tell that the clock was ticking based on the way his brother tapped his foot and couldn't stop moving his head, as though something could sneak up on them at any moment.

Medicated or not, Javi was always a restless guy. It was something Angel admired to an extent. He was perhaps a bit too good at letting things go, even if he did hold a plethora of grudges. Most of them he definitely did not remember the details of. Just that he was mad. Angel found himself more prone to getting stuck on things, sinking into a pit and fixating until a resolution arrived. Though life is a mess, that philosophy alone felt like some semblance of organization amid all the chaos.

A familiar question arose. "You going in?" Javi gave Angel a light prod, nodding his head in the direction of the door. Other groups of teenagers trickled in toward the elevator, all squeezed too close for comfort. Angel knew immediately that the whole apartment was going to smell like sweat.

Tight-lipped, the artist did not step inside just yet, and so Javi did not either. Call it sibling responsibility. "You're fucking weird," the hoarse-voiced junior muttered, standing firmly in place. A feeling he couldn't quite name kept him rooted just beside his little brother, whose eyes darted back and forth between people in the small crowd formed outside.

Angel squinted, certain that the individual he was searching for was out there somewhere. Come on, just show... You have to pass right by us.

playing...
song

by singer​

this post was made in collaboration with JUST HERY BCH
tag collaborators

mentions
Zeph Lin

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Elizabeth Sterling

High school parties were something that as a freshman, Beth had never experienced -- but now that she was a sophomore and basically an actual teenager? Like, now that she was actually considered one of the big kids and not some dumb little freshman child.

Now, she could actually have fun.

Or, like, she could drink or whatever without people snatching things out of her hand and telling her to go back to middle school or whatever. Ugh, people could be so bitchy and annoying and uppity. Like, what was oh so wrong with her drinking? As if they hadn't done the same when they were freshmen.

Anyway, ignoring that, she was actually at the party now. And like sure, she hadn't really hung around anyone that she knew quite yet, because she really wasn't in the mood to deal with fake bitches like Kinni and Polly -- and like, she could've maybe hung out with Stella, but Stella was always all over her stupid boyfriend, so like... well, Beth wasn't really a fan of being a freaking third wheel or whatever, so...

Although, if she kept her eyes on the prize, she wouldn't be third wheeling for much longer.

Oh, that prize? None other than Spencer Gray, who she'd spotted in the party. Of course, Beth hadn't approached him right away, instead she'd kind of kept a side eye on him. Like, she didn't want to appear super desperate or like she was stalking him or whatever -- and yeah, she was a little worried about appearing that way, especially with how she kind of always seemed to show up wherever he was.

Also, she wanted him to view her as a whole adult. A mature older woman. Not some bubbling child who, like, had sparkly stickers on their binder or whatever it was that young girls did.

(See, she was already so far removed from being like that that she couldn't even remember what young girls did.)

Eventually, though, it was time for Beth to make her move.

So she took a sip of her pungent, disgusting drink, nearly coughing and puking against the taste, her eyes watering as she struggled to keep the vile liquid in her stomach, a hand pressed against her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting until the waves of nausea disappeared, and then she took a deep breath.

Okay, time to work up the courage, Elizabeth.

With a gorgeous grin painted on her face, Beth swayed her way towards Spencer.

"Heyy," she greeted with an ever widening smile. "I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

mood
adult

location
party

outfit
clothes

playing...
Good Girl

by Julian Moon​

mentions
Polly, Kinni

interactions
Spencer

tags
Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

Following his little run in with Javier Cervantes at school, Zeph was really starting to look rather ahh... well, worse for wear, so to speak. At least the thing with Javi hadn't really left him with any visible abrasions, because how pathetic would it have been for him to have picked something like that up along with the cast that was encasing his arm?

But hey, like he'd said, that hadn't happened, so there was no reason to be getting down about it. And the rest of his school week had been pleasantly Javi (and any bullies) free, so he'd had a fairly good time after that. And there had been no better way to end all of that than with break.

And, well, Zeph had gone home for Christmas -- just for a few days, and the huge change in time zones had kind of fucked him up, but now that he was back in LA, his biological clock was catching up and everything was feeling a-okay once again. It had been nice and worth it to be able to see his family, too, especially his little sisters. For a few days there, everything had just felt... okay. Alright. Good. Amazing.

Plus, his cast was finally removed so really, the NYE party had nothing but positive vibes. Like, the optimistic man in Zeph was really feeling it now.

Of course, the best part of being back in Los Angeles was that he was back with his awesome girlfriend -- because yeah, Zeph and Stella were still going super freaking strong. There was a grin on his face, even, as they had headed into the party. Being next to Stella, it just... it always felt right, you know?

Like he was comfortable, like he was in his element with her next to him.

"What d'ya wanna do?" he asked, his voice raised a bit over the thud of the music.

mood
happy

location
party

outfit
clothes

playing...
Lost Boys

by Ocean Park Standoff​

mentions
Javi

interactions
Stella

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[mogy]

MOOD: Need drugs. Need them. Please, sir.

OUTFIT: Jacket with pink hearts and matching emoji hoodie/sweatpants.

LOCATION: NYE Party (Outside).

basics

MENTIONS:
Nathan

INT:
Winona (Damien), jazzyball (Matt)

tags

TL;DR Beelzebub wanted some drugs and he found a good way to get them.

tl;dr

beelzebub

Parties were Beelzebub Woods' natural habitat. And it seemed the Beelzebub species was endangered due to the deforestation of his primary—whatever. The point was that he really needed a party to let loose after spending Christmas overstuffing himself with leftovers in the fridge. He was pretty sure they weren’t even that old and had still been somewhat edible, but his stomach didn’t agree with whatever it was that Nate stored in that weird plastic container, so he also spent a part of Christmas break vomiting his guts out—again.

Truth be told, the boy just needed some weed or pills or whatever whoever could come up with. He was pretty sure that withdrawal symptoms were making him vomit even more, and he just couldn’t have that, could he? While his food predictions obviously weren’t that good, his drug sensor was almost never wrong, and that little device inside of his brain was beeping quicker with each minute closer to the party; with each step taken nearing the bitch whore whatever manor. If he had already been high he would’ve jumped in anticipation and excitement, but he was sure there would be many-a-times for him to jump in anticipation and excitement at the party.

It wasn’t long after leaving his apartment that the smell of overpriced branded perfume became stronger and stronger, and if you asked literally anybody, that money could’ve been spent on much better things like drugs or at least a cheaper perfume which didn’t smell like the insides of a rich girl’s asshole. Then again, it made sense that all the girls wanted to attract men with the smell of their internal organs. It was just that Beel was not the man they were hoping to attract, and they weren’t going to attract him smelling like that. He liked other smells, manly smells, like sewers and clogged toilet much better. Girls were overrated.

The moment Beelzebub arrived at the party, however, the first order of business was finding someone to sell him something. This proved to be a tougher job than he thought it would be because who knew people won’t sell you drugs if you had no money to give them? This is why capitalism should’ve been abolished the moment someone suggested it. Oh, and also, no drug dealer liked the weird boy with the bleached hair who promised to pay them back and then never did.

Not even his annoying tactic worked anymore. Proof as follows:

“So, you’re telling me the drugs that you sell people, you don’t test them beforehand to see if they work or not? I don’t know, man, that just seems like a really bad business move to me. Like, how am I supposed to trust you that these are like drugs and not just laxatives that were sold to you by the guy who usually sends you drugs. I don’t know about all these other people, but I’m not stupid enough to invest in that. Hey, I’ll tell you what…You give me these drugs so I can test them for you and then I can vouch for you to all my druggie friends. I’m telling you, man, this is a business opportunity of a lifetime for you.”

I mean, tell me you wouldn’t say ‘here are all my drugs’ to that.

Fine, maybe you wouldn’t but it worked a surprising number of times, and was just bad luck that it didn’t work this time. Who knew word would get around about Beelzebub and his scamming hobbies?

“Whatever, man, your loss.” He said to the guy who obviously had drugs to share and didn’t. “I’ll just go see if they have cleaning supplies in the bathroom.”

And check he did. He checked all the bathrooms. What was with rich people and not keeping their cleaning supplies in the bathrooms. Bad house organization.

It appeared that Beelzebub Woods would remain drugless for another night…or would he?

His eyes almost instantly lit up when he saw two guys outside, doing something that looked an awful lot like not smoking tobacco... Score.

“Hello dudes and gentlemen. Or whatever. Do you wanna share with the class?” He put on the biggest smile and obviously his charm was on. Wait was that Damien?

“Damien, you look like shit.” He didn’t want the guy with the weed to feel left out, though. “You look kinda cute.”

code by valen t.[/borde

 

[Soap]

MOOD: ...

OUTFIT:
Just somethin'
​

INFO

LOCATION:
Her apartment --> NYE party

WITH: Nickie

MENTION: Gen, Adri, Newt, Eli, Auggie, Kian​

ACTIVITY

ohdittoh

TAGS

Livanna Moore

—Breathe

A split second decision, a push in the right direction by her best friend, Liv believed this could’ve been the start of her career.

But not the career the label wanted for her— not the career her manager wanted. She technically wasn’t breaching the contract. She technically was only going against his advice.

Livanna had somehow gotten the courage to post an unfinished song on twitter.

…

Mixed reviews.

She’s gotten mixed reviews.

But some were good!

They were! They were!

But some… were really bad. A lot of messages ranged from—

‘this is different’

‘I like it!’

‘she’s changing up her style because she’s not relevant anymore.’

That one hurt. Just a little.

Because all Liv wanted was to share the things that she wrote.

And… they were good songs… in her opinion anyway.

TW: Physical & mental abuse, blood, and SA.

The door to her apartment opened, and Liv placed down her phone, her features immediately turning guilty, her body tensing up.

The front door shut with a loud slam, echoing across the empty apartment walls.

She didn’t even need to hear his voice to know who it was.

Her manager.

“Why? Huh? Do you live to make me look like a complete fucking dumbass? Do you know what they’re asking me? Do you know what this could do to–”

“No! It’s just—“ Liv stood up from the beanbag, a hand holding onto her other arm, averting her gaze.

“It’s just what? I gave you specific fucking instructions, I told you what would’ve happened.” Nick said, stepping closer to the younger girl and placing a hand under her jaw, roughly lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

“You see the backlash? You’re practically a laughing stock— I— Jesus! How could you be so fucking idiotic?!” His voice raised and her shoulders sunk, taking a step away from him and allowing her back to rest against the wall.

It wasn’t that bad!

It really wasn’t!

“Why. Tell me why you did it, huh?” Nick closed the distance between them and was in her face, inches away from her.

She looked down, her body curling in a desperate attempt to make space between them.

“Tell me.”

…

“I just wanted…”

Tears began to pool in her eyes and Liv’s voice broke, trailing off.

He watched her carefully for a few moments, waiting for her to continue, and when she didn’t— his fist raised to hit—

No, not her.

But the wall beside her.

He hit it hard enough to make a hole and Liv flinched at the action, raising a hand to cover her face. Maybe it was to keep him from seeing her tears, or the sudden childish urge to hide whenever something scared her.

A knock at the front door came almost thirty seconds later.

“Is everything alright in there?”

Her neighbor.

They weren’t close.

But he was an okay guy. A bachelor-type who was living off of his parents’ money.

Nick didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at her had said everything.

“Y-yeah! Everything’s good. Just… dropped something.”

“Okay… just checking.”

Footsteps were heard on the marble floor in the hallway, before a door shut and Nick nodded towards the hole in the wall.

“Did you see what you made me do? You—“ Nick grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her into the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind them.

His grip tightened and Liv let out the smallest whimper.

“Nick— you’re hurting me,” she sobbed, ripping her arm away and using her sleeve to wipe the tears from her face, pressing her body against the door.

“I-I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry… I just wanted to show off my music.”

This is where he showed an ounce of sympathy.

He didn’t like seeing her cry.

Never did— even when he was the cause of it.

His gaze softened just a fraction and his lips thinned, lifting a hand to carefully caress her cheek and Liv stiffened at the contact.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Her gaze watched him cautiously, bouncing everywhere, from his eyes to his body language, side-eying the hand that was placed against her cheek and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

“I’m just trying to protect you, it’s all I’ve ever done, you know that.”

And this, this was where Liv couldn’t tell if he cared about her— or about himself more.

Whenever she was convinced that he was a bad guy, he’d always do something like this that made her think otherwise.

“You know that, right?”

Nick softly ran his hand across her cheek, wiping a stray tear and Liv’s breath halted.

Stop.

Please stop.

Please stop.

Please stop.

It was something she always repeated— but never out loud.

It was hard to say if she was scared of what would happen if she said no, or if she was so fucking terrified that she just couldn’t find the courage to speak period.

“I care about you— I know you know that. That’s why I am the way that I am, that’s why I’m so strict with you.” Nick’s hand moved from her cheek to her lower waist, pulling her closer.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

She felt his lips on her neck and her stomach started to turn, images began to flash in her mind as if she was living through them all over again.

“I’d never make it without you, Livvy,” He said, pulling away and softly placing a hand around her throat.

Squeezing, but not in a way that restricted her from breathing.

“You’d never make it without me… you know that, too, right?”

While his voice was soft, his words whispered. Everything he said felt like venom hitting her in multiple different ways.

She felt her stomach begin to turn and it was like she was paralyzed.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t speak.

Tears continued to fall and her breath stuttered, her gaze set on the floor before he lifted her chin with her free hand.

“You know that, right?”

He wanted an answer.

The only thing she did was nod.

And he was satisfied with that answer… and for a second.

For a second she was stupid enough to think it wouldn’t happen again, because it’d been so long, you know?

A year.

A year and she thought things changed. They were different.

They were better.

She should’ve listened.

She should’ve just listened.

Nick’s hold on her throat tightened in the slightest way and he pulled her into a rough kiss that Liv didn’t return.

But she didn’t resist.
—

He left a little while ago.

Liv cried, Liv sobbed, Liv clutched her chest and tried to control her breathing and this time it only took two hours.

Four the last, six before that— and the first time Liv didn’t leave her bedroom for a whole month.

She said she was sick.

…

I think I’m sick

Gen knew what she meant.

Liv wasn’t going.

I did not get all excited for you to not come

no

I did not get all excited for you to not come

pleaaaaaaaaaaaaase

Liv was biting the cuticles off her nails, looking at the phone and debating whether or not to go.

She didn’t wanna.

She didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t.

But Gen.

It always came down to Gen.

You’re gonna have so many people there

you’re not gonna miss me

Liv put her head in her hands, sniffling.

She didn’t expect a reply— much less the one she got and she lifted her phone at the notification.

Liv I'm only here for you

She put her phone down, wiping a few stray tears, and brushing her hair out of her face.

“Okay.”

Okay, okay, okay.

You’re okay.

You’re Liv.

You’re okay.

Somehow, repeating to herself that she was okay, was a reminder of what she wasn’t.

Liv stood up from her bed, opening her closet and staring at the all-too-colorful dresses, sequined tops and short skirts.

Her gaze fell to a much smaller pile, darker clothing, jeans, t-shirts that were probably way too oversized to be fashionable.

She couldn’t show up like that.

Liv just had no energy to put into her appearance.

She wound up going with a purple dress, it wasn’t anything special… just something to make it look like she tried

She didn’t particularly care about how she looked, but it was what would people think.

Concealer was used for the bags under her eyes that formed from crying.

Mascara.

A little bit of eyeliner.

You’re so stupid.

Can’t even look at yourself without crying?

You’ll have to redo your makeup, then.

Liv put the pencil down, blinking a few times and taking a hold of what she thought was a comb from the bristles.

—

”I’m so sorry.”

”It won’t happen again, I swear to god.”

”I care about you so much.”

”It wasn’t me. I wasn’t myself.”

…

”Nobody would believe you.”

A pain shot through her palm and Liv looked down to see blood, confusion ridden over her face before she placed the comb down.

That’s when she realized she didn’t grab the comb.

She took the pocket knife beside the comb.

Liv winced as she ran her hand under the running water, with her freehand, she opened the medicine cabinet and found some sort of bandage wrap.

She used that.

She opened the drawer and found a bag full of oxy.

She used that too.
—

The next few hours went by in a daze.

She mumbled a thank you to the Uber driver and closed the door before walking into the party. Her gaze bounced slowly from everyone she’d seen.

Auguste & Kian, she caught eyes with Oates and Liv forced a smile, lifting a hand for a half-hearted wave.

She noticed Newt talking to Eli and her gaze lingered on her ex before switching to Eli, Gen popped in her head almost immediately and Liv set out to find her.

She wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for her and the last thing Liv wanted to do was talk to anyone else.

She’d notice you’re high.

A seed of worry was planted in the bottom of her stomach but she wasn’t going to give it any thought until that moment came.

She just wanted to see her.

Liv passed by Adriane talking to someone she didn’t recognize and her mind drifted to Nickie.

The whole Nickie thing had been something Liv had been ignoring since she realized that she might’ve had feelings for her.

Yes, might’ve.

She had a little more time to think about it over the week and maybe...

No, no.

The bottom line?

Nickie didn’t feel the same way— she couldn't, and… she was at a really good spot right now with Gen and the plan was to keep it that way.

You ever feel broken enough where you just wanted to be near the person you felt like…

You could breathe around?

It was like everyone and everything else was suffocating her and they didn’t even say hello, or pay her any mind, like she was invisible but it didn’t matter.

They were overwhelming her just by existing.

She didn’t plan to be here all night, she didn’t plan on talking to any of the people she mentioned.

Especially Nickie—

The devil had heard her silent prayers and sent her a blue-eyed beauty that Liv felt like pretending didn’t exist.

But that was difficult to do considering she directly walked up to her.

Just breathe.

Smile.

Laugh.

The corners of her lips tilted upwards into a bright smile, a bubbly laugh forcing itself out of her chest and she gestured with a bandaged palm towards Nickie.

“Happy almost new year! You look super-dee-freaking gorgeous? Tell me your secret, Is your muse your bestest friend ever?” Liv said, doing everything and anything keeping eye-contact.

Her smile didn't falter, but there was a lump in her throat that Liv had a hard time swallowing away.

code by valen t.

 

[dear.szmm]

not so sure about this

niamh foster

Okay, so, Niamh’s holidays had been somewhat underwhelming. She wished she could say that this didn’t bother her – but it did. She’d filled her time with the usual rituals: sleep, swim, smoke; sleep, swim, smoke. She spent a couple of hours at the Mauy Thai gym and another few hanging out with June and Ollie…

Then came her date with Kian.

Privately, Niamh was completely stoked. Kian was as much a childhood crush as he was a childhood friend. She never acted on it – their friendship and innocence were worth more than a petty childhood fancy. After a while, he got with Oates, and at that point he became out of bounds. Oates was her best friend above anything, so that was that. It came at a time of reckonings for Niamh; her sexuality, for one. Needless to mention that Niamh occupied herself and got in all sorts of trouble elsewhere, at least for a while.

Now, slightly older and more emboldened, Niamh found herself in a similar predicament. Kian was here, at Hollywood Arts, and he was… so lovely, so familiar. He reminded her of happy times, and he was… well. He was hot.

To Niamh’s delight, their date was fantastic. Nobody could deny they didn’t click – they always had. He was a gentleman; she was giddy with excitement.

As the restaurant closed, their date came to an end. They stood on the sidewalk, a tension lingering in the air between them. Butterflies spread in her stomach as his lips approached hers.

It was clumsy. Their noses collided and Niamh wavered a little as she pushed up on her toes to meet his kiss. It wasn’t at all how Niamh had fantasised all those years ago.

And just like that, it was over. Kian said goodbye.

Not so much as a single message or call arrived since. She tried a few times, including after the date, but got nothing more than radio silence. Kian just… disappeared.

It fucking sucked.

*******​

“Are you sure about this?” Asked June from the seat beside her.

“No, but fuck it.” Niamh replied apprehensively, gazing through the window at the cars lining the driveway as they approached.

She really wasn’t up for it. She shared June’s uncertainty. They’d all be there: Oates, Callum, Damien, Kian. Niamh’s lucky charms. Fucking fantastic.

Inside, it wasn’t so bad. The girls held hands as they traversed through the house and to the kitchen. Niamh felt a sense of kinship and protection over her brunette companion; moreso than she had at the Winter Ball on their meeting. Their friendship had blossomed over the break as they spent more time with each other. Niamh trusted June. She was quiet, sensible, unproblematic. They were in it together – Niamh could confide herself in June, and June confided in her. They had bonded, as two people going through some shit do.

Niamh grabbed a bottle of tequila and two plastic shot glasses, pouring the gold liquid into each. She handed one to June and raised her own in a toast.

“Fuck it.” She shouted over a pounding bassline.

They knocked the shots back with a tilt, followed by a winced wipe of their mouths.

“I don’t know a single person here,” Niamh admitted, whispering close to June’s ear. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing. What about you, do you recognise anyone?”

• .
• .
• .

• outfit
• location

  
  

  nye party
• tags

  _em_ (June)
  Mentioned
  geminiy (Kian)
  v briefly mogy (Oates) hery (Callum) Winona (Damien)

coded by reveriee.

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Annoyed

OUTFIT: ur egirl dream ig

LOCATION: Still fucking home

basics

MENTIONS:
Lillian dear.szmm

tags

TL;DR Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

tl;dr

Rox

Okay, rude. Rox was just trying to show her that attention that she wanted. Whatever. She let go of Lillian and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ll clean it eventually.” It wasn’t even that bad. A little mess never killed anyone. And they could even share clothes. To be fair she didn’t know which one of them originally owned the bralette either.

“You’d look so cool in all black.” Yeah, yeah, the goth aesthetic isn’t for everyone, but Lillian could seriously pull it off. Maybe not pastel goth, but nu-goth? God she’d be sexy.

Then, the winning moment. Boobies! Wow, women were great. Truly an artform. Shit, they even looked good in the bralette. Oh wait, that was a question. Back to the real world.

Other plans? “Well, I’m going with you, aren’t I?” If she had other plans, she’d definitely be going with said other plans. “Seriously, are you still on this shit?” What was the big deal anyway? It wasn’t like she was coming home late like a husband in a movie. “Am I not allowed to have friends?” Seriously, Lillian got to hang out with Matt all the time, but the moment Rox spent a fucking hour with someone else it was all “you don’t spend time with me.”

“Or do you just not trust me?” Rox let her gaze drop to the floor, not wanting to look at Lillian anymore. “I thought you knew me better than that.” She’d had enough of this week-long bitch fit. “I get that you feel neglected, but I’ve literally been trying so hard this week, and you’ve still been being so dramatic.”

This was so not how she wanted to start the night. Rox pushed herself up, grabbing her phone and lipstick to put in her black, heart shaped purse, “All I wanted to do was have a nice night out with my girlfriend, but if you're going to be like this all night, I’ll just go by myself.” This was just great! Another fucking night ruined.

“I just don’t get it, am I not enough for you?” Rox was trying their hardest, so why was Lillian still acting like they were the fucking worst? She was done! Just so fucking done!

code by valen t.

 

[Harrowhark]

MOOD: Ew why do I feel like this

OUTFIT: Slutting it up

LOCATION: Bitch manor (kitchen)

basics

MENTIONS:
Rikki

INT:
Oates mogy

tags

TL;DR distract me please

tl;dr

Nikolai

Nikolai grinned upon seeing Oates flail around on the counter. Yeah, he was already drunk. Lucky him, Nikolai needed to catch up. In an instant, his arms were around them, and they had to lean to keep the drink from spilling. Oates' head only came up to her shoulder tonight, where he’d usually come up to her chin. “I missed you too, shorty.” That was the term of endearment right? Or was it shoty?

Then the guy started rattling off faster than Niki drove. Uh huh. They were totally registering these words. Nikolai grabbed for another cup, but froze the moment Oates mentioned the shot. Their eyes locked on the vodka shot as they slowly pulled their reach back. That hadn’t been for them. It was for…

“Well, I have to catch up, I don’t want to be left behind,” Nikolai did their best to hide the ache that gathered in their chest. All semester, they’d gotten so used to bringing Rikki to parties. It became a habit to grab him a shot first to keep him from starting a fight. Now it was sitting there, meant for her lips instead. Nikolai took a deep breath before knocking the shot back, face scrunching as the liquid burnt their throat.

“I think I’ll go your way.” Nikolai poured more vodka into the cup, way more than a shot this time, and followed it up with juice. “So, what have I missed? Anyone embarrassed themselves yet?” Someone was always too early to get shitfaced. It would help to get their mind off Rikki. Maybe she should try texting him again. The way he just acted like they didn’t exist after the dance made them feel… confused? No, it hurt worse than that. What had Nikolai done? Did they blackout and say something? There had to be a reason.

In another attempt to avoid feelings, Nikolai chugged the juice, almost spilling some down their chin. “You’re right, this one is better.” Less burn, but a hint of vodka flavor was still there. Another drink poured only to hit her lips a moment later. Not the whole thing this time, but just enough to start feeling the warmth rise to their face.

“You wanted to dance, right?” Nikolai couldn’t stand still any longer. They weren’t good at dancing at parties, in fact, the very thought terrified them. But this was Oates. He wouldn’t judge. “Come on, you won’t find anyone prettier to go with you.” Much better than being caught up on some so-called friend right now.

Who even cared about Rikki anyway? He was just their best friend who they had a really nice moment with at the dance. It meant nothing, clearly. So what was the problem? Exactly. Oates was nice, and more importantly, not ghosting them right now.

Nikolai finished their third drink, grabbing a sharpie to write their name on it before putting it down. That was stupid, you should never leave your cup unattended at a party, but fuck it. “Oates Oates, will you do me the great honor of shaking your ass with me on the dance floor?” They hardly made it through the sentence without laughing. The wording was a small pleasure, but a pleasure all the same.

code by valen t.

 

[Kitsune2202]

Dangerously Soft
Amethyst Jones

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their status to:
Just breathe

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their outfit to:
A night to remember

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their location to:
New years party

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Charlie, Josie, Remi, Ash

@If.U.Seek.Amy has interacted with:
Trevor ( ohdittoh )

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Talk about everything going to hell...What was her life and the life of her friends coming to in this place? She wasn't sure how or why things had started to spiral so drastically, but here they were. Their was nothing but pain and suffering around her, and she felt guilty for most of it even if it wasn't her fault. She felt guilty for having a sliver of happiness in Remi's company when all her friends were suffering so much.

Hell she even felt guilty for that because she knew how much Remi cared about her and wanted to be with her, yet here she was still hesitating. She knew she wanted to be with him, she'd decided that the night of the ball...so why hadn't she been able to tell him that yet? What was she waiting for? She kept telling herself the right moment, but she wasn't sure how true that was. She knew it needed to be tonight for sure. Somehow, someway she needed to build up the courage and just spit it out. He deserved that much and more from her.

That would have to wait till she saw him later tonight. Normally she'd have gone to the party with him, but tonight she opt'd to ride with Trevor. Her friends needed her more right now then anything because of course Trevor never took her advice to tell Charlie about him and Ash. The blow up was worse then she imagined it would be, but that's probably because of how it came to the light.

Drunk, high, endangering Josie, and after a break up was NOT the ideal way to go, but since when did things go ideally this year. This whole junior year has just been fuck up after fuck up it seemed. They get one good thing then a barrage of bad get's hurled their way. Sure they say make lemonade but even lemonade get sours, and too acidic to always drink.

Amy truly did feel for her best friend because she could see how much he cared for Ash...but it'd be a lie if she said she didn't see it coming. Secrets don't make for good relationships no matter the reason. So if it wasn't awkward being around ash before (hint hint it was!) it DEFINETLY was now. Luckily they didn't hang in the same circles, but being in the same department and year she saw her even if at a distance.

Amy's big problem was she wasn't sure what was her place or not. What should she tell what should she not. Who she should comfort and how because literally ALL of her roommates needed comfort the past week or so. Josie after the whole Lucky and Saint thing was still drinking herself into a stupor all the time...well more so then usual. Usually it was fun or seemed that way...now? Now it didn't look fun no matter how much she smiled.

Of course there was Charlie who was the most hurt of all from feeling betrayed by not being told about everything, about her cousin and Trevor being in danger from driving home high, AND having to pack up her things. Even though Remi had agreed to help pay for her tuition Amy knew Charlie wasn't going to accept that, especially not long term.

While Charlie had made her promise to wait till New Years to get involved, she really wished she'd kept her end of the promise to not give up. Starting to pack up and not accepting Remi's offer due to her pride seemed like it. She wished she'd broken her end of the deal too and just did what she does best and hacked into the system to figure out who really tampered with the files. But if she broke her word Amy wouldn't really be Amy, especially if it's to her best friend. She would always keep her word to them, even if it got her in a bit of hot water with Charlie since keeping her word to Trevor meant hurting her in a way. As much as she could argue it wasn't her place she knew it was wrong, and had no true justification for it. all she could do now was do everything she could to make things right. That includes keeping her promises.

Then there was Trevor who got his heart stomped all over. Being the logical person she was it was difficult to only comfort and not advise. He didn't need advice right now (not that he'd take it) he just needed a rock to lean on. Like he'd tried to be for her with the whole Dei thing. Sure they both sucked at it but she was going to try.

So here she was as usual before a party with him in his van because of course he was her ride, and because this felt like the only times they got to just sit and connect with each other. She knew she also would need to talk to Charlie at some point in the night if she decided to come out. She just wanted her to know she was still here for her even if things were rough.

"So? Got any resolutions?" She chimed a bit dryly trying to bring up a light mood.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey

@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Cheers to Us!

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Pretty-N-Pink

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
JJ/Adri/Chas Home

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Beth, Harllows, Jordan,

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph ( Winona )

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Nothing particularly excited had happened since winter Ball. It was a wonderful evening and lead into a pretty decent break. She was thankful to be away from school and classes for a bit, but to be fair saying it was a 'break' wasn't truly accurate. Stella never really had breaks, her mother made sure of it.

She was supposed to be starting to read for a new movie she'd landed a lead role in. Her FIRST ever mind you, and what made it even better was the fact it was supposed to be with one of her best friends. Great right? Nope! While a part of her could understand why, she still didn't like it. Landon dropped from the movie. She didn't know why, but she assumed it dealt with all the drama and bad publicity it was giving him. However she'd feel more empathy if he hadn't brought it on himself. Yes he was her friend, but he had been an idiot and was now paying the price. She was just angry that she was having to be affected because of his stupidity.

There was talk of opening up auditions, but she wasn't really in favor of that because that could be a lengthy process since not only would they have to be good, but it'd have to be someone she could have chemistry with on camera. Which she was a professional and would put her best foot forward even if they weren't her first choice...but she would prefer to have a choice.

Not to mention if it took too long that'd push back everything, and that could wind up with her being dubble booked for fliming this summer between the movie and the series she's already in. She could do it, but she didn't want to.

Why? Because Stella Bailey finally had something other then work to look forward to!

Yes, the one and only super sweet boyfriend, Zephyr Evermore.

Stella hated thinking of herself as one of the girls all wrapped up in a guy, but as always Zeph was different. He wasn't like other guys which is why he was her best friend, and so of course he'd be different as her boyfriend. She adored him and knowing they might have limited time left before he goes back home made their time even more precious to her. She wanted to spend as much time this summer as she could just enjoying being with him.

He'd gone home for a few days over the holiday to spend with family and she had too...even though her mother arranged for a family photoshoot...so as always Stella was still working. Still needing to be picture perfect.

Zeph was her only break from all that. The only sense she had a life outside of her career. Sure she had a few friends but Maddie and Dorian moved back to NY apparently, Landon was MIA probably laying low after all the drama which she understood...but still left her feeling lonely. Sure she still had Beth, and Jordan who she was appreciative of, but it didn't always feel like they were genuinely real friends. She knew Zeph without a shadow of a doubt was in her corner for better or for worse. Sometimes she wondered how deep their or anyone's loyalty truly ran. She convinced herself as long as she had one she was fine.

Tonight was going to be yet another great night. She could feel it! Zeph was back in town and their was another party tonight for New Years eve, so of course they were going to show up together. Their hands intertwined gave her sense of safety and security she rarely voiced.

She turned to look up at him after he spoke, "Dance with me?" She chimed confidently. She loved dancing with Zeph even if she wasn't at his level it was always exciting for that very reason.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: jelith

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: bitch manor

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a
INT:
mogy (Oates)
Harrowhark (Nikolai)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

"Passerby always stopped to tell her how beautiful she is. And she would just smile and hide her face..."

The photo was on the mantel, wedged in the middle of a snow globe and an origami lion from Callum's fourth-grade art class. Contrary to most of his childhood, Callum had been in the other room. Oates hadn't meant to pry, or at least he hardly had to.

Something that never changed was the way his grandparents' wrinkled eyes always managed to drift toward it, driven by a magnetic attraction. As much as Callum tended to instinctively stare through the picture frame, even he could admit how beautiful his mother was in her youth. She looked sickeningly innocent, untainted by the corruption of the world. It was like watching a car crash just moments before impact.

"He was a grade above her when they met." Intense disdain was evident in her retelling of events. It was no secret how much she and Callum's grandpa despised the troubled boy's father. "Whatever love they called it, he had her wrapped around his finger."

Callum's heart rose to his throat, walling off his lungs. He knew this story; in fact, it was all written in a court transcript somewhere. If the kitchen had a back door, he would have already slipped out. As far as the three of them knew, the languid boy could have simply been taking an extra long bathroom break.

"Callum doesn't like to talk about it. But sometimes, drugs make good people do bad things..."

Stop. Stop. Stop.

"My little girl... Carly."

Tears welled in the hunched, old woman's eyes. The name hardly sent more than a small shiver down her grandson's spine; he didn't know this person. Still, his eyes were squeezed shut and he faced the wall, willing his thoughts away. Somehow, soon enough, it worked. Before long, all of the voices became muffled, and the conversation ceased to exist in his head.

The rest of Callum's time home was perfect, more so than even the families in those lazy Hallmark Christmas specials his grandma left on every hour of the day. Too many times did Oates' gaze linger on his pale, aloof form, and the lanky dancer had to laugh softly and look down every time it happened. Every so often Callum would wonder what he was thinking about.

It was a lot of visible appreciation from all ends. Callum had nearly forgotten what it was like to be somewhere where having eyes on him was a good thing. Every time he smiled back, his cheeks burned red because he knew how out of character it must have been. Contrary to the assumptions of most, he actually enjoyed the holidays. His seasonal depression was more centered around every other week in the year.

But maybe New Year's wasn't his favorite. If a bunch of people need a drawn-out night of shouting and drinking to fully process the passage of time, then maybe they should just go out and buy a calendar.

Callum worried what Oates was doing all this time at the party without him. He was so susceptible to the fanfare of big social events and of all of the curly-haired boy's close friends, Callum couldn't name one he trusted to cap it at just a few drinks. This night was going to give him twelve new reasons to attend therapy.

It was a short walk down the street to the apartment, even with all of the extra effort of pushing past people crowding around the doors. He couldn't believe people had the balls to let so many strangers into their places, but it was even harder to believe that he was actually willingly stepping foot inside JJ Jamison's residence.

Oat was always easy to spot in a crowd, especially in a crowd of people dancing. Like a moth to a flame, Callum sauntered over toward his boyfriend, but halted just on the edge of the living room. From across the way, it was no question what the raven-haired boy was seeing: his boyfriend dancing, drunk, with his hands all over some sultry-looking douchebag.

This is why boyfriends shouldn't have friends!

Approaching the two from the side, he spoke with a firm voice that easily cut through the music. "Hey." His icy blue eyes moved from Oates and back to the person of similar stature to his own, offering no amount of pleasure toward what he just stumbled upon. "You look like you're having fun, O." There was a bitter amusement in his tone.

He was only a little jealous. Obviously Oates wasn't going to go and fool around with this clown. But they didn't know that.

"Did you save me a dance?" Giving a self-satisfied grin, he reached a hand out, waiting expectantly for his boyfriend to take it. Had he the energy for more conflict, he would have pushed himself between the pair.

Pretending the friend didn't exist was a decent compromise, though.

code by valen t.

 

[qunqun]

MOOD: Very disappointed

OUTFIT: Am I partying correctly?

LOCATION: Chas's place

basics

MENTIONS:
Chas

INT:
Grungy Gremlin Winona

tags

TL;DR ... Ew.

tl;dr

Katya

Was Katya a bit of a bootlicker? Yes.

Yes indeed she was.

She had no qualms with admitting it. She tended to butter people up if she needed to, but these little tiny inconveniences to her day were to just make life smoother. Life easier. Bend people to her will, if you would.

So, yeah.

She could be described as a “bootlicker.”

Still, all the trained poise of the universe couldn’t stop her from internally scrunching her nose a little bit at her host’s grungy little boyfriend.

Clairmont. Rich parents. One of three triplets. Weirdly obsessed with fire.

Essentially, the exact opposite of Chas - a child of actually somewhat important parents sorta, but also class president. And also the host of the party she was currently attending to have her small rebellions against her father outside of his control.

No, actually, he would not be very proud of her for attending an American house party unsupervised with underage drinking and loud music and more fucking on the couch than there was actual elbow rubbing.

But hey, small rebellions. It made her feel alive a little, more sweet than any kind of heroin, and after a couple of weeks back home where she had to be the complete and perfect heir once more, she realized how many minor little rebellions she’d been taking.

So, to celebrate her newly figured out careful weaving through a minefield freedom, here she was. At one of those… house parties with no actual benefit to her attendance.

Figures that she’d immediately get approached by probably the most antithetical person to her father’s wishes.

She looked at the boy up and down, trying to shield the judgment from her gaze as she looked him dead in the eyes after completing her once over.

Maybe a bit too antithetical.

“Hello. It’s going well.” She shifted the drink into her other hand to extend her right hand out in a handshake. The princess type. Formal as all hell. “Katya Pavlovych. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

Hopefully the chilly formalness of the tone would be enough for the boy to get the hint. From what she could tell, association with him meant a whole slew of bad things. Bad press. People just really really hated the boy, and it was somewhat deserved.

After all, he was kind of an idiot.

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

Adriane Holloway

Sure, Adriane was going to entertain that girl she'd spent like one night with or whatever, but out of the corner of her eye... she saw someone who would be much better to entertain. And really, Adriane was surprised that that annoying little bitch had even shown her face in Adriane's apartment.

Her lips curled back into a cruel smile, and she held a finger up in the direction of whatever her name was. "Hold that thought," Adriane stated, and then pushed her cup into the girl's hands. "I'll be right back." And without waiting for her a response from her companion, she glided away.

"Wow, what a surprise to see you here," Adriane started as she came to a stop beside Liv, her voice dripping with absolute sarcasm. "And without your little bitch following you? I mean..." she let out a soft, almost cruel, almost cold laugh. "Not that I can blame you. Did you get tired of holding her hair back while she throws up?"

Not that Adriane would necessarily blame her -- fucking Nickie was annoying as hell. That's why she'd dropped her as quickly as she could. Really, her ever considering Nickie to be a friend had been nothing short of a... well, a rather huge lapse in judgment. A reminder of why she didn't do charity work.

"Or is it rather because you don't want her to see you kissing Genevieve's bony ass?" An annoyed snort of laughter, another shake of her head as she stared down at the far shorter girl. "Not surprised that Gen seems to give you so much of her time. She's really into the disasters that aren't going to make it past eighteen, hmm?"

See now this was the kind of fun that Adriane had wanted tonight.

mood
ugh

location
her house, duh

outfit
clothes

playing...
Fuck You

by Lily Allen​

mentions
Gen, Nickie

interactions
Addie, Liv

tags
@Iskolde Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

Yeah, he was sure everyone was so fucking surprised to see that Damien was still fucking kick. Well, fuck you, because he was doing fucking great, and he didn't want to hear any kind of down shit. Sure, he might've hit a few lows, but he was coming up now on a super big fucking high because he had...

Whatever this shit was with Matt.

He didn't really get it, either. They'd fuck in a bathroom after Damien had gotten in a fight with that motherfucking walking rainbow motherfucker, and now they were... something. Friends that fucked or some shit. Damien didn't really know, but he'd be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy the time he spent with Matt.

And, well, Damien was a known liar.

They'd come to the party but instead of entering quite yet, the two of them were outside sharing a quick joint before heading in. Normally, Damien would've been all about this party bullshit. The pounding music vibrating in his soul, watching hot chicks in skimpy clothes shake their ass, doing shots with dumb assholes, and eventually fucking someone in whatever little bit of privacy they could find... god, that was his heaven.

But there was some kind of change in him or some shit that was stopping him in his tracks, causing Slater to find himself out here instead, standing next to Matt and passing a joint back and forth. And fuck, he didn't even really have that needy desire to go in and find the first willing hole for his dick.

It was peaceful.

Keyword: was.

Because then, an all too familiar mop of poorly bleached blonde hair and the bug-eyed dumbass attached to it came waddling over, undoubtedly for the joint that the two of them were passing back and forth.

“Hello dudes and gentlemen. Or whatever. Do you wanna share with the class?” Beel asked, as Damien took the joint back into his hand from Matt.

He took a hit, holding the smoke in his lungs.

“Damien, you look like shit.” The dumbass continued, before looking from Damien to Matt. “You look kinda cute.”

Slater blew the smoke out in Beel's direction, some weird feeling kind of bubbling up in his chest at the sudden attention to his fuck buddy. Lip pulled back in disgust, Damien dropped his hand to his side, joint still clenched in his fingers. The little blonde bitch would only get it if he pried it out of Damien's cold, dead fingers.

"Fuck off," he stated, voice deadpanned as he spoke.

mood
high

location
outside

outfit
clothes

playing...
DONTTRUSTME

by 3OH!3​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Matt, Beel

tags
jazzyball mogy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Mason Rivera

With Ariana cradled in his arms, they started walking towards the apartment complex, although Raven's steps seemed anything but hurried -- and Mason's were the same. There was something about... heading into an apartment complex in Los Angeles that felt like... this was the final step. He wanted to go in, he wanted to find a bed and just collapse and stretch out after spending hours cramped in that fucking van, but...

Something was slowing down his steps. Something was dragging him back, holding him away from taking this final step over the threshold that separated them from Westbrook. As if stepping over this would be the last move they'd need to make, and there'd be no going back past that.

After this, they'd be going to a school bursting out the seams with rich assholes, kids from around the world, the best of the best... but what placed them here?

They were nothing special.

“I never asked you why.”

Mason glanced towards Raven as she spoke, being pulled from his churning thoughts to look over at the girl. As she spoke, he allowed himself to come to a stop -- this was a welcome hitch in the plan to head inside, giving them a few more moments before they stepped into unfamiliar territory.

“Why you submitted my–”

"Your writing shit?" He finished off her sentence.

Right.

He knew why, but he'd never say it allowed.

He was sure Raven knew why, too.

“I guess I’m looking for an actual reason why I’m here, not just because I deserve to be here.”

Fuck.

Mason glanced in the direction of the apartment -- of where Noah, Drake, and Ian had disappeared into so easily, leaving him and Raven outside to have this difficult conversation. What the fuck was he supposed to say? He didn't fucking know -- fuck he didn't even know why he was here, let alone why she was, so what was he--

"I dunno, guess they liked your writing shit," Mason responded with a shrug of his shoulders as dark eyes turned back onto Raven's form in the moonlight and the street lamps. "I mean... there's not really any reason that any of us should fucking be here, I didn't even..." he trailed off.

He didn't want to finish that thought.

He didn't even what?

He didn't even try out. He didn't even have skill.

They'd said hey, you're kinda hot, want a fucking future?

Mason hadn't even said shit about Ariana -- he'd looked at the website, he'd done his research. This fucking school was very finnicky, and the one thing they really hated? Fucking... guys like him. Guys, people that had baggage, and would bring bad publicity to the school's front.

Which was why he'd had to keep his child a goddamn secret.

"Does it matter? You're here now."

mood
fucking exhausted

location
a van

outfit
flannel and jeans, duh

playing...
Fast Car

by Tracy Chapman​

mentions
The Van Gang probably

interactions
Raven

tags
Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

Now, obviously Zeph was a dancer, so it probably came as a surprise to know that he tended to ahh... well, he didn't have stage fright. Zeph could go out on the stage and perform like it was nothing. He had no issue with people watching him, but when it came to dancing in situations such as this, at parties or whatever...

Yeah, he tended to be a little more scared. A little bit more nervous. Maybe because there was no form, there was no routine. It was simply moving to the music, and sure, Zeph could do that, but there was still something about the freedom that just... really brought the boy down and made him a little more unsure of himself.

But hey, Stella had asked him, so he gave a nervous nod of his head, and he followed Stella out to where a good portion of the student population was currently poorly gyrating.

As they started to dance, Zeph letting the music kind of take him, he found himself glancing around to look for any familiar faces, but he didn't see any right off the bat -- except for maybe a Ronnie, where his gaze lingered a little longer than necessary, as he thought back to their awkward conversation that day he got attacked by Javi.

His gaze turned back down to Stella, though, a smile on his face.

This felt... right.

Right?

Right.

He should try to say something over the pounding music, though, or so Zeph thought, but he wasn't sure what to say. Like there was something that was kind of coming up between himself and Stella, making it more difficult for him to reach her. Not... that he could really figure out what the emotional blockage, or...

Nah, that was a dumb thought.

"Want to get something to drink?" He asked after a while.

mood
happy

location
party

outfit
clothes

playing...
Lost Boys

by Ocean Park Standoff​

mentions
Javi

interactions
Stella

tags
Kitsune2202

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