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

[ohdittoh]

• • LINDSAY KAY • •

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his status to:
boutta win this thing lmaoooo

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his outfit to:
daphne and im fuckin rockin it lmaooooooo

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his location to:
genny's place

@feelin_a_o_kay has mentioned:
n/a

@feelin_a_o_kay has interacted with:
zephy

@feelin_a_o_kay has tagged:
Winona

@feelin_a_o_kay has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Lin agrees to the bet and readies himself to fuckin' win.

halloween update:
When Zeph shook his hand, Lin’s smile grew wider, and he laughed mischievously. “Hell yeah,” he said happily, his eyes alight.

You see, Lin had the upper hand. Not only had Lin been betting for years and years and years, going all the way back to elementary school, but the thing was…

He’d never lost two bets in a row.

Zeph was going to lose twenty bucks, and Lin was going to emerge victorious.

That was the only thing that could happen. Option one of one, luhmao.

Duh.

He dropped his hand, making peace signs first, and then putting his hands atop one another and doing a wave move with his hands, giving a wiggle of the butt and doing octopus arms directly after. “So what’s it?” he asked Zeph. “What’s it I’m gonna win at?” He laughed happily, doing another little shimmy with his shoulders. He crossed his legs and spun around, shooting Zeph finger guns. “That’s what I meant to say, luhmao.”

(Exhibit seven-hundred of why Lin shouldn’t have this much sugar.)

Lin watched as Zeph poured out the marshmallows, and Lin scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively. “Pfft, that?” He crossed his arms, grinning at Zeph. “I could do that with my eyes closed in ten seconds or less.” He set his feet shoulder-width apart. “Get ready to say bye-bye, ta-ta, toodle-loo to your mon-nay, luhmaoooo,” he said assuredly.

He walked closer to the table, picking up one of the hard marshmallows and giving it a slight squeeze. These things tasted fucking amazing. Lin could handle all of these suckers and at least three or four more, he knew. Plus, he didn’t really have a gag reflex.

Luhmaooo, Lin really did have the upper hand here.

He gave Zeph a solid nod. “Deal—“ He shook his head quickly, and he popped out his hand. His grin widened as he looked up at Zeph with a ducked head. “Deaaaaal.” Lin shook his sucker of a bro's hand, and he gave a victorious “luhmaoooo” as he pulled his hand away. He gave a little fist pump of preemptive victory and a soft whoop.

Luhmaooooo, knowing that he was gonna win felt fuckin' great.

Like, he knew it the first time, too, and Lin never lost, but this was different.

Luhmao, it just felt fuckin' great.

He walked up to the table again, setting his feet shoulder-width apart and setting the peanut that he’d picked up back atop the pile of its fellow orange brethren. He was drooling at the sight of them, and the sugar and caffeine made him bounce his heels in anticipation. He set his hands a couple of inches above the pile, splayed out and ready to grab, and he looked over his shoulder at Zeph.

“Alright, Zephy,” he said, grinning, “gimme the countdown— and gimme it good, luhmaoooo.”

lmao catch you later
. Lin Kay . ​

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
.....

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor, Lucky

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
Eli, Jan

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
@gh0stwriter ohdittoh ​

Everything was so tense.

And the more it went on, the longer this was drawn out, the more Ash felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, and the more her head started swimming, and the dizzier she got. The more they jabbed at each other, the more Ash came to the conclusion that alcohol couldn't solve all problems, and the more she wanted to just fall to the ground and curl up and just disappear.

The little bit of water from the shot glass Trevor had given her did little to help the queasiness of her stomach, or the dizziness in her head, or -- now, -- the increased pounding of her heart.

She was hardly listening now to whatever their ridiculous banter was. Instead, she mostly kept her gaze focused on the counter, only glancing at Trevor every now and again. He'd started shifting closer to her and she wanted to reach out to him. She wanted to close the short distance between them and be able to lean against him, or pull him away from this situation, or apologize to him for everything that was happening because it was her fault.

If she'd just... walked past Lucky, ignored him, and went about her search for Trevor, then none of this would be happening. Her stomach wouldn't be twisted into knots, and her heart wouldn't be trying to beat out of her chest, and she wouldn't feel dizzy, and Trevor wouldn't be angry and hurt and upset and they could've just had a nice night.

“And what did you say about me?”

No, wait, what?

Now, her eyes shot up from the counter to look at Lucky. Oh there was no way he was going to--

"Sweet..."

Her jaw dropped.

“...dateable…and what was that last one?”

Trevor was right. He was a fucking prick.

Her fingers dug deeper into the counter until her knuckles started to turn white. The arm that had been pressed over her stomach moved up so that her hand could press over her face, covering her expression from view from a moment as Lucky uttered the last one -- "hot -- and then her hand moved up, getting tangled in her hair for a moment.

She let out a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes still closed, until Trevor started to talk.

Ash's eyes opened and she looked up towards him as her hand fell back to her side.

He was trying... so... hard to keep it together.

Until, well, he couldn't. Until he was storming out of the kitchen.

"Trevor..." she tried to call him after him, but her voice was small, weak, and didn't carry any weight. It was nothing and, even if the kitchen hadn't been full of other people chatting away, there was no way he would've ever heard her.

Ash pushed away from the counter to go after him, but she stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. She turned towards Lucky, shaking her head and biting into her lip as she did.

"Look, I don't know what little feud you two having go on and I don't really care, but you do not get to use me as ammunition to hurt him." Ash snapped. Even if their relationship was a secret, it wasn't a secret to anyone at this point that he had some feelings for her.

"That was a low fucking blow and you know it." She continued as she pointed at herself. "I am not something you get to use as a weapon against Trevor or anyone else. If you're going to try and piss him off, at least be creative and come up with something yourself and don't use shit that I've said. At least he," she pointed her hand in the direction that Trevor had disappeared to, "didn't drag me into this petty fucking feud that you two have going on."

Ash turned to go after Trevor, but she stopped after a couple steps and looked back at Lucky again.

"And I've said that same shit about half the guys in this school -- you're not special."

On that note, Ash spun on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen in search of Trevor who, obviously, she had lost sight of. And being as short as she was meant that there was no way she'd be able to see anyone's faces or scan the crowd for anyone that looked remotely like Trevor. Which meant that trying to--

Wait.

This was Trevor she was looking for.

And she might not know a lot about Trevor, but she did know enough to know that he wouldn't be in the crowd. Trevor, like, hated most people and she knew the one way that he handled stress when it didn't involve, well, alcohol or... sleeping with girls (and she was crossing her fingers and hoping that he wasn't doing that option).

Weed.

He had to be outside smoking a stupid, disgusting, bad smelling blunt.

With a new destination in mind, Ash pushed through the crowd until she got to the front door. She stepped outside into the cool night air, her arms crossing over her chest and hugging her sweatshirt tighter against her thin frame. Ash peeked around the front yard, but she didn't see anyone that remotely looked like Trevor.

Her heart skipped a beat for a moment, her breath catching in her throat, as the brief possibility of Trevor maybe just... leaving crossed her mind, but she glanced out at the array of parked cars until her gaze settled on a van painted to look like a cheap version of the Mystery Machine. Her lungs released in a relieved exhale.

Alright, so... front yard... no.

Backyard.

Ash slipped back through the front door and ahead slid her way through the crowd, mumbling apologies here and there when she would bump into someone, and giving smiles and little waves and little hello's to anyone that she recognized as she made her way to the backyard. She opened the door and started to peek out, but stopped when she saw Eli and Jan.

Woops.

She quickly shut the door and leaned back against it.

Okay, what the hell?

No Trevor.

She paused for a moment there, leaned back against the door, trying to catch her breath. Ash tried to think through where else Trevor could be, but her mind was too muddled by what had just happened, and the alcohol that she had ingested, to think clearly. She ran a hand through her hair again, her eyes falling closed, as a deep, shuddering breath escaped her pale lips.

Deep breaths.

Just... breathe.

Deep.

Breaths.

Her hand fell away and her eyes opened again.

Ash had no idea where to even start to look again, and now she'd left the last of her alcohol in the kitchen, but Lucky was there so there was no way that Ash could go back there to retrieve it. And like, yeah, sure, she didn't need more alcohol but maybe she wanted more alcohol, which meant...

Trip to her bedroom. Easy.

She headed for the staircase. As she walked, she still kept an eye out for Trevor but didn't catch sight of him anywhere.

Ash started down the hallway. The closer she got to the bedroom, the less crowded the hallway got. It was nice to finally be in a part of the house that the party hadn't really shifted to, except for the person that she caught standing out on the bal--

Wait.

She quickly backpedaled, heading back to the balcony and peered through the door. A relieved smile cracked across her face before faltering when she remembered the reason he was up here.

For a moment, she considered walking away. Chances were, he didn't want to even see her or talk to her and if she stepped out there, he'd probably just... like... yell at her and storm off.

Ash wouldn't blame him if he did, anyway.

She closed her hand around the doorknob, taking in one last deep breath, and then turned the handle and stepped out onto the balcony. Ash pulled the door closed with a soft click after her.

"Hey," she said quietly as she walked forward and leaned against the railing near him. For now, Ash kept some distance between them -- again, expecting Trevor to yell or leave or whatever it might be.

Ash looked down at the grass, her teeth digging into her bottom lip for a moment, before she turned her gaze upwards to look at the stars. The stars were a lot more relaxing than boring grass.

"I'm... sorry." She murmured. "Are you okay?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

TREVOR CALLAGHAN

@trev_or_nah has set his status to:
I either think too much or none at all. (In other words, cue my pretentious, rambling narration.)

@trev_or_nah has set his outfit to:
The things I do for my roommates...They'd better be glad that I'm not a serial killer, as everyone seems to assert, or they'd be out o' luck.

@trev_or_nah has set his location to:
The Johannes mansion. Alone, obviously, because I don't have anyone to go with and my roommates don't count. Where else? Since when have I ever missed a place that I could smoke and get some?
I know I have a girlfriend. Listen, I gotta keep my act up, if nothing else. I've got a reputation to uphold, even if I can't uphold it in anything beyond my location. Shut up.

@trev_or_nah has mentioned:
That guy

@trev_or_nah has interacted with:
Her

@trev_or_nah has tagged:
Winona @gh0stwriter

@trev_or_nah has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Trevor stands on the balcony, and he says a remarkable one line when she comes.

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Trevor couldn’t’ve counted the number of people on the lawn below, even if he had wanted to. They were blurs with double outlines, moving about in some weird fashion that his inhibited mind could not perceive; he couldn’t tell if they were lost or if they knew where they were going, and, in all honesty, he couldn’t tell if they were really even people at all.

For a moment, he wished that he was down there. He didn’t mean down there down there; standing about all of those people in the state that he was in was, most likely, far from a good idea. His volatile emotions and his preexisting irritation, courtesy of someone whose name he would rather not have remembered at this moment as well as the alcohol that had only just recently left his hands, lent itself to a certain burning anger that prompted him to say certain seething things that would, most likely, cause certain prickish people lose their shite on him. There were plenty of pricks in this school who would break his arm again in a heartbeat.

No, by down there, he meant the down there that he perceived, in his drunkenness. The down there that was nothing but indiscernible blurs, without names or features or emotions or aims. Blurs that existed in the moment and could be gone the next; things with words that didn’t matter from one second to the next, things that knew no consequences, things that knew no anger. Things that had no understanding, but also had no non-understanding. He wanted to be down there among them, to somehow dissolve himself into that plasmatic state, and to only be able to see this frustratingly corporeal world when he looked up to the balcony.

He had been told that he got poetic when he was drunken, and it could be argued that was part of his charm that was seemingly only existent when he was under the influence. However, it was amplified by the fact that he’d let himself get out of hand.

He hadn’t expected to drain…he didn’t know how many cups of pure alcohol. The night had started with mixed drinks, but then, he’d switched to the straight liquor, and it was there that everything became unsure. He could guess…three? Maybe three was too much.

Then had come him drinking straight from the bottle, and who knew how many cups worth that was; it was enough to nearly drain the bottle— though, granted, it wasn’t terribly full to begin with.

He ran his left hand along the concrete of the railing, rubbing his fingers in small circles so that he could feel the roughness beneath his fingers and sighing softly. He leaned his weight on his right elbow, hunkering over slightly, and he remained silent as he watched the blurs swim beneath him, melding into one another the closer that they got, until he couldn’t discern one from the other.

Now that he had had a moment to cool down, Trevor was entirely unsure what had happened back there. It wasn’t like he wanted to think about it either, but his mind tended to wander, and now, he found himself at that great precipice of putridity that was his bitter jealousy.

He didn’t want to jump off of that precipice, or even touch the liquid boundary of it; just thinking of the fact that that guy thought that it was okay to do and say what he had done and said made Trevor’s headache rise again, and there wasn’t enough weed in the world that could suppress this one— though he was willing to test that theory. Had Jo not smoked what he had stashed and had he brought any along, he might not have even had to worry about any of this.

He looked out at the blurs, his jaw clenching.

Sweet…

Dateable…

“Fucking prick,” he muttered.

Fucking prick.

Trevor was dating Ash. Regardless of how secret this was, it was the truth.

It was a secret, he reminded himself.

Psh, right. It was a secret.

She’d told Eli, and that was it, and he had told nobody.

What the hell had she done to do anything? She’d told Eli— she’d broken their promise already— but she couldn’t break her promise to spare him? That was a lot to ask, and he didn’t want her to break her promises anyway, but—

Did she not care enough to stop this madness— to at least get Lucky off of his dick— and to keep Lucky from humping her leg like a chihuahua? Whose idea was it for them to be secret again? Whose life was that benefitting? Who was ignoring what was right beneath her nose?

His girlfriend.

His girlfriend.

His—

Fuck.

Wasn’t that the end of it? That was all of it.

She was supposed to be his girlfriend. As weird as that still felt to him, it was true— it was true, and she ignored it. She ignored it and carried life on as usual and lied to him and ignored what he said and acted like he said things only for his benefit and that he was just some kind of chump to be used to fill some kind of void in some kind of something when he was worth so much more than that.

He didn’t fucking own her, but he was entitled to her— to her respect. To her…to her just not acting like he didn’t exist— to her respecting what they had agreed upon. To her agreeing with him when he was obviously right and to her not going along with whatever the hell that was just because she perceived someone as her friend and therefore as more valuable than his sanity.

To her understanding.

To her…

Fine. He was entitled to her. Whatever. Take his words however you would, but in the end, he was right.

She was wrong.

He heard a soft click behind him that didn’t register until a few moments after it had happened, and when it did register, he tensed up, continuing to stare out at the blurs.

He had an inkling of who it was, and he would have spun around and shouted “get away” had he not been so preoccupied with his blur-staring.

“Hey,” he heard her said quietly.

He never thought that he wouldn’t want to hear her voice, but people were proven wrong constantly.

He made no motions to react, and he didn’t glance over at her as she came to rest beside him. He didn’t know how close she was to him— he couldn’t even see in his periphery— but he could feel that it was too close.

Any amount of closeness was too close.

He had come out here to be alone— to cool down, to get away.

And she had come along.

"I'm...sorry,” came her voice quietly. "Are you okay?"

Okay? Was he okay? Why was she asking this— the answer was obvious.

He had just been told by some random arsehole who seemed to have it out for him that he, her boyfriend, knew less about her than he, the dickhead, did. He hadn’t said it aloud, but every single— every single feckin’ move and every single feckin’ word was infused with that motivation— the motivation that the douchebag had of proving himself superior to Trevor in every way possible— and for what Trevor didn’t know, and for why Trevor didn’t know, and this just kept going without ceasing and going without ceasing and on and on and on, as if that guy’s sole purpose in life was to drive him mad— and Trevor wanted to stop and turn away, but if he just— but he couldn’t help but feckin’— but fuckin’—

And she wanted to ask if he was okay.

She had the fucking audacity to ask if he was okay, after she watched this go on— after he told her what was going on and she had brushed him off over and over and over again.

He dropped his left hand from the balcony, shifting his elbow into its place in order to support his weight better, and he let out a long sigh.

The blurs beneath him moved about in their patterns that he didn’t have the brain capacity to think about. His head throbbed, and he wondered what the point of being drunk was if his headaches didn’t even go away— what the point of being drunk to this point if he couldn’t even forget correctly.

She was his girlfriend, though, if his secret one, and…

He couldn’t just ignore her.

After a long moment, he mumbled, “Yeah. I’m fine.”

That was all that he said, in a slurred, serious voice, and he made no gestures to show that he was going to say anything more.

Instead, the typically verbose boy stared out at the blurs, and, mentally, he chose which one he would like to be.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
sick makeup, bro

@queenofhell has set their outfit to:
literally look at the gif

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Saint

@queenofhell has mentioned:
Jules

@queenofhell has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

Saint Taylor... not a name that Ava could say she recognized, but that was more due to the fact that unless people had a direct impact -- and typically a direct negative impact -- on a certain brunette cheerleader, Ava didn't bother to learn about them. As far as issues that any of her meager few other friends might have with people, Ava really didn't care. They could handle their own issues without Ava having to voice her typically cynical opinion.

Jules was different.

"Ditched," she replied, her tone turning bitter as she mentioned it. "As much as I love Halloween," -- again, one of her favorite holidays -- "I don't enjoy spending it in places like this by getting drunk, high, or a mixture of both. It's just a recipe for disaster. Nothing good ever comes of parties. Like that Homecoming party that ended with Chas" (rightfully) "losing a tooth. I don't intend to be the next person losing a tooth because my choice of words didn't sit well with an inebriated teenager."

Her idea of fun on Halloween clearly had more to do with like those Halloween themed parks -- with all of the Haunted House, and everyone walking around in spooky costumes. And yet instead, here she was, miserably leaned against a wall with some guy with half-assed zombie cat costume while Jules was parading around with this week's newest flavor of fuck boy.

Did she know if Dorian was actually a fuck boy? Not at all. However, Ava was one to jump to conclusions -- but only if those conclusions aided her proposed version of the person. Dorian could've been the kind of guy to solve world hunger or bring world peace and Ava would've overlooked all of that for any single mistake that supported the image of him being a fucking tool that was imprinted in her brain.

"I should've known it was coming, though," she said with an annoyed huff. "JJ always ditches me for some guy when we come to these things. I'm only here for when he inevitably breaks her heart. I do the holding of her and the comforting and then ask if she wants me to go kick him in the dick." Yep. That was Ava.

The backup.

Hurrah....

"What about you?" Ava asked, spinning the question back on him. "You don't seem much like the party type, either."

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

"waste of my time..."
saint taylor

@sainttay has set his status to:
Being totally transparent...

@sainttay has set his outfit to:
Simple...

@sainttay has set his location to:
The party...

@sainttay has mentioned:
Naomi and Jo...

@sainttay has interacted with:
Ava...

@sainttay has tagged:
Winona

@sainttay has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Saint talks with Ava.

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With his cup now empty, Saint had a disappointing inability to occupy his lips with anything whilst he listened to Ava speak. Thus, he settled for stimulating his eyes, studying the members of the crowd that he’d previously ignored.

Many people were wearing very little more than underwear, and he couldn’t claim that he didn’t enjoy this visual. There were several boys with the bare chests exposed and glowing in the soft light from overhead, and there were several girls with their chests nearly exposed.

He now wished that he had gone shirtless as well. At least then he wouldn’t’ve had his white shirt ruined by his blood. Besides, he had enough tattoos to draw the attention away from his bloodied nose— not that he was particularly embarrassed about the blood dried beneath his nose.

“Hm,” Saint said, setting his cup on the table beside himself and staring at it for a moment to be sure that it didn’t topple before looking at Ava and crossing his arms. As rude as it may have seemed to others to not express sympathy for being “ditched” or making any move to do so, Saint thought that it was even ruder to express any sympathy that he didn’t feel. It wasn’t that Saint cared about being rude, either; he just didn’t want to waste his breath on words that would be misunderstood. He simply didn’t understand what was so bad about leaving your friends in pursuit of whatever you wanted to do. There were several times at parties when Dei had left him to go and get a girl for the night, and there were several times when Saint had left Dei in search of a boy or a girl that would occupy his time as well. If you were really close with your friend, you seemed to reach this agreement. It was presumptuous to assume that Ava and JJ weren’t really friends from this fact, though, so he kept his mouth entirely shut on the matter.

“I’m not one much for crowds,” Saint said in his low, stoic drone. “If I want to get high or drunk, I could do it alone in my room just as well as I could do it here, without all of the social interference.” Social interference such as the punch that had caused his nose to bleed and had soiled his white shirt and the petty insults from his ex. “I haven’t gotten out a ton since...”

He let himself trail off, his eyes moving to the glass door to the balcony, and his eyes found a figure that sent a wave of hot, bitter anger through him.

Naomi.

His irritation flicked through his eyes, but he quickly dismissed it, his expression resuming its usual stoicism.

He was over it; no one else could be over it if he wasn’t, and so he was, because he didn’t care of anyone else, and especially not Jo.

“I had a breakup,” he said nonchalantly, trying and failing to pull his eyes from Naomi. His worked his jaw, sighing softly though his clogged nose. “My ex likes to slander my name or whatever, and as little as I care, I’d much rather sit at home working on my sculptures than waste my time being...ridiculed.” He sighed softly. “I’ve been over the breakup since it happened, in all honesty, but everyone seems to be caught up in it, so I’ve not gotten out much.”

That was what it boiled down to: he could claim that he had stayed in to sculpt, but if he was honest with himself, he stayed in to avoid having to deal with this situation that he had done nothing wrong in and yet was derided for.

“I guess that I came here simply because I think it would be nice to change my pace,” he concluded. His eyes were still focused on Naomi’s figure, his eyes narrowed. “I...don’t do much at parties beyond drink and smoke, anyway, and observe the fights and the pulling of teeth.” He paused a moment, breaking his gaze from the girl to look at Ava. “Parties are good for passive observation.”

He looked back at Naomi, unable to keep his eyes away despite the burning that it caused.

Passive observation...

As if that was what had caused the cosmic fallout he called a breakup.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Nathan Woods
"Here I am, living a dream that I can't hold on my own."

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has set their status to:
itchy and not simping

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has set their outfit to:
sick Bonnie & Clyde thing

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has interacted with:
Evie

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has mentioned:
Gen, Eli, Mike

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has tagged:
@jasmichelle​

In the middle of getting his makeup done (that's basically what it was, right?), Eli came into the room. He turned his head to look at the other boy, one eyebrow raised in question, but he was walking out just as fast. Nate gave a little shake of his head and looked back towards Evie but kept his gaze solidly fixated to the ceiling.

Lovely white. What shade was that? Eggshell? Maybe more of a... whisper or antique white... perhaps porcelain, that was a nice shade...

Thinking about the particular shade of white that Gen's ceiling was happened to calm Nate far more than the weed had or the brief sip of alcohol that he'd had.

And it wasn't just calming from the Nic situation that Nate needed. It was the closeness of Evie to him. The calming of jumbled feelings that were at the forefront of his brain, of questioning whether he was crazy and letting everyone's opinions on them get to him, or if he legitimately felt something for the girl before him.

Look, Nate was shifting back and forth nearly on the hour.

But what Nate did know was that he was never this aware of anyone sitting this close to him.

Maybe it's just a natural white.

Evie released him from her makeup-ing and they were getting ready to head back out to the party, to the actual thing that they'd come here for, and Nate was more than happy to be able to exit the room that he was currently alone with Evie in. Not that he had anything against being alone with Evie (obviously), but just the fact that it felt as if there was...

More to it now than just two friends.

That there was some hidden subtext that had been visible to everyone else but invisible to them.

The door opened back up and in walked Gen followed by a confused, worried Eli. Nate's gaze followed as she stomped around the room, yelling this and that about Mike (and yeah, he knew his friend was a dick, but that's clearly why they were friends -- dicks stick together), until she was storming out just as fast with Eli trailing after her.

Great start to the night.

He looked back at Evie as she took the bottle of tequila, taking a drink straight from the bottle, and a grin cracked across his face. "So, straight from the bottle -- no shots, no mixed drinks kind of night?" He asked with a chuckle in a weak, weak attempt to try and lighten the already heavy mood. The night had barely started and yet, Nate was ready for it to end.

Nate sighed, pushing himself up from the bed. He took the bottle from Evie, bringing it up to his lips and taking a long drink. Nate didn't pull the bottle away until he felt like his throat was on fire, which was followed by a face and a small cough as the gentle smile returned to his lips as he looked down at Evie.

Tonight was going to be great.

"Do you want to go check on Gen first?" Nate asked as he stepped towards Gen's bedroom door and pulled it open, holding it for Evie to walk through before following after her.

To be fair, he'd be lying if he didn't say he was a little worried about Gen. The whole... Liv thing was... it had been something, to say the least, and Nate could understand the rage that Gen was feeling. Well, maybe not understand it, but sympathize with it. However, it also wasn't his place to go find her and try to comfort her. Gen and Nate were friends, sure, but were they the kind of friends that would comfort each other in times like this, or were they just hangout in fun times buddies?

Nate was pretty sure it was the latter.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zephyr Evermore
"Cheer up! 'Cause nothing really matters."

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
bro, you lost

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
N/A

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

"Alright," Zeph said.

"Three..."

Lin's confidence in what Zeph had truly thought was a nearly impossible challenge made him nervous.

"Two..."

Twenty dollars was now on the line and of course Zeph would pay up, but he really didn't want to. Because this was about more than just the money now -- although he supposed it had always been about more than just the money.

"One..."

Now, it was about which one of them was right. The bet master or the bet apprentice.

"Go!"

His finger slipped -- no, really, it did -- and he didn't click start on the timer right at the same time that Lin started shoving his mouth full of peanut-shaped marshmallows. Clearly, this was something that could happen to anyone and would need to be dealt with using proper bet regulations.

It quickly became apparent, however, that Zeph had clearly underestimated Lin's competitive nature and the size of his mouth. If Zeph wasn't getting some kind of benefit from Lin losing, he would've been in awe of Lin's ability to shove his mouth full of the candy. It was something to be admired, however now was not the time for admiring.

Now was the time to beg for some kind of miracle that would cause Lin to inhale wrong and cause a marshmallow to go down his throat and cause him to choke and spit out the marshmallows now in his mouth that were puffing out his cheeks like those of a chipmunk. Now was the time for Lin to slip up and fail, maybe drop a marshmallow and let Mitsubishi take one that would cause the bet to be made obsolete.

Instead, Lin actually did it.

As the last marshmallow was shoved into his mouth, Zeph pressed the stop on his phone and, reluctantly, at the time.

Fourteen seconds.

Drats.

"Not right." Zeph started speaking as Lin did whatever it was he chose to do in order to dispose of the mouthful of now spit-soaked candy. "My finger slipped and I didn't start the timer at the right time. Proper bet rule states that we add an extra second due to that, which means you lose." He explained, completely making up proper bet law in order to benefit himself.

Zeph turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket, his arms crossing over his chest with a shrug.

"Sorry, that bet doesn't count."

He was not giving up his twenty dollars, by gosh.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
haw to the yee

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
Looks like we've got another mystery on our hands!

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the johannes mansion

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
Lin, Amy, Trevor, Josie

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Cowboyyyyyyy

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
sunshineysoul

Charlie watched Lin bound away with a wide grin on her face, likely going to cause havoc elsewhere in the house in the company of Zeph, leaving her alone in the crowding foyer. For some reason, Charlie couldn’t wipe the smile off her lips even as she was alone, the toe of her boot gently scuffing the ground as she playfully kicked her leg out as her hands found the pockets of her jeans.

To say that Charlie had felt like a different person since the Fall Fair would be an understatement. Since September, so many shitty things had happened that Charlie had begun to write off her junior year as completely fubar. Between all the drama with Chas and the whole Ash and Trevor blind date thing and the worrying about nearly all of her friends, Charlie had resigned to the fact that nothing good was going to come of junior year. But then the fair happened, bringing her some sort of unexpected joy in the form of her absolute riot of her now boyfriend. Things didn’t entirely feel different with them, their jokes and playfulness translating into a relationship fluently, but there was something about the entire situation that had just put Charlie in a good mood for the entire week.

Filling the time was a difficult task for Charlie. She went and got herself a drink and then wandered around the house aimlessly, stopping to say hello to a few people she recognized as she went. It had occurred to her that she really hadn’t made plans to hang out with anyone specific, leaving her to her own devices. Charlie was considering going to bug Amy when in came Cole, walking through the doors like a vigilante into a saloon. Okay, maybe he wasn’t that cool looking, but the whole Woody costume really drove the whole ‘cowboy’ thing home in her mind.

She hadn’t been spotted yet. Perfect.

A devious smirk tugged at Charlie’s lips as she planned her angle of attack, creeping around the corner so that she was hidden from Cole who had decided to lean up against the wall. She waited for a moment, peaking around the corner as she moved in. Launching herself into the air, Charlie clung onto Cole’s shoulders as her legs went around his sides, maneuvering herself so that she was clinging to Cole’s back like an oversized knapsack.

“Haw yee, Cowboy.” Charlie giggled, pulling Cole’s hat right off of his head and putting it on her own, tipping it in a southern gentlemanly greeting as she continued to anchor herself to Cole with her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. “Seems like there’s a new bronco in this here saloon with a snake in his there boot!”

Hopping down off of Cole’s back, Charlie moved around to the front of him, grinning up at her friend as she rested her hand on his shoulder.

“How’s it goin, Cowboy?” Charlie asked, her tone of voice getting more calmed but her smile never faltering. She wanted to ask about his mom, about Dani, but she decided to let it rest. There would be time for the serious conversation later. “You ready to paaaaartay?”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
.....

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

The moment the words left her mouth, Ash knew that it wasn't the correct thing to say. Are you okay had to be the dumbest phrase in the English language, the dumbest question. You only asked it when you wanted the answer to be "yeah" so you didn't have to keep pressing or hear about issues you didn't care about it.

It wasn't something you asked when you knew the answer. It wasn't what you asked when you wanted to keep pressing and you wanted to hear about the issue at hand.

But she knew the answer, right?

Maybe Ash just really didn't want to think about it.

He answered the same thing that everyone answered when asked that dumb question -- "yeah, I'm fine" -- even if it was clearly not the correct answer. Even if it was clearly nothing but a lie.

She didn't respond.

Looking up at the stars usually calmed her down. It gave her something to focus on. It gave her something to study and try to find the different constellations, but right now, with her head swimming and her stomach churning, it just added to her dizziness and the feeling that she was about to retch over the edge of the railing onto the people milling about below.

Ash turned her gaze down to look at those little people, but that just served to make her head swim even more when she realized how far up they were, and her stomach twisted and flipped again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the edge of the railing for a moment, until her stomach had settled, and then she turned away and leaned her back against it so that she didn't have to look down or up or anywhere but at the smooth concrete of the balcony beneath her feet. Her head stil lfelt dizzy, but at least she didn't feel like she was going to retch.

... As much.

"You're not." She finally said. Her words shattered the fragile silence between them.

Ash glanced over at him and considered reaching out to him, but she knew that wouldn't end well. So instead, she just pushed away from the railing and walked across to the side of the house. She leaned her back heavily against the wall and sank to the ground, pulling her legs up close to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled one hand away from her legs to press against her stomach. It hurt. Ash was going to be sick like, she could feel it coming, but she squeezed her eyes shut and rested her chin on top of her knees and tried to just breathe and keep any kind of twisting of her stomach down.

"I'm sorry." She repeated as if that simple phrase could piece everything back together and make things tentatively normal between them again.

Fuck.

She didn't know what else to say, but he wasn't talking, and she couldn't stand silence. Well, scratch that -- Ash could handle comfortable, normal silence, but she couldn't handle whatever this tense silence was. The kind of silence that made it feel like she was walking on thin ice. The kind of silence that made it feel as if every time she inhaled, she was breathing in tiny shards of glass that got stuck in her throat. The kind of silence that made it hard for her to breathe.

Her breathing started coming in small, shuddering gasps.

Ash's lips parted to speak, to apologize again, to come up with some apology, but nothing came out.

She lifted her head from her knees and brought both of her hands up, pressing her palms against her eyes to try and stop the tears that she could feel pricking at the edge of her vision.

Her head hurt. She was dizzy. Her stomach hurt. She wanted to go back to an hour ago when she was still with Eli and everything was fine.

"I'm... sorry..."

Deep. Breaths.

"Do you want me to leave?" Her voice wavered. Her hands fell away from her face, instead wrapping back around her legs. Her vision was blurry, so she squeezed her eyes shut.

She... needed... something.

Ash was used to...

Yelling, screaming, anger.

Not this.

She hated this.

She didn't know how to handle this.

"Are we... are you..." she choked on her words. She blinked open her eyes, focusing on the concrete just in front of her. Ash reached up with one sleeve and rubbed angrily at her eyes. "Are we breaking up?"

It was a...

She just.

She needed something.

The silence was killing her. It was pressing in around her, smothering her, and she... she couldn't fucking breathe. Her lungs hurt. Everything hurt. The alcohol had done nothing to numb her thoughts, her feelings, and instead felt as if it had just amplified everything. It all felt ten times worse. Ten times louder. Ten times more painful.

Right now, Ash decided, would be the time for her to curl in on herself and stop existing. To stop the torment of right here and right now and so she wouldn't have to face her mistakes.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

• • LINDSAY KAY • •

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his status to:
cmonnnn you know you wannaaaaaaa

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his outfit to:
daphne and im fuckin rockin it lmaooooooo

@feelin_a_o_kay has set his location to:
gennys place

@feelin_a_o_kay has mentioned:
n/a

@feelin_a_o_kay has interacted with:
zephy

@feelin_a_o_kay has tagged:
Winona

@feelin_a_o_kay has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Lin wins the bet— he told you that he would— but proposes another bet when Zeph won't admit that he lost.

halloween update:
Lin’s eyes shot back to the peanuts beneath his hands as soon as Zeph uttered, “Three…”

He ran through his plan in his head at several thousand miles an hour: snatch, shove, snatch, shove, snatch, shove.

Gogogogogogogogogogogo, Zephyyyyy, speed up the counting, luhmaooooooo.

He bounced on his heels, eyes scanning the outlines of the peanuts.

“Two…”

Wow, he was going slow. 


“Speedier, speeedier," he mumbled beneath his breath, grinning to himself.

He had twenty bucks to win, luhmao. C’mon, time was a-wasting, tick-tick-ticking!

“One…”

Lin’s body tensed up, his fingers itching for the peanuts and his mouth drooling.

“C’monc’monc’monc’—“

“Go!”

Lin’s body took over from his mind— which wasn’t saying much, luhmao— and he opened his mouth wide and began to stuff the orange peanuts in his mouth, both of his hands traveling up and down in blurs of motion as the pile of peanuts disappeared from the table.

No thoughts, head empty— only peanutpeanutpeanutpeanutpeanutI’mgonnawinthisshitI’mgonnawinthisshitI’mgonnawinthisshit bounced around his skull as he forced the peanuts into his mouth like his ass into the hose he had on.

When he was done, he threw two fits in the air, whooping through his stuffed mouth in a muffled “ooooooooooo”, and he did his best to grin at Zeph as he tried to clench his jaw around the marshmallows. He squinted his eyes, squishing his brows together as he tested the truth strength of his jaw muscles, and, through a lot of effort (and through a lot of looking like a cat about to vomit to Zeph, luhmao), Lin’s teeth connected through all of the layers of peanuts, and from there, it was smooth sailing for chewing. Now, swallowing was a bit more difficult, since the sheer amount of peanuts had meant that it was touching the back of his throat, but all it took was a whole lot of shifting of his tongue, and, after a solid minute, he’d swallowed all of the contents of his mouth—

And then he realized what Zeph said, and his brow’s knit in shock, his eyes growing wide and mouth propping open in offense. “Hwha?” he asked, and then he shook his head dismissively, grinning. “No, bro, bro, bro, the rules are the rules— the rules are the rules.” He walked over to Zeph. “You did the countdown, and there is nothing in betiquette that says that IIIIIII’m at fault for your slipping finger, bro, so, luhmao—“ He gave Zeph a solid couple of pats on the back and a wide grin. “Does tooooo count, bro.” He held out his hand. “Payyyy up—“

Lin lowered his head, looking up at Zeph as his eyes glinted mischievously again.

Lin knew that he’d won the last bet— ‘cuz duh, but also ‘cuz duuuuh— but there was something in him that said that it was too easy— c’mon, it was honestly just Lin eating food how he normally would, anyway.

“— or, we could do another round, and winner takes it all, huh?” Lin asked. “My choice, though, and you gotta participate.” He laughed happily. “If you really thought you won the last one, bro, then this one should be a piece of cake, you know— ‘cuz you lost that one, but I’ll concede that you won it if you win at this one— and you’ll get all of the victory— and you’ll get to keep your money.”

Lin only bet I’ll admit you won when he knew that he would win—

Which meant that he had a particular bet in mind—

Which meant that it was most likely not a good idea whatsoever.

"C'mon, c'mon—"

He went in for the kill with his next line, grinning:

"— unless you're pussy."

lmao catch you later
. Lin Kay . ​

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

TREVOR CALLAGHAN

@trev_or_nah has set his status to:
I suck.

@trev_or_nah has set his outfit to:
The things I do for my roommates...They'd better be glad that I'm not a serial killer, as everyone seems to assert, or they'd be out o' luck.

@trev_or_nah has set his location to:
The Johannes mansion. Alone, obviously, because I don't have anyone to go with and my roommates don't count. Where else? Since when have I ever missed a place that I could smoke and get some?
I know I have a girlfriend. Listen, I gotta keep my act up, if nothing else. I've got a reputation to uphold, even if I can't uphold it in anything beyond my location. Shut up.

@trev_or_nah has mentioned:
That guy

@trev_or_nah has interacted with:
Ash

@trev_or_nah has tagged:
Winona

@trev_or_nah has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Trevor stands on the balcony, hears Ash crying, and (REMARKABLY) says five lines.

✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐

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✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐

✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑

✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎

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✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐

✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑

✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎

✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑✑

✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐✎✐

Maybe Trevor hadn’t drank enough; maybe that was his problem.

His world was still too clear. The blurriness wasn't blurry enough, his unsteadiness wasn't unsteady enough.

He was still thinking— he was still cognizant of what had happened and what was happening.

The problem of her, her, her and him, him, him still stared him unwaveringly in the face, trying to get him to look at it, to say that it was real, to blow up and to give up and to shut her down and to storm away— to do what he always did and give up and run away.

He shifted his jaw, peering down at the intangible figures below with his cold, brown eyes. He drew in a long, slow breath, drawing and drawing in to fill the silence that something was obviously supposed to move in until his lungs cried out in pain, and he held the painful breath as long as he could, until the corners of his vision grew black and he was forced to slowly release his air lest he pass out.

During this time, he didn’t think, and he tried to pretend that he was out here alone.

It worked well for a few moments: Trevor’s throbbing brain’s incessant knocking against his skull faded into a dull ache, and his teeth unclenched; his brows raised to their neutral positions, and he nearly forgot where he was and what had happened.

For a moment, he was a blur— a nothing that got nowhere from nowhere, and a nothing that had to worry about nothing at all.

Then, she spoke, in her voice that he swore was going to cause his ears to bleed: “You’re not.”

And he tensed up again, drawn back into the present, his head’s throbbing growing into pounding, and his heart rate quickened.

He wanted quiet— he wanted the silence, no matter how feckin’ uncomfortable it was for her; this wasn’t about her, even if she was the source of this problem.

He wanted to be alone. He wanted a moment to cool down, away from everyone— and away from this girl who he had to claim was no one, too.

He felt eyes on him, and he knew that she was wanting him to look back at her. He made no motion to look at her— no sign that he cared about her presence at all.

He didn’t want to talk; maybe if he was quiet long enough, she would go away.

He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take her, he couldn’t take this, he couldn’t…

He couldn’t.

He heard her footsteps retreat, and he felt some of the tension in his body release as he awaited the opening of the door.

At least he would be alone now.

He let out a long, slow breath, ears pricked, even in his dazedness, as he listened for the click of a shutting door.

Instead, he just heard soft sounds of motion.

The muscles in his shoulderblades tightened, and Trevor’s jaw clenched again.

He needed time alone.

Alone.

The gaze he cast at the blurs below wasn’t a glare; instead, his emotions remained hidden behind his neutral face.

Go away, he demanded inwardly.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words were small, but he could still hear it.

He didn’t look back at her— he wasn’t going to let her buy his sympathy.

She was sorry? She should have been.

At the end of the day, she’d let that shit continue.

Trevor remained silent and unmoving.

The soft gasping coming from her sent a pang through his chest, and he had a moment of concern in which he lifted up from the railing, moving from resting his elbows on it to his palms. The lights to either side of the glass doors caused his lanky figure to cast a stripe of a shadow on the balcony.

Was she…crying?

Fuck, was she crying?

His brain gave a heavy, iron-fisted slam against his skull, and he flinched, looking back out at the blurriness below.

What the hell was he supposed to do…?

She was hurting, and it hurt him, and his head was hurting, and he was mad at her, and she was…

Crying.

He couldn’t deal with crying people— when Charlie and Jo and Amy cried, he just got them a box of tissues and sat and listened to them, but he couldn’t do that right now— she wasn’t talking, and he—

He felt his heart palpitate in his chest.

“I’m sorry…,” she said again, but the words felt unfamiliar, as if he’d never hear them before. “Do you want to leave?” Her voice was wavering.

He…

Yeah, he wanted to answer, I want to be alone— that’s why I came out here in the first place, but that wasn’t what he said if he didn’t want her to cry, so he remained silent, feeling the concrete beneath his palms and doing his best to ignore the fact that she had asked any questions at all, or that she was crying, or that she wasn’t crying, or that he wasn’t alone at all.

His pounding head and the gasping breaths behind him refused to let him rest.

"Are we…”

Her words were quiet, choked.

He didn’t want to hear her talk.

He didn’t want to hear anything that she had to say.

He needed to be alone.

Alone.

Go away. Shut up.

She was crying.

It was hurting his head.

He didn’t want to look at her.

He didn’t want to—

“Are you..."

He didn’t want to look at her.

Didn’t.

Want to.

There was another pause, but in this one, he didn’t rest— didn’t relax— didn’t forget anything.

"Are we breaking up?"

His words took him so aback that he couldn’t help but turn on his heel and stare at her in confusion, his body rigid and his expression dumbfounded.

What—

Was she really asking that?

Really?

His heart was beating in his chest— out of his chest— and his head was throbbing out of his skull, and he couldn’t think or—

“No.”

His answer was firm and hadn’t passed through his mind to get the okay before it had come out of his mouth. His brows had knit involuntarily as the words had left his mouth, and when he realized that he’d said what he had said, he released a long, tense breath, bringing his hand up to his temple.

His head hurt. His head hurt, his head hurt, his head hurt, his head hurt.

He released a long breath.

He needed to be alone right now.

He didn’t need this right now.

Right now, she was wrong, he was right—

He didn’t need to think otherwise.

And her crying was making him think otherwise.

“No, we aren’t breakin’ up,” he said, his voice firm. “We aren’t breakin’ up, or anythin’—“ His voice cracked, and he sighed softly. He looked down at his feet, his head throbbing. “We’re not doin’ anythin’ of the sort.”

Damn it…

He wasn’t supposed to feel bad. She was wrong, he was right—

She was crying, and all that he was doing was…

“Don’t cry.”

His tone came out harsh, demanding, and he went to try again, sighing softly. “I mean…”

She was crying— what was he doing?

Nothing.

Nothing but staring— nothing but having his head up his arse and thinking about everything that she’d done wrong while she cried.

For a second, he stood there, unsure of what to do— unsure of how to start.

He moved his feet slowly, lifting his eyes to her hunkered figure.

Something in him crushed, and his head throbbed, and he didn’t know what the hell to do.

He lowered himself to kneel before her.

And he looked her in the eyes.

And all that he could muster, when he saw the tears in them, were two, stunned, slurred, serious words— two, stunned, slurred, serious words that he very rarely ever said:

“I’m sorry.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Queen's without Kings are historically better"
Naomi Elizondo

@MiniMimi has set their status to:
just relax, don't let things blow your high

@MiniMimi has set their outfit to:
Werewolf rawr

@MiniMimi has set their location to:
Halloween party

@MiniMimi has mentioned:
Alex, Saint, Jo, Ava

@MiniMini has mentioned:
No tags yet~

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After what felt like an eternity Naomi finally decided she couldn't take this poor excuse for a boy's attempt at flirting. Letting a sultry smirk curl onto her lip she leaned in towards him swearing she could see his heart jump from his chest as her free hand grabbed his chin to look her in the eyes, "Hey, you know what would really get me in a good mood?" She purred leaning up to whisper in his ears, "If some amazing guy would go grab me a Malta. I'd do anything for a sip right now." But then she backed away with a sigh. "But who'd really drive to the store and get me one?" pouting a bit before taking another hit. "Guess I'll just stay in a foul mood." She shrugged.

Just like that the guy was practically tripping over himself promising to bring it back for her. She sent him off with a wave knowing damn well the chances of him finding some Malta at any store nearby was slim to none. She knew she'd tried herself because while it was the perfect excuse to get the guy far far away from her...it was actually one of her favorite drinks, so she knew which places carried it.

She probably shouldn't admit it but she was a bit impatient, and after messaging Alex was really excited to see her tonight. She'd told her where to find her, but maybe she got caught up? That and the rumble of her stomach pushed her to shuffle her way into the house in search of delicious snacks and an outta this world gorgeous buzz lightyear. She found her way to the snack table and filled a plate full of chips, cheeses, tiny meat slices, and fruit. She severely hoped actually food was making an appearance, or else she'd need to do a food run herself. Or convince someone to take her since she had no ride.

Munching away of course a certain someone caught her eye. It didn't help she could practically feel his eyes burning into her skin. He was talking to Ava so she wasn't sure why his eyes were on her. They hadn't spoken since his girlfriend...well ex girlfriend, went off on them both at a party about a month ago or so. Apparently when your boyfriend is welcome to advances to other girls it's the girls fault. It was dumb Naomi got enough attention to not need to be desperate enough to try and "steal" someone's man. But here she was labeled the bad guy by BOTH of them the audacity really. Point was she didn't wanna look or talk to him either. She was pretty indifferent to the whole thing now and didn't hate either of them despite knowing the feeling wasn't mutual. She wasn't about to lose sleep over their problems. Tonight would be no different, if he wanted to spend the night still holding a grudge over a mistake he made then so be it that had nothing to do with her.

She tossed a few more chips in her mouth at the thought. Plus she looked pretty damn good tonight so if he wanted to stare so be it. Enjoy the view from a far cause she wouldn't ever make that same mistake twice. If anything she felt for Ava, what if he was his next scapegoat? What if she was offended that despite talking to her his attention was on another girl? Then again Ava might just know her track record and put two and two together and not care.

Her thoughts were quickly snapped when she finally caught sight of Alex. Suddenly it was Saint who? Just as quickly as the smile formed it faltered. Who was that around Alex? The girls weren't too familiar other then recognizing that one of them was from the plastic department. What she liked pretty girls, and where better to look for pretty hook-ups? Now Alex was a happy coincidence, she wasn't...god was it a crime to have a type? Not important! What was important is they all looked real...friendly? Was this what was taking her so long to meet up with her? She probably shouldn't have assumed Alex would come find her right away, after all she actually has friends. Still...why did she feel this strange lump in the pit of her stomach? She wanted to walk over there and wrap her arm around Alex's waist with a huge grin...but that wasn't right. Alex had every right to do what she wanted. If she'd rather hang out with those girls then her fine.

She propped herself against a wall nearby so she could see her, but not so close to catch her attention hopefully.

Nope not even two seconds later their eyes met. Ugh! Nothing ever goes as planned. This was stupid, what was she supposed to do? Nothing, yup nothing. It wasn't her job to intervene on her having a good time. She pressed her lips into a tight smile and tried to cover it up immediately with tossing more food in her mouth and glancing off. She was trying to look like she didn't care, but no so dickish like she didn't care at all about Alex, just enough to convince her she was fine and not clearly jealous, cause come on you can't be jealous of someone you aren't dating. That's a thing right? It's a fine line for sure, and Naomi was really hoping she'd walked it. Otherwise this was going to be a long embarrassing night. She was Naomi fucking Elizondo not some simping weak green eyed monster.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
sick makeup, bro

@queenofhell has set their outfit to:
literally look at the gif

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Saint

@queenofhell has mentioned:
Jules, Alex, Naomi

@queenofhell has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

Ava was briefly interested when Saint first mentioned that he didn't go out as much -- hey, she might not have been one of those people that sat around gossiping day in and day out and who acted as if they needed drama as badly as they needed oxygen to live, but.... Well, she was still bored and she was still a teenager. Little tidbits of drama here and there were still interesting to hear every now and again and it sometimes gave you a better look into a person.

However, he said breakup and Ava started to zone out again.

She got enough breakup talk with Jules and her constant menagerie of boy toys that were rolling in and out of her life faster than JJ's tops could go out of style.

Was that a good comparison? The hairspray was really getting to her.

Still, she should at least pretend to feign interest. Even if she now felt her eyelids growing heavy and knew she was just minutes away from nodding off to sleep as she heard about oh boohoo this and oh what a bitch that and oh whatever shall I do and blah blah blah. The point being that Ava didn't want to stand around and listen to some guy she didn't know lament about his broken heart and how he was a victim or whatever the fuck it might be.

She'd rather pull out her own teeth without anesthesia. Take a hammer and just smash all of her fingers, one by one. Bang her head into a wall until she star--

Okay, okay, you get it. She'd rather be doing anything than this, but here she was.

"Oh," her tone was a little too perky to sound truly interested and she cleared her throat and tried again -- this time with the same level of enthusiasm (okay, way less enthusiasm) that she had given their previous, very interesting cult talk. "Sorry to hear about your breakup. Who did you..." Ava trailed off as her gaze followed Saint's.

Naomi?

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion, her lip twitching up to add to said confusion. Both her and Naomi were in the literature department and, while Ava mostly kept to herself and spoke to very few of the lit kids (save for Mor and Minnie), she still knew of Naomi and they were... acquaintances, at the very least. Maybe casual friends.

"Was it Naomi?" She had to ask.

Because if it was, well...

Naomi didn't have the greatest reputation.

So she could understand why Saint and her would've broken up. But if they had been dating, she was surprised that she never would've heard about it. Even in passing around the department, or here or there, and then her thoughts drifted back to Alex... who had a crush on this very girl... and now, if Naomi was the one that had captured Saint's interest...

Well, then Ava's interest was suddenly piqued.

She didn't even hear the passive observation comment. Her gaze was momentarily locked onto Naomi but she realized how weird it would be if Naomi caught both of them staring, so she shifted her eyes back to something else. Ah, yes, the lovely decorations. Very good job that Gen had done, that one.

Ava would have to compliment her later.

But first, prying into the private life of Saint "Nosebleed" Taylor to make sure Alex wouldn't get her heart shattered.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zephyr Evermore
"Cheer up! 'Cause nothing really matters."

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
bro, you lost

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
N/A

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

It was amazing, really, that Lin had somehow managed to chew all of those marshmallows in his mouth. Also a little gross. Actually, really gross. It was also a miracle that he didn't choke, but all of that awe and amazement and disgust was wiped away and replaced by stubbornly refusing to concede to Lin insisting he won the moment the other boy opened his mouth to start speaking.

Had he won?

Yes, basically.

Was Zeph willing to admit that?

Nope, not really.

Plus, Lin had definitely lost the first one so letting him have double or nothing because he happened to be lucky on the second thanks to Zeph going easy on him with the bet and his thumb slipping and everything would've just been a dumb idea. No, he had to make sure that Lin had earned the money out of his sweating wallet fair and square.

As fairest and squarest as Zeph could get, of course.

“— or, we could do another round, and winner takes it all, huh?”

This, Zeph decided, was a tempting proposition. He narrowed his eyes at Lin, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he listened to the offer, quietly debating and rolling it over in his head.

“My choice, though, and you gotta participate.”

Because that was the part that worried him.

Zeph was the kind of guy that had been coloring inside the lines with the proper crayons since he was little -- and by proper crayons, he meant like always coloring his dogs brown or black and his cats orange or gray and never striding from the normal, expected manner of things. Blues or greens for the animals in his coloring book? Come on, now. That was way too wild for the mellow, reserved giant that was one Zephyr Evermore who was more predictable than your elderly neighbor's Sunday routine (you know, the church-goers -- the ones that would go to church at this set time, sit in that same pew, and then go to lunch at the same restaurant and order the same meal as they sat in the same booth -- yeah, those were the ones that Zeph was more predictable than).

Betiquette was new to him. Most of the experiences that he was having this very night were new to him -- well, okay, that wasn't correct. He'd obviously eaten candy and hung out with bros before, but the betting part. The pulling his new friend down from the banister part. Those were the ones that were new to him.

He rolled it over in his head with the pros and the cons listed in his mind.

He was thinking hard--

"C'mon, c'mon— unless you're pussy."

Maybe, Zeph thought in that moment, he was too predictable and he overthought things a little too much. Maybe, he found himself debating, he should just give in and do without thinking.

That was what Lin did, after all, and look how happy he was! He had a great life full of fun, he had a hot girlfriend, he had a cool dog. And this was all done with that mindset of think first, consequences later. What a life to live that would be! And it wasn't like he'd have to apply that mindset to the entirety of his existence or anything, of course, but maybe...

Just maybe...

Tonight he could just... do without thinking.

So, Zeph cracked a grin.

"Alright, you're on. Best two of three, yeah?" The third bet of the night, the deciding bet of the night, the bet that would dictate who would receive twenty dollars and what not.

"So, what's the bet?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
.....

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

At least she didn't have to worry about losing him -- they weren't breaking up, good -- and now he was actually looking at her, but Ash wished he wasn't. She wished that he would turn back around because not looking at his face made this easier. Not looking at his face somehow lessened her guilt (albeit barely). With him now facing her, the wave of guilt crashed over her and dragged her under again until her lungs were struggling to breathe.

And she didn't want him seeing her like this -- that was what it really was. She didn't want him looking at her when she was curled in on herself like this and unable to breathe with unwelcomed tears staining her cheeks and shuddering gasps and shaking hands. Now, she wished that she had just left, so that she could have broken down somewhere alone and then composed herself in the bathroom like she had so many times before. It was... easy... when she was alone.

It was a mistake coming out here.

He was still mad, but he wasn't yelling, and the puzzle pieces weren't fitting together so Ash could see the whole picture. There were still gaps and holes and a couple of the pieces had fallen and probably been swept up and tossed away so she would never have some kind of answer, but without some kind of answer, she wouldn't know what to do, and if she didn't know what to do, then she couldn't fix what she had fucked up, because she had fucked up, and if she couldn't do that, if she couldn't do that...

Her lungs constricted.

“Don’t cry.” He said, but his words were harsh, pointed, and jabbed into her like daggers slicing into her skin.

She flinched, wincing, and brought her sleeve back up to rub at her eyes. "I'm not," she mumbled, even if the evidence pointed otherwise. Even if there was no lying, even if her trying to say that she wasn't couldn't get her out of this situation, because she couldn't cover it up. She wasn't breaking down alone, somewhere that she could splash cold water on her face to take away the redness in her eyes and the puffiness of her cheeks and clear away the tear stains, because she was an idiot and she hadn't just... she hadn't just walked away like she probably should've, like Trevor probably had wanted her to.

Instead, she had come out here because she couldn't handle anyone being mad at her. She couldn't handle it and she had to have answers and she had to figure it out and she had to settle it or else it would just eat away at her.

Well, it would eat away at her either way, but at least if she faced it right away, it could eat away at her and Ash could mostly ignore it... or at least until it grew so out of hand that there was no choice but to face it.

He started moving towards her and Ash leveled her gaze at the concrete in front of her. She pulled her legs closer to her. She wrapped her arms tightly around her stomach and waited, breath held, to see what he was doing. The door was right next to her, so she mostly expected him to just... do that... just... walk out.

Leave.

Ash wouldn't blame him. She'd want to walk away from her after seeing her like this, too, and after what she had done... she would've walked right out that door without a second glance back.

But he didn't.

Instead, he knelt down in front of her and Ash, hesitantly, let her eyes drift up to meet his and her heart pounded and the breath she'd been subconsciously holding came out in a shuddering exhale. She waited, eyes searching his face in the seconds that felt like minutes, like hours, like absolute freaking days, she waited.

She waited for him to...

Yell? Cuss her out? Call her a bitch, a whore?

All of the above?

But he didn't and his words echoed her own repeated phrase of the night.

"I'm sorry."

She broke eye contact with him. Ash lowered her head, squeezing her eyes shut, and hugging herself tighter. She felt like she might be shaking, but she really didn't know if she was. She felt like she wasn't breathing, but she was pretty sure that she was.

His apology was like salt in the wound, because it wasn't deserved. It wasn't deserved and it wasn't what she expected to hear and it wasn't what she knew how to react to. It was... all... so much more. It was all so much... so... bad, because this part of the puzzle was also missing because she couldn't figure out why Trevor would say that.

Her head stayed down, her eyes stayed close.

She couldn't look at him because it hurt because he was apologizing for nothing because she was an idiot.

"Stop," she mumbled. "Don't."

It was all she could manage to utter at first, even if the two simple words didn't make sense without context. She couldn't breathe, though, and her words were jumbled up on the tip of her tongue and trying to keep going -- trying to explain anything right away would just leave both of them even more confused or even more angry and that would just lend itself to the inevitable blowup. To the inevitable, unavoidable point where Trevor would have enough and start yelling.

She was waiting for it.

"Don't apologize," she echoed her previous statement but at least added some depth this time. "It's not... you didn't... don't. I'm sorry."

Her words were just devolving farther and farther into something that Ash hardly understood. Muddled words and muddled phrases spoken in a wavering, unsure voice that hindered on the edge of cracking completely.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

"waste of my time..."
saint taylor

@sainttay has set his status to:
Honesty...it’s one of my virtues...

@sainttay has set his outfit to:
Simple...

@sainttay has set his location to:
The party...

@sainttay has mentioned:
Naomi and Jo...

@sainttay has interacted with:
Ava...

@sainttay has tagged:
Winona

@sainttay has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Saint talks with Ava, dissing Naomi to her.

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Saint’s eyes darted away from Naomi when he caught her looking at him, and he sighed softly and shifted his weight on his feet. The portrait in oils suddenly looked very interesting again; oh, as did the poorly-crafted, hardly-distinguishable bat decorations.

He sighed softly though his nose, shaking his head slightly to dismiss Ava’s sorry. “No need to apologize for my breakup. Sympathy after the fact doesn’t do much for anyone, and...besides, it isn’t like it really did much to me...it’s just made it a bit difficult to get out, but I’m not one to complain...”

He paused a moment, observing the sparkly, black bats as his upper lip pulled slightly upward. He didn’t like to think about Naomi, or Jo, or anything regarding his breakup or whatever words you chose to use to describe it.

“Was it Naomi?”

Ava’s question nearly prompted a laugh from him, and Saint gave an amused huff of air from his nose and looked over at the questioner. “No, it wasn’t Naomi…I’d never consider a whore like that as dating material…” He had not meant this offensively, of course; he was just being forthright with his opinions. His stoic expression was tinged with an odd mix of irritation and humor. “She’s the one who…” Who Jo caught me with. “Well, she’s the reason that my last relationship ended so sourly.”

His eyes flicked to Naomi again, then quickly moved away as he tried to ignore the bitter wave that washed his body.

“She broke my ex-girlfriend and I up. She put me in a situation that I didn’t want to be in, and...” He sighed softly though his nose. “It’s because of her that my ex and I aren’t together anymore.”

He knew that this was a mild lie, but it wasn’t that much of one. Saint had, after all, been in a relationship that would have continued had Naomi and he not been caught together. When it came down to it, healthy or not, the relationship with Jo was built to last.

Why?

Because he ca...

That wasn’t important right now, actually. The point was, Naomi was the cause of their breakup— or, at least the cause of the fight that caused the breakup— and so Saint wasn’t exactly lying when he said what he had.

In the end, regardless of what Saint had done and what moves he had made, Naomi had went along it, and, regardless of how much further things would have gone, Naomi was still going along with it. If she hadn’t gone along with it, then Saint couldn’t say that he and Jo would be separated. Even if he enjoyed it in the moment— and even if he couldn’t say that he regretted starting with Naomi, or that he even regretted his moves to this date— he could say, without a doubt, that it was mostly her fault that he and his ex had fallen out.

“Needless to say,” he said, looking back at Ava, “I’ve lost all of my respect of her...and that’s what there is to it...”

The way he trailed off made it obvious that that wasn’t all that there was to it, but Saint simply went quiet again, his eyes shifting to the oil painting as he tried to discern how long the artist had taken to paint that particular piece.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

• • LINDSAY KAY • •

@justlindsayin has set his status to:
lmaoooo zephy isnt gonna stand a chance

@justlindsayin has set his outfit to:
daphne and im fuckin rockin it lmaooooooo

@justlindsayin has set his location to:
gennys place

@justlindsayin has mentioned:
n/a

@justlindsayin has interacted with:
zephy

@justlindsayin has tagged:
Winona

@justlindsayin has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Lin takes Zeph to the top of the stairs, where he preps to begin the bet.

halloween update:
Zeph was quick to crumble under the heavy, loaded insinuation that, if he didn’t agree to this bet, he was a pussy— which was the worst thing to possibly be, if ya didn’t know— and Lin pumped his fist and laughed a little heh heh of victory. Even the most powerful betsters (the formal title for those masters of bets such as Lindsay Kay himself) could hardly make a stand against the fatal blow that was the threat of becoming a pussy if they didn’t agree to a certain bet, and Zeph was a total betting newbie— a bewbie, luhmao.

A grin cracked across Lin’s face. Hehe…bewbie, luhmaoooo.

“Suh-weet, luhmaooo!” Lin cheered. “Fuckin’ tight— alright.” He wiggled his fingers as he brought his hands to his cheeks, and he drummed the pads of his fingertips on his cheekbones. “Huhm, huhm, huhm, huhm,” he vocalized, as if he were thinking, though the grin overtaking his face said otherwise.

Pop quiz: which of the following was this bet going to be?

A. Dangerous

B. Dumb

C. All of the above

He reached out and grabbed Zeph’s wrist, grinning up at his bro, and then, after a second of looking at Zeph, the body picked up two bottles of soda, tucked them into his arm, and dashed off into the crowd, tugging Zeph behind him and laughing mischievously, like a tom cat who was setting a trap for a bird.

Of course, Lin opted for taking the direct path to his and the bewbie’s destination, so he barreled right through the crowd of people, pushing with his shoulders and laughing when people glared at him, keeping his eyes set forward as his dog followed at his feet excitedly. “Shoulder check!” he whispered as he drove his shoulder into an unfamiliar short boy’s shoulder, and he moved just slow enough to hear him cry “dude!” as his drink fell to the ground. Lin laughed devilishly and kept pushing forward.

Lin began to pull Zeph up the stairs, laughing happily as he ascended the stairs two-by-two— and sometimes three-by-three— with bounding, wide footsteps, laughing giddily and grinning widely. “Bewbieeee, you’re gonna eat your words, admit that I won-nun-nun-nun-nun everything tonight, and then-nun-nun-nun-nun, you’re gonna pull out the ol’ twen-teaaaa and give it to meee, heheheee, luhmaooo,” he said, words excited past his slightly ragged breathing that had come from all of that pushing, his tongue adding extra syllables where he would have typed a few extra letters had he been texting.

He came to a stop at the top of the stairs, letting go of Zeph’s wrists and hopping on one leg. He planted his feet suddenly, setting his face and dragging two fingers across both of his cheeks to mime putting on war paint before grinning widely and looking at Zeph. He bounced on his heels. “Oh, are you ready ready ready, Zephy?” he asked, laughing. “I don’t think you’re ready ready ready ready— are you?” He wiggled his butt. “‘Cuz you’re aboutta be like ‘oh, shit, I can’t do that’— but you’re gonna have to ‘cuz you already agreed to it, and there’s one rule in the betting world that’s there aaaaaaaalways. You know what it is?”

He leaned up and put his elbow around Zeph’s neck, tugging him down so he could be right beside his head, and Lin beckoned Zeph to lend him his ear with a crooked, bouncing finger, biting his lip. He leaned closer and cupped his hand to Zeph’s ear, as if he was about to divulge a deep, well-kept, ancient secret:

“Zephy, you are new to bets, and I know you don’t know it yet, but you and me, we’re a betting team, and you can’t quit once you co-mmet.”

Ah, a Linrick. So deep, so poetic, and so Linny.

He pulled away, bursting out with laughter at his own joke and calling “luhmao!” as he took his hand away from Zeph to pull one of the sodas from beneath his arm. “Purp-pee-lee or oranguh-luh?” he asked, holding one bottle out in each hand and offering no explanation. When Zeph had made his pick, Lin turned around and gave his butt a quick wiggle, laughing, and then tromped up to the bannister and causally hiked his leg up to sit straddling it. He patted in front of himself, grinning at Zeph. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, come and join me, luhmaoooo.”

If you guessed that this bet was going to be number C on the quiz from before, congrats! You didn’t win anything, but it’s the thought that counts.

lmao catch you later
. Lin Kay . ​

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: ok bitch whatever

OUTFIT: maid costume

LOCATION: the johannes mansion

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
@mogy (Oates)
@Soap (Liv)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

Silence.

Callum frowned after being ignored by Liv, curious what on her phone had absorbed her attention so easily, but not curious enough to pry further. The tall (but no longer the tallest thanks to Oates) boy lamely slipped a handful of candy into her pillow case, evading eye contact with the girl. Little was said between Callum and the two he came with as they made their way to Gen's place. As usual, he was lost in thought, thinking about Oates instead of actually talking to him.

Callum retreated into himself even further once they reached the party, keeping his head lowered while he occasionally adjusted his uncomfortably tight maid costume. He must have been staring at his feet for a while, because when he looked up, Liv was out of sight. Too bad, but Callum hoped she'd at least find a little peace that night.

To his side, Callum was not at all surprised to find Oates already getting into the groove of the party. He grimaced; Oates' vivaciousness never failed to drain his energy, perhaps almost as much as the blaring pop-remix-whatever that was forcing its way into his earholes. Callum could swear even his eardrums were tired.

Callum must have looked like a dead, rotting tree compared to the vibrant, spirited autumn maple that was Oates. Or, rather, like a storm cloud hovering over Oates' cheeriness.

Conversely, maybe Callum was invisible (which he tended to be) next to Oates, who never failed to suck up the love and attention of everyone he met. Callum liked it better this way, fading into the shadows, but the part of him that knew he shouldn't be so boring and pitiful never failed to guilt him over it. Parties had a way of keeping Callum on-edge, since blending into a crowd never meant at least one person's eyes weren't on you at all times. It would be highly improbable to remain unseen for any amount of time with the dozens of teenagers Callum could see within feet of him and his friend alone.

Being truly alone? Far away from others? That was more up Callum's alley.

The pensive boy tensed when he felt Oates' breath on his ear, only to release his muscles when it was just some boring heads up. Callum had learned not to trust Oates' voice in his ear anyway, especially after he whispered a line from a Sesame Street song while they were lying in bed.

"Rome?" he spat with disgust, rolling his eyes, "Doesn't he have other friends?" He opted to raise his voice instead of whisper in Oates' ear with no regard for who may hear him. Not that anyone did much listening to him anyway. "We haven't hung out in like a week, man. Come on."

"Just come back quick, would you?" he pleaded with a pout, crossing his arms, which were finally beginning to lose some of their coldness due to all the body heat around him. Oh, I'll get drinks. I'll show you. I can party too... way better than that annoying little prick, Rome. Stupid, ugly face.

code by valen t.

 

[ohdittoh]

TREVOR CALLAGHAN

@callaghansome has set his status to:
I really, really, really fucking suck.

@callaghandsome has set his outfit to:
The things I do for my roommates...They'd better be glad that I'm not a serial killer, as everyone seems to assert, or they'd be out o' luck.

@callaghandsome has set his location to:
The Johannes mansion. Alone, obviously, because I don't have anyone to go with and my roommates don't count. Where else? Since when have I ever missed a place that I could smoke and get some?
I know I have a girlfriend. Listen, I gotta keep my act up, if nothing else. I've got a reputation to uphold, even if I can't uphold it in anything beyond my location. Shut up.

@callaghandsome has mentioned:
That guy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Trevor tries to comfort Ash by blaming everything that just happened on himself.

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She was trembling and looking away, and he couldn’t think, and he couldn’t move, and he didn’t know what the hell to do except for sit and stare and watch her clutch her knees tighter to her chest and squeeze her eyes shut and try to suppress the headache and the anger and the whatever the fuck it was that he was feeling for Ash and all of this confusing shite that he didn’t fucking sign up for tonight. Maybe it was too much to expect one night of peace— one night where nothing shitty happened, where he enjoyed his time with his new girlfriend, where he drank and smoked and ended the night somewhere with said girlfriend while less than clothed— after he’d had it going so good for so long. A week— nearly a whole fucking week— of smooth enough sailing was too much for the universe to grant him, and here was the price that he had to pay in return for it. Here was where it all started to crumble.

Here was where it all went to hell.

It'd lasted longer than he'd expected.

...shite.

“Stop. Don’t.”

He remained silent. His eyes stared at her figure for a moment, but then it hurt(?) too much to not see her face that he had to look away. His heart threatened to ram out of his chest, and he could feel the tension in the veins in his wrist. He tried to breathe long, steady breaths, but his pounding head made his breathe waver and his air stream come out in choppy, short, rhythmic patterns.

He was angry. He couldn’t even try to deny that now; he was fucking furious. His jaw was clenched, his head was throbbing. If he had anything in his hands, it would be cracked, snapped, or broken.

He needed to alone— alone— alone— alone— fucking alone.

But Ash was crying— and it was so fucking annoying.

God, but she was crying.

Crying.

Even if she said that she wasn’t crying, he wasn’t an idiot— she was doing the same thing that he had done: lied to make things easier.

And who did she think she was making this easier for by saying that she wasn’t upset?

Herself?

Hell no, and she was definitely not making it easier for him.

He just wanted to be alone, and he didn’t want to deal with this shite right now.

“Don’t apologize.” Her voice was muddled, but he could still understand what she was saying, if barely. "It's not…” He could hear that her voice was close to breaking, and his brows furrowed. “You didn’t…” He lowered the knee he was kneeling and dropped into a cross-legged position. “Don't. I'm sorry."

She was sorry?

Oh, Christ. Shut up.

Don’t say shite like that.

He wanted to roll his eyes and laugh in her face— to force a grin, tell her drop it, tell her to never worry about it again.

He wanted this to be over with, because he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

She was trying to do that thing that girls did— the thing where she turned it back on herself, where she said that it was all her fault, where she tried to blame herself in some roundabout way.

Trevor’d thought that she was the cause of it, too, but now, he didn’t care. He could fucking care less— she was crying. He didn’t care whose fault it was.

She shouldn’t be crying.

She shouldn’t be out here, but she shouldn’t be crying.

She was crying.

What was he doing?

She was crying.

“Don’t be that way.”

It slipped out, his voice low and bordering angry, and his eyes trailed to her figure again. His head throbbed, and he clenched his jaw. “I mean…” He sighed, working his jaw slightly. “Don’t apologize,” he clarified. “It’s…”

She was…just…

Oh, feck…

HIs cold, glaring eyes softened slightly, and a wave of guilt washed over him. “It’s not yer fault,” he said, the alcohol slurring his words but his gaze remaining steady.

He didn’t know if he was lying or telling the truth right now, and he didn’t care.

He didn’t care about his throbbing head, and he didn’t care about what had just happened, and he didn’t care about what had happened before that or before that, and he didn’t care about anything else right now besides the fact that—

The fact that she—

She was crying.

“Hey…hey, look at me,” he said, brows knit as he reached out and gently put his hand on one of hers that wrapped around her knees.

He could do his best.

“Hey…” He moved closer to her. “We’re fine…don’t be mad at me, an’ don’ apologize,” he said, tone much softer than it had been. “You didn’ do anythin’…I’ve jus’…we’ve both jus’…had a bad night. It’s not yer fault, an’ I don’ wanna hear you say that.”

His throbbing head protested as he gave her a soft smile.

The smile was an odd mix of being forced and being genuine. It was that kind of smile that someone in pain gave— the smile that said I’m not fine right now, but I will be, so leave me alone.

“I’m fine…,” he assured, trying to study her face in spite of the pain that pierced his heart when he did. “When I said that…” He made his smile a bit more sure. “’I meant it.”

He hadn’t meant it, but he wasn’t thinking about lying right now. He wasn’t thinking that anything he said was true or untrue.

He was drunk and his head was throbbing and he was angry and he was guilty and he was—

He was doing his best.

“Look at me,” he asked again, his brows unknitting. “I…I’m sorry.” He moved closer, and now, his body was seated on the ground before her, his feet just a few inches from hers as he tried to peer into her face. “An’ before you try to apologize again, I…”

I was a jackass.

I won’t stop blaming you.

A throb in his head, and a clench of the jaw as his smile faltered for a moment.

“I…”

I promised you a good night, and I couldn’t even give you that.

I got jealous over a guy who doesn’t pose any threat whatsoever— a guy who's just your friend, who you don't want flirting with you, who you can't help the actions of.

I…

He let out a long breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he drew air in, and then he looked Ash in her eyes again.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, gentle, and slurred, but his words were sure:

“Darlin’, you have nothin’ to apologize for.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
I can't breathe but it is totally fine

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
"omg puppies and dancing and sunshine and rainbows!"

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the drink table

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Oates

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Kelli & Ronnie

@lockandkian has tagged:
hery ohdittoh

Kian was really trying his best not to be an overbearing big brother, making it very clear that Kelli and Ronnie didn’t have to hang around if they wanted to run along and party with their friends. That didn’t stop him from being pleasantly surprised when his sister stayed by his side, her eyes scanning over the vast table of drinks.

In true Kian Phelan fashion, his mind had begun to wander. Somewhere in the house a song had begun playing through heavily bass-tuned speakers, the deep thumping rattling around inside of his head as his ears tuned in on the music. The beats played out in his mind, arranging themselves neatly on the staff. Kian found himself nodding to the beat of the song as he took in the sounds of the new song, straining to hear the actual music beyond the bass. Who on earth thought that extreme bass was a good way to listen to music?

Maybe if Kian’s mind hadn’t been wandering off to the song playing over the speakers, he would’ve noticed Kelli pouring straight liquor into the cup before it was too late. Kian’s eyes widened as he saw the contents slosh around the interior of the cup as Kelli raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, her face immediately scrunching up at the sudden taste of alcohol.

Did Kian feel bad for bursting out laughing? Absolutely. But, on the flipside, there really wasn’t a better way to learn what to drink without making the mistake first.

“Kells, pro tip: most people mix hard liquor with soda before they drink it.” Kian struggled to say through his fit of giggles as he watched Ronnie pour the Sprite into the cup.

Carefully, Kian leaned backwards against the table as he worked to contain his gentle laughter even though the smile refused to leave his face. Once the endless laughter had ceased, Kian pushed himself off the table, waiting a few minutes for the alcohol-Sprite combo to begin to dwindle in their cups before deciding to make them some actually drinkable drunks. Turning around, Kian rubbed his hands together as he looked at the spread of drinks in front of him. With his fingers dancing over the cups, Kian pulled two off the stack and got to work.

“So, here’s a Don’t-Tell-Mom story for ya. Over the summer I got asked to play this gig at this pub sorta place on the outskirts of L.A. and after the show, I ended up chattin’ to the bartender while he was closin’ up shop.” Kian spoke as he began to mix liquids in the cup, each pause leaving his fingers drumming on the tabletop as he attempted to choose additional ingredients to add. “This dude was totally cool, real nice guy. He ended up bookin’ me two more gigs and he actually ended up teachin’ me some tricks for mixin’ drinks when I was between performances.”

With the two drinks finished, Kian grabbed them carefully and spun around to the younger girls, extending the cups.

“Enjoy,” Kian grinned, his hands dropping to his sides, “and try not to take straight shots of liquor without knowing how to do so. You’ll get real sick that way.”

Kian found himself leaning against the wall again, his thumbs working in between his skin and the skirt that he was positive was beginning to cut off all circulation to his paleing legs. Why had he agreed to dress up like his little sister? He really wasn’t pulling off the look at all outside of the fact that the constricting fabric was showing off more skin than usual. That’s what he got for wearing a shirt three sizes too small for him.

Scanning the room, Kian felt a weird little anxious flutter in his chest. He kept forgetting that Oates was supposedly showing up to the party and, if he was being honest, Kian was nervous as hell about it. Two years and absolutely zero contact later had really done a number on their relationship, or whatever was left of it. Even though Oates seemed quite happy that Kian had shown up, he couldn’t help but feel guilty about everything. At least he would, hopefully, have a chance to talk to him in person about it if and when he ever showed up to the party.

“So, Ronnie, what’s it like at Hollywood Arts?” Kian asked to distract him from the uncomfortable skirt of doom cinching around his abdomen and the nervousness. Crossing his arms over his chest, causing the tiny shirt to ride up once again, Kian’s fingers began to drum on his arms to the rhythm of another new song on the stereo. “I’ve heard quite a bit from Kells but you’ve been here longer, yeah? What’s the music department like? I can’t wait to get started, the equipment here is crazy good.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zephyr Evermore
"Cheer up! 'Cause nothing really matters."

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
bro... bro what

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
N/A

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

The minute that the words exited his lips, Zeph found himself regretting them and wanting to take them back almost immediately. A bet, no matter how small it may have been, was something that Zeph just didn't normally do. And maybe there was a tiny little voice inside of him that was screaming out about how Lin always joked about these crazy schemes on Twitter, but what if they weren't actually jokes? What if he really did plan on robbing a Subway?

That little voice of reason -- basically the little angel on his shoulder -- was smothered by the squeaky devil that was saying that this would be totally fine. If things got too dangerous or too dumb, Zeph could always back out! Lin could call him a pussy all he wanted, but Zeph wasn't that easily swayed by peer pressure.

... Right?

The little voice didn't have much time to voice its opinion, however, before Lin grabbed two of the bottles of soda and then Zeph's wrist and started dragging him through the house.

Zeph did his best to not trip over Mitsubishi and, like their previous journey through the crowds, he found himself mumbling apologies as his bulky figure bumped into person after person. When Lin shoulder-checked some poor dude, Zeph offered a really quick "Sorry!" that was easily lost in the sound of thumping music and talking teenagers.

How was he moving this fast in heels?!

Zeph could barely keep up as he stumbled his way up the stairs after Lin until they came to an abrupt halt at the top of the stairs. He let out a small, hesitant laugh, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to figure out what the hell kind of bet Lin had in mind. His hands planted firmly on his hips, head tilting to the side like a confused dog. Banister... pop... yeah, Zeph had zero idea what the hell Lin was thinking, except that there was the little survival instinct in him that was yelling "abort!"

Shut up, voice of reason, Zeph was trying to be cool.

How could he be ready when he didn't even know what he was supposed to be ready for?

He let out another forced, uncomfortable laugh -- you know the type. The aha that people made when they really didn't want to do something, but they were in too deep, so they were trying to act as if it was no big deal. That was Zeph's reaction -- especially to Lin's insistence that this was going to be something that Zeph was going to say he couldn't do. That, of course, clearly only meant one thing. Or two things. Or both of those two things, which just made his head swim.

It was either going to be illegal or life-threatening.

Or illegal and life-threatening.

"Alright, what's the bet?" He asked as he selected the purple soda and let it dangle from his fingertips by his side. Zeph kept his eyes glued to Lin, that expression of uncertainty still in his eyes with a little faltering smile. The kind of smile that was teetering on the edge of oh fuck, how do I get out of this? Because yeah, part of him was getting a little...

Antsy?

Yeah, antsy.

Lin straddled the banister and Zeph's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

That little part of Zeph that was screaming "don't do it!" was slowly starting to be smothered underneath the Zeph's own curiosity for what Lin had planned but also just the abrupt feeling of... wanting to not be seen as a pussy. Damn it. He'd been wrong. His survival instinct wasn't stronger than his need to appear cool to his new best friend.

Hesitantly, Zeph stepped towards the banister and mimicked Lin's movements and posture until he was also straddling it, but he refused to look down because, well, chances were he'd pass out or something from peering down at the ground. You know, the ground where if he lost his balance and went tumbling down, he'd probably break his arm or even worse, his leg and then he'd be told that he could never dance again, and if he could never dance again, then--

Shut up. It was fine.

Living on the edge. That's what Zeph was doing now. Not letting himself get too worked up.

"What's the bet?" He asked.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders
"Life is for keeping score."

@queenofhell has set their status to:
sick makeup, bro

@queenofhell has set their outfit to:
literally look at the gif

@queenofhell has interacted with:
Saint

@queenofhell has mentioned:
Jules, Alex, Naomi

@queenofhell has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

Oh good. Thank fucking hell he didn't want her apologies or needed to complain about the whole breakup thing. There was only so much that Ava could handle of that and with JJ having fallen for her newest boy toy, well... Ava was waging that she'd have to suck it up and be a decent friend and pretend to care with he fucking broke her heart in less than a week.

At least she hoped it would be less than a week.

She was slightly taken aback when Saint so casually called Naomi a whore. Again, while Ava and Naomi weren't necessarily close friends, Ava did know of her and, of course, she knew about her... less than stellar reputation. Her whole, well, sleeping around reputation. Not that Ava had any issue with that, alright? Do whatever the fuck you wanted -- and if that was sleeping around, then whatever. It wasn't her place to judge. However, it did worry her when... well...

Alex.

Shut up. Ava wasn't soft.

Ava just worried.

No, no, Ava didn't worry. Ava just... didn't... want to see her friends get used. Because then she had to be there to comfort them and threaten the person and it was all a whole lot of work and Ava really didn't like to work. Yeah. That's all it was. Ava being selfish and wanting to avoid having to do more in defense of her friends.

Now, Ava wasn't known for her abilities in comforting people or saying the right things in certain situations. She tended to say the wrong things more often than not.

Right now was probably no exception as, after Saint finished lamenting about blah, blah, blah Naomi and blah, blah, blah ex-girlfriend, all Ava managed to say in regards to it were two simple words.

"That sucks."

What else was she supposed to say? Normally in these situations, Ava's reaction was to comment briefly, ignore, and move on. Easy peasy. Let JJ vent when she needed to, of course, but she was unskilled and unfamiliar when it came to other people.

"Do you want a tissue or something?"

It was a joke, okay?

She let out a heavy sigh, eyes still studying the bat decorations. "I don't blame you, though," she commented. "If was in a hypothetical relationship and some bitch broke me and my hypothetical... significant other up, I'd be pissed. No respect for them and probably no respect for my ex for not believing me in it being a misunderstanding."

Because that's what this was, right? A misunderstanding.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Hunter Drake

How are you feeling?

throwing all caution into the freaking wind

What are you wearing?

*manly noises intensify*

Where are you?

Party

Did you mention anyone?

Nickie

Who are you talking to?

Some foxy lady

And, like, tagging?

ohdittoh

The backdrop of whatever song had been playing at the time, the hollars similar to the ones he himself had let out no less than a few minutes ago, high from a joy of finally being free of the contraints of his inner-struggle about what he felt about Nickie -- all of reduced to white noise as Nickie brushed past him in a hurry. Her shoulder bumped into his, the sight of her hand over her mouth as if her lunch was coming back to say hello left Hunter in a state of such visible confusion that he had a delayed reaction.

When he finally realized just exactly what happened, the boy still didn't know what exactly transpired.

He rolled back the scene in his head a few times now, playing back the conversation (of what he could remember word for word). Every moment that he heard in his head just didn't point to Nickie bulldozing her way through a dancing crowd of coloful characters, and making a beeline for the bathroom.

As he scratched his head, a collection of eyes momentarily making him the focus of their attention, Hunter laughed. Not in any way that would make anyone think he thought this was funny. This was the furthest thing from being even remotely hilarious. No, Hunter just laughed slow and awkwardly as his body did the same around that same group of dancers, around that same crowd.

Hunter maneuvered himself around and was outside the bathroom he saw Nickie rush into. Part of him wanted to immediately to knock or just burst through the door, but the second before he almost decided on that, he had a thought.

She might take that the wrong way.

Wrong way for what? He found himself thinking, leaning against the wall next to the door. It must have been a few minutes now that Hunter was outside but hadn't said anything. He wanted to -- god, he wanted to just knock and get it over with, but he felt absolutely helpless. Before, he could just say what he was thinking, or what she needed to hear or what he thought she needed to hear, and things would go back to as they were.

But they weren't, were they?

"No, they weren't," Hunter heard himself say.

Things between them were different because they were more than just two friends who happened to enjoy each other's company. They were more than two friends who happened to enjoy each other's company who also kissed and made flirty eyes at each other. Hunter had confessed his soul to her and she returned the favor, though with a lot more fewer words than he belted out. Then again, he also threw in a sub-confession that may as well be a love letter to Chas.

"Wait, what if this is what that's about?" Hunter gasped at that possible realization. He knew a lot of people didn't like Chas and he always said he didn't give two flying fucks about it, but if Nickie had some kind of affection for Chas, then what if--"No, it can't be. Can it?"

Frustrated, Hunter rubbed his temples, groaning in annoyance. "This shouldn't be this hard."

Hunter took in a few deep breaths. He decided to roll the dice, cock the revolver, and take his chances at Russian Roulette. If he was wrong, then his relationship with Nickie -- whatever one wanted to call it -- would be DOA. But, if by some miracle that he doesn't totally screw whatever is between them up, there may still be a chance.

And then came a few knocks on the door and a hopeful Hunter on the other side. "Nickie..?"

º º code by ditto º º​

 

[ohdittoh]

• • LINDSAY KAY • •

@justlindsayin has set his status to:
gonna fuckin winnnnnnnn lmaooooo

@justlindsayin has set his outfit to:
daphne and im fuckin rockin it lmaooooooo

@justlindsayin has set his location to:
gennys place

@justlindsayin has mentioned:
n/a

@justlindsayin has interacted with:
zephy

@justlindsayin has tagged:
Winona

@justlindsayin has written a tl;dr:

Spoiler: Click To View

Lin takes Zeph to the top of the stairs, where he preps to begin the bet.

halloween update:
Lin, the bottle sitting on the top of the bannister railing being crushed by his hose-d thighs, laughed at the tone of Zeph’s voice, cocking his crooked, toothy, dimpled grin at his friend. “Whaaat, are you scared, Zephy?” He gently shoved Zeph in the center of his back, laughing happily. “There’s no reason to be— unless you know you’re already gonna lose.” Which, come on, of course Zeph was gonna lose, because Lin always won, but Zeph didn’t need to know that— he’d learn from experience.

As if entirely unfazed by the fact that he was a solid fifteen feet above the ground, Lin brought his left foot to rest in front of himself on the bannister, and he grabbed his pastel lilac shoe by the heel, giving it a solid yank to get it off (and somehow— amazingly— avoiding snapping the heel off) and dropping it down on the floor that he’d stepped off of. He watched it hit the floor with a clunk, and he moved on to the other foot. His dog began to sniff at his shoe, and Lin laughed happily, rocking slightly on the bannister even though he had one leg off of the side of it and one leg on the bannister and was one wrong move from falling right off of it. “Don’t eat it, Mitsu,” he said to her in a baby voice, as if she would understand, and she looked up at him with a cocked head, causing him to laugh and wiggle again.

He looked up at Zeph’s back, setting his legs back on either side of the bannister and gripping the orange soda in both of his hands. “Aight,” he said. “Oui, oui— luhmao, let’s get this show on the road,” he laughed. He patted at his hair, prodding in several particular places to make sure that his bobby pins were in place, and he moved his left leg back to the inside of the bannister so that he was sitting with his back facing the crowd below. He shoved his legs in the two of the gaps of the bannister, looping his ankles around two balusters and trying to pull his calfs forward to make sure that the position of his legs was locked in—

And then he threw his body backwards, hands clutching the soda as his torso dangled down from the bannister, his ankles, now near the top of the railing, the only thing keeping him suspended. His red wig hair dangled down from his head, and it suddenly felt much heavier on his head as the bobby pins tugged at the hair that he’d attached them to. He made a soft hiss and gave a quiet “ouch” as he tried to grow used to the pain, and he shifted the position of the soda in his hands so that he was holding it at his chest, the bottle cap held out.

He looked up at Zeph, his ears ringing from the immediate rush of blood to his head, and he had the genius idea of craning his neck slightly so that the blood could flow up slightly. He laughed his exuberant laugh, though it sounded a bit weird because of the fact that his knees and ankles were straining to keep him hanging from a high bannister, and he held the bottle up to his mouth and mimed draining it. “First one to drink the bottle like this wins,” he explained finally.

So this was his dangerous genius bet that Zeph probably thought that he couldn’t do that would win Lin all of Zeph’s money, huh?

Lin was a betting master— he’d done things like this countless times, and he’d won every time. Luhmao, if there was one thing that the 5’10” bundle of energy could do, it was hang upside down and eat. It was kind of a traditional bet—

But he’d added a bit of danger, ‘cuz that made things fun.

What was the point in betting if there wasn’t even a slight risk of serious injury? C’mon.

Lin could feel his heart beating in quickly in his chest as the adrenaline began to rush through his veins, and he laughed happily.

He grinned a proud grin. “C’mon, join me. No timer, luhmao, less margin for error— plus it’s a sick way for you to get your ass whooped, eh?”

lmao catch you later
. Lin Kay . ​

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West
"I heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in the world."

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
.....

@Fire&Ash has set their outfit to:
Spider Gwen plus a sweatshirt

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

He was... he was... lying.

It was glaringly obvious to her, and now that the guilt for being the catalyst that had successfully ruined the entire night continued to eat away at her. She hadn't meant to cause this or start this or ruin anything, but she had. Unwittingly, unknowingly, she'd caused this and she was the only one to blame, right? Right.

She remembered a conversation with Charlie where the other girl had lectured her on not hurting Trevor and what had Ash said? That she wouldn't and at the time she had meant it and she still meant it now, of course, but she'd already broken that promise. It had taken her one week -- one week -- to break this promise and do exactly what Charlie and who knows who else had been waiting for. One week for her to hurt Trevor, even if it wasn't on purpose, even if she hadn't wanted to, she still had.

Fuck.

Ash shouldn't have come out here. She should've... she should've... just left. Gone to her room or something. She should've stuck to their original agreement and remained as just friends, and then she could've just stayed away from him and none of this would've been happening. She wouldn't be here not crying over nothing and Trevor wouldn't have grown angry and he wouldn't have stormed off and none of this would've happened.

“Don’t be that way.”

His tone was low and naturally, it did nothing to calm her. It just made her heart pound faster until she thought it might burst in her chest, smashed against the inside of her ribcage.

"Don't apologize."

She started to part her lips to apologize for apologizing, but thought better of it and quickly shut her jaw. Her teeth found her bottom and she bit into it, grinding her lip between her teeth until it started to hurt but she hardly noticed the pain. In some ways, it was almost welcomed because it distracted from the storm brewing in her mind and the churning of her stomach and the constricting of her lungs.

Mostly distracted from it. It was hard to forget about all of that when every inhale felt like million tiny needles were pricking into her throat and her chest, and every exhale left her shaking.

"It's not yer fault," he continued speaking and Ash wished he would stop.

She wished he would stop lying to... what? Try and spare her feelings or something? It was dumb. It wasn't helping anything. It was her fault because she said hi to Lucky instead of finding Trevor, and because she said they shouldn't tell anybody, and because she did this and she did that and it all came back to her.

It all came back on her.

And it had been dumb of her to think that keeping this secret would spare Trevor's feelings and leave him less hurt. Dorian was the perfect example of why it never worked, of why he would end up hurt and broken. But she'd tried doing it the normal way -- the coming right out and saying it way -- with Nico and she'd hurt him, too.

No matter how it went down, no matter how she approached it, she was going to inevitably hurt him.

Ash just hadn't thought it would take only a week.

What was it that Trevor had said when this first became something? He called himself bad medicine, but clearly he had misspoken because it wasn't him, it was her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She'd come out here to comfort him and yet now he was comforting her and all of the guilt was just growing and growing until Ash was afraid that it might just swallow her whole.

“Hey…hey, look at me,” he said.

Ash didn't want to -- that beast of guilt was threatening to swallow her if she did, but his warm hand pressed against hers and her heart gave a solid thud in her chest, and she reluctantly lifted her head so she could meet his eyes. While he spoke, she brought her free hand up to wipe away at her eyes with her sleeve again.

Stop, just stop.

He just kept lying.

She couldn't handle it.

Ash wasn't mad at him -- why would she be? It wasn't his fault, even if he'd called Lucky a bitch in heat first. It had been her fault for thinking it would be fine to talk to Lucky when she'd promised to hangout with Trevor. And it had been her fault for not... for...

It had been her fault.

That was the thing. It had been her fault and Trevor was just lying every time he said it wasn't. He was lying to spare her feelings, or try to spare her feelings, or whatever, and it wasn't doing anything except the complete opposite.

She broke eye contact with him for a moment, her gaze falling back down.

"I'm..." sorry.

That's what she wanted to say again, of course. In case Trevor had missed it the first half a dozen times. In case he didn't believe her. In case those two little words would somehow mend this and fix their entire night -- you know, the night that was supposed to be good and fun and be just the two of them and yet now it was...

Well, it was just the two of them.

So... they'd gotten that part right at least.

She didn't want this to be the rest of their night, though. Back and forth fake apologies for something that neither of them... that... oh fuck, Ash didn't even know anymore. Her head hurt. Nothing made sense. She was going to be sick. Her lungs hurt, her breathing still faltered and wavered and ached with every inhale, and she just wanted to stop.

Stop... stop... thinking. Stop... whatever this was.

"Okay," she said, turning her gaze back up to meet his. Her voice was hollow, but it was all she could muster right now in the strained silence.

Ash wanted to skip past this part and go back to... to the before. The before everything went to hell.

She pulled her hand out from underneath his before taking it in hers and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She sniffled, her sleeve wiped again at her eyes, and she managed a half-hearted, wobbly smile.

"I can't take you seriously with that wig," she mumbled in a weak attempt at a... half-hearted joke.

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