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

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kellian phelan
dance, dance.​
@phelanthebeat has set her status to:
Shots, shots, sh-sh-sh-sho-- wait, er...cups, cups, c-c-c-cups, every-bah-day!

@phelanthebeat has set her outfit to:
Ahem. "Don't have sex with my sister!" Ahem. "Kelli, I will buy you a pickax!" Ahem. "Vibes, man!" (Is this working?)

@phelanthebeat has set her location to:
The party!

@phelanthebeat has mentioned:
Oates

@phelanthebeat has interacted:
Ronnie and Kian

@phelanthebeat has tagged:
hery hery geminiy geminiy

@phelanthebeat has written a tl;dr:
Kelli drinks and asks Ronnie a few questions.
Kelli put a hand to her throat, trying to quiet her coughing and throat-clearing at the lingering taste of alcohol in her mouth. She stuck out her tongue, her brows squishing together for a moment before she shook her head. Turned out that the sprite only temporarily helped.

Even so, she smiled as brightly as she could. “It-It’s not that bad!” she said, her voice wavering. She coughed again, and she shook her head.

Blegh. Blegh, blegh.

“Thanks,” she said as her friend began to pour her drink, smiling and pressing her tongue into the roof of her mouth. She’d heard somewhere that that helped suppress coughs or something like that. It didn’t work too well, though, and she coughed again softly. “Thanks!” she said again, taking the cup and draining it again.

Blegh— blegh! It still tasted like alcohol.

Her brother laughed at her, and she lowered her now-empty cup and gave him a mock-offended “heeeey!” before coughing again. “I didn’t know,” she huffed, smiling. “I’m not an e—” A loud belch escaped her and she touched her nose as it burned. “— expert,” she finished with a soft giggle, shaking her head.

As Kian began to tell his story— the best kind of story, a Don’t-Tell-Mom story— Kellian watched him begin to make two drinks. She was careful to observe just how much he poured into the cups. It looked, uh, complicated. Like, she couldn’t do something that fancy if she tried.

“Dooooope,” she said, awe written in her voice and in her face as she took the drink from her brother.

She lifted the cup to her lips and took a small sip of it, her eyes widening as she gasped, “It’s not barf-worthy!” She took another drink of it. “Oh, dope!” She looked at her brother. “Thanks, Kian!” she chirped, her face wrought with thankfulness for his sparing her of having to fake enjoyment of a drink.

She looked up at her brother as his eyes searched the room. “Are you looking for someone?” she asked, turning her own eyes to look out at the crowd. “I wanna see the hostess really bad— she seemed dope on Twitter, and I wanna see her in person. She’s really pretty and seems really nice— like, everyone here does.” Kelli smiled over at Ronnie, inclining her head slightly as she tried to think of others to mention, and when she remembered who, she looked up at Kian again. “Oh, or Oates! It’s been forever— I really wanna see him again.” She felt a small pang of worry that he’d forgotten her or something, but she tried to dismiss it. They had been, like, close. Like, even when her brother and he dated, they were still super close. He’d surely remember her…

She hoped.

Even if he’d forgotten her, she really wanted to see him again. She just wanted to catch up.

Upon the question to Ronnie, Kelli looked at her roomie again, smiling and awaiting her answer as she sipped her not-horrible drink. “Oh, yeah, what is the music program like?” she asked. She’d seen Ronnie doing some work on her music throughout her time spent rooming with her, but she’d not thought to really ask a ton about it so that she didn’t seem nosey. “I’ve heard a lot about a, uhm…a festival? Where you sing and dance and art and stuff— oh!” She suddenly remembered the name of it, and her smile broadened. “The Winter Arts Fest…what’s that?” she asked.

She realized, after a second, that she’d bombarded her with even more questions on top of what her brother had asked, and she laughed slightly and muttered a “sorry, that was a lot” before sipping her drink again.

Oh, and then she thought of another question that she just had to ask—

“Do I have to do something, too?”
º º code by ditto º º​
 

Juliette Jameson
"Please, you can’t imitate perfection.”


@QueenJules has set their status to:
#Dying but peep the outfit.

@QueenJules has interacted with:
Jace, Javier

@QueenJules has mentioned:
Dorian, Minnie, Gus

@QueenJules has tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn Winona Winona sunshineysoul sunshineysoul​


Jace had to be the most whiny, anxious-filled, and complete airhead of a human being to ever exist on this earth. Was he dropped more than she knew about? He could hardly stay still just he couldn’t even spit out a fathomable sentence. His reasoning for not messaging a... ‘mate’ had baffled her. Yes, she called the only man in the world who’d be interested in Jace an acceptable mate. Because if anything, Jace was nothing but an idiotic lonely animal.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t wave around that god awful yellow garbage bag of a beanie and have someone at the very least moderately attractive arrive for a mating call.

“You should still message him, though I think he might be a little too out there for you. So forget I said anything, you’re too... you for Holden”

Animals were much smarter in the ways of love compared to Jason West. Not to mention Holden was this super big pornstar who had men spreading their legs for him simply because it was his job. Whether or not he remembers Jace isn’t what Jace should be worried about, it should be his social confidence whenever his once in a lifetime opportunity of romance comes.

Nobody liked awkward tension.

Nobody.

According to Jace, Dorian hadn’t come up with any specific reason to go talk to Minnie— She didn’t care if they were friends or not. The blonde was a living, breathing succubus who was afraid of monogamous relationships simply because she pretended about her career when the only thing she cared about is her next ride on the slut train.

“What do you mean?”

Of course she knew what he meant. Jace meant, ‘are you two dating! Oh boy! I can’t wait to gossip about this with my nonexistent friends.’ Maybe she was being too harsh, but Juliette was pissed the fuck off. It wasn’t fair how Dorian tells her that he wants to see her and then runs off with Goldilocks who wants to canoodle all those fucking bears.

“We’re... whatever we are.” She said, finishing the other eye and capping the eyeliner pen before returning it back to her bag

Juliette knew what she wanted to be. But honestly? She was just so fucking scared that she’d get rejected as soon as she mentioned the word girlfriend. They’ve been sleeping together for a few months, and despite knowing him most of her life— JJ didn’t really know where he stood with relationships.

But he was a Harlow. Harlows were disgustingly nice so maybe Dorian’s idea of relationships matched his sister’s terrible need of smiles and affection wherever she walked.

Madeline Harlow was the exact definition of the whore next door.

Well, maybe she wasn’t a whore. But the whole... incident on twitter was enough to convince her that little miss perfect wasn’t so perfect.

And Gus and Javi’s attitude? Oh. It pissed her the fuck off.

Maybe most of it was charged with her hatred for Minnie and Dorian’s love outing but whatever the case was, they were little butthurt dicks. So what? She didn’t love them. Get over it.

Men were so damn sensitive.

Just look at... No, she couldn’t count Jace as a man.

Fortunately for her, a target was presented for her to take her anger off of. Considering he was drunk off his ass, this shouldn’t of been an issue.

Juliette held up a finger for Jace to stop talking momentarily while she approached Javier. Naturally he has started to greet her to which she replied— a simple.

“Stop talking.”

She took the phone that laid against the armrest and used Javier’s drunk state to get his thumbprint, gaining access to his phone where she’d successfully changed his username to ‘JavierWithTheBadHair.’ Stupid, she’s aware but unfortunately she couldn’t say JavierWithTheSmallDick or else it wouldn’t of worked. Twitter and their damn policies.

After Juliette was satisfied, she threw the phone his way. “You can have your phone back now.” It’d landed somewhere where the sun didn’t shine and she took much pride in it.

Whoops.

Sorry, not sorry.
º º code by ditto º º
 
COLE HOWARD
"when did it get cool to be so sad?"
@howdy.coleboy has set their status to:
why am i this sad?

@howdy.coleboy has set their outfit to:
reach for the sky

@howdy.coleboy has set their location to:
somewhere in the mansion

@howdy.coleboy has mentioned:
charllie + dani

@howdy.coleboy has interacted with:
charlie

@howdy.coleboy has tagged:
geminiy geminiy

tonight was a bad idea. i shouldn't have come. i especially shouldn't have brought dani. we could be at the apartment, talking to mom or something.

cole's mind was too full, and not with the right things. his mind was swimming with if dani got enough school work done to be caught up and if their mom was trying to call them and if dani was getting herself into trouble and if maybe cole and dani should drop out of HA to go back home and-,

there were simply too many worries running through cole's head. his eyes were glazed over, he was not in the mood for a party. which sucked. it seemed that as of lately, he continued to not be in a partying mood, or a hanging out mood, or just a good mood in general.

what is wrong with me?

he hated how he had been feeling. he hated how he didn't feel like himself, and he especially hated how there was nothing he could do to feel like himself again. no matte what he did, nothing gave him any sort of lasting happiness. writing music? nope. playing music? nada. dressing up with his sister as characters from his favorite childhood movie trilogy for a halloween party? nah. the only thing cole hadn't tried was to get flat out drunk.

seems to work for everyone else...

before anymore sad thoughts popped into his head, there was a tiny human clinging to his back. his hands instinctively grabbed her legs, making sure she didn't slip, and turning his head to try and see her.

of course it was charlie, who else would it be? he felt his face remain dead and lifeless until she hopped down and stood in front of him. immediately he plastered on a smile, hoping it would erase his bad mood.

it didn't

"hey charlie," he did his best to sound excited, to match her energy. normally that was no problem for cole, he was never one to be eeyore at any function. and of course he was always happy to see charlie, the only person that could keep him sane amongst everything going on.

he gave her costume a look over before a small, genuine smile came to his face.

"wow, if y'all don't win the costume contest, then i'll know it was rigged." he plucked his woody's hat from charlie's head and placed it back on his own. "if the rest of your gang looks as good as you, then i can't imagine anyone else winnin'." cole situated the hat on his head, giving it a little tip in her direction, returning hers from earlier

º º code by ditto º º
 
nickie abrams
you've just gotta keep on, keep on.​
How are you feeling?
...
What are you wearing?
Peace! Love! I fucking need both.
Where are you?
Gen's place.
Did you mention anyone?
Chas, Gen, JJ.
Who are you talking to?
Hunter.
And, like, who are tagging, exactly?
natsukashii natsukashii
Can I get a tl;dr?
Nickie pukes, stops puking, tells Hunter to come in, and then pukes some more.
Kinda gross warning: it talks about puking. Not in detail, but, gross, it’s puking.

Nickie Abrams, having just been confessed to by the very boy who she’d proclaimed that she was in love with, was vomiting into Genevieve Johannes’ toilet at a raging Halloween party after having only drank three cups of alcohol. Her trembling hands grasped the sides of the seat, her mind far more preoccupied with the fact that she was puking than the fact that she was gripping a dirty toilet seat. Her hair threatened to fall into her face, and she silently prayed, as she spilled her guts into the bowl, that it wouldn’t. The last thing that she needed to do was to have to clean bile out of her meticulously-styled hair. Her eyes were tearing up at the pain of her lurching stomach, and she tried her best to hold them back as she tried to force air into her lungs between the nearly rhythmic shots of pain through her abdomen.

She moved one hand to press again the cold floor in an attempt to soothe the jerking in her stomach that ripped her throat, and it seemed to help, because her vomiting subsided after a moment.

She gasped in air, squeezing her eyes shut, and she lowered her other shaking hand to the floor, trying her best to hold back her tears.

“Oh, shit…,” she whispered, and she scooted back slightly so that she could lean her head back against a wall.

Nickie Abrams, having just been confessed to by the very boy who she’d proclaimed that she was in love with, had run off and vomited in Genevieve Johannes’ toilet at a raging Halloween party after having only drank three cups of alcohol.

It couldn’t’ve been the drinking that had caused that to happen. Nickie, as much as she hated the taste and the smell of liquor, could handle her drinks. She could blame it on that, if she wanted to, but she knew that Hunter was smarter than to buy that excuse. Regardless, she could try, and, she concluded, that would be what she said when he asked— or if he asked.

Her lying had made her nauseated; seeing him that happy and made her ill. She could try to get around it— she could try to say that it was some mix of happy nerves and an empty stomach plus alcoholic drinks— but she knew that nothing that she could say was more true than that she lied and that she’d gotten sick because she couldn’t keep up with that lying, or, at least, not lying to him and seeing that it worked. She just…

Seeing him so happy from a lie...

It was catharsis and abreaction all at once. It was heaven and it was hell.

And she just…

She had to crack.

She had to get it out some way.

But she wasn’t going to cry— she was not going to fucking cry.

She’d puked— that was enough sign of weakness, and that was enough sign that she couldn’t hold up. She wasn’t going to crumble, though. She was not going to crumble.

She was determined.

She’d done enough already.

She had to hold it together for him— for the fucking lie that she’d just puked her guts out for.

She heard a soft voice outside, and she opened her eyes and look at the door as her hand found the handle of the toilet. She sat up enough to flush it, but she remained seated in the floor, trying to listen for who it was— and trying to hear what they were saying.

Then came knock, knock, knock.

“Nickie…?”

She knew that voice. Her name, from his mouth, sounded blaring, even though it was muffled by a door and by the bathroom counter that blocked the noise.

“Shit,” she whispered, and the nausea washed over her again.

She held her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the toilet as she thought, over and over again, bestrongbestrongbestrongbestrongbestrong.

“C…Come in,” she called, and, as soon as the words had left her mouth, more of the contents of her stomach followed.
º º code by ditto º º​
 
"waste of my time..."
saint taylor
@sainttay has set his status to:
I'm not an angry or bitter person...

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

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

@sainttay has mentioned:
Naomi, Gen, Jo, and Gus...

@sainttay has interacted with:
Ava...

@sainttay has tagged:
Winona Winona

@sainttay has written a tl;dr:
Saint talks with Ava.
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Saint tucked in his lips, an amused puff of air escaping his clogged nose in spite of the serious, hostile sentiment that his words had held, and he pressed out a smile. Even the stoic boy could appreciate a dry joke and a blunt personality, and he appreciated her not trying to console him in the typical omg, is there anything that I can do to help?— or, perhaps even worse, a that’s not what I heard about your breakup…

The latter of the two, he received nearly each time that he carried on any kind of conversation with anyone. It always came back to oh, you’re such a shit guy or oh, your best friend is such a shit guy, and no one looked at him for who he was. They only looked at him for what he did, which was none of their business in the first place, and, though he, quite frankly, couldn’t care less about others’ opinions on him, it got extremely repetitive and frustrating, the whole “striking up a conversation with someone who looks as if they might be sensible, only for them to ridicule you for something that they know nothing about and that is none of their business whatsoever”; everyone was quick to judge right and wrong on him, but they always got increasingly angry when he did the same back to them. It was a tiring routine, and an entire waste of his time.

This conversation with Ava was a refreshing change of pace. “Exactly. I’m glad that you understand…you seem to be one of very, very few.” He sighed softly. “Going back to what we were discussing a bit ago, all of the sheep are quick to believe what their holy leader says, or what anyone else within their close community says about someone without their community. Exhibit A…all of that Chas shit, and, Exhibit B, my breakup.” He shrugged slightly. “I suppose that it just goes to show no to trust any one person, right— or, rather, not to base your opinions on the opinions of other, to look at the facts in their naked form, and…form your own thoughts on that.”

He let out a quiet exhale from his mouth that wasn’t quite a sigh. “That’s all beside the point, I guess…” He let out a quiet chuckle. “My side of conversations tend to get a bit tangential, and I blame it on the Southerner in me.” He shook his head slightly. “Pardon that,” he requested.

He paused a moment, looking at the oil portrait for a moment. “I suppose that this party was an interesting one to get me back into the swing of things…” His eyes shifted back to the crowd, and then moved back up to the bats. “The scenery is certainly…something. The atmosphere…hm…and all of these….” He lifted up a finger to do a slow air quote. “…’costumes’…” He lowered his hand again, and then continued speaking in his slow drawl. “I think that you could find more clothing on a nudist beach, if I’m honest, but I suppose that this is…one night where you’re allowed to have your nipples and junk out and no one can say anything about it…” He suppressed an eye roll. “Though people tend to…do that kind of thing, anyway…everyone gets so…uptight when you comment on their clothing…that it’s nearly funny, you know…seeing how angry they get.”

Though it wasn’t really all that funny, because people always snapped back at him, unable to take the joke or accept the comment as constructive criticism.

“It tends to be a bit of a waste of time and breath, though. I don’t think that I’ll ever understand the people who pick fights just for the fun of it…,” he concluded, and he looked out at the crowd again, his eyes catching on a certain girl in a certain costume that he’d already commented on tonight—

…

She was standing with his roommate, too.

He tried not to seem angry, and he quickly looked away.

He’d forgotten that he’d saw her leave his apartment. To be fair, he had been lit as hell, so it had been a fuzzy, far-back memory, but now that he saw the two of them together again, he knew that he couldn’t’ve imagined it.

It was fine. His friend could hang out with his ex, and he wouldn’t mind, and it wouldn’t make him angry whatsoever. He would have said if it made him angry, or if he saw it as odd in the slightest.

Even so, what a fucking dick move, bro.

“Never understood it,” he repeated, trying to turn his mind back to the conversation at hand and keep it away from the bitterness he felt building in his head.
º º code by ditto º º
 
TREVOR CALLAGHAN
@callaghansome has set his status to:
I can't handle this level of-- I can't. I fucking...I just fucking can't.

@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:
Eli and that guy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:
Trevor tries to...comfort??? Ash.
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The look in her eyes and the way that she uttered the word “okay” made Trevor roll his eyes.

She didn’t believe him.

He didn’t know if what he was saying was true or not, but she didn’t believe him, and a crack of pain shot through his aching head.

This was pissing him off more than anything, and he knew that that wasn’t right, but he couldn’t fucking help it, okay?!

His girlfriend was blaming herself for everything that had happened, and he didn’t care if he blamed her, but she couldn’t blame herself.

She was still upset, and nothing that he was doing seemed to help. She was forcing a smile like he had done, but seeing her do it was…just fucking annoying.

Tell me.

She pulled her hand out from under his own, and he studied her face as she took his hand in her own, working his jaw as his gaze slid back into being a glare. “I can’t take you seriously with that wig,” she mumbled.

Well, fuckin’—

His hand immediately went to his scalp and gripped the top of the wig, whipping it off and casting it to his side, his movements too fast to be calm but still rather slow thanks to the grogginess that the liquor had lent itself to. “How about now?” he asked, his voice much louder and harsher than before as he glared at her.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

He couldn’t take any more excuses of her not talking to him. He couldn’t take any more of this shite— of this— of her just apologizing for something that he could care less whether she should apologize for or not and of her sitting down and crying—

Because she was crying and he couldn’t fucking stop it, and if there was one fucking— one single fucking thing that Trevor couldn’t handle, it was losing control.

Things weren’t going his way. She wasn’t shutting the hell up and taking him at his word, and—

Trevor was an overbearing, pretentious prick or whatever the fuck you wanted to call him— say that to his face, think that behind his back, spread it around, whatever the hell— he could fucking care less about how much of an ass he seemed— he could care less.

He wasn’t a good guy. How many goddamn times did he have to say it? He wasn’t a good guy— he was selfish and fucking—

He wasn’t thinking of all of this right now.

He wasn’t going to think of this right now— he couldn’t.

He just—

He knew he wasn’t a good guy, and he knew that this wasn’t how he was supposed to treat a crying girl, and he knew that this wasn’t how he was supposed to react, because she was crying— and she was crying because of him or— why the hell was she crying?! Whatever the hell it was, she was crying. Was she crying because of him?

Was she crying because of—

Oh, fuck off.

He pulled his hand away from hers, sighing. “Don’t give me that,” he said, his voice much colder than he had expected, but he didn’t try to fix it this time. “Okay,” he mimicked her voice, trying his best to contain his anger. “Don’t be mad at me, or at yerself.” He looked her in the eyes, brows knit. “We’re datin'. Yer supposed to talk to me. To tell me everythin’...or whatever.” His words were slurred and hardly discernible. “Don’t just say okay and give me this little…” He mirrored her smile, and then his face dropped back into its barely-controlled anger. “Don’t give me that.”

He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out a long exhale. “Please. Don’t cry, don’t give me this…” He huffed, trying to find the right words. “Don’t try ta force a smile an’ lie to me wit’ that little okay.” He put his hands to his forehead, trying not to get too heated, too loud, or burst a blood vessel.

He looked into her eyes, the anger and frustration in his gaze boring into her eyes. He wasn’t thinking about what he was saying— he was furious and just wanted her to shut the hell up and just—

This was different than the anger that Chas and Adriane and even that Lucky motherfucker raised from him. It was deeper than that, and it was more intense than that, and he couldn’t fucking explain it, but it was just—

He was furious.

“You—“ His voice came out louder than he wanted it to, and he huffed angrily, lowering his shaking hands from his face. “You,” he started softer, “have done this shite since we got together.” His voice had that edge of anger, but it was much softer than it had been, despite his angry gaze. “This whole oh, it’s nothing— this whole holdin’ out on me shite. You promised— I feckin’ promised that I’d keep us a secret, an’ tha first thin’ you go an’ do is go an’ tell Eli, an’ now, you won’t even do tha favor of listenin' ta me an’ believin’ me when I say I’m fine—“ He set his face. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “So take that and fuckin’ believe it. An’ more than that, just stop blamin' yerself fer—“ His voice was rising again, and he took a second to huff and lower it before continuing. “Fer whatever the fuck…happened back there.”

He put his palms down on the concrete behind him, leaning back on them as he looked at the starry sky. The concrete was colder than he’d expected, but he couldn’t say that he was particularly disappointed. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes as a breeze blew through and scooted the blonde wig beside him a bit further away.

When he spoke again, his voice was much calmer and pensive. “I jus’ want you to listen to me and to…”

To fucking shut up.

He lowered his gaze, looking at her again.

He couldn’t say that to her. Regardless of how he felt— regardless of how drunk he was and regardless of how inhibited his decision-making was— he couldn’t say that to her.

She was his girlfriend. He cared about her, after all.

He didn’t want to see her cry.

That was all that it amounted to.

He cared about her, and he didn’t want to see her…

Cry…

She…

He sighed softly, looking away from her. “…’cuz I’ve been doin’ my part, an’ you should just do tha same,” he finished in a mumble. “An’…I’m sorry." He brought his hand up and ran it through his hair, breathing out his last words out in a sigh:

"An’ I fuckin’ mean it.”

In his last line, there was an implied even if you don't care enough to accept it.
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Simone Guiterrez
How are you feeling?
Potentially jealous but taking the high road
What are you wearing?
An icon
Where are you?
The Party
Did you mention anyone?
Minerva, Dorian, Gen, Alex, and Morrigan
Who are you talking to?
SLinky and Buzz and Jesse
And, like, tagging?
@Kio.exe Soap Soap sunshineysoul sunshineysoul
Que vas a hacer contigo mismo = What are you going to do with yourself?
¡A Disney! = To Disney!
It was difficult for Simone to miss the sudden awkward energy in the atmosphere. Most of it came from Alex, sure, but it was around the other two, as well. She didn't know what caused it. Maybe it was how Alex went quiet or the arrival of the new girl. Or maybe it was SImone having a momentary ghetto moment in which she contemplated bashing in poor Dani's head into the kitchen counter because she didn't like the way she was looking at one of her best girls.

Simone really? Que vas a hacer contigo mismo?

She had to mentally check herself. And when she had stated which department she was in and Alex just stated the rest, she found herself fixating on Alex's features. The way she smiled and seemed to have a cute tell, her lips curling into the slightest smile. Her brown eyes glimmering in the artificial light that did nothing to take away from her oval face and, honestly, if she knew just how gorgeous she was, she could rule this school if she wanted to. But maybe it was a good thing because Simone could very well be content with coming to her aid if she needed an abrasive asshat to be dealt with.

At some point during the time frame she had allowed herself to get lost in her own thoughts, Simone must've not heard when Alex made the decision to do shots, but she put the pieces of that particular puzzle together in a series of swift glances around the group. She, of course, was trying to see what their facial reactions to Alex's suggestion. Satisfied, Simone returned to her friend's face and the sight of tequila lit up that nostalgic fire in her and she was the first one to take the shot.

Simone grew up in a traditional Mexican family and her very famous Papi was, in a lot of ways, true to his roots. And in that very same way, the laws of the world didn't necessarily apply to her, especially when it came to drinking. She took her first shot of tequila when she was thirteen. So when she saw Alex wince from the shot, the girl let out a chuckle. "Too much for you, Alex?" She laughed again as she raised her shot glass. "¡A Disney!" She exclaimed excitedly and downed her shot without breaking a swear or her gaze with Alex, no lime wedge required.





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"Do one thing a day that scares you..."
Madelaine Harlow
@MaddieModels has set status:
"Let's let loose and have fun."

@MaddieModels has set outfit to:
demon, not devil bc jj is an idea theif. see, added some wings.

@MaddieModels set location to:
apartment to party

@MaddieModels interacted with:
corey

@MaddieModels has tagged:
natsukashii natsukashii
Madelaine was happy that she and Corey had decided to come to this party rather than sit at home binging on cartoons. Not that she didn't love their movie nights because they had always been the highlight of her week but it just felt good to get out and be in a new setting. Thank god, for him joining her because it was generally the only way her parents didn't object.

Her parents had loved Corey since the day they met him and honestly, he had been one of the few friends that her mother, in particular, approved of. They went on and on about how he was a great influence and that he was so nice and they should date... It wasn't the first time they tried to push a friend on Maddie as more. If they saw something that would benefit her image or just in general they pushed for it.

Usually, that meant her becoming friends with people she wasn't that fond of but she and Corey had clicked since day one. He was her closest friend and practically knew everything about her. From what her go-to movie snack was to her favorite song. They were looked at as opposites sometimes but their friendship just worked. It was like they balanced each other out in all the best ways.

Making her way to the drink table with Corey right behind her she realized they only really had beers and soda set out which truth be told, wasn't her idea of a drink tonight. Maddie had never been the type to get overly wasted at parties, it just wasn't her thing but she could use a stronger drink tonight. At least one. After the Twitter disaster between herself, Javi and Gus. God. She was just trying to help! Even if they didn't believe it, she cared about them and they just-

“Good old sprite for me.” Corey's voice snapped her out of her own mind, thankfully. “Want one? Or you gonna go for a beer instead?”

"I think I'll find something stronger in the kitchen. You know, I think Gen has a game room. Maybe we can play pool or one of those arcade games after I make a drink?" she suggested with a smile.

She didn't really give him much time to answer or follow as she ventured into the kitchen, which was really only a few steps away. Eventually, the brunette managed to find a decent bottle of vodka on the counter which she started to mix into a solo cup along with cranberry juice. That should help enough.

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Hunter Drake
How are you feeling?
assuming direct control
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 ohdittoh
Russian Roulette was a funny game, Hunter thought as he opened up the door and uncertain what to make of what he was looking at.

The game itself had the same premise as spin the bottle and playing with a magic 8-ball. Of course, in the case of the former, the danger of dying was incredible high. You spun the berral of a revolver with only one bullet and took your chances. Hunter's knowledge of this came during a history lesson from his father. His father, who may shock many, had an extensive knowledge abotu guns and especially the fun party games he and his brothers played when they were kids.

Hunter, apparently, had no shot in being safe from ridicule if his friends ever found out this neat tidbit about his father.

Anyway, moving on. Hunter's mind was playing its own game of Russian Roulette. And life itself was playing the same game with him, because had Hunter considered any and all possibilities, scenarios, and wacky positions he might've found Nickie in, sitting on the toilet, looking like she had just puked, which he had hoped wasn't the case and that she just took the most intense dump of her life and that's why the color in her skin seemed to be a sickly, pale color.

Still, this wasn't exactly how he expected his night to go. Maybe a little dancing and, if things aligned, getting lucky. Not that he expected anything, but hey! Hunter could fantasize, right?

"Hey, Nicks..." Hunter's voice trailed off into something of an awkward glance as he walked in slowly (though with wide steps) and closed the door behind him. "What's going on? You better now?"

As Hunter's words left his mouth, the neon sign that told him his answer left Nickie's.

I guess that's a no.

Hunter rushed to the cabinet behind him and pulled out a hefty towel that was soft to the touch. It was white and in the back of his mind, he knew Gen wouldn't be happy, but fuck her right now! She isn't here and clearly, Nickie needed it more than Genevieve needed her towels to be clean.

As Hunter rushed to her side, he slid the towel on the floor and under the gap between the toilet and sink "Okay, get on your knees--" Hunter stopped himself from saying anything more as he realized what said might be taken as. "--I mean, put your knees on the towel so you have something soft to kneel on and just keep your head over the bucket. Trust me."

Hunter wished he could say he didn't have experience with this sort of thing, but again, his very responsible father, Jackson Drake, was one big party animal and Hunter has been down this rodeo before.




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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:
Eli, Dorian, Lucky

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh ​
Was he fucking serious right now?

He was a freaking hypocrite -- preaching about how she didn't tell him anything when he did the exact same thing. Was he fucking blind? Hadn't he just... he had just brushed off all of tonight's events, claiming he was fine, when he clearly wasn't and now he was mad at her because he thought she was doing the exact same thing. Which she clearly wasn't, alright? There was nothing to talk about. It was unimportant. Dumb. Stupid.

However, the good part about this? It was spinning now towards how Ash had expected it to go -- yelling, fighting. That's where it was headed and she much preferred that to just tense silence. Because at least now he was looking at her, and at least now he was talking to her, which meant that she could actually... do something with this.

She could respond.

"Are you..." her eyebrows crinkled together, a small huff of disbelief exhaling from her lungs as she shook her head. Ash brought her hands up, tangling her fingers into her hair as she just kept shaking her head, trying to figure out where to even start with Trevor's hypocritical fucking statements, and his ridiculous apology, and his... his...

God, he was pissing her off.

The tears had dried up in her eyes just to be replaced by cold anger that mirrored his own.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She said, her voice low as she stared at him in disbelief. Her hands dropped away from her head, wrapping around her stomach as she leaned forward.

"So I'm just supposed to trust whatever the fuck you say, even though I know you're lying, but you can't do the same for me?" Ash asked. She leaned heavily back against the house, wincing as her head smacked into the wall, which just added to the throbbing in her hand and to sour her attitude even further.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

What kind of fucked up double standards were these?

She broke eye contact with him and looked back towards the sky, her head slamming back against the wall. The stars, normally something that brought her peace and comfort, now just felt as if they were taunting her.

"And I knew you were pissed about the Eli thing -- I knew it. But you said 'don't worry about it, it's fine, whatever.' Look," her voice was unusually harsh and cold for the small blonde who, well, usually was the opposite of harsh and cold. "I'm sorry, but Eli and I don't keep anything from each other. He told me about dating Charlie, and even if I tried to keep it secret, he would've figured it out. Fuck, Trevor, half the reason I even stayed for that stupid date was because he thought I should."

This was stupid. This was all... it was all... why had she even thought this would be a good idea? Not dating Trevor -- she still thought that was a good idea, even if they were sitting here on this dumb balcony yelling at each other -- but the whole keeping it secret. She knew, she knew, just how bad of an idea it was.

Ash couldn't keep a secret to save her life, except she had kept Dorian a secret from everyone -- even Eli -- so why hadn't she been able to keep Trevor a secret from Eli?

Here she was, lying through her teeth about never keeping secrets from Eli. But Dorian had been different. There had been more riding on that, more riding on keeping that a secret. He was... friends with too many people she kept close, namely Jace, but also Gen, JJ... Maddie... so she'd kept that secret and she intended to keep it until she died.

So why had she broken and told Eli so quickly about Trevor?

It had literally been the night of that she'd told him. She hadn't even been able to wait a day, or a few hours, or anything of the sort. It had been right away. No hesitation.

Because she'd been excited.

God, she was an idiot.

"Look I'm not going to start telling you everything and keeping no secrets unless you do the same for me," she snapped. And now, fuck, now her eyes were pricking again with tears, but her voice didn't waver or soften and her anger didn't subside.

"This isn't working," she stated the obvious, but it stung when she tossed it out there -- when the words made it real. "So what do you want to do? Do you just want to go tell everybody that we're dating? Because this didn't work for Charlie and Eli, and this didn't work for--" she faltered, cutting herself off from mentioning Dorian (seriously, she was a horrible secret keeper).

"Or are you just going to get pissed every time a guy talks to me?"

Was she downplaying the whole thing with Lucky? The very thing that had started this entire argument?

Yeah, maybe.
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nickie abrams
you've just gotta keep on, keep on.​
How are you feeling?
...
What are you wearing?
Peace! Love! I fucking need both.
Where are you?
Gen's place.
Did you mention anyone?
N/A.
Who are you talking to?
Hunter.
And, like, who are tagging, exactly?
natsukashii natsukashii
Can I get a tl;dr?
Nickie pukes and then apologizes.
Nauseated.

Hunter made her nauseated.

Nickie loved him. She loved him so much that it physically nauseated her to see his face when she lied to him.

And here he was, comforting her, sliding a towel beneath her knees and trying to be helpful to her as she literally vomited because of him.

“Th—“ she started shakily, but her body was quickly overtaken by another convulsion. The tears in her eyes came back, and her sides ached. She sniffled once the wave passed, squeezing her eyes shut and holding her stomach. “Th-Thanks,” she said shakily, her voice echoing in the bowl before she leaned her head back and sat up.

She picked up the corner of the towel, lowering her face to it to wipe off her mouth and cursing herself for how gross that was. It was better than looking at her…she didn’t know what he was to her at this point, but it was better than looking at him with the expulsions of her stomach stuck to her lips, which would be make this situation even more…

Embarrassing.

She felt her face heat up, and she brought her cold hands to her cheeks. They were hot to the touch, and she sighed softly.

She wasn’t alone in the room, she remembered again, and she felt another wave of nausea as she recalled who was in there with her.

She couldn’t puke in front of him. That was gross and embarrassing, and—

Another convulsion rocked her body, interrupting her thoughts, and then she coughed, her watery eyes threatening to release a tear.

Deep breaths…

She sniffled, lifting her head from the bowl again and wiping her lips on the corner of the towel once more.

“Thanks,” she repeated in a wavering voice, eyes hesitantly going to look at Hunter. She felt a touch of nausea again upon seeing his face, and she put her hand to the cold tile to cool off again.

She wasn’t going to puke again. She’d embarrassed herself enough already.

She sniffled, consciously trying to keep the hot tears in her eyes from spilling over her lower lid.

“S-Sorry I ran off like that.” She rubbed beneath her eyes with the hand that wasn’t on the ground, her eyes flicking away and to the handle of the toilet, which she slowly reached up to pull. She looked away from it and to the tiles as the noise of the flushing blared in her ears.

And then…silence.

She wanted to puke again, but she pressed her free hand to her stomach, refusing to let her nausea win over her.

Deep breaths…

The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over.

He hated her…damn it, he had to hate her.

He’d confessed, and she’d just…she’d just noped out to go vomit.

“Sorry…,” she mumbled again, sniffling as her shoulders shook and forcing a small smile.

No. Crying.

She squeezed her eyes shut, releasing a tense breath.

No…crying…
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TREVOR CALLAGHAN
@callaghansome has set his status to:
What the fuck?!

@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:
Eli, Charlie, and that guy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:
Trevor, uh, well...just read it. I can't even try to explain it.
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Trevor stared at his girlfriend in disbelief, the brows over his glaring eyes knitting together as his upper lip lifted in an expression of something near disgust.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

He didn’t even know what to say— what the hell was she going on about?

His posture was frozen, his brows knitting tighter and unknitting slightly as she listened to her yell at him— fucking yelling at him.

He didn’t want to hear her. He wanted to just be able to look at her and turn off the audio and just fucking ignore that all of this was happening.

He could act like what she was saying was some kind of big fucking joke, and goddamn it, he wanted to. He wanted to fucking laugh in her face, to do what he did to Chas, to see her face—

He felt a pang in his head as he stopped himself from thinking that.

What was he going to fucking think?

He wanted to see her cry?

He didn’t want to fucking see her hurt.

That was the whole fucking reason that he had started talking to her— because she’d started to fucking cry, because he couldn’t handle her crying— and it was why he was so pissed at her now, right—

He didn’t want to see her hurt.

But god fucking damn it, he did.

At least then, she wouldn’t be fucking jumping down his throat for what she called hypocrisy.

He wanted to slam his head against a wall so forcibly that it delivered him blunt force trauma.

He wanted more alcohol, and he wanted to drink that alcohol until he blacked out— because apparently he didn’t have any fucking weed.

His nerves were shot— he was shaking.

His head was pounding.

He wanted to jump off of a fucking cliff.

Fucking bullshite— this was all fucking bullshite.

What had he come out here to do? Be alone.

He didn’t want to be alone together with anyone.

When Trevor was alone and pissed, he did one of four things:

1. Punch things and injure himself because he wasn’t fucking strong enough to do any damage to anyone except for himself.

2. Write and then rip up the pages that he wrote because nothing fucking looked right and then end up breaking all of his good pens.

3. Smoke and drink himself to oblivion, until he lost contact with all of his limbs.

4. Cry.

He didn’t know which of the four he wanted to do right now—

Or if he wanted to do all of them—

Fucking all of them. That was the answer.

He couldn’t stand this.

He couldn’t fucking take this.

His chest was burning, and his veins were burning from the burning of his chest.

He clenched his jaw.

What she was saying was so hypocritical was literally what she was fucking doing. He didn’t want to hear it— fucking hypocrisy had to start from somewhere, and it wasn’t him. If she had a problem with him being hypocrital— which fuck that shite— then she shouldn’t’ve been doing what he was so fucking mad about in the first place. If she didn’t do it, then he wouldn’t have to fucking—

He wouldn’t have anything to be fucking hypocritical about.

He didn’t know what her problem was. All he’d wanted to do was come out here and calm down— come out here and calm down and be calm and be all zen and stare out at the stars and maybe do a bit of self-reflection that ended in him concluding that he was right all along because he always fucking was— and now, here they were, and she was lying and yelling and he was lying and trying his best not to yell, even though they were a couple and even though they were supposed to be good and trusting and caring and—

Fuck. This was what he’d meant.

This was what he’d meant by that countdown to when it all went to shit.

What was the count on that?

Eight days.

Heh.

Eight feckin’ fuckin’ days.

New record.

At the mention of Charlie and Eli’s relationship, Trevor’s body tensed up.

Oh, yeah, because that secret shite had gone so well with Eli and Charlie.

Oh, yeah, because that secret had been so well-kept and when it got out, nothing bad came of that whatso-fucking-ever.

Oh, yeah, because that was something that she needed to fucking bring into this conversation— the whole bitter breakup between the two of their’s sibling figures.

Oh, yeah, that was fucking genius.

Oh, yeah, she needed to keep fucking talking.

Oh, yeah—

Fucking shut up.

He looked away, blowing long streams of air out of his mouth as he tried to contain himself.

He focused on his wig, which scooted away as gentle breezes passed, and he scowled at it, taking out all of his anger on it as he imagined himself cutting it up with scissors and tossing it off of the balcony.

Halloween was fucking stupid, anyway.

Her words were cold, and her voice was angry, and it was just fucking pissing him off—

What right did she have to be fucking angry about all of this? It was all her fault.

Oh, would you look at that? She was fucking right about her being the problem— which meant that he was also fucking right from the very beginning.

What a shocker.

“Fuck, Trevor, half the reason I even stayed for that stupid date was because he thought I should."

His eyes flicked to her, an unbridled anger written in them that couldn’t have even been described in words beyond absolute, undiluted rage and disgust.

She’d fucking said that.

Would Trevor had stayed on that date had it not been for Charlie? No.

But he didn’t just fucking go throwing it around.

His eyes flicked away, his jaw clenching tighter.

“This isn’t working.”

A pang shot through his aching head.

Yeah. Fucking state the obvious there…

Ouch.

"So what do you want to do? Do you just want to go tell everybody that we're dating? Because this didn't work for Charlie and Eli, and this didn't work for—“

She went quiet, and he looked at her, face relaxing for a moment as the curiosity of say it— fucking say it washed over him.

"Or are you just going to get pissed every time a guy talks to me?"

His face immediately crumbled.

“Fuck off.”

He couldn’t catch the words before they came out of his mouth, and he didn’t even want to take them back. They had been cold, unfeeling, and seething, and he didn’t even fucking care.

She had the fucking audacity to say that— to downplay his fucking emotions like that. To act like he was just doing it just because he could do it— like it didn’t matter— like everything he said didn’t matter.

Talking to her was like talking to a fucking brick wall.

He stared at her for a second, silent again, all of the words that he wanted to say but didn’t have the balls to hanging over their heads and all of his anger that he was holding back for her fucking sake— for her sake, goddamn it— glaring at her in its hostile way.

The air between them was tense.

Trevor was shutting off again.

He couldn’t fucking deal with it.

He knew what to say, but he also didn’t.

He knew what to do, but he also didn’t.

He knew every single move to make— every move that he wanted to make— but he also didn’t know anything at all.

He hated not knowing what to do.

It fucking pissed him off more than anything.

Not knowing what to do— not having a grasp on where conversations and arguments led—

He just fucking…

…couldn’t.

Oh, just...

Whatever.

He let out a sigh, slowly rising to his feet, and he turned away from Ash, silently walking back to the balcony.

He looked back down at the ground.

There were no blurs there anymore.

There was just fucking nothing.

The air was still, and the tension was so palpable that it could have been cut with little more than a sharp sewing needle.

Trevor was silent for a long second, and then, quietly, he muttered, “Just fuck right off.”

He didn’t want to hear her anymore.

He didn’t want to see her anymore.

He just wanted to be alone.

He just.

Wanted.

To be.

Alone.
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Elias Johannes
@elithegreat has set their status to:
oh hell yeah

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
how many of us are there?

@elithegreat has set their location to:
underneath the tree

@elithegreat has mentioned:
ash, a bunch of others in passing

@elithegreat has interacted with:
Jan

@elithegreat has tagged:
sunshineysoul sunshineysoul
There were a few things that had happened that Elias had not anticipated occuring that night. Climbing the tree in his backyard and then subsequently falling face first out of said tree had come from the left field. Then there was the random surge of confidence that had drawn him in to kiss Jan, yet another uncharacteristic surprise. Even his little joke about ‘falling’ for her was a little too quick and a little too clever than his usual lighthearted jabs.

Part of Eli fully expected that Jan was going to slap him for kissing her unannounced or for her to just get up and walk away even though every sign had told him to do it. Even after he had fallen and Jan had come to his side, he half expected for her to blow up. Anyone watching the scene from the outside would not have had the same interpretation of Jan’s actions but with his fading confidence and aching nose, Eli was forgetting all logic.

But then she was kissing him again and everything felt okay. Sure, his heart was racing faster than an awkward middle schooler’s during their first slow dance and yeah, he felt like he was gonna pass out a little, but none of that mattered. Even though his face was still dully throbbing with pain, he brought his hands around Jan’s waist and pulled her in, silently asking for the moment to continue. It took everything in him not to groan dramatically when she pulled away as Eli pulled his arms from around her torso.

"That's sweet and all, but please stop falling out of trees. It'd be hard to kiss you if you're in the hospital with a broken face." Eli burst out into laughter and collapsed backwards onto the grass, his left leg straightening out while his right leg stayed bent.

“Oh ha ha. Laugh at my misfortune, sweetheart, I get it.” Eli teased, his head tilting back before his eyes closed. “But hey, at least I know there’ll be a next time.”

Elias fell quiet, trying to stop his mind from reeling inside his skull. He wished it was possible to capture a moment forever, filming it like a movie without a camera so he could relive it over and over again. Though Eli remembered that episode of Black Mirror and instantly regretted the idea. Better to just live in the moment and create the memory for himself.

Man, he couldn’t wait to tell Ash.

He wondered where she had run off to earlier and why, if you watched and listened very closely, she seemed to be on edge. It likely had something to do with Trevor and their relationship which, albeit brand spankin’ new, seemed to have increased the amount of stress in Ash’s life. Sometimes she seemed happy with them being together but other times, Eli caught her nervously biting her lip as she read text messages on her phone. Eli felt bad for snooping but more than once, he saw Trevor’s name at the top of the screen while that very expression of worry plagued her face.

And then, of course, there was Gen. She was somewhere in the house, plastered on alcohol from under Ash’s bed. She was refusing to open the door, refusing to listen to any reason. Gen was hurting more than Eli had seen before, her carefully constructed walls torn down to the earth with just a few words on a screen. Elias wanted nothing more than to be able to help her, to be able to do or say something that would make everything feel better. But, outside of tearing into Liv or Mike (which he certainly was not about to do), there was absolutely nothing. Besides, Eli couldn’t help but think that Gen was a bit wrong in the situation. She had left for Italy with Adriane and barely had broken up with Liv before she was forcing herself to move on. But that was Gen. She fucked up and refused to see it. But this time, Eli was certain that Gen knew every mistake she had made, hence why she was so upset.

Eli sat back up rather suddenly, his hands falling behind him to prop himself up. No, he wasn’t going to worry about them. It was rare that Eli put himself or his happiness first. Usually, every happy moment was bogged down with his worries and responsibilities. But not this time, Eli deserved to be fucking happy for once.

“Come here,” Eli spoke quietly, wrapping his arm around Jan’s shoulders before falling backwards again so that Jan was laying on the front of his shoulder, looking up at the stars with his arm wrapped around her. Once again, Eli went quiet, his mind wandering to every happy memory he could conjure up with Jan. Smiling warmly, Eli took a deep breath and allowed himself to relax.

“So, uh, do you remember me telling you about the whole dance studio thing?” Eli asked, his eyes tracing the paths of the constellations. “Well, I got the full approval from the school. I get to go see it tomorrow. The place is a dilapidated dump but I really think that I can turn it around with a little elbow grease.”

Reaching into his pocket, Eli freed his phone and moved to his camera roll, pulling up the photos of the dance studio to show Jan. It was a squat building, the main room lined with broken mirrors and chipped yellow paint, the floor tiles cracking and popping up in the centre of the room. Clearly the studio had been well-loved in its prime, filled with keen dancers and enthusiastic teachers and rhythmic music, long since abandoned to ruins in the city.

“I’m gonna do everything I can to fix it up. The catch is that I only have until a month before graduation. Six months isn’t a whole lot of time.” Eli continued, locking the screen and lodging the phone down on his stomach. “But I think I can do it. I’ve never been so excited about something before. Well, uh, just now was pretty damn exciting. But career wise? This takes the cake. I’ve always wanted to do something like this and I am just so pumped that I get the chance to actually see this project through. Let’s just hope I don’t fuck it up.”

º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: halloweiner

OUTFIT: princess fit courtesy of tou lolololol

LOCATION: gen/eli's place
basics
MENTIONS:
Gen

INT:
@Kio.exe (Kane)
Soap Soap (JJ)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Javier Cervantes
"But what if I did?" Javi countered, teasingly fiddling with the straps of his dress. His fingers tingled slightly, and he couldn't help but wiggle them around like little writhing snakes in front of his face. He lowered his hand and absentmindedly tapped on Kane's arm, his fingers forming a little guy traveling up to his shoulder. He laughed stupidly, his breaths coming out in a low "heheheh".

Kane's hands felt like the delicate touch of a weaver, spinning and tracing his tangled curls. If that wasn't enough of a massage, the heat his friend was radiating soothed him into an even deeper state of relaxation. His tired eyes followed Kane's hand as he relocated the bottle to the coffee table, smiling fondly at his gentleness and consideration for the quality of Gen's furniture. Only Kane would be thinking of others, even as he lovingly looked down at Javi's restful face.

"Fuuuuck dude, my fucking stomach hurts," he groaned, squeezing his eyes tight irritably. His stomach burned. This always happened; he'd drink a ton at once feel awful afterward, but at least the euphoria made up for it. The olive-skinned boy let out a soft grunt, nestling more comfortably onto Kane's chest. He groaned a little louder when Kane lifted his head, his squinting eyes a dead giveaway of his inebriation.

He focused his eyes on the kind eyes staring back at him, putting on a more puzzled face when his name was said. "Whaat?" he slurred, contemplating kissing him right there. When Kane changed his mind, he merely nodded and lowered his head back to the boy's chest, uttering quietly, "Okay."

Juliette's sudden presence came as a surprise to Javier, but at this point he was going with the flow too much to think anything of it. "Hey there, beautiful," he greeted her suavely, his absolutely plastered face as goofy as ever, "You come to see 'Ol Ja-" He shut his trap immediately as she shushed him, watching her dubiously as she lifted his phone off the couch. She came off so nonchalant, despite coming all the way here just to talk up Javier himself.

Javi hardly batted an eye as his thumb was lifted (in an enticingly gingerly fashion, might I add) to unlock his phone. He chuckled amusedly, although there was confusion smeared all over his disoriented face. "What're you doing?" he slurred, his giggling growing in volume and frequency by the minute.

His question would remain unanswered after Juliette fled the scene, leaving a painful sensation right on Javi's crotch. The alcohol did little to numb the pain as he lurched forward, instinctively clutching his most sensitive area. "Ah, fuck!" he yelped, momentarily sounding more sober than he'd been all night, "Wh-where the fuck did she go...?" He squinted and looked around, the lights all around him burning his eyes.

He defeatedly sunk back into Kane, forgetting very quickly what had just transpired. He snuggled back up to his tall friend, his head resting right on his chest and his arm wrapped all the way around to his shoulder. "Of course I went trick-or-treating, you moron," he muttered, just loud enough to be heard by close-by ears, "Everyone goes trick-or-treating as a kid." He giggled again, this time as if Kane had said the most ridiculous, outlandish joke Javier had ever heard.

"Now, I'm not so much a fan of my mom and dad," he started, his words long, drawn out, and just a tad difficult to understand, "But that's one thing they always made sure I got to do. Biggest part of being a kid is to be able to just be ridiculous n' ask for shit n' whatever. Hell, some of us are almost grown an' we still play pretend every damn day."
code by valen t.
 
"Stop taking life so seriously..."
Dorian Harlow
@FindingDori has set status to:
"Do you need some ICEcream for that?"

@FindingDori has set outfit to:
Hot, now hatless, pirate.

@FindingDori has set location to:
Minnie's car.

@FindingDori has interacted with:
Minnie.

@FindingDori has tagged:
sunshineysoul sunshineysoul
"I may not know enough about pirates, but I'm definitely being taken hostage against my own will."

Dorian let a grin settle onto his face but before he could reply she made a comment about his hat or lack of. "I had a hat, I just gave it away for the greater good. Besides, hat hair is no one's friend, right? I think my devilish charm could still secure me a win," he chuckled, joking back with her. Hey. Jace was definitely more in need of that hat than he was, okay? Plus, he was at least top 10 when it came to costumes tonight.

As he drove the car towards the nearest ice cream place with a drive-thru, he didn't touch the radio or ask questions. Dorian was well aware that Minnie hadn't had a second to even gather her thoughts between punching Saint and him going after her so he figured she could use it. He wasn't going to let her get away without talking at all though. Whether she wanted to or not, she needed to get things off her chest. It was clear that whatever was messing with her was eating away at her.

Sure, he and Minnie had never been close but they were friends. Even before he'd known how close she was to Gen he'd considered her such. They'd first met when she was trying to turn a book into a movie and he auditioned for the lead. They spent a bit of time together reading lines and him asking questions about her book and stuff, he liked her vibe. So here he was, trying to pry into her personal life. Not for gossip or personal gain but because he actually cared enough to make sure she was okay.

After a while Dorian decided it was safe to speak up, glancing in her direction briefly before letting his eyes shift back to the road. "I'm no expert but I'm pretty sure that something is weighing heavy on your mind and don't bother saying it's nothing because I'm not buying that. I gotta warn you, Minnie, I can be pretty persistent so it's not gonna do you any good to try and push the subject away," he told her, keeping his tone light-hearted.

"Besides, unless you plan on jumping out...there really is no escape," he continued with a teasing grin. The least he could do while trying to pry was to make sure that he wasn't too pushy in a rude way, right? Jokes were Dorian's obvious go-to. "Come on. I've been told I'm an okay listener," he added as they turned onto the main road nearing the ice cream place.
º º code by ditto º º
 
HAND OVER HAND

Oh, shit. Seb had completely forgotten that he’d agreed to that drink with Landon in an attempt to be... he didn’t even know. Social, maybe? No, he was already kind of social. Landon was nice, most of the time. When he wasn’t blatantly flirting with Seb just to try and upset Chas. Maybe Seb could bring that up with Landon. Yeah, just a friendly chat. Nothing to be anxious about. Why were his palms sweaty?

He refrained from making a sound of protest when Chas twisted out of his arms, letting them fall to his side. “Uh... Right. Okay. Yes, okay, Landon,” he mumbled, more to himself than to his boyfriend. Blowing out a quick breath, he plucked Chas’ cup out of his hands and took a quick sip, feeling the need for some liquid courage. He winced as he handed the cup back, the alcohol burning down his throat.

“Remember, I don’t want Landon. This is purely platonic. You’re my boyfriend. You’re what I want. Please don’t worry.” He punctuated his words with a quick press of his lips to Chas’, hoping it would be enough to reassure the shorter boy. “I won’t be long. I lo-“ holy fucking shit, Sebastian, do not bring out the L-word right now, you are absolutely not in the headspace for that. “Um, i-it’ll be fine. Alright. Bye.”

He squeezed Chas’ shoulder affectionately for one moment, and then he was off to find Landon. He had a brief moment of panic when he realised he actually had no idea what Landon’s costume was, and by that point he was far enough from Chas that he know felt like he was just surrounded by strangers who were staring at him and judging him and could they see his heart beating as fast as it was? - Luckily, the boy was surprisingly easy to spot, although it was less surprising when remembering (and seeing) just how tall he was compared to everybody else.

Not allowing himself any time to think about what he was doing, Seb put on his signature smile and made his way over to Landon, deliberately ignoring everybody around them so that he could stay focused. “Landon, hey,” he greeted the taller boy, letting himself look over his costume in what he hoped was the least-sexual once over in history. “Your costume is awesome. Elf, right?”
Sebastian
MOOD: many anxiety

LOCATION: The Johannes Residence

OUTFIT: Black angel costume

INTERACTIONS: hery hery gh0stwriter gh0stwriter

code by valen t.
 

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 ohdittoh ​
Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.

His face crumbled and her heart gave a solid, pained thud in her chest before stilling. It was like everything happened in slow motion, and there was nothing she could do to take back her words, to stop the rapid fire chain of events. Like witnessing a car crash -- all she could do was sit and watch as the inevitable, unavoidable collision happened.

Except that it was avoidable, it could've been inevitable, if she could've just shut her mouth. Kept her opinions to herself. Smothered her anger and her worries and her this and that with a pillow until it was rendered unconscious.

"Fuck off."

His words were harsh and stung -- like a knife being stabbed into her chest, but she couldn't be mad. She couldn't be hurt. She couldn't blame him for it because it was her fault. It had been... if she had just... maybe... if...

Look, it was her fault.

She watched through eyes blurred with tears as Trevor stood up. Ash expected him to leave -- walk out the door, go to his van, go home. Or maybe he'd return to the party, act like nothing had happened and find some random inebriated girl to sleep with. She couldn't blame him if he did either -- she'd get it.

And Ash would just stay up here, on the balcony, because she knew the instant she tried to stand up and walk, she'd have to find a bathroom where she'd spill out the empty contents of her stomach. And then, what? She'd stumble to her room, she'd find the bottle of vodka, or the bottle of tequila, and she'd drink twice as much as she had before until she fell asleep.

That's how she saw the night going, anyway.

But Trevor just headed back to the railing.

Just leave. Walk out and we can pretend like none of this ever happened.

By none of this Ash, of course, meant their entire week of... dating. If he walked out now, that would be basically calling it quits -- at least to her, and they could go back to how they had been before. Or not how they had been before, because that threshold, that blurred line, had been crossed at Homecoming the moment he kissed her.

She wished she could press rewind and go back to that night. She wished she hadn't been talked to going to that stupid party. She wished she had just stuck with her original plans of going home and watching movies with Eli.

The only reason Ash had gone was now standing at the edge of the balcony, refusing to look at her and refusing to talk to her.

She stretched out her left leg while she lazily wrapped her arms around her right. Ash rested her chin on her knee, her teary gaze studying Trevor's thin form.

Ash closed her eyes and tried to take in a deep breath, but her lungs rattled and shook and she had to press her mouth against her knee to stop herself from coughing. Her breaths returned to the quiet, shallow, shuddering that made her hands shake and made her head swim and her heart beat faster.

Fuck.

She rested there -- unmoving, unspeaking, trying desperately to cease existing. She was cold -- her fingers felt like ice, and she curled her hands into fists. All she really wanted was to stop feeling so alone -- she wanted to find Eli, or Gen, or Cap, or Hunter, or even freaking JJ, and she wanted to be able to cry and breakdown and have someone hug her and tell her that it would be alright.

Because right now, it didn't feel like anything would ever be alright again.

She'd been walking on thin ice, and now the ice had cracked and it had plunged Ash into its icy depths and no matter how much she pounded at the ice, she couldn't break through and now she was just going to suffocate and die from the cold water filling her lungs.

"Trevor..."

Her voice cracked and shattered and she gave up.

He wanted her to talk, but he didn't want to listen. He wanted her to tell the truth, but he didn't want to acknowledge it.

Yeah, Ash knew that maybe she should just get up and leave. But she also knew that if she stood up and left, she wouldn't be coming back -- and no, she didn't mean just back to the balcony.

And as much as it hurt, and as stupid as it seemed, and as dumb as she felt, she still -- stupidly -- just wanted her boyfriend to turn around and acknowledge her.
º º code by ditto º º
 

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 ohdittoh ​
This was dumb. This was unbelievably stupid. A million different ideas of how he could potentially fall from the banister and to his death -- or, if he was lucky, he'd just break his neck -- started casting themselves about in his thoughts.

Sure, the balcony seemed to be holding up Lin, but Lin was still a few inches shorter and smaller than Zeph. He was fairly certain that if he hung from the banister in the same manner that his new brosband was, he'd surely break the banister or the balusters and go tumbling to his doom because certainly these weren't made with the idea of "yeah, these can definitely support the weight of a 6'2", 170 pound high school sophomore who was dared to hang upside down."

He. Was. Going. To. Die.

He gave an uncomfortable laugh.

This wasn't how he wanted to die.

But hey, like Zeph always thought when he was faced with these near death situations (or, well, like he'd thought when Mike had slammed his face into a bathroom counter and Zeph had really thought he was going to die -- other than that, coloring in the lines meant he wasn't usually faced with the idea of dying), at least he didn't have to say goodbye to his mother for long.

Alright.

He sucked in a deep breath and swung his leg back over the banister. Zeph grabbed the dumb hat from the top of his hat and tossed it by Mitsubishi. "If I die, you're the new Ash tonight," he whispered to the dog before he started to copy Lin's movement but thought better of it when he remembered his gloves. They didn't have the greatest grip, so he set the bottle of soda on the ground so he could pull off the gloves and toss them to the ground beside Mitsu.

Then he picked the bottle back up, he hooked his feet around the baluster...

He sucked in a deep breath that he truly thought was going to be his last...

And then he closed his eyes and fell backwards.

Hesitantly, he dared to open his eyes and was met with some of those bat decorations now at eye level. But hey, he wasn't dead, and that was something. He shifted slightly and he felt the banister wobble. Zeph's heart stilled for a moment and his stomach did flips, but now there was the adrenaline of being upside down pumping in his veins.

Slight adrenaline, anyway.

This was... this was fun.

He turned to look towards Lin, who looked absolutely ridiculous -- dangling upside down with his wig hanging from his scalp. Maybe the pain and the added weight would make it harder for Lin to win.

What if the marshmallows he'd eaten mixed with the upside pop and Lin ended up puking all over the crowd below them? What if the pop went up Zeph's nose and he had to spit it out? What if he dropped the bottle and accidentally coated some of those less than clothed girls in purple soda and knocked someone out?

This was dangerous. This was dumb. This was... this was exhilarating.

"Alright," he craned his neck up to try and halt the flow of blood. It didn't work. His arms dangled down, the purple soda lazily hanging from between two fingers that were loosely holding the bottle. "I'm ready to see you lose."

He unscrewed the top of the bottle (which was much harder when you were upside down), and then he looked back over at Lin.

"Ready." Zeph said and waited for his new friend to give the go ahead.
º º code by ditto º º
 
Oates Oates
" podcasts, amirite? "

@bigO has set their status to:
tall and spooky

@bigO has set their outfit to:
costume

@bigO has set their location to:
gen's house

@bigO has mentioned:
callum, rome, liv, kian, kelli, ronnie

mogy mogy has mentioned:
hery hery , ohdittoh ohdittoh , geminiy geminiy
😎
😎
"He does, but he's going through a rough patch right now, and I want to be there for him, you know?" Oates stated, this time raising the volume of his voice instead of leaning in closer to Callum like he previously did. Though it seemed as if Callum disliked the idea of Oates hanging out with anybody else but him, it was the cheap cost of going from a relationship to a friendship. Plus, this was a sure way for Callum to go out there and make some more friends, or, at least, hang out with his existing friends—whoever those mystery people might be.

"I will, haha. This party is just getting started." Oates reassured Callum, the smile on his face hidden by the plastic mask, but the boy's kooky stance encouraging of its existence.

It was an obvious thing from Callum's own stance that this agreement between the two didn't really fit all that well with him—with his crossed arms and his eyes basically rolled all the way back into his head, it just reminded Oates of every single fight the two ever had. However, it wasn't like Oates was wrong for wanting to have fun, right? Essentially, he wasn't entirely ditching Callum, having full intentions of coming back right after he filled up his social battery by talking to the people he considered his friends.

As soon as Oates said his goodbye to Callum and turned around, he was 100% ready for the party in front of him. His usual walk turned into what could only be described as a sort of slithering that went along with the beats of the loud songs in the background as he made his way through crowds of people in search of any familiar faces. It would've been hard to say that he followed Liv's steps and got lost in the mass of people seeing he was much taller than most of the people there and definitely the one standing out both figuratively and literally, but it was unquestionably cool being able to see everything clearly while still being in the crowd.

The usual hellos from acquaintances disappeared as nobody could be sure it was Oates in the costume...though, it was replaced by compliments on the idea for his costume and the execution of the before-mentioned. Oates would've been lying if he said it didn't make him feel nice and special, but he would've also been lying if he said that what he really wanted to see wasn't Rome's face or at least a face of somebody he considered a friend. Who would he have talked to if everybody was already talking to somebody?

A miracle of sorts caught the boy's eyes as he was making his way through another crowd of people having a blast. Although Oates really didn't expect to see this face here, at least not this soon, he certainly didn't expect it would cause him to stop in his tracks, turning him into a Ryuk statue in the middle of the dance floor.

As weird as it sounded, seeing Kian and then Kelli right next to him brought back a lot of memories the boy really didn't know he could recall so fondly as he did. If anything, he was taken aback by seeing his ex-boyfriend and his childhood best friend in flesh and blood just a few feet in front of him. It also took him a moment to collect himself, but the moment he did, he was sprinting to give them hugs.

He first hugged Kian, definitely noticing the muscles which didn't use to be there before. He didn't mind that Kian didn't hug him back, probably surprised by the suddenty of the hug.

"I can't believe it! It's Kian! And he finally tried going to the gym!" He joked after releasing Kian from his tight hug.

Next up was Kelli, who was usually shorter than Oates, so having to bow down even more to give her a proper hug was certainly a weird feeling. This, however, didn't save the girl from also getting a tight rib-crushing hug that ended in a sentence of excitement: "Kells! A skinny legend as always!"

The two were also with another girl, one Oates didn't know, and while he didn't usually hug strangers, he was just really excited to see the Phelans.

"Oh, why the heck not!" The boy exclaimed before then giving the second girl a tight hug.

Of course, if Oates wasn't as excited to see them, he would've probably remembered that all this time he was wearing a mask and that none of them actually knew who he was, but that was the matter for another post.
º º code by dildo º º
 

minerva frost
@minifrostie has set their status to:
*annoyed minnie noises*

@minifrostie has set their outfit to:
Link to outfit.

@minifrostie has set their location to:
in the car, getting ice cream... apparently

@minifrostie has mentioned:
a few people

@minifrostie has interacted with:
dorian

@minifrostie has tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn

@minifrostie has written a tl;dr:
minnie wants to go home

"it's noth-"

"and don't bother saying it's nothing because i'm not buying that."

damnit dorian. minnie's head fell back onto the headrest once again. of all the people that had to follow her out to her car, it had to be dorian. it couldn't have been evie or gen or hell even alex or ash, it had to be dorian.

minnie didn't consider them close, but to be fair, minnie didn't consider herself close with almost anyone. they had met before she wrote the third and final book in her trilogy; she had jumped the gun on wanting to turn her first book into a movie, and she came across dorian. he seemed perfect for one of her characters so she worked with him for a small script between the two of them to basically "audition" for some producers and big shots in the movie industry.

that alone caused them to get to know each other, they soon found out that they both knew gen, and the friendship just kinda started. and sure there were a lot of late night talks but it was never anything deep, always about the plot & making sure the script was good in movie terms. but the day when her movie idea was rejected, she was crushed. and as much as she wanted to shut the world out and just internalize everything, dorian forced her to talk. one thing led to another and minnie was damn near breaking everything in her apartment, yelling and screaming about how much effort went into her work just for them to dismiss her.

and there was dorian, handing her yet another plate to smash.

there was something about the way dorian wasn't too harsh or too soft or too judgemental or too accepting that made it easy to talk to him. and minnie never even realized who she was talking to or what she was saying until after the fact. whenever gen or evie tried to talk to her when she was upset, there was a lot of tough love, a lot of "suck it up and deal with it" talk. and most days, it worked. most days it forced minnie to shove everything down and just deal with it, to stop being such a whiny baby. but dorian would listen to her, validate her feelings, and somehow still found a way to say "what're you going to do about it".

which is exactly why she dreaded this car ride. she knew dorian was able to get her to talk, especially when she didn't want to talk to anyone.

"unless you plan on jumping out, there's really no escape."

minnie's mind wandered to the option as she looked out the window.

we're not going that terrible fast, we're still in a residential area. if i hold my busted up hand close to me and if i can just tuck and roll, i pop up and just run the other way. i don't like that far, right? dart through some backyards, he'd never find me.

minnie he knows where you live.

and you're in your car.

damnit

one of the stupider ideas minnie had had, but she just didn't want to talk. but she was also too mentally exhausted to try and fight anyone. she sat there, silent for a bit. was she figuring out her words? was she measuring pros and cons of opening up to dorian? was she just wasting time?

doesn't matter, she eventually started talking. like he said, she didn't really have much of a choice.

"seriously, it's nothing. saint's just being an ass. what, you don't think he deserved a punch to the face?" she felt her eyes rolling, hoping they could focus on the saint situation and that she wouldn't have to say anything about her distain for halloween or anything about her father.
º º code by ditto º º
 
TREVOR CALLAGHAN
@callaghansome has set his status to:
........

@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:
Eli, Charlie, and that guy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:
Self-loathing: Live and Aloud Edition!
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Trevor stared out at the black nothing, the anger pounding in his head and his heart throbbing out of his chest as his mind raced with thoughts that he could hardly understand beyond that they were furious and confused.

He was pissed. She was pissed. The air was tense. He could hardly breathe.

And he felt like shite, but several different kinds of it, and all at once.

Just…

Just generally fucking terrible.

He hated her, he hated him, and he hated himself, and he couldn’t discipher any of this fucking bullshite.

So he didn’t know what to do except for stand and stare.

He was so mad that he couldn’t think.

He couldn’t see straight.

He couldn’t…

He couldn’t.

“Trevor…”

Her voice cracked as she said his name, and he felt a small, irritating prick in his head.

“Don’t cry.”

It slipped out again, but his voice wasn’t firm or steady or angry or…or anything, really.

He just sounded done.

He sounded tired, he sounded worn out, and he sounded done.

“It’s gettin’ old.”

His voice was muttered, slurred, and he wasn’t even sure if she heard him, and, to be honest, he could care less.

He was drunk, and he was done thinking, because it was too fucking hard, and he was done figuring everything out.

He was just…

Done.

“I’m tired of this,” he mumbled. “I’m jus’…I’m tired of it.”

He sighed out a long breath, closing his eyes.

“Why haven’t you gone already…?”

His hands gripped the balcony.

He didn’t know what he was saying or what he was thinking, and he gave up on knowing.

“Why haven’t you fuckin’ left?”

He opened his eyes, turning back around to look at her and leaning his back against the balcony.

His gaze was confused, his brows knit.

He didn’t get it.

He didn’t get why he hadn’t left—

But he also didn’t get why she hadn’t left.

He laughed slightly, though it was more of a confused scoff.

“That’s wha’ya do af…ter a fight, don’t you…? Run off somewhere an’ cry…?” His words didn’t have any anger behind them now. His voice was just…confused.

He slid his hand across the top of the balcony, looking at her crying figure, unsure of what he felt. “That’s what girls do…or somethin’.” His words were hardly understandable, if at all. “That’s what Charlie did when all that bullshite with Eli happened—…” His brows knit, and he looked down at his feet. “…Is t’at what’s happenin’ wit’ us?” He brought his hand to his face, touching at his eyeliner-scribbled chin absently, his brows knit.

He laughed softly. “It’s…stupid,” he said. “It’s jus’…” He looked up at the sky.

His words trailed off as he lost the words that he didn’t have chosen to begin with.

“What the hell’re we doin’?”

He voiced his thoughts aloud.

“Jus’…what are we doin’?” He looked at her again, face confused as he laughed at his realization. “What the actual hell are we doin’?” he asked again, his voice a bit angrier, and he threw his head back and laughed “goddamn it!”. He laced his hand through his curly, unkempt hair, grasping at his scalp as he laughed in disbelief. “What is this? What is this bullshite?” His face fell, and he dropped his hand. “…bullshite…,” he echoed, word slurred and hardly discernible as language. "Everythin' I said...I jus'..."

He let out a long, slow breath of air.

“All we wanted ta do…all I wanted ta do an’ all you wanted ta do an’ all we wanted ta do…” He chuckled softly, looking at the ground. He shook his head. “A good night…one good night…one night ‘a us jus’…enjoyin’ ourselves…an’ I jus’ had ta go an’ screw it up, didn’t I…?”

He lifted his eyes to her figure again, and this time, his chuckle was sad. His voice was soft, and sad, and…heavy. His brows knit.

“I told you from tha start...”

He took a few unsteady steps back towards her, trying to look in her eyes.

He cracked a small, sad smile. “This is tha worst decision of yer life.”

She couldn’t say that he didn’t warn her.

“I’m a piece of shite…I’m a…hypocrite…I…expect you ta do…this’n that when I can’t even…I jus’…”

He made his way back over to her slowly, his footsteps unsteady, his face gradually screwing up even more, his gaze growing angrier and angrier.

“I’m a piece of fuckin’ shite.” He laughed softly. “I’m…what— miserable, pessimistic…an’ jus’…shite. Bad medicine, yeah? A jealous prick? A…” His rising voice fell, and he clutched his hands over his eyes with a disappointed chuckle. “Goddamn it.”

He had reached the wall beside Ash, and now, he leaned against it, looking down at her. His gaze was angry, but something about it said that the anger had shifted.

Shifted from Ash.

Shifted from Ash to…

To himself.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

He spent a moment breathing, his face slowly unscrewing, and then, in a quiet, slurred voice, he asked:

“Where the hell do Trevor Callaghan an’ Ash West go from here…?”
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:

augustus jace
@pretty.boy.gus has set their status to:
fuck feelings

@pretty.boy.gus has set their outfit to:
"i know"

@pretty.boy.gus has set their location to:
back patio

@pretty.boy.gus has mentioned:
people

@pretty.boy.gus has interacted with:
maddie, josie

@pretty.boy.gus has tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn

@pretty.boy.gus has written a tl;dr:
gus loves drinking for the fun of it !! too bad that's not what's happening tonight !!!
gus' head perked up at the mention of smoking. especially when the smoking in question, was a blunt josie had on her. he knew damn well that it was a stolen blunt, seeing how josie and trevor were roommates. gus hadn't had a good smoke in a while, ever since is "week off" from school, he was too focused on school. his body was itching for the sweet release of weed.

he knew it sounded stupid, but it's what he had been craving. if you called gus out and said "you're addicted to drinking and smoking weed!" he'd give the phenomenal answer of "hey, i can stop whenever i want, i just don't want to stop."

gus downed another shot of whatever josie poured out for him, feeling the familiar burn through his throat. he missed this, partying, drinking, being with friends. it was the first time in a while that gus wasn't drinking to forget, he was just drinking to have fun. his head gave an involuntary shake at the burn of alcohol, immediately tapping the shot glass on the counter, asking for another serving.

once the second shot was downed, gus felt ten times better than before. the adrenaline was coursing through his veins, just like when he was a kid, sneaking out to whatever parties he and his friends could get into. gus learned early on that he was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and he also learned that nothing gave him the same rush of adrenaline as alcohol and pot. so why would he go for anything else?

"yes, smoking, we're doing it. although, pretty sure gen will tear our tongues out if we smoke inside." gus' words were starting to slur together, but not a lot. something gus also learned early, he was just born a light weight. no matter how long he had been drinking, it never took much to get him completely wasted. his hands found josie's shoulders. "you go to the patio, i'm gonna go look for some more, stronger drinks, then i'll meet you out there, yea?" in his half drunken state, gus had no idea how loud he was being. the answer was pretty loud.

he patted josie's shoulders and was off to search as she went to find a good smoking spot.

gus started to wander through the mansion. anyone with half a brain knew that the best drinks, the strongest drinks weren't still in the kitchen. yeah, there was some good stuff in there, it was a gen johannes party, no drink was bad. but the strongest stuff would be scattered throughout the house, people coming and grabbing a bottle of whatever looks strongest for themselves, and nursing it until they set it down somewhere to get grinded on on the dance floor.

with a house as big as gen's, and a lightweight like gus, it should've been common knowledge that he would've forgotten his mission. he ended up in the middle of dance crowds, dancing to whatever beat was thumping through his head. he ended up in another crowd, everyone screaming non-sensical lyrics at the top of their lungs, no one having any sense of rhythm. he even ended up in a random corner, checking twitter on his phone.

long story short, skipping the maddie drama because gus didn't really want to think about anything negative. so when javi was talking about whatever drink he had, gus knew he had to go get some of that. typing out on his phone for javi to save some for him, gus was on the move again. thank God he remembered the smoke break outside with josie, or else he would've been lost in the crowds forever.

walking over to where javi said he was, on the couch with kane, gus was met with a wave of disappointment; the bottle javi had hogged all to himself was empty. he didn't even bother getting onto javi, or even letting him know he was there. he knew that if he, himself, was as hammered as javi seemed on twitter, he probably wouldn't have saved any for anyone else either.

with a groan escaping his lips, he started to try to find his way back to the kitchen. guess he and josie would have to settle for whatever was left in there.

as soon as he stepped foot into the kitchen, he wanted to immediately turn around, step out, tell josie he couldn't find anything for them. because who better for gus to run into then his ex, maddie?

all the negative thoughts that gus had been trying to avoid all night? well here they were. memories of how she dumped him, out of the blue. memories of how she said he was too poor for her. it made him so mad. it never failed to make him more pissed off than he ever remembers being. thoughts of her leaving him and then walking around like everything's okay, walking around, being as happy as could be. she never even seemed phased by it. she never seemed a wreck at school, she didn't miss any school days after she left him, it's like she had been waiting to leave him. every time gus thought about it, he felt his temper rising. no matter how much he had glued together his heart and tried to balance all the pieces to stay together, anytime he thought about that night, everything came crashing down.

so now that he was drunk and feeling all these things? it wasn't a good combination.

gus' eyes, probably looking grey and lifeless, glared at her, for the first time in a long time. normally gus would keep his head down and avoid eye contact, but tonight? nope. all hell was breaking loose inside him, he didn't care if he saw her or not.

after a few moments, gus' eyes left her and wandered to the options of drinks in front of him. he pretended to be scanning them over, very interested in all the too small to read words on each bottle. anything to let maddie sit in her guilt while they were in the same room.

finally gus couldn't hold it in any longer, the angle and devil on his shoulder had been arguing, but suddenly, the angel was no where to be found. the devil on his shoulder kept egging him on, and gus finally gave in.

"sorry, i guess i should be going. wouldn't want anyone to see you hanging out with a poor boy like me." his words were clear, clearer than any drunk gus could've ever dreamed to have spoken. as soon as the words left his mouth, he grabbed two random bottles, starting to make his way out of the kitchen, to the back patio with josie.

augustus you asshole. that was a jerk move. what the fuck is wrong with you?

ah, there was the angel. he had no idea how, but somehow his logic and reasoning had come back to him. apparently his adrenaline from seeing maddie had blocked it out... makes sense, gus made his stupidest decisions when he was drunk or high.

you need to apologize, that was way shittier than anything you've done on twitter, come on.

ugh, the angel was right. but gus was too drunk and full of pride to say the words "i'm sorry". he had to think of something else.

his eyes flicked over to her again, now with his anger slightly subsiding, he was able to actually see her. he was able to actually take in her entire costume, everything about her.

gus felt like he was falling in love with her all over again.

maddie was always stunning, no matter what she wore. no matter her makeup or hairstyle or anything. there was no question as to why she was in the plastics department. she was absolutely beautiful, more beautiful than anyone gus had ever laid eyes on. kinda the basis for why gus gave her the pet name of "angel" when they were together.

ironic. she was dressed as a devil. was that intentional? surely not, gus had seen like seven other devils throughout the mansion that night. no way maddie's costume was meant for gus in any form or fashion.

but if it was, gus wouldn't be complaining.

"you look....really fucking good in that,"

there.

that was his "apology"

with the two bottles in his hands, he tried to leave at a calm, leisurely pace, but it probably looked like he was speed walking out of that kitchen.

fuck

fuck

fuck

fuck

fuck

fuck

gus started nursing one of the bottles, not caring what was in it, hoping it would get him drunk sooner than later. he did not want to remember tonight. he didn't want to remember this feeling, this feeling of anger towards maddie, yet somehow falling in love with her all over again, piled on top of the realization that she left him because he was too pour for her.

swig

nope. not tonight. it was official that gus was drinking to forget. he was drinking to drown all his other thoughts. nope.

swig

he finally found the door to the patio & found josie, already smoking the blunt.

"golly, princess," the pet name felt sour coming out of his mouth, especially after just being face to face with his angel. but he had to act like everything was fine. "you can't just seem to wait for me, huh?" gus downed another swig from the bottle, loving the familiar burn down his throat. it always comforted him, but what he really needed was the comforting burn of smoke in his lungs, the pot getting into his system.

he wanted to forget tonight.
º º code by ditto º º
 

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:
N/A

@queenofhell has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh ​
Ava let out a snort of laughter. She actually agreed with him fully -- the amount of nudity that accompanied Halloween had to easily be the worst part of the holiday. Halloween was supposed to be about being as scary as possible and striking fear into people with fake blood and creepy makeup, and there was nothing scary about skintight costumes and barely covered boobs.

As far as she was concerned, it was nausea-inducing. Like she needed to carry around a bucket or something to just vomit into every time she got a glance of some guy's bare chest or overly emphasized junk or some girl's damn near bare chest or ass or--

Just thinking about it made her lips curl up in disgust. A quick glance down at the other partygoers just cemented Ava's fears as she was blinded by way too many teenagers that simply needed to cover up. Halloween wasn't about who could show the least amount of skin without being considered completely naked, after all.

She looked over at Saint, cocking one eyebrow at his words.

"You like to comment on people's clothing just to see them get angry?" Ava clarified, looking at Saint with eyebrows creased together for a moment, before she cracked a grin and her face relaxed. "Dude, same." Maybe not clothing specifically, but Ava was known to make remarks that often rubbed people the wrong way and would end in them getting angry.

Angry people were funny and there was little for her to actually enjoy in life -- angering people happened to be one of her favorite pastimes. Hell, half the reason she'd first gotten into gaming as seriously as she had was because she thought it was funny to hear guys rage over the internet at her. And then it became even funnier when she absolutely destroyed them.

Ava was truly a troll at heart.

"People get so worked up when you make comments that contradict whatever they think is correct," she shook her head as she looked away from Saint. Her gaze tilted back to count the bats for a moment before slowly edging back towards the crowd and the horrific costumes that were on display. People watching was something that Ava normally did as it was -- but not when those people happened to be hardly clothed. She could care less in this kind of situation.

"It's funny to say something and then just sit back and watch as they get all angry and worked up over basically nothing. Like, do you really think yelling at me is going to make me change my mind? No, you're just wasting your breath and your energy for nothing that matters." She shook her head with another little huff of laughter as she spoke.
º º code by ditto º º
 
• • LINDSAY KAY • •
@justlindsayin has set his status to:
FUCKIN WINNIN LMAOOOO

@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 Winona

@justlindsayin has written a tl;dr:
Lin and Zeph do the bet, and Lin swears he won.
halloween update:
Zeph looked like a fuckin’ thicker version of Flat Stanley as he threw himself backwards, his tall body dangling like a thick, fleshy streamer, and Lin couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, clutching his soda tightly so as not to drop it on the heads of those below— even though that would have been hella hilarious, not even gonna lie. His body bounced as he laughed, and, had it been literally anyone else, they probably would have been screaming their head off at how close he seemed to falling, but it was Lin that we were talking about, so of course, the only part of him that had fear was his lizard brain, which was currently racing his heart and giving his veins that fuckin’ burn of an adrenaline high.

High, high, high— fuckin’ hiiiigh. He loved it— he loved this feeling, luhmao. His blood was pumping, and he could feel his pulse in the back of his head as his heart struggled to pump the blood downwards.

Or was it upwards, luhmao? He couldn’t tell what was up or down upside down, luhmao.

Lin turned the bottle upside down— rightside up? Luhmaooo, he didn’t know. He turned it so that the bottom of the bottle was towards his chin and so that the bottle cap faced the ceiling, and he strained to unscrew the cap. It finally released with a pop, and— unsurprisingly— some fizz spilled down and onto Lin’s face, which caused him to cry out a little “hwaaaa” and then a “luhmaoooo” as he tried to blink the fizz that had fallen into his eyes out. “Gah, ouchie, luhmao,” he laughed, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand. His red wig threatened to fall off of his head at the movements, and his hose-d ankles threatened to slip, but Lin easily readjusted his grip on it— even if his body sunk a bit further once he’d readjusted.

“Aight,” Lin said, putting the bottle cap in-between his teeth so that he could fix his grip on the bottle, grinning, and then he realized that he couldn’t put the bottle cap anywhere, so he turned his head and spat it at the crowd below, laughing heartily as he grinned over at Zeph. “Luhmao, I’ll give us a countdown.”

Lin set his eyes on the bottle, straining his neck to be as close to his body as possible so that his circulation wasn’t as fucked and so that he could access the bottle easier, and then he began the fated countdown. “Threeeee…” He was gonna fuckin’ win, luhmao. “Twooooooo…” Twenty bucks, twenty buckssss. “Oneeeeeeeeeeee…nuh…..nuh….nuh….” He pursed his lips, giving a “rrrrrrrr” to mimic a drumroll, and then he grinned widely and gave the final word:

“Go!”

Lin connected his lips with the lip of his bottle, immediately leaning his head back again and forcing down large gulps of the soda, sure not to pause between gulps so that orange soda didn’t go up his nose—

He was a fuckin’ betxpert, and that was a newbie mistake, luhmao.

One of Lin’s bobby pins gave, causing the front right side of his hair to start dangling, but this didn’t seem to phase the boy, who had his eyes wide open as he guzzled down the orange soda.

As soon as he was done, he dropped the bottle, uncaring of where it went, slamming a fist into his chest and whooping. “Whoooo!” he cheered, and he looked over at Zeph, who he swore was just then finishing his soda. “Eat my ass, luhmaoooo! Suck iiiiiit! Read it and weeeeep, looooooser!” he cheered, putting a finger and a thumb to his forehead and sticking his tongue out. “Nyahhhhh!”

lmao catch you later
. Lin Kay . ​
º º code by ditto º º
 
"waste of my time..."
saint taylor
@sainttay has set his status to:
Hmmmmm...

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

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

@sainttay has mentioned:
N/A...

@sainttay has interacted with:
Ava...

@sainttay has tagged:
Winona Winona

@sainttay has written a tl;dr:
Saint talks with Ava, and Saint shows EMOTION! AND IT'S POSITIVE! KINDA!
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Ava’s laughter made the corners of Saint’s lips quirk upwards, and he snickered at her commentary. “Right…? People care too much that you feel the same way about them that they do themselves…and, much to their disappointment, no one is a god, though their complexes tell them otherwise.” He sighed softly. “Then, if you comment on their complexes, they’ll jump down your throat even more…and it doesn’t take much effort at all.” He said it as if it were a positive thing, because he saw it as one.

The least amount of wasted energy that it took to see other people waste their energies, the better. Saint was very rarely in the mood to intentionally instigate, but he knew that there was a correct way to do so and an incorrect way to do so. That said, even his casual speech tended to be interpreted as instigation, so it seemed that instigating took little to no effort from Saint to begin with.

“Oh, and when they begin to threaten you or try to demean you…? That’s honestly the most entertaining part; keeping a mental tally on the amount of times that they say the same insult in several different ways is…entertaining. If you have a drink in your hand, you could even make a game of it…I do that, sometimes, and then they’ll try to jump down my throat for drinking so much and not talking…and I find it amusing that they think that that’ll work in any capacity, y’know…” He let out a soft, amused breath of air from his nose, inclining his head towards his left shoulder as he looked from Ava and back to the poorly-hung bats. “Another game is to keep marks on how many times they reuse a cliche insult…bitch…whore…tiny dick…though if you turn that one into a drinking game, then you’ll be in a coma by the end of the night.”

Saint snickered again, eyes trailing back to the drink table. “It’s always a way to occupy some time, if nothing else,” he said in his stoic voice. “Though looking at these…’costumes’…or the most recent hauls from the underwear section, be as they may…is more irritating than anything…being a whore is hardly a costume for many of these people.” He looked at her, and a genuine laugh bubbled from him. “Except for yourself, of course,” he said, his stoic voice tinged with amusement. “Though, if you really want to get into character…I’m sure that many of the sleazes here would give their pitiful attempts at ‘satisfying you’…” He laughed again, putting a finger beneath his nose to contain himself. “Live action roleplay, if you will,” he laughed.

He shook his head, looking away from her again. “Pardon,” he said, clearing his throat and shaking his head with a chuckle. “I don’t mean to insulate that you would ever do such a thing. It’s just…a funny mental image…”
º º code by ditto º º
 
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