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

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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:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh
She hadn't thought he'd start talking, at least not this fast. Ash wasn't ready. She kept her gaze diverted from him, her cheek pressed against her knee, her gaze having shifted from looking at his figure to a corner of the balcony.

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

Weren't they both?

She could hear the exhaustion in his voice, and she knew that she was. Her body ached, her lungs hurt, her breath felt labored as if she'd just run a marathon. It wasn't just him that was tired of this -- and this wasn't even that bad. This had been over something as simple and inconsequential as... what?

Her talking to Lucky?

A few passive comments made about what she said about him?

What happened when something serious came along?

Her head hurt trying to think about it, so she decided to just... not. To just shove that thought aside and let herself deal with that in the future -- if there was even a future to worry about.

“Why haven’t you fuckin’ left?”

Ash didn't have an answer.

She thought she knew -- because if she left, would she come back? If she left, would that be walking out on whatever... little... hesitant foundation of a relationship they had?

Her lips parted to answer, but she thought better of it and her jaw shut tightly again, her teeth biting into her bottom lip as she just listened to Trevor as he ranted. At least now he was talking, and he wasn't being as much of a dick as he had been before. So she kept her head down and her gaze focused on the corner of the balcony while he spoke.

Until he started walking towards her while he spoke. Then, Ash lifted her head, her eyes meeting his, her form frozen in place like a deer caught in the headlights as he approached. Her teeth dug more heavily into her lip and she didn't let up until the metallic taste of blood touched her tongue -- then, she let go.

He came to the wall beside her and leaned against it. She tilted her head up to look at him.

“Where the hell do Trevor Callaghan an’ Ash West go from here…?”

She didn't... did she have an answer for that?

Ash let go of her knee and reached up, hesitating for a moment as a million what if's bombarded her thoughts -- what if she touched him and he started yelling again? What if it made him walk away? What if he... he...

Her breath came in, wavering, as she reached up and gently grabbed Trevor's hand with her cold fingers. She tugged at his hand, to pull him down to the ground beside her.

"I don't... I don't know," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper as she shifted her gaze from his face to their hands. She laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "But... you're still here, and I'm still here, so I'm guessing that means you still kind of like me..." her lips twitched into a fleeting smile before falling back into the exhausted, somber expression. "And I still really like you, so..."

She leaned her head back against the house and turned so she could look at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment before meeting his gaze. "This isn't... working," she repeated her earlier phrase, "but that doesn't mean we can't, like... change. We just... can't keep lying to each other and saying 'I'm fine' when we're not."

It was true. So far their fights had started from just that.

But she wasn't sure if either of them were capable of that.

"I don't think you're the worst decision I've ever made, or that you're... bad medicine or whatever," she continued, her words still unsure and unsteady as she spoke. "You're not... you put yourself down so much, but you're not... Trevor, you're not bad. You're... you, and I like you how you are, even if we're fighting over whatever."

She let out a heavy sigh through her nose as she turned her head away from him to look at the railing.

"I don't know... I don't know where you want to go from here, but if you're willing to forget what's happened for now, I think we can still have a good night. I uh... I was talking with Gen earlier about your birthday thing tomorrow and she uh... she helped me out with a present for you."

All Ash really wanted to do was forget.

Forget, and move forward.
º º code by ditto º º
 

january quinten
@jan.quin has set their status to:
oop-

@jan.quin has set their outfit to:
spidey gang + a hoodie

@jan.quin has set their location to:
cloud nine

@jan.quin has mentioned:
i dunno, people

@jan.quin has interacted with:
eli

@jan.quin has tagged:
geminiy geminiy

@jan.quin has written a tl;dr:
jan stumbles upon... something

sweetheart

there it was.

with one word, jan melted, every time. it flustered her, made her face turn redder than any rose you'd ever seen, but it made her swoon. at this point, jan completely forgot how the nickname started, all she knew is that she never wanted anyone else to call her that name ever again.

jan's hand flew up to cover her mouth, trying to hide how she looked when she giggled. there was no point in hiding the giggles right then and there, they were coming whether jan wanted them or not. a few, quick moments of silence fell over them, and jan could tell eli was in thought. it wasn't for long, but jan felt like she could watch him just sit and think all day. wonder what he was thinking about. was it the party? was it the costume contest?

is he freaking out as much as i am right now?

surely not, there's no way he likes me as much as i like him.

jan... he kissed you first, what the fuck else is that supposed to me.


before jan got lost in her own head, eli was pulling her close, his hand around her waist and laying her down to lay on the ground with him. her head resting on his shoulder as she looked back up at the night sky. she and eli seemed to have a common theme of staring up at the stars.

jan was not complaining.

jan's eyebrows raised when eli starting talking about the dance studio. she tried to look up at him, but there was no use while she was laying on his shoulder. and truth be told, she really didn't want to move from that point as long as she could help it. she gave a small nod when he brought up the dance studio, remembering how he talked about it one of her first days at HA. she hadn't heard much about it since, so she was excited to get an update.

he handed her his phone & she starts scrolling through the pictures of the studio.

"i really think i can turn that place around with a little elbow grease."

"hey, nothing like your fixer upper, huh? the more work you put into it, the more you'll love it." she continued to look at the studio as she listened to eli talk so passionately about it.

jan could never place it, but there was something about someone being passionate than jan always loved. whether it was just talking about it or physically partaking in their passion, jan absolutely loved it. she was so passionate about her own craft, music or photography, that she loved to see that side of others.

and passion looked good on eli. he was just talking about how excited he was about fixing up the studio and it made jan's heart soar. she wasn't able to look at him, but she just knew his eyes had that sparkle in his eye. she had seen it a few times, and she wished she could see it now. in fact, she couldn't wait until she got to see that same sparkle in his eye when he danced.

oh man she couldn't wait to watch him dance.

"oh please, you couldn't fuck this up. you know so many powerful, influential people, who i bet are more than willing to help-" her sentence was cut off when she scrolled to look at another picture of the studio.

except it wasn't another picture of the studio.

her face was heating up. damnit jan, pull it together, you're right next to him. you can't pull this now.

what jan scrolled into was one of them many gifs evie had sent through the public twitter of eli and his... hips... apparently nate had dubbed him eli erotica. jan always had to hop out of twitter whenever talk of eli erotic ensued. it wasn't that she didn't like it. no, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

"i guess you don't hate these clips as much as you claim afterall," she turned the phone where eli could see, more giggles coming out of her mouth.
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:
Charlie, Jo, and Amy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:
Self-loathing!
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Trevor watched Ash move, face neutral as her cold fingers wrapped around his, tugging him down to get him to sit. Slowly, he slid down the wall behind him, his knees bending until he reached the ground, his unreadable eyes searching her face for he didn’t know what.

He didn’t know what to think or what to feel.

He didn’t know if he wanted to think or to feel anything.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” Her voice was quiet, and he didn’t strain himself to try to hear it. He stared at her, expression blank.

As far as he could tell, she never knew anything.

He could say the same for himself.

Her fingers laced with his, which caused his head to envelop in a wave of inexplicable guilt.

“But…you’re still here, and I’m still here, so I’m guessing that means you still kind of like me…” She gave him a small, quick smile that quickly dropped from her face, and his eyes flicked away.

Of course he still liked her. How couldn’t he…? She was…perfect. Even when she was wrong, she was perfect.

Kind. Caring. Hot.

Out of his league.

Perfect.

And he...was the opposite of perfect.

The fuckin' opposite.

“And I still really like you, so…”

This part, he didn’t get. No matter how hard he tried, he didn’t get it, and his brows furrowed.

He leaned his head against the wall behind himself and looked back at her, only to see her looking back at him.

She “really likes me”…

So she was willing to deal with all of this shite?

She…she was…

That was dumb.

“This isn't... working.”

State the obvious.

“But that doesn't mean we can't, like...change.”

Change…?

Change…

“We just...can't keep lying to each other and saying 'I'm fine' when we're not."

That wasn’t going to happen. Trevor could say, one hundred percent and without a doubt, that that wasn’t going to happen and that that couldn’t happen.

Trevor knew himself. Trevor knew himself better than anyone else did.

He knew what he would do.

He knew that he couldn’t just stop.

He could never just stop.

He could never just stop.

"I don't think you're the worst decision I've ever made, or that you're...bad medicine or whatever. You're not...you put yourself down so much, but you're not...Trevor, you're not bad.”

That was where she was wrong. He nearly smiled.

She was dead wrong—

He wasn’t good for her. He wasn’t putting himself down.

He was genuinely such a terrible person.

“You're…you, and I like you how you are, even if we're fighting over whatever."

On a list of vices and virtues, one thing that Trevor wouldn’t want to be listed as was Trevor.

She liked him how he was…

But hadn’t she just asked for a change?

She looked away from him, and he watched her side profile, studying her without a thoughtful, muddled expression on his face.

"I don't know...I don't know where you want to go from here, but if you're willing to forget what's happened for now, I think we can still have a good night. I uh...I was talking with Gen earlier about your birthday thing tomorrow and she uh...she helped me out with a present for you."

“Forget, huh?” He paused a moment, looking up at the sky above.

Isn’t this what she’d asked back on the Monday before they’d gotten together? Isn’t that what he’d asked in return? Forget it? Forget that that had ever happened, forget that they’d ever made out and probably would’ve gone further?

And how well had that worked out?

He laughed slightly, shaking his head and looking down at her again. “Forget…huh…”

They wouldn’t be able to forget. It was like he could read the end before the beginning was even over.

A week would pass, and then Trevor wouldn’t be able to keep his damn mouth shut and would say something unintentionally passive-aggressive or just straight up aggressive to her face, and then he’d have to deal with having to lie to cover up what he meant, or he’d have to do that…that “I don’t know what you’re talking about” shite that he always did. That “move on, act like it doesn’t exist, and then eventually you’ll forget about it and they will too”…bullshite that he always did to Charlie and Amy and Jo that never worked because he was the feckin’ worst at lying to them, and he’d have to try that on Ash.

Forget…

Forget, because it would have been better to forget their first night on his couch in the first place, so this forgetting was better late than never, right?

“Do you regret startin' this…?” he asked pensively. “I mean…if ya could go back ta tha fair, back ta when I brought ya ta tha apartment an’…told ya I had…feelin’s fer ya or…what’ve ya…” He looked down at their hands, his face unreadable and his voice thoughtful. “Would you’ve lied ta me an’ told me that ya felt nothin’, if ya knew that this would happen…? That it’d already be this way…that the words I said were true…an’ that I’m…” His voice trailed off.

Well, she’d just said that she didn’t think that he was a bad guy, and he didn’t feel like rehashing that.

He was tired of this already.

He was exhausted. His head ached dully now that much of the anger had subsided, and he brought his free hand up to rub his temple.

“…are you…would you have…”

He tried to get his words out, but he couldn’t, and he let himself trail off.

“Am I jus’…?”

He trailed off again, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

“I like you…” He opened his eyes, looking at the stars. “I jus’ don’t get why…you…do tha same fer me.”

Do the same…

Like she’d ever choose to like a guy like him.

A guy?

A dick.

A fucking prick.

He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and chuckling slightly.

Forget it.

Forget that all of this had happened.

Forget it.

Forget it.

Smile.

Go back.

Forget it.

He opened his eyes again, looking at Ash. “For my birthday?” He met her eyes, trying to maintain eye contact for the first time of the night. “Oh, how sweet…" He chuckled half-heartedly, rubbing his neck with his free hand, and he kidded lightly, "You remembered.”

He gave her a small smile, his eyes flicking away as he gave her had a squeeze back.

"Thanks," he mumbled, "darlin'."
º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: stranger danger

OUTFIT: ronnie mcdonald

LOCATION: the kitchen
basics
MENTIONS:
Nate, Lucky, Hunter, Mike, Gen, Ash, Zeph

INT:
ohdittoh ohdittoh (Kelli)
geminiy geminiy (Kian)
mogy mogy (Oates)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Veronica Crosby
Ronnie listened with amazement as Kian told his story, her mind drifting to her own fantasy of playing at bars like Jessica Rabbit. Hmm... come to think of it, that would have been a killer Halloween costume. And pretty redhead-friendly at that! And while Ronnie wasn't usually the type to turn her nose up locale on the less classy end like dive bars, her vision most definitely took place in a fancier bar somewhere in Hollywood. There would surely be chiseled male movie stars swarming to have a chat with the mysterious, enchanting girl kind of unnecessarily rolling all over the piano, enticingly wielding her microphone as lyrics flowed out of her mouth, sweet and smooth as honey. And she'd be pulled away from the fray of rich suitors to face the bold, dashing, magically sexy Nate, wait... Lucky... err... Hunter- wait, no, Mike- wait, actually...

Well, putting the intricate details aside, some special hot guy pining after her would sweep her off her feet. And the end, happily ever after, etc. etc. For more information, refer to Ronnie's middle school Wattpad account.

Uh, what was Kian talking about? Ronnie snapped into focus just in time to receive a drink with a smile, foolishly forgetting to utter her thanks due to the length of time she'd wasted simply swooning at the charming bartender in front of him. He was merely a boy crush, in no way comparable to that of Ronnie's more attainable prospects, but she could appreciate him nonetheless. It would feel a little blasphemous to seriously pursue her friend's brother anyway; for now, Kian would be spared from the alluring pull of Veronica Crosby, saving him from a lifetime of unrequited love.

"Oh, Gen is just the sweetest!" Ronnie gushed to Kelli, her lips glued to the miraculously delicious alcoholic beverage in her hand, "She's... I don't know, sort of a big sister to me. Basically, I look up to her so much 'cause she's got this whole show-stopping vibe and all that. Like, she'd totally rip your tongue out if you crossed her, but for the most part she's sooooo sweet. And super scary, but, like, really, really beautiful! So it works out."

Ronnie once again found herself dreaming of her aspirations to achieve her own sense of bad-bitchery amid her long-winded yammering about her friend. She hoped it didn't come across as obsessive and weird, but of all people to be herself around, Kian and Kelli could be trusted not to judge her all that much, if at all. Ronnie had already given Kelli plenty of information about her life and fantasies and goals, and she wouldn't be surprised if the dancer girl could easily write a novel out of the past week's ramblings alone.

"Oh, Hollywood Arts is just the best, I can't believe it took so long for you guys to get over here! Everyone's, like, so cool in their own way. There's, uh, never a dull moment." The little clown laughed nervously, but her overflowing enthusiasm took over in no time. "Lots of big personalities. Great for friends, even better for networking and collabing and stuff. See, I've got this friend, Stella, she's this amazing actress and I know I'm supposed to be all musical and stuff, but wow, I'd just love to learn from her all day. Acting is, like, soooo cool..." Ronnie took a beat to retract into her thoughts, appreciating all that was theater with a smile. After all, it's where she got her start.

"But the music is cool too!" she reassured, realizing she'd put a strange amount of emphasis on the visuals department for a musician, "Some parts of this place have, like, the best acoustics I've ever heard. Seriously. You've got to hear Ash when she's up there. It's a sight—or, uh, sound—to behold."

"And, and, and, I've done a bit of dancing since I've come here too and I can definitely say the dance department is, uh, definitely not lacking! One time I saw Zeph doing some ballet whatever onstage, and I swear his big, long ol' legs were gonna smack me in the face."
Ronnie took a breath, curious if the two siblings had even retained anything amidst the blaring sounds of music and voices around them. "You can do whatever you want for the Winter Fest, just as long as you show off your mad skills. Like, for me, I'm gonna do this elaborate one-woman show thing with lots of singing and sound effects and choreography and acting and... you know, all that. I haven't figured out the details of it yet. I'm pretty sure you probably have to do something too, so bring it! Give me all you got."

Ronnie was fully prepared to double the word count of this post if not for the fact that a strange interloper had thrown himself into the group, talking this and that about Kian and Kelli and gyms and legends, giving out hugs like candy. Now, she normally wouldn't have minded welcoming a cheerful stranger if it wasn't for the fact that this stranger was frighteningly tall and wearing a strange, identity-hiding costume. Ronnie was a sucker for horror and thrills, so it wasn't this demonic appearance that really surprised her, but more so the curiosity of who this guy was behind the mask and why he was claiming to know the Phelans despite how late their arrival to the school was.

"U-uh, hey!" she stammered, hugging him back after a brief moment of being frozen awkwardly. She straightened up when he pulled away, picking herself up enough to add loudly over the sound of the party, "Cool costume! I don't know what that's from, but it's wicked cool, bro!" She turned to Kelli and winked, proud of the vocabulary she'd picked up partially from Kelli and partially from Kelli's impressions of Kian.
code by valen t.
 
Lucky DuBois
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL LIE
IT'S A PERFECT DENIAL
IT'S A BEAUTIFUL LIE TO BELIEVE IN
halloween
"imagination creates reality"


Okay.

He asked for a distraction. He did. Something...anything to take his mind off what was currently going on in his life.

But this.

He didn’t ask for this.

Just another fucking douchebag in his life that thought they were better than him. Or thought that they knew anything about him. Or thought that they could push him around and he wouldn’t fight back.

That wasn’t Lucky’s style. Not anymore.

No fucking way.

As the Irish bumbling buffoon continued to insult him for no reason. All he did was say that he and Ash were gonna kill it at the Art’s Festival. Was he really that petty that he wouldn’t wish for his friend to do well at one of the most important events of the school year?

Okay.

Maybe he’d gone too far. Obviously there was something between these two. Or maybe it was just Trevor having feelings or whatever. Or, more likely, Trevor was obsessed with Ash and planning on bludgeoning her body in the back of his pedovan and keeping her body in a rocking chair in his room like Norman Bates did with his mom.

The dude had mudereyes.

Either way. It wasn’t cool. Lucky wasn’t even interested in Ash in that way...or at least he knew that she wasn’t that kind of girl and it’d be a waste of time.

“The man’s ego is a fragile thin’; a boy’s ego is even more so.”

Okay.

He hadn’t gone too far.

In fact, he hadn’t gone far enough. Fragile ego? Was this guy for fucking real? Lucky huffed out a laugh. If he wanted to discuss fragile egos maybe he should look inward and seek out the answer to why the fact that Lucky casually talking with Ash caused him to have what Lucky could only describe as some sort of brain malfunction and inability to communicate.

Trevor was a dick. Of course he was that petty.

But his insults began to lose their usual level of arrogant assholishness. In addition, he was unable to understand his ramblings due to his thick Irish stutter and the fact that he had downed half the bottle of whiskey in such a short amount of time. Dude didn’t have the same tolerance as his blonde frate and it showed.

His attention never left Trevor’s. He refused to back down. Even if he chose not to respond except for the smirk on his face that told Trevor all he needed to know.

Lucky had won.

Confirmed by the fact that Trev finally shut the fuck up.

Seriously. The dude loved to hear himself speak. And his stupid, probably fake accent, was so fucking annoying. He rolled his eyes as Trev took another swig from the bottle and his eyes shot back up as he slammed the bottle down on the counter, his smirk removed from his face and his hands clenching at his side. He was prepared for a fight if that’s what it came down to.

But, like he thought, Trev was all talk. And as he stormed off, Lucky couldn’t help but smirk.

Game Over.

“Trevor…”

Ash.

Fuck. She was gonna be pissed.

Guess the game wasn’t over after all. There was just a secret boss and Lucky was about to get his ass handed to him. He looked to Ash and everything was confirmed. Welp, there went Arts Festival. He understood that he and Trevor just finished a major pissing competition, but was she not there when Trev called him a bitch in heat and a prick? Where was her jump to defend him?

All Lucky did was discuss their conversation prior to Trevor’s arrival and then harmlessly flirted with Ash by reminding her of the many lovely things she had said about him. It was in no way supposed to piss Trev off.

“Look, I don’t know what little feud you two have going on and I don’t care, but you do not get to use me as ammunition to hurt him.”

Lucky’s eyes dropped to the floor. Fuck. Trevor deserved every fucking thing that Lucky put him through tonight (even though he was a perfect gentleman and kept the conversation civilized). But Ash didn’t. Ash had been one of the few, hell, the only person that had reached out to him without the intention of sleeping with him. She had been, to use her words, a friend, and he had lied to her not once, but twice now and that didn’t sit well for him.

She had tried to make him feel included when he didn’t even want to be and even agreed to the Arts Festival without knowing how amazingly talented he was. And he fucked it up. But he didn’t feel bad. That would mean that he gave a shit. Which he obviously did not.

He watched as she turned, obviously on her way to find Trevor. Why? He still hadn’t a fucking clue. If the girl knew what was good for her, she’d run as fast as she could from that ticking irish car bomb. He moved to go after her, but stopped abruptly as she did and turned on her heel.

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

Game Over.

Surprise win from Ash Blair Johannes.

Lucky sighed. Did not see that coming. He took a deep inhale of breath as he watched her disappear through the crowds. He definitely needed to be more clear as to what kind of distraction he was looking for next time. His eyes scanned the counter and spotted a relative full bottle of something. He grabbed the bottle and made his way out of the kitchen. He needed some time alone. This whole socializing idea had failed him twice and knowing his luck, the third time wasn’t going to be a charm.

He maneuvered through the crowd and headed for the staircase. Figured Gen’s words of warning about anyone fucking in her house would mean that the upper levels would be relatively empty. He just needed some quiet. He just needed some place he could down this bottle in peace and pass out and forget this fucking night ever happened.

Halloween sucked.

He walked up the staircase and went down the less crowded hallway. Guess people weren’t scared of Gen. He’d hate to be them if she caught them. He found an empty room and made his way inside. It was an office, which was probably why it was empty. So many people felt that in order to have sex you needed a bed. Guess it was his lucky night.

He huffed out another laugh at that thought as he opened the bottle and took a swig and felt the burn. Tequila. He really was gonna regret this tomorrow, but anything that kept him from thinking. Anything that kept him from reality...was a good thing.

MOOD: road to blackout | OUTFIT: outfit | LOCATION: gen's mansion
MENTIONS: Ash, Trevor INTERACTIONS: Danny
TAGS: Kio.exe Kio.exe
º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: Content

OUTFIT: XoXo

LOCATION: The Party
basics
MENTIONS:
None
INT:
Javi ( hery hery )
tags
TL;DR No.
tl;dr
Kane Blackmore

Come little children…

“Javi...how can I help you?” Kane asked, frowning as his friend winced again. Before he could answer, to make matters infinitely worse, Juliette Jameson approached, snatching Javi’s phone from where it rested on the arm of the couch. If it had been anyone else, Kane would have said something, but it was JJ and...truthfully? Kane was terrified of the brunette hell spawn.

If he had a death wish—which he didn’t—he would have even said hello, but instead he sat there, tugging Javi closer as JJ scrolled through his phone, doing only God knew what. It took only a few minutes, but when she threw the curly haired boy’s phone down—hitting Javi in a place no man should be hit—and stormed off, Kane let out a sigh of relief.

When Javier relaxed back against his chest, Kane rested his chin on top of the shorter boy’s head, frowning. “Yeah, everyone went trick or treating…even me,” he muttered, face heating. Kane could only hope that his friend was drunk enough to not notice his bold faced lie. He sighed again, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated what to say next. Sure he’d grown up more privileged than most people would ever be, but...at what cost? He’d never had the basic childhood experiences that all his friends had, and he never would.

“Tell me about it,” he requested quietly, kissing the top of Javi’s head. “Tell me about...your favorite costume, or the best place to go trick or treating where you grew up,” he continued. Sure he’d never get to do those things himself, but he could sure as hell try and understand why everyone else loved this ridiculous holiday. His stomach growled unhappily, but Kane ignored it, not wanting to move. It was a rare moment in time when Javi cuddled this willingly, and Kane wasn’t about to ruin it because he’d skipped lunch.

“Have you...have you ever eaten so much candy that you were sick the next day? Or...did you go to school the day after Halloween, just to brag to all your friends that you got more candy than them?” he asked, thinking back on all the stories he’d heard, or things he’d seen on TV regarding the holiday. “Did you ever...trade all the stuff you didn’t want for the good stuff at the middle school lunch table?” Kane continued, fixing the strap of Javier’s princess dress.

“Does your stomach still hurt? Is there...is there anything I can do to help?” he asked, realizing he hadn’t gotten a response earlier, when JJ had been there. He didn’t really know what he could do, but he didn’t want Javi to be in pain.
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:
MOOD: Concerned.

OUTFIT: Adonis?

LOCATION: The Party
basics
MENTIONS:
Stella ( Kitsune2202 Kitsune2202 ) Ava ( Winona Winona ) Josie ( jasmyn jasmyn )
INT:
Lucky ( gh0stwriter gh0stwriter )
tags
TL;DR No.
tl;dr
Daniel Cooper

I’d like to keep my spleen intact…

After recovering from the embarrassment of nearly face planting in front of a crowd of HA’s elite, Danny stood, leaning against the wall besides some staircase, hoping to go unnoticed. His costume wasn’t anything special—just some stupid Adonis costume he’d picked up from the closest costume store, as more of a joke than anything else. He hadn’t even expected to come to this stupid party today, but… it had certainly made him laugh when he’d seen it in laying on the shelf.

There were so many people there, even just in this one room alone. Were there really this many people in school? He hadn’t thought so, but...honestly? He tried to keep as low a profile as possible when he was in school, so...it was a safe bet to assume most of the people here did, too, even if it seemed they had no such reservations here, at the party. Seriously, he’d never seen so many drunk, stupid people gathered in one place.

Danny felt bad for Gen and Eli—they’d have to clean up after everyone left, and there was sure to be a mess. The night had only just begun and already there were abandoned red solo cups crushed on the ground, food crumbs and wrappers left on the furniture. Disgusting. Sighing, he kicked at one of the aforementioned plastic cups that lay by his feet, absentmindedly fidgeting with the heavy golden...headband wreath thingy he wore on his head. No way would he make it through the night without losing it.

Danny wasn’t the biggest fan of the creepier aspects of the holiday—horror movies, blood, gore, violence—and rightfully so. Why did it have to be so...gross? Shaking his head, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his loose white pants he wore, and began to scroll through Twitter. Every was being nice—a pleasant difference from how it usually was—until Evie and Stella and...whoever else decided that Horny Twitter ™️ was more interesting than nice Twitter. Danny just hoped he didn’t bump into Stella during the party, if only so he didn’t have to “prove his experience”, or whatever it had been that Stella had said.

He would, of course, take Horny Twitter over...Organ Harvesting Twitter (??) anyway, but of course he couldn’t always get what he wanted. Sighing (and glancing around the room to make sure Ava and Josie were nowhere near him and his spleen), he stuffed his phone back in his pocket, frowning at the itchy fabric his gold vest/shirt thingy. He’d lose that by the end of the night, too.

Someone stormed up the stairs behind him, rattling the picture frames that hung dangerously close to Danny’s head, and he turned, peering over the banister at the quickly retreating figure in a familiar Spiderman costume….Lucky? Swearing under his breath, Danny (remember, he never claimed to be smart) followed Lucky up the stairs, albeit much more slowly and carefully (he never claimed to be nimble either; he didn’t want to risk tripping over his own feet).

He pushed open each door that wasn’t locked as he strode down the hallway, muttering curses under his breath as he got closer to the end without finding Lucky. He was almost ready to give up, when he pushed open the last door on the left, and there he was, guzzling down tequila like there was no tomorrow. He appeared to be upset, over God only knew what. (Danny was just glad it wasn’t him this time).

“Lucky...I...are you okay? What’s….what’s wrong?” he said quietly, closing the door behind them with a soft click. Danny stopped about two feet away, looking around the room. It appeared to be some...office or another, probably used for whatever business Mr. or Mrs. Johannes did. “Why are you upset, Lucky? Talk to me,” he swallowed audibly, brow furrowed in concern. It hurt almost physically to see his ex-best friend this way.

“What happened? Why...why are you in here, and not with...the rest of the spidey-squad?” he pressed, taking a step closer. Then sighing, as he reached his hand out for the bottle of tequila, in a silent request.

“Seriously, Lucky. You can talk to me.”


code by valen t.
 
Last edited:
MOOD: pallin around

OUTFIT: princess fit courtesy of tou lolololol

LOCATION: gen/eli's place
basics
MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
Kio.exe Kio.exe (Kane)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Javier Cervantes
Javier smirked, shaking his head at his friend like the guy was a kid, as if he wasn’t the one ridiculously sprawled all over him like a baby climbing someone. “Oh, Kaney, you’re such a kid,” he cooed in a patronizing fashion, failing to detect the sorrow in his tone, “I bet you’d still go trick-or-treating if I l-let-“ A burp abruptly cut the curly-haired boy off, but fortunately nothing came of it. “...if I let you.”

He smiled to himself, gently rubbing Kane’s arm. “B-but we can’t have that, now can we, Raisin’ Kane’s? What would I do here without your-“ Burp. “...f-fine ass to hold me?” He guffawed much louder than he had before, taking great pride in his IQ-lowering commentary. His hand levitated into the air, hovering around Kane’s face. He began to play with it, his hand rather invasively tugging at the red-faced boy’s cheek and grabbing his nose.

Javi reveled in the serenity of this scene amid the loud, chaotic party around them. Kane’s head kisses felt almost cathartic, a remnant of compassion he once felt long, long ago. His eye twitched; the glossy little orb threatening to divulge a crack in the emotional fortress Javier had constructed so long ago. He let out a horrifyingly embarrassing purr, almost forgetting in the middle of all this that these tiny gifts of affection weren’t received from his mother of old. His cheeks burned an equal level of red as he realized what he’d done, but chances were the noise of everything around them would conceal his strangeness anyway.

“You’re citing a bunch of kids’ movie cliches,” Javi interjected, a low mutter against Kane’s adjacent ear, “I don’t know what you did up in Richlandia, but over here it was just me and the neighborhood kids stirring shit up.” He made a conscious decision to omit the tantrum he’d thrown in front of his parents over getting the wrong costume before his second grade Halloween, unable to bear the thought of recounting his mother’s soothing consoling to a sobbing Javi. “Like, fifth grade, me an’ all the kids on the block all dressed as ninjas n’ tried to sneak into a Halloween party through the back. Fuckin’ Mondo got us caught, but hey, we still got some candy out of it. An’ I made sure to take my tax from everyone else for coming up with the plan, even if it failed.”

He paused, feeling an unwelcome sinking in his stomach. “I always got the Red Hots. My brother just handed ‘em to me every year. Didn’t even have to ask...”
He frowned, hating himself for even remembering that insignificant detail. This time, the pause was much longer as Javier scrambled to latch onto another topic.

“So, how about you, Candy Kane? I bet they had all the king-sized bars in your neighborhood. An’ Halloween parties for kids. Like, special parties away from all the drunk adults. Imagine that,” Javi theorized, finding himself a little jealous after comparing his childhood with his vision of Kane’s.

Javi shook his head, reassuringly patting Kane on the thigh. “Don’t you worry about me, buddy,” the dress-clad boy said cheerily, going against all his instincts to clutch his burning stomach in pain. The fun wouldn’t end this easily because of some weak ass organ. Fuck that. “I heard your stomach too. You hungry or just anxious to impress me? Here, why don’t you...” Javi heaved his torso off of Kane, pathetically reaching for the liquor bottle on the table in front of them. His fingers missed several times, before he was finally able to grip the glass bottle. “H-haave some of this,” he urged, his speech taking an even worse turn. He took a swig of the disgusting liquid, coughing like a madman while he held onto his upset stomach. He held it out to Kane, intrusively jabbing his face with it. The smell must have been horrible on his nostrils, which the bottle occasionally hit. “Come onnnn, Kaney, you know you wanna.” He cackled ridiculously, his teasing gaze hiding a glint of real fondness for the kindhearted guy thrust into the role of taking care of his boisterously hammered ass.
code by valen t.
 
MOOD: Content

OUTFIT: XoXo

LOCATION: The Party
basics
MENTIONS:
None
INT:
Javi ( hery hery )
tags
TL;DR No.
tl;dr
Kane Blackmore

Superstition ain’t the way…

Kane, to put it lightly, felt like a glorified babysitter. As Javi’s hands grabbed at various places on his face—very nearly jabbing him in the eye several times—Kane merely sighed, resigned to his fate. He was almost certain Javi had dealt with the same, if not worse when Kane himself had been shit faced a few weeks prior.

Kane snorted. “Ninjas? I’d pay to see fifth grade Javi try n sneak in here with all of his friends,” Kane said happily, poking his very intoxicated friend in the cheek. “Your brother sounds nice. I kinda wish I had a sibling, sometimes,” he continued, shrugging. It was nice, to learn more about the friend that he shared a home with. It was weird, how little they actually knew about each other. Their friendship was certainly about as unorthodox as it got.

When Javier asked about his childhood, it was harder to answer. Kane swallowed the lump that had made its way into his throat, sighing. He couldn’t expect Javi to share everything he had, without sharing something in return. “I..uh...well, Halloween was good, as a kid,” he began. Time to put his storytelling skills to the test. “Back home in Chicago, where I lived, everyone in the neighborhood went all out for the holiday—you know, crazy decorations, fake blood and smoke machines everywhere.”

In reality, the houses on the street he’d grown up on had never changed, no matter what time of year it was. Why would Chicago’s elite ruin their effortless class with gaudy decorations and festivities? Kane’s house wasn’t any different, and the only thing changing for the holidays had been what sort of flowers his mother had put in the window boxes.

“There was always a week of parties leading up to Halloween itself—each of our neighbors trying to outdo each other. It was stupid superiority battles over who had the better food, better house, better decorations. Who could get the most celebrities to show up,” Kane continued, sighing. This wasn’t a complete lie. There were always parties going on among the rich. His own mother had thrown more than her fair share, insisting that when you had money and all the freedom in the world, parties were in order. It was how the people who were too lazy and passive aggressive to fight with fists and words settled their differences.

“My mother loved those parties, and was determined to outshine all of her little socialite friends at them, too. Every year my mother would hire some tailor to make my costume, custom made. One year it was Batman, the next a doctor, the year after that a vampire, or a zombie. She never does anything half assed, that woman,” Kane laughed, somewhat bitterly as he spoke. Another bit of truth mixed with the intricate lie he was weaving. The tailor had made him a suit for every occasion, not costumes.

Kane brushed his fingers along Javier’s cheekbone affectionately, before taking the proffered bottle of alcohol as it was shoved into his face. “I’m not hungry. Or drinking this nasty stuff, so hush so I can finish my story,” he quipped, placing the bottle safely out of Javier’s reach, before brushing his finger across Javi’s mouth in an attempt to silence him.

“Anyways...trick or treating. It was my father who went with me every year—my mother always had a gaggle of her lady friends over for drinks—and in my part of town, there was no shortage of king sized candy bars. I swear I got so much every year that I could never eat it all—and don’t give me that look, I know I eat more candy than any normal person should on a daily basis.” Kane smiled, the corners of his grey eyes crinkling. Honestly? He saw his father maybe once a year, twice if he was lucky. Bentley Blackmore was always away on some business trip or another, or with his new wife, Stephanie and their children, just a few streets down from where Jane lived with his mother. He’d never even met his half siblings, despite being a five minute taxi ride from them, but Javi didn’t need to know any of that.

“So...that’s all, really. No exciting break in stories, or run in with the cops, sadly,” Kane said, wrapping his arms tighter around his roommate. “I know, I know, I’m nowhere near as cool as Mr. Javier Cervantes, but who is?” he sighed, lifting one of Javi’s hands and lifting it up to his face to study it—all the lines and creases, little scars that almost had Kane asking more questions about the curly haired heathen he was holding. Those could wait for another time.

“Well there you have it. Kane Blackmore’s collective Halloween experiences in a nutshell.”


code by valen t.
 
Last edited:
MOOD: social king

OUTFIT: maid costume

LOCATION: the johannes mansion
basics
MENTIONS:
Rome, JJ, Javier, Kane

INT:
mogy mogy (Oates)
Winona Winona (Jace)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Callum Richards
You want to be there for him? What about me? You're supposed to be being there for me tonight. But "there" was a place Callum seldom was, let alone those around him. Logically, he knew Oates was more than entitled to being "there" for his whiny, idiotic "friend" which Callum made "cry". But come on. Even as ex-boyfriends, there was still a level of platonic ownership Callum held over him, right?

That came out all wrong. Or, maybe, in a sick sense, it was exactly how Callum truly felt. By nature, he was prone to latching on to anyone that showed interest in him, even if he always found a way to do just the opposite, pushing everyone away like it was Black Friday and the next PlayStation had just come out.

"Right, I'll catch you later, O," Callum called out, forcing himself to appear at least somewhat okay with being left to his own devices. His crooked smile dropped as soon as Oates turned his back, and he stood still for a minute, thinking over what in the hell he was going to do. He was a fish out of water, bumping sides with other drunk, teenage fish, but somehow still feeling completely alone.

Right. Meeting by the drinks. Heaving a sigh, Callum weaved through the growing wave of guests to the nearest drink table. Gen and Eli were rich, right? Surely there'd be multiple troves of alcohol in this gigantic house. And Callum was right, happening upon a rather expensive-looking stash of various bottles of liquor. I'm fun too. Boring people don't get drinks when they're told to. The tall boy, minding the rather revealing dress he was wearing, squatted down to grab a three-quarters-full bottle of rum from under the table.

He popped the cap, then grabbed a cup and a bottle of Coca Cola to mix his drink with. This what you want, huh? You want someone social? Fine, then I'll give you... social drinker. Callum roughly poured the contents of the bottles into his cup, adding at least twice the amount of rum than he should have compared the measly droplet of coke he added to the mixture. Then, he rather dramatically downed a third of the cup before refilling it with equal parts rum and coke.

When the entire gulp was down his throat, Callum wiped his face, sticking his tongue out with disgust. That was awful. Callum had already mixed the drink with an abysmal alcohol to soda ratio, but he was also generally not much of a drinker. That was for a reason, but either way, his lack of a tolerance and his apparent lack of mass left him quite the lightweight. Hope you're having fucking fun, Oates.

With a grouchy scowl on his face, Callum grabbed his cup and leaned against the wall, taking disgusting sips every so often. He resumed his cherished tradition of people watching, particularly intrigued by the sight of a girl tossing a phone right at some guy's crotch. He stifled a laugh, ripping his eyes from the sight before the muscled boy and his apparent boyfriend caught him staring. Instead, Callum's blue eyes traveled to a nearby boy, one who was (unsurprisingly) alone: Jace.

After a short internal debate over whether or not he could be bothered to go interact with his friend, Callum resolved to at least go say hello. He wouldn't give Rome the satisfaction of making him wait like a loyal puppy as the little sugar baby went and made goo goo eyes at his ex.

"Hey, Jace," Callum greeted his awkward friend, looking him up and down, "What're you supposed to be? And who were you just talking to?" He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, amazed Jace of all people had found a way to talk up some girl at a party all on his own. And, amusingly, that same girl had gone and shattered some asshole's testicles. Color Callum impressed. The dark-haired dancer periodically sipped his cup, taking the occasional glance at the party around him.

code by valen t.
 

Damien Slater
"When you see my face, hope it gives you hell."

@damien.slayter has set their status to:
Halloween? best holiday

@damien.slayter has interacted with:
N/A

@damien.slayter has mentioned:
some twitter bitches

@damien.slayter has tagged:
N/A
Alright, alright...

Damien hadn't planned on going to any parties for the night -- surprise, right? Yeah, he was fucking surprised by his own decisions, too. It wasn't like him to turn down the opportunity for a party on just a basic fucking day like Monday or something. But Halloween? Easily the greatest holiday ever because bitches were walking around half fucking naked without him having to do any work to see that shit? Yeah, normally he would've spent the last twenty-four hours hopping from party to party.

However, believe it or not, but Damien was actually (shh, don't tell anyone this shit) nervous about starting at Hollywood Arts on Monday. It wasn't like he was going to be fucking around on his own just for the sake of his own enjoyment and making dumb little animations to laugh at. This was... he was playing in the big leagues now.

He was playing in the big leagues with fucking professionals while he was still using a fucking tee.

So Damien's original plan for the night involved sitting in his room -- where he now was -- with the curtains drawn and the lights out. As luck would have it, fucking Sam had started college and he'd actually gone away for it. Damien had thrown a whole fucking party with RSVP invitations and everything to celebrate it.

(And by that, he meant that it had been a party of him alone with a bottle of whiskey, a joint, and a handful of pills of some sort that he'd bought off of Javi that had ended with him waking up the next morning with a shirt that smelled like... something and in the bathtub with absolutely no memory of what had transpired).

Tonight was the perfect time for him to hone in on those skills, though. That was Damien's master plan. He'd taken some pills (again, courtesy of Javi) that had given a boost of energy. And that's how Damien was going to spend the next forty-eight fucking hours. He was going to pop pills, drink coffee, maybe smoke a joint...

And work.

His mom and stepdad were gone -- they'd gone to some work function or some shit. Damien didn't keep up. So he had the entire house to himself, which meant that he could've thrown some kind of wild fucking party and, as the night wore on and he started to see cross-eyed as he stared at his computer screen, he started to wonder why he hadn't.

And then, Twitter called his name. Apparently all the students were on this fucking thing and it's how most of them stayed connected. So Damien figured he'd take a little break. So he grabbed his phone, logging on, and then he was away. He spun his chair back and forth as he stared at his phone and soon the quick peek turn into minutes long conversation and--

Oh, he was fucking going.

They really had the fucking audacity to call Damien, who was almost seventeen, a fucking child.

Well, he decided, he'd show them just how much of a fucking child he was.

----------------------------​

The Uber pulled to a stop outside of the house. Once upon a time, Damien would've gawked in awe at the fucking mansion -- amazed that anyone would waste their money on something so big and useless. After all, who really needed all of that fucking space? But now, well... it'd be like calling the kettle black.

"Keep the change," he said as he tossed a couple hundred dollars bills to the Uber driver and climbed out -- look, it wasn't his money, so who really cared if he overpaid people?

Uber drivers worked hard.

And so, one Damien Slu-- Slater walked up to the front doors of the waste of resources mansion. His costume was simple: literally just his normal clothes plus a pair of vampire teeth that he'd grabbed from a store on his way here. They'd been a couple bucks and Damien wasn't one to go overboard with his fucking costumes.

After all, if he was lucky (and he was Damien fucking Slater so of course he was going to be lucky), he wouldn't be wearing these clothes for much longer.

Kind of a waste to buy a costume to wear for, what, an hour?

The vampire teeth made it kind of hard to close his mouth, though, and the cheap plastic dug painfully into his gums. Plus, every time he went to open his mouth, he could feel the drool that was just pooling in his mouth. So he'd try to swallow, but then he just sounded like a gross kid that just got new braces put in or some shit.

Fucking worst costume. He should've bought the pirate hat or something. Sunglasses and said he was an undercover FBI agent. Yeah... yeah, now that would've been fucking cool.

Plus he looked fucking hot in sunglasses.

He scoped out the room and started towards the kitchen to grab a drink, but Damien was an easily distracted fellow. Which meant that he kept stopping and forgetting what his original goal was because... boobs, asses, abs. It was all here on display, and half the fuckers in this school were fucking MODELS.

All the nerves that Damien had about attending the school faded.

This was fucking heaven.

But he found himself standing dumbly by the edge of the dance floor, his eyes darting around as he tried to take it all in... and his brain short-circuiting as he tried to remember what he was doing.
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:

Livanna Moore
"Lookin’ for some trouble tonight.”

@Livieeee is offline:
...

@Livieeee has interacted with:
Callum, Oates

@Livieeee has mentioned:
N/A

@Livieeee has set her outfit to:
only the cutest wonder woman alive

@Livieeee has tagged:
geminiy geminiy

No, she didn't let Callum see her phone.

She didn't want anyone to know what Gen had said to her-- partly because it was most likely true, and she didn't want others to think the worst of her.

Gen was... a lot sometimes but she wasn't a bad person.

When people were hurt they said things they didn't mean, or y'know, sometimes they told you the hard ugly truth. If it was meant to hurt Liv it worked. It would've hurt anyone to see the girl you loved flipped out on you on social media. Call you certain names, even though Gen was hurting herself-- it wasn't suddenly gonna make that feel a little less harsh.

Some was said on public twitter, some private messages.

But Liv wasn't about to expose her to anyone.

She'd never do that.

Ever.

Livanna Moore was incredibly hung up on one Genevieve Johannes and everybody knew that but her. If she did-- it'd be pointless to have this conversation with her, but unfortunately it had to happen. The only thing that kept recurring in her mind was the plastic bag that Liv pocketed in her bra, well, that and Gen's words that kept replaying in her head over and over as Liv was silently punishing herself for making such a dumb mistake with Mike.

But truthfully? She'd probably make that same mistake again if given the choice to do so.

After Gen and Nate left, Liv... used everyone and anything in an attempt to... what? Get the attention she wanted? Fill whatever loneliness that decided to creep up on her, it wasn't like it was going to erase the hurt that ached and kept aching until she had found someway to numb it. There was no numbing it forever and that was something she had to learn.

Just... not tonight.

After they arrived at the party, Liv made it a priority to escape from Oates and Callum, barely even muttering a goodbye as she found the nearest bathroom, struggling with the stupid bag for a few seconds before she'd started to take stuttered breaths.

She didn't want to cry.

Liv hated crying.

But unfortunately, she was just as sensitive as a three year old and it was barely five seconds before tears had started flowing and the girl struggled to stop them. A knock at the door had startled her and Liv wiped away her tears, taking a deep breath before popping another two pills into her mouth... and deciding to take three-- just to be safe. Which meant she only had two left. Something told her she'd need the rest tonight too. After returning the baggie to it's original position, she left the bathroom, leaving it to whatever couple that needed to occupy it.

Everything would be fine tonight, she just had to wait till the pills set in before she'd talked to--

Gen.

Liv had almost collided with the woman of the hour and it'd took everything in her body to not run away at the sight of her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msorry."

She knew she was mad, Liv deserved every word that Gen needed to say-- she genuinely believed that.

But deep down Liv knew this wasn't right. Hell, it wasn't even that deep to begin with. It's hard to make plans with the girlfriend you're incredibly in love with and the next morning she packed up and left you alone, no warning, no calls, no messages.

Nothing.

Liv had nothing.

Nobody.

Except Mike.

And at the time? She accepted it.

Liv shook her head, surprised at her own words and the sudden confidence to blurt out the next. "... I'm not sorry. No. I lied. I can't. I'm not. You left me. Okay? You decided to say fuck all and leave me alone. I was alone. I called and called, I texted you for hours I can't sit here and listen to you say how you cried for me for three days when I cried for months. How you tell me it wasn't fair to sleep with Mike when you hadn't even left the state yet. How you waited a few weeks to sleep with Adriane I--"


"Fourteen hours and fourteen days aren't that far apart. You slept with Adriane because... because you didn't want me. You made a point to not want me. The exact second you chose to leave me in the middle of the night and go on vacation with a random choosing of a girl that I hardly know, is that point. I... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I hurt you." But... this wasn't right. Liv knew everything about this wasn't right.

She deserved better.

Even if she didn't believe it.

"But I'm not sorry that I slept with him. He was there. He wasn't locked away in rehab, he didn't take his suitcases and take Adriane on a beautiful tour to fucking Italy. You can hate me. You can, I know you already do. I'm pathetic, I'm shit, I'm literally not good for a single thing in the world, throw it all on me. Your words can't hurt me more than your actions already did."

She did wrong too. Liv knew that. You don't supposedly move on in a few hours when you love someone as much as she did Gen.

Livanna had issues, she knew that-- but she couldn't just wallow. She's the type of person to battle her hurt with something else. That's just how it went.

And look where it got her.

"All this time I kept my mouth shut, tried to swallow whatever hurt you shoved down my throat the moment you walked out that door, I kept to myself, I stayed away from you, I left you alone but the second you find out that I slept with someone else that's when you start talking to me about everything? No, I... just no. You left. You. You left fully aware what you were doing-- Knowing it'd hurt me, knowing that I'd send eighty-two missed calls, one-hundred and twenty messages--"

"I-... you left knowing that I'm madly in love with you."

The last part wasn't meant to come out. It was meant to be past tensed or whatever the hell it was... at least it was meant to be.

But it was the truth.

"I... I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can'tIcan'tIcan't." Tears threatened to fall and it'd ultimately sped her heart up, everything she just said only now catching up to her brain.

Liv made a move to walk away from Gen.

She wasn't good with emotional talks, arguments, confrontation, and the fact that she'd just laid everything out there? Everything that was on her chest? Liv needed to get far, far away from anything Gen related. She knew the thoughts of her would threaten to break through, to haunt her over and over and replay this exact moment in her head until it was 6AM and she'd barely gotten a minute of sleep, she knew she'd use this to drown herself in another seven pills tonight, Liv knew this meant that she was going to find someone who'd want some 'fun.' tonight.

Because that's all Livanna Moore was good for.

For fun.

Nobody likes mixing their feelings with fun.

It was a recipe for disaster.

And Livanna? She was practically a ticking time bomb.
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
"Dangerously soft"
Amethyst Jones
@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their status to:
What in the world? How drunk am I?

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their outfit to:
Jinkies 🤓

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

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Kane, Javi, Trev

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Zeph ( Winona Winona ), Lin ( ohdittoh ohdittoh ), Charlie ( geminiy geminiy ), Cole ( sunshineysoul sunshineysoul )
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Maybe just maybe She'd drank a little too much a little too fast with Trev. What could she say she wanted to have fun tonight and step one of that was drinking with her best bud. step two was now finding her other best bud so that she could drink even more around her! She would say with, but Charlie wasn't drinking tonight and even Amy's very fuzzy mindset knew that was a good idea. With twitter being as toxic as ever she didn't want to risk having to pull Charlie off someone...or trying to because lord knows at this rate she'd fall into a fight before stopping one. Her goal was Charlie, but if she found someone like Josie, or Kane, or Javi in the process she wouldn't mind that either. She'd had a shitty few weeks and she wanted to let loose and be with her friends for once.

In the mist of her walking she felt a light thunk on the back of her head, "What the? She turned around confused but too fast for her balance and her glasses fell to the floor. In true Velma style she dropped to the ground to pick them up but instead found a...bottle cap? Was this what hit her? Why were bottle caps falling from the sky? Wait she was inside? Why were they falling from the ceiling? Why was it raining caps inside a building? She placed her glasses back on her face before looking up to investigate to find none other then her Daphne hanging upside down from the banister.

Wait why was he still up there? Didn't Zeph get him...Wait is that Zeph!? Her eyes went wide looking at the large boy also hanging beside Lin from the banister upside down....both chuging something? Was that soda? She supposed that was less dangerous then beer, but still not safe in the slightest. She stood up walking towards them. See this was why no one was worried when Lin mentioned being hung on the banister earlier by Landon. Well Charlie was, but that's different. This was proof he didn't mind such ridiculous things and in fact was in no real danger. Now she doesn't support Landon hanging people off banisters because even if Lin and apparently Zeph don't think it's dangerous it most certainly is.

"What the hell are you two-?" She asked looking at them both before realizing what it probably was, and the confirmation came louder then she expected as Lin shouted at what felt like the top of his lungs (though to be honest he could probably go louder, much to her dismay). Of course, it was a bet. He was a dare and bet junkie and it was the oddest thing to her to see. However Charlie loved it, so she accepted it. Plus it seemed no one ever was hurt because of it.

Then an idea came to her mind as a smirk curled onto her lips, "Um Lin I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but as a third party observer of this little shindig of a dare. Zeph beat you to the punch. You may have released the bottle from your lips first, but Zeph's soda was gone first." She chimed as innocently as possible considering she was defiantly buzzing. Did she actually know that? No it honestly looked like a tie, but seeing him throw the bottle let her know it was definitely Lin who'd hit her in the head with a bottle cap and she was just drunk enough to be just petty enough to hold that against him. "Congrats Zeph you bet Lin of all people at his own game. How does it feel?" She asked like he'd just won the Super-bowl while clapping.

Was he the first to beat Lin at something? Of course not. Amy kicked his butt in video games all the time, but they kept that their little secret. Not to mention Lin was a sore loser, and it was funny to watch if she was honest. Was that mean of her? Maybe. She grinned at Lin, "I can't wait to tell Char you got your first lost." She teased giggling. "Kidding, I won't tell her so long as you pinky promise no more banister shenanigans tonight." She waged her finger at him before crossing her arms, "Charlie is gonna be real mad if you ruin your plans tonight because you broke something from falling." She reminded him.

Speaking of Charlie that's right she needed to go find her. "Welp my job here is done, I'mma go find Char, bye guys have fun, but not too much fun." She hummed before walking off to find her best friend. She probably should've guessed she'd find her with Sheriff Woody. She skipped over towards them and tossed her arms over her smaller friend and resting her own head on top of hers, "Freddyyyyyyyy I found you!" She grinned and looked up at Cole, "Hello to you too partner." She giggled in a way that definitely gave away that she'd been drinking. "guess what apparently Josie found the pool! Though I don't think she will be swimming since Gus doesn't want his blunt to get wet." She hummed and closed her eyes a moment. "I love Halloween. Hope I'm not intruding, I can go find someone else's head to lean on if you're busy~"
º º code by ditto º º
 
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Cool Kids by Echosmith
Jace West
"Who am I to tell me who I am?"

Ah, so JJ and Dorian were in that awkward phase of what are we aside from buddies that do the Devil's tango? Jace got it. Totally got it. One hundred percent. Yep.

Okay, look, he didn't get it. He was bluffing. Bluffing because maybe if he pretended to get it, he'd actually be kind of cool. All the cool kids would've understood what the heck JJ was saying while with Jace? It just went right over his head because it made little sense to him. How could you not be positive of what you were with someone? Where was the logic in that?

Then again, Jace had never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend or done much of anything on the romance field since middle school -- save for an awkward crush, but that was...

That was yikes.

Old news.

"Oh," was all he managed to remark.

Luckily, some large bozo half passed out on the couch captured JJ's attention and became her newest torture victim, so she finished Jace's eye and then she was gone. His pale gaze followed after her, watching as she snatched his phone and did something, but Jace just shrugged and looked away as she did so.

Watching her was a little creepy.

And someone might think he was checking her out. Gross.

Unluckily, JJ leaving meant that Jace was once again alone at the party. Ditched and left without a single glance back at him. Alas, it was a lonely existence one Jace West lived, but it was... fine. He would just vibe right here, leaned half against the ping pong table with his arms crossed awkwardly over his chest. Uhh... maybe he should hang them by his sides. Yeah, that looked slightly less awkward. Or maybe, what if he kind of just leaned back on the tab-- okay, okay, no that was--

Callum's voice startled Jace and he nearly jumped straight out of his skin as he straightened up, eyes momentarily wide as he stared at his friend. His expression quickly softened into one that just radiated too coolio for youio energy, but the whites of his eyes became visible once more when Callum asked who he was talking to.

"Oh, that? That was uhh, that was ummm..." oh, why was the dark-haired demon's name slipping his mind right now. Jace helplessly gestured backwards in her direction as he tried to work through the cotton that was filling his mouth. "JJ," literally it was one letter -- one letter that was literally the first letter of his name, how had that escaped him? "She uhh... she was..." he pointed at his eyes, which had relaxed from their previous startled expression. "Doing my makeup.

"I'm a pirate." He explained, holding his arms out so that all of his cheap costume was visible. The only part of it that looked remotely okay and decent was the hat, which of course had been gifted from Dorian. Pretty much, he'd make a hell of a pirate if he was just the head -- what with the eyeshadow that he was sure looked amazing and the hat.

It was just the neck down that looked like garbage.

You know, the part of the costume that had been picked out and put together by one Jace West.

He returned the looking up and down as he scanned Callum's costume, his brows furrowing together as his arms fell to his side. Jace's eyes lingered on Callum's legs for a beat too long, but not because he was checking him out. Simply because he was wondering if Callum had flashed anybody with how short that skirt was. Also he had really defined legs. Must've come up with the whole dancer-y thing. Like one of the benefits. Become a dancer -- you'll have a killer body and killer hip thrusts!

"What are you supposed to be?" He asked. Well, that was a dumb question. So, Jace decided to rephrase it into something less dumb, so maybe Callum wouldn't realize just how entirely awkward and stupid he was. That's right -- Jace was aiming for Callum to think that he was totally the bee's knees, you know.

"You remind me of one of those anime girls that show up on weird porn sites."
| mood: SOS parties JJ is scary | mentions: Dorian | interactions: JJ, Callum | tags: Soap Soap hery hery |
º º code by ditto º º
 
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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, naturally, in response to Saint's suggestion that should she "really want to get into character," that many of their ill-dressed peers would be willing to... ugh... she couldn't even think it. She couldn't even utter the word (or, rather, the thought) in her head without sticking her tongue out in disgust, her nose wrinkling up, her lips drawing back.

Disgusting.

Naturally, Ava wasn't offended by the suggestion -- why would she? She was dressed as a whore and Saint was kind of right. As in, flirting with the sleazes that surrounded them would be a very uhh... well, it would be in character. And she knew JJ's type, so it would be easy to even stick to that and be really in character.

Her type being gross people like Dorian.

"Please," she said with a dismissive huff. "I might be dressed the part, but there's no way I'm living up to the part tonight... or any night." Because, well, gross. Ava didn't understand the need that so many of her classmates seemed to have to have their bed occupied by some sweaty lump of hormone-fueled idiocy. Again, the idea brought her nearly to losing her lunch on the carpet, but she managed to keep from vomiting on the floor at the thought, and even kept he face neutral.

Alright, that was a lie. Ava had RDF -- resting disgusted face, so she basically always looked like she was done or just absolutely disgusted by whatever was happening around her.

"There was this dude -- you know, the one that they called out because he's sliding into everyone's DMs with dumb fucking gifs asking to hook up or whatever. Anyway, he did that to me. Sent me a gif, called me a pretty man. It was really fucking weird." Also, insert another sentence here about Ava being nearly ready to vomit at the thought -- just as she had been on the fateful night that Javier had made the mistake of sliding into one red-headed bitch's messages.

"Long story short, I threatened to bite off his dick." Naturally. "And snap his neck and stuff, but..." she cracked a grin because in her opinion, the entire thing had been hilarious. It wasn't every day Ava got to creep people out by describing in great detail the way she would maim them if they made the mistake of appearing in her line of sight. "Anyway, morale of the story... I don't do that any other time, and I'm definitely not trying that kind of shit tonight. I have standards."

Kind of. Her "standards" were pretty much "I hate everybody, so don't even try."

Cults, whores... they'd really talked about it all tonight, and now Ava was feeling a drawl in the conversation. As in, she wasn't entirely sure how to continue. Speaking for long periods of time with people that weren't JJ was abnormal for her.

"So what about you? Going to try your luck? Use weird cat pickup lines or something?"

It was a joke. A really bad joke, but she was trying. Ava was new to this whole... socializing thing, and obviously, if it wasn't made evident by her inability to maintain conversation super well... she wasn't the best at it.
º º code by ditto º º
 

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
She watched him, her eyes glued to his face as he spoke. Her heart started pounding a little faster in her chest, and her gaze followed his to look down at their hands. Absently, she brushed her thumb across his. Her eyebrows drew together, her teeth seeking out her bottom lip to bite into again as she listened.

“Would you’ve lied ta me an’ told me that ya felt nothin’, if ya knew that this would happen…? That it’d already be this way…that the words I said were true…an’ that I’m…”

Would she...

If she had known how this would be, with the two of them exhausted and yelling on a balcony in the cool night air when they should've been inside, drinking and enjoying themselves. If she had known that this was going to happen after barely a week together, would she have taken everything back? Everything that had happened over the last month?

Homecoming. Monday. The blind date.

But it was... it had been... inevitable that eventually, they weren't going to be able to keep their feelings for each other secret. It had just been a matter of timing, right?

At least, that's how Ash saw it.

“I like you…” He opened his eyes, looking at the stars. “I jus’ don’t get why…you…do tha same fer me.”

She glanced over at him, studying his face while he was talking. Her heart felt like it skipped a beat when he said he liked her which was... stupid, because of course he did -- why else would he be out here with her? And maybe it was nice to hear when she had been so certain, even after the events of the fair, that he was... lying or something. About liking her.

Ash turned her gaze away from him to look down at the cement of the balcony again. Her teeth chewed into her bottom lip. He didn't understand why she liked him back.

Well... she didn't, either.

She couldn't put it into words -- why she liked Trevor. Which was... weird, because she'd always had reasons before. She'd had things that she could name, and she could place her feelings when she was dating Nico, or Dorian, or Cole -- Ash knew why she liked them beyond a shadow of a doubt. She knew.

However, Ash didn't...

She liked Trevor. She knew she liked him.

She just didn't know why.

A wave of guilt washed over her, temporarily leaving Ash's head swimming and her stomach twisting in inexplicable knots. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the feelings of nausea to subside.

“For my birthday?” he spoke again, and she opened her eyes and turned her head to meet his gaze, "Oh, how sweet... You remembered."

And for a moment, it felt like things were okay. He was looking at her, he had taken her topic change. They weren't yelling and his hand was still holding onto hers, and Ash's panic was starting to subside. The anger, the fight, the everything of the night that had gone wrong started to fade from her memory.

Until he looked away, and her smile fell.

She looked back down at the cold cement of the patio.

Ash sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly before turning her head to look at Trevor again. At first, she didn't talk -- she just looked at him, studying his face, her lips parted slightly.

"No," she said, and then squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. "I-I mean, no... like, no, I don't... I don't regret this." Her eyes fluttered back open and she looked down at their intertwined hands. Her thumb brushed over his hand again and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, a smile cracking at the edges of her lips as she talked.

"Because I'd rather be like... this, like... together, even if we're fighting, than whatever we were before." She explained, her tone losing the tentative, wavering edge that it'd held before -- because for the first time tonight, Ash was actually confident in what she was saying. "I think, like... the only thing I'd regret -- like, the one I'd change about it all..." she hesitated, biting her lip as her eyes flickered up towards the stars for a moment, before she started again, "like, on that Monday -- after Homecoming? When I gave you back your sweater, and like... went to your apartment after school, like... I wish I'd kiss you then, instead of ummm.... you know."

Instead of trying to ignore everything. Instead of saying forget it, it was nothing when they had both clearly known that it was anything but that. If Ash could change anything, it would've been the length of time that her and Trevor had spent lying to each other and themselves. It had just... hurt them more, in the long run.

If she could change anything, it would be that. The needless hurting. The confusion.

"And it's..." again, she felt herself at a loss for the exact words she was looking for. She shrugged helplessly, keeping her gaze on the stars as if the sky might provide her with some of much needed answer. "Trevor, I like you, like... a lot. You don't need to understand why I like you, just... know that I do, okay?"

Because she didn't understand either, just that she did.

It might have been LA, but the night air was still cold and some mixture of the alcohol and now how exhausted she felt from whatever dumb argument they'd just had led to Ash being freaking cold, even with the oversized sweatshirt still covering her small frame.

She didn't want to suggest going inside, or changing anything right now, though. They'd somehow pieced together the shattered foundation of their relationship, but things still felt so... tentative. As if one wrong move, or one wrong word, or one wrong look would just cause everything to shatter again like glass.

Ash looked back at Trevor, laying her head against the house. A small smile twitched at the edges of her lips as she studied his face.
º º code by ditto º º
 
"I don't just follow trends, I set them..."
Evelyn Sinclaire
@SinClaire has set status to:
"Tequila me, please."

@SinClaire has set outfit to:
Bad bitch Bonnie (but better)

@SinClaire has set location to:
Johannes Residence

@SinClaire has interacted with:
Nate.

@SinClaire has tagged:

Winona Winona
Evie hadn’t expected things to sour so soon into the party. The argument between Gen and Mike….and Liv? It had been a lot. Okay, if Evie was being honest, like 100% honest, she could see everyone’s side. Mike was Mike and Liv had been heartbroken and lonely, Gen had been scared and now she was also heartbroken and angry. It was just a messy triangle and Evie would rather stay out of it. Unfortunately, with her best friend in the line of fire that wasn’t an option.

Evie could tell Gen the undeniable truth in private. That Liv might've been wrong and that Mike was a douche, but she wasn't innocent in this either. Maybe it was harsh and sure, it wasn't what Gen wanted to hear but that wasn't Evie's style. Hell, it wasn't Gen's either. Both girls were known to be pretty blunt with other people but especially with each other. So, while Evie was definitely going to comfort her friend and remind her that she wasn't a piece of shit while also reminding her to take it easy on Liv.

But now, here was Gen rushing to find a piece of jewelry that she'd so quickly turned to social media to explain was meant for...oh god. As much as Evie tried to convince her best friend that finding her ex and giving her a necklace, especially after such a huge Twitter blow-up, was a bad idea it just wasn't sticking. In the matter of half an hour or less, Gen had managed to get too wasted for any advice to actually matter.

This is probably why when Nate asked if she wanted to check on their friend, the brunette almost said no. She knew that nothing they said would change Gen's mind but they could at least make sure she wasn't crying her eyes out or passed out somewhere. So she gave a quick nod and led Nate off towards Ash's room where Gen had claimed she was a few minutes earlier.

Just as she'd expected, the girl had already left but the bottle of tequila (which was mostly gone) was still on the bed so Evie walked over and picked it up. What? Gen left it and she was trying to get wasted. Unscrewing the top, she downed what was left and tossed it on the bed again. Sorry, Ash.

Evie turned back to face Nate and offered a shrug as if to say 'oh well' or something. "Apparently, Liv really needs that birthday present. I'm sure Gen will catch up with us later," she said as she walked back to the door and motioned for him to come with her back downstairs. There was no reason for them to remain on the top floor and to be honest, the liquor was finally starting to kick in. Evie wanted to find something more interesting to do besides sit in Ash's room.

It should be noted that Evelyn hadn't seen this so-called "Wall Of Evie" shrine in Ash's room but she was still convinced it was there somewhere. After all, she hadn't checked the closet or anything.

"Well, what's it gonna be? We have expensive tequila and a whole night ahead of us," Evie said as they walked down the stairs, heading straight back into the crowd. Her eyes scanned the faces looking for a familiar one, at least one decent enough for them to hang out with. Not that she wasn't good with just Nate but they were starting to look really relationship-y being alone together at every event. Besides, this was a party. Mix and mingle, that was the whole point.

º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: face grabbing part 2

OUTFIT: princess fit courtesy of tou lolololol

LOCATION: gen/eli's place
basics
MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
Kio.exe Kio.exe (Kane)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Javier Cervantes
Javier had been giggling incessantly the entire time, but when Kane's finger prodded his cheek, it burst into an even more intense giggling fit—so much that he actually had to stop himself to breathe every few seconds. He made a flimsy attempt to swat his hand away, instead completely missing the mark and letting his hand drift back down to his side. A teeny tiny part of him was aware he probably looked like an idiot from an outside perspective, but he couldn't deny how satisfying it was to be relieving his tension and remembering his childhood in a good light.

"Fifth grade Javi was a f-fuckin' G, I'll tell ya that," the inebriated boy assured his babysitter, a bit more aggressively jabbing him in the chest, "But his brother, see, he was cool n' all 'til he wasn't. Fuckin'... fuckin'... wimpy, loser little..." He cut himself off, unsure if this was the time he'd actually get sick. Fortunately, it was a false alarm. ".... bitch. The punk is too cool for me now. Th-thinks he's all smart n' shit 'cause he's my mom and dad's f-favorite."

Javier had to stop himself again, this time more painfully clutching his stomach, which was no doubt angry at him for drinking so much so fast. "Smoke machines sound cool 'n all, but... fuck that, dude. Halloween's not about galas and diamonds and competitions an' shit... 'cept for the costume contest." He was beginning to get more riled up, but Kane's gentle grazing of his cheek stopped him from sitting up and ranting and raving about what he proclaimed to be the true Halloween spirit, like some kind of Christmas movie.

He was initially surprised that Kane had rejected his offering of tequila, although it soon made sense even with the tiny amount of brain power he was using. Sure, the guy had been drunk off his ass and in horrible shape not two weeks ago, but come on. Everyone says they're done partying after the party, but that's only a wishy-washy way of alleviating the mental pain of knowing one let themself wreack havoc on their liver.

With closed eyes, Javi smirked, once again amazed by the enigma that was Kane Blackmore. Everyone could patronize him until he was a bumbling baby, but he knew better. The solemn tenderness he was radiating as he held Javi spoke volumes. As capable as he was in channeling the childlike sincerity within, it was clear as the tiny path of tequila-infused drool dribbling out of Javi's cheek the kind of person Kane was. Ironically (or perhaps not—Kane was older than Javi, after all), he was eons more mature than Javi could ever hope to be. It was the tall boy's nurturing attitude that confirmed it for Javier, reassuring him that he was okay to let go and be a drunk, oversharing idiot in the midst of everything going on around them. And, as a plus, he'd already forgotten the pain he'd just suffered from Juliette's brief appearance.

"I'm glad you got to experience that stuff too," Javi murmured affectionately, totally buying into the convincing narrative Kane was spewing out of his mouth, "Family in general is fucked. An' maybe I hate mine, but they're the reason I have these memories, so..." the muscular princess trailed off, scouring through his thoughts and picking pieces of what he recalled from Kane's story to think of what he, well, thought, "... credit's due where credit's due. An' I s'pose it made you the candy-snorting freak you are today."

Javier howled at that one, slicing through the peace of it all for a few moments as he regained his calm. "I don't know if I like all that rich asshole extra-ness, but hey, at least Daddi-o seems pretty coo-ool," he concluded, burping toward the end of his thought.

"Now, I know we can't all be me, but I h-hereby give you the Javier Cervantes pass of greatness, good for one cool as fuck story to tell." He waggled his finger in front of Kane's face, aimlessly jerking his limp hand left and right. "You n' me, we're in the big boy league now. Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's Day, MLK Day... hell, goddamn Groundhog day... we're getting up to some real crazy shit. 'Cause that's what you're supposed to do when you're old. It's the same dumbassery kids do, except probably more illegal and probably more dangerous." He smirked, placing a hand to hold Kane's chin, squeezing his cheek. "Best part of getting older, depending on the perspective, is l-letting people down. Do whatever the fuck you want."
code by valen t.
 
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:
Charlie, Jo, and Amy

@callaghandsome has interacted with:
Ash

@callaghandsome has tagged:
Winona Winona

@callaghandsome has written a tl;dr:
Trevor rambles some.
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There was a dead silence for a few moments after his words left his mouth, and Trevor considered just closing his eyes and ceasing to exist in that moment. He knew that it wasn’t possible— that time carried on, that the blackness that his eyelids made only went as far as his eyelids went— but he was…he just would have rather have had that point-oh-oh-two seconds of…not tense, not awkward conversation to have been the end of this conversation.

He was past angry, he was past upset, and he was past…even thinking. He was tired, and he just wanted to sit in silence, like he had come out here to do in the first place.

He heard her breathe out a long breath. His eyes moved from the concrete of the balcony up slowly to his girlfriend, who he found was looking right back at him. She was silent, and, for some reason, his heart beat in his throat.

No, he knew the reason.

He had that fear— that fear that she was going to just…take back what she had said, take back the “forgetting” that she’d asked him to do, take back what she’d said about liking him a lot, take back what she’d said about him not being a bad guy…

Take back everything.

Take back everything everything.

Take back what she’d confessed to him on that Friday— last Friday, which felt so long ago already.

Take back the kiss that she’d planted on him after that had happened.

Take back the Friday night before that— homecoming.

Homecoming, when their whole thing had grown into a thing thing…

When they’d made out on his couch and been cockblocked by his grandmother…

When he’d realized that there could be more.

Take back everything.

Go back to the conclusion that they’d made on Monday: just friends. Barely friends, at that.

Would she even remember him after they broke up?

"No," she said.

His brows furrowed.

No?

Was she rejecting his thanks for her thoughtfulness for his birthday, or…?

“I-I mean, no...like, no, I don’t…”

His brows slid upwards, but the confusion in his hazel eyes remained as he studied her face.

“I don't regret this."

His heart thudded solidly in his chest, and his eyes flicked down to their hands.

She…didn’t regret…them?

Her thumb brushed over his hand.

His eyes went back to her face, the confusion in them subsiding for relief, and his pulse beat heavily in his throat as her lips cracked into a smile.

"Because I'd rather be like…this, like...together, even if we're fighting, than whatever we were before." Her voice was confident, and he couldn’t look away from her. Seeing her smile and speak so firmly, after everything that this night had thrown at them…seeing her was strange, and striking, and…

Damn

"I think, like...the only thing I'd regret— like, the one I'd change about it all..."

He hung on her words, and when she hesitated, he felt his pulse drum in his throat again.

“…like, on that Monday— after Homecoming? When I gave you back your sweater, and like...went to your apartment after school, like…”

He looked down at their hands, intertwined, and he tucked his lips in, working them against one another.

“I wish I'd kiss you then, instead of ummm....you know."

Yeah…yeah, he knew.

He had wished the same thing.

He’d wished that he’d said screw my intellect, screw my judgement, screw the future, screw the consequences and kissed her there, too.

But…

So…

That meant…

His heart beat in his chest, another wave of relief washing over him, and he looked up at her, his eyes asking really?.

She was looking at the stars, and, looking at her, his questions fell from his gaze.

"And it's..."

It’s…

It went silent, and Trevor found himself unable to think as he hung on the words that Ash seemed to have forgotten.

"Trevor, I like you, like...a lot. You don't need to understand why I like you, just...know that I do, okay?"

She…

He cracked a smile.

I like you, like…a lot.

Well…

How could he ever be mad at that?

He could stop thinking for a second, stop thinking and stop…stop.

Stop it…

Stop and stare.

She leaned her head back against the house, and he felt his smile falter when she met his eyes.

A breeze blew through, and Trevor felt his skin prick up, reminding him that he’d been stopping and staring for too long.

He shook his head slightly, trying to awaken some thought, and he looked away from Ash, blowing air through his lips. “I…er, ah…”

He couldn’t talk again, which wasn’t supposed to happen when he was this drunk.

“I…I like you, too.”

He’d said that before.

“Like, a lot, too.”

That came out a bit mockingly.

He leaned his head back, too mentally exhausted to try to correct his mistake.

He was drunk, recently angry, and recently (currently?— there didn’t need to be a question mark after currently, because he nearly always was, anyway) horny, and he just…

He wanted her to be able to read his mind— and to accept what he was thinking, and to just…he didn’t know, to make her see that what he was saying and what he was thinking was the truth.

All of the I’m sorrys that he’d dropped because they’d argued, all of the reasons why he was bad medicine and all of the signs that this wouldn’t and couldn’t work out, all of the…shitty things that he’d thought…

He wished that he could read his own mind, but…thinking was harder and stricter when he was as intoxicated as he currently was.

Everything either came at him all at once, or nothing came at all except for words from his mouth— and now, nothing came at all.

He didn’t know what he could say. Anything else that he could say would disturb this peace and would fuck everything up even more.

Even more…?

“Ash, I have a…question.”

He didn’t think of the words before they came out, and when they did come out, he dreaded what would come next.

“I…ah…”

What was he even going to ask…?

He trailed off, lowering his eyes to the concrete again.

“I…I…”

He rubbed his hand across hers, looking back up at her, and he smiled slightly again.

“Did ya ever jus’…want ta…fast-forward everythin’?”

What kind of question was that?

He shook his head slightly. “I…ah…I jus’ mean…”

What did he mean…?

He looked up at the stars.

“When everythin’ seems shite…when ya don’t know what’s comin’ next an’ jus’…don’t wanna know…do ya ever wish that you could just…skip? Jus’…skip from point A to point B, let everythin’ dramatic and bad and painful happen offscreen and skip to tha inane, benign parts…? Like…do ya ever wish that ya could jus’ skip all tha fightin’, all tha cryin’ an’ tha anger and bullshite that does nothin’ but dig holes deeper an’ skip ta…tha smilin’ an’ tha…oh, I dunno…”

He was rambling, as he tended to do, and he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the house.

“Like, tonight…I’d’ve skipped tanight— skipped ta right now. Skipped to tha part where you an’ me were jus’ sittin', all calm, an’ not talkin’ an’ jus’ sittin’…or maybe to tha part where ya said ya liked me…” He laughed softly. “…’cuz I liked ta hear that. Skipped past tha part where I destroyed— or tried ta...or whatever…destroy our foundations for our relationship…skipped past tha…whatever I said…I dunno, I forgot it, like ya asked me to…” He sighed quietly.

He found it hard to get his next words out. When they came out, they were slurred, like the rest of his speech, and uttered in a quiet voice that was hardly even audible. “An’ I’d jus’…skip ta now…or skip ta tha…later, ya know? Skip ta tha part when we’re at our best…skip ta tha…oh, I dunno…”

He trailed off, his brows furrowing as he tried to find the words that he hadn't known in the first place, trying to find his spot on a trail that he hadn't seen at all.

He couldn't.

He shook his head slightly, and when he opened his eyes, his eyes read thoughtfulness.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes studying her face, and then, he uttered another random, slurred sentence:

“Ya know…" He cracked a grin, laughing quietly and giving his head a small shake. "I feckin' hate Halloween.”
º º code by ditto º º
 
"waste of my time..."
saint taylor
@sainttay has set his status to:
Drinks...?

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

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

@sainttay has mentioned:
Javi...

@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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Saint let out an amused puff of air from his nose at Ava’s description of the threats that she’d given some unnamed dm invader. “Moral of the story, I need to take my dumb fucking gifs about hooking up elsewhere…,” he kidded lightly, shaking his head slightly. “I can’t say that I’ve heard of this mysterious— certainly genius— hookup vigilante…does he come in the night to take the fuckboy crown, like a slutty spy…? I don’t think that I know a single thing about him…” And, even if Ava could tell him a name, Saint couldn’t say that he’d know of who the person was. He tended not to pay attention to others if he could help from it, especially those who made it their goals to use others as means to ends, as this mysterious hookup giffer, masked in a veil of anonymity, that Ava spoke about. “I must critique his technique, though…if he were intending to get anyone with those gifs, then he should have used a more gender-neutral gif…’pretty man’ probably doesn’t leave the best of impressions on strangers who don’t happen to be men, I don’t figure…”

He snickered quietly, shaking his head. “I’d’ve liked to see his face when he read the threats, though…those are impressive ones. Unique ones, definitely…I’ll recall those threats when I need to scare off my own fans who slide into my dms with bizarre hookup gifs…I’ll even give you a cut of the profits and credit you with in-text citations, as I should.”

Yes, that was a joke. Would Saint ever threaten someone to bite their dick off? Probably not. He was more gentle than that.

Then again, he never really knew what circumstances he would be in; those threats may very well prove useful.

At Ava’s questions, Saint let out another amused puff of air, shaking his head slightly as he looked at the cheap-looking bats. “Cat pickup lines…such as…” He cracked a grin at his thoughts, letting out another soft puff of air. “’Let’s talk, from one pussy to another’…?” He chuckled audibly, and then shook his head, dropping his hand from his face .”Oh, perhaps not that one, because it sounds more like a challenge, doesn’t it…? I’d rather not have to bang up some guy out back…in a way other than in that way,” he kidded lightly. “I don’t think that that line would work with the females either…though many are wearing such little clothes and drinking so much tonight that they might actually take that line and run with it…you never know with some people, do you…?” He snickered softly, shaking his head. “Or…let’s see…hm…”

He looked around, searching for another joke in his thoughts as his eyes scanned the room aimlessly. Nothing came to him— puns never were his strong suit— and he shook his head, letting out another soft puff of air from his nose. “Perhaps cat pickup lines aren’t meant to be…those who they’d work on probably would accept anything regardless, right…?” He snickered, shaking his head slightly. “Though, if you were to coach me, you could tell me to ‘go get ‘em, tiger’…give me a towel to cool off afterwards, hold my cup as I drain it of the water inside, and, when my nose starts to bleed, shove a tissue up it and give me a harsh pat on the back to keep me on track, hm…?”

He was, again, kidding, and he snickered softly and cracked another small grin. “I think that I’m going to get myself another drink,” he said, picking up his cup. “Would you like to come along with…? If you’re not a fan of liquor, I’m sure that the coke up there would whet your whistle.” By coke, Saint meant soda, in general, and not cocaine or specifically Coca-Cola. He nodded in the direction of the table. “A small field trip, if you will…”

He looked at Ava once more. “Beside, in my opinion, there’s no better place to observe the people than the epicenter of much of the chaos.”
º º code by ditto º º
 

Hunter Drake
How are you feeling?
supporting her the only way I can
What are you wearing?
Where are you?
Party
Did you mention anyone?
Nickie
Who are you talking to?
Some foxy lady
And, like, tagging?
Hunter kept a reassuring hand along Nickie's neck, rubbing it slowly.

He didn't know what else to do. Even though he had way too much practice in handling someone on their knees and puking into a bucket, trashcan, toilet — whatever was nearby, really — he never knew what to say. It wasn't that Hunter Drake was socially awkward or anything like. Lord knew that anyone who knew a fraction of the boy he was, he could chatter on in any way that the situation demanded, or really however he fucking felt like. Hunter could talk about how amazing a dress was on a girl he just passed in the hall or the song he just listened to, or even about how much Chas Marino meant to him.

But holding quality conversation while someone was puking their guts out? That wasn't a situation anybody could handle gracefully, let alone knowing what to say.

So he just kept repeating the same words: "It's okay, Nickie" as reassuringly as he could. It's why he kept massaging her neck. If she felt like she was relaxed — safe even — then maybe her nausea would stop. Hunter had known about the process for a while and he hated to think it was something he did, but his father often was upset or disturbed by something that enhanced his stomach spilling over itself. He didn't want to go there yet. For all he knew, she was just a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

“S-Sorry I ran off like that.”

"Hey, you don't need to apologize, alright?" Hunter said as he tried to keep his hand along the base of her neck/shoulders, hoping that would aid in her overcoming this. But then Hunter caught something.

Well, it wasn't so much that his eyes caught something, but he felt her shoulders tremble.

She's shaking, Hunter thought as he kneeled down closer to her, hearing her say the S-word once more.

"Hey, hey.." Hunter's voice came out soft and full of concern for her, "what's wrong?" He heard himself ask and their eyes met. He saw something that looked liked watery eyes, albeit closed, and his heart was pounding so fast that he didn't have time to control it. "Hey! Nickie, what's wrong? You can talk to me. Please talk to me!" Hunter pleaded with her. He didn't have the faintest of ideas why her shoulders were shaking or why it seemed like she was crying (or about to cry). But he wanted to help. Hunter was here to help in any way he can. "Listen, I'm going anywhere. I'm here for you, Nickie!" He said as he kept rubbing her neck in a supportive manner.





º º code by ditto º º​
 
MOOD: judging

OUTFIT: maid costume

LOCATION: the johannes mansion
basics
MENTIONS:
Oates
INT:
Winona Winona (Jace)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Callum Richards
Callum’s ice-cold stare threatened to turn Jace to stone, offering no comfort to the socially awkward teenager. He half listened to him speak, focusing the rest of his attention on his friend’s bad posture. Callum couldn’t talk, being a sloucher himself, but nevertheless he was mystified by Jace’s bizarre choice to lean against a ping pong table, which was far too short and flimsy to ever support someone’s weight. He was impressed the thing didn’t collapse before Jace straightened himself, however one look at the lanky blonde was enough to explain why.

“Nice makeup,” he commented flatly, the volume of his voice far too low to be even close to audible. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before Callum repeated more loudly, “Nice makeup.” He looked down at Jace’s costume, his face showing no hint of interest or amusement. “You look good.” Well, not really. But insulting Jace wasn’t the friendly thing to do and Callum was well-versed in the art of doing just the bare minimum so as to not come off as a total callous psychopath. “You’re like that pirate from Spongebob, except a lot less hairy. And kind of stuck in the middle of being twelve and twenty-five.” So, well-versed might have been a stretch, but who doesn’t fib every now and then? Well, Callum doesn’t, but today we’ve learned not to follow his example.

The reluctant maid waited ever-so-patiently as Jace scrutinized every detail of his legs, which he’d almost forgotten were nearly bare due to the oppressive heat of teenage sweat and the unwelcome heat that came from the alcohol beginning to absorb into his veins. Drinking then standing around for a while will do that to a person, after all. “You’re looking at my legs a lot,” he pointed out, more matter-of-factly than accusatory.

“I’m a maid, if you couldn’t tell. And before you get any ideas, it sure as hell wasn’t mine,” he replied, “Oates told me about this guy in a maid dress he saw on the internet once. He really got a kick out of it.” Was it that obvious that he was trying to win points with Oates? Callum didn’t think so, but who knew what kind of judgements Jace was capable of. He seemed alright at dishing it out, even if he was kind of a sad person. Sad in his own pathetic way—Callum at least had a shred of dignity, even in this maid getup. Not that the boy cared much, if at all. He still liked Jace a great deal more than most of their other classmates.

“You like anime porn?” he remarked quizzically, this time doing his own bit of silent judging. Even through his monotonous tone there was a twinge of disdain that transcended beyond the boundaries of curiosity. Callum had watched his fair share of anime; hell, he’d gone down his own internet rabbit holes at 2 a.m. before. But to openly admit to that? That was embarrassing, even for the only other guy in school who made the claim that he didn’t care what the others thought of him.

code by valen t.
 
Genevieve Johannes
@genjohanne has set their status to:
some things are best left in the past unless you can't move on

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
disheveled

@genjohanne has set their location to:
the backyard

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Ash, Adriane, Mike

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Liv

@genjohanne has tagged:
Soap Soap
The burn of alcohol ripping down the flesh of her esophagus was the only feeling that was tolerable to Gen at the moment. The comforting smell of Ash’s perfume lingering on her carefully made bed nor the feeling of soft, plush blankets made no difference to the whirlwind inside of Gen’s head. The air flowing in through the cracked window did little to cool the heat radiating off the back of her neck, the sweat sticking her hair to the smooth skin of her face. The sound of the party was drowned out by the constricting walls and the intrusive thoughts, a symphony of noise battling for her attention.

It was all too much to feel.

Gen knew exactly what she wanted to feel, which sensation she was desperately searching for in the darkness that had begun to cloud her judgement and rendered her mind incapable of logical thought. She wanted to feel numb, to reach the final stages of emptiness that would leave her little more than a hollow husk of herself. So, instead of attempting to feel, Gen had grabbed a bottle of tequila from underneath Ash’s bed and had begun to drown her pain in a sea of alcohol.

Nothing was a good feeling. It was empty, lonely, harsh. Nothing blocked out feelings that were difficult to identify and even more difficult to deal with. With feelings came pain of the body, mind, and soul and Gen, forever the fool, wanted nothing to do with the beauty of feelings if they brought her agony. No, feelings brought choked sobs and staggered breathing and trembling hands. Feelings encouraged the rolling pain in her abdomen and the dull throb in her skull and the shredding agony in her chest.

Feelings were brutal and violent and endless and agonizing and fuck it, Gen deserved them. Numbness was a release that Gen hadn’t earned.

Swirling the contents of the bottle around, Gen’s eyes traced the whirlpool inside the glass as, slowly but surely, she began to cry. At first, they were silent tears that carved careful paths through the fake blood and eyeliner painted carefully onto her face. They evolved into quiet sobs, bubbling up into choked sobs that left her chest burning and her head pounding. Her body was hot, the carefully pinned hair falling with the shaking of her frame and sticking to her skin.

Gen ripped the crown from her hair and threw it to the ground, the final locks of hair pooling around her shoulders. She certainly didn’t feel like a fucking queen.

The thin wooden box beside her on the bed caught Gen’s eye once again. Carefully reaching over, she took the box in her hands and looked at the patterns on the surface. Beautiful flowers were etched into the surface by an expert’s hand, the hinges and clasp a pristine and gem-encrusted rose gold. Carefully flipping open the lid, Gen’s heart twisted in pain at the locket inside, gently lifting it from the velvet bed it laid upon.

Going with Adriane to Italy had been a mistake, Gen knew that as soon as she had gotten on the plane with her. If there had been any way to get the flight to turn around and to have taken her back to Liv that very day, Gen would’ve done it. There had been a moment after she landed that Gen considered just booking herself another flight back to L.A. for later that night. But then her luggage had arrived and Adriane seemed so excited and Gen’s manager had shown up. She was whisked away into her trip without much of another thought to it.

The entire time, Gen thought about Liv. Every fitting, every photoshoot, every dinner, every time she slept with Adriane. Liv never left Gen’s mind, not for a moment, but Gen did her best to hide it with her dazzling smiles and soft touches and calculated words. She masqueraded as the confident woman that everyone knew for the entire two-and-a-half month trip. There had been so many times that Gen had picked up her phone to reply to the missed texts and calls from Liv, so many nights that she would look outside at the bustling streets below her hotel room and wish for nothing more than to dance with Liv in them.

Why hadn’t she?

Gen wasn’t sure of the answer to her own question. Maybe it was fear that what she had done was right, that her actions painted a lovely picture of who she actually was as a person. Maybe it was the fear that she was wrong and that the abandoning of Liv had cut far deeper than the pain of loving someone could ever have. There was very little that Gen knew with absolute certainty during her trip to Italy but the very fact that she was in love with Livanna Moore was crystal clear.

Gen hadn’t been able to sleep one night, her thoughts holding slumber hostage through the late hours of the evening and into the morning. She had gotten up to go on a walk while the streets of Milan were rather empty, browsing elegant storefront windows as the sun began to rise above the city. The insomnia continued for days, as did the walks. Gen would return long before Adri was awake, needing the time alone with the world before each day began.

It was on one of those walks that Gen had taken a new path for a change of scenery when there, in a small hole-in-the-wall jeweler’s window was a locket. Even in the grey morning light, the diamond at the top and the polished gold of the face glistened brightly. She stopped, peering inside at the necklace that was carefully placed around a fabric holder. It was beautiful, circular like a pocket watch just slightly smaller than the palm of Gen’s hand. Flowers and leaves and vines were handmade from rose gold, opal glimmering behind the open patterns. It was simple, warm, unique, beautiful. Gen had waited for two hours outside of the shop until the owner came in, purchasing the one of a kind locket right off the shelf and, upon returning to the hotel, hid it in the bottom of her suitcase.

She had planned to give the locket and an elaborate and truthful apology to Liv as soon as she had landed. But Genevieve Johannes was a damn coward. She waited by Liv’s locker, stood outside her apartment complex, had texts planned. Every single time that Liv came into view, Gen left. She was terrified of her response, both the best and worst case scenarios causing Gen to panic. So, instead of giving the locket to Liv, Gen shoved it in her wardrobe where it had sat until just moments ago when she had drunkenly ripped it out and locked herself in Ash’s room.

Gen watched as Liv, Callum, and Oates walked up the driveway. Her buzz was fading in lieu of paralyzing fear. Was she dressed as Wonder Woman? Gen couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Of course she was, it made sense.After all, Liv was a real life superhero to Gen. Pulling her heels off and wiping the remaining makeup sloppily off her face, Gen made her way downstairs with the necklace box in her hand. She was going to finally confront Liv, she was really gonna do it this time. No backing out, no running away, no making excuses. She was going to do it.

The two had practically run into each other at the bottom of the stairs. Gen was too drunk to watch where she was going causing her to nearly crash right into the significantly shorter girl. Although she had managed to calm her crying, Gen almost burst into tears at the sight of her. For the first time since their breakup, Gen was seeing her up close. Instead of admiring from afar, Liv was right there in front of her.

Every defensive word, every coping strategy, every comeback fled from her body as soon as Liv started talking. All Gen could do was stand there, her eyes threatening to once again spill tears, and listen to what Liv had to say. She wished that there was something she could do. The very sight of Liv hurting was breaking her heart, the pain only becoming worse when Gen realized that she was the reason someone she loved so much was hurting. But she couldn’t do a damn thing.

Hell, maybe if Gen had stopped and listened the first time maybe they wouldn’t be in this stupid situation.

The entire time Liv talked, she didn’t say a single thing that wasn’t true. Gen knew that she had fucked up, that she was the catalyst that pushed their chemistry over the edge. She knew that Liv deserved better. She knew that Liv was in the right for sleeping with Mike and that Genevieve was a damn hypocrite for saying anything otherwise. Gen had left without a word and took another girl on the trip that she had handcrafted for herself and Liv.

Gen was the very type of person she hated.

"I... I'm sorry, I can't do this. I can'tIcan'tIcan't."

“Wait.”

Gen’s hand shot out, grabbing Liv’s hand. She hadn’t told her muscles to move, they simply did on their own. Looking down at her hand around Liv’s, Gen’s lower lip began to tremble. How many times had she thought about holding Liv’s hand again, how hard she had tried to remember what Liv’s skin felt like on her’s.

Gen was fucking pathetic.

“I-”

Gen couldn’t speak.

“Liv-”

There was nothing she could say so instead, Gen acted. Pulling Liv along behind her, Gen stepped into the office and slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her exposed back against the cool wood of the door. The party was no place to have an argument and the last thing Gen needed was for the entirety of Hollywood Arts to know that she was a pathetic idiot who couldn’t do a single damn thing right. Gen was crying, the tears she had worked to repress pushing over the edge and dragging the remaining specks of mascara down her cheeks.

“Liv.” Gen finally said, though her name on Gen’s lips sounded much more like a broken attempt at a plea instead of a beginning of a sentence. She took a deep breath, peeling herself away from the door as she forced herself to look into Liv’s eyes. “Liv I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t matter now but I am. You’re hurting right now and it is entirely my fault. I fucked up over and over and over again, you don’t have to tell me that.”

Gen carefully placed the necklace box on the desk in the middle of the room, bracing herself on the edge for a moment with her back to Liv. She needed to breathe, to formulate a thought before she turned around and spoke again.

“If you think I don’t know that I ruined everything, you’re fucking wrong.” Gen swore, the words ringing out into the quiet office in pain. “If you think that I didn’t think about you every damn night when I was gone and every day since then, you’re wrong. If you think that I don’t think about you every fucking day then you are so wrong and I don’t know what else to tell you. Because I do. You don’t leave my mind. I know I have no right to think about you, to want you after what I did, but I do.”

Gen finally turned around, her eyes red and her face soft. Any sign of the tough and confident Genevieve Johannes that everyone knew was gone. She was exposed, completely herself. Everything laid out bare in front of them.

“Liv, I’m a fucking hypocrite. I left you without a word and took some useless bitch on a trip that I had planned for us. I don’t have a right to be mad about you and Reid.” Gen said honestly, her voice weak and raspy from the crying. “He was there for you when I wasn’t, fixing the pain that I caused. But just because I don’t have any right to think so, that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

She paused, quickly wiping the tears away from the corners of her plush lips.

“Do you know how many times I almost up and left to come here, back to you? How many times I almost threw my career down the sink because I needed to fix things with you? I looked an opportunity of a lifetime in the face and was ready to give it all up for you. That trip made my career what it is today and I would’ve thrown it all away if that meant that you weren’t hurting, that I could make that shit up to you.” Gen rushed, words falling from her mouth before her brain had time to catch up. “So yeah, it hurt a bit when I found out that the same day I left that you and someone I considered a friend screwed before I had even gotten to Italy. What if I had turned around like I had planned? I would’ve come back to you fucking Reid! It disgusts me to think that he was on you, that anyone that you’ve been with since we broke up has been with you. I don’t have a right to think that, I know. But I don’t know what else to think! Liv, I don’t know what else to feel besides jealous and angry and sad. I fucking hate it!”

Gen stopped herself, her voice having picked up volume and strength as she spoke. Her nails had dug deep grooves into her palm from curling her long, elegant fingers into fists. The pain was a welcome distraction and a friendly reminder to stop herself before the conversation turned into little more than a yelling match.

“Liv, if you think you’re the only one in love and that I don’t want you or need you, you’re delusional. I left because I loved you and that hasn’t changed.” Gen finally admitted, looking down to the hardwood tiling under her bare feet, blinking some of the tears from her eyes. “I say shit I don’t mean and I do shit I wouldn’t otherwise because I’ve never cared about someone the way I care about you. That isn’t an excuse but that’s why I do what I do. I wish I didn’t, I wish that there was some way to make things up to you, but there isn’t. I burned that bridge a long time ago.”

Gen couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were burning, blood rushing through her ears to her aching head. For some reason, the tears were stopping. For some reason, her mind was clearing. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the honesty or the alcohol, but everything was coming into focus.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me Liv, because I wouldn’t if I were in your position.” Gen struggled out, looking back up to Liv. “But this? The yelling and the crying and the what-ifs and the being okay one minute and arguing the next… I can’t do it. Not with you, not like this. I may deserve the pain but you don’t. So feel free to walk out that door and never talk to me again. Do what’s going to help you feel better because I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

The last piece of Genevieve’s defences fell to the ground, shattering like unseen glass.

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?
Where are you?
Gen's place.
Did you mention anyone?
N/A.
Who are you talking to?
Hunter.
And, like, who are tagging, exactly?
Can I get a tl;dr?
Nickie...does Nickie things.
Hunter was touching her, and Nickie usually would’ve relished it, but there were two conditions that made her mind:

1. She was puking.

2. She was puking because of him.

She gently tried to tug away from him, but she didn’t have it in her to pull away from him. Being hunkered over a toilet, cheeks hot and feverish and hair threatening to fall into the bowl, did not put her in the best position to be moving around a lot, and she didn’t— she couldn’t just yell at him to keep his hands off of her, or to give her space, or to back away, because she’d let him in here in the first place.

She leaned back on the hand that she had pressed against the cool floor that was growing hotter beneath her palm, trying to keep her tears within her squeezed-shut eyes. In through your nose…in…out through your mouth…out

Her shoulders were still shaking, and she tucked her lips inward, working them for a moment before releasing them with a long exhale.

Out…

She squeezed her eyes again.

Don’t…cry…

“Hey, hey…,” he started, his voice soft.

She became aware once more of his hands on her shoulders, and she defeatedly let out a soft huff, drawing in a deep sniffle as her nose began to give the telltale sign of incoming tears.

Out…

“What’s wrong?”

She opened her eyes slowly, her glassy, shiny blue eyes already growing bloodshot at the stress of containing themselves, and she found him peering right back into her eyes.

His eyes were so full of concern and care that it hurt. It felt like a punch to her stomach— a blow to the side of her head— and the pressure behind her eyes and the wetness gathered at her lower lid welled even more. Her vision was blurry, and the blobs moved from their spots as she squinted her eyes in an attempt to keep her tears from spilling.

“Hey! Nickie, what’s wrong? You can talk to me. Please, talk to me!” Hunter’s voice was pleading.

She wanted to tell him what was wrong, just to get him to stop pleading. It hurt far more than seeing him happy— hearing him begging her to confess to something that she shouldn’t even be doing right then— and she wanted to just…to just close her eyes again and to tell him it, and to have that all be it. If she told him that she was lying and ran away, then she wouldn’t have to see his face crumble, and she wouldn’t have to deal— deal with this anymore.

She looked in the direction of his face, widening her eyes a bit to try to get a better view of him, trying to refocus her vision and suppress her tears.

This was…mortifying. She’d puked in front of him, and now, she was going to cry in front of him, wasn’t she?

"Listen, I'm going anywhere. I'm here for you, Nickie!"

She looked away from him, her eyes going to the vague, blurry lines of grout on the floor.

In…

She closed her eyes slowly.

Out…

Her shoulders’ shaking subsided slightly.

In…

She moved a bit further away from him, giving a gentle shake to get his hand off of his neck.

Out…

She smiled slightly, and she looked back up at Hunter, her eyes still glassy but no tears visible.

“Please, don’t,” she breathed.

She shook her head gently, lifting her hand from the bathroom floor. “You don’t…you don’t have to waste your time with me.”

She looked back down at the grout, letting out a soft laugh in a breath. “I mean…you don’t have to…thanks, but…don’t.” She shook her head slightly. “I mean…” Her eyes met his again. “Don’t waste your energy on me.”

She moved to stand. “I’m fine…just…” Her legs were wobbly as she pushed up off of the ground. “…a little sick…from the alcohol, I guess.” She straightened herself up, tugging down the back of her dress and looking down at Hunter.

She was lying again, but this lie was one that she was used to, so it was easier, and she only felt a slight tinge of nausea as she sniffled another “I’m fine”.
º º code by ditto º º​
 

Landon Sinclaire
"Without wonder, acting is business. With it, it becomes creation"


@thepromiseland has set their status to:
hang time, let's party

@thepromiseland has interacted with:
Seb

@thepromiseland has mentioned:
Mike, Lin, Evie, Chas

@thepromiseland has tagged:
LowkeyLovingLoki LowkeyLovingLoki


It was a rough start.

Like...rough.

Everyone would agree that his night had been a disaster so far.

There was the run in with the pocket douche, Mike, aka his ex-best friend and then Lin, the crack-addicted ferret.

He sighed.

Rough, right? And to top it all off...his sister...his own flesh and blood, was giving him shit and, like always, trying to tell him how to behave and how to act. He was an adult.

He downed the rest of his fourt....no fift...sixth? drink. Who keeps track at this point? But, what crawled up his sister’s ass? He was just having a little fun.

Did Lin deserve to be hung on a bannister like an ornament on a Christmas tree?

Yes.

Yes, he did. He was annoying and never shut up and he ran into Landon at the wrong. fucking. time. You’d think Evie would have his back. That she’d give him the benefit of the doubt, but he was just her “idiot brother” that she had to smooth things over for him. Whatever the fuck that meant. He didn’t need any help. He was doing fine on his own.

“I need a drink.” He motioned to his cup and left the group he was in. He wasn’t coming back. He didn’t even know who those other people were, but they handed him a drink and were doing shots. Plus, one of the girls was HOT. Maybe he would come back.

He stopped at the drink table and set his cup down.

“Landon, hey,”

He glanced over and saw Seb standing next to him. He smiled. He had forgotten they had plans to have a drink. “Seb.” he said as he stopped the drink-making and stood to face the other boy. He scanned around looking for any sign of Chas. Figured he didn't want to witness Seb talking to another guy...especially another guy who didn't have to shop in the kids section at Walmart.

“Your costume is awesome. Elf, right?”

Landon chuckled as he nodded. “Yeah, Evie and Nate decided I had to wear tights…” He motioned down at his legs. “...and Elf is one of my favorite movies, so…” He shrugged. “Thanks.” He glanced Seb up and down. FUCK. The boy was an angel in every aspect of the word. “You look pretty awesome tonight as well. Can I get you a drink?” He asked as he went back to pouring another drink for himself.

º º code by ditto º º
 

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