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

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
hell yes but also hell no but also what the fuck

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
you got that kelli shirt and them boxers and that's it

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the johannes residence

@lockandkian has mentioned:
n/a

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Oates

@lockandkian has tagged:
mogy

Clearly there was a logical explanation for the way Kian was feeling right now. If he wasn’t sure before what was happening, Kian was damn sure of what he had going on. The shitty circulation to his legs and the overheating when he had attempted to peel the clothes off of his skin had been nothing compared to what he was going through right now. Yes, there was a clear-cut and logical explanation as to why Kian felt like he was dying: myocardial infarction. Yes, Kian Phelan was having a heart attack at the age of sixteen.

The squeezing of the heart rattling around inside of his ribcage? Check.

Dizziness that fogged his mind and clouded his judgement? Check.

The tremble in his fingers that refused to stop no matter how many times he opened and closed a fist? Check.

Shortness of breath? Check.

The slightest tinge of nausea? Check.

See? All the symptoms line up! Kian was simply having a heart attack at the age of sixteen!

If it was a heart attack, Kian could simply chew a few Aspirin and drag his sorry ass to the hospital where he’d get hooked up to some machine. If it was a heart attack, Kian could excuse all the weird things he had said and done that night (“I was having a heart attack, bro, I totally don’t even remember hopping around stuck in my sister’s skirt”). If it was a heart attack, although relatively unlikely, Kian wouldn’t feel bad about someone coming to his pathetic rescue.

But if it wasn’t a heart attack? Well that would simply mean that the boy was so nervous that he felt like he was going to vomit, faint, and then consequently die all at the same time and oh boy, Kian Phelan did not do nervousness.

Pandora’s box had been foolishly opened and for a brief moment, Kian wondered if he could snap it back shut. Surely if he took the brunt of whatever shit show was headed his way from Oates that nothing bad would happen to anyone else that evening. Surely if he got his heart broken now, he could stop feeling guilty every time he saw the other boy’s face or heard his voice. Surely if everything got fucked up one last time, Oates could finally move on.

"Do you remember that time when we were racing on that school trip and fell into that whole mud puddle thing?"

Kian’s eyes snapped over to Oates, the anxiety clear on the clenched muscles in his jaw. Of course he remembered that trip, how could he forget? That trip had been the highlight of freshman year! Sure his hip was bruised for like a week and yeah his mom totally got on his ass for coming home covered in crusted mud and he probably got some sort of disease from literally inhaling a decent chunk of mud right into his lungs but that day, Kian could not have been happier.

Oh fuck, why was Oates coming closer? Scoot away, Kian, scoot away!

Lovely, he couldn’t move. How brilliant.

"It was when I first did this."

Kian’s eyes widened slightly as Oates leaned in and before Kian could even register what was happening, their lips were parting. Kian looked down to his raised hand that had been moving to pull Oates in closer, to keep that connection from breaking apart. Quickly dropping his hand to his lap, Kian’s jaw clenched again as he looked over Oates. Was he drunk? High? Did he hit his head? Was he the one having the heart attack?

“I-”

Kian stopped, trying to formulate a coherent thought as his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“You-”

What was the dude trying to do? Recite all the vowels in the English alphabet? Get a grip my man.

“Us-”

Kian shook his head. No, something wasn’t right. None of this was right. It had been years since the last time they kissed, years since the last time they touched, years since the last time they had even spoken. Kian had played various scenes over and over in his head those years trying to figure out in what strange universe he would ever cross paths with Oates again. He’d come up with a few strange scenarios, the oddest being their reunion after decades as they fled from the burning planet of Earth on some sort of weird rocketship to Mars where they were planning on rehabilitating the human race (PCP is one hell of a drug).

In none of those scenarios, in all of those hours of endless daydreaming that always left Kian with a stomach full of regret, did he ever imagine that he’d be sitting on the floor of a guest room in some random L.A. chick’s house half naked in his sister’s clothes kissing Oates who, although as cute as always, looked like a demon about to eat his soul. Even that seemed a touch too outlandish for the boy.

“Oates…” Kian trailed off, his face softening as his gaze drifted down to his lips and back up to his eyes. A soft smile began to form on the corners of Kian’s lips as years of memories flooded back to him, things he had fought to repress and forget, things that caused too much pain to think about. Their first hello, their last goodbye, every obstacle and uplift and war and victory in between.

Kian didn’t know what the hell he was doing, his mind had shut off moments before he rocked forwards and softly captured Oates’ face between his calloused hands, their lips moving in a familiar harmony that Kian had forgotten existed. It was new and old, bitter and sweet all at the same time.

Some nagging voice told him to stop as his hands pulled Oates closer, the two sinking further to the floor with Kian’s sudden movements. Kian didn’t want to stop. Fuck it, he wasn’t going to stop. There had been others since Oates left, people that felt shallow and cold in comparison to the bright light that he was currently intertwined with, people that left him longing for someone he couldn’t have anymore. Kian had been waiting for this for so damn long...

This was a mistake, Oates deserved better. Everything was wrong yet everything felt right. How very teen-romance movie cliche of him.

The fog that had been clouding his thoughts lifted in an instant and Kian pulled away with a gasp for air, his hands still Oates’ side underneath his shirt. Carefully pulling his hands away, Kian physically distanced himself as he shuffled back slightly. Reaching his thumb up to dab at a spot on his lower lip, Kian then scrambled to his feet.

“I’m sorry. Fuck man, I shouldn’t have done that. Not that I didn’t want to because I really did but not here, not like this. You deserve so much better than whatever the hell that was, you deserve the whole damn world after what I did to you. Fuck.” Kian ranted and rambled as he nervously began to pace, his fingers tapping anxious rhythms on the inside of his palm. Think dammit, think! Make it right. Kian stopped, looking to Oates once more. “Tomorrow. We should have a picnic tomorrow in the park like we used to back home. If you’re free that is. If this is going to happen…”

Kian trailed off again, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts.

“Look, maybe it’s the party talking or maybe it's one of those weird distance phenomena or some shit but whatever just caused that felt real.” Kian spoke, a strange sort of confidence in his voice. “So tomorrow at the park near the school. We’ll go on a picnic, don’t worry about bringing anything, just you. If this is going to happen, if we’re gonna happen, I’m gonna do it right this time. We both know you deserve a whole lot better than a cheap makeout on some random girl’s floor.”

Kian walked to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as he looked down at his bare legs. Ah yes, the skirt, he’d need that. Grabbing the red fabric off the floor, Kian slung the skirt over his shoulder and gathered himself as he looked over his shoulder at Oates.

“Sleep on it. If you want to come, I’ll be at the park tomorrow at noon.”

With his final words, Kian twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open, disappearing into the crowd of the party.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[sunshineysoul]

danielle howard

@beautyandthebeat has set their status to:
friendship !!!

@beautyandthebeat has set their outfit to:
hungOVER

@beautyandthebeat has set their location to:
our apartment

@beautyandthebeat has mentioned:
N/A

@beautyandthebeat has interacted with:
kelli and cole

@beautyandthebeat has tagged:
ohdittoh

@beautyandthebeat has written a tl;dr:
dani has the best big brother, that apparently her new best friend is scared of ?

dani's head slightly twitched to the side at kelli's apology.

she has nothing to be sorry for?

dani shrugged it off, closing the door behind kelli as she stepped inside.

dani couldn't remember the last time she had a girl friend come over to just hang out with her. she barely remembered the last time she had a genuine girl friend, and not just some girls who would talk about her behind her back every chance they got. the closest to friendships she got before california was hookups. dani would be convinced that if she put out, then maybe it'd form a friendship of some sort, because who would just sleep with someone and then ghost them?

the answer was apparently everyone dani hooked up with.

so while dani was in the middle of questioning her own sexuality, thinking about if boys were worth the trouble at all, there was no way she was even thinking of doing anything like that with kelli.

nope. no way. all dani wanted right now was a friend. she just wanted a break from constantly trying to get people to like her. kelli seemed like a perfectly sweet kid, dani somehow knew she wouldn't have to be constantly worrying about trying to impress her or worry about kelli gossiping about her behind her back.

dani led kelli further into her house, well more like cole's apartment that she was just freeloading off of.

"I wish I lived in my own place, or with Kian, that seems like it'd be cool"

dani smiled and nodded.

"oh yea, i couldn't imagine living at the dorms, but to be honest i had no idea there were dorms here until i heard someone mention you and ronnie living there!" they made their way into the kitchen, dani getting ready to turn to the left and head to her room when she heard kelli's quiet remark. she turned around to see kelli had stopped, and even taken a few steps back.

is she okay?

she heard her question about her brother, dani's eyes glancing over to cole, still washing the dishes from the pancakes he made.

"yeah," she walked back over to kelli, keeping her voice low. she didn't know why she was matching kelli's volume, but she got the insane feeling of kelli not being comfortable, and dani didn't want to do anything to spook her. "yea that's cole, he's my big music brother. i asked him not to bug us, but if you ever met him, he's a really nice guy." dani did her best to speak in a comforting tone, it reminded her of how she spoke to the baby calves back home, especially the flighty ones who got spooked at the ranch hands bringing the bottles. dani was always the only person who could calm down any of the baby animals.

dani studied kelli's posture and attitude. it looked like she was trying to hide herself in plain sight, her voice had lowered and she even took some steps back.

is she scared of cole?

she might feel more comfortable once we get in my room

"cole," her voice raised so he could hear here over the dishes. her hand reached for kelli's as cole looked over his shoulder. "kelli and i will be in my room, don't bug us. bye!" her sentence ended in a chirpy tone as she started to walk toward her room.

she loved cole, and she would never believe anyone if they told her that cole did something wrong to make them feel uncomfortable. she knew cole wasn't that kind of guy, but that didn't mean she was going to force kelli to be around him if he made her uncomfortable.

once they made it to her room, she closed the door behind them. she turned around, looking at kelli with a puzzling look, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"are you okay?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[sunshineysoul]

cole howard

@howdy.coleboy has set their status to:
write write write

@howdy.coleboy has set their outfit to:
vibin

@howdy.coleboy has set their location to:
his room

@howdy.coleboy has mentioned:
N/A

@howdy.coleboy has interacted with:
dani and kelli

@howdy.coleboyhas tagged:
ohdittoh

@howdy.coleboy has written a tl;dr:
i'm in the zone, don't bug me

cole tended to be the one to do the dishes between him and dani. not that dani was lazy, she kinda was, but cole suffered a strange phenomenon of actually liking cleaning the house. doing the dishes, sweeping, moping, vacuuming, doing laundry, cole always found it relaxing. it gave him something to do when he was bored, and it was productive, and most days, he could pop his headphones on or turn up his speaker and just absolutely vibe.

when he heard the door open and close, he had to fight the instinct to turn around and greet the guest. dani warned him to leave them alone, so he decided to stay at the sink, washing the dishes. he knew that once he heard her bedroom door close, he was in the clear. but when he didn't hear the door close, he took a lot more for him to not turn around and see where they were.

"cole," he heard his sister call out after a few moments of silence. he turned his head to the side, still washing the dishes, but lending his ear to hear what she was going to say. "kelli and i will be in my room, don't bug us, bye!" a chuckle came out of cole's throat as she finished her second warning, followed by the sound of her door finally closing.

"finally... i was rinsing the same plate for like, five minutes." he mumbled to himself as he finished drying off said plate and putting it back in the cabinet.

he stretched, yawned, stood in the kitchen for a minute. he didn't know why, his body felt unmotivated to move or walk or do anything. but he needed a moment alone, with his thoughts, to just be.

the past few months had been complete and utter hell for him. without a doubt, the worst months of his life, even worse than the hospital incident with dani. because with dani, it lasted for no more than two weeks. but the situation with his mother? it had been lasting months.

and his bad mood wasn't due to someone being an ass to him and he refused to be the bigger person and ignore them. cole did that all the time. no. this was his mother who was over a thousand miles away and dying. on top of that, now he had his little sister to look after, who was revealing herself to have grown into a wild child ever since he left.

not a day went by where he regretted coming to hollywood arts.

cole shook his head.

no.

today was going to be a good day.

he was going to make today a good day.

he wasn't going to mope around about becoming a teenage father to his sister, he wasn't going to sit in his room and cry about how he was stuck at school while his mom was dying, and he wasn't going to open his secret alcohol stash and drink himself into a stupor.

nope. that cole wasn't around. not today. today, cole was going to work on his winter arts festival song. this was his senior year, and he understood how important this year was. the other years were important too, of course, but agents and record labels came looking for seniors at these winter arts fests, talent that was about to graduate high school and be ready for the real world. cole had to prove he was good enough for someone to sign him.

he had to get signed.

he had to make an album

it had to make him an insane amount of money

because he had to give back to his family, however he could.

after grabbing another pancake, he made his way back to his room to stat working on his song. he pulled out his most recent journal to look at his ideas.

cole had quite a few journals on his shelf. not diaries or anything, no he only wrote down ideas for songs in his journals. chord progressions, general ideas for songs, specific ideas for lyrics, even bunches of words that rhymed, in case he needed them.

however, he had one journal, it was where he considered his best ideas would go. he only ever wrote songs for arts festival from this journal. he flipped it to his most recent page, looking at the words thrown on the page.

times are different

i'm not who i was in the past

contrast; happy sound, sad lyrics

happiness abuser ?

happiness abuser? when did he write that down?

ooooohhhh, right, when he first got back from texas. he was hit with the wave of realizing how different everything was, how people so often took the good times, the happiness they experienced on an every day basis, for granted.

riiiight, happiness abuser.

cole read enough of his notes to get to work. he had a vision of what kind of song he wanted to make, so he sat at his computer, surrounded by his equipment, pulled on his headphones, and got to work

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

bitch, sit down
be humble

M O O D : getting around

O U T F I T : let loose

L O C A T I O N : the apartment

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : jo

T A G S : jasmyn

​

Saint, as he settled his shirt’s wrinkles, heard a soft groan from behind himself. “Fuck,” he heard his return guest mutter, her word much louder in the silence than it would have been otherwise.

He sighed softly through his nose, standing slowly.

The silence was pleasant while it lasted.

It was Jo, though, so it was unsurprising that she couldn’t keep her mouth shut for long enough to let the quiet remain. Typically, it was endearing, to an extent, and he supposed that he shouldn’t be quick to jump to the assumption that she was going to start yelling at him or anything.

“Good morning…,” Saint greeted causally, his low-pitched, stoic voice heavy with sleep. He ambled to his chest of drawers, motions casual and loose despite the company of his Saint-clothed ex. He moved aside one of the boxes of clay that he had. “How was your sleep…?” he asked, trying to make pleasant conversation.

There was shuffling from the bed. “Good morning? I think. I don't really know what time it is. Have you seen my phone?"

Saint opened his bottom drawer, slowly shifting several pairs of multi-colored socks apart before selecting and removing a pair of white socks. He unfolded the socks, stooping to tug them on. He rolled one up and slid it onto his left foot before doing the same with his right. His motions were slow and drawn out, the opposite of hurried, as if the presence of the girl in the room did not phase him in the slightest.

Whether it truly did or not, Saint implored you not to investigate too much. These events were relayed by him; it wasn’t his obligation to tell all of the truth all of the time, if that wasn’t already obvious enough.

”So, uh, what happened last night?” asked the girl on his bed, her voice slightly panicked. “I mean, did we...? We didn't...hook up? Right?"

He stood from the floor, drawing in a long breath, and he slowly moved over to his nightstand, pulling his phone from the charger and checking the screen.

"Shit,” the girl continued. “I just, not that it would be...just...did we?"

The smiling faces of he and his mother, standing in front of a large, fiberglass bee that he’d sculpted her for her thirty-sixth birthday, met his eyes, and he breathed out a long, quiet sigh, checking the time and scanning the notifications he had quickly before slipping it into his pocket.

And then, with a soft sigh, his eyes found Josie’s phone, on his spare charger, and he pulled it off, finally turning to face her.

Seeing her in the shirt that he’d tossed her last night, the light streaming through his sheer, white curtains and casting upon the loose-hanging fabric and her round, bewildered, flustered face, her black hair tossed from sleep, a few strands in her face, as if she were a priceless painting, Saint couldn’t help but be reminded of…

Nevermind.

Wordless, he walked to his closet and pulling out a pair of black pants, a pair that he’d washed a long time ago.

Her brown eyes met his, the panic in them obvious. “I should've had you take me home. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have intruded or whatever. I just...shit—“

“Calm down,” he interrupted in his calm, steady, tired, stoic voice, walking over to her and handing her phone and gently tossing the pants that he’d never returned to her on the bed.

It wasn’t because he cared any which way about her; he would do such a thing to anyone else.

Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes with the backs of his palms, and he stood straight again, starting toward his door and beginning to walk away, expecting her to follow.

He walked through the apartment, past Nate’s and Gus’ rooms and to the bathroom, where he pit-stopped, stepping into it without an explanation to open up the small, mirrored cabinet above the sink, the door shielding his face and actions until the tall boy shut it, fist clenched. Still not offering any words to go by, he went to the kitchen, stopping by a cabinet to draw out a toaster and plug it in and pop in two pieces of toast.

He opened up a cabinet above the counter, pulling out a tall glass from it and going to the refrigerator to fill it with ice and water. Once he’d done that, as slowly as usual, he sat it down on the table, then went to the toaster with a plate just as the toast popped out above it.

Placing the two pieces of toast on the plate, he grabbed a napkin from a drawer and a jar of jelly from the fridge before setting the plate down on the table, the napkin beside it, and the glass in front of it.

He now went up to Josie, and he opened his palm for her to see what was in it: two, white, circular pills.

“Aspirin and breakfast,” he explained in his uninterested voice as he stared down at her, “are a start to curing hangovers.”

saint taylor

º º code by ditto º º

 

[sunshineysoul]

ryder alistar

@rydeonme has set their status to:
i'm the best friend

@rydeonme has set their outfit to:


@rydeonme has set their location to:
kitchen

@rydeonme has mentioned:
felix

@rydeonme has interacted with:
mike

@rydeonme has tagged:
ohdittoh

@rydeonme has written a tl;dr:
i'm a musician AND a chef, fight me

"Just don't get eggshells in my omelette, and we'll be good."

ryder's face scrunched up as he tossed mike the extra shirt he had draped over his shoulder.

"dude if you're gonna speak to me like i'm a fucking servant then i'll put glass in your damn omelette." ryder scoffed as he bent down to pick up mike's sad excuse of a halloween costume.

there was something weird about november 1st. all of october led up to the 31st, halloween. people would dress up, get insane amounts of candy, go to wild parties, everyone did whatever the hell they wanted because they were pretending to be something else.

and then the next day it just, was over. it was silly to dress up, most of the candy got thrown out, and everyone was hungover.

and if they were anything like mike, they were regretting their drunk decisions pretty heavily.

"i didn't think you needed pants, but i've probably got a pair of sweats or something in my room. you can head in there and deal with," he paused to look at his friend. "that." he motioned to the entirety of mike.

his hair was a mess, curls were pressed against his head where he lay in the tub, some were even falling flat. the clothes he had just thrown off himself were incredibly wrinkled, and the entire bathroom reeked of booze.

"i'm heading down to make breakfast, alright? feel free to use that tub for more than getting drunk and passing out. you know most people use it to clean themselves? soap will do wonders for your stench, bro." ryder shot him a cocky grin before shutting the bathroom door behind him and making his way back downstairs to the kitchen.

ryder hadn't seen felix since he woke up, never really saw him the night before either. which was weird, because he spent most of the night sitting in their massive living room, watching their massive tv, hanging out on their massive couch, sipping honey lemon tea from a normal sized mug.

but ryder didn't care much. he was much more worried about mike.

what, you couldn't tell?

he flicked the tv on, putting on whatever channel was playing whatever movie as some background noise while he got mike's omelette ready. he opened the fridge, grabbed about six eggs, with two eggs to an omelette, he could leave one for felix for whenever he decided to come home. he set the eggs on his counter, very skillfully so they didn't roll off and crack on the floor, as he went back into his fridge for a block of cheese to start shredding.

he decided on cheddar. the sharp flavor mixed with the sprinkling of garlic salt he put in all his eggs would go great with the more subtle flavors of the egg and spinach and whatever the hell else he decided to put in the omelettes.

connecting his phone to his bluetooth speaker, he set up his music to start playing as he cooked. and by his music, i mean his music, nothing put ryder in a better mode than jamming out to the songs he wrote and sang himself. it was so easy for him to get back in the mindset he was in when he was recording and performing them, and those mindsets were always positive.

so there he stood, in the kitchen, whisking eggs and shredding cheese and prepping omelettes, boppin around and singing to his own songs.

he was convinced it was going to piss off mike even more

so he turned the volume up even louder.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Corey Preston
18 || Senior || Literature

@coreyinthehouse has set their status to:
Hide the pain, Corey

@coreyinthehouse has set their outfit to:
Clearly not enough

@coreyinthehouse has set their location to:
Bedroom → Kitchen

@coreyinthehouse has mentioned:
Gus, Adri, Maddie

@coreyinthehouse has interacted with:
Adri and Maddie

@coreyinthehousehas tagged:
jasmyn Winona sunshineysoul

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As Corey and Maddie sat on the surprisingly-warm sand, the backdrop of the blackened sky with the moon shining its silverish-golden light on the cerulean ocean, the full moon’s reflection shown on the surface of the ocean, and the waves crashing against the shore created a relaxing, asmr-like atmosphere that was majestic in every sense of the word. it was just the thing they needed after the hell of a night they had, or, to be more accurate, after her encounter with Javi, it was what Maddie needed.

Corey let his eyes remain on the ocean, smiling every time he heard the rushing sound of the water push against its previous position on the beach. The tide wasn’t expected to go high at any time tonight. He checked because the beach was always something Corey knew he could go back to whenever things became too tense and stressful in his life. It was the place he could get away — that they could get away from all of their problems. For Maddie, it was Javi and the horrible, terribly-untruthful, unforgivably-hurtful words that oozed from his mouth like they were poison.

As much as he probably could linger on that, he didn’t want to. Especially not with Maddie by his side. His best friend, the one person who knew him most, was by his side. And as she spoke, gushing to him about how he was the best, best friend in the world. In that moment, when her voice filled the immediate area around him, his brown eyes, which were full of such content for the sight in front of him, left to to gaze upon a sight that was the only thing better than the ocean at night.

Maddie.. He smiled slightly wider than he did. No teeth showed, but the genuine joy on his face was clear. And it was because of her. Because of Maddie and what she meant to him.

As their arms hooked under the blanket that kept them warm from the chilly winds of the autumn night, even though his eyes returned to the real life nature sounds and the painting-worthy scene of it, the boy’s mind could not be as still as the water. He couldn’t shake off anything but Maddie running around in it, consuming any thought from how much he wanted to have a corndog from his favorite stand on the Santa Monica Pier. Or how, despite it probably being freezing cold, Corey could go for a swim in the ocean.

No, she was permanently in his head.

And she’s always been there. Probably since they met.

Since junior year. On the first day of school, Corey wasn’t the best person he knew he could be, but when he met Maddie, that all changed. He slowly came out of the shell he created after a traumatic event changed his entire personality, after it made him withdraw from practically everyone he had come to know at the time. It was Madelaine Harlow that brought him back.

“Maddie..” His voice came out raspy because he had spent about five minutes without uttering a word.

And as she looked at him, her dazzling eyes, which had some of the light from the moon, couldn’t have looked closer to a pair of radiant gemstones from a DIsney fairy tale even if there was some magical fairy godmother granting her wish right at this very moment.

She didn’t speak, but Corey knew he had her full attention. It was in her microexpressions that he knew better than he knew himself sometimes. The way she quarter smiled when he said her name, when he knew that, even if it was for a few short moments, what he said next wouldn’t go unheard.

And this stressed Corey out to the point that he took her hands. They were a weird mixture of warm and freezing. The top of her hands were warm due to having prolonged contact from the blanket, but her palms and underside of her fingers were almost as cold as ice, or at least as cold as one’s hands could get to that level of freezing.

“Maddie, I—” He stopped himself because his voice was unsteady. So he shook his head, ridding himself of all the nerves. Feeling a bit more confident than before, Corey went for attempt number two, “Maddie, I’m sorry for what Javi said to you. And how he treated you. And, for how hurt you are when you go out with these guys. I just, I mean, you deserve way better than all of them.”

As he spoke, he couldn’t tell what her reaction to it was. Corey couldn’t gauge if she was catching onto what he was trying to say. She just smiled at him like she always did and Corey went for it.

“Maddie I..” He shook his head again, leaning closer. They were so close that he caught the scent of her icy-hot breath, the warmth of her body temperature, and he smiled, whispering “Maddie, I love..”

*RING RING RING*
​

Corey jolted up, the blanket exploding off of his half-naked body. He grunted quite loudly as the repeated loop of his alarm went off.

He had too much crust on the corners of his eyes to see anything properly, so he wiped them away with his hand that was still weighed down from him being half asleep still. As he eventually regained the ability to see, he blinked at his phone. His clock said it was slightly half-past eight, which wasn’t unusual for him to wake up around this time. Even though it was the weekend and the party was over, Corey was still on school time. His body clock refused to keep him asleep past the point in time that he needed to be awake for school.

But since it was the weekend, he dragged himself out of bed one-hundred-ish minutes later than he would if he actually did have school.

“What a dream…” Corey muttered, finally shutting his alarm off after almost a minute of it going off.

Corey groaned a few more times as he rose up to his feet. His legs and shoulders and neck all cracked as he stretched them, the joints freeing the tension in them and he moaned out a relieved sound as if his joints and neck were thanking him.

After he took a few steps and part of his leg was in a pair of sweats, Corey kept thinking about that dream and how...real it felt. It was so vivid that he could still remember the first taste of the salty ocean air and how cool and relaxing it was. He recalled the warmth of the blanket and the warmth he felt inside being so close to Maddie.

“Maddie..” He muttered again. As he stood there, still with one leg in the pair of black sweats he held by the band in both of his hands, the seconds that went by were in silence brought on by deep thought. The silence that was broken as a sharp “oh!” left his lips, voice cracking as Corey remembered. “That’s right..”

It was starting to slowly come back to him. And that momentary smile he had on his face slowly waned until morning blues took over and Corey’s usually positive demeanor was more melancholy-like as he remembered that Maddie left to go pick up Gus. He remembered she gave him the keys and told him to meet them at their place. And it was assumed that Gus would stay at their place overnight.

And then it really came back to him. And Corey remembered how much he thought it wasn’t a good idea, but Maddie was adamant about it. If there was one thing he could say about her, it was that when she promised to be there for someone, no matter how much Corey didn’t like the person or felt about them (on the inside at least), she was loyal to her friends until the very end.

So, of course, he didn’t fight her any further. Corey didn’t know the full story, but his pity party of confusion and frustration was interrupted by first the sound of sizzling bacon cooking and the smell that came immediately after.

“There can only be one person making that.”

Suddenly, Corey’s smile widened as soon as he nearly tripped when he slipped his other leg into his sweats. Momentarily, he rushed back to grab his phone, u-turning his way down the hall. His feet made loud thuds on the wooden floors. Corey usually liked to wear socks when he was home, but he was so hungry that it slipped his mind and he didn’t even bother to wear a shirt. Besides, he was at home. He never wore any shirts when he was home, especially since it was just him and Maddie (and Gus, but he’s asleep, so he technically doesn’t count).

“Oh, that smells so good!” Corey’s voice oozed with a fondness that only someone who truly loved food could have. Plus, it was bacon. Everyone loved bacon. “I can’t wait to dig in—”

Corey’s voice hit a vocal brick wall when he turned and saw Adriene sitting opposite of the kitchen. He saw her phone in hand, but that detail seemed very insignificant compared to the larger issue he was facing right now.

As he stood no more than three feet away from her, it donned on him that this had been the closest Corey had been to her in two years. It was two years ago that they broke up. Not because he did something bad like cheated on her or that cheating had anything to do with it. The reason was simply she changed into someone he didn’t recognize and they distanced because of it. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt him. It did and he still hadn’t addressed it.

Or rather, he refused to think about her, but he knew their paths would cross eventually. There was no doubt in his mind that it would happen, especially since she was friends with his best friend. Still, he didn’t think she’d be at their place when he was just waking up.

Taking in a deep breath, Corey feigned a smile that he had to force himself to put on as he briefly glanced at Adriene. His heart thumped hard in his chest, lungs working overtime as he tried to ease his mind, but his stomach and taste buds were also enticed by the smell of the bacon.

He took a seat at the counter, looking at Adri once more with a pensive smile and knew he had to focus on Maddie or else he might pop. “It all smells so good, Maddie.” He tried to sound like his usual positive, excited self, but right now, Corey was trying to focus on not fainting from the tension to his right, the tension behind him snoring on the couch, and the tension in his stomach.

It really isn’t my day.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

I am, I am trying
The best that I can

M O O D : for meeeeeee???

O U T F I T : t-shirt & sweatpants

L O C A T I O N : the apartment

M E N T I O N S : jo & charlie

I N T E R A C T I O N S : ash

T A G S : Winona

​

Wide, dopey smile spread across his face, Trevor stepped aside to let his girlfriend inside his empty apartment, repeating his new mantra in his head—

Wait…what was his new mantra? He was fairly certain that it was supposed to be I can do it, but his thoughts sounded a lot more like the following.

Ahem:

I CAN’T DO THIS, I CAN’T DO THIS, I CAN’T DO THIS, I CAN’T DO THIS.

Same difference, right…? Bah, why was he asking? They were close enough. Good enough.

He was a feckin' prick, so why did it matter why he could do it or if he couldn’t? He’d have to do it, anyway.

“Oh, yer not late, darlin’,” he said, shutting the door with a soft chuckle. “I was jus’ sittin'. You gettin’ here was jus’ on time, an’ it woulda been on time had ya come at ten post meridiem.” Yes, he knew what pm meant; no, that was not a flex…in the slightest. He was just that smart, and it was a regular part of his vernacular.

There was a quick pause in which he turned to her, stepping towards the living room, but he stopped short of walking away when his eye caught her quickly holding out a book to him.

He flinched involuntarily.

Listen, he couldn’t help that he was used to Charlie and Jo’s roughhousing and expected her to wack him on the head.

Hell, she was probably still mad at him, anyway. Fuck roughhousing— he was half expecting her to beat him over the head with it, the way that they did in cartoons and old movies when they were mad with one another, where they’d hit each other across the head or face while nonsensical, out-of-place foley played to the beats of the hits.

Instead, she was just…presenting it to him, a smile on her face that made the uneasy feeling in his stomach subside for a moment.

“Happy birthday,” she said.

His grin broadened, and he took the book from her, studying it with surprised expression on his face. “A…gift?” He looked up at her with a cocked eyebrow, and then chuckled slightly.

"I'm sorry it's not, like, wrapped but I didn't know where the wrapping paper was— and, like, I considered stopping at the store, but I didn't want to make you wait longer.”

He brought his hand to run along the spine, feeling the small indentations of the letters imprinted into the leather with the pad of the fingertip of his left hand’s forefinger. On the front was written the name William Wordsworth.

“Anyway, it's like a…I don't know, poem book or something that Gen said I could give you. Her dad didn't, umm...want it anymore, and I didn't like... really know what else to get you."

His eyes were hyper focused on the book, his eyes growing wider with awe and his relaxed heart pattering a bit faster and faster with excitement the longer that he stared at it and ran his hand along the mildly dusty front.

No…way.

The heavy, thick, leather-bound book was gorgeous. Turning it to hold the spine in his palm with the pages facing outward, he studied the paper as he held the book closed. They were yellowed slightly, and, as he ran his hand along the side, he could feel that the edges were textured to prevent paper-cutting. (That was a genius invention, by the way. Whoever did it deserved a fecking Nobel Peace Prize for sparing the boy from having to have his hands constantly coated in bandages.) Slowly, as if he was revealing the Holy Grail, Trevor took the front cover in his right hand and opened it.

The Complete Works of William Wordsworth. The way that the dark black text contrasted with the yellowed background…

Could he really…touch it?

He reached out slowly, as if he were touching a museum antique, and then he slowly ran his hand along the textured cover page.

The bumps, the coarse feeling beneath his fingers…it was…fecking immaculate.

Trevor was such a fecking book nerd, but damn. What a book.

He flipped open to the table of contents, his eyes full of wonder.

Eleven pages of contents. It had eleven full pages of contents.

This was…gorgeous. He—

"Do you like... like it?”

The words kind of pulled him from his fantasy, and he looked up to meet Ash’s eyes.

“Sorry, if you don't, I can totally get you something else."

“Oh, no, it’s— it’s amazing,” he said, laughing slightly, his last two words gasped and awe-filled.

The key to Trevor’s heart? A gift, in general.

The key to Trevor’s soul? A book, especially an antique one, and especially a poetry book.

“Thank you,” he breathed, and then he repeated a little bit louder, with a big grin, “Thank ya!” He went in for a quick kiss, and then chuckled happily, looking down at the book.

Oh, it was feckin’ beautiful. It was…God in a book.

But not the Bible.

Trevor was better at writing words than thinking them.

He looked up at Ash. “Thank ya,” he gave again, opening his arm up for a hug, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank ya so much, darlin’.” Just one more time for good measure, because it was really feckin’ magnificent. “I actually have jus’ tha place ta put it, too.”

Yep, that was right, it was the most coveted place, where only the best books went—

The Middle Shelf of the Bookshelf Squeezed Between the Side of His Bed and the Wall™. All’a tha books talked about it, he’d have ya know, and if ya haven’t heard ‘em talkin’ ‘bout it, then ya jus’ didn’t listen close enough.

(He was a dork and he was high, so he thought that that was funny, so laugh. Be supportive.)

“Hey, have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the couch as he tucked the feckin’ ravishing book to his chest and trailed off to his room to place it in just the spot that he knew he had free for it. “Make yerself home,” he yelled as he flicked on his light, throwing himself stomach-down on his bed and stretching his arm out to pull his brass lion-head bookend from the left side of the bookshelf and gently place the heavy book beside the others before replacing the bookend and sitting up again. He stood from his bed, nearly prancing up to the front in the best second-date clothes that anyone could ask for— the same Axe-coated sweats and t-shirt as he’d been wearing since he’d woken up from his nap, now slightly askew from his laying on the bed.

“An’ he makes his triumphant return, ready ta…erm…make this tha bes' damn mildly-hungover secon’ date t’at a guy who fucked up all of his interpersonal relationships in one night can,” Trevor said bluntly, not even catching his words as they left his mouth— or after, “ta his gorgeous girlfriend, sittin’ pretty an’…” He trailed off, unable to think of any more descriptors, and he waved his hand dismissively as he came into the living room. “Beh, monologues are overrated,” he dismissed, his words much lighter thanks to the fact that he was stoned to all hell. “If I keep t’at goin’, would I eventually resort ta tha ta be or not ta be…? T’at’s the question.”

He snickered at his own joke, settling himself on the loveseat. His poetry book remained on the couch; he’d forgotten about it, and he didn’t look at it.

“So…w’at’s tha craic, darlin’?” he asked. “How’s yer weeken…”

Weekend been?

Feckin’ dumb question.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head to dismiss it.

Dance around it as long as possible.

That was his instinct.

His I can do it mantra— and his I can’t do it mantra— were far from his mind.

He was too happy to apologize now. There was no point in it.

If he could ignore his problems, it was like they weren’t even there.

“…mornin’?” he finished, grinning at her.

Inwardly, he high-fives himself.

Great cover-up, Mr. Callaghan.

TREVOR CALLAGHAN

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@damien.slayter has set their status to:
amazing, I'm amazing

@damien.slayter has interacted with:
Felix, Javi

@damien.slayter has mentioned:
N/A

@damien.slayter has tagged:
ohdittoh hery ​

Damien glanced over at his... friend? Well, Felix was about as much of a friend as one Damien Slater was capable of making. Bonded by the whole parents in politics nonsense, Felix and Slater hadn't really been uhh... "friends" until he'd started dealing and Damien had started using.

Yeah, Slater tended to keep his "friends" reserved to those that he purchased shit from or partied with. Example A: Kian, and Example B: the dude standing next to him.

Slater looked over at him with a quizzical expression on his face as Felix started talking about the good weather and... ants blowing away? God, kids, was he right? (Ignore the fact that they were the same age and in the same grade, alright? Slater was clearly way more mature than his obviously younger companion).

"Oh Felix, buddy," he said and tossed an arm around Felix's shoulders. Now, Felix stood a couple inches taller than Damien, so he had to pull Felix down to his level. Now, obviously, this wasn't something that really occurred to Slater. In Slater's mind, he was easily like... six foot two or something. Something massive, even though he was a measely five foot eight.

"Ants are windproof, okay?" Damien started explaining. "See, they have special stickers that stick them to the grass and the ground so they can't blow away. Which is good because imagine getting smacked in the face with a flying ant, ya know?"

Slater released Felix from his grasp, giving his buddy a pat on the back. "Anyway," he continued, "I don't know much 'bout him. Kind of met him by chance, you know? Pretty sure he's new to the area and shit, but uhh..." Damien shrugged. "And the shit he's got is okay. He's kind of pathetic, though, so I like to think I'm doing something good by giving him extra money, you know? It's like charity or something. Can't you get tax breaks for giving to charity? Think I could get a tax break for my parents if I told them I was spending cash on a charity case of a drug dealer?"

These thoughts were still bouncing around in Damien's thick as fuck skull when he saw Javier chilling near a tree in a very inconspicuous wink wink type of way. Nope, nothing weird about three teenagers hanging out at the park next to a tree at all. Nope.

Slater smacked Felix in the chest and pointed towards Javi. "There's my guy. Come on, bro," he said and sped up until they neared the guy and Damien's lopsided grin widened.

"Javier, my guy," he greeted. "Where's my shit?" Yeah, Damien wasn't much one to beat around the bush -- he wanted to see the drugs now.

And then he seemed to remember that he wasn't alone.

"Oh, this is Felix. Felix, Javi."

There. Now he'd done his good job of introducing them.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE
ROLL AROUND THIS ROUNDABOUT, OH YEAH

M O O D : zexier and hypier

O U T F I T : spot the drip lmao

L O C A T I O N : his condo

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : zephyyyyy

T A G S : Winona

​

Lin’d probably said it a couple times before, but he’d say it again, luhmao: Zephy was hella funny, with just, like, his whole disbelief thing. It was like everything Lin did or said amazed him— it was fucking hilarious.

Lin did this magic show for one of his mom’s coworker’s daughters once, the year before he came to Hollywood Arts, back in that half of a year that he lived in Waterloo. Well, “magic show”, luhmao— actually, Lin and her went to a park where they had one of those benches that folded into tables. There were instructions on the side of the table, but the kid was so young that she couldn’t read yet, the little dumbass.

Sure, she was, like, three, but, eh, kids were dumbasses, and he loved them, luhmao.

He was bored, the kid was bored, and so Lin had her sit down in front of the bench and close her eyes.

“Now, when I count to three, this bench will be…ooh, a table,” he said, doing an exaggerated expression of awe as he wiggled his fingers on the last words.

The kid gawked at him.

“One…two…three…” He clicked the bench’s top back, and it unfolded into a table. “Ooh!” he gasped, as if he’d done something magical, wiggling his fingers at the table.

And then the kid opened her eyes, and then they went as wide as saucers, and she called him the magic man for the rest of the time that he lived there, before they moved again.

Anyway, Zeph was like that little girl— Zephy and Zoey were a lot alike, luhmao. Maybe that was part of why Lin found himself so endeared to Zeph— he was…kinda kiddish, and it was fun, luhmao.

Also, he seemed to go along with pretty much anything, and who didn’t like yes-men, luhmao?

Also, he was a great fucking wingman. Fucking sick.

He was cool, luhmao.

Like, third coolest.

First came Lin, then came Charlie, and then came Zeph.

Or maybe it was Lin, Charlie, Ash, and Zeph.

Zeph was up there, anyway, luhmao.

Lin laughed at Zeph’s comment about swords, shifting in his beanbag. “Luhmao, I meannn, if we want actual swords, there’s a pawn shop, like, fifteen minute away on feet, luhmaooo. Oh, shit, by the way— hope you’re ready to walk a lot.” He kinda wished that his condo was closer to the stores and stuff, but he guessed that the people who built it didn’t want their bougie building getting all uglied by the buildings around it.

And then Zeph suggested lightsabers, and Lin’s eyes lit up, his brows raising and his grin spreading excitedly. “Oh, dude, that’s fuckin’ sick— lightsabers, hell yeah. Take note of that. Scribble it down in your little book or something, luhmao.”

Zeph gave little notebook vibes, luhmao.

“I have a green one somewhere in my room, luhmao.”

Eh, if it was in there, it probably wasn’t gonna come out. Lin didn’t go in his room often— he usually just konked out in the recliner or on his beanbag or something. His room had a path to his closet, but, like, across the floor was pretty much everything else ‘cuz he didn’t like to clean up, luhmao. He lowkey wanted to go digging some day, just to see if he could find more cool stuff like that three-year-old Snickers that he’d found beneath his bed, but, eh, that’d be a lotta effort, and he didn’t wanna.

His dog licked at his hand, and he looked down at her, cooing to her with knit brows. “Sorry, Beebeeeee,” he said in a high-pitched voice, “you’ve gotta go to your babysitter.” He looked up and over at Zeph. “Oh, yeah, we gotta stop to drop by Serena’s room,” he said casually, as if Zeph knew who she was. “I was gaming earlier, but I, like, texted her when I went to pop myself some bags of popcorn.”

Yeah, he’d eaten, like…four bags or something throughout the day. It was decent. Like…solid 7/10 popcorn.

“She said I could just swing by and drop Beeshee off on my way out,” he continued, rubbing his dog’s head. Her tail thumped against his stomach, and he grinned broader, laughing slightly. “She lives on the third floor and all, but it’ll be a quick warm-up for our walk, ‘cuz, like, it’s a pretty good walk.”

Lin looked at his apple, staring at his singular bite out of it—

And then, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch—

Fives bites later, Lin was down to the core.

He stood up, walking in his quick, swagger-y way over to the edge of the kitchen and then doing a little hop to do a basketball shot of the core off of the makeshift backboard of his island.

Bong, clunk. Straight in.

“Hell yeah!” Lin called, pumping his fist and then spinning on his heel to look at Zeph, resuming his casual posture and tone of voice. “You want some popcorn or something?” he asked. “I’ve got, like, three bags left, luhmao.” He gasped as he remembered something else. “Oh, aaaand...”

Without another word, Lin took off up his stairs, and his dog, bewildered for a second, quickly followed, yapping.

And then, half a minute later, Lin came down, wearing six or seven feather boas of various colors around his neck.

He came running down the stairs, losing feathers as he ran, his dog chasing the falling feathers thinking that they were birds or food.

He ran into the living room, and then he came to a stop with a disco pose in front of Zeph, with one finger pointing to the air, one hand on his hip, his legs set shoulder-width apart, and his head tilted at the floor.

And then he looked up at Zeph with a big grin on his face. “Ta-duh-dah,” he said, laughing.

He released his posture, taking a couple of the large boas from his neck— one dark green one and neon pink one— and he wrapped them both around Zeph’s neck. “Now, we’re even sexier sexier sexies, luhmaooo.” He gave Zeph his toothy grin. “It’s the best field trip gear ever, eh?” He wiggled his butt, and then he gasped slightly with another idea. “Hold up...”

From his pocket, Lin whipped out his phone, and, in a few quick motions, he held his phone up for a picture, tossing up a peace sign and doing a kissy face before clicking the picture. He quickly lowered his arm, flicking to the picture, and then he laughed loudly.

“Luhmao!” he laughed. “Look at your face, Zobinnnn, luhmao.” He grinned, holding his phone out for his less-photogenic bud to see as he pat his back.

He looked down at the photo, and then back at Zeph, giving him a confident smile. “Zephlin— the fucking best bros, eh?”

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
totally not tiptoeing around anything

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

She was still apprehensive, while she waited expectantly to know if Trevor liked the gift or not. But to be fair, if he didn't like it, would he even say anything? The answer was a resounding probably not -- and sure, she knew that, but there was still something about hearing people say they liked a gift that made her nerves lessen.

“Oh, no, it’s— it’s amazing,” he said.

She sighed in relief, the tenseness in her shoulders relaxing, and her hesitant smile replaced with something more genuine.

Alright, see? She'd totally been overreacting -- or like, not overreacting, but over worrying about something that she clearly didn't need to worry about. And now she could add something else to the measly two things she knew about Trevor: he liked really old books that smelled dust and had poems that put her to sleep. Ash didn't understand the appeal, but hey, who was she to judge?

"You're welcome," she said to his million and one thank you's with a slight laugh as she stepped closer to give him a quick hug. The overwhelming scent of Axe body spray, which took her straight back to the horrors of middle school when the boys with no idea how to apply the stuff would spray on like the whole can of body spray, and everyone would be gagging at the scent, nearly choked her.

Ash was fairly certain that she'd never get used to that smell -- plus, she knew by this point that he tended to apply that much when he smelled like weed. Either way he went -- weed or Axe -- she hated the smell. Of course, that explained his generally... pleasant demeanor this morning. He was high. And she was starting to understand the "he can't function without his weed" adage that his roommates had seemed strangely passionate about.

Granted, last night he couldn't function with weed, and she wondered how much of last night he might remember, but she hoped it was nothing.

“Hey, have a seat,” he said with a gesture towards the couch as he headed out of the living room. “Make yerself at home.” He added from the other room.

Her arms folded across her stomach as she walked towards the couch to, well, sit. However, Ash came to a
hesitant stop when she noticed the leather bound journal laying haphazardly on one of the cushions. She picked it up, turning it over in her hands, and studying it for a moment before she tossed it to back onto the end of the couch and then took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.

What? Did you think she'd really open up some notebook she found on the couch? Please.

She settled back against the couch, pulling her legs up onto the couch so her knees were against her chest -- er, not against her chest, but you get the picture. Basically just that nervous posture that Ash tended to do when she expected everything to go wrong, as she was expecting right now. Like sure, Trevor had been nice for the two, maybe three minutes that she'd been here so far, but she was waiting for that to just kind of flip off and they'd get back to their unfinished argument from the night before.

Or, uhh... finished argument? If Ash was being perfectly honest, she still wasn't entirely sure what the whole argument had been about or what had even sparked it -- just that it had happened and it had been the first bad event in a series of cataclysmic events.

“An’ he makes his triumphant return, ready ta…erm…make this tha bes' damn mildly-hungover secon’ date t’at a guy who fucked up all of his interpersonal relationships in one night can,” Trevor was saying as he started back into the living room, and that right there she expected to devolve back into... into whatever last night had been, except it didn't and he just continued on his weird tirade, which brought an actual smile to her face and small roll of her eyes.

He took the seat beside her, and Ash twisted in the seat so she was facing him. She laid her head against the side of the couch as she folded one leg down and let her other dangle off the side of the couch. Okay, okay, so far... everything was going alright, and she was starting to relax.

Kind of.

Her fingers played with the hem of her sweater.

“So…w’at’s tha craic, darlin’?” he asked. “How’s yer weeken…”

Bad question.

“…mornin’?” he finished.

Good save.

Alright... if he just wanted to dance around the whole thing and not pay it any attention, that was fine by Ash. Obviously that had worked so well for them in the past (she was referring to the whole two of them trying to deny their feelings for each other and, of course, she meant it sarcastically). None of it had really been anything that needed to be looked into, anyway.

"It was..." she started, biting lightly into her tongue while she tried to pick her words carefully. Ash, in case it hadn't been made obvious by the many bridges that she had burned the night before, wasn't always the greatest at picking and choosing her words. "It was okay." She finally said, her gaze shifting down to look at her hands as she spoke.

"Better than last night," she joked half-heartedly, but realized that that wasn't a good joke, so naturally, Ash had to try and save herself from that. "Not that last night was like... bad bad. Like, no one got punched, so that was umm... that was good."

She fell quiet for a moment, biting into her bottom lip.

"How's your birthday been?" Ash asked. She was almost tempted to ask if his roommates had done anything for him but, given what she faintly remembered from last night, and the fact that the apartment was deadly silent, well... she could piece together that he probably hadn't made up with them quite yet.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
hypeee

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
N/A

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

Walk...

Right, because his best friend didn't have a car and neither did Zeph. He biked everywhere. Maybe Zeph should've brought his own bicycle and then they could've been biker buddies, riding around on their bicycles. Get a couple of those little bells that attached to the front. People would grab their kids and run into their houses to hide when they heard the little ching ching of their bicycle bells as they rode into neighborhoods -- because, ya know, no one messed with The Bicycle Buddies.

Zeph kept this tangent of thought to himself, however, mostly because it sounded positively ridiculous and he was still in that golden stage of desperately wanting to impress Lin and being worried that something as strange as bicycling buddies might make his strange best friend think twice about this friendship.

A ridiculous notion, but alas.

Instead, all he said was:

"You can buy swords from a pawn shop?" With his tone in kind of a hushed whisper of awe because like... wow, he really thought it would be harder to purchase sharp objects.

Keeping up with Lin when there wasn't sugar, Zeph decided, was much easier. He didn't go off on as many tangents and he was speaking slower. That or somehow, Zeph had gained magical powers over night in order to better understand his friend.

He listened as Lin explained their plans -- er, not their plans because he'd already done that. Something about a Serena the dog babysitter. Strange if you asked Zeph. Imagine having to hire a babysitter for your dog, although... as he looked at the pooch... yeah, he'd probably do the same if he had a dog. It had to get lonely staying home all the time, you know?

Much like Zeph tended to do all the time when it came to his new buddy... he found himself subconsciously mimicking the other boy's actions. So he finished off his own apple and followed after Lin, eyes widening in awe when Lin managed to make the basketball shot.

Wow.

He was so cool.

Zeph wasn't that wild, though, so he approached the trash can and tossed it in like a normal, boring human being but wow. Imagine having the balls to attempt what Lin just had. And then imagine having the skills to make that attempt a reality.

So. Cool.

(Considering that Zeph really thought Lin was cool, it kind of had to make one wonder what Zeph thought was uncool).

“You want some popcorn or something?” he asked. “I’ve got, like, three bags left, luhmao.” He gasped. “Oh, aaaand...”

And then, Lin was off, and Zeph wasn't even able to answer the question -- the answer was going to be a hell yeah. Popcorn was the best, alright? Anyone that said they hated popcorn or something like that clearly didn't appreciate the finer things in life.

Losers. That's what they were. Popcorn haters were losers.

When Lin came running back down the stairs, feather boas hanging from his shoulders like something from a 1920s magazine. Zeph's jaw dropped open a bit, mostly because he was astonished that Lin's collection of feather boas was far more than his own little sisters' boas.

Seriously, his little sisters would've lost their minds over these.

Zeph let out a laugh at the posture, his grin widening as Lin tossed two of them around his neck -- dark green and neon pink. Two colors that definitely completely and totally went together. He let out another small chuckle as a dark green feather drifted down in front of him, his dark eyes following its slow descent to the floor. It was a miracle boas stayed together with how much the feathers came off.

“Now, we’re even sexier sexier sexies, luhmaooo.” Lin said. “It’s the best field trip gear ever, eh?”

Wait, field trip gear?

“Hold up...”

Before a rather startled Zeph could fully comprehend the idea of going out in the feather boas, Lin was taking a picture of the two of them. He flashed a smile for the camera, although with such little warning, well... his smile looked like a middle schooler that was trying not to show their brand new braces to the camera for school picture day.

“Zephlin— the fucking best bros, eh?”

"Yeah... yeah, best bros ever." He agreed, his voice a little hesitant as he spoke because there was still the ever present question at the front of his brain that was demanding answers. And now, now that Lin had settled down for a minute, now was probably the time to ask.

"We're going out in public in these?" Zeph asked, grabbing the end of the pink boa and shaking it in the air for extra emphasis. A couple feathers drifted off of it and all Zeph could imagine was walking through a store while feathers drifted off of them. And he just knew that people would take pictures of the two of them because who wouldn't take pictures of two teenage boys wandering around with feather boas in a store?

"Are we gonna wear sunglasses and hats or something, too?" He added onto his original question with a slight laugh. Honestly, he was probably just giving Lin ideas to make them look even more ridiculous on their trip out into public, but that didn't occur to Zeph at the moment.

At the moment, he was trying to figure out how serious this feather boa deal was.

And at the moment, he was trying to add some more joking uhhh.... clothing options to try and make Lin see how ridiculous feather boas were.

Also, why did he have so many?

So many unanswered questions.

"Going out all dolled up with feather boas and sunglasses and our swords? We'd look like uhh... really sassy uhh... knights or something."

Another chuckle.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Charming as the Devil"
Jared Darrington

@He.went.2.Jared has set their status to:
Let's get this over with.

@He.went.2.Jared has set their outfit to:
Casual

@He.went.2.Jared has set their location to:
Ken & Mags place

@He.went.2.Jared has mentioned:
Gen, Evie, Simone, Magnolia

@He.went.2.Jared has interacted with:
Ken ( jasmyn )

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Jared couldn't say last night was a total loss, but he also couldn't say it was worth the effort put in to come back early. For his little business venture, it was great for laying down the final pieces of groundwork, but on a personal level it was a drag. To think he wasted his possibly last technical night as a single man playing 'nice' virtually on the bring of simping for Kennedy Parks. The girl was lucky she was gorgeous which is the only believable part of this whole thing. Well she also gave a damn good performance he had to admit. If singing didn't work out for her she could try her hand at acting.

However boring his night had been it paled in compression to his so called 'friends'. He used that term lightly especially considering the performance they gave the night before. Showing their flaws so publicly on twitter and in some of there cases in person. sobbing to the point of ruining your make-up? Not a good look. Just from access to a little alcohol and some teenage heartbreak...angst? It was like watching a reality show as they all seemed to one by one come tumbling down.

And people wondered why he was so strict with his company?

There was no place in his world for weakness like that. It's why he didn't get too attached, have 'best friends' (or as he liked to think people you're just handing the knife you want in your back to.), he didn't 'fall in love' or any of that cheesy nonsense you see on tv shows because that's where that crap belongs. In a fictional controlled environment. The real world was way to unpredictable to play with fire like that. No one was going to convince him otherwise that it was worth the risk, or that they were worth the hassle.

So why keep them around? Even despite their short-comings Jared looked at the long game. Once they got over themselves and this petty drama they would still prove to be much more useful as allies then not. So he could play the role he needed to even if begrudgingly. Plus at some point people like Gen and Evie would come to their senses. They were smart girls. He wouldn't deal with them otherwise. They'd realize they'd been wasting their precious time on people who couldn't and wouldn't live up to their well deserved standards, and then things would be fine.

That was as much as he could bring himself to actually care. Just knowing they deserved better because they were of a higher caliber, and should be more like him and be careful of the company they keep if they didn't want this sort of thing to keep happening. However due to not being a girl or a extremely close friend he didn't get specifically told what was going on. Just was the eye candy and drinking buddy for the night, and that was fine with him because then he didn't have to helpful. Wasn't his job, and they didn't ask that of him because they were too wrapped up in their problems to see possible escape or help options. Pus they were so drunk pointing that out or self-inserting himself would've just landed on deaf or angry ears and he wasn't in the mood for that. That's not why he came to the party.

No he came to deal with his families wishes, and the possibility of advancing himself. You know the whole reason he or anyone should be at this school. Well not the whole reason. He could've theoretically done this from any school, he was here because the current apple of his families eyes was rooming with his rotten apple of a sister. She was picked because she needed this boost too, a change of image, and he could use it too in a sense. He wasn't sure if it was equal, but any request his family made he followed.

Jared woke up the next morning only slightly hung-over. He'd come home and nursed himself to decent sobriety before even going to sleep knowing he'd have to get up and go pick Kenny up. Now for all his complaining it wasn't really her he had a problem with so to speak. She was beautiful, wasn't some sort of embarrassment, no real harm could come from having a girl like her on his arm. She was sweet...too sweet to be his type, but that was kinda the point.

It made it hard to be believable and last night sort of proved that, but with a little effort his friends came around. Especially wingman Gen. Under normal circumstances he might've been appreciative of her help...not that he believed he needed it. He could pull anyone he actually wanted without her help, but he supposed that's what 'friends' do for friends. They push each other to do better and be better, so he could understand it and let it slide.

Problem?

He didn't need to.

This whole thing was in the bag before she even thought to tap her perfectly manicured fingers in the keys. He didn't NEED to work harder, and was satisficed with not putting in more effort then necessary because he was the one that wasn't that great at acting. He'd spent the better part of the night still flirting with her, Evie, and Simone. Suddenly trying to figure out how to borderline simp for someone he hardly spoke to in front of them at least was difficult.

Perhaps that's why he drank more last night then he originally intended.

And thanks to that whole display he couldn't even find his way to Simone's good side one last time because he knew Gen the hawk would have something to say and once again that was effort he didn't feel like dealing with.

Jared dressed in his version of casual and made sure he looked impeccable. Anytime one goes out in public you need to be your best was something he did believe in. Especially if today went as planned he would need to for sure. He grabbed his keys to one of the other cars since the one he'd been driven home in was probably still at Mags and Ken's. He didn't particularly care. These cars as nice as they were for him were a dime a dozen.

He made his way to the car and before taking off sent her a simple text saying he was on her way and to be ready once he got there. He was impatient when it came to these things, and he didn't wanna start his morning off waiting. He didn't need an address since Ken lived with his abominable sister. Another inconvenience for him, but his family saw as a plus. Who in their right mind chooses to live with someone as chaotic as his sister? All of Magnolia's friends were bottom of the barrel in his eyes, but he had to make an exception for Kennedy Parks. Oh joy...

It didn't take too long to arrive. He took a deep death to get his mind on right. Alright all his complaints and doubts needed to go out the window. After all this wasn't completely her fault so his irritation could be spared from her, for now. For now they could just meet up get this over with and enjoy a nice little brunch in the meantime. Food yup, that's what he needed to turn this morning around. Food and a good cup of coffee. With that thought in mind he got out and made his way to their doorstep. He rang the doorbell and gave a little knock, "Hey it's Jared." He spoke relatively loudly hoping to be heard.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

I'm still young, wasting my youth
I'll grow up next summer

M O O D : mildly pissed, mostly lamenting

O U T F I T : ryder's clothes

L O C A T I O N : ryder's bougie fucking mansion

M E N T I O N S : gen, adriane, landon

I N T E R A C T I O N S : ryder

T A G S : sunshineysoul

​

What a sweet, tearful, loving moment between the two, long-lost-and-recently-united best friends. It was enough to make a grown man cry, huh?

Michael chuckled, catching the shirt that Ryder tossed him and gritting his teeth as his aching head begged him to just lay down and go the fuck back to sleep, right there on the bathroom floor. “Kidding, bro— did you get soft while you were touring, princess?” he teased, tired voice tinged with impishness. “Why don’t you put that costume on yourself?” He gestured to it as Ryder picked it from the floor. “Might suit you better, Saint Alistar. You could pull your halo out of your ass, too, while you’re at it, bro.”

No, Mike wasn’t pissed at Ryder. This was the way that he talked all the time. He said it in love.

But also, Mike was pissed, so that also probably had something to do with it.

With a sigh, an eyeball, and a light chuckle, Mike began to walk toward last night’s bed again. He appreciated Ryder’s offer, but there was no fucking way that he was fitting any of his pants. “Yeah,” Mike said, rubbing his hand on the back of his head and feeling the hair that’d pressed flat against the back of the tub. He closed one eye, looking up at the gleaming metal showerhead and staring at it for a second.

Couldn’t a man admire a good showerhead? That was a good fucking showerhead. Mike was one to admire good utilities. His frugal heart didn’t like exorbitant prices for mundane things like the handle of a toilet, but a good showerhead? Oh, that was fucking worth it.

Then again, that was coming from a bastard whose shower in his own apartment was five-feet-by-five-feet max, with a showerhead that flew off and given him a concussion as a vibe check at least once ever week. It was like Russian roulette, but with a showerhead that would bludgeon you to death at four in the morning. Fun times, huh?

“Thanks,” he said again as Ryder exited the bathroom, and he sat the clean shirt on the counter, whipped off his underwear, and turned on the shower to clean up.

Mike’s head fucking hurt, but the drumming of the water against his head and the steam from the heat made him sigh in relief. He usually took cold showers in the morning because his apartment was so fucked that the water heater took a half a century to work, but one good thing about Ryder’s bougie shower was that the heat came pretty much instantly.

In his deep cleaning courtesy of one of Ryder’s fancy shampoos that smelled like some kind of random tree, Mike’s mind wandered back to last night.

A bust. It was a total fucking bust.

What had the plan been again?

1. Get plastered.

2. Fuck shit up.

3. Sexsexsex.

What had the night ended up being?

1. Try not to slam the bane of your fucking existence’s face into the shining tile floor.

2. Try not to slam an iron-deficient over-glorified gloryhole’s face into the drink table.

3. Try not to slam the face of a condescending bitch into a table— and kinda fail at that.

He sighed.

He should’ve just stuck to his original, genius plan.

Hey, at least the liquor when he’d gotten here last night was good. Blacking out in a bathtub was always…

He would say nice, but it was more just…something that happened pretty often.

At least this bathtub didn’t feel like he was laying in sand.

When he stepped out of the shower, head still throbbing, Mike dried himself off and tugged on Ryder’s shirt, then wrapped a towel around his waist to walk into Ryder’s room. Curly hair still dripping onto his shoulders and face, he picked out a pair of underwear that at least kind of looked like they’d fit and a pair of shorts. It was November first, but Mike was also much shorter than Ryder, so he couldn’t really go wrong with shorts.

Besides, it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to be going home in an hour or something, anyway.

When he stepped down the stairs, he could hear loud, consistent noise from the kitchen, and then he realized that it was a song. His throbbing head struggled to find the beat for a moment, but he could hear the melody.

Usually, he’d sing along, with it, but now, as he walked through the kitchen to go to the dining room, he gave Ryder a glare and a “turn it down, bro”.

He dropped himself into the seat at the head of the table, and the slumped his head and arms down on it, closing his eyes and laying face down.

“Fuuuuck me,” he groaned.

This was hellish.

MICHAEL K. REID

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

oh, ain't it lovely, ain't it sweet
to be staring at my feet, when i see you on the street

M O O D : friends!

O U T F I T : cute

L O C A T I O N : dani's (and cole's) apartment

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : dani, cole

T A G S : sunshineysoul

​

Had Kellian said that big people made her nervous? Just their general presence? Well…

Big people made her nervous, just their general presence.

Upon Dani’s introduction, Kelli nodded, her heart fluttering anxiously. “Gotcha…he’s your Kian,” she said, laughing quietly at her light joke. She fidgeted with her hands, closing her hand around her pinky and pulling it backwards slightly. “I…erm, I think we spoke on Twitter once or something, yeah— he seems cool.” She was talking about him like he wasn’t there, and she laughed slightly at that realization, stepping back.

Dani began to walk towards her room, and Kellian glanced back at Cole for a moment before she followed after her.

Was he not going to talk? She kinda wanted to meet him…

It was cool, though. She got it. She always liked to talk to Kian’s guests back home and stuff, and Kian usually liked to talk to hers, but it was totally cool that Cole didn’t want to talk to his little sister’s friend.

She was repeating herself a lot.

Had she mentioned that she was nervous? Even without the big person?

Kelli stepped in the room after Dani, looking around and taking in the scenery quickly and quietly. “Cute room,” she complimented as Dani shut the door behind them.

Dani turned to Kelli, brows knit. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” Kelli asked, her own brows knitting, and then she realized that her nervousness probably looked concerning, and she clasped her hands to stop her fidgeting, giving Dani an nervous smile. She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Oh, yeah! I’m great!” She laughed again. “Sorry…new place, new people, you know, but it’s fine.” She gave her another nervous smile and a nod.

Her nervous smile grew broader when she recalled what she was here to do. Arts Fest! Right!

She opened her arms for another hug. If it wasn’t obvious, Kelli was a hugger. “I’m so glad to see you! Thanks for helping!” She bade her new friend preemptive thanks, nodding her head.

She looked around the room, and then looked back at Dani, giving her a smile. She always felt awkward in new spaces, and…well, especially in this space. She didn’t even really know Dani, and so it felt kind of weird to just…go and sit somewhere like she owned it, or even really relax her shoulders or take more than a couple of steps anywhere without asking permission.

“Erm, mind if I sit down?” she asked, raising her brow and gesturing at the bed with a soft, nervous laugh.

kellian phelan

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: this pitiful bitch

OUTFIT: maid costume

LOCATION: the johannes mansion (ash's room)

basics

MENTIONS:
Oates
INT:
Winona (Jace)
@LowkeyLovingLoki (Seb)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

"Will the real Oates be there?" Callum queried with a high-pitched inflection, grunting as he practically helped himself off of the ground. At most, Jace was just directing his limbs with an ounce or two of force behind his muscles. He hadn't realized laying down at a party was an option, because if he did, none of this probably would have happened in the first place and Callum would be passed out far away from anything that reeked of social interaction.

"I'll see you, S-Oa-Seb," he spoke indistinctly, offering a small wave and a split second of eye contact with his droopy, asymmetrically closed eyes. He allowed himself to be steered out of the way by Jace, his feet dragging with every step. He occasionally looked up to intrusively stare at whichever teenager they passed, struggling to keep up with Jace's walking pace and the wild, seemingly rapid movements of everyone around them.

He blindly threw himself onto the bed, taking all of his weight off of Jace at once to get that sweet, sweet restful relief. Only his torso connected with the mattress, leaving him kneeling beside the bed, which would have only been slightly uncomfortable if it wasn't for the poorly-fitting maid costume stuck to his torso and thighs.

It was so, so painful, and the inebriated boy could feel the fabric tearing into his flesh, but he was so... exhausted. And not in his standard sluggish, passively tired way, but in a much more dramatic, constant moaning and sighing way. "I'm so tiiiiiired!" he cried, releasing a staccato of pouty whimpers accompanied by a long sigh.

He climbed up onto the bed, fumbling with the covers until he resigned to laying atop the blanket, trembling slightly due to the cold. He was fortunate not to be his typical below freezing level of coldness, likely thanks to the alcohol he'd so stupidly and spitefully consumed en masse. He could just barely pick up what Jace said, but chose instead to turn and lay facing the wall rather than reply. A wave of immense fatigue and apathy had washed over him as soon as he'd touched the plush mattress, making moving his lips an unbearable task.

After a silent minute, he rolled to the side and looked up at Jace, squinting and reaching a hand out to hush the bright light jabbing his eyeballs. "Dim the light," he groaned, authoritatively flapping his hand in Jace's general direction.

After another painfully silent minute (approximately five seconds in Callum time), he finally gathered the sheer will to reply to Jace's question far later than conversationally acceptable. "No, buddy, I'm f-fucking pissed," he spat bluntly, glaring at a helpless and seemingly slightly disoriented Jace, "Or I'm sad. You decide." He did that assholeish hand flap again, far too drunk and tired to bother processing his emotions past the bare surface. Wasn't it obvious enough how he felt? Maybe if people could just read his mind, Callum wouldn't have to say such straightforward, cold things all the time and hurt people's feelings.

"I don't really need you here," he stated flatly, recalling all of the times he'd said that to his teachers and grandparents as a bratty kid. He had finally found a sliver of peace in whosever room this was, looking forward to choosing the option of sleeping off his emotions and drunkenness. It would have been easy to just conk out too if it wasn't for that damn LIGHT. And Jace just watching over him. And those pesky, godforsaken images of Oates locking lips with Rome, Kian, and worst of all, his wishful dreams of it being Callum himself.

The whole "friend" idea had taken its toll on him and he had to admit to himself that it just wouldn't work. It was either all of Oates or none at all for Callum, and the simple truth was that he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he was cut off from Oates. The restful, but not replenishing nights he'd endured that week his ex had been avoiding him were his own personal hell, sending him stumbling and lost in the deep, deep unknown. It was a feeling he hadn't come face to face with in at least ten years, and the last thing he wanted was to be thrown into it again.

"Please get Oates," he requested sheepishly, ungracefully smacking his hand over his eyes to avoid his tired eyes melting in the bedroom's harsh light, "He-he'll know what to do. He aaalways does." God, his head hurt, and it took complete and utter silence from both Jace's and Callum's mouths to remember just how much pain his body was in. And nearly all of it was Callum's own doing. Maybe he shouldn't have skipped lunch that day either.

Hopefully, if Oates wanted to see him at all, it would give Callum the courage to repeat the truths that gushed out of him to Seb once more. It had already drained him once, and he wasn't sure just how far he'd make it before he closed off and entered a temporary stasis for the next week and a half.

code by valen t.

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Goddess of Chaos"
Magnolia Darrington

@Rebel.lia.on has set their status to:
Feelin like Kesha's Tick-tok song

@Rebel.lia.on has set their outfit to:
Pajamas

@He.went.2.Jared has set their location to:
Home

@He.went.2.Jared has mentioned:
Josie, Saint, Lucky, Ryder, Ken

@He.went.2.Jared has interacted with:
Ryder ( sunshineysoul ) [Via twitter]

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Damn last night must've been wild since Magnolia couldn't remember any of it. She remember showing up, meetin up with Kenny, and a handful of twitter conversations...that was it. This wasn't unusual since whenever Mags parties she partied hard. She didn't need confirmation to know the only reason she wound up back home in decent shape and...even in actual pajamas...wow! All this had to be thanks to the best roommate she's ever had the wonderful Kenny Parks. She was a god send honestly. The one stable person in her circle, that didn't need drinks or drugs, or any of this bullshit to feel alive.

Best part about having friends that did like to party like that though? The part never really ends. Tonight she was going to do it all over again possibly even harder and bigger because it wasn't just some costume party with a bunch of strangers, it was her girl Josie's birthday! She was looking forward to the trio going out tonight since it seemed none of them found their way to each other last night. Odd since they usually partied together...well until Josie wonders off which isn't unusual. Maggie honestly found it a bit amusing and endearing like the girl was Alice in wonderland exploring the world.

Poor Lucky was the one having to usually round them up in the end since as much as Maggie wanted to be of help it was about a 50/50 shot she was capable. She wasn't quite sure who all else was coming since Josie had started inviting more people. She didn't have an issue so long as no one was going to be a buzz kill. All that wasn't till later tonight so she had the whole morning to figure out how she was going to fix her hang-over. Should she start light drinking now to get tipsy and take it away or should she actually try and nurse it away and be fresh for tonight?

She decide to enlist the help of her friends to decide. First was Ryder...why? She didn't know. His name popped up in her head from remembering some of the twitter drama the night before. Crazy he just got back and was already in the middle of some chaos. No wonder they were friends. Then of course Josie since let's face it if anyone possibly went too hard and needed to be checked on it was her. Lucky was probably the only decently responsible one of the trio and so she was sure he was perfectly fine. Josie was the only concern because of that wonderlust of hers.

Magnolia actually worried a whole lot about the few friends she had, and did her best to fiercely have their back when need be. She wasn't scared to stand up to anyone for them because she was convinced she had nothing left to lose. What could anyone here do to her that she or her family hadn't already? Nothing. The only thing she had where these few connections so even if she wasn't always the best at vocalizing it too them she cared deeply. She wanted to protect what she could, and savor the moments she had with them feeling like everything else they'd eventually fade away and slip through her finger tips.

Of the two conversation she had only one took her for a slight loop. Josie and Saint. Not something she wanted to hear. In fact she hated the guy as much as Lucky did and it burned her to know she could tear him apart simply because of things like this that proved Josie wasn't over him. She still had feelings for him and as dangerous as it was Maggie had to respect that out of respect for her friend. She was the last person who could tell anyone how to live their life, so she played the supportive friend role forcing a smile on her lips even if Jojo wasn't physically there to see it.

Sadly somethings you can't tell people. You can scream and yell and lecture till you're blue in the face, but it just won't sink in until they are ready for it to. Some things people have to learn the hard way on their own no matter how much you wish you could save them from the pain. That was the only way it would stick...this was one of those lessons. Josie had to be done for herself, no one could tell her how to feel or not to feel. Josie can't act on the feelings of others, only her own. All Maggie could do was be there for her, and offer up as many escape routes as possible in hopes that lesson will kick in sooner rather then later.

However her conversation with Ryder was much more satisfying. Flirting with Ryder wasn't new by any means. She started off doing it to piss off Jared since the two actually talked and were Jared's definition of friends. Which didn't mean much, but it was something. Anything to get under his skin was worth it to her. Now? It still served that purpose, but now it was more of a fun habit.

Not to mention the guy was nice enough to offer to not only come over but also cook for her? That's a win in her book for sure. She supposed she should also call or text Lucky just to clarify things for tonight but that could be done after her head wasn't killing her, and when she could actually think straight. She stumbled out of her room running her fingers through her braids messaging her head. She had no clue where her 'costume' was either but the chances of her returning it was slim. She didn't see Ken anywhere so she assumed she was already gone with Jared.

What she saw in him she'll never understand. Honestly the girl deserved a gold medal for having to deal with both of them, and a Nobel peace prize for being on friendly terms with them both despite their constant bickering. She was an angel that's for sure, and if Jared ever mad a wrong move against her he'd regret it. Blood might be thicker then water, but Ken was part of the family she chose which made her infinitely more important.

Now where was her towel? Did she need to do laundry? Did she have actual clothes? God sobering up was hard, why did anyone choose to not be drunk 24/7?

Oh yah...livers and shit.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

I am, I am trying
The best that I can

M O O D : ...so.

O U T F I T : t-shirt & sweatpants

L O C A T I O N : the apartment

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : ash

T A G S : Winona

​

If Sean Trevor Callaghan were to ever write his personality down, for whatever reason, and if he were to divvy his personality up into vices and virtues, he knew several things that he would not write down for himself, and there were several words that would never even cross his mind to pen down in his neat, steady handwriting:

Honest.

…

…

Well, several words was an exaggeration.

Point was, Trevor knew that he wasn’t honest, and now, he realized that was a dumb example to even begin to use.

Oh, no, no, no, he had another one:

Able to ignore the elephant in the room.

Because he couldn’t do that, either.

He liked to think that he was talented in forgetting what he didn’t want to remember, but…

See: Homecoming. See: the Monday after Homecoming. See: the fair.

See…

Halloween.

As Ash’s answer came— the better than last night, even though last night wasn’t bad bad or whatever the exact words that she’d said were— he began to get that sinking feeling in his chest. The words from last night’s texts swam through his fuzzy head.

His lips pulled inward, his brows knitting. He forced a chuckle that came out more awkwardly than he’d intended at Ash’s question of how his birthday has been.


“Shite,” he answered bluntly. He looked over at her, meeting her eyes as he adjusted his arm on the back of the couch. “That gift made it better, and you’re here, so that’s also a plus, but…shite.”

He immediately kicked himself for letting that slip.

Great way ta dig yer own hole there, Seany. Great way ta wave that red cape in fron'a that bull.

He paused a moment, considering just moving onto another subject.

Oh, look, a butterfly.

Lovely weather we’re having.

You look hot.

(She did look hot.)

Hey, ya know what 293 + 18 is?

Me either.

No…none of those ideas felt like they would work, and now a cloud was hanging over their silence and putting a damper on the mood.

Trevor could try and ignore it all that he wanted, but…

Ya have ta apologize, gobshite.

He knew that was true.

With a soft sigh, he started talking without thinking too much.

“Ash,” he started, his voice a bit apprehensive, as if he were testing the waters, “erm, uh…”

His hand twitched as he struggled for his words.

He should’ve planned a whole speech before he started talking.

His brows knit together, and he met her eyes, the worry in them visible and obvious.

“Hey, darlin’, can we…uh…can we talk?”

TREVOR CALLAGHAN

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE
ROLL AROUND THIS ROUNDABOUT, OH YEAH

M O O D : HATS LMAOOOO

O U T F I T : spot the drip lmao

L O C A T I O N : his condo

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : zephyyyyy

T A G S : Winona

​

“We’re going out in public in these?” Zeph asked as Lin made his way to the kitchen to pull out the last few bags of popcorn to pop, even though he hadn’t gotten an answer for Zeph. “Are we gonna wear sunglasses and hats or something, too?”

Were they gonna go out in public in these? What kinda question was that?

“Duhhhh,” Lin laughed, wiggling his butt as he ripped open the plastic of one of the popcorn packages, giving an “ope” as it jumped out and onto the counter. Ripping the plastic off of another package, he continued. “What kinda show do you think I’m running here, Zephy?” He picked up the packages, slamming them together so that they clapped and laughing at the sound. “I got some hats and stuff, too, calm your titties, calm your titties,” he laughed. “I got some assless chaps somewhere, too— I think you could pull ‘em off, luhmaooo.”

He opened his microwave and threw in one of the bags of popcorn, then tapped the 2 and laughed happily as the thing fired up. He gave the glass a solid pat before spinning around on his heel and grinning at his bro. “Bro, c’mon,” he said, plodding out of the kitchen and to the stairs, his dog bounding behind him.

He turned sharply to the left, turning into his messy bedroom, with its hardwood littered with discarded Hot Wheels, forgotten Nerf guns, and random, still-packaged Easter candies, among other things, parted to make their path to the closet.

Lin began to step expertly into the tiny blank spots between the clutter on the floor, making his way to a small rack mounted on his wall with random, assorted hats.

Duh, Lin had a hat rack. What kinda badass didn’t?

You never knew when you’d need a good hat. Or a bad hat. Or a ugly hat. Or a sexy hat, ooh, la, la. Or you want a banana hat? Take that, too.

Don’t take it take it, though, luhmao. Mine. It was his.

“‘mere,” he said, waving his arm to get Zeph to come over to him, as if it were nothing. Pfft, Zephy was a big boy; he could handle a lil’ bit of clutter. “Watch your step, luhmao.”

He looked over at his hats again, tapping on his chin as he squinted his eyes at them, like an appraiser. Did he want a red hat…? Or a pink hat…? A baseball snapback…?

HA!

He found it, and he quickly snatched it, fastening the strap beneath his head.

Dramatically, he turned to Zeph, covering his face with his hands before pulling his hands slowly apart and wiggling his hands as he moved them outward.

Atop his head was a hat, shaped like a shark that was eating his head. The felt teeth went down to his forehead.

“What do ya think?” he asked, grinning widely. “Badass, huh?”

He laughed happily, turning back to the hats and quickly pulling Zeph’s from the rack. “Zephaniah Schmephaniah,” he said, and then he lidded his eyes, making his face stern for a moment. “Bow,” he commanded.

When Zeph leaned down, he tucked the hat beneath his arm, careful not to squish it. “I now knight thee,” Lin said, putting on a terrible— but still pretty fucking good, if he had to say so himself, ess-em-aych— British accent, extending his forefinger, tapping the side of it on his left shoulder twice, and lifting it over Zeph’s head to tap his right shoulder twice as well, “Sir Zephaniah Schmephaniah theeee…seventieth.” He cracked a grin, and then he dissolved into laughter, pulling the hat— a black baseball cap with a five-inch unicorn horn on the back of it, with the tip of it painted in red paint, as if it were bloodied— onto Zeph’s head. “Go forth, and, uh…bless some shit or whatever knights do,” Lin laughed, giving a big, dramatic shrug.

Downstairs, the microwave began to screech.

“Popcorn!” Lin cheered, and, with that, he quickly and easily hopped back over the belongings littering the floor and rushed out of the door, trouncing down the stairs as his dog, now with a discarded sock from who-knew-when in her mouth, followed behind him.

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: all business

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: park

basics

MENTIONS:
Ash, Kane, Maddie, Corey Lucky

INT:
Winona (Damien)
ohdittoh (Felix)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Javier Cervantes

Javier woke with what may have been one of the most splitting headaches of his life. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it still fucking hurt. Had that not been enough, waking up on someone else's couch always made him crabby given how much of a bum he must have looked like rising at noon at some distant acquaintances' mansion because he partied too hard the night before.

Oh god, and the surprise he'd left in the office... Hope they have a maid.

At any rate, it was kind of Ash not to send him home sick, alone, drunk, and just overall not okay. He'd have a lot of explaining to do for Kane, who he now felt sorry for given how abruptly Javi had sent him off. Either way, it still hurt that the boy hadn't bothered to go after him at all, even if Javi had made himself pretty clear. He didn't regret anything he said, especially to Maddie and Corey, but the way it went down was... well, it left a lot to be desired.

Without a word to anyone, Javi slipped out of the mansion and headed outside, still clad in nothing but his black shorts. He sat out by the street waiting for Kane, who he'd given a phone call to requesting a ride home. He intentionally omitted any explanation, unable to bring himself to rehash the embarrassment and uncomfortable nature surrounding the way things had gone with Maddie. If there was a god out there that truly loved Javi, they would just once allow him the solace of forgetting the problems nagging him in the back of his mind.

The ride home was near-silent and tense, but at least Kane didn't seem all that mad. He was more concerned and very obviously gentle with the matter, which only made Javi want to tuck his head further into his shell. This was a conversation for later.

Upon his arrival back at Kane's place, Javi cleaned himself up and started preparing for his ahem appointment with Mr. Damien Slater, which seemed to be slated for sometime... soonish. Javi was never one to schedule, and his clients would have to put up with his lack of professionality if they wanted the real good shit. Not like that goddamn narc Jimmy who, by the way, doesn't even have a big toe on his left foot.

After sampling one of the goods to take the edge off of his hideously painful headache, Javier made his way back to his car, crossing his fingers that he was on time for... whatever. He would hate to lose business, especially from the most lucrative of dumbasses. Javi had endured far too many poison-tipped "advices" from his "business competitors" to suffer a loss like this. And, honestly, Javier could have used someone to talk to, even if all this guy wanted out of him was pills. Someone that wasn't A. someone that fucked him over and B. Kane, whose eyes just had that judgmental feel to them ever since he witnessed the closely-guarded emotions Javi had no previous intent to share with anyone at all. The guy simply knew too much.

To make matters worse, Javi felt a hint of guilt lingering within him for the way his encounter with Lucky ended. It was fine and the two seemed to get on well (was it natural or only because they'd been drinking?), yet Lucky was struggling with... something. The nosy, sensitive side of Javi urged him to dig deeper, but his conscience had stopped him before he got the chance to reach out or ask around too much. The guy clearly wanted to forget it.

Javi wanted it to mean nothing, much like most of his hookups, but it happened at the very worst time. Subconsciously, his memories of their shared experience coalesced with the feelings he'd dug up with Maddie prior to meeting him in person. If that wasn't weird enough, well, there was the whole thing with Lucky's behavior and...

Sigh. Does no one around here know to occupy their night with anything other than drama?

Javi pulled up to the park, situating himself not at all conspicuously beside a tree as he fiddled with the plastic pill bag inside his pocket. He stood idly by on his phone, which didn't last long before his prized customer rather boldly approached him and cut to the chase. He looked up and flashed the boy a sleazy smile.

"Good to see you, my man," he greeted, giving him a smooth dap. He subtly, ever so casually looked beyond Damien's shoulder and behind the tree to avoid any unwanted interlopers. Then, before displaying the bag in his sweatshirt pocket, Javi nodded his head to the blonde boy beside him. "Slow down, slow down, brother. Who's this?"

The boy's face seemed to ring a bell, but Javi couldn't quite place where he'd seen it nor what the significance of the name was. Was he another one of Javi's little brother's friends? He kinda had that baby face about him, and he sorta looked like that weird, dainty Bryce kid from elementary school. Javi remembered the day he came home with his brother and passed his cold to the entire family. What a little shit.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Felix. What's the relation with our dear Slutter? Friend, business associate, butt buddy..." He let out a sharp, teasing laugh then extended his hand for a handshake, cocking his head a bit and lifting an eyebrow. "Do I know you from somewhere?" He squinted, frying his brain preemptively trying to come up with an answer. "I'm a bit new to the area, so... faces are still a little fuzzy."

code by valen t.

 

[mogy]

Oates Oates
" podcasts, amirite? "

@bigO has set their status to:
so callum is drunk, isn't he...

@bigO has set their outfit to:
costume

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

@bigO has interacted with:
kian, jace, callum

mogy has mentioned:
geminiy , Winona , hery

The curly-haired boy opened his eyes as he leaned back into his initial position, his lips tingling just-so-slightly from the sensation that were Kian's. The expression awaiting was one of confusion, assumingly about what just happened, and to be completely honest, Oates didn't know either. Thinking about it, his own face also didn't contain a smile, even if it had usually been something he didn't leave his apartment without, but this time it wasn't on purpose.

While Kian hoped to form a unified sentence to share his thoughts on what had just happened between the two of them, Oates was left to do nothing but look at Kian and wait for whatever it was that was going to leave his mouth. Staring into Kian's eyes, however, was almost surreal. They were just eyes, sure, but the surreal thing was that it had been no different than as if Oates from three years ago was staring at Kian from three years ago; nothing had truly changed. Sure, neither Kian nor Oates were scrawny little boys with acne-covered faces and musts only mothers could love anymore, but Kian's eyes—the real Kian—hadn't changed a bit from the time Oates saw them last.

Hazel is the universe; branches of slightly lighter color stretching out, revealing fruits of reddish-brown and leaves of green; planets and stars containing all shades of brown had been comparably infinite from his point of view, and like that last night they spent together, just looking at each other until exhaustion got the better of them both, Oates found himself lost, exploring.

Words leaving Kian's mouth, if there even were any, melted into the thin cloth of the background wrapping around Oates. He couldn't exactly tell why or what his feelings towards Kian were, nor was he trying to figure it out. He was safe. This was safety. Kian was Oates's safe right now, and he quite frankly didn't care how long it's been or if this was appropriate—he needed this.

Time spent in Kian's eyes felt both like an eternity and like a second, neither of the two being a particularly correct subjective assumption of time's passage, but when Kian locked the pair's lips together once again, Oates's face cupped in Kian's hands, there was no need to see anymore.

Their lips now danced a contemporary piece choreographed by the two of them, perfectly aligned and any deviations from a previous ensemble became a part of the new one; a masterpiece was the kiss that two boys shared, their past called to the present in however long it will have lasted.

But as life taught us, all good things, however good and perfect and endless they may seem, must come to a close. So as Kian shuffled to stand up, ranting about this whole thing feeling wrong, Oates remained on the floor, looking up at him, his own hazel eyes begging Kian's not to leave. The boy standing said things which made sense, and Oates couldn't deny how much better both of them deserved then this (even if it did feel good), but it was as if his own lips were sealed with the departure from Kian's; as if the intricate dance locked them, leaving him to look confused and concerned with no words said, with no confirmation forwarded to Kian.

And just like that, Oates was alone in the bedroom, not really sure what had happened, but left with more than enough time to think about what happened...

...or not.

His phone sounded, several times, and by the time he managed to get to reality and slide it out of his back pocket, there were already countless messages from an unknown contact...

...and well, let's just say that there was no better spring up slap than hearing that your ex-boyfriend who you were supposed to meet up with some time ago was now incredibly drunk and feeling up people inappropriately all while he didn't even drink water or eat snacks as you instructed him to do in case something like this wouldn't have happened.

So, he sprang up and hurried. What else could he have done? Callum didn't have a lot of other people who were ready to go out of their way to pick him up and get him at least a little bit sobered up, and it was what friends did for each other. Oates also kind of asked him to go to this party, so it wasn't exactly fair of him to just leave, not that he would ever do that to anybody.

Leaving the room, the boy fixed his costume however much he could as he made his way to the kitchen to get one plastic cup filled with water and another with some random crackers. With those, he made his way to Ash's room as instructed by Jace.

"Hey, I brought you some water..." Oates spoke in a sort of calm tone of voice after he closed the door behind him with his leg, and, like expected, Callum looked like a rotting corpse, but that was nothing new. He put down the cups on the nightstand next to the bed before facing Jace.

The other boy didn't really look pleased with the whole situation, but like with Callum being a dead corpse, when was Jace ever pleased with anything?

"Thank you, Jace, for looking after him," Oates said, a bit more silently after walking closer to Jace. Drunk Callum was never a good thing, so Jace must have had more than enough of his shenanigans. "Please go and enjoy the rest of the party, and I'll take care of Cal."

º º code by dildo º º

 

[sunshineysoul]

ryder alistar

@rydeonme has set their status to:
i'm the best friend

@rydeonme has set their outfit to:


@rydeonme has set their location to:
kitchen

@rydeonme has mentioned:
gen

@rydeonme has interacted with:
mike

@rydeonme has tagged:
ohdittoh

@rydeonme has written a tl;dr:
i'm a musician AND a chef, fight me

ryder's head turned over his shoulder as he heard the king of hangovers enter the kitchen. a chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head and reached over to his phone to turn the volume down, ever so slightly.

right as mike sat down at the table, his omelette was done and ryder had plated it quite beautifully if he did say so himself. he always had this thing about when he cooked, feeling like he was on food network or something, and he knew he was wining every time. look, it's not like ryder was the best cook in the world, but ryder never did anything just half-way. if he got into something he was determined to be no less than amazing.

it had been working out pretty well for him, becoming amazing at everything he did. when he was younger, it was sports. mostly soccer and baseball, never basketball. he had a basketball accident that involved his face skidding across the court when some dude tried to check him from behind and it was a pretty nasty burn. ryder was like, five, but he'll swear up and down that that incident was the reason he never picked up another basketball. but with soccer, he didn't just want to be a defender or goalie, no, he worked his ass off and became the most valuable middle on the team. speeding up and down and around on the court, once he had the ball, there was barely anyone who could take it away from him. the goalies could barely see the ball leave the vicinity of his feet before he launched it past them and into the net. and with baseball? you've never seen a better tweleve-year-old short stop. no one was quicker, both in how he moved and how he threw. accuracy, speed, agility, everything to make the perfect short stop.

all a result of ryder working day and night, watching everything he did down to a T, making sure that he wasn't doing anything that would somehow ruin or disrupt his performance on the field.

but when he found music?

it was a different animal.

everything was about writing the best song, having the best performance, the best everything. he knew he was the best at what he did, and he also knew that a lot of people couldn't see that. but everyone would come around eventually, right? ryder thought the cheering of his millions of fans seemed to prove so.

so yea, ryder went all out when he cooked for his best friend.

"bon appetit, jackass," ryder placed the plate in front of mike, well, more like in front of mike's head as he pathetically had it on the table, like he was dying or something. which, to be fair, mike probably felt like dying.

ryder plopped down in the chair next to mike, actually turning his music down and starting to cut up his omelette in bite-sized pieces.

"dude, what the hell happened last night? you told me you fucked gen but is she that much of a bitch that she passed misery onto you like it's a fucking STD?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Adriane Holloway
"I want to live, not merely survive."

@omg_adriane has set their status to:
tension sucks

@omg_adriane has interacted with:
Corey, Maddie, Gus

@omg_adriane has mentioned:
Landon

@omg_adriane has tagged:
jasmyn natsukashii sunshineysoul ​

The Halloween party had at least turned out decently enough in the end -- well, more or less. As in... it had ended decently for her. Like Landon wasn't the best option for a quick hookup, but whatever. She'd been bored, he'd been there... one thing had led to another and after finding an empty guestroom, well, she'd at least done what she had set out to do when she had first arrived at the party.

Anyway, she'd gone home. Changed out of the ridiculous outfit. Gone to bed because look, beauty sleep was important as hell. The following morning, she'd gotten up and gone about her daily morning routine -- which was basically just shower, clothes, makeup. Normally, she would've grabbed a cup of coffee and something small for breakfast but given the fact that she was supposed to hangout with Gus later, well... she figured the caffeine could wait until then.

Mid doing her hair, Adriane's phone rang. She looked down at it to see a message from Maddie. A little back and forth later, and she found out that her disaster of a best friend had fallen asleep on his ex-girlfriend's couch. Absolutely pitiful and just plain embarrassing. Honestly, did he have absolutely no respect for himself? Because like any self-respecting person would never allow themselves to be in that kind of situation.

With a roll of her eyes, Adriane had finished getting ready. On her way to Maddie's, she had made a detour to grab a few coffees -- as in like, for her, Gus, and Corey per Maddie's request. Her overly bubbly friend had refused one, and Adriane hadn't been surprised. You didn't need more caffeine when you were just that... naturally... cheerful and everything. It kind of sickened her -- poor Maddie really thought the world was rainbows and sparkles, didn't she?

Now, Adriane was seated at the counter in said apartment. The coffees were on the counter next to her and she was watching Maddie as she hurried around a kitchen, a bit of a disgusted look on her face as she did.

"Honestly, Maddie," she was saying, "do you have any idea how long it's going to take you to work off all these calories? Like do you want to look, like, Evie? All bloated so you have to resort to cheap fashion made from scraps of clothing?" Adriane gave a little tsk sound with her tongue as she grabbed her coffee and brought it up to her lips, taking a sip of it, and then she heard Corey's voice.

Adriane hadn't seen Corey since...

Oh, who knew? A year or so ago?

(She knew -- it'd been two years).

Whatever, it wasn't like she really cared that much. So what? She'd had a dumb puppy crush on Corey and they'd dated for a while before breaking up in a perfectly amicable way. It wasn't like that had had... any effect on Adriane. It wasn't like she'd been hurt by their breakup whatsoever. Nope. She'd brushed it off and had never dated again, instead electing to sleep around.

It was more freeing.

It wasn't as if Adriane had been purposely avoiding Corey since that day, either. She just... they didn't run in the same circles, so she'd clung to her circle and he'd clung to his and until today, until this morning right now, they'd been able to exist in their separate bubbles without ever crossing. But now, with him taking the seat at the counter beside her. She knew he'd glanced over at her, but Adriane hadn't returned the glance.

Adriane plucked one of the coffees out of her tray and slid it over to Corey, but didn't bother glancing over at him. "For you," she said, her voice colder than it needed to be as she spoke. "Maddie told me your order."

She kept her gaze focused on Maddie, instead.

"So, do you want me to grab Gus and get out of here?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Cool Kids by Echosmith

Jace West

"Who am I to tell me who I am?"

Maybe dragging a drunk Callum to his sister's bedroom hadn't been the greatest ideas. Perhaps Jace should've just stepped over him and ran as far away as his thin little legs could manage in hopes that someone else would deal with Callum the toddler throwing his tantrum because "waaaaaaaaaaaa I want Oaaaaaattttteeeeesssss." Although others were more liable to give him a can of oats instead of what he actually desired.

Or, rather, who.

He kept whining for Oates so eventually, Jace had no choice but to whip out his phone and, with shaky fingers, start aggressively messaging the one, the only (because who else would name their child something so horribly ridiculous) Oates Oates. After several panicked texts to get his attention, Oates replied and after a bit of back and forth (and Oates so rudely not saying whether or not he was proud of Jace's beer pong game abilities -- jerk), Oates agreed to come up to the bedroom and take care of one Callum Richards... Richardson....? Something like that. One of those names where the nickname was Dick.

Hehe... Dick.

Oh wait, right, his friend.

"Oates is on his way, buddy," Jace said from where he was standing far away from the bed -- because as if Jace would risk getting any closer to Callum. What if Callum started feeling him up thinking he was the hotter, blonder, better version of Oates?

Okay, that was ridiculous.

Jace wasn't hotter or better.

He reached up, fumbling with the pirate hat on his head until finally, salvation came walking through the door with a cup of water. Jace's gaze followed after Oates as he walked through the bedroom and over to the bed, where he started talking to Callum. For a moment, Jace just watched in silence, wondering if he should do something or say something. Surely leaving his best friend this drunk with his ex-boyfriend was a horrendous idea.

... But then Oates said that he could leave and enjoy the rest of the party (pfft, as if -- Jace was getting out of here as quickly as he could), and....

Jace wasted no time.

"Alright, bye," he said with an awkward wave of his hand. "I'll I uhh... I'll uhh... text you umm... later or something... Callum... I--" he stopped abruptly, realizing that maybe he was intruding and he probably should just... head the heck out before he made things more awkward or worse or something. "I'm uhh... I'mma... just... okay, I uhh... bye..." and he gave another awkard wave of his hand before he turned and walked out the door.

Maybe leaving Callum and Oates in his sister's room was a bad idea. Like she'd probably be pissed if she found out, but...

Oh well, whatever. Callum had needed somewhere to lay down, and then he'd needed himself a healthy dose of Oates, and Jace being the greatest bestest best friend that had ever friended had successfully delievered both.

So, feeling on top of the world momentarily, Jace moved quickly through the mansion so he could head out and go home and probably fall into a fitful sleep where he had nightmares about ping pong balls smacking him in the eye.

| mentions: N/A | interactions: Callum, Oates | tags: hery mogy |

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@Fire&Ash has set their status to:
nonono

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

Her stomach dropped. She wanted to say "no, no we can't talk," because she was sure that this conversation would just be a rehashing of their previous argument and Ash didn't want to deal with that again. She didn't... she was tired. She was still mildly hungover, and after all of the fights, and the drunk babysitting, and the this and that and whatever from the previous night... she was just... Ash didn't have the energy to try and argue with Trevor about whatever the hell last night's argument had been -- an argument aths she still didn't understand the basis of.

Ash broke eye contact with him, her gaze going down to her hands that were still fumbling with the hem of her sweater. Now, she let go of the hem and instead clasped her hands together to try and stop the fidgeting. But that didn't do much and instead, her right thumb started brushing over the skin between her thumb and forefinger where a faint scar was visible if you squinted hard enough. Her teeth bit harder into her bottom lip.

Oh what... what had she done wrong to bring the conversation back around to this? It had been her response, right? Yeah, she should've just like said something that would've dismissed all of last night. Just a "oh, my morning has been great" or something like that. Pretended like Halloween had never even happened. Or, or, if she'd just like not even given him the chance to talk. Just started making out with him, and then they wouldn't be at this point. Like if his texts to her or his behavior were anything to go by, well... that would've distracted him and then bam, never have to discuss it.

They could've just ignored it.

Had a good day.

But nope, no. No, somehow she'd... brought it back to this and somehow, this was going to blow up.

She could feel it.

She was going to be sick.

Her stomach hurt. They'd been dating for one week and their second date was going to be ruined by her vomiting all over the couch or something -- but hey, at least that would like... you know... stop the flow of conversation so they wouldn't have to fight again.

"Yeah, we can... yeah, we can talk," she started, her gaze still focused on her fidgeting hands. Like anywhere was better than looking at Trevor's face right now. She couldn't meet his gaze, because she wasn't ready to face whatever she might see there. Like... the anger, the hate, whatever it might be, she didn't want to see, and her stomach was just starting to get more upset the more that she over worried about it.

"If it's about, like, last night, don't worry about it." Ash continued when she really should've just stopped talking, but she had a horrible habit of stammering -- especially stammering to try and avoid what she was positive would turn into a fight, even though her stammering was just as likely to lead to that very fight. But hey, Ash, in a somewhat panicked state, wasn't able to consider that clearly. "Like, I'm not... I'm not mad at you or upset or whatever about what happened last night. I mean it's just like, I mean... it... it's... like, fine, and you were like... right and drunk and it's fine."

If there had been anything in her stomach, Ash would've puked by now.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

[

i sold some tickets to come see my downfall
it sold out in minutes, i saw friends in the front row

M O O D : meetin' and greetin'

O U T F I T : casual (you could call it business casual. get it? ...i'll see myself out.)

L O C A T I O N : a (insert sparkles emoji) park (insert sparkles emoji)

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : slater, javi

T A G S : Winona

​

Patronization was Slater’s way of dotin', Felix was pretty sure. Even if it wasn’t, he’d grown used to it enough not to be offended. Different strokes for different folks, ya know, and Felix was used to being teased. He accepted his role as the “butt of the joke” and went on with it.

Felix was a simple guy, ya know; he preferred it to be simpler and easier for everyone, whether that meant just letting Damien talk to him this way or whatever else, ya know?

“I…is that right?” Felix asked, cocking his head at Slater’s comment on ants. He wasn’t as dumb as a lotta people took him for, and he just so happened to have a proclivity toward trivia books and game shows, but he’d never heard nothin’ like that fact about ants. He shuddered at the thought that the annoying little boogers had sticky feet— bugs grossed him out— but he made a note of it.

It was always nice to have random stuff stored in his head; he never knew when he’d suddenly get stopped on the street and asked a question “for a million dollars!”.

Hey, that might’ve sounded silly to you, but he’d seen those shows! Sure, they were staged a ton, but, hell, he’d be down for a castin’ call to fake like he was a random civilian or somethin’. They could just, uh…blur his face or somethin’, ya know? He could scribble on a ‘stache in Sharpie or somethin’, and no one would even know that it was him!

“You’re pity-buyin'?" he laughed slightly as his friend released him from his grip. “If you’re handin' out money ’s easy ’s that, then…” He held out his hand jokingly, wiggling his fingers. “…my palm’s open, ready for its healthy, hearty helpin' from the Slater Soup Kitchen.”

His ever-present crooked grin shone at his friend as he chuckled, and then his eyes followed Slater’s finger to where it pointed to.

“There’s my guy.”

Oh.

Felix let out a knowing chuckle.

That dude? Alrighty.

“Come on, bro,” said his companion, quickenin’ his pace as they approached the familiar face.

As Slater greeted the other boy, who had…uh, been standin' behind a tree, like one of those…cartoon villains or somethin’, and Felix watched them with his grin on his face.

Slater seemed to recall his presence, and he gave Javi an “oh, this is Felix. Felix, Javi”.

“Howdy,” Felix said, looking to Javi and giving a wave at his name.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Felix. What’s the relation with our dear Slutter? Friend, business associate, butt buddy…”

The hell was a butt buddy? Or did Felix really wanna know?

Felix let out a hearty laugh, takin’ the hand that Javi extended and givin’ it a firm shake before droppin’ his hand again. “Pleasure’s mine, Javier. Slater and I are friends, yeah,” he said, givin’ a nod and a grin. “We go way back.” He gave a soft chuckle. “And…hm, ya might know me, I dunno,” Felix said, answering his last question with a not-answer. “I don’t think we’ve ever met in person, at the least.”

Yeah, ya know, they’d met before online. This was the dude who didn’t know anythin’ about doin’ a good job with grand theft auto.

Huh. Small world, huh?

“Just got back from a filmin' myself. Just wanted to come along with my buddy to…see some of the fresh meat,” he teased lightly, grinnin’ at Javi and givin’ a soft chuckle. “Nice to meet ya, bud.”

He addressed him casually, as if they were already friends.

It was just the way that Felix was.

felix rian emmerson

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