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

[mogy]

Oates Oates
" podcasts, amirite? "

@bigO has set their status to:
kian, dont get hurt please

@bigO has set their outfit to:
jeans, shirt, jacket


@bigO has set their location to:
park

@bigO has interacted with:
kian

mogy has mentioned:
geminiy

Kissing one's hand—a chivalrous act indeed, but almost unquestionably not one Kian would've done had he known all of the dark places the fingers that met his lips had been in. The warmth of Kian's lips, in contrast, left a pulsating scorch mark of sensation on Oates's hand, leaving him just standing there, astounded at the overflowing amount of unexpected stimuli happening around him.

Everything had been normal, but just the fact that Oates knew what he had to do and how the smile from Kian's face would, without a doubt, perish because of him...it would've been a lot for anybody, let alone him, the one person who cried after seeing Boss Baby.

Without thinking of Boss Baby (very important detail, thank you), he followed as Kian gestured for him to sit, a smile on his face not obviously one of sour nature. The spread of food on the picnic blanket that equaled to quite literally all of Oates' favorites, the undeniable thought and dedication to it, and, ultimately, the sunlight gently falling onto the scene... This had been everything Oates wanted and all that he needed to be truly happy at this moment of his life. He would've been lying to himself if he tried to do so little as deny that fact—though an even worse part of the whole thing was his unfortunate awareness of it. The gesture of a picnic itself was unique and simple, incredibly romantic though simply comfortable, and it would've been perfect if it hadn't been hidden behind the unbreakable veil that was Callum and the promise Oates made to him.

He was stuck. Stuck on this side of the veil, with Callum, while Kian, the boy who knew all of his hopes and dreams, the boy who wanted to help Oates fulfill them, was waiting on the other side, still not aware of the boundary that separated the two of them. And while the boy in front of him acted as if this thing that once was could work again, it felt like Oates went back to last night, when he was free of having to care for Callum's feelings and could solely focus on his own.

It was a fantasy Oates could've enjoyed just a little bit longer, but it wouldn't have been fair, and he knew that. For Christ's sake, it was so obvious that the lady on the bench next to the two knew that; even the freaking ducks in the pond not far away knew that. And, of course, Kian would soon come to learn of that—the only thing left for that to happen was Oates actually saying it; out loud: the words actually leaving his lips and entering Kian's ears, probably hurting the boy a lot.

"Uh..." Oates interrupted, the sour smile previously mentioned slowly starting to show off its true essence. "So, I don't want to make this any more painful than it needs to be because I know that if I keep talking, it will be, and I just want you to not feel bad, which you will because I know you and... and now I'm rambling, aren't I? Darn. Wait." He closed his eyes focusing solely on forming sentences that would make for the least amount of pain without going on a long endless tangent. His fingers intertwined as he continued to speak. "This. The thing that happened yesterday and what you made this beautiful picnic for... it can't happen." It was like taking candy from a baby, except you don't actually want to do it and the baby is your ex of 2 years. Talk about crazy. "I'm sorry, Kian."

º º code by dildo º º

 

[Xed]

Good old California sunshine. Dalton sighed as he rolled his suitcase out of the building and took a breath of fresh air. He was back in LA after what was it, a few weeks? He'd lost track. What would be the appropriate reaction here now that he had returned? Finally? At last? I'm back? Get me back out of here? Fuck. He did not want to be here. Hawaii was so much better. Would it have hurt them to make the shoot have been longer? Well, he was nit-picking cause the job had been a long one this time around, it was part of what had made it so attractive. At least in Hawaii, he was able to catch some waves or sneak in some time in the water in between breaks for the shoot. Plus, he was getting paid and kept away from all the rubbish that happened at Hollywood Arts, not to mention his 'lovely family'.

Hollywood Arts.

Dalton shook his head at the thought of his home for the last three coming to four years? It was wild, but not all bad. He didn't mind what happened at the school most of the time, to be precise he didn't really care. There definitely were moments and people who annoyed him and got on his nerves though. Not having to deal with all that while he was in Hawaii was amazing. Too bad his stay there was only temporary not permanent and he had to return.

He popped his suitcase into the trunk of his waiting car hire and hopped into the backseat, stretching out his long legs and giving his shoulders a roll as he made himself comfortable. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his messages, passing over the endless, unanswered texts from his parents with a frown. Dalton was used to them asking how he was doing and if he was okay, playing the role of parents with such gusto, but the amount of messages had rapidly increased over the past few weeks and he was in no mood to entertain them and play the role of the good son. Besides at this point they knew that nice or good behaviour was the last thing they should expect from him. His ignoring of their messages was par for course and it wouldn't hurt anyone if he continued to ignore them a little longer before sending the obligatory "I'm good" message. Just a couple more months now, once he graduated from H.A. he could leave this town and settle somewhere further from his 'parents' and that runt they raised at home. No more having to return home over the school holidays, less calls, less interaction, exactly what he wanted. He just had to finish these last two semesters but at least they wouldn't be a complete pain.

Unfortunately there were still plenty of students who were so sensitive you'd think that just hearing something harsh every once in a while would kill them, but at least not all of them were like that and some of the okay ones were in his department like Adriane and Mike. He flicked through his phone and dropped the former a message as he glanced out the window to check his location.

'Landed and cabbed. Will be there in 10.'

It would have been great if he could have flown in on Sunday night or Monday morning but the scheduled flight brought him back earlier and so he had time to kill and he wasn't going to spend all of it settling into his new place. At least Adriane wasn't going to get all sensitive cause his words were a little cutting or ask prying questions. He needed to know what he was coming back to anyways. Not that he really cared about the affairs of the other students, but staying up to date had its uses and he had been gone for a while. Hollywood Arts was anything but drama free so it wouldn't be the least bit surprising if the school had basically changed seasons while he was away and he wasn't interested into walking into winter while still dressed for summer. He already knew there was a weird new kid who probably wouldn't be able to tell you left from right even if you shoved neon signs in his face and yes, once again he was the jackass for telling the kid what everyone else ought to be telling him which was to go home and stay there. Still now that he had that bet with Fox going, if the kid was going to leave, he couldn't do it in his first week. After that whether he stayed or left, he couldn't care less, but until that week ended he wasn't letting the kid leave, there was no way he was going to owe Fox a favour because the kid wussed out or woke up to reality too early. Other than that, everything else seemed as per usual…so far. He was going to need Adriane to fill in the gaps.

The cab pulled to a stop outside bitch manor and the cab driver raced off once Dalton had paid the fair and gotten his thing. The guy must have instinctively sensed the overwhelming bitchiness of the place and its residents. That was the one other good thing about Hollywood Arts. He was still considered a jackass there but at least he wasn't the only one. Suitcase in one hand and bag slung over his shoulder, he waltzed inside and took the lift up to the apartment floor. It'd be nice if the other two weren't around, normally he'd be fine but at the moment he didn't really have the energy to entertain Chas and JJ as well, nor was he really in the mood.

Dalton let himself into the apartment, parking his suitcase in the corner and dropping his bag on the couch as he walked around to join it. "Package delivery of one Hawaiian sun kissed asshole for a Miss Adriane Holloway." He called out as he plopped down on the couch and opened his bag, pulling out a brand new makeup kit one of the staff had gifted him during the shoot. Sharing wasn't his thing but he wasn't really going to use it and he didn't like clutter and mess, certainly didn't need it in his new place so he was dumping it off here where he could get rid of it and not have to deal with the possibility of his actions being misinterpreted and misconstrued.

When Adriane appeared, he gestured to the makeup kit as he leaned back in his seat. "I brought a bribe in exchange for information and a free pass from being kicked out by JJ or His Chasness."

Dalton Kirby

mood:
Take me back to Hawaii

outfit:
blue t-shirt and jeans with sneakers

location:
Bitch Manor

mentions:
Mike, Adriane, Chas, JJ, Avery, Lydia

interactions:
Adriane

tags:
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

[

So look me in the eyes
Tell me what you see

M O O D : frustrated

O U T F I T : fit

L O C A T I O N : jace's

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

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

T A G S : Winona

​

At least that hadn’t changed.

However weird things were between them, he knew that music would be a subject Jace wouldn’t shy away from. A tactic Landon had used several times to smooth things over when he and Jace had fought over the years or when he needed time to think. He didn’t get it. Music, it turned out, was not his forte.

Every teenage boy dreamed of being a rockstar. Landon was no different. And had his parents, Evie, Jace, Stella and Nate all tell him he had the voice of a cat being strangled underwater? Yes. They did. Did it crush his dreams of starting a band? Yes. Did that stop him from rocking out in his car? Or the shower? Or at karaoke one night in Vancouver?

It did not.

He had made peace with it and came out of that realization reasonably unscathed. If you don’t count the one time he attempted to play one of Jace’s guitars. He just wanted to rock out...but it cost him a few hundred dollars, his friend looking like he was going to shit himself every time he was around his stuff and a promise that he’d never touch another musical instrument again.

Hey! He couldn’t be great at EVERYTHING.

He nodded as he leaned back. A silent ‘yes’ to Jace-- reassuring him that he, in fact, wanted to listen to him play. Music was Jace’s happy place. Despite his mother’s over-excessively harsh criticisms, his friend always seemed to rise to the occasion...or at least he didn’t mind picking up and starting from scratch because he was an artist. That’s what artist’s did.

And while Jace’s music wasn’t his particular cup of tea, he enjoyed it because it was art. Much like enjoying another person’s performance in a film. So many people just assumed that Landon acted because he was a pretty face and had famous parents.

He acted because he loved it. Not the fame or the money. Okay, not just the fame or the money, but it was the rush he got when he knew he nailed a scene. When he was able to bring words to life and evoke emotions.

That was his happy place.

He took a sip of his tea as he half-listened to the beat. He had wanted to hear him play. He did...but it was more about filling the awkward silence the only way he knew how. To help Landon figure out how they navigated this friendship now that he was back.

He needed a beat. And Jace playing gave him much needed time to think. Though it wasn’t nearly long enough. A smirk grew on his face as the other boy explained the process and the fact that he was probably going to scrap what he just played. He rolled his eyes and chuckled. What was the point of him playing for him then?

"Sorry about the mess," he added quickly. "I'm uhh... I was going to clean up, but I kinda forgot you were coming over..."

He took a deep breath.

It was nice while it lasted. “Well, it’s not like I gave you a heads up. Figured since you hadn’t returned my texts or phone calls, an ambush was in order.” He said as he sat up straight again and set his tea on the floor. He rubbed his knees awkwardly, knowing that Jace didn’t handle conversations like this well.

"It's cause of the kiss, right?" He blurted out. Straight and to the point. There was no use trying to sugarcoat it. Jace was going to react the same either way.

LANDON SINCLAIRE

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Casey Clairmont
"Don't stop doin' what you're doin'."

@basketcase has set their status to:
buzz

@basketcase has interacted with:
Chas

@basketcase has mentioned:
Chanel, Camille

@baseketcase has tagged:
hery ​

Had you ever seen anyone more perfect than the Priscilla Marino?

No?

Yeah, Casey didn't think so.

He glanced in Chas' direction as his buddy flexed about his teeth, including the brand new one that was replacing the gap in his mouth. Casey wondered if he had a removable plastic tooth now or if that was his actual tooth. What if half of it was stuck up inside of his mouth and they'd just superglued it onto the fractured bit?

So many unanswered questions that the curious blonde wanted to ask, but no words found his tongue as he stared up at Priscilla. And yes, he did his best to focus on her face, but his gaze kept drifting down... only to then snap back to her face, and then inevitably fall again. Look, sue him, whatever, but he was a teenage boy and she was hot and it wasn't like he was around a particularly large amount of girls.

No, his sisters didn't count.

Every word that fell from her lips, even if they weren't something he particularly cared about, was like music to his ears, though. Heck, Casey was willing to bet that if Priscilla had tried to teach him biology, he actually would've picked up on it.

The gorgeous, most beautiful woman in the world was rudely cut off by Chas rather rudely reminding her that Casey was only seventeen. He cast a glare over at Chas -- a kind of dude, what the heck? type of look that was drawing his eyebrows together because, well, dude, what the heck? He was basically eighteen -- and he was so much more mature than half the kids his age.

Like, did they carry around lighters? Were they ready for anything that might come at them?

No?

Yeah, Casey didn't think so. That's because they just weren't as prepared as he was in case he, like... got stuck in the woods or something overnight and had to make himself a fire. Or if a rabid wolf tried to attack him and he needed a fire stick. Or you know, if it was like "oh my god, this man is dying and we need fire for this very specific thing" and then Casey could whip out one of his lighters and be the hero no one expected.

Yeah... Casey kind of had a two-track mind: boobs and fire.

"That means your sisters are seventeen too, right? No boy trouble with them, I hope. I know how it was when I was in high school."

For a moment, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and his general like... being under her spell thing kind of fell apart when she mentioned his sisters and the smile on Casey's face faltered because he hadn't thought about that. They were at high school, which meant that there would be boys, and for a moment, a little hint of protective brotherly fire flickered in his chest, but that was pinched out just as rapidly as it had flickered to life when she leaned in close to him.

Oh god oh god oh god.

"I must confess, though, you were always my favorite. Thanks for keeping my little baby brother Chassy company."

Right here would've been the perfect opportunity to, ya know, speak up, but Casey was giggling like a dumb school girl instead with the dumbest, goofiest grin on his face as he looked up at Priscilla.

He was her favorite?

Hehe... he...

The only thing that could potentially pull Casey out of his little reverie was, apparently, mentioning the fact that he was going to have to start watching boys around his sisters now (ugh, he was so bad at the whole grr brother act), and, of course, one of his fears becoming a potential reality.

"Oh my god, you guys, Stefano's lavender albino ball python just got out of his terrarium!" Chas said and Casey was snapped out of the spell he had been put under by one Priscilla Marino. "That thing is worth tens of thousands and is super, super giant. We should go outside while the housekeepers go catch her!"

And then Chas was grabbing his hand and pulling Casey from his chair with little to no resistance. Snakes had always given Casey the creeps. You know, made his skin crawl, made him shiver, so he was already halfway out of his seat when Chas had grabbed his hand and started dragging him off.

Hell, Casey was so eager to get out of the house and the potential snake that he forgot all about Priscilla. He was every man for himself in that moment, you know. She could be eaten by the albino python for all Casey really cared at the moment -- Casey wasn't about to become that snake's dinner, however.

Once they'd stumbled their way outside (or, well, Casey had stumbled -- Chas was way too dignified for stumbling), Chas let go of him and Casey let his gaze travel around the fancy backyard. Wow. It was an impressive backyard -- he'd give the Marinos that much. Sure, their family home had a backyard, but nothing like this. Their parents hadn't exactly seen the point of putting a bunch of money into a nice place with a nice yard when they were only home for maybe a couple of months out of the entire year. The bus was their home and unfortunately, travel buses didn't come with pull along cool backyards.

"So, Mr. Clairmont," Chas started, and Casey glanced back over at him. "I-is your aunt in town too? I'm sure my mother would love to get dinner with her again. She still... making music?"

Casey, in his endless... well, he wasn't the greatest at reading people, so he didn't pick up on any signs of Chas having lost his cool resulting from the entire debacle that had just gone on inside with Priscilla.

He let out a chuckle, a lopsided grin settling on his face as he turned his pale blue eyes onto Chas. "No, no, Aunt Zoe isn't really into music. She's got a couple movies coming out, though, I'm pretty sure," he said, one hand absently rubbing at his chin. "She's been pretty busy with filming, but... I'm sure she'd love to come by for dinner sometime. I'll talk to Chanel 'bout it and have her ask -- she'll do just 'bout anything that Nell asks." He explained with a chuckle, his hand falling to his slide before both hands lazily slid into the pockets of his jeans. His right hand brushed against his emergency lighter, and he started absently rubbing his fingers over its smooth surface.

"I know you wanted to talk 'bout the whole interview thing today, right?" Casey continued, letting out another easy-going chuckle. "But don't worry about it, alright? I've been doing this since I was practically in diapers -- I know what to say to make it all sound good." He said and took a couple steps towards Chas, his left hand coming out of his pocket to reach out and pat Chas on the shoulder with a pitiful look. "Buddy, you've really gotta learn how to loosen up and just go with the flow. You're gonna have stress marks or somethin' on your face before you're twenty if you keep worrying 'bout everything like this."

He laughed again, his hand dropping away from Chas' shoulder.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Avery wrung his hands as he sat in the backseat of the car. A part of him still couldn't quite believe that this was happening. He was really going to school. His parents were letting him leave. Granted it hadn't been easy or pretty and a part of him still felt guilty for how it all went down, but he really wanted to go. Hopefully his parents wouldn't worry too much and his mom was no longer hurt by what he had said. He didn't mean to make her cry when he told her how lonely he had felt growing up and how badly he wanted to go out and make friends without them watching his every move or having bodyguards flank him from every side. Now after three years of asking and begging, he had his chance and he really hoped he didn't mess it up - hadn't already mess it up, on the twitter. The people all seemed really nice though and he was excited to finally meet some of them, to begin his school life. A normal life. His gaze shifted from the phone on his lap to the passing scenery outside. Would he be able to fit in? Would they think it was strange that he was a freshman even though he was 16? He had read that most high school freshman were 14 or 15. His parents had wanted him to enter Hollywood Arts as a freshman even though age wise he was a sophomore, and he hadn't objected because he was happy at the thought of being able to spend an extra year in school around other people. But what if the other people thought he was weird and shunned him like a character in one of the books he read? He hoped he would fit in. He didn't want to be all alone again. The loneliness had been hard. It was still hard, and he was scared of the possibility that they all wanted nothing to do with him. But he didn't want to spend the rest of his life alone in his parents penthouse with only books, shows and his imagination for company. He wanted to explore the outside world. To discover things, make friends, live the life he hadn't been able to live since the day he got shot.

He glanced down at his notebook which lay open on his lap covered in the frantic scribbles he had made while trying to keep up with conversations in the chat. He'd really had to rush cause everything was going so fast and he had so many questions he wanted to ask about all the things that were being said and terms that were being used. It was hard over the chat, hopefully it would be easier in person when he could actually hear their voice and see their faces. He was especially excited about the orgy and he hoped it was still happening. He had never participated in a game like that with so many people before and he was going to get to learn about something new while he was at it too! With luck and studying his clumsiness wouldn't rear its head and he wouldn't mess up the rules and ruin the game. That would just be the worst.

He ran his finger over his notes again as he scrolled through the chat with his other hand, eyes flicking back and forth between the two. He hoped he didn't miss anything. He didn't want to make a mistake early on and upset people like calling Beel "Tweedle dee skinny dumbass" when that was Callum's nickname. He was glad the other nicknames he'd heard so far were shorter. He didn't want to be that one kid flipping through his notes for names when everyone else remembered them off the top of their head.

"We've arrived." On hearing his bodyguard's words, Avery snapped his notebook shut and looked outside, eyes going wide as he took in the sight of the sprawling campus. It was incredible… Exploring it was going to be amazing, he was thankful his parents agreed to let him have the full experience and stay on campus instead of commuting from home. They had wanted to come and drop him off themselves but work commitments had gotten in the way and so it was just him, his bodyguard Gordon and the chauffeur.

Gordon, opened the door for him to alight while the chauffeur pulled his bags from the trunk. It felt a little odd knowing that he wouldn't be seeing their familiar faces that often anymore now that he was staying on campus but the thought of living the life he had long dreamed of excited him. He'd known for a while that this was happening but now that he was actually standing there about to move into his dorm room, his little heart wouldn't stop throbbing from excitement and anticipation. This was really happening.

Once the last of his bags were retrieved from the trunk, Avery made his way inside backpack on his shoulders, Gordon following closely behind with his luggage. He remembered reading that his room was on the 4th floor and pulled out the small guide he had folded and tucked into his pocket. His roommate was a sophomore named Zephyr Evermore. He hadn't been able to talk to him much on twitter but he seemed like a nice guy, in fact they all did. They had answered all his questions and agreed to teach him things even though some of them seemed to get a little annoyed at times. Hopefully he could make amends with them in person if he had really upset them with his questions. He didn't mean to make anyone angry or mad, he was just so curious and eager to know more.

The campus was large and directions really weren't his thing but thankfully Gordon was better with them than he was and guided him fairly quickly to his dorm room on the 4th floor. His roommate didn't seem to be around which was a bit unfortunate. Avery had been hoping to introduce himself and hopefully get a little help getting acquainted with the campus. He really wanted to explore the campus but his sense of direction was awful and he didn't want to get lost and worry his parents on the first day. He was already a little uneasy about his inability to find the list they had given him earlier in the car and hoped he would find it in one of his bags when he unpacked later. He hadn't read through everything on it yet and he didn't want to disappoint them after they had finally relented and granted his wish to study at H.A.

"I'll be okay now Gordon, I can settle the rest of the unpacking by myself." Avery told him with a smile. Gordon rarely smiled and he was slightly intimidating with his imposing figure and stare, but he was nice. He had listened to Avery often over the years, even if he never really responded to what Avery said or answered his questions. After today, Gordon would likely find another job since he wouldn't be having a personal bodyguard on campus grounds so he might never see him again. He swallowed, drawing some courage from that last bit of knowledge and wrapped his arms around the man who had help look after him and keep him safe for the past 10 years. "Thank you for everything Gordon, I'll really miss you."

The man seemed to stiffen under his hug at first but eventually relaxed, he didn't return the hug, nor did his face bear a smile when Avery pulled back, but when the man spoke, his voice sounded a hint less gruff than usual. "Take care of yourself." Giving him a short nod, Gordon exited the room, leaving Avery on his own. Gordon had helped him with most of the heavy stuff and big items, leaving only the smaller bags for Avery to unpack. He went through the bags quickly pulling out items like his favourite movies, books, notebooks, snacks and his camera. His eyes lit up as he held the device in his hand. He had so many things he wanted to take pictures of, starting with his room and then the rest of the campus and the city. Just the thought of filling it up with pictures and memories made his heart soar-

CRASH!

The loud sound coming from outside his room door startled Avery and the camera jumped out of his grasp. He let out a cry as he tried to juggle it to safety but failed to keep it from hitting the floor with a small thud of its own. Please don't be broken, Avery prayed as he picked it up and assessed it for damage, heaving a sigh of relief when it still worked. He was glad it was okay despite his clumsiness, though speaking of okay, whatever caused that loud sound outside was definitely not okay.

Making his way over to the door, Avery opened it to see two girls moving about trying to gather belongings that had spilled across the floor. He snapped straight into action, bending down to pick up the items closest to him and slowly worked his way around until he had a decent amount in his hand and found himself next to the two girls who had been gathering them up. He shifted himself slightly under the weight of the items as he looked down at them. He swallowed a little as some nervousness hit him. This was going to be his first interaction at his new school and without his parents or bodyguards around. He hoped he didn't mess this up. "Are you both alright?" He asked, his voice soft-spoken as always, as he did his best to try and keep his clumsiness from making an appearance.

Avery Ohtani

mood:
Excited but nervous

outfit:
White sweater and trousers

location:
Hollywood arts dorms

mentions:
Beel, Callum, Zeph

interactions:
Bella and Kellian

tags:
geminiy ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@zeph.evermore has set their status to:
preparing for a life of crime

@zeph.evermore has interacted with:
Lin, Angel

@zeph.evermore has mentioned:
N/A

@zeph.evermore has tagged:
ohdittoh hery ​

With every harsh utterance of the word lameass from Lin's mouth, Zeph felt himself wince. Sure, the insult wasn't directed at him, but that didn't mean he didn't cringe from second hand embarrassment of being associated with the guy that was speaking it, or because he felt an ounce of sympathy for Angel. Granted, he wasn't really close with Angel or would even necessarily consider them friends, but he did know the other boy -- at least to an extent -- and he didn't think Angel deserved to be called a lameass for just doing his job. Or at all.

It was mean -- and if we'd learned anything about Zeph, it was that the dumb boy didn't have a single ounce of cruelty in his body.

(Unless he was talking to Mike, but even then his insults fell flat and look it was Mike -- did he even really count?)

And then Angel looked towards him, saying that he didn't seem like the type to...

What? Steal? Commit a crime?

His morale compass was quivering.

Zeph wasn't the type to do this -- and he had half a mind to come out and say that. Say that he wouldn't be caught dead doing anything close to shoplifting or anything else that could be considered illegal or a crime. He was a good kid. A model student. He got good grades, he kept his nose out of trouble, he excelled in his chosen craft. Zeph was the kind of guy that you'd bring home to introduce to your parents, and they'd sigh in relief that their kid had a good influence. Zeph was basic the poster boy for good behavior and good... boy... ness.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but you got the gist.

Zeph didn't step outside of the lines.

But if he were to say that he wouldn't be caught dead doing this, that he wasn't the type to do something as silly as shoplift when Angel had caught the two of them red-handed -- and freaking Lin had just decided to gloat about what they were apparently doing and that he definitely hadn't made clear to Zeph that he was intending to do -- then he would just be lying. Or come across as if he was lying, and Zeph wasn't a liar, either.

It was a morale conundrum.

He wanted to shove his head into the ground, bury it in a hole like an ostrich or something so that he could avoid this conundrum.

"Uh, anyway, Lin, I wanted to ask you about something privately," Angel continued, "It's kind of... personal stuff, if you don't mind... You can, um, stand over there if you want." Angel said, pointing further down the aisle.

Oh.

Well, it wasn't like Zeph was offended by Angel asking this or anything -- seriously. That wasn't sarcasm. He really could care less one way or another, and getting to break away from Lin for a bit while he was... you know, in such a morale conundrum honestly wasn't the worst of ideas. As in, he was thrilled for the chance to take a step back and go over what exactly had brought him to be in this predicament in the first place.

A little self-reflection never hurt anyone.

"I think you'd rather be, like, alone for this..." he advised to Lin, "Sorry, Zeph."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Zeph said as he started to back away down the aisle. Naturally, he pointed towards Lin and Angel in not at all awkward finger guns, a half-hearted smile on his face. "I'll just uhh... be over... there..." he said and jutted his thumb in the direction of the next aisle over. "Whenever you're... done... with this... yeah, okay."

And then he turned around and hurried back out of the toy aisle and into the next aisle over which was...

Cleaning supplies.

He peered curiously at the bottles of cleaning supplies, trying to lose himself in which toilet bowl cleaner was the best and desperately trying to quell the sense of panic that had overcome him when he realized that he was having a hand in...

Stealing.

He shuddered at the thought.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

Lin rolled his eyes with a scoff and a soft chuckle.

Get a load of this motherfucker.

“Yew cowld get in a wot of twouble,” Lin mimicked in a baby voice, looking at Zeph and crossing his arms, “and I cowld get in a wot of twouble.” He snickered. He gestured at Angel. “You hear him?" He dropped his gesturing hand, trailing his eyes over to Angel. "Bitch, huh?”

Who cared who was the type to do what? Zeph was turning over a newer, cooler leaf, and Angel needed to keep his big fucking mouth closed. He sounded like a whiny, squalling baby, and you know what whiny, squalling babies got? Baby bottles.

Angy just needed some titty milk. Then he’d shut the hell up, luhmao.

“Sixteen? Yeah, Pricky didn’t say anything about that. Must not have been that important, I guess.” Lin heaved a shrug and gave a quick, mocking laugh. He tucked his shoulder in, lowering his neck and his voice to a near mutter. “Working…not long,” he mimicked Angel’s words in an exaggeratedly squeaky way, and then he burst into his loud laughter again, dropping his posture.

And then…fucking God, it was so rich—

Y’know, Angel Cervantes was such a fuckin’ loser, luhmao. Bed-wetter. Definitely drooled a ton in his sleep like a little biiiitch. Cried when they watched Finding Nemo. Fuckin’ loser. Big ass head, too. Like a little bitty baby baby.

And he had the audacity to be like “oh, Lin, I’ve got something to ask you” and to be like “bye bye, Zeph”?

What an overstepping fucking lameass.

Lin let out a scoff before he could catch it, rolling his eyes again. “The hell are you asking him to do that for?” he laughed, a grin still on his face, though his brows were knit low and the vitriolic contempt that Lin held from Angel came out in his harsh tone. His eyes went to Angel. “Personal stuff? Like what? You want me to give you a suggestion for a cozier brand of diapies? I bet I could look up a coupon for Pampers really fast, Bargain Bin Bitch.” He half-raised his middle finger, and then looked down at his fist. “Whoooops. Sorry, he has a mind of his own, luhmaooo.” He brought his other hand to cover it, and he snickered.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Zeph said, and Lin looked over at his friend as the big guy started to back away down the aisle. He gave them finger guns and an awkward smile, and Lin gave an exasperated huff. "I'll just, uhh...be over...there…” He jabbed his thumb at the next aisle. "Whenever you're...done...with this…yeah, okay."

C’mon! He really gave up that easy?

Lin really had a ton to teach him.

Next lesson: don’t bow to bitch boys who still suck on Dora-themed pacifiers.

Lin looked over to Angel. Now, the two boys were alone, which didn’t really happen often anymore— and never lasted long at all.

Eh, it wasn’t like Lin couldn’t walk away now. ‘Cuz, like…what could Angel really have to say? Fowgive Wicky, like he always begged? Wicky isn’t aww dat bad, wet’s be fweinds again? Literally, he could go wet himself up in a swimming pool and cozy up to a live wire, luhmao. He needed to fuck off with that shit.

“Whaddoya want?” Lin asked, grin fading from his face. He really fucking hated him, luhmao. “You come to nag me about my dad again? Beg my forgiveness? Ask me out to the pizza place again? I don’t wanna talk to you, luhmao. We’re not buddies anymore. You fucked that up when you decided to stick your nose up between Pricky’s asscheeks, luhmao.” He rolled his tongue around the inside of his cheek with a sigh and a snicker, crossing his arms and putting his weight on one hip. “Spit it out. If it’s some dumb shit, then I’m outta here.”

mood
titty baby lmao

location
tha dolla storeeeeeee

outfit
spot the drip lmao

playing...
tongue tied

by grouplove​

mentions
n/a

interactions
zephy and angy

tags
Winona hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
stay calm, man, it's just oates

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
"I couldn't find the pink button-down"

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the park

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Alex & Callum

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Oates

@lockandkian has tagged:
mogy

From the moment Oates sat down across from him on the blanket, Kian knew something was off. He had known Oates too long to not be able to notice the worried creases in his face or his inability to hold eye contact, surefire signs that the boy had something he wasn’t telling Kian. His stomach sank but he forced the smile to remain on his face, acting completely and blissfully unaware that any horrible news would be coming his way.

Kian shoved every instinct he had bubbling to the surface deep down within him. He couldn’t ask Oates what was wrong, he couldn’t let on that he was aware that everything that was shiny and beautiful was not as it seemed. With each passing second, the comfort of the situation began to drain as the reality of the situation began to set in.

"Uh..."

Kian’s entire upper body stiffened at the start of Oates’ sentence, his hands retreating into the pockets of his jacket as his molars gnawed anxiously on the inside of his cheek. This conversation was not foreign to Kian, he knew the following words very well. How easily would Oates let him down?

"So, I don't want to make this any more painful than it needs to be because I know that if I keep talking, it will be, and I just want you to not feel bad, which you will because I know you and... and now I'm rambling, aren't I? Darn. Wait."

Ah yes, the nervous ramble, one of Kian’s personal favourite moves. He never meant to do it on purpose, the boy simply had a habit of talking until he was blue in the face when he was nervous. Kian had learned that habit from many long, anxious conversations with Oates over the years. Maybe this was some sort of karma for what had transpired between Kian and Alex, for all of his shitty behaviour over the years. If that was the case, and Kian wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t, then he fucking deserved everything Oates was about to say.

"This. The thing that happened yesterday and what you made this beautiful picnic for... it can't happen. I'm sorry, Kian."

Realistically, this is what he had been expecting. After all, he hadn’t anticipated that Oates would’ve waited for him all those years. Kian hadn’t either. But the people over the years, everyone he had gotten close with, he had fucked it all up. And at the end of the day, none of those relationships he used to fill the void compared to what he had with Oates. But, even though Kian knew he would never have another relationship like he had with Oates, he understood why this was happening. Oates didn’t owe him anything.

“I…”

Fuck. He genuinely couldn’t speak.

“Oates, I…”

Kian’s face visibly cringed at his own pathetic stammering as his mind raced to create a coherent sentence. He knew this was coming, he had expected it since he arrived in Los Angeles, so why the fuck did it hurt so bad? Normally, Kian would’ve just said what he was feeling. He’d talk about the confusion, he’d be open about the pain. Kian was never one to shy away from his feelings but, for the first time ever, he simply couldn’t talk. There was nothing to say that would fix the situation, no band aid solution that would take away the hurt.

“I shouldn’t have done this.” Kian muttered to himself, a sad smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “I overstepped, crossed some boundary that I shouldn’t have. You’ve moved on… I understand.”

No, he really didn’t understand. Kian didn’t understand anything about the situation. He didn’t understand why he had been so fucking delusional to think that he and Oates could’ve gotten back together. He didn’t understand how there had been so much chemistry the night before if there was someone else. He didn’t understand why Oates showed up just to break off whatever they had going on. It was true that Kian hadn’t exactly given him much of a chance to talk the night before but would it have not been easier just to cancel on him? He didn’t understand how Callum, who Kian was certain was not a good person in their limited conversations together, had managed to win someone so out of his league over even though it seemed like he only caused Oates uncertainty and pain. Most importantly, Kian didn’t understand why he, himself, was so fucking selfish to think that Oates didn’t have the right to do any of that.

Kian had fallen silent while he thought, his eyes studying Oates’ face. So that was it. No more uncertainty, no more open ends, no more what-ifs. They were done. Completely over. The hopes of getting back with a person he could only dream of was gone.

“Oates…” Kian sighed, holding his breath slightly at the end before speaking again. “Tell me about him. Callum, I mean. He makes you happy. I want to know about the person who makes you happy.”

Perhaps asking about Callum was adding insult to injury. Hearing Oates talk about someone else the way Kian had wanted to hear him talk about himself would hurt like hell. But at the end of the day, Kian loved Oates. He always would. And no matter how much it hurt, Kian needed Oates to know that he’d be there for him forever and always.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@genjohanne has set their status to:
in the zone

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
casual vibes

@genjohanne has set their location to:
the studio

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Jared

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Mike

@genjohanne has tagged:
ohdittoh

“Right to business then.” Gen spoke confidently, a mischievous smile pulling on her lips as she nodded to a room in the corner. “Come on, it’ll be easier to show you.”

Taking off like a bullet from a gun, Gen made her way across the main room and shoved the large glass doors open with her hip. A rack of stark white clothing hung gracefully from a rack against the back wall, diagrams and computers spread haphazardly across the long table in the middle of the room. Moving some of the boxes out of the way, Gen began typing away at one of the open computers.

“Okay so this idea is something I’ve been working on for a while. It isn’t exactly typical but I think working outside what we typically do will be interesting.” Gen explained, biting at her lower lip as she connected the laptop to the display screen on the furthest wall. Images of elegant white suits and long white ball gowns graced the screen, various different aspects to both outfits changing to become projection surfaces.

“We all know I’m a lover of fine things. And with you and Jared working with me as well, it would be a shame not to put the feeling of power we have as a collective to good use.” Gen explained, rotating the image so that the back of the dress and the suit displayed matching images of a very modern looking royal couple. “I was originally thinking we’d have multiple sets of more modernesque royal type clothing. You know, displaying the different kinds of power there is. But we’re limited for time during the performance, especially not enough time to completely switch outfits over and over again.”

Turning to the rack behind her, Gen started pulling various outfits, some coloured and some completely white, and laid them on the table.

“So, my thought process is this. We do a shoot beforehand in the outfits that would’ve been on the runway. We can edit them to be projected onto the clothing in very specific parts of the stage. We all have experience on the runway so I figured that it wouldn’t be too difficult to figure it out.” Gen explained, flipping the image to that of a runway with areas marked out for small projection sites. “What we would do would be to create these outfits and specific scenes outside of the performance date. The three of us would take videos and pictures of these scenes and edit them to be projected onto these outfits. That way we can display all these different ideas into one cohesive piece. We’ll have a display of our talents in the photo studio as well as on the runway due to the technical precision needed for the projections to be done correctly.”

Grabbing a long cape off the rack, Gen gracefully threw it over her shoulders and fastened it across her chest. Flicking on one of the table projectors, Gen lined herself up with a marking on the floor and turned around so that the white cape fluttered smoothly down her back. Being in the perfect position, the image displayed across the cape changed from a normal image to one that captured the entire length of the cape. The thick white edges transformed to chains of gold draping down the side of the fabric, animated plumes of smoke giving way to a photo of Gen and another model draped in fiery red outfits. Animations connected the two, the photo seeming to come to life as Gen and the other model seemed to step out of the flames.

“See? Pretty cool, huh? It takes a lot of work but I think we can actually do really well on this. Of course the timing has to be perfect and we definitely can’t fuck up the photos but I trust we won’t fail.” Gen spoke as she turned around, the illusion fading as the projection fell onto the wall behind her before turning off entirely with a flick of her finger. “What do you think? It’s daring, bold. I don’t like working within the conventional and I assume someone with your talents doesn’t like to either.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

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

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

She...

Yeah, no, Ash didn't even entirely know what she was thinking in this moment. Maybe she was a little glad that a fight hadn't ensued? But it wasn't like the conversation had necessarily made her feel better or more... like... more... secure... in the relationship, because she still had questions. She still didn't have a clear answer of why Trevor hadn't snapped in the way he did, other than it being a mixture of I don't like Lucky and alcohol.

But if it was literally just the combination of those two things, like...

How was she--

How--

She didn't know how she was supposed to keep whatever had happened last night from happening again. It was like she needed a little bullet point list of her mistakes from the night before with solutions to each step so that she could make sure she didn't repeat those mistakes.

And yeah, she was still probably a little tense, but, like, when wasn't she tense or... whatever.

When his hand moved to the bottom of her shirt, her fingers reached forward to brush against his arm, her breath momentarily catching in her throat.

He pulled away, and her eyes studied his face, her eyebrows drawing together.

"Ash..." he began as his hand dropped away from her side, and she pulled her hand back into her lap. “If you…want ta try, maybe tha first thing ta test out is apologizing less,” he said, with a slight smile.

The worried look on her face cracked into a faint smile.

She almost parted her lips to apologize for... well... apologizing too much, but Ash managed to catch herself and instead just pursed her lips together in a tight smile that relaxed a bit more as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. Her heart fluttered for a moment as the tension that had still been tight in her shoulders was finally alleviated.

Naturally, Trevor broke into a long-winded story about whatever her passive comment had been -- something that she'd already grown used to following Ashley Tisdale the Frog and then... well, she couldn't remember if there had been one on Halloween. The entire night was fuzzy to her save for a few details that were still vividly imprinted in her brain, but she did remember him giving a long rant about... something.

While he talked, she kept her eyes focused on him as she shifted in her seat so she could lean back into his side again.

On the bright side, this little... blip today had led to them discussing... everything and now, like, now she felt at least a little more comfortable in the relationship. A little more secure, and less like she was tiptoeing across broken glass or ice, just waiting for it to crack and sending her plunging into cold water where she'd find herself unable to breathe. She felt... actually... okay and not like one wrong move would lead to everything exploding in front of her.

As tended to happen when she found herself listening to Trevor's long stories, she spaced out here and there as she tried to follow along and piece together this and that -- look, he said a lot of names, his stories... they were hard to follow and she swore that the more into his stories that he got, the stronger his accent got, which just made the entire thing that much harder to follow.

Still, she got it. Her lips twitched into a slight smile as he spoke, her expressions mimicking his as he spoke, and she tried to give the appropriate response. Alright, look, yeah, she totally got this story. Trevor, age... Salmon Sean year, had been kidnapped by his grandparents and dragged to a giant birthday party with all of his family -- like all of it, and now she had an answer as to why there was never mention of his parents in these situations -- or at least his mom -- following last night where Trevor had informed her that she was, well, dead (hey, at least she'd remembered that tidbit from the previous evening).

See? She totally knew so much about him.

Still, based on his expressions and the way that he got so into the story, Ash couldn't help but think that there was some part of him that was probably looking back on the memories with a nostalgic feeling of some sort. Like, Ash would've killed to have some cool birthday party with cousins and aunts and uncles -- and maybe she was a little jealous, because even dog spit cake with Barbie hands mixed in sounded a lot more fun than what her birthdays had been like growing up.

“Ya think this is worse than that? No…this is at least four or five times better." He said as he finished off his story with a smile. "At least.”

Well, Ash didn't quite see how spending a quiet, tense birthday hungover in the dark of one's apartment with their significant other was better than an actual birthday party with, like, all of one's family was better than... his whole little story, but hey, whatever. It was Trevor's birthday, not hers, and she was like... well, she was glad that she hadn't, like, totally ruined this, too.

"Alright, so... this ranks above Salmon Sean birthday," she said with a small laugh as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Although, like..." she glanced away from him to look around the empty apartment, her gaze catching on the television screen with a movie that she was cursed to never finish. "I guess, like... I don't know, that still sound kinda more fun. More interesting, anyway, I guess."

"That sounds like... way better than my birthdays, too. It was always like... I don't know, nothing, I guess. We didn't, like... celebrate birthdays." She said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

She stared at the television screen for a moment before speaking again. "I have no idea what's happening," she said with a small huff of laughter, "I'm just like... I'm literally never going to finish this movie." Not that she really cared -- it was one of those predictable movies, but hey, sue her -- she liked the predictable, gushy, stupid romance movies. Yeah, yeah, what a surprise.

Ash looked down at the couch for the remote and picked it up before lifting it up and turning the television back off. She bit her lip, her eyes focusing on the remote while her thumb brushed over the buttons. "We should've gone out or something, like... to the beach or whatever, but like..." she dropped the remote back to the couch and looked towards Trevor, a smile stretching across her face. "I guess that would've like given you flashbacks, right? Like flashbacks to the whole fish birthday thing?"

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@omg_adriane has set their status to:
[insert an egotistical, plastic, bitchy mood]

@omg_adriane has interacted with:
Dalton

@omg_adriane has mentioned:
Maddie, Corey, Chas

@omg_adriane has tagged:
Xed ​

She tilted her head as she parted her lips slightly, her eyes focused on her reflection in the mirror. Adriane reached up with the ring finger of her left hand and wiped at a dash of lipstick that was, well, just under her lip. It had been a minor flaw on the girl's otherwise perfect makeup, but one that had been glaringly obvious to her as she had double-checked that she looked alright for Dalton, who had texted her to let her know he was on his way.

His text to her had been straight-forward and to the point -- he'd be there in ten minutes. If she had made plans for the day, perhaps she would've been a little peeved about his blatant text, but to be perfectly honest... Adriane didn't care. In fact, she preferred the cut and dry method that Dalton used to text. It was so mind-numbingly boring and annoying to participate in the silly little back and forths that so many people were fond of. She preferred getting straight to the point, not beating around the bush of oh, are you busy? When are you free? Can I come over then? and blah, blah, blah -- on and on.

Perhaps, she decided, this was why Dalton didn't get under her skin like so many others did, and why she even preferred him to Chas most days. Granted, Adriane had enjoyed Chas' presence a lot more prior to... well... living with him and her love for Chas could be compared to like... how one loved an annoying, whiny little brother. Plus Chas had also been far more tolerable before he got into a relationship with Seb -- yeah, the texts from Chas begging her to be nice to Seb and agree to go out and get coffee with them? Absolutely, dreadfully boring.

Regardless, following her rather dreadfully rough morning... Adriane was glad that Dalton was coming over. He would be a pleasant distraction following this morning's awkward encounter with Adriane showing up to Maddie's apartment to speak to her about a modeling shoot, and then awkwardly running into her ex-boyfriend that she had completely forgotten was Maddie's roommate.

You know, the boyfriend that had been so unapologetically boring that Adriane had broken up with him and turned to a life of sleeping around and refusing to commit because it was just so... dreadfully... boring.

Surprise, surprise -- the plastic bitch that had less personality than a Barbie doll (or perhaps she shared more attributes with a blowup doll) hated boring, repetitiveness... surprise, surprise, but Adriane actually preferred living life teetering on the edge.

She heard the front door open and Adriane glanced out through the cracked bathroom door before she turned back to the mirror and leaned in close to examine her makeup. Perfect she decided after another moment of studying her face and she gave a little satisfied nod, her lips quirking up into a genuine smile for a moment, but as soon as she realized what she was doing, the smile fell away and was replaced by her typical expression.

You know, the one that has been described a million times -- no smiling, no hint of emotion, just... flat, plastic, basic.

"Package delivery of one Hawaiian sun kissed asshole for a Miss Adriane Holloway." She heard Dalton call from in the living room, and a slight-- was that really what one thought it was? Was that... did the Adriane Holloway, who had yet to genuinely smile or laugh except for mockingly throughout the entirety of her time in Hollywood Arts (well, since the roleplay had started) -- had she... genuinely laughed following Dalton's little remark, with a wider smile than she had yet to express?

The answer was a resounding, surprising yes, but it fell away again as she stepped out of the bathroom, flicking off the light and pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click before she made her way into the living room to see Dalton.

He gestured towards a makeup kit, and one eyebrow raised slightly -- but not enough to wrinkle her forehead, mind you -- as she picked up the kit and fell onto the couch beside Dalton, her feet coming up to rest on the coffee table.

(Chas wasn't here, so she could do this without getting bitched at.)

"I brought a bribe in exchange for information and a free pass from being kicked out by JJ or His Chasness."

She glanced towards Dalton, an amused smile on her face, and then she looked back down at the kit. She popped it open, sorting through the various... makeup things that Adriane knew and understood, but that her roleplayer wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole, so alas.

"Kind of you," she remarked, her tone resoundingly monotone per usual. "JJ can throw as many fits as she wants -- she's not kicking you out, although I'm sure your presence will be enough for her to bitch about later given that Chas and I told her she wasn't allowed to have her boyfriend over." Adriane said with a roll of her eyes. "I would rather neither of them have their boyfriends over, but attempting to get Chas to agree to anything is like arguing with a child."

Same whine, same screaming, same practically tossing himself onto the ground to scream and kick.

"Well," Adriane started as she closed the makeup kit back up and leaned forward, placing it on the coffee table before she leaned back against the couch again, her arms crossing over her chest as she tilted her head slightly, trying to think of the important things to fill Dalton in on.

"Evie is a bitch and slept with Amy's boyfriend like the whore she is, and then she punched me at the festival." Adriane started, her eyebrows drawing down into a scowl. The faint brusies were still visible on her face, but the heavy amounts of makeup Adriane had applied more or less covered them up. "Nickie is also a conniving little simp and I hope she gets run over by a truck or whatever. Oh, and Chas got attacked by that uhh... a little blonde," she waved her hand dismissively, the name not coming to mind, "and lost a tooth. The video was circulating for a while, maybe you saw it, but it was hilarious."

The scowl disappeared when she reminisced about that, her lips curling back into an uncharacteristic faint smile. Ah. Nothing warmed the heart of one cold bitch quite like the mental image of her best friend getting attacked by a four foot basic child.

"Not much," she admitted, although there had been a lot, it was just that Adriane hadn't been privy to most of it, nor did she care to be.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Juliette Jameson
"A girl should be... whatever the fuck she wants to. Fuck Coco Chanel.”

@QueenJules has set their status to:
#Rehearsal #BetterThanYouAll #GettingThatWorkIn

@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
Leg day be like:

@QueenJules has interacted with:
Eli

@QueenJules has mentioned:
Ava, Chas, Adriane, Evie, Gen, Jace, Oates, Callum, Josie, Landon.

@QueenJules has tagged:
Winona geminiy hery jasmyn​

Her morning consisted of drooling on Ava’s shoulder, internally cringing, rushing back home to shower and be ready for rehearsal in the next hour or else somebody was going to take their slot. Of course making sure Precious had eaten before she left, Adriane and Chas could barelt keep themselves alive let alone a pet.

Despite how long it’d taken JJ to get ready— she wasn’t about to let that happen, especially since those girls from that famous college had noticed her.

They noticed her.

Their priorities were juniors and seniors, and yet somehow, they knew her. It had only meant everything that Jules was working for was somehow paying off. JJ wasn’t like everyone else. She didn’t have broadway parents, they weren’t producers, they weren’t actors & actresses, they weren’t musicians. She couldn’t piggyback off of her name and expect to make it— especially as a dancer, there were only so many music videos she could audition for to only be rejected simply because of her age. There were only so many shows she could appear in without it being school sauctioned.

She’s only been here a year, but it wasn’t enough.

Everyone knew JJ.

They didn’t know what she was capable of.

Except for people like Eli, he paid attention to her— which was surprising. He got his head out of his sister’s ass long enough to notice her talent. It’s only a part of why she decided to partner up with him for the festival. Alike herself; he was talented. He knew what he was doing and that’s much more than she could say for their token drunk, the freak show boyfriends— no, they weren’t freakshows because they were gay. They were just fucking weird. Imagine being exes and somehow still so obsessed with each other?

Pathetic.

There were a few others, but Juliette didn’t care to know them— or at the very least waste her time to even notice them.

She was many things.

Argumentative, opinionated, dramatic, an incredible fashionista, of course— and a bitch. But there wasn’t anyone as serious as Juliette when it came to dance.

Sure, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do yet— but that didn’t mean she couldn’t become the best in her class. If she wasn’t already, (she totally was) then, she’s gonna work her ass off to get there. And if she lost a few pounds in the meantime? Double win.

A heavy sigh escaped the brunette’s lips as she pocketed her phone, walking into the studio to see none other than her partner, at least he actually listened to her about the song— now, maybe she understands why Gen actually likes her brother.

He was more obedient than Precious.

“Morning, I guess. I see you took my suggestion. It was literally the perfect song, I found it online and—“ suddenly, music started blasting from the other side of the studio and Juliette’s chest was already set on fire, much like… fireworks, the smallest spark could set JJ off. Unfortunately for them, Taylor and Matt— they were complete whores in the Dance department and honestly? They were complete garbage. Seriously, it’s like they worked their ass off and neither of them even had an ass to work off.

Poor Matt didn’t even have the height to be considered as the leading man. He wasn’t all bad, it was just his personality that made him as ugly as Taylor.

Taylor now, oh— she had to be worse than Adriane herself. She wouldn’t be surprised if her favorite hookup was Landon Sinclaire and she went back after she was tested positive for HIV.

“Excuse me?” She yelled over the blaring music, and naturally, this had gotten their attention and Taylor rose an eyebrow towards Juliette.

“Awe. Did we take the little sophomore’s slot?”

Matt was quick to join in, of course— him being the teenage girl he was at heart, despite him being straight. Look at him defeating the stereotypes! Juliette would give him a round of applause if he actually deserved anything but a slap to the face.

“Unfortunate, really. You do know nobody isn’t going to care about your performance. Right? I don’t even know why Eli decided to stick with… well, practically a freshman.”

Ew.

“Practically? Do you just not know how grades work or was your brain replaced by the boner you have for Taylor? Besides, we reserved the studio weeks ago. So your little crappy bitch lies isn’t gonna work with us.”

Listen, when Juliette was pushed— she pushed back. It wasn’t pretty all the time. And nobody said she was all class, either.

Classy bitched are reserved for people like… Evie. At least she wasn’t the one getting plastered and complimenting her on social media— not that she didn’t appreciate Gen’s comments, she did. JJ will never allow her to live it down, but Evelyn just had a certain tier higher than Genevieve Johannes.

Not that she’d ever admit that to either of them— maybe Gen in an attempt of an insult, but knowing her, she’d just take it as a compliment.

Whore.

Anyway, JJ was just a full-on bitch.

She could be classy if need be.

But bitches got things done. She never had a problem with making that know, either.

“This is my studio time. Not you and your… not so little blonde.” She said, pointing towards Taylor and her model-like height.

“Does your neck hurt from looking up f—“

“We’re just finishing up, alright?” Matt lifted a hand in an attempt to shut JJ up, and it actually worked, Juliette let out a ‘Hmph.’ And crossed her arms, laying down her bag near Eli and deciding to enjoy the trainwreck she was about to watch.

Their music had started once again, now echoing throughout the studio and Jules lowered their own stereo to focus on their routine.

Remember what she said earlier?

If you wanted to be better than your class, you had to observe.

Duh.

Matt guided Taylor by the hand, before pulling away as the pair decided to do their own form of contemporary, Taylor slowly made her way away from him, following the beat ever-so-slightly, there was just important bits she was lacking like—

“Your form is wrong.” She spoke, successfully making her voice louder than the stereo, Taylor and Matt came to a sudden stop to glare at Juliette and the only thing they got in return was a shrug.

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is. You’re slouching more than Jace West if he had scoliosis.”

They probably didn’t know him, but that didn’t matter.

“Shoulders back. And— ugh, let me just show you, incompetent bitches. I swear.” Jules grabbed the remote and pressed play, seconds later the song had started and she barely asked Eli’s permission to use him for the dance, instead taking the lead herself.

Her hands were placed against his chest, as her body moved perfectly in sync with the music, allowing herself to ignore the gaze of her rivals and to focus on showing them up, instead. One hand reached for Eli’s arm, as if she was grasping for it while he made his way away from her, something like a dramatic scene of how they couldn’t get to each other— no matter how hard they tried.

It wasn’t Taylor and Matt’s routine exactly, it was… different.

In many ways it was.

Her song, her movements, her actions, body language— it had meaning. Taylor and Matt however, there was nothing but the terrible need of a back brace.

“Alright! Alright, we get it. Shoulders back. But that doesn’t mean your form was better than mine.” Taylor yelled over the music and she used her own remote to stop the music, mid-routine

Delusional bitch.

It was probably for the best. They’d steal her idead and use it for themselves being the selfish little bitches that they clearly were.

“Yeah, and Eli just stood there. He let you lead.” Not that there was a problem with a woman being the lead in the first place, Matt just had a common case of fragile masculinity.

“That’s exactly what it means. Eli here would tell you exactly that— well, that is unless he wants to show you how a real man leads a woman.”

Psh, Eli? A real man?

As if.

But it isn’t like Juliette was about to say that right in front of Matt’s face— Eli was on her side here, she can’t incriminate him

It doesn’t matter if she believes otherwise

What?

It wasn’t as if she said she was honest, too.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@JaceOfHearts has set their status to:
uhhhh...

@JaceOfHearts has interacted with:
Landon

@JaceOfHearts has mentioned:
N/A

@JaceOfHearts has tagged:
gh0stwriter ​

He decided that he did, in fact, quite frankly... absolutely hate people and socializing.

His ears rang with embarrassment, his cheeks reddening as he turned in his chair again to face the keyboard. His left hand hung loosely by his side while his other hand played against the keys, creating a tune all on its own. Yeah that's right, surprise, surprise, but even when he wasn't trying, Jace could make a decent tune. Heck, a couple of the songs he'd released had been born from his just messing around with this instrument or that instrument.

(He was still working on a song with a mad harp solo.)

Music made things better, too -- trust him. It helped calm the nerves, helped solidify the mind and one's feelings. Music just... helped... clear all of the static in one's brain, or at least in his. Hence why he usually had headphones on, or earbuds in, so that he'd have something playing to distract the little conflicting voices in Jace's head that would inflict feelings of nervous, stomach roiling anxiety.

“Well, it’s not like I gave you a heads up. Figured since you hadn’t returned my texts or phone calls, an ambush was in order.” Landon was saying.

Jace wondered if he could play a nifty little tune to Landon's words -- not with Landon singing them, mind you, because Jace wasn't exactly in the business of having his ears start bleeding this early in the morning. Just with him talking, and a nifty beat attached to the words. Like a little remix or something. It'd be nice -- Landon's voice was deep, so couple that with some guitar, maybe a little beat of a drum--

"It's cause of the kiss, right?"

His background music, you know -- the tune that was being pulled from his fingers against the keys, came to an abrupt halt as his finger hit the wrong key. Jace winced, his hand falling limply against the keyboard.

How was he--

Why would--

He--

What was wrong--

Clearly, Landon didn't know what proper social etiquette was, which was to simply brush over something as awkward as a kiss and unrequited feelings. In fact, brushing over this kind of stuff should've been obvious to all -- it was the other smaller things that Jace wouldn't be surprised if Landon didn't get. Like, ya know, uhh... well, he couldn't think of any right now, since his thoughts were frazzled and scrambled once more.

Jace contemplated standing up and walking out so that he could avoid this again, but then he remembered that this was his apartment.

Drats.

Well... he could leave Landon here alone... he'd have to leave eventually, after all--

No, no, that's not how you treated friends.

Unless...?

No.

"I don't... I-I don't... no, n-no..." oh freaking... heck... gosh... darn it -- Jace could barely get his scrambled thoughts in order enough to actually respond to Landon and, the more that he stumbled over his words, the more he just wanted to slam his head into the keyboard, or maybe jump out the window, or literally anything that could save him from this awkward moment.

Instead, all he could do was stay focused on his keyboard.

Gosh dang it -- couldn't Landon just understand that the awkward, tenseness of this moment had nothing to do with him in particular, and it was simply because Jace in and of himself was a terribly awkward human being?

His gaze shifted up to look out the window behind his keyboard.

"W-w-won... won... wonderful we-weather we... we are... uh... we're... having..."

His stuttering, the mumbling, the tripping over his words, all seemed to get worse as he tried to change the subject.

"Good day... day... f-for... l-like, uhh... uhhh.... o-outside... ac... activities... w-whatever... pe-people do out-outside..."

Finally, he just shut his mouth.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: waitin impatiently

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: BILLY BOB'S BIG BOPPER EMPORIUM

basics

MENTIONS:
Chanel, Alex, Nate

INT:
Winona (Casey)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Chas Marino

Chas idly wiped his hand on his side after releasing Casey's hand. It had become a habit after making contact with most people, but with Casey, well, it felt much more justified. Listening to Casey answer his question caused his heart to skip a beat, as he realized he'd failed to recall the profession of his A-lister aunt. At the very least, it was a little bit of a celebrity power move to be fuzzy on the details of another one, even if she was leagues more relevant than Chas.

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate it," the Italian boy replied, looking forward to giving his mother some good news. After all of the messes Chas had gotten himself into the past month, arranging a get-together with Aunt Zara or Chloe or whatever would be the first step toward mending his standing in the family. "I always found it funny that Chanel was supposedly the one with the silver tongue, given her... blunt tendencies."

He pinched his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. That and the gray hairs Chas made an effort to conceal were telltale signs of the stress he endured for the sake of his career and social standing, and at this point he was beginning to question how effective his methods were. All his years of preparation for success had landed him as his mother's personal errand boy, entertaining the least marketable of the Clairmonts (in Chas' professional opinion) in the back of his old home. God, he couldn't wait until he'd get paid for this. Not that he needed the money, but Chas had expected to have made his first million by the time he was eighteen and time was running out.

Chas lifted his head back up, the creases on his forehead disappearing as he put his hand down. He nodded while Casey spoke, agreeing that he had, indeed, wanted to talk about the interview that day. A look of shock crossed over his face at the implication—or, rather, outright statement—that Chas was worried in any capacity over how their televised appearance was going to go. Of course it was going to be fine. Chas would be there

He had only hoped Casey would just do everything Chas said instead of essentially be left to his own devices, as it gave the boy a bit more peace of mind knowing he had the situation under control. If he had to, Chas was fully prepared to formulate a series of scripts based on the course of the interview; he'd done it before, after all, and he'd seen it plenty during his years on reality television. It was a shame that show never really took off, as Chas believed his family to be far more marketable than any Kardashian nobody.

"If you really mean what you say, then I have no doubts in my mind it'll go fine." He crossed his arms, then let out a defeated sigh as Casey's hand reached his shoulder. This was going to go horribly. "Let me just reiterate that the reputations of your family, my family, and the institution of Hollywood Arts are highly influenced by how this interview goes. No risks will be taken if we can't afford them." He met the blonde in the eyes. "That being said, I'll place my faith in you. I know this isn't your first time doing this sort of thing."

Satisfied with his spiel, Chas' shoulders slouched somewhat as the tension left his body. However, it immediately spiked as Casey advised him to loosen up. His shoulders raised back up and he met the boy's gaze with a mildly offended expression. "I'm not worried!" he protested in a shrill voice, "Being meticulous pays off."

The rest of the boys' visit went fine, with Chas' mood increasing tenfold as soon as they got back inside without Priscilla the devil whore in sight. His anxieties were eased a little by Casey's words, but he had to go through all of his talking points unless the two wanted Chas to have a nervous breakdown. Casey probably already knew half of the advice he was giving, but... for his own sanity, Chas insisted on going through them.

Finishing their chat just in time, Chas headed off to meet with Alex, who had sent him a slightly cryptic business proposal earlier in the day. Normally he wouldn't have given just any offer the time of day, but he had already planned to get brunch anyway and Alex wasn't the worst person to talk with. She kept him on his toes, something which irritated him to the ends of the Earth but also became a source of respect from the stuck-up boy.

He sat down ten minutes early at Billy Bob's Big Bopper Emporium, a diner with a godawful name but gorgeous-looking salads, and anyone that knew Chas for at least five minutes knew that he was a connoisseur of appearing like a healthy eater at all times. He waited until Alex was about fifteen minutes late, impatiently flooding her text messages with demands for a punctual meeting. Chas had things to do, like contemplating roasting Precious on a spit and shredding all of the drafts he'd written last night for his Winter Arts Fest film project.

Chas would accept nothing less than perfection, but it was difficult for a boy whose life was plagued with imperfect people and imperfect inspiration. Every night had been a vicious cycle of devising an idea only to hate it and discard of it all moments later. It most definitely was not good for Chas' skin, as evidenced by the lone pimple resting right on his left cheek beneath a small patch of concealer.

He impatiently ordered a small salad, only to have it sent back once it sat for ten minutes. Ordering before Alex got there was considered rude in Chas' opinion, but the girl wasn't entitled to proper etiquette if she was going to waste his time. Heaving a sigh, he defeatedly rested his chin on his hand. His elbow was on the table, a violation of every instinct of manners in his body. He absentmindedly stirred his iced coffee, scrolling through a multitude of DMs from a multitude of mostly irrelevant people.

Then again, the only relevant person in Chas' life was Chas, so most people were on an equal playing field, unless they were Precious or Nate or something.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: the tea

OUTFIT: work clothes

LOCATION: dollar store

basics

MENTIONS:
n/a

INT:
Winona (Zeph)
ohdittoh (Lin)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Angel Cervantes

Angel flinched once more at Lin's words, surprised by how hurt he was over such juvenile teasing. He did his best to maintain a straight face, but it was hard not to when his cousin was getting in his face every few seconds. "I was just—" he began, only to clam up after being called a rather harsh word.

He involuntarily shuddered as Lin admitted to hearing nothing about his birthday. It didn't really matter all that much to Angel who knew what, as he didn't even make a big deal out of it in the first place. Moreover, Lin was the last person he expected to care about that sort of thing. Even so, it'd have at least been nice for Ricky to acknowledge it in some meaningful way... the best he got was a brief phone call the day of, which was still a nice gesture. "Yeah, just... thought I'd try asking anyway," he answered with a nervous chuckle.

Aside from the obvious perks, being buddy-buddy with Ricky Westborne was pleasant. He was a nice guy and Angel had a hard time telling why Lin hated him to the extend he did, even after getting an earful over "what he'd done".

How was Angel supposed to know? Was it such a crime to give someone the benefit of the doubt?

The short boy smiled gratefully at Zeph, his eyes unable to meet the tall boy's after what had just gone on between the three of them. Everything that had just been said and the number one question on his mind was still just how Zeph ended up having a hand in Lin's criminality. Worse, he'd held out a little hope that the sophomore would come to his aid with Lin demeaning him in the middle of a dollar store, but he couldn't hold it entirely against him. Knowing himself, Angel probably wouldn't have known what to say either if he was in Zeph's shoes.

"I don't wear diapers..." the boy asserted, as though he had to make that known, "Lin, I just—I don't think other people should hear about it before you." His voice dropped to a whisper, and he made a sideways glance at Zeph. "If you could just, if you could, like, listen, I could talk to you and you can be on your way."

He waited patiently as Lin hurled the last of his insults at Angel, becoming a little concerned with how numb he was becoming to it in the moment. "I mean, I wish you'd see things from my perspective and I'd like to go get a pizza with you sometime, so the offer's still on the table, but..." He waved his hands around and bobbed side to side, expressing his uncertainty for the words that would follow. "... that's not what I'm here for."

"Well, I'm here in this store for my job, but I'm here in this aisle right in front of you for, um, something else," he corrected, his weak smile faltering before Lin's impatient stare, "Also I really wish we could be friends again, 'cause you're really cool and you always have been, evenifyouhatemeoverstuff..."

He cleared his throat, his heart pounding over the point he was dancing around. "But the thing I wanted to ask you about is the baby." He waited a moment, gauging Lin's reaction before continuing. He didn't seem to know, at least the way Angel initially perceived it. "I read about it this morning... dunno why I didn't know beforehand, but I guess it's a new thing. You know..." He winced. "... Ricky and Aunt Isabella's kid. A cousin... of sorts?"

"I mean, your sibling, I guess, but... you know." He shrunk down, his worst fears making him wary of Lin beating him up. He'd definitely threatened it before, but that didn't seem to be the boy's style, at least not in the middle of this dollar store with stolen merchandise on his head. "Did you know? That she's pregnant? I just figured... you'd wanna talk about it. At least, I do, kinda sorta... and I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first."

code by valen t.

 

[mogy]

Oates Oates
" podcasts, amirite? "

@bigO has set their status to:
i'm sorry

@bigO has set their outfit to:
jeans, shirt, jacket


@bigO has set their location to:
park

@bigO has interacted with:
kian

mogy has mentioned:
geminiy

Oates knew how Kian was at the dawn of bad news. These two have been through too many stormy nights together for Oates not to recognize Kian's way of fighting against what was too difficult to comprehend at a given moment, and so, naturally, he wasn't going to deny the boy an ironic excuse for a distraction that came in the form of a question, or more so, essentially a begging for Oates to speak about Callum and get Kian's mind off the harrowing which he'd now have to pull through on his own.

As Kian blamed himself for everything, Oates realized more and more how much he didn't want this. Seeing the joy and hope almost literally drained from Kian's eyes hurt more than most things ever did, but at the end of the day, how could he have blamed anyone but himself for the feelings which transpired on that beautiful day at that beautiful park. The face meeting Oates matched with the one from three years ago when he made the decision to go to Hollywood Arts—the curly-haired boy hated not a lot, but that expression was one of the rare things he did despise solely because it was the embodiment of absolute pain that was caused by nobody else but him.

The fact out on the table was that he was the one who leaned in for the kiss first, at that moment ready to let everything behind him go and focus on himself for one of the first times in forever long. It was an act of promise that assured Kian in what Oates was now shamefully though reluctantly denying given the knowledge of what had happened the previous night. And pain radiated from the boy in front. Oates not being able to be the person there for him to give him a hug or kiss him like he did when they were still together was what hurt the most, so what else was left to do than to adhere to the ask? If Oates knew how to do something right, it was talking.

"Callum is..." Something that could only have been called an apologetic smile sat on Oates' face as he tried to think of how to describe his boyfriend. What was an appropriate word that would describe the lanky, rude, emotionless exterior of a person Oates knew was so beautiful below that imperfect layer? "...well, Callum. He's not as bad as people make him out to be. He's not as bad as he tries to make himself seem—he can be so funny at times and he's like crazy good at math, and probably one of the best dancers I've ever met."

There were a lot of things that made Oates fall in love with Callum and he could've continued to think and say all or most of them, but for some reason, probably the series of events that took place the previous night and the current day, all that kept appearing in Oates's mind was the sad truth he came to learn only after getting into a relationship with Callum. Just after a break of silence and the fading of the smile on Oates's face did he speak again, this time more truthfully. "But he's just sad and lost. Like really sad and lost." This was when the enthusiasm fled from Oates' voice and all that was left was the almost pitying tone of voice not so ordinary for the curly-haired boy. "So, I'm there to help him because, I guess I still love him too much to let him push me away. If that makes sense?"

It was something about Kian that just made Oates trust him to a fault. He felt at home with Kian and as if he could speak without the filter he put on for others. Everybody had a person like that—one with whom they didn't hold anything back, and Kian was that person for Oates, undoubtedly. Had it been the countless hours they spent together hitherto or just the unexplainably calm aura Kian radiated was left to question.

"And I kissed you yesterday because I thought he would be fine on his own and I could do something for me, but then when you left, things just went in a different direction and now I hurt you," Oates admitted, his lips pressing against each other; his voice almost cracking at the end of the sentence; his eyes on Kian. "And I'm so sorry for messing with your feelings." He leaned forward to grab Kian's hand and press it in his own as a sign of some, comparably meaningless, gesture. "It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. I'm really really sorry Kian." All the words coming from Oates were there in hopes of removing that awful pain from Kian, but both of them knew this was Kian's own task.

Out of all the possible ways the two boys could've reunited, this was probably one of the worst, or it at least felt like that.

º º code by dildo º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

Angy Cervantsy— that was Angel’s name for the time being, luhmao.

The little mommy-kissing tittysucker seemed nervy-nervy-nervous. He usually seemed awkward, because the bitch was a literal fucking baby, but now he seemed awkward-er.

It was fucking hilarious, honestly, but also really kinda sad, because he was trying super hard to get something out and miserably failing. Lin highkey doubted that it was anything important, but, luhmao, he did charity from time to time, so he thought that he’d listen. (Ya know, for the good of it, or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, luhmao.)

“I mean, I wish you’d see things from my perspective, and I’d like to go get a pizza with you sometime, so the offer’s still on the table, but…that’s not what I’m here for,” said the crooked-jawed boy, and Lin gave him a once-over, putting one hand on his hip. He tapped his foot on the ground. "Well, I'm here in this store for my job, but I'm here in this aisle right in front of you for, um, something else. Also I really wish we could be friends again, 'cause you're really cool and you always have been, evenifyouhatemeoverstuff..."

Lin rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, raising an eyebrow. “Yuh-huh, yeah, I know,” he said, sighing boredly, not even trying to act as if he was following any of the gibberish-y shit that the boy had said. “Spit it out, kissass.” His eyes shifted to scan the toy aisle, not focusing on anything in particular. “I don’t have all day to waste. I’ve got, uh...at least...” He held out his left hand, poking his tongue out slightly and muttering as he studied each of his fingers intently, turning them up one by one. “One...three...carry the two...” He lowered his pinky and his ring finger, and he brought his right hand over to press his forefinger down. He held up the remaining finger and gave it a good couple of bounces, grinning slowly. “At least a trillion things better to do than sit and listen to you, bitch— luhmao.”

Angel cleared his throat, and Lin scoffed, leaning his head back slightly to study a panel on the ceiling as he waited for whatever dumb words were going to come out of the dummy’s dumb mouth.

"But the thing I wanted to ask you about is the baby."

Lin blinked. “Baby?” he echoed.

What the fuck was the baby?

Like, the rapper Da Baby? Like, the royal baby? Like, Baby Ruth? Or, like…?

Lin’s brows twitched, and he looked at Angel, his deep confusion written in his eyes. His lips were agape for a second, and he cocked his head slightly. “The fuck is that?” There was no luhmao— Lin was serious. “You mean that you’re having a kid?” he asked, confused, and then he shook his head and dismissed that thought. “Oh, but a fucking virgin, so...?”

Angel didn’t talk for a moment, and a thought flashed in Lin’s mind that was totally fucking dumb, too. “I’m gonna have a kid?” he asked, voice even more bewildered, and then he shook his head again. “Oh, but I’m a fucking virgin, so...”

Lin’s eyes flicked to study Angel’s posture, and his lips set in an impatient frown. “Fucking spit it out, if it’s so super duper important, lameass.”

Finally, the lameass started to spit it out— or spit it up because he was a baby. "I read about it this morning... dunno why I didn't know beforehand, but I guess it's a new thing. You know..." Angel winced, and Lin wobbled his head.

No, he didn’t know. Fucking duh.

"...Ricky and Aunt Isabella's kid. A cousin...of sorts?"

“The fuck?”

The world around Lin pulsed in a harsh thump, and his spine went cold. He felt as if he’d abruptly lost contact with his body. His heart began to drum out of his chest, and he felt his stomach heating up, as if he were about to vomit. His mouth was dry, and he felt as if the air had been knocked from him. He struggled for air. His vision, the corners of which were black and fuzzy, sloshed this way and that, changing with every beat of his pounding, racing heart. Angel was talking, but Lin’s ears had popped and the boy’s voice was muffled.

Wait, no, no. He couldn’t have heard him right.

Lin pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth to pop his ears back out, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt for a shelf to steady himself, and a laugh bubbled from his lips, though he was unaware.

Angel was still talking, and his words were suddenly clear. “Did you know? That she's pregnant? I just figured...you'd wanna talk about it.” Lin opened his eyes up and tried to settle his gaze, oozing with vitriol and disbelief, on the boy standing before him. “At least, I do, kinda sorta...and I don't know, I wanted to talk to you first."

Lin paused a long moment, trying to maintain his eye contact through the swaying of his vision, and he managed to catch his breath enough to laugh once again.

“What?” he asked, his voice whispy, and he cleared his throat and gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head and holding his temple. He dropped his eyes to the floor, which swayed beneath his foot. He shook his head once more, squeezing his eyelids shut and laughing a few, sharp laughs that increased in volume each time.

The tense air rested between the two for a moment, and the deadness was nearly suffocating.

Finally, Lin lifted his eyes to Angel, a small, unbelieving grin on his face. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” His voice was weak, and he laughed, clearing his throat once more and speaking louder and clearer. “What kinda bullshit lie is that?” His eyes, fixed on Angel, softened almost sympathetically. “Nice try to get me back, bitch boy, but you’re going to have to try a whole lot harder than that to drag me back to you,” he said, his voice lacking that angry edge and instead replaced with a dismissive tone. “There’s no fucking way my dad would be having a kid and wouldn’t t...”

Wouldn’t tell me?

Since when had Pricky fucking called him to do anything except for give him some cold remarks and tell him off? Fuck— even when Lin texted and asked him if he was going to let him go to HA, he didn’t get an answer except a single yes for several months.

Lin studied Angel’s face, his posture—

The bitch was…telling the truth, wasn’t he?

Panic set in Lin’s chest again.

He looked at Angel with wide eyes as the revelation dawned on him again. His voice, when he spoke, was furious. “Are you fucking—“ His face went stone serious when he cut himself off, and it remained that way for a moment as he studied Angel again.

What the fuck?!

His face snapped into anger, and, in a fast motion, he grabbed Angel’s collar and yanked him towards himself. Though they were nearly the same height and Lin was the taller of the two, he still pulled him down. His face was only a couple of inches away from Angel’s, misplaced fury written all over his expression. “Are you fucking serious, jackass?” His eyes were wild with panic. “What the fuck are you— what?!” He only a second to answer before rattling him and growling, “Speak, bitch! Get that shit out! Fucking talk!”

mood
WHAT THE FUCK

location
tha dolla storeeeeeee

outfit
spot the drip lmao

playing...
tongue tied

by grouplove​

mentions
n/a

interactions
zephy and angy

tags
Winona hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

M O O D : "i'm ready! i'm ready!"

O U T F I T : give me a sec

L O C A T I O N : home sweet home

I N T E R A C T I O N S : corey.

T A G S : natsukashii

The morning, despite the slight awkwardness, hadn't been terrible in Maddie's eyes. Adriane had come over to discuss a modeling shoot they were doing together and to deny her amazing pancakes which was totally Adri's loss by the way. Of course, Adriane had a lot to say about the ex sleeping on Maddie's couch but when didn't she have something to say about Madelaine's naivety.

It's not like she was wrong. Maddie had been told multiple times, mostly by JJ and Adriane, that she was too nice for her own good. It was obvious when she took a second to realize she had come to the rescue of someone who was not only a jerk to her but who was clearly in a very draining place in life and making horrible choices.

Way to go Maddie.

Not long after Adriane had left the apartment, Maddie gently woke Gus up, got him some breakfast to help the hangover, and then an uber so he could head home.

She had originally planned on driving him home herself but honestly, this was probably for the best and she knew it. They were in two completely different spaces in their lives and while she would always care for him, she had to let him go. Right?

About half an hour had passed and Maddie had already gotten everything cleared from their breakfast while Corey got dressed. "Come on, Coco! We are gonna waste the whole day!" she called out, slipping her shoes on. "And you're driving this time!" she added.

They had plans to go to the Santa Monica Pier which she had been looking forward to for a while. All the games, rides, and ugh, the amazing food! All right there on the beach too!

It was the perfect day out with her best friend and she needed it even more after running into both Javi and Gus last night. Neither had been interactions she expected or enjoyed too much.

Thankfully, soon enough they would be out the door and on their way to have the best day ever! No stress tagging along!

MADELAINE HARLOW

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

MICHAEL K. REID

asshole supreme

“Right to business,” Mike agreed, cocking a grin at Gen, and he stood to follow her, picking up his bag to settle it across his shoulder. By the time he was ready to follow her, the long-legged girl was halfway across the room, and he let out a soft chuckle.

(Hey, by the way, why the fuck did people who were tall have to walk so fast, huh? Was that another way for them to assert their self-importance? Pshft.)

He dropped his now empty coffee cup in the metal trash can as he passed it, and he came to a stop at the doors that Gen had just opened before tugging the doors open and following behind her.

Mike whistled softly at the impressiveness of the room as the doors swung shut behind him, looking around and studying everything his eyes caught on. Every facet of this place seemed high-dollar and pristine. Honestly, he thought he’d snap or shatter something any second, and then he’d owe his left lung as payment for whatever exorbitantly-priced item he’d so unluckily breathed on wrong. That rack of clothing, for example, with so many white clothes hanging on it that a nature cult would piss themselves with glee at the sight of it. He was resilient and far from clumsy, but he wouldn’t put it past himself to hardly bump his shoulder into it and have it suddenly tumble down. The long table in the middle of the room, littered with papers, computers, and whatever else the rich had spent their leftover change on? Yeah, just one misstep, and he was likely to— somehow— snap the thing in two, and, as a bonus fuck you from God, miraculously total all of the laptops on it.

(This was part of the reason that Mike didn’t like expensive things, and didn’t like buying expensive things; he envisioned every way possible that he could accidentally break them, and then suddenly, the thing became as good as a piece of trash, and the Walmart brand looked just as good as the “luxury” for whatever purposes he needed.)

Gen made her way over to one of the computers on the table and began to type away on it, and he listened to what she said, studying her movements. An image popped up on the large display screen on the wall furthest from them, and he lifted his eyes to it. He stared at the white suits and ball gowns on the screen, his brows knitting slightly. He put a finger on his chin, working his jaw as he tried to figure out what was going on as the outfits changed. He quickly realized that they were projection screens, and the patterns on them were coming from some projector offscreen.

Gen began to speak once again, explaining to him the concept that she had in mind originally. He turned to see her again as she began pulling several of the white outfits off of the rack and laid them on the table. She then went on to say that they were going to do a shoot beforehand, and then they were going to set up scenes before the date of the fest, and then when the time came, they were going to project outfits onto the white outfits.

A grin spread across Mike’s face as he watched his company grab a cape off of the rack and fasten it to herself. He watched her do the quick demonstration with the projector, his grin broadening the whole time.

“Pretty cool? That’s a damn understatement,” Mike agreed, looking at Gen with a nearly giddy look in his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” He stepped toward the rack, and he reached out to feel of one of the suits. “It does sound like a lot of work, but…” He looked over at Gen. “We’re at the top for a reason. If it was easy to get here, then there would be no point in being here in the first place, would there?” He grinned at her, settling back on his feet. “I’m not one to back down, just because there’s some kind of difficulty. So, a small mistake onstage could fuck everything up— we just don’t fuck up. Problem solved, yeah?” he said, echoing her sentiment.

He walked over to the table, tugging out a seat and dropping his backpack into it. He withdrew his beaten up journal and tossed it on the table, zipping up his bag before bringing his journal and pressing it across his thigh to flatten it. Setting it on the table again, he opened it to the page with his notes in one flip, and he pulled the pen that he’d sat in its spiral spine out.

He looked over at Gen, grinning. “Well,” he said, “let’s get to work, you say?”

mood
work time

location
?? someplace bougie

outfit
polo and pants

playing...
drunk face

by machine gun kelly​

mentions
n/a

interactions
gen

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan

quite the catch

“This ranks far above Salmon Sean,” Trevor agreed with a soft chuckle and a frown. “It really doesn’t take much to rank above it, but this does. I’d rather have this borin' than anythin’ as, quote—“ He gave an air quote with the hand not tangled in Ash’s. “— ‘interestin’’—“ He gave yet another air quote. “— unquote, as that feckin' birthday.”

(Yeah…no, he didn’t realize how insulting that sounded. The blunt had made him blissfully unaware.)

“You didn’t celebrate birthdays?” he asked at that comment of hers. “I consider ya lucky, then. At least you didn’t have ta sprain yer ankle in a feckin’ salmon costume,” he scoffed kiddingly, shaking his head, and then he decided that he was serious and set his brows. “I shudder at tha very memory. I begged ta get a cast or somethin' cool so that tha people at school could sign it, but the only thin’ Nana would give me were those medical bandages, and she chewed me out so badly when I tried to write out on it that I think I was half-deaf for all of a month afterwards. One of tha cute blondes at school did write a smiley face on my wrist, though, so that was…nice. Her name was Mikhail Cahill— Mika— so we sat tagether in class together because they sorted us alphabetically. I had tha biggest crush on her, an’ I found her on Instagram at some point las’ year, because ya can’t really forget a name as interestin’ as that. Turns out, she’s got two feckin’ children. Crazy, idn’t it?” He paused a moment, nodding his head. “She’s still hot, though.”

(The boy could talk about nothing and everything for hours on end without running out of things to say. He tended to talk more about the former— and he didn’t really know when to stop.)

Ash looked back at the television, and Trevor’s eyes flicked back to the set as well. “I have no idea what’s happening,” Ash laughed softly.

“Oh, this part?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s where…”

He trailed off.

He hadn’t seen this movie— right. He’d forgotten that.

Heh, right. He was a boy who just knew a lot of facts about the movie, but he didn't even— the name? He didn't even remember it. No, not him. What even was a television? Psht, sounded like something that— something that only softies watched.

Yeah, that.

Right.

“I’m just like…I’m literally never going to finish this movie.”

Trevor gave a soft shrug. “There’s a Wikipedia fer a reason, right?” he said, trying to be encouraging.

(He was trying, okay?)

Ash found the remote and turned the television off, and Trevor watched the screen as it turned black. He looked over to the girl beside him, studying her her face as she spoke. “We should’ve gone out or something, like…to the beach or whatever, but like…” She dropped the remote and looked to him, giving him a smile. “I guess that would’ve given you flashbacks, right? Like flashbacks to the whole fish birthday thing?”

Trevor’s brows had knit in concentration to grasp all that Ash had said, and he chuckled softly and shook his head once she was done. “No, tha Battle’a tha Barbie is behind me, an’ unless I find some kinda hand in my cake—“ He cut himself off with a blink, and he chuckled at the awkward realization. “Well, feck, actually, guess I don’t have ta worry about that at all anymore, heh.” He shook his head, looking at Ash again. “I mean, it’s not too late ta leave, ya know. Rachel, tha chariot of tha gods, waits out front, should we want ta leave.” He gave her a slight grin. “An’, like I said…I’ll do whatever you want ta, ‘cuz tha only thin’ that I really wanna do is…be wit’ you.” He looked up, nodding his head as he gave a “blah, blah, blah, an’ other gushy shite” and a soft chuckle, and then he looked back to Ash. “My keys're right where I left ‘em…you wanna go somewhere?”

mood
well?

location
his apartment

outfit
t-shirt & sweatpants

playing...

2009​

by glaive​

mentions
n/a

interactions
ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Alejandra Cortez
"There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.”

@Realex has set their status to:
Toast.

@Realex has set their outfit to:
Business Casual Brunchial

@Realex has interacted with:
Ava, Chas

@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi, Kian

@Realex has tagged:
Winona Kitsune2202 geminiy hery ​

Everything Ava said had practically felt like a slap in the face, except the only thing that was hurting Alejandra was the reality of her words. She knew it was too far-fetched to believe that Naomi was suddenly okay with changing for her, but if she didn’t hope. What else would she do? Become like everyone else at HA? Be completely emotionless? Acting like you're in your forties at the ripe age of 17? Given up on love at the first sight of something bad?

Alex could be dramatic, but not that dramatic.

Her brows creased together, she opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. There wasn’t anything she could say, Alex knew how she sounded-- but it wasn’t as if Ava was talking about anything she was actually experienced with.

“Okay, stop, just stop.”

Alejandra put a hand up, halting the conversation so she could get a word in.

“This isn’t about my taste, Kian was… a mistake. Can’t people have mistakes? Look-- Ava, I just… it doesn’t make any sense! It’s probably just a misunderstanding, how do you even know you could trust this Saint guy?” To be fair, how did she even know if she could trust Naomi? One kiss wasn’t going to fix all of that… despite how much Alex wished that it did.

She hated everything about this, she hated that she was getting angry, and she knew it was going to make everything worse but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Exactly! You’re not going to get it. You’ve never dated anybody, Ava. You hardly even leave this damn apartment so I’m not even surprised that you haven’t. You’re finding it hard to understand why I like a girl, and I’m just finding it hard to understand why you’re making it a priority in the first place when you just don’t get it.”

A pathetic excuse.

‘You don’t get it.’

Jesus, Alex sounded like something straight out of a rom-com, arguing with her mother on how she deserved to be with a boy who was, in every way-- bad for her.

“I know you’re trying to help but… just don’t. I have it under control, I don’t need any… love advice. Okay? I’m fine. Naomi and I-- we’re fine. It’ll be fine.” It sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Ava, but her point still stood.

Alex heaved a sigh of frustration.

“I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you later.” The brunette spared a last glance towards Ava, before looking around the room for her bag-- almost ready to be set into a spiral, once she turned around, she was met with Ava avoiding her gaze and held out the bag. The action was enough to make her feel terrible for what was said, but it wasn’t enough for her to apologize so quickly.

Alex took the bag and she left the building with a slight slam of the front door.

__

The bell that stood at the top of the entrance announced her arrival, her gaze searching for Chas in every one of the booths while waving away the hostess with a polite smile. Her eyes landed on a booth not far away and an incredibly egotistical, sad looking boy who stared into his coffee cup like he was a lost puppy awaiting his owner.

Alex didn’t say anything, instead plopping her bag down onto the seat and then sitting herself, curious eyes scanning the table before she glanced up at him with something of a grin.

Alejandra wasn’t in the best mood, that much was clear.

Before Chas could even open his mouth, the brunette put a hand up-- indicating him not to continue.

“Don’t talk about how late I am. I know.”

A waitress came by with an incredibly peppy attitude, introducing herself which was probably a second time to Chas but Alex was quick to return her smile-- while forced, it was the polite thing to do. She glanced at the menu, but it was merely for show, Alex knew what she wanted already. The girl has been getting the same order for the last ten years, every diner-- same order. Never failed.

“Brunch, brunchhhh… Uhh… I’ll do two eggs, scrambled, fries, sausage-- links, and… white toast?” The woman took her menu, and Chas’s order of course-- Alex settled into her seat with a heavy sigh, muttering a thank you as the waitress placed two waters in front of them, and she was off.

Knowing him, he’d want to get straight to business.

Knowing Alex, she’d want to prolong this as long as she could.

“So, how’s your day so far?”

She had to admit, bothering him a bit was already making her feel a little less… whatever it was, it was a little less.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has set their status to:
happy

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has interacted with:
Evie

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has mentioned:
N/A

@NathanielWithoutTheIel has tagged:
jasmyn ​

In Nate's life, he had dated exactly two people before he decided that he was ready to toss the towel in and give up on the whole "romance" thing. The ideals that his parents had pushed on him and his siblings from such a young age -- you know, the whole get married, have kids, this and that -- had never had a particular appeal to him. And after having a childhood love in the form of that asshole Travis, and then after being in a more serious relationship with Amy, and just... absolutely failing in both aspects, Nate had come to the conclusion that relationships weren't for him.

Yep, at the ripe age of seventeen, Nate had given up on the whole idea and decided to just deal in sex. Since, you know, at that point he'd also given up on drugs. Yeah, Nate had kind of blamed his drug addiction for a lot of the shit wrong in his relationship with Travis so, when he was sober and started dating Amy but still had similar issues and the same precautions and general... lack... of feeling, or lack of wanting to get any more serious, well...

He hadn't been sure what to blame except for himself.

Evie made sense of the words that Nate couldn't.

"Wait. Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Woods?" she teased, and his breath caught in his throat, and his lips pulled back into an awkward grin, and he let out a little, breathless chuckle as his heart pounded and his stomach twisted. "I'm in if you are. Maybe it won't be so bad to see where this goes, yeah?"

She said that now but in Nate's sober (albeit mildly hungover) state, he knew what kind of mistake this was. Or, at least, somewhere deep inside him was a little voice screaming about what a bad idea this was. Dei had... destroyed Evie beyond belief. Nate had... destroyed Amy in a similar manner. He'd left that relationship relatively unscathed (it was Amy, after all, she couldn't do much damage), but with endless amounts of guilt that had weighed down on him for months on end. Up until the fair, really, when he'd finally run into Amy and she'd taken that burden of guilt off his shoulders and tossed it aside.

Amy had forgiven him. Amy had even said that he wasn't that bad of a boyfriend, in fact, she'd used the word amazing. And maybe that was part of why he felt okay taking this leap again, even though he knew that eventually he'd land and it wouldn't be a soft landing -- he'd land on spikes, and he'd be pierced through the heart again, and he'd go to begrudgingly hating Evie just as he'd hated Amy.

He knew how this would end, because they were still young and dumb and in high school, and nothing good ever came out of high school relationships.

Despite all of these ill thoughts that were tugging at the back of his thoughts, he swallowed, his lips growing from a tentative smile into something a little stronger, a little more confident, until he looked a little more sure of himself and of this relationship.

"Yeah," he said, his voice wavering for a moment. "I... yeah, yeah, I'd like that. I'm in."

This had to easily be the worst getting together story that there was, but Nate didn't really care because he could call Evelyn Sinclaire his girlfriend.

Something that had only been a dream for a couple weeks... was now a strange reality.

It felt unreal.

"You know everyone is gonna have something to say about us, right? I mean, we have basically been the anti-relationship spokespeople and now here we are," she laughed.

Nate chuckled again, his gaze snapping down to the table where his fingers were still nervously tapping. Well, there was nothing to be nervous about now, so he forced the nervous jittering to stop.

"Yeah, I know, but..." he shrugged. "Oh well, I guess..."

He hated having any kind of spotlight on him, but it looked like he was just... going to have to suck it up and get used to it. He was dating Evie SInclaire, after all, and Nate knew what came with dating someone like her. It meant being in the limelight, in a way, because everyone knew Evie. There was no avoiding that, there was no keeping their relationship private -- he knew every little detail would be known by nearly everyone.

Nate was... fine with that, though.

It would keep him from fucking up as much. Hopefully.

At least with the elephant in the room now gone, the two of them could actually talk, so they hung out for a while longer. As their conversation continued, Nate felt himself relaxing, and smiling, and just--

Here was his first date.

With his new girlfriend.

Holy fuck that didn't... that didn't feel... that just... it didn't feel real.

Eventually, they headed out and Nate did all of the good boyfriend things -- you know, holding the door open for her and everything. He fumbled around with his pockets, feeling around for his keys, before he finally managed to find them and pull them out. He cast an easygoing smile in Evie's direction as he waited for her to catch back up to him from her car, and then they walked towards his.

"Have you ever been to this museum? I've heard good things about it but I've never gotten the chance to check it out," she said.

"Uhh..." he let out a small, embarrassed laugh, the hand that wasn't clenching his keys going to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah, I uhh... first day I got here, actually. I didn't know anyone, you know," Nate started to explain as he walked to the driver's side of his car, unlocking it and climbing in before he continued the story as he pulled his car door shut and clicked his seatbelt into place. "Heard about the art museum, had to check it out because... ya know..." he gestured to himself before placing his keys in the ignition, "art is kind of my thing. Don't know if you heard."

Nate laughed again.

He was laughing too much.

"It was... well, it's stupid, but I uhh... when I was real little," Nate started back up -- and this was probably the most the guy had talked since he'd... well, ever. Nate wasn't much of a talker, you know, or much of one to talk about his past. "Like... real little, still doodling things in the dirt with a stick," he explained, lifting his hand up to indicate, ya know, how tall he'd been except they were in the car, so it didn't have quite the same effect.

"Well, I uhh..." he trailed off again as he backed the car out of its parking space, momentarily losing his train of thought as he pulled out onto the road but, once they were good and on their way (and yeah, he knew how to get to the museum -- Nate visited a lot), "I uh... what was... oh yeah, I always wanted..." he laughed again, shaking his head at the pure silliness of the thought in his head, of what he'd wanted as a little kid.

"I wanted to be this uhh... big painter, ya know? Like Picasso or something. I wanted, like... my dream was to have... something... of mine in a... museum or something. Somewhere big, somewhere that everyone would see."

Nate chuckled again, shaking his head at the memory of how dumb he'd been as a kid.

You know, back when he'd thought he could be a real somebody.

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:
tfw he won't support your lies

@damien.slayter has interacted with:
Felix, Javi

@damien.slayter has mentioned:
N/A

@damien.slayter has tagged:
ohdittoh hery ​

Slater was quick to decide that if him and Felix hadn't had all of those years of friendship behind them, if Damien hadn't... felt close to Felix or even the tiniest bit of loyalty... he'd be dropping him so fast because this little fucker was going to cramp his style.

And the last thing you needed was your style getting cramped when you were just starting out at a new school. Damien wondered briefly if the irritability was visible in his eyes as he glared over at Felix, eyes narrowed darkly, his eyebrows furrowed together. He was staring daggers at the boy and if this was a cool superhero movie, Felix would be pulverized by the lasers shooting out of Slater's eyes.

Pew pew pew.

Yeah, it was totally everyone else that was fucking up his chances of getting laid and not Damien's fault at all.

“I like to think I’m like a lil’...dunno, animal assistant, like in those Disney movies. Isn’t that a more pleasant way to look at it? I’m your Thumper, or somethin’,” he said. “Plus, I’m great for holdin’ drinks and personal belongings durin’ your...uh...seduction.”

All Damien could really do was look at Felix, lips parted, his eyebrows drawn together, as he slowly shook his head from side to side in a very what the fuck type of manner as he tried to make sense of what his friend had just said. No, no, Damien wasn't sure he wanted to claim him as a friend anymore. He'd just claim him as a uhh... drug connoisseur. No, wait, that made absolutely no sense. He was like a uhhh....

....

Damien forgot what his thought process even was.

"Felix, dude," Slater started, shaking his head in disappointment. He reached out a hand, grabbing Felix's shoulder and giving him a little shake. "Never, ever, call yourself my Thumper in front of other people, alright?" He pulled his hand away from Felix's shoulder, and pressed it against his chest. "I've got a reputation, and this is a new school, so I gotta... bro, I'm starting from fucking scratch. And people are gonna get the wrong idea with you calling yourself my Thumper, okay?"

It was like dealing with a toddler, except Damien didn't get paid to deal with this shit.

He almost wished his whole fucking story about looking out for Felix was true now, because he'd probably be making mad bank from that.... although he didn't really need the money, so... there was that.

it would be nice to have his time spent with Felix realized and rewarded, though.

(Yeah, he didn't consider drugs or the joy of friendship as payment enough.)

"You're not abandoning me now that ol' Blondie's back, are you?" Javi started, and drew Slater out of his reverie. "I've always been there for you this past month or so, Slutter, compadre."

He looked back from Felix towards Javi, his hand dropping away from his chest to his side. Slater gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know, man," he started to speak, his words slow as his mind moved a hundred miles an hour. There were... so many good ways that Damien could spin this shit so that he could come out on top. Better shit, maybe for less money? Then he could afford to buy more, and if he could afford to buy more...

He could hookup hot druggies...

Damien tried to contain his giddy smile.

"It's a small price to pay for the Javier hospitality," Javi said, and Slater watched as his moved around Felix's shoulders. Javi could probably crush Felix like a bug if he really wanted to, and Damien briefly wondered if that's the point that Javi was trying to get across."If we can all manage it, I'd love to forge some kumbaya bullshit with you fine gentlemen. I'll try to be good."

Kumbaya? What the fuck?

"Kumbaya, my Lord?" Felix said, which just earned another what the fuck type of expression from an irritated Slater.

And then Javi went reaching into Slater's pocket, and his first thought was oh fuck, my drugs, and he went to smack at Javi's arm, but then he felt him just pat his wallet and Damien... relaxed... slightly. Although he quirked an eyebrow in Javi's direction, his expression still holding onto that familiar expression of what the fuck is happening as he glared in Javi's direction as the fuck removed his hand from Slater's pocket.

Fucking weirdo.

"I may be a little rough around the edges... and dumb, but I'm a reasonable businessman. And, uh, friend, I fuckin' love negotiating. It's my shit." Javi said, and all Slater could think about was how dumb was an understatement. More like a Class A Moron.

"Well," Felix began as he pulled away from Javi and back to Damien's side, "the more you talk, the more I like ya, my man." Although his voice was casual, Damien was wondering if that was all just an act. Felix wouldn't be that chill about competition, would he? "I think they call this the sproutin' of a healthy business relationship and a friendship, yeah?"

Felix was so fucking weird.

He looked back towards Slater. “Oh, Slater, by the way...” he said, and gave him a pat on the back. “You’re my ride, so...”

Oh, right. This was supposed to be a really quick like... fucking dip in, grab his fucking drugs, and peace the fuck out kind of shit. Instead, it had kind of taken a turn and ended up being way fucking longer than Slater had intended.

"Right," he started and looked towards Javi. Slater gave him a little dip of the head, his hands sliding back into his pockets to fondle the drugs that he'd just received. "We're gonna head out, but I'll catch ya later, Javier. Same place next week?" He asked, cracking a grin and letting out a little laugh to let Javi know that he was kidding... mostly kidding. Who knew how long this shit would last him?

(The answer was probably not long at all.)

"Alright, let's go," he said and turned on his heel. With Felix in tow, Slater started walking back the way they had come. He glanced over his shoulder once or twice until he determined that Javi was relatively out of earshot, and then he decided to start speaking again.

"So what'd you think? He's kind of a fucking dumbass, am I right?"

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 place -> Cafe

@He.went.2.Jared has mentioned:
N/A

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

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Seeing her face appear from the door with her classic sweet smile made him...hesitant. A part of him wanted to roll his eyes, the other felt...he wasn't sure. It could be nerves? Not that she made him nervous, no he couldn't care less about her at the moment. Nervous about the situation they were putting themselves in? Jared was a lot of things, and a lot of them weren't actually that great. He knew that deep down, he just usually didn't care seeing it as necessity for the life he wanted for himself...but he was always honest. This was more then just omitting information or taking it from a different angel, or finding loop-holes...this was an illusion, a lie. Maybe that's why he felt something in the pit of his stomach as his eyes landed on that smile. Because he knew. He knew it was fake.

Maybe he shouldn't view it like that, it's not like the girl before him wasn't usually smiling. In fact...was she ever not? Anyways. the cause of it was the false part. The intention behind them being in front of one another was to deceive. Jared believed he could put on the act for the cameras and social media and their so called friends...but to keep it up in private? Moments like this when technically it's just them? Was he supposed to play the role then too? Was he supposed to actually let her like him? Seemed like an easy way to blur lines, and that would make things messy.

He had no interest in this becoming some drama filled scandal, or either of them catching feelings for the other. Jared didn't date. Not because he couldn't get a date, or because he didn't like to. He just didn't see the need before. He could have his fun with who he wanted without the string of all the quirks that came with dating like being accountable to someone. He always figured he'd start dating for real once he was established in his own name and ready to make the real commitment of marriage.

Did he believe in love? Possibly? He'd never thought much on the matter, and no one has ever made him feel like most describe it to be like. But marrying had many benefits. Finding someone to compliment yourself, like Jay-Z and Beyoncé. Someone to help him build an empire, a legacy with. That sounded good to him. The added emotions that apparently came with it seemed more of a bonus. To bad it was hard to find people who matched his energy, his level, his mentality, his status. It was a bit easier here at HA. There were technically a few that checked all the boxes, but none had really checked the emotional box, and as originally stated he didn't see the need to pursue right now.

With that in mind...No. When it was just them she would see him for who he was. Or at least he'd give her a taste. Just enough to remind her that this was business not personal. It was doing her a favor in the long run. Didn't want her accidently catching feelings for someone who didn't exist. It was the only generosity he knew that he could honestly give her.

He looked her over a moment as she complimented him, "Nice choice. The color suits you." He replied simply trying not to sound bored. Being a part of the Plastics department the past year had given him a boost in his understanding of fashion. Something he didn't think he needed, but turned out to be useful. He decided that while it was just the two of them, they'd made these plans on twitter so anyone could potentially be watching them already. He took her hand in his as he lead the way back to his car, "Beignets? Is that a favorite dish or something?" He asked hoping it sounded curious. She seemed to be a bit nervous. Or at least not completely like he's seen her at school when around her friends. It was odd to him since it's not like this is their first time out.

He leaded her to his car and opens the door for her. Once she was secured in he got in himself and entered the address she'd given to him into the GPS. Luckily she was right it was close. Before starting the car he unlocked his phone and handed it to her, "You can play whatever you like, it's blue-toothed to the car." He'd prefer to just listen to music then make small talk right now. That could wait, plus...what was there to say?

In what seemed like a flash they arrived and he just like at her place got out and opened the door for her, and landed them a table by the window. A good view for multiple reasons. Now they could have their obligatory small talk, "Did you have fun last night?" He asked looking down at the menu.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

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

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

@Fire&Ash has interacted with:
Trevor

@Fire&Ash has mentioned:
N/A

@Fire&Ash has tagged:
ohdittoh ​

It was strange, in a way, that they could jump between being relatively okay with one another and to being relaxed, and talking about... whatever random stories popped into Trevor's head, to the... yelling -- or, well, last night had been kind of a uhh... like... a special occasion, right? More or less it hadn't been a... normal... reality. It had been a little blip, but her point remained. Hopping between the relatively okay to tense, teetering on the edge of not okay at all as if it was nothing. It... was... strange, to have a boyfriend that could brush everything under the rug and move on as if nothing had happened.

She liked it, though. Ash had grown used to the idea that fights didn't end so easily, or with either party admitting they were at fault, or... with the ability to move on to just quietly sitting on the couch, talking about nothing and everything at once.

It was a good strange, even if she felt unsure of her footing and how to react, or what to say, but that was normal for Ash... kind of. Usually the girl didn't run out of things to say, or find her tongue twisted up inside of her mouth, or mind blanking and frozen as it tried to piece together how to react, but something about Trevor made all of those typical traits of Ash fall away so she was more of a stuttering, unsure, empty minded version of herself.

He gave another long winded story about his cast or something? And remarked that she was lucky for not celebrating birthdays. Ash didn't... really have an answer or a response to that. Sure, she'd had parties, but they were usually like... really small things with the twins and Cap, and a couple of her other New York friends that hadn't made the trip to LA. You know, the friends that weren't basically considered family (but that she definitely still kept in touch with and visited when she would go back home for the holidays). Anyway, it hadn't been like her birthdays had been bad, but they hadn't been good.

They had just been another day, so who was she to say if Trevor was right or wrong when she didn't have the experience to back it?

The conversation shifted away from that, back to the movie that she didn't understand, though.

“Oh, this part?” he asked. “It’s where…”

Although he trailed off rather quickly, Ash had picked up on that. She looked back at him, one eyebrow quirking up while an amused smile graced her lips. Oh yeah, he had totally seen this movie before. As if his earlier reactions and random knowledge of it hadn't been enough to solidify this for her, his vocal slipup was enough to cement it in stone for her. Trevor was totally into dumb romance movies.

Ash wasn't sure what to do with that information, but at least it would make any kind of movie dates easier if they, you know... had the same taste in movies.

“There’s a Wikipedia fer a reason, right?” he said.

She let out a sigh. "I'm not going to Wikipedia the plot of a movie. Like... who does that?" Ash asked with a shake of her head. No, she'd just try watching it again, and again, ang again, until eventually she wasn't distracted or had something pop up halfway through that inevitably ended her movie-watching experience. No, she would make sure that watched it one day and not read like... a bad description of the plot on Wikipedia.

And then, he asked what she'd been silently waiting for, because sticking around at home was so freaking boring, and her eyes lit up a bit, a wistful smile plastered across her face.

“I mean, it’s not too late ta leave, ya know. Rachel, tha chariot of tha gods, waits out front, should we want ta leave.” He gave her a slight grin. “An’, like I said…I’ll do whatever you want ta, ‘cuz tha only thin’ that I really wanna do is…be wit’ you.” He said, adding a “blah, blah, blah, an’ other gushy shite” before looking back at her. “My keys're right where I left ‘em…you wanna go somewhere?”

Did she wanna go somewhere?

Or did she want to stay here in the gloomy apartment, staring at a blank television screen, on the stupid couch that had seen the entirety of their relationship from first awkward makeout session to getting together to... whatever today was, with the faint scent of weed and the overpowering scent of Axe body spray in the air?

(Okay, to be fair, the smell kind of came with the... ahem, boyfriend, and she did realize this.)

"Yeah, I wanna go somewhere," she said, and all of the previous tension seemed to dissipate from her body as she moved away from Trevor's arm, unfolding her legs as she hopped off of the couch and stood up. "Like, I don't know where, but we can figure that out," she paused mid-speech, taking a moment to lean down to Trevor and place a gentle kiss on his lips before straightening back up, and continue her thoughts.

"Like, we can always like... watch a movie or whatever some other time," Ash continued with a dismissive wave of her hand towards the black screen behind her. "If I wanna finish The Notebook," she said the name of the movie in a slightly mocking voice, with a little roll of her eyes, more out of frustration that the movie was simply cursed, "I'll just wait until like... the next time Javi gets super drunk and ends up staying the night." She explained, not even really realizing what she had said, the words slipping out with another roll of her eyes as she smiled down at Trevor.

Her gaze shifted across his clothing choice for the day. Growing up with the mother that she had, well... Ash's mother would've had her head if she ever came out of her bedroom in something similar to what Trevor was wearing, especially if there was anyone over.

Ash would've been -- and probably still would be if her mother knew -- if she went out in something like that.

"Do you wanna change your clothes first?" She asked, nodding towards the... horrible getup that was just sweatpants and a t-shirt.

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