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

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. dominicka abrams .


mood: ...

outfit: casual wear

location: outside

mentions: n/a

interactions: ash & hunter

tags: Winona Winona natsukashii natsukashii

EVERYTHING BURNED.

Her throat, her eyes, her skin, her chest.

Everything burned.

A second felt like an hour. Ash moved in slow motion.

Nickie’s heart slammed in her ear with a thud.

Ash’s arms were closing around her small body, her nails slowly digging into her skin— and Nickie could feel it herself, could feel those nails as if they were digging into her own.

Thud.

Ash was turning as if she were moving through jello. Her feet then her body rotated.

Thud.

It was catharsis, seeing it, but it was also pain and stress and regret.

And Ash’s feet fell like a giant’s, her steps amplified by Nickie’s adrenaline-fueled tunnel vision.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

She watched behind her— watched her turn and go, probably to go cry and vomit and loathe herself into a toilet.

And Nickie felt that numbness crawl in— a solid indifference to what was happening.

And slowly, the burn in her chest subsided.

And slowly, the burn in her throat did, too.

And the burning and blurriness in her sight went away.

It felt like it took forever, to relax, to let go of that tension, to drop everything.

But it couldn’t have been too long, because Nickie was releasing a breath that she had held as she watched.

When she drew in her new one, time seemed to go back into its normal flow, and Nickie blinked. She moved her fingers, moved her feet. She looked around, up and down.

And what happened a few moments ago felt...fake. Unreal.

And it was like it didn’t happen.

“I need to find Hunter,” she mumbled to herself, her expression and thoughts and feelings devoid of...anything, really.

Nickie was just...numb again.

She felt as though she was feeling her way through an unfamiliar cave as she walked through the hallway, past the peers who she cared so much about the thoughts of just...ten? Fifteen...? Some minutes ago. And now, towards them, she felt nothing. They were strangers, grey figures in the darkness, and she was indifferent to them, more focused on...making it to the end of the cave than anything, even though she had no plan for what would come when she arrived.

And then...well, she arrived, and there was Hunter, the boy who was her boyfriend, the boy who she had promised to meet up with but had...what? Broken down..? Gotten psyched out...? Something before she could catch up to.

And a smile pulled at her face, pretty and relaxed, and she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to get him to turn around.

“Hey, babe,” she said, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Sorry that I’m late.”


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
MOOD: locked in

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school
basics
MENTIONS:
Alex, Seb

INT:
Winona Winona (Adriane)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Chas Marino
Chas had an infallible business sense; it came with being an heir to a CEO and reality television mogul. Partnering with Alex for the Winter Arts Festival would be a risky endeavor, but it would have been riskier to piece something together with only Chas' dying muse. The rest of their brunch went on as one would expect, with more uneaten salad and a whole host of debate over the value of this "teamwork" thing Chas apparently had to work on.

He'd let Alex rope him into her little collaborative project, just to see. Naturally, he could have put together a film project all on his own, but this new course held a sliver of hidden potential. Chas did not at all hesitantly accept the offer out of the fear that he'd have no project come December. No way. After exchanging just a few more sarcastic remarks, Alex and Chas parted ways, and he realized, much to his dismay, that he was still famished. After all this negotiation, Chas decided that perhaps he deserved some well-earned Taco Bell.

Plus, he had bigger fish to try. In the coming week, Chas' most nagging fears surfaced in the form of a bittersweet goodbye with Seb. Unlike the majority of the happenings of his life, their widely-awaited split as a couple was underwhelming—jarringly so. Chas had fully expected his first relationship to end in tears, shouting, and a slew of tabloids preying on his dismay for a juicy headline. That very hint of quiet normalcy shook him to his core, and he was left with an unfamiliar numbness as he gave his now-ex-boyfriend his solemn goodbyes.

The simple, true story was that Seb had to leave Los Angeles for his "health". He'd offhandedly mentioned a brief stay at a psych ward, maybe? Chas had been curious as to why he hadn't heard from him over the weekend, but for once he didn't go so far as to investigate. He wasn't the type to be clingy, excessively concerned for anyone other than himself. Every time he was, everyone's first criticism for him was that he was overbearing and controlling, yet it seemed he'd somehow pushed the one true confidant he had left away. Maybe the right move really was to not get involved in the end.

Seb reasoned over and over that none of it was Chas' fault and that he'd been going through shit far before they'd ever so much as looked at one another, but... How could he accept that as the truth? How was he to ever deny the extent to which the chaos plaguing his life seeped into Seb's? Then again, perhaps it was too self-centered to hog all the blame. Chas couldn't make heads or tails of any sort of problem he wasn't aware of and couldn't solve on his own, and his frustration melted into sorrow as he realized there was nothing he could do for someone who had made him so happy, even if only for a passing autumn.

It wasn't fair to be upset. The strength Seb showed in calmly relaying his departure to Chas drew nothing but admiration for him. He looked up to (yes, in more ways than one) a reasonable, level-headed guy like Seb who had the courage to put something good on hold for the greater good. He had to go, and as much as Chas wanted to grab him and never let go again, there was a silent moment in which both reached a mutual understanding. It was something that had to happen, but that wasn't to say that none of it was meant to be.

Behind a pesky sheet of tears was a pair of tired eyes losing the will to melt down. He'd never have forgiven himself if he didn't lend his waning strength to Seb, yet as his companion turned to leave for the last time, the lump in Chas' throat did a backflip. A surge of pain, regret, and longing coursed through his veins, culminating in a crescendo of despair that subsided with a newfound sense of peace. It was a numb, fractured peace, but all in those few moments Chas accepted that there were simply some things he could never control.

He smiled a crooked smile, crossing his fingers that one day the pair would be fated to cross paths once more. After all, it wasn't as though they'd changed phone numbers... Chas would work up the courage to contact him again one day, maybe. That was the product of the firm resolve that Seb had lent him.

At least, Seb would know where to find him after his roaring film debut.

The next hurdle was dodging the speculation at school. Of course everyone's first thoughts were that Chas had driven him insane; even Chas himself initially presumed the same. As one final thanks to the boy who had shown him a world of humility and grace separate from his fragile ego and crushing expectations, Chas vehemently denied the rumors to the best of his capability. Maybe Seb wanted a quiet departure—no, he definitely wanted that—but Chas could never have sat and let it fester then pass. It just wasn't in his nature, and he had to hope that Seb understood that.

The days following that sorrowful Monday were thankfully quiet, at least on Chas' part. Some drama seemed to be circulating about the school, but for once, he didn't really have the mind to stick his nose in it. It wasn't for any reason as noble as honoring Seb's kindness or preventing more hurt; he simply couldn't find the energy to insert himself into another emotionally-draining pit of gossip and lies.

Instead, he cruised by to the weekend, focusing his reserved energy on the beginnings of the film project and his own little surprise. Nothing fed Chas' inhibitions and stress like success and vengeance, and these preparations would hopefully feed just that. He was weary, overworked, and somewhat over it all, but the charade would continue despite all the heartbreak and fatigue. The show would go on, and Chas would be the star if it was the last thing he did.

Nothing would ever let him lose sight of that, even if he had to slog through Hell and beyond to get there. Where he received closure for one situation, Chas felt a budding opportunity to resolve another thorn in his side. He somewhat thought of it as a little treat for himself, which was well-deserved after the shit he started getting for Seb and the feelings of worthlessness that came with it. Inaction was a death sentence Chas intended to avoid for a long, long time.

Pulling up to the school, Chas swung the unlocked door to the cafeteria open. Of course, he could have gotten in with his own spare key as student body president, but he supposed he'd let Dalton and Nate the supposed "key thieves" have this minor victory. A smirk spread across his face in contemplating the stupidity of his peers. Oh, how satisfying it would finally be to taste the regret of all those who had the nerve to step on him and kick him while he was down.

Chas was up on top, and that would never change again.

(If that wasn't already made clear enough.)

Across the gym was Adriane, the lovely queen of Purgatory herself. She'd make a useful pawn for this operation, and a cover for the fact that Chas had no one worthwhile to hang around during the Lock-in. The rich boy shuddered at the thought of being perceived as a loner by any of his sorry excuses for classmates. Adriane was somewhat of a repellent for irrelevant ants, which greatly saved Chas the time of personally crushing them under his heel.

"Good evening, Miss Whoreoway," he said pridefully, checking for dirt under his nails as he approached his roommate and best friend, "Scare off all the children? How fitting for you, forever cursed to be alone by your abrasiveness." He stopped beside the girl, his eyes still fixed on the whites of his nails. "You weren't just going to loiter about idly all night, hmm? Is this all you've been up to?"

He cleared his throat, eventually turning and facing Adriane. "At any rate..." he began with a sigh, scanning the gym, "I need you for something. You don't look like you have plans."
code by valen t.
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    awkward but trying to break the tension

















Madelaine Harlow



the model ~ 17 ~ Senior












Awkward. That's what the last few days had been. You know that moment when you saw something you weren't supposed to see but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't...unsee it. Yeah, that's how this felt. Like Maddie had stumbled upon some big secret Corey had been hiding and now they were both trying to pretend it hadn't been uncovered.

Only, there was no secret. Well, not unless you counted the weird Gen and Corey fling thing that Gen had so kindly blasted on Twitter. It was mostly just this looming tension for no reason. That's what they get for participating in stupid truth or dare online. Honestly, Maddie should've known better but she'd been so easily roped in and at the time it sounded fun but now she definitely regretted it.

Things were going fine until they weren't. Suddenly people wouldn't let up on subtly (and not so subtly) trying to make something more out of her and Corey's friendship. It wasn't like Maddie hadn't heard comments before, someone always had something to say or makeup but when Corey didn't let it go...that's what made it feel different.

Was there some secret that she didn't know? Was he just being Corey and overdoing it? Was she looking too deep into the whole thing? It didn't matter. It had managed to make things tense between the normally happy-go-lucky pair and it was pretty obvious too.

Despite it, they had decided to go to the lock-in together as they had originally planned so maybe that would help. After all, nothing could really break the bond they had. Especially not some silly game...right?

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I am." she nodded as the car came to a halt and Corey's voice cut through the silence. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she reached into the backseat and grabbed the small bag she'd packed for the night before getting out. Yes, for a model Madelaine packed surprisingly light. Her mother probably would've made a list of a hundred things she should've brought. Luckily her mother was unaware of the lock-in.

For the first few steps they walked without a word, the same way they had sat in the car on the ride to the school but after a while, Maddie couldn't take it anymore. "What do you wanna do? First I mean. There has to be, uh, something we can do. Something fun?" she questioned. Why did this feel like they had just met ten minutes ago? It was almost painful.

"I packed some silly string and water balloons. I don't know why but," she shrugged letting her words trail off.












































♡coded by uxie♡
 
MOOD:
just chilling

OUTFIT:
Jacket & shirt
sweatpants & shoes
​
INFO
LOCATION:
somewhere at school idk

WITH:
Nate Woods

MENTION:
Evie, Gen, Landon, Chanel​
ACTIVITY
Winona Winona
TAGS
cappie
Cappie slightly snorted out a laugh at Nathan’s little joke. “Dang, you work fast. You’re already one step closer to getting an Oscar nomination now.”

He found it amusing how people who aren’t professional actors think it was simple. Even before having professional experience, he understood it wasn’t an easy or glamorous career path. It’s definitely not kind to those who weren’t already rich, or don’t have a plethora of networking connections, or don’t have enough luck. Traveling overseas to make several scenes for one movie taught him how exhausting it can be. And don’t get him started on the hectic schedule, or the near-constant rejections, lack of financial stability, etc.

To sum it up: being an actor was hard. Even the movie La La Land shows it.

So, there was some tension going on between Nate and Landon. Cappie had never seen anyone eat a piece of granola in such a broody way before.

"He'll get over it or he'll suck it up and learn to deal with it… Right?"

He never understood the taboo of one’s siblings dating their friends. Actually, he understood a little bit, based on Gen’s rule about her siblings and friends not allowed to date each other—something about conflict of loyalty. But other than that, Cappie believed people should get too worked up over it unless for a very good, justifiable reason. Like, it’s not the end of the world if your sister or brother starts sleeping or dating one of your friends. Maybe it was due to his laid-back nature. Personally, he preferred his siblings to date someone that he knows instead of a complete stranger.

“Well…” Cappie started, musing how to reply seriously—it would be inconsiderate of him to constantly poke fun at someone in this type of conundrum. “Well, in my opinion, Landon should get over it eventually. I hope so. His sister’s her own person and old enough to make her decisions. She has a right to sleep or date with whoever she wants, as long as she doesn’t get seriously hurt or anything.

“Just so you know, I’m not gonna pretend I know the entire story of what’s been going on with you guys,” he added. “Maybe since you’ve been... intimately involved with Evie, Landon’s just protective of her, in his own way. Probably. He is her brother, so I guess it’s natural that he is… Or he’s dealing with shit of his own. Maybe something to do with his recent break-up with Chanel or whatever. I dunno.” He shrugged dismissively. “I hope you guys get a chance to really talk soon.”

Placing the granola trail mix beside Nate so he could continue getting more (hopefully, he doesn’t finish it too soon), Cappie took out a notebook with scratchy, chaotic scribbles, a pen, and his smartphone.

“By the way, what’s your Lit friend’s film about? I wanna make sure I don’t end up getting the same idea and sued for unintentional plagiarism. Y’know, for the Arts Festival.”
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:

Mikaela Ainsley
How are you feeling?
Time to have fun and just let loose
What are you wearing?
Outfit
Where are you?
School
Did you mention anyone?
Felix, Cami, Elias, Tilly
Who are you talking to?
Magnolia
And, like, tagging?
@Kitsune2202
Mikaela had heard a fair bit about lock in from here and there as the event had neared and the more she heard of it, the more she liked it.

Apparently it was a night for the students to break into school and get up to whatever they wished, and if it wasn't obvious from the fact that it was a 'break in', the only thing students would be getting up to tonight would be trouble or hookups or something of that variety. In other words, the perfect night for her to just let loose and go crazy without having to worry as much.

Most people would probably be too busy getting into their own trouble to care and there would be far less questions if you were caught getting into trouble or going a little wild in the name of fun. Even model students let their hair down every now and then, not that she was one, but having a convenient excuse to pull out in case one of her friends who were not as aware of her 'wilder activities' caught her in action would certainly be useful.

Still she'd rather not be caught by Elias, Cami, or Tilly, any of her old friends who were used to the old her. The one who would never have done any of the things she was about to. The her that was...dead.

Mikaela smiled wryly as she glanced out the window of their uber ride, fiddling with the bracelet on her hand. She'd been lucky when her missing bag of drugs had decided to make a very untimely appearance, that Felix, her roommate and the one who caught her with them, was a dealer. It would be preferable if tonight went off without a hitch because she did not want to test her luck again.

One scare a week was more than enough for her.

That's why it was nice to have friends like Maggie, people she could hang out with, chill, go a little wild and not have as many questions to deal with. People who were more likely to accept her excuse that she just wanted to have fun and try some of the things she couldn't and wouldn't back when she was an athlete. Always having to hide and pretend was tiring and going wild alone didn't have the same effect as when you went wild with other people.

She could feel the rush from the shots they had taken earlier at her place and the one she was downing now in the backseat of their ride, between laughs and chuckles at Maggie's rowdy antics. The driver definitely had to be regretting picking them up at this point. If he wasn't then he was a saint because she probably couldn't handle rowdy Maggie herself if she were sober.

She grinned as they pulled to a stop outside school and Maggie hopped out, turning around to hand her one of her last bottles as Mikaela herself exited the car. The door had barely been closed a couple of seconds before their driver made a break for it and disappeared off into the night. The act pulled a peal of laughter from Mikaela as she raised the bottle to Maggie. "Cheers to an awesome night indeed." She smiled as she tossed back the shot, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat.

Nowadays it was sensations like these that made her feel alive, like she wasn't just a shell trudging through a desert simply because the clock wouldn't stop ticking and the world wouldn't stop moving.

"So Mags, you're the experienced one. Where should we start? Beyond getting into the school of course." She chuckled as she took a step forward, nearly losing her balance, though whether it was from her leg acting up or the alcohol in her system, she couldn't really tell.

"Woah." She threw her hands out in front of her, catching herself before she could begin her lock in night with an embarrassing fall. Her choice of footwear was definitely not the smartest idea but she couldn't be bothered with being smart anymore, certainly not tonight.

"Safe!" Mikaela called out, mimicking a baseball umpire as she straightened herself. "Phew, that was a close call there. Nothing like a near brush with disaster to kick off a night huh?" She grinned at Maggie before continuing her way towards the door, the ground steadier beneath her feet.

"Any lock in musts or recommendations our fun expert would like to share?" She called out teasingly as she waited by the door, fiddling again with the bracelet with one hand and twirling the empty bottle with the other.



º º code by ditto º º​
 
Hunter Drake
"DYNAMITE LIKE TNT!"
@HuntNLove has set their status to:
Dynamite and ready to blow shit up

@HuntNLove has set their outfit to:
Sleepover ready

@HuntNLove has set their location to:
Hollywood Arts Parking Lot

@HuntNLove has mentioned:
Dei (final time), Chas, Ash

@HuntNLove has interacted with:
Nickie

@HuntNLove has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh
For a while, Hunter was roaming mostly around the edge of the school and parking lot. When he saw Ash depart, he kept thinking about her for a few prolonged minutes. Thinking about how long it's been since they've actually hung out as they did. It may have been just briefly and probably wouldn't happen for a while mostly because it seemed like their respective lives were getting busier the closer that they came to the end of the semester, which was still a couple of months off, but Hunter couldn't ignore the fact that most of his friends were becoming increasingly busy.

And that's what brought him to thinking about Kordei. Since he was another person who he hasn't really seen much of. And somewhere deep down where he always heard his brother's voice in his head, Hunter didn't know if that was a good thing or not. For the longest time, he aimed to be like Dei, aimed to mimic his luck with the girls, be a lot like him so much that he sacrificed what made him truly special.

Maybe it was in the moment, but he had something of a clarity-like breakthrough. Being alone allowed him to come to terms that maybe he wasn't so much like Dei. His evidence?

Well, as she came walking up to him, looking so radiant with her dark hair and blue eyes that he'd recognize, that was Hunter's evidence why he was nothing like Kordei Grant. And hell, while he's at it, he wasn't like Chas either. For as much as he loves and looks up to Chas, it's apparent that Hunter was someone different. He knew he was flawed, but seeing Nickie looking so beautiful and knowing that he'd see her in that light regardless of their surroundings or what she was wearing, Hunter knew that's what separated him from Dei and Chas.

And before she walked up and kissed him on his cheek, Hunter knew he couldn't stay at the loft anymore. He'd have to move out and he would do it before next week.

“Hey, babe,” she said, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Sorry that I’m late.”

Hunter felt the need to hug his girlfriend. And he did. He wrapped his arms around her in what he knew would be a sudden change in his demeanor on Nickie's side since he didn't give her any warning. He lifted her up using the strength in his arms, locking his hands behind her waist, securing her in his arms, and he just hugged her as tight as he could without, ya know, damaging her spleen.

And then a few moments later, he let her down. "Don't ever worry about it!" He kissed her deeply, maybe throwing her or not -- who knew. He just had to kiss her and he did by grabbing the sides of her face. "I'm just so happy you're here. I've had an epiphany, baby. Like the kind that really opens your eyes. And I'm ready to tackle this Lock-In with a fresh set of eyes!"


º º code by ditto º º
 


. dominicka abrams .


mood: ...

outfit: casual wear

location: outside

mentions: ash

interactions: hunter

tags: natsukashii natsukashii

NICKIE WASN'T feeling— or maybe she was. Maybe she was just feeling so much that she couldn’t help but feel…ugh.

Ugh; that was the best way to put it.

There was an emptiness that came over her after…”moments”. Silence internally where she couldn’t think about what had happened or what was going to happen or what she was doing or feeling or…or anything.

She always got in this weird situation after…”outbursts”. She reached a kind of…plateau. It was as if she had climbed some kind of mountain and had reached the top, and now she was staring off of the precipice, down at the people below, down at her emotions, down at everything that had just happened and everything that she had just felt.

And they all looked small, so small that she could hardly perceive them, and she felt…disconnected.

Dissociation was probably a better word for it…but it wasn’t— wasn’t like that— or wasn’t that…bad.

She didn’t know. She was just…ugh.

And Hunter…turned to her, smiling.

And…she didn’t…feel…much of anything…except for a bit of anger, tugging at the back of her mind.

He pulled her into his arms, a gesture that would usually make her soar, make her heart thud erratically, make her cheeks flush, but she…

She wanted to pull away, wanted to sink into herself, wanted to disappear. The smile on her face grew falser and weaker by the second.

He lifted her, locked his hands behind her waist, and hugged her tightly— so tightly that she felt like she was going to suffocate.

Suffocate.

Suffocate.

Suffocate.

Anger, bile. For some reason, it tried to bite at her, tried to rip at her neck, and she wanted to lash out and yank back.

She felt tears pricking at her eyes again, and her breathing felt heavy.

Oh, fuck, it was a terrible idea to come out here— to see him.

Oh, fuck.

The ugh was subsiding in his arms, but it was giving way to…Nickie.

To Nickie, in all of her disgusting behavior.

To Nickie— in her raw form.

She was disgusting, ugly, angry, wanted to cry, wanted to—

Wanted to tell him to fuck off, let go, leave her alone.

Like Ash did. Like she yelled at Ash for.

He let her down, and she stepped back a few steps, curling her arms around herself, her brows furrowing and her fake smile growing tighter as her glassy eyes struggled to stay focused on Hunter.

"Don't ever worry about it!" he said, in an overly cheerful voice.

Oh, fuck, she was so nauseated.

Why the hell was he so excited?

He leaned down and kissed her deeply, and she wanted to step back, wanted to…to…fuck. She—

She wanted to yell at him.

She wanted to ask why the hell he was so happy out here, why he was so welcoming to her— when she had felt so damn alone inside, when she had just—

Fuck.

She wanted to demand—

Why the fuck are you so happy?

This isn’t like you.

Change right now— change right now— was…

Was more than pissing her off.

It was…it was making her angry, and irrationally so.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Hunter said.

Happy.

“I’m just so happy you’re here.”

Happy.

“I’ve had an epiphany, baby. Like the kind that really opens your eyes.”

That’s what it means.

“And I’m ready to tackle this lock-in with a fresh set of eyes!”

She stepped another step back, curling further into herself. She looked up at him, a tight smile on her face, bearing no teeth. “Fresh set of eyes?” Nickie said. Her voice was weak— strained. Hollow. Devoid of happiness, drained of energy, but quivering as it held back back something that she hoped that he couldn’t tell, for his own sake.

Anger.

“Is that what you were doing out here?” she asked, and she let out a weak laugh. “Having an epiphany?”

She looked down, her smile tightening further. “Good for…you.”


º º code by ditto º º
 

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

@omg_adriane has set their status to:
what the hell

@omg_adriane has interacted with:
Chas

@omg_adriane has mentioned:
Angel

@omg_adriane has tagged:
hery hery ​
It was freeing to know that Adriane hadn't lost her touch or grown soft in any way. Nope, she'd managed to keep that sharp edge to her and she could still easily send little boys running away crying. God, that truly had to be the best feeling -- the most freeing feeling. And yeah, yeah, say whatever you wanted to about it, but Adriane really didn't care. Look, she didn't have to play nice to some creepy kid drawing her just because it was "mean" to do otherwise.

Of course, as Adriane was well-aware, any high couldn't last long -- and unfortunately, this high had a damper put on it quite quickly as the shrill voice of her best friend and roommate drilled into her head. Cocking one eyebrow up, she looked over at Chas as he greeted her. Naturally, he wasn't even looking at her as he approached, instead focused more on his nails. It would've earned an eyeroll from Adriane if she, well, didn't also approach him in a similar manner a majority of the time.

Sure, her thoughts and feelings towards Chas may have made it seem like the two were more frenemies than best friends, but trust her. This was all just the nature of their friendship.

"Hilarious," she said, her voice monotone as she smirked at him before her facial expression returned to its normal vacancy. "Really, I consider it charity work. I'm doing the world a favor by stopping guys like that in their tracks. First its doodling pictures of strange girls, then its inviting girls into his van to kill them." She said with a breathless sigh and a slight shake of her head.

Really, everyone should be thanking her.

"At any rate..." he began with a sigh, scanning the gym, "I need you for something. You don't look like you have plans."

Her previous disinterest in the conversation was pinched out at this. Adriane perked up, even straightening up to her full height (which, with the couple inches that she gained from the heels, clearly had her towering over one very short Chas Marino). She looked down at Chas, clearly intrigued with what he was saying now. After all, he was right. She had no plans for the evening.

Even if she had, she would've cancelled all of them if it meant something for Chas.

And no, not because they were friends and she'd do whatever for him. Get that idea out of your head right now.

Simply because the way he spoke made it sound like something dangerous and exciting.

A faint smile tugged at the edges of her lips.

"I mean, I had a few other plans." She was lying, but thanks to the emotionless nature of her voice, it was hard to tell when she was being truthful. "But I suppose that I can clear them for you, Chas." Okay, her voice took on a bit of dripping sarcasm with that remark. "What ever do you need help with?"

Perhaps he was finally going to ask for help with that hideous clothing style of his. Or his diet, which was clearly not doing him any favors. Or any number of the other superficial aspects of Chas that could use a bit of work.
º º code by ditto º º
 








Dalton smirked as he listened to Lydia's teasing. Yes he was the perfect scapegoat wasn't he? After all who better to blame for a problem than one of the resident assholes?

"A scapegoat? You wound me Fox." He said, feigning distress. Not like he was ever going to let himself get caught anyways. He didn't spend the past few years honing his patience and keeping any incidents to a minimum or off school grounds for nothing. His record was actually fairly clean, nothing you could really call a black mark, and there were uses to keeping it that way. Of course that would be more of a challenge now that a certain fucker was wandering the halls of H.A. Just the thought of the bastard's smirking face incensed him.

“Know you intimately? Who talks like that?” Lydia said as she closed another file and moved onto the next.

He did apparently. Hearing her say those words back to him, they did sound silly enough to warrant the bout of laughter that escaped Lydia's lips. Not that he would ever admit he thought it was silly of course.

“Coy, huh? Look who’s pulling out those SAT words.” She said with a wink. “Interesting word choice though. Means you find me alluring.” She stood up and showed off her body. “What have I said about mixing business and pleasure?”

Dalton shook his head as he watched her. She really did enjoy messing with him didn't she? All the teasing and provocations, he wasn't complaining though. This little game of cat and mouse they played was fun in it's own way. A game that worked because they never really, as she put it 'mixed business and pleasure'. Yes he did find her attractive, but he wasn't a whore like some of the other guys at school who slept with or tried to sleep with anyone they found attractive. Of course he wasn't some saint of celibacy or whatever either. If he wanted pleasure, he just had to head over to Adriane's. He knew what he got with her, a good time, mutual pleasure and satisfaction, and no unwanted complications. He could hook up with other people, in fact he had, but in those cases you were dealing with uncertainty, the possibility that you were tempting trouble and inviting unwanted complications and the like. The status quo he had with Lydia? It was comfortable, he liked it, and there was no need to risk the possibility of changing it by crossing that line. Him teasing her back as he did? Simply part of the elaborate dance the game required. Nothing more.

At his mention of a discovery Lydia instantly joined him, cutting into his space to read the file, and he watched as she studied its contents.

“Looks like our little Mikaela got her nose in a little trouble. This is good. This is really good. Look at you being all sleuthy. There might be hope for you yet.”

Dalton smirked. "Looks like I do have my uses beyond being a scapegoat then, but there's also no harm in admitting you just want to keep me around you know." He teased, referring to her earlier comment as he lowered his head a little and leaned in to whisper into her ear. "After all it's just the two of us here, your secret would be perfectly safe with me. As for mixing business and pleasure," His next words rolled off his tongue in a sarcastic drawl as he straightened himself with a smirk, returning his attention to what he had found. "you needn't worry. After all, I am the very picture of professionalism."

He wasn't of course, not with the way he was provoking and teasing her as she had him, but then he didn't consider himself to be at work and that was the only place where he had to be and would be professional. Besides, it was called sarcasm for a reason and while for Lydia this little trip might have been like a job of sorts, for him it was just an opportunity for him to have fun and get over the shitty week he had with all the unwanted news that had come his way.

A slight frown crossed his face as he looked at the file. Ice skating wasn't a sport he would necessarily engage in but he was familiar with it, had watched it a couple of times, and so he knew Mikaela from there as well as the occasional tabloid or paper he saw that had her family name splashed across it. He'd also crossed paths with her a couple of times in the school hallways before he'd left for the job in Hawaii and well...she'd never given off the impression of someone who would engage in such activities as far as he could tell. It made the discovery all the more amusing really. He had nothing against the girl but he honestly couldn't care less if this secret of hers ever came out. Other people's suffering was his satisfaction. He was an asshole, a sadist, if you were looking for a hint of remorse or guilt for what might happen if this secret got leaked well...you wouldn't be finding it here. Not through him.

"Anything else you would like to dig through in this office Fox?"

He glanced at the table then around the room. She seemed to have made quick work of those files and gone through quite a number already. It was impressive really, the speed with which she went about this. Useful too since it meant they got in and out faster and had less of a chance of being caught. He had to admit he was surprised though, that they'd only found one piece of information that was worthwhile in this office, especially with the characters they had at this school. Perhaps all the secrets worth being found had already been exposed on twitter. There had been quite a number of late what with the whole Cervantes and DuBois debacle and then that thing about Abrams possibly being pregnant. Hopefully all the exposing would stay far away from him. Of course he didn't have any secrets aside from the fact that he was related to Slutter. None. And if that ever got out...Dalton chased the thought away as he awaited Lydia's answer. Graduation really couldn't come soon enough.


Dalton Kirby



mood:


outfit:
casual

location:
dean's office

mentions:
Adriane, Mikaela, Slater

interactions:
Lydia

tags:
gh0stwriter gh0stwriter


º º code by ditto º º
 
[
I feel like I'm drowning


M O O D : inspired

O U T F I T : clothes

L O C A T I O N : HA Music Room

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

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

T A G S : @Kitsune2202​



She was nice. Way too fucking nice. Not in a bad way, just unexpected. Everyone here was out for themselves. He’d be the first to admit it too, but she had an energy about her. It reminded him of Josie. Upbeat. Looking on the bright side. Something Lucky rarely did. Okay...so he never did it, but it was refreshing and confusing. This girl was friends with Seanie. That befuddled him. Surely there must be something wrong with her.

"If you perform it you should tell Josie to let me know! It's been a while since I've gone out like that."

He tilted his head coyly. “Yeah? You’d wanna come?” He said as he sat up straight. Excited. “For sure! I know it’s lame but...I did a few back in New York and when I first came out to LA. Much more low key vibe than you’re used to, but there’s just something about being in a smaller space and playing your music to a small group of people.” He was on a tangent.

He could do this for hours. Of course he wanted to play at sold out arenas with thousands watching. But that wasn’t why he became a musician. He did it because he loved it. He turned his attention back toward her. “Sorry. I ramble..” He let out a small chuckle. Yeah, it was only when he was talking about music, but he was pretty sure people knew he was a man of very few words.

"Pretty much! I was going to listen back to the demo I made and see any tweaks I wanted to make, but it's basically done. Mostly what I'm working on the rest of this time is I wanted to shoot a music video to be playing possibly in the background on screens you know? Maybe even some stage effects? Make it like a one hit wonder mini concert."

Okay. He suddenly felt wildly unprepared. Music video? Should he be doing that? Was that a thing? If you have unlimited funds, he guessed anything was possible. He and Ash were good. Her song was great. Vocals. Amazing. They had it in the bag, but maybe that wasn’t enough. Every time he felt like he had a handle on things, someone proved that he was light years behind. He knew it wasn’t intentional. Amy had a career already. She had a manager. Songs recorded. She was a pro. Lucky had a few YouTube videos and his charm.

It wasn’t enough. He swallowed hard. It would be fine. He had a few songs prepared for his solo and he and Ash just had to ace their performance. He had the talent and the drive. But that wasn’t always enough.

“I suddenly feel super unprepared.” He joked. But he wasn’t joking. Damn, he needed a distraction. Something to keep his mind from going over and over how much he did not belong here. Convinced it was some charity to make the school look good. Let’s invite the troubled kid from Brooklyn to join our school. He was sure they got something out of it.

"Do you wanna hear a piece, and help me out?" She asked curiously, "I'd do the same of course if you ever wanted it. I've been told I'm a pretty good lyricist."

“Yeah, that’d be awesome.” He loved watching others work. It helped him. It drove him. It made him feel like he wasn’t 100% alone like he felt most of the time. Plus, he’d heard her songs recorded, but never seen her live. Live was an entirely different experience. That’s when you really got to see the artist and who they are and if their talent matches their albums.

LUCKY DUBOIS
º º code by ditto º º
 



















oates



his boyfriend's boyfriend












Things were going better in Oatland.

Sure, Kian might have grouped Oates with his worst enemies now, but there wasn't a lot the curly-haired boy could've done about that; he messed up big time, and now he simply had to suffer the consequence that was avoiding Kian at all costs in order not to cause any new and disruptive wounds on the boy's obviously timid heart. Enough tears were spilled over the issue, and even though it didn't sit right on his mind that somebody was suffering because of him, he chose not to dwell on the matter any further. When Kian was ready, he would reach out, hopefully.

Now, instead of petty boy drama, Oates focused on his feet, one step after another, in order to not stumble and faceplant onto a flat surface once again, much like what happened at homecoming. For a dancer who was expected to have some seriously skilled leg coordination, his face met the ground more times than one expected.

Though, on his mind was something else. Something of urgency which he simply couldn't have ignored any further. As it would seem, Oatland had been colonized by none other than an abundance of Callum soldiers and meaningless propaganda flyers going over how stupid everybody else was. Although the curly-haired boy adored his now-again-boyfriend, sometimes even he needed somebody else to bring something new to his life. Stimulation of the brain, or whatever else they called it. Truthfully, there were only so many nights one could spend at home doing absolutely nothing—so hanging out with the president and vice president of Oatland, Caprio Montgomery and Nathan Woods respectfully, was just what he needed to get his life back on track. He didn't actually remember the last time he spent time with the two of them, either apart or together, which definitely wasn't a good thing, and so he yearned for his bros. For their soft voices to grace his ear with melodic symphonies that were anything but hate rants about Ash and her bad friendship skills.

Oh, just thinking about it made drool come out of his mouth. Figuratively. Don't get any ideas.

Entering, there were people everywhere, maybe not as crowded as he thought it was going to be, but pretty much like yet another normal school day, just a little bit more casual, if that made sense. His eyes scanned for any familiar face, both ones he wanted to see and those he didn't really wish to, but luckily, just how he planned, Nate and Cappie were the first ones he noticed, and the excitement he felt in his gut could only have been described as a ray of sun (not radiation).

Not running, because running wasn't cool, he made his way over to the two, though enthusiasm soon got the better of him:

"Socialism! Wait... I mean socializing. Yeah, that's the word."
Though a bit confused, the boy had the spirit. And, anyway, like Nate or Cappie actually knew what socialism was, they were artists, not Einstein...

"Whatever! Hi, dudes! Cappie!"
Oates went in for a hug, making sure to squeeze tightly in case he didn't receive his daily hug minimum and needed a little something extra to get through the night.
"And I know you're not a hugger, but I simply must hug you. No offense."
The smile on his face spoiled to Nate that there was no way to get out of the hug, and so, before long, the boy's hands wrapped around Nate for a little bit of a shorter, more manly hug accompanied by a pat on the shoulder to show just how manly dudes they were. God forbid something hurt Nate's ego. It would be a whole other Kian situation all over again.

"So, what are we all talking about? Nate's new girlfriend??"
He turned to face Nate a bit more, an obviously curious smile on his face.
"Or does Cappie have some new love he'd like to brag to his bros about?"
His head turned, featuring the same, previously mentioned, smile. Maybe Oates was just a little bit too excited for the other two, but who cared; they were young, and at the lock-in, and life was all-in-all going so good.

"Also, that's a really cool outfit. I'm going to steal that jacket sometime."
He ran out of breath just a little bit before proceeding.
"Anyway, continue on...like I'm not even here. But don't ignore me. That's rude."












































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
[
So look me in the eyes
Tell me what you see

M O O D : horny

O U T F I T : fit

L O C A T I O N : lock-in

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

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

T A G S : geminiy geminiy

​

Well...that never disappointed. He leaned back against the wall of the classroom, his gaze still firmly on Gen. Their post-hook-up-glow still emanated from them both. It was easy with Gen. Safe. There was a trust there. A friendship that ensured that neither would ever do anything to hurt the other. He liked that. Knowing that they’d still be there for each other no matter what. Yeah...it was complicated. Evie would freak. Hell, she might even kill him. He loved his sister...but she could be irrational at times. Too much in her own head to understand certain things. She was also protective. Overprotective at times. He gave in too easily. That’s where he and his sister differed.

He believed in all that romantic bullshit most of the HA students thought was crap. Even despite him constantly being proven wrong by the people in his life, he still wanted that person. Someone who wanted to be with him without any stipulations. Jace cared. In his own way. Or at least he used to, but there was nothing there on his end. And he did feel shitty about it. He wished he could. Though, he wasn’t sure who Evie would have more of a problem with: her best friend, Gen or Jace fucking West.

“Hey, can I be real for a minute?”

Landon perked up. Awoken from the trip inside his head that he had experienced. “Of course.” He said with a warm smile. “You can even take longer if you need to.” He said with quick laugh. He liked their talks. Whether it was before or after. Usually during a hook-up. Not because that was the only thing they were good at, but it was the only time they were ever just the two of them. They were friends...yes, but he was also Evie’s little brother. That’s how he was introduced. That’s how everyone will forever remember him. For now anyway.

He couldn’t lie. Hearing that Gen felt the same way about their...relationship? Friendship? Whatever the fuck it was. Meant a lot. Confirmed that he was right in feeling the way he did. Was he in love? No. He’d only ever loved one person and he wasn’t even sure if that counted. Or if it was love. Or if it was even real. But Gen was a constant. Someone quick to put him in his place when he needed to be and someone to build him up or defend him if those moments arose. And she was there. Every time. But rarely were people there for her. It was her fault. She didn’t let anyone know she needed anything.

Even with him, their deep, soulful conversations were few and far between. She had a reputation. He understood that, but he worried for her. Worried that if she only took care of others, then she’d face the consequences. And everyone knows she’d been going through a lot lately.

“I don’t know how much you’ve heard but…”

Heard? He was sure everyone had. A lot of it was public. The rest you could easily infer. Liv. Apparently the woman who snatched up Gen’s heart. He was no one to judge. His choices in the past have been...questionable. He was in no position to judge. He knew what it was like to have his heart broken and realized what it was like to know that something you thought would last forever...came crashing down.

He listened. That’s what they did. Sounding boards. She’d listen to his vague quanderies and he’d listen about her insecurities. It wasn’t just a hook up. He knew that. But it was the most it ever could be, right? He watched her get up and followed suit. If anyone came in and saw them right now there would be very little they could do to hide it. He stayed silent. Letting her get all her thoughts out before he responded. He grabbed his pants and slid them on.

“But what about this? Where does this end? Hookups are one thing; you just do the deed and move on with your life. But this? Us? I can’t help but feel like maybe this, what we’re doing right now, maybe this isn’t where we’re going to end.” Gen admitted, her stomach knotting itself up with the worry of her words. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that I only think of you as a friend, you know better than that. And I know there are reasons we can’t… you know. But I care about you, I care about you a lot. This past week has made me think about all the people in my life that are going to leave and if I’m being honest, I can’t stomach the thought of losing you.”

He stood still. Forgetting the remainder of his clothes. Vulnerability wasn’t something that came lightly to Gen and the fact that she was opening up to this degree meant a lot. To him. And about how much pain she was in. It was difficult watching the people around you move on...be happy. Have things that you were told you couldn’t have. It fucking sucked.

“I thought I told you to stop me if I sounded like an idiot.”

He felt her arms wrap around his neck and his settled on her slim waist. His thumbs caressed her skin as a way to comfort her. “You’re not an idiot.” He said his eyes never wavered. “And I’d be lying if I told you that I don’t have any idea what you’re going through or that you and I are just some rando fling.” He said as he took a deep breath.

“Our story ain’t finished, but there are definitely complications.” They couldn’t hide from them. His hand reached up and caressed her face. “But you won’t lose me. Ever. No matter what happens. You and me...we’re good. Got it?” He reassured her.

His social circle had always been small but mighty and recently he realized how fragile it could be. He thought he and Jace would be friends forever but things got complicated but they rarely talked...about the real issues. Maybe if they had. I’d they were open and honest like he and Gen were. Things would be different.


LANDON SINCLAIRE
º º code by ditto º º
 






Nathan Woods


Cap was chill. And Nate and him were in the same department, so he wondered briefly why they didn't talk more... and then he remembered the simple answer to that. Nate wasn't a social fucker. This was probably the most social he'd been all week. Or all year. Fuck, this year had kind of thrown Nate for a bit of a loop. He'd gone from his only social events being shit like... parties (and only for the hookups) to... whatever this was.

"Hanging out."

Nate wasn't sure he liked it.

Cap wished him luck on talking soon with Landon, and Nate's eyebrows furrowed together. He didn't really see the point in talking shit over, of course, and the only reason he probably would do so would be in order to appease his new girlfriend. No, Nate wasn't a simp. Nate was just... he wanted to make her happy -- and if one of those things was him talking shit over with her little brother, then so be it. Nate would do it.

Talking really wasn't his strong suit, though.

Nate glanced over at Cappie and perked up a bit when he asked about Trent... no, Trevor's film. "Oh, uh..." he started to explain, but then he caught sight of Oates sauntering over followed by his little friend's greeting. He couldn't help the casual grin that brightened his features.

Look, Nate might not of been social, but he did still enjoy seeing his friends and hanging out with them. You know, the handful of friends that he had, anyhow.

"Hey," Nate greeted, although the smile faltered when Oates hugged him. He wasn't really sure how to respond, so he just kind of... patted Oates gently on the back until his friend finally let him go, and Nate's skin stopped crawling. It probably came as a total surprise, but Nate wasn't much one for physical... anything. Fuck, he dreaded holding Evie's hand and shit, especially in public.

Like of course he would. He'd just hate every moment of it.

Nate chuckled as he listened to Oates continue to ramble on.

"Yeah, we already talked about Evie," Nate admitted. "She texted me a bit ago. Said some shit about uhh... asking about murdering Callum 'cause he made her friend cry or something. But she's not uhh... not going to... obviously. She was bluffing."

She wasn't bluffing.

"Anyway, we were talking about Arts Festival." He explained, clearing his throat a bit as he tried to bounce back from his girlfriend being pissed at Oates' boyfriend. Because seriously, it was just dumb as fuck and although it didn't affect them (at least in Nate's opinion), he was perhaps a little worried that it might cause some kind of rift between himself and Oates. He knew how this dating shit worked. You were supposed to stand by your significant other, and blah, blah, blah, but Nate wasn't... Nate didn't want to fuck up his friendships for a relationship that wasn't going to last.

Kind of ironic coming from the guy that had dropped over half a dozen friendships just in the last couple years, of course.

"Not sure what the movie's about," Nate admitted to Cappie, his dark gaze now turning back from Oates to look at Cappie. "It's that uhh... Tren-- no, uhh.... Trevor. Yeah, that Trevor guy. He lent me a blunt once so I guess we're... not... friends but not not friends..." that didn't make sense. Again, Nate wasn't the best with his words. "The only shit he said to me was 'you'd be perfect for the stoner role,' so guess I'm showing up high, standing somewhere, and then leaving. I don't fucking know."

He glanced back at Oates for a moment, and then down at his hands. He tossed the rest of the granola into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, his gaze focused on his hands which now clasped together.

He fucking hated socializing sober.

"So Cap, follow up to Oates' comment, you got a girlfriend or anything?"

Nathan Woods, ladies and gentlemen, an excellent conversationalist.




mood
friends? check. weed? needed.

location
somewhere in the school

outfit
clothes duh





playing...
Figure Me Out
by The Summer Set​




mentions
Callum, Evie

interactions
Cappie, Oates

tags
0k_mang0 0k_mang0 mogy mogy


º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how he's feeling...



    very good he likes it on the sidewalk

















beel



batshit crazy drug addict












Conveniently, Sims 2 music played in the back of Beelzebub's mind at all times like a sort of backdrop music in a really fancy restaurant that all the rich white folk went to.

You might be wondering, though, what the fuck did that have to do with anything?

The answer is:

Honestly, I don't fucking know.

I think it might have somehow explained why the short bleached little man was moving in a groovy sort of manner while no music or rhythm of any kind was making its appearance around him. No earbuds in his ears nor a speaker on his belt, the only explanation left was the video game music from 2004. He already looked like drugs were cruising through his veins even if he wasn't doing the robot on the side of the street, but at this point, it would've been easier to accept that his veins were more of a staycation for whatever it was that he took the previous night than anything else entirely.

Being back in LA was fun, he couldn't complain. Beel was just a tad bit late to the start of the school year, but luckily he had enough brain juice in him to bullshit his way to an excuse as to why he spent the last month and a half in Montana picking avocados and grapefruit. Don't ask.

Right now, however, he was ready to party and play and dance and lick people. But before that all happened, there was one very important piece of business the little man needed to attend to—las drogas de Javi.

The drug dealer proved to be a real pain in Beel's ass, but the little man couldn't deny that it was fun DMing with him. He was just like a little confused Teletubby, and that was a quality Beelzebub cherished highly in a person. Just ask Dipsy. (Ugly Camille could never...she had no Teletubby energy whatsoever; maybe that 'vile baby trapped in the sun' energy, but it was a known fact that Beel wanted to punch that bitch in her vicious ass face. Loathsome I'm uncultured.)

Anyway, Beelzebub wasn't addicted to drugs like, for example, Nate had been. The little man just wanted to have fun, and most people in the school were boring as fuck, stuck up, broom-in-their-ass, petite daddy's girls/mommy's boys. Them morphing into the funniest people on earth was just one snort away, and when that snort was basically free, who could resist!? Even if it had been a snort from Javi. Ugh, talk about annoying, steroid-using gym addicts.

The bleached little man didn't need to be addicted to the gym because his biceps were mighty powerful, as he showcased to the passersby who looked at him with worry in their eyes. Well, it was more misery from seeing drug addicts all day long across the streets of the city, but to each their own, I guess.

It wasn't long before his feet found themselves firmly placed on the ground of the school, ready to locate Javi, and since he didn't have any data on his phone, he needed to talk to people. Fun.

"Excuse me, would you happen to know a guy, real prick, sells drugs, has muscles?"
He asked, to which some people just waved their hand no as if he were asking for $5, like chill people, that was coming later... It didn't stop him from asking, again and again, no luck one time after another.

He ought to cry if it continued this way.











































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Corey Preston
18 || Senior || Literature
@coreyinthehouse has set their status to:
I'm no longer Spongebob ready

@coreyinthehouse has set their outfit to:
Coco is Lock-in Ready!

@coreyinthehouse has set their location to:
HA Parking Lot

@coreyinthehouse has mentioned:
Maddie

@coreyinthehouse has interacted with:
Maddie

@coreyinthehousehas tagged:
jasmyn jasmyn
Corey Elmo Preston, the boy who was known for being outrageously quiet and more or less untalkative when it came to anyone. It wasn’t as though he was a complete introvert or lacked the confidence to hold conversations. Get him going about his art or poetry, or about certain nerdy indulgences he frequents and you might see a side of Corey that not many get to see. But he just isn’t the type to go seeking it out, you know? He has this way about him that he likes to keep himself most of the time. He’s well mannered and just has simple pleasures.

But with Maddie, things were always different. He could be his true self with her. She knew how to make him feel the most comfortable version of himself that he was. When he was with her, regardless of what was happening outside their bubble, he could confide in her about anything.

Things were always different with Maddie.

And they were, but in the worst of ways.

Even as Corey got out of the car and they started walking, he hadn’t really been listening. Usually, COrey would cling to every word Maddie said and be the first to give her a smile. But his mind couldn’t keep it off what happened in the last week. From Gen outing their thing from a couple of years ago and to everything that came after, every time he looked at her which, granted it was when she was looking else where, he felt that familiar stinging feeling in his gut paralyze him into turning away. It was like being near Maddie wasn’t allowing him to be able to say what he wanted anymore.

But really! What can I say?

That was the million dollar question and it was one he clung to until he heard her voice.

“ There has to be, uh, something we can do. Something fun?”

“Huh?” He turned his head as he came to a stop. And then he continued, shaking his head. “Ah, yeah, we can do that!”

Corey was screaming internally. He had no idea what he just agreed to. Were things so bad that you couldn’t even listen to your best friend? The answer was, apparently, a big glaring, fat yes.

"I packed some silly string and water balloons. I don't know why but,"

“Hey that does sound fun!” He chimed in with such an artificial excitement that anyone with an ounce of observation skills would pick up on it.

And that only made Corey want to crawl into the shell even further. “Maybe, uh, we can get a couple people too? FOr a fight, I mean.” He scratched the back of his head.

And at that moment, Corey knew he fucked up because his best friend of the entire world would most certainly know that was his tell for how uncomfy he was. “Like I mean, it could be fun, yeah?”



º º code by ditto º º
 






MICHAEL K. REID
asshole supreme


Michael wasn’t going to talk about his night anymore. He wasn’t one for rehashing the same phrase over and over and over again. He wasn’t a broken record or one of the countless uncreative, boring wannabes that surrounded him.

Oh, it’s good. Oh, the conversation was boring. Oh, I just have to follow the three easy— yeah, yeah, you got it. You were listening to him— you weren’t a dumbass.

For the past little bit, he had been wandering aimlessly down the halls, relentlessly teasing chattering with underclassmen as he made his way to nowhere in particular. The backpack on his shoulder, in all its ripped, tattered glory, hung onto his left shoulder for dear life, while the right strap dangled dejectedly. His galaxy-printed metal water bottle had gained a dent— he wouldn’t disclose how— but that was really the only development that had occurred.

He’d just say, one more time: night go good, he content— and he would leave it at that.

Now, he rounded the corner into a hall that was a bit busier than the others, whistling a tune that vaguely sounded like “The Best of Both Worlds” by the one and only Hannah Montana. Damn right, he had the best of both worlds— being able to bully people and vibe tonight? The conditions were really perfect.

Then again, any night where the conditions didn’t lead him to drinking beer in a sad, cracking bathtub could be considered pretty good; it didn’t take much to reach perfect status.

His gaze was mostly focused on the walls, scanning the various student paintings mounted on them. Most of them looked like works that two-year-olds could do, but that was just abstraction in general, wasn’t it? Mike bet thirty bucks that he could shit on a canvas and have it revered as deeply intellectual. Hell, someone might even write a paper over it. Hey, and if you were that person— call it “The Defecation Disseration” and thank him later.

His casual walk came to a halt, though, when someone grabbed his arm and tugged him toward them.

His head whipped to the direction that the hand had come from, a brow raised and his lips curled downward.

When he saw that it was just Sinclare— the tolerable one— and his frown twinged into a slight grin.

"Reid, hey,” Evie said. “Quick question. Matter of opinion, really."

“Shoot,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

He glanced to the two people standing in front of her, and his grin broadened sadistically.

The Wax Figure and Piss Boy West. What a cute little couple they made.

He stared West down. “Let’s hear it,” he chuckled, knowing already that it had something to do with these pathetic incels.

"Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum here had the brilliant idea to make Ash cry,” Evie said, and Mike’s began to lower slowly.

Ash…as in, West’s older sister?

Or was she younger?

Pfft, whatever.

“Dumbass move, mmhm,” Mike said, nodding and bringing a finger to poise on his chin.

“Now, you know as well as everyone that Ash is like family to Gen, and personally, I think she would rather enjoy hearing all about this amazing performance they put on,” she continued. “What do you think though? Wanna help me find her so these two can have the audience they so clearly crave? Do some charity."

Mike pretended to think for a moment, looking up and around as he hummed a “hmmmm…”.

He felt eyes on him, and he lifted his gaze to Gollum’s tight-assed, uglier cousin. He held back a laugh at Richards’ expression— one of disbelief and pride. “Then tell her, I guess,” Richards said with a cool tone, picking at his fingernail. “You’re already wasting my time over nothing.”

A chuckle escaped Mike’s lips. Okay, he couldn’t help but laugh at that. Seriously, the guy who had all of the personality of a cinderblock wanted to say that Evie was wasting her time. Pfft, yeaaaah, suuuuure, kid, keep dreaming.

“W-w-what?" stammered Prince Anemia’s bitch friend.

Mike looked to him with an amused expression on his face, once again holding back laughter. Look, these two had the fucking dumbest expressions— it was hilarious. West looked like he was going to shit a brick or piss himself— though West’d probably enjoy the latter a bit tooo much.

Mike noted that West was keeping his eyes focused entirely on Evie, which made Mike swell a bit. Yeah, the feeble, impotent two-year-old should’ve been afraid of him— especially given their past— and it was nice to see him cowering. And honestly, it was pretty funny, too.

“N-n…no, no, no," West stuttered. His quivering lips formed a pathetic, mildly creepy smile. "W-wh...we...we don't...no, no, we...we don't need…need Gen. We'll, we'll, we'll go check on her right now— Ash, you know...m-my sister, we'll...we'll go...check on her. It was, it was, it was a joke, right, Cal?" He gave a sob-ish laugh. "Y-yeah, and we'll...apologize, no…no need to...to do that."

Mike had to laugh again. Holy fuck, this guy was pathetic. Couldn’t even say a sentence straight.

Mike saw that all of the points that he’d made about West in freshman and sophomore year were still very applicable.

West’s attempt at deflecting wasn’t going to work, but at least he had enough sense to pretend that he hadn’t meant whatever the hell he said. His friend over there was, however, somehow more of a fucking dumbass than West.

It was a feat, really.

"It wasn't a joke," Richards said quickly. "Since when have we been joking about how much of a two-faced asshole she is?" He gave West some kind of look that Mike didn’t care to discern, and then he looked over to Evie. “Would you just leave us alone?" he said in an uninterested way, staring as if to bore holes into Evie.

Mike stared at Richards in disbelief for a moment, and then he chuckled, looking over at Evie again. “Get a load of ‘em, will you?” He crossed his arms, scoffing. “Can’t even wait for me to give an answer before they interrupt. How rude,” he said in mock indignation, and then he chuckled, grinning broadly and looking back at Dumbass West and Dumbass East.

He looked up at Richards first. “Hey, Pedo Stare,” he said. “Those paint fumes getting to you? I know having to have your foundation shade mixed at a Sherwin-Williams’s gotta really be the only way you can reach that shade of blinding white, but c’mon, man. I’m sure you could use that clown makeup or something. Plus, that’d be even more fitting.”

His gaze shifted over to West, and then he scoffed, walking closer to him and reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to catch a flinch. “And you…,” he said, lowering his voice and darkening his tone, and he just stared at him for a moment.

If he’d done his shit right, then that would be enough to get a rise out of him.

With a laugh, he looked over his shoulder at Evie. “Yeah, I say we go,” he said, and he let West go with a shove of his hand.

He cracked his knuckles and dropped his backpack, kicking it hard enough to make it slide and hit the wall. Yeah, he’d need to leave that here. The only thing valuable in it was the flask he had, and he’d hidden it well enough that he was pretty sure that he was the only one who could find it in there, so he had no worries about it. He rolled his shoulders and then his neck, and then he grabbed either side of his jaw and yanked upwards to make his neck crack a couple of times.

He dropped his arms and grinned at West again. “Mommy’s Little Bitch ovew hewe needs to be punished fow what he’s done,” he said in a baby voice, and he barked a laugh. He looked up at West’s friend or pet or whatever the hell he was, his grin broadening. “Richards, you see stars when you stand— get ready to be reunited with them, courtesy of Genevieve Johannes.”

He brushed Richards aside with his forearm and walked between him and Bitch Number Two (or Number One because of the piss thing) and began to walk towards…well, he wasn’t really sure. Just somewhere where Gen might’ve been.

“Actually,” Mike said casually as he walked towards the classrooms, “I think we might just make a line. There’s no reason for Gen to have all of the fun, is there, Sin Claire?” He glanced back at West and Richards, and then chuckled. “Though I can’t promise that I’d wait my turn. I’ve never been that good with patience or self-control.” He glanced back at West once more at that last statement, and he laughed again.

He walked at a casual but fast pace, leaning back on his spine a bit. In spite of the shortness of his legs, his strides were rather large— though much of that had to do with the pride in his step that came from the palpable nervousness from one of the boys behind him.

He peeked his head into the first classroom, and then the second, and then the third, and then he looked back at Evie. “Do you have any idea where Gen is?” he asked. “I mean, she could be anywhere.” He pulled open a fourth door and poked his head inside. Nothing. “I heard some bustle from the gym a while ago. Ton of people in there. They tend to congregate in places like that.” Open door. Peek. Close door. “If she happens to be in there, then we could have a public execution. What do you think?” he laughed.

His hand set on another door, and he tugged it open casually. Expecting to see nothing as usual, he poked his head in, a grin lying latently on his face.

And it froze on his face when he didn’t see what he expected.

He stepped inside slowly, wholly taken aback, and he just…stared for a moment, taking in the scene.

Gen, shirtless.

Usually, that would’ve been a hell yeah.

…but there was also one certain dickhead, nipples free, caked in sweat.

Mike stood for a beat, shocked.

And then, his grin weakened and fell from his face.

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck.

What the actual fuck?

Gen.

Landon.

Half-naked.

On the fucking floor.

He walked in a few steps to pick up a discarded shirt, his brows furrowing in confusion...and...anger.

“Did we miss a…party?” he asked slowly, lifting his eyes to the two in the floor, tone weak and deeply confused, voice straining to hold back his building fire.

He didn't know what he felt.

But it was a rush of nothing fucking good.

And a rush of please fucking tell me that this is a goddamn misunderstanding or some shit.

Fucking please.




mood
...what the fuck

location
the school

outfit
a t-shirt and jeans. casual, you know





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​




mentions
n/a

interactions
the sinclaires, jace, callum, and gen

tags
Winona Winona geminiy geminiy gh0stwriter gh0stwriter jasmyn jasmyn hery hery


º º code by ditto º º
 






felix rian emmerson
pleasure's all mine


Slater really was draggin’ Felix for a ride, wadn’t he?

Look, one of Felix’s most outstandin' traits was just how much he went along with everything. Ya know, easygoingness, as it was called. Now, he usually didn’t see that as a fault. His unassertiveness and non-stubbornness had led to him only really gettin’ threatened to be punched because of his “stupid grin”, which was definitely a positive thing. It meant that he had all of his teeth intact and in their right, crooked places instead of out on the floor like that one Marino dude.

But when he got into situations like this, he cursed himself for bein’ so damn passive. Like, c’mon, dude. You seriously thought, when you were approachin’ the girl “oh shit, Slater is going to be eviscerated” and you really came along for the ride. You couldn’t even tell him “hey, can we not?”.

But…hey, things weren’t goin’ too bad. Slater’s lies weren’t that obvious. He was just…pickin’ things to say that were just a bit off.

Felix grinned. “Right…” He held up a finger. “Ish,” he clarified with a chuckle, and he brushed his fingers through his hair and shakin’ his head. “See, I said that we should come up to her because I believe Miss Jameson is one of them ‘good dancers’ we want, bud.” He met Slater’s eyes, tryin’ to tell him what direction his was pushin’ this. “I saw her perform last year at the Arts Fest. I’m sure you could find a video of her online or somethin’. It was absolutely amazing, to be honest.”

He looked over to JJ, givin’ a sure nod to show that, yes, he meant it, even though he only caught a few seconds of it and didn’t know shit about dancin’. “All the, uh…twists and things were very impressive. I especially like the…” He trailed off, shakin’ his head again with a chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t know technical terms. But it was the...” He took a step back from them, and he curled his arms around himself and did a small, unimpressive hop. His legs made a weird jerky motion when he lept, and he let out a soft “mmpfh” as his feet hit the floor again. “It was that,” he said. “That was what really stuck with me.”

He hoped that she made some move that kinda looked like that. He was really just pullin’ stuff outta his ass.

He laughed softly. “But yeah. I’m doing some voices in the film, as Slater here said,” he said breezily, wavin’ his hand dismissively, as if to brush it off as no big deal. “Ya know, with my big break happenin’ in the actin’-actin’ field, I figured that I’d try an’ break into voice actin’, too.” He laughed. “I’ven’t tried it yet or anything, but Slater here’s kind enough to lemme, uh, guinea pig with his Fest film.” He elbowed his friend with a grin, tryin’ to get him to talk so that he wouldn’t have to anymore. “Plus, it counts as my project, too, which is neat, ya know. Gives me more time to work on other things and wow would y’all look at that time.”

Two sentences ran together as he looked up at the clock above JJ— his way out.

“Damn, I didn’t realize that it was getting this late,” he said, and he looked over to Slater. “Damn, bud, you should’ve told me, man.” He gave another chuckle. “Seriously, just an elbow or somethin’— somethin’ to lemme know that time was gettin’ away this fast.”

In his eyes was an apology: “I’ve gotta get away, sorry.” He knew that Slater would probably bust his balls a bit later for abandonin’ him or somethin’ along those lines, but this was a terrible idea to begin with, and bailin' late was better than stickin’ around through it.

But…sorry, man. He didn’t mean it. No hard feelings. It was just self-preservation kickin’ it. Fight or flight. Survival of the fittest.

He looked down at the sittin' grin. “It’s been a pleasure meetin' you, Miss Jameson,” he said. “Sorry to hurry off so fast. Heh, I didn’t realize how late it was gettin’ and I got, uh, some things to do.” He pointed over his shoulder— at nothin’ in particular, because he really didn’t have anything to do. “I’ll catch you around, though.” He dropped his hand. “If you ever need me, I’m pretty easy to find. Just shoot me a text or a dm or a call or something.”

With a soft chuckle, he looked over to his friend again, and he put an arm around his shoulder for a second. “See ya, Slatemate,” he said, grinnin’. “Hope you enjoy the rest of your chat. I’ll catch you around.”

He met his eyes for another second to communicate: “Best of luck, bud. Don’t get yourself killed. I don’t wanna have to write your eulogy already.

“He went out doin’ somethin’ he loved— hittin’ on poor, innocent pedestrians. Unlucky for him, that poor, innocent pedestrian hit back.”

With that, he dropped his arm with a grin, and he waved at the two as he walked off.

Please, in all seriousness, go easy on him, JJ. I don’t want to have to build his ego back up. It’s not exactly Herculenian, but it kinda gets old after a bit.

He made his way down the hallway, tryin’ to walk with purpose when he really had none. Don’t worry— he’d kinda trained himself to do it, so it looked fairly natural.

He spotted a figure on the sidewalk outside who was just kinda…loiterin’ around, as if they were lookin’ for someone, so he headed out the door to go investigate.

(When he said that he had nothin’ to do, he seriously meant that he had nothin’ to do.)

“Hey,” he said, approachin’ the dude, but as he got closer, he came to recognize the face…slightly. He probably knew him from online or somethin’. “Can I help you? Are you lookin’ for someone?”




mood
oh look at the time

location
the school

outfit
somethin' casual





playing...
take a slice
by glass animals​




mentions
n/a

interactions
slater, jj, & beel

tags
Winona Winona Soap Soap mogy mogy


º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how he's feeling...



    very good he likes it on the sidewalk

















beel



batshit crazy drug addict












When his sorrows ailed him the most, and people started actively avoiding him because of the silent cries his eyes let out into the world, almost did the bleached little man remain nothing but skin and bones; drugless; as if he had been in rehab or some other Nate bullshit like that. However, a knight in shining armor, comparable to the brightest of rays that came from the sun, approached him, hopefully knowledgeable of a passage that led to the king of misery and las drogas—Javier. The blonde man was a source of information that took form as a bundle of golden retriever energy, and Beel was ready to suck him dry.

"Yes..."
The short bleached man moaned sadness as he got closer to the blonde bitch. Invading somebody's personal space was never an issue for Beel because it was just another thing made up by liberals. Just like ponytails and bishop in chess. Anyway, this was why he didn't refrain from putting his hands up on the stranger's shoulders before he continued dramatically speaking:
"I am looking for..."
His head turned to the side to emphasize just how unfortunate he had been and how poor of a situation he happened to find himself in.
"Javier."


Of course, Beel didn't dwell on the fact if he deserved to stand where he stood or not because, well, he obviously didn't. He was a child of God after all, and this was why such a pleasant stranger had been sent his way.
"But I am a child of God. And you, certainly, were assigned to help poor old me find Javier and repent my sins in the form of hardcore drugs."
Somehow, Beel's face remained entirely neutral, still exhibiting signs of despair, almost as if he actually believed the things leaving his mouth.
"You must help me, visitor. I beg of you."
He took his hands off the stranger's shoulders and got on his knees, putting his hands in a begging/praying gesture and looking up.
"I beg of you."


There were times where Beel found himself on his knees in front of strangers, but never was it this public, and never was the other person so clueless about what had been happening. He enjoyed that, notably, and the fact everybody was probably staring at them wasn't something he had been bothered by—being the party of the party was just the bleached little man's thing, you know?

"And besides,"
He got up after a moment of silent pleading, now taking the stranger's hands into his own.
"If you help me find Javier, there might just be something illegal in it for you."
It wasn't long before the man's telenovela facade broke down, and he started speaking in a normal tone of voice. Beel's hands still grasped the stranger's because there was absolutely no way he would get away after all of this.
"Or I can give you like a dollar to go buy some candy if you're not into substances."












































♡coded by uxie♡
 






felix rian emmerson
pleasure's all mine


Felix, in his line of work— er…line of side hustle— was used to seein’ the kinda folks that most folks called…uh…how could he put this politely?

Felix was used to seein' and servicin’ the “y’all done lost y’all’s marbles”.

Erratic behavior, odd scents, strange ways of talkin’? They were all in a day’s work, and he didn’t judge. He really couldn’t judge, y’know, seein’ as they were usually comin’ to him to get his money— and even when they weren’t, he didn’t find it too hard to switch them to customers. Y’know, just insert that charmin' grin and that charismatic spiel. Build ‘em up, be all friendly, and there ya had it, one customer, to-go, served right up.

Needless to say, Felix had come across some wild’ns here and there. Weewoos. Kookoos, if you caught his drift, and…well, this guy seemed like the type.

That was his immediate first impression when he saw the boy turn to him. First of all, he was wearin’ a shirt with his own face on it— which, to be fair, made for an interestin’ statement and kinda stuck with you. But second of all, he spoke in such a way— dramatic, over-the-top, heavy-handed inflections— that made Felix know “mm, yep, dude’s on drugs”.

This was confirmed to him almost immediately by the odd guy puttin’ his hands on his shoulders and sayin’, “I am looking for…Javier.”

Felix stared at him for a moment, a blank look in his eyes as he processed what was occurrin’, his grin layin’ in its some spot as it always did. The guy was as touchy as his auntie— with none of the “hey, at least I know who you are” that he had with Mabel.

Well, at least the guy looked more familiar the more he looked at him, so he got the impression that he at least knew him from somewhere. Then again, Felix didn’t have the greatest memory.

Dude was lookin’ for Javier? There were really only two reasons possible:

1) This bleach-haired guy was lookin’ to get screwed in the bathroom stall. (Good way to get some kinda infection, but he didn’t judge.)

Or.

2) He was Javier’s clientele.

And if it was the latter, then Felix proposed a correction to that.

Ahem.

Make it Emm’s clientele? Pretty please with a cherry on top?

“But I am a child of God,” the guy continued. “And you, certainly, were assigned to help poor old me find Javier and repent my sins in the form of hardcore drugs. You must help me, visitor. I beg of you.”

The latter. Felix was right.

And now, the dude was gettin’ on the ground, on his knees, foldin’ his hands, and lookin’ up at Felix. Now, for a few seconds there, Felix was thinkin’ “oh shit, do I run?”, because it kinda looked a little bit suspicious and, uh…not to dock it if you were into it, but exhibitionism— especially with complete strangers who he had likened to his Aunt Mabel— was not exactly his kinda thing.

He let out a soft chuckle of “well, at least that’s not what it was” when that wasn’t the case.

“I beg of you,” said the dude.

Felix chuckled softly, but he didn’t really know what exactly to say.

"And besides…” The bleached hair dude stood, takin’ Felix’s hands, and Felix chuckled in confusion again. "If you help me find Javier, there might just be something illegal in it for you." His tone became suddenly…not doomsday prepper-y, which was slightly jarrin’, but not enough for Felix to react. "Or I can give you like a dollar to go buy some candy if you're not into substances."

Felix stood for a moment, takin’ in everything and composin’ himself enough to talk, and then he gave a soft chuckle. He glanced down at their hands, and then at the guy’s face, and then he gave a nod. “I…see,” Felix said. “Well, you’ve come to the wrong guy if you wanted Javier, I’m sorry to say— but, before you get scared off, I think that we could make me the right guy.”

He pulled his hands from the other boy’s, and then gave a soft laugh. He dropped his arms to his side before holdin’ out a hand for the guy to shake. “It’s Felix Emmerson, by the way. You look familiar, so it’s possible that we might’ve met before. I’m not the best with names or faces, but I try.” He gave him a broad grin. “Anyway, Mr. Child of God, why don’t you follow me? I believe that I could fix you right up.”

He waved his hand in a “follow me” motion, and he dipped his head slightly as he turned around. “Come along, bud,” he said, beginnin’ to walk in the direction of—…heh, well, that much was classified information.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and stuck his hands in his pockets all leisurely like as he strolled towards his destination, bleach blonde in tow. “Javier charges way too much, man.” He chuckled dismissively, wavin’ his hand in the air. “Oh, not dockin' his hustle, no…but I don’t think that’s a good business move, you see.”

Felix ducked into the gym, bypassin’ the huge crowd and gently squeezin’ through groups with “pardon me”s and “just lemme squeeze by ya”s. He made his way to a couple of doors to the far right on the back wall beside the bleachers, and he pulled open the door, enterin’ the locker room.

It smelled the same as it always did— like sweat, cleats, and Axe body spray— but it was comfortin'. Ya know, spendin’ so much time in here changin’— and, er, “changin’”— before practices made it very homey.

Felix continued his spiel as he walked through the large locker room. “Those who I’ve spoken to’ve all, ya know, hinted that they were only buyin' from him because of his personality…and also…”

He came to a stop in front of a locker, and he twisted in his combination and tugged off the lock.

Yes, the top secret place was his basketball locker.

He did keep you guessin’ there, though, didn’t he?

He shuffled things around inside of his locker for a second, and then he pulled out a large backpack.

(Of emergency supplies, of course. Well, the “emergency supplies” weren’t…in there. They were concealed, you know. Steathily. Cleverly. He wasn’t a dumbass like his friends would make him out to be. He let them underestimate him, ya know? It wasn’t like he was gonna have all of that shit floatin’ around in his bag, pfft.)

“…because they really didn’t have any other option while I was gone,” he finished, and he grinned over at his follower. “I’m back now, though, bud, so the question is…what is it you’re lookin’ for?” His grin broadened, and he gave a sure nod and a wink. “Regardless, I'm at your service, blondie.”




mood
; )

location
the school

outfit
somethin' casual





playing...
take a slice
by glass animals​




mentions
javi

interactions
beel

tags
mogy mogy


º º code by ditto º º
 
Hunter Drake
"DYNAMITE LIKE TNT!"
@HuntNLove has set their status to:
Dynamite and ready to blow shit up

@HuntNLove has set their outfit to:
Sleepover ready

@HuntNLove has set their location to:
Hollywood Arts Parking Lot

@HuntNLove has mentioned:
Dei (final time), Chas, Ash

@HuntNLove has interacted with:
Nickie

@HuntNLove has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh
Hunter's reply came with a nod. A reply to not only her, but to the moment. It was a reply to the world asking him the questions why suddenly, Hunter Mason Drake, had such an eye-opening realization.

And that was honestly the easiest question he could answer.

In the middle of his high, Hunter stepped closer to the school and took in a deep breath. He never felt more alive. The brisk night breeze that passed through him only seemed to intensify the overwhelming positive feeling that consumed him. And it obviously stemmed from the realization that he didn't need to be like Dei and Chas to be their friend (more Chas than Dei, of course). He didn't need to treat people like they were shit or that they didn't matter.

Like he did with Liv. Like he did with all of the other girls who asked out and crushed to please the side of him that was trying to impress them. It was that sort of thing that came to him so suddenly, that hit him in the face like a water balloon or something.

He took another moment to sniff up the fresh air. It an audible inhale — one that lasted for a few slow moments.

And then Hunter turned to face his girlfriend. His smile growing larger, the look in his dark eyes becoming filled with a genuine glow that, if someone had painted him right then and there, they might add a golden light in his irises to emphasize his changed attitude.

"Yeah! I mean, I was here with Ash a bit ago," he mentioned, laughing somewhat. "She didn't have anything to do with anything, but I just got to thinking, you know? Like why I was the way I was before we got together. Or hell!" Another laugh. "Before we even started talking. You know, it's one of those hilarious things you realize in hindsight. You do these things to impress the wrong people and realize you didn't need to because they were with you before you did these things."

Hunter realized he probably wasn't making any sense. So he took a step back from it, rewinded himself, and started over.

"I mean, when I first met Chas and Dei, I was someone they could mold, ya know? They saw me with the potential as someone who might be the next them. And I was okay with it. I looked up them. I saw them as big brothers. And to a degree, I still think of Chas as a brother. I mean, he's great and people give him shit for all the wrong reasons. But what I realized is that I can still be loyal to him without trying to be like him, y'know?"

He smiled and then took a step closer to Nickie, taking her hand in the process. "And that's why I'm smiling so much. I guess I'm kind of in the zone and now that you're here, I have even more of a reason to let everyone who might pass us by see my shiny teeth and me!" He knew that he sounded like an idiot when he said that and grinned like an idiot because of it.

º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how he's feeling...



    very good he likes it when he's so smart

















beel



batshit crazy drug addict












YES! The blonde guy was definitely catching Beel's drift—he had to with that smile essentially plastered on his face—and the bleached little man's effort to find Javier was most certainly worth every Broadway award-winning performance so far. For sure, you didn't think that the blondie was the only person Beel begged for help, quite literally on his knees, right? He did this schtick like three times before he decided to do it to the boy now in front of him. But it mattered not because his feet now stood firmly on the right path. They had to be on the right track that lead to Javier.

...or, maybe not.

One could easily see Beel's face go from "thank you, kind stranger" to "you better fuck right off and stop wasting my valuable time" as the taller boy said he had nothing to do with Javier. The grip in his hands loosened around the blondie's own because there was clearly no point in holding onto him if he wasn't good for anything whatsoever. All of this was for nothing. Even if poor Beel was tired, and if acting had been a very troublesome and exhausting thing. Truth be told, he might not have had enough juice in him to do another show, and then all he would be was sober and surrounded by smelly teenagers—nasty fuckers. That absolutely could not have happened. The last time he could recall that he had been surrounded by peers with no drugs in his system was kindergarten, and that was unquestionably the darkest time of the little man's life. No way was he living through that again.

But luckily for both of them, blondie continued speaking. It felt like the light at the end of a tunnel, but more accurately, the camera light on the tube during a colonoscopy. Yeah, have fun picturing that one.

Their hands separated before blondie, now known as Felix Emmerson, put out his sweaty hand for Beel to shake. That felt like energy-wasting because they were obviously already in some weird handshake anyway. Some people had to have their way, Beel guessed, so he shook the hand before speaking:

"I am Beelzebub, lover of catgirl pillows, child of God. Well, not really. Those suck; the pillows, not God. God is obviously a strict top. Toxic masculinity if you ask me."
Words sometimes left the little bleached man's mouth without him even coming up with them, and he just let them because who even cared about it.

Wait a freaking minute. Was Beel the smartest motherfucker on this earth or what!? He managed to find a drug dealer that wasn't Javier and had actually known how to sell and keep his customers satisfied (emphasis on not being Javier)! That was it, move over Einstein, here comes Beelzebub Woods with his soon-to-be world-known shroom theorem.

Each step towards wherever it was that Felix was leading him felt like a step towards success. Beel could basically taste them more and more the closer he got to them, but that could've easily just been ugly Camille's makeup drifting across the city. God knew she needed a lot of it to hide that fucked up thing she called a face.

Maybe the mere mental image of ugly Camille's face also made the air around Beel turn sour, or at least that was what he wanted to believe. The truth that was being in a changing room had been far more devastating because, with each whiff, he felt more and more things he simply didn't want to. It smelled like boy pee and Uber drivers. It brought back memories. Barf!

"What the fuck is this? I don't know how to play dodgeball. I'm not playing dodgeball. I don't play dodgeball on the first date. Not that kind of guy."
He rambled as Felix ruffled through a bag in a random locker in the locker room. But it took milliseconds for him to shut up as Felix started talking, and that just showed just how desperate he had been.

"If you have shrooms, I'll suck your dick, no joke. Nobody here ever has shrooms."
It was, by far, his favorite thing out of the drug repertoire (not dick), hence going on a nice little road trip during the summer.

"I just really really like shrooms, and I think it's because when I was a kid, my mom cooked me mushroom soup which wasn't even that good, but it reminds me of her."
As he explained (or more so continued to ramble), he smiled sentimentally, like one would when talking about their dead mother.
"She's not dead, though; she's just a cunt."












































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
[
I am, I am trying
The best that I can

M O O D : undetermined

O U T F I T : fit

L O C A T I O N : inside dean's office

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

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

T A G S : Xed Xed

​

She read through the file quickly. Snapping photos as she went. Was it the story she was looking for? Absolutely not. Was it something she could use in the future? Most likely. It’d be entertaining. Plus, her dads always said that celebrity gossip was an essential part of the business. Why else would people leak stories about themselves? Stay relevant. That was the goal. No one gave two shits if they didn’t know who you were. That’s how they justified it anyway.

"Looks like I do have my uses beyond being a scapegoat then, but there's also no harm in admitting you just want to keep me around you know."

He really did love the sound of his own voice. It wasn’t annoying. It was amusing. How much confidence he had with very little evidence to support that she’d find it as such. He was a plastic. No surprise that confidence ran through his blood. “You want a cookie for being able to read, Kirby?” She felt him lean in and whisper in her ear. A smirk formed as she tilted her head back and glanced up at him. “You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna impress me.” She snapped the file shut and set it back on the desk.

Lydia stepped out of Dalton’s place and took another quick glance around. Nothing. Maybe the dean wised up and realized how she had been getting her information. She wasn’t a total idiot, so she guessed that meant something. More of a challenge. And she could settle for the expose--story about the Clairmont Triplets. It’d put her in favor with the dean -- highlighting the school usually did that. For a while anyway.

"Anything else you would like to dig through in this office Fox?"

She sighed. “No. I think we found all we are going to find. Damn this year is turning out to be extremely boring.” So, that wasn’t entirely true. It had its moments. The rumor about Nickie being pregnant was fun. Put that bitch in her place...for a moment at least. Callum? Well...it worked out for him in the end and Lucky and Javi. The dude made the wrong choice of hook-up. Sure, she felt bad. Sort of. But...you fuck at a party...people are gonna find out. It wasn’t her fault. She gave the people the information and they did what they always do.

“Alright, Watson, where to next?” She asked as she made her way to the door. “Please tell me it involves booze cause that’s the only way I’m gonna make it through this night.”
LYDIA FOX
º º code by ditto º º
 






felix rian emmerson
pleasure's all mine


Felix’s grin broadened in mild confusion as Beel offered to…uh…suck his dick for shrooms.

Which...aight, alrighty, okay.

Well, that wasn’t the first time that he’d gotten that offer…though usually they came in the alleys and street corners and not in the locker room of the high school. He was kinda used to that sorta thing, but bein' used to it didn’t necessarily make him used to it.

Er, well…pretty much, Felix was wingin' it as far as a response went.

“Hey, no need, no need,” Felix chuckled. “As long as you can pay, there’ll be no need for prostitution.”

Might as well state it bluntly.

Oh wait, that didn’t come out entirely correctly.

He laughed again. “Or, erm, even if you can’t, we can work something else out. No need for that kinda oral communication.” He gave a sure nod, and then he chuckled. “I’d like to get to know ya better first, blondie,” he kidded lightly.

He adjusted his grip on his backpack, givin’ it a little jiggle so as not to allow time for the last comment to ruminate. (It was better not to let “puttin’ the charm on” via mild flirtation be processed immediately.) “You’re in luck, though, Mister Beelzebub.” Felix made his way over to a bench and sat down with his bag, and he began to rifle through it as his new, bleach-haired companion— customer, same difference— started chatterin' away.

“I just really really like shrooms, and I think it’s because when I was a kid, my mom cooked me mushroom soup which wasn’t even that good, but it reminds me of her,” Beelzebub said.

Felix glanced up at the other boy to catch a slight, sentimental smile on his face. Felix raised his eyebrows and went back to lookin’ through the bag. “I’m sorry to hear about—“

“She’s not dead, though; she’s just a c unt,” Beelzebub finished.

Felix chuckled softly. “Oh, I see. I gotcha, I got it.” He shoved a binder out of the way, strainin' his neck to look better through all of the— oh, no, nevermind. He wasn’t gonna tell about the contents of his bag, because that would reveal all of his little hidey holes, and…well, it wasn’t to say that he didn’t trust you or anything like that, but it just wasn’t good for business for anyone besides himself to know the whereabouts of the product, you know? “Moms tend to be that way,” he said sympathetically, and then he chuckled. “I mean, not that mine’s one’a those old Southern, Alabaman ‘beat you over the head with a spoon for eatin’ with your elbows on the table’-types from those movies or nothin’, but…Momma and I tend not to get along all that wonderfully. C unt is a strong word, but she’s…somewhere in that area.”

Not really. Him and his mom got along wonderfully. Sure, she was wine drunk most of the time that he was at home, but what else was there for an LA housewife to be except pumped full of botox, gossipin’ with so-called friends, and swirlin' some red wine while braggin' about how well your son’s doin’ and chucklin’ at the glares you get, ya know? That was really the dream.

Seriously, if Felix could, he’d drop out and become an LA housewife. Lounge around all day in a robe with a chihuahua who he named after one of his exes (his mom’s chihuahua was named “Bert”, poor thing), talk on a rotary phone for the aesthetic…damn. The dream life, really.


He finally retrieved a small bag from a classified space in his backpack, savin’ him from havin’ to continue pullin’ conversation outta his ass.

Felix stood, walkin’ over to his new customer with a wide grin on his face. “Well, here’s the fixin’s, Mister Beelzebub, just as requested.” He held his hand out for the cash— he never let them take it first.

It just generally wasn’t a good idea, y’know? Felix ran a tight ship— he couldn’t be gettin’ swindled. Damaged his reputation and shortened his stock.




mood
; )

location
the school

outfit
somethin' casual





playing...
take a slice
by glass animals​




mentions
n/a

interactions
beel

tags
mogy mogy


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:






dominicka abrams
have you heard?


Hunter was so…excited; Nickie couldn’t compute it.

It was like…it wasn’t getting through to her. It wasn’t something that she could understand.

She was looking at it, processing it, but she wasn’t…grasping it.

He was happy. He looked happy.

And she was…she was confused, and she was pissed, and she was nauseous, and she was…

She was going to fucking cry.

She felt everything.

She felt nothing.

She just.

Felt.

Ugh.

And she knew that it was better to be alone, better to get away, better to ask Hunter for a minute by herself.

But she was already here, and she had already cried over not seeing him, so it felt wrong to leave him now.

Even as the rage burned in her chest at how happy he looked.

His smile was so big and was somehow growing larger. His eyes were glowing.

“Yeah! I mean, I was here with Ash a bit ago,” he said, laughing slightly.

Ash.

The name made her clutch her stomach.

Her eyes stung, her throat stung.

It all stung.

“She didn’t have anything to do with anything, but I just go to thinking, you know? Like why I was the way I was before we got together. Or hell! Before we even started talking. You know, it’s one of those hilarious things you realize in hindsight. You do these things to impress the wrong people and realize you didn’t need to because they were with you before you did these things.”

Nickie was confused, but she nodded, her smile growing tighter.

Her eyes were welling.

Goddamn it.

She couldn’t stop it.

Fuck.

She felt so sick.

"I mean, when I first met Chas and Dei, I was someone they could mold, ya know? They saw me with the potential as someone who might be the next them. And I was okay with it. I looked up them. I saw them as big brothers. And to a degree, I still think of Chas as a brother. I mean, he's great and people give him shit for all the wrong reasons. But what I realized is that I can still be loyal to him without trying to be like him, y'know?"

She didn’t care, she didn’t care, she didn’t care.

She couldn’t get it, couldn’t understand it right now.

She was hardly listening, and she wasn’t fucking computing.

She wanted to cry.

She wanted to get away.

She couldn’t understand anything.

She couldn’t.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This was a mistake.

It was a mistake even coming out here.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

He took a step closer to her, and she looked at the ground.

He took her hand, and she flinched slightly, and then she squeezed her face together.

Sick.

Sick.

Sick.

Holy fuck.

She felt so sick.

She swallowed hard.

“And that's why I'm smiling so much.”

Fucking stop it.

“I guess I'm kind of in the zone and now that you're here, I have even more of a reason to let everyone who might pass us by see my shiny teeth and me!"

She looked up at him slowly, her eyes glassy.

She searched his face—

And then her knees buckled, and she stumbled back a step.

She clutched her stomach with her free hand.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she insisted quickly, before he could express his concern. “I’m fine, seriously.” Her voice was weak.

She looked up at him, forcing a slight smile. She was pallid and pasty.

“Good for you,” she said, repeating what she said before. “You look…happy,” she breathed. “And…I’m…”

She clutched a hand over her mouth as another wave of nausea washed over her.

Her world unfocused as the film of tears over her eyes grew thicker.

Oh, fuck.

“Hunter,” she mumbled, uncovering her mouth for a second. “Can…I…my…” She lowered her hand, reaching into her pocket, and then she tossed her keys at him. “My car…please,” she said, trying to make a sentence but only managing that.

I need to sit down, before I fall out or cry or puke all over you.




mood
...

location
the school

outfit
casual wear





playing...
letdown
by carter​




mentions
ash

interactions
hunter

tags
natsukashii natsukashii


º º code by ditto º º
 




































  • how he's feeling...



    very good he likes it when he's so smart

















beel



batshit crazy drug addict












Look at them bonding over having difficult mothers. Too bad Beel didn't actually despise his mom as he claimed to have. He and his mother actually had a better relationship than one would expect for a kid who changed their name to Beelzebub to have with his mother. They talked every day on the phone, a statement which could be taken with a grain of salt because the little man rarely remembered more than three days in a row without a complete blackout. How often he actually talked to his mother was information available to only her, considering she didn't have the same shroom obsession as her son.

But that was enough of talk about Beel's mother. Instead, he focused on what the boy in front of him said and what he had been doing. It appeared that some shrooms did manage to get into the social circles of Hollywood Arts, and more and more did the little man really think of blondie in front of him as a gift sent by God himself. This was definitely a reward for some good deed Beel did. It must have been. What good deed the little man did, nobody knows... Maybe it was just a courtesy for existing and making the lives of the people around him engaging. Yeah, that was clearly it.

The transaction was coming to an end, obvious by the kind words leaving Felix's mouth and his stance that indicated Beelzebub's soon-to-be high. Ready for what he asked for, the little man put his hand forward only to be met by the same view before him.

Oh, this guy wasn't joking. Not that Beel would scam him or anything like that, but at least the bleached little bundle of joy knew who he would buy from now on. If blondie was this cautious about the lone transaction, the drugs in his possession must have also been pretty good. Lovely!

"Oh, yes. The cash; the gold; the bank; the coins; the thing that makes the world go around..."
Beel mumbled as he searched all of his pockets for some cash. He must have taken some with him, but it appeared that the biggest bills always made their way just out of his reach, and that made him look like he was checking if he had money, to begin with.

But no, he surely had money. He remembered putting it in his pockets just before he left, but that could've also been before he left for his road-trip, so the two of them, standing in the smelly locker room, were left to just a little bit of a "deal or no deal" type of situation.

Putting the smaller bills and all the change he could get from his pockets into Felix's hands, he didn't bother counting it, but maybe the drug dealer would be a kind soul and give him some freebies for the first buy.
"Yup. That's all I got."
He admitted, looking all over once again before looking up at Felix and putting on a big-ass grin. You have to admit, the charm was definitely there. Was the charm a good thing or not was to be determined by Felix's answer to the question Beel was about to ask:

"So you give Beelzebub the shrooms? I would love that. And you can go to bed knowing you did a really good deed today."
Whoever said Beel wasn't nice; here he was, literally sharing free good karma to anyone who wanted it. If you ever needed some good moral integrity before bed in exchange for drugs, you now knew who to look for.

"I don't know, but if I was a drug dealer, some good morals before bed would be just what I need."
He pleaded once again, putting his hand forward hoping to feel the plastic bag with some shrooms touch his skin.











































♡coded by uxie♡
 
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