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

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

He was exhausted, but in a good way exhausted. There was an easygoing smile on his face as his heart beat in his chest. He leaned over the desk in front of him, his arms dangling down over the wooden front as he rested his chin on top of it, just trying to catch his breath. He smiled as Charlie and Lin both seemed to calm down from the few minutes of chaotic war that had just occurred, the adrenaline in the room dying away.

A few minutes of mindless chatter later, and Lin and Charlie headed off. Granted, Zeph probably could've tagged along, but he wasn't sure how much more of... well... Lin and Charlie he could handle. Sure, they were super fun and he enjoyed being around them, but they also got exhausting very quickly.

For a while after they had departed, Zeph just turned around and leaned his back against the desk. His eyes fell shut, and he let his breathing try to return to its steady rhythm.

Now that the adrenaline had faded and he was alone with his thoughts, he felt a certain level of... guilt overcoming him. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the ground and stood up. His gaze swept over the wrecked literature room, and Zeph couldn't help but wince as he looked at the disaster that they had caused. Surely the cleanup crew would have this all organized and put back together by Monday and the lit kids would never know, but...

There was still a little amount of guilt.

After all, he was friends with some of--

Okay, he wasn't, but he was rooming with a lit student. Avery probably wouldn't think anything of it, of course. The poor boy was kind of dense, but that didn't mean that it helped to quell the guilt that was bubbling in Zeph's chest.

He stepped out of the lit room and started down the hallway, walking nowhere fast. He used part of his shirt that was clean to try and wipe away the paint that was stuck on his face and in his hair but, without a mirror, he couldn't tell if he was just smearing it around more, or if he was actually cleaning himself up. He sighed, stretching his arms out in front of him as he assessed the string and paint that was stuck to him.

There was a lot. He needed a shower but he wasn't about to take a shower at school on a Saturday.

So instead, he just started to brush the silly string from his clothes and his skin as he walked.

His meandering steps wandered the hallways and soon, he found himself wandering through the music department's area of the school -- which he swore to god was bigger than the other departments and better funded, not that he was about to say anything about that. He glanced into the classrooms as he passed by, especially the ones that were lit up, and it was glancing into one of the music rooms that he saw his buddy, Auguste.

At first, Zeph's steps kept going, so he had to double back as he walked over to the music room, his knuckles rapping against the door before he pulled it open slowly. He smiled at Auguste as he stepped into the room, pulling the door closed behind him and not noticing the blue that he smeared across the handle and door as he stepped in.

"Hey, what're you doing in here?" He asked.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
Lost Boys

by Ocean Park Standoff​

mentions
Avery

interactions
Lin, Charlie, Auguste

tags
ohdittoh geminiy qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[qunqun]

MOOD:
Perpetually nervous

OUTFIT:
Dark blue long sleeve Henley t-shirt and brown cargo pants

LOCATION:
Music room

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Zeph @Winona

tags

TL;DR:
Nope

tl;dr

Auguste

Auguste was back to composing. He was struggling to think of any kind of lyrics or music. He continued to strum the guitar, almost absent-mindedly and without any kind of rhythm. Sometimes he got up, grabbed his phone from where he’d put it across the room to stop distracting himself, fooled around on Twitter for a bit. Creative block was beginning to kill him. The music just wasn’t coming to him, and it was awful, the one time he actually had time to compose. An entire night without any distractions, and he had nothing. He was blanking terribly. He continued strumming the guitar, trying to come up with anything.

His music usually came from pain… which sucked because honestly being a hermit and a workaholic had done wonders for his mental stability. There were no buses to throw his heart under when all he was doing was practicing his dance techniques, learning how to play guitar, studying for tests, doing homework and learning how to use home studio software and refusing to have a social life. Good for his nerves, bad for his creative stimulation.

“Open or closed fist would be fine. The blood is as sweet and rare as cherry wine.” He half hummed, half sang as he strummed the guitar line that accompanied it. A line that he was throwing around in his head…. trying to decide if he wanted to be THAT kind of artist that laid their trauma out for the world and just ASSUMED people would want to listen to him.

No. Selfish, selfish. Fucking selfish. This song was awful. Why did he ever decide to write one line of one song? Ughhhhhh.

And then a thought occurred to him. Instead of his fucked up family, what if it was about a fucked up relationship? Then, it would not be about him but more… like… a PSA about domestic violence or something. Yes, this was emotionally healthy. Genius. He was a genius ( he wasn’t, but his therapist (that he no longer talks to because he’s fine now) told him he needed to be more self-congratulatory so… he was a fucking genius thank you very much).

And right as he was about to begin actually trying to compose, there was a knock. And the friendly… friend. Person. Thing. Zeph. It was Zeph. He walked in. He was covered in paint- why was he covered in paint. He left blue paint on the door handle. Zeph was a nice guy, nothing but pleasant to Auguste. Which was suspicious. Auguste was pretty sure Zeph was going to snap and start killing people with a chainsaw any day now, but in the meantime, Zeph was a pleasant enough person to be around. Not loud. Auguste would gladly be a victim of Zeph’s inevitable murderous rampage. And then Auguste’s brain caught up with the sudden events.

Zeph. In the music room. There is a guitar. In his hands. Zeph smiling at him. Zeph is asking him what he’s doing in the music room. And he’s still awkwardly thumbing the guitar strings of the melody he had just been composing. The guitar that he was not supposed to be playing. Or know how to play, for that matter.

Auguste continued staring at Zeph like a deer in the headlights, completely frozen. Then a blink, he looked down at the guitar in his lap, then back at Zeph. Another couple of blinks.

“... Nothing.” Came the brilliant reply. Nailed it. “What are you doing here?” He put the guitar aside, hands in his lap and wringing themselves, his long legs crossing in some misguided attempt to appear normal-sized. Auguste pulled his hair out of his eyes and behind his ears an awkward fluttery slightly forced smile to match Zeph's.

Blink. Blink. “Wait no that doesn’t matter. Why are you covered in paint.”

code by valen t.

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

Lindsay “Crack Kid” Kay tended to have a certain “I don’t give a fuck” air about himself. Obviously he did. Duuuuh. When you were as fucking sick as he was, you really stopped caring about pretty much everything else, luhmao. With his trolling? His constant betting? His persistence of doing whatever the hell he wanted, even after people repeatedly criticized him for it? Him (albeit mostly jokingly) name-calling every person around him— even his own dad? Yeah, it was pretty easy to say that Lin didn’t give a single, flying eff-you-see-kay.

This air, of course, was…eh, somewhat deceiving. Lin usually didn’t talk about it, but there were a lotta things that he did give at least a couple of fucks about.

Number one: his mom. Kinda hard not to give a fuck about his mom. She was half of the reason he existed— and the other half was the textbook definition of “sleazy deadbeat” and Lin didn’t wanna talk about him, luhmao.

Number two: bread. ‘nuff said. All hail the Gluten God. Insert heavenly voices here.

Numbers all-of-the-rest-of-them: Charlie, Zeph, and all of his other friends.

Actually, maybe they went above bread.

With his heart thudding in his chest, Lindsay couldn’t stop grinning. He felt all warm and fuzzy— not just because he’d just fuckin’ annihilated his best friend and his girlfriend in a paint war, but also because he just really fucking loved them.

Deadass.

“Yeah, we’re pretty dope,” Charlie said as he shoved five crackers in his mouth and crunched them loudly. “Oh, and I guess you’re pretty okay too, minus the fact that you totally just cheated to win that little battle we just had.”

“Uuy!” Lin huffed, mouth full of crackers. “Nuhh ‘aiuh!”

Yeah! No fair!

She pointed a finger at him, scowling. “We’re rematching at some point, by the way.”

Laughing, Lin swallowed down his crackers. “You’re really hype to get your ass beat again already?” he teased. “Luhmao, aight— fucking bet.”

For a few more minutes, the warm-hearted Lin antagonized Charlie and Zeph whilst eating his crackers, kidding his friends about how well the splatters of paint suited them, mimicking their expressions on the battlefield, and saying that they “owe him a fucking statue”. (Duh. He singlehandedly handed his girlfriend and his best friend their asses— he needed to have a statue erected in his honor.) But the whole time, Lin couldn’t stop smiling, and his heart couldn’t stop thudding in his chest with the kinda sentimental swell.

He loved his friends. He just loved ‘em so much.

Like…

Okay, yeah, forget them being maybe above bread. They were definitely above bread.

Wait, above bread? Blehhh, he was going all warm ’n fuzzy— next thing he knew, he’d morph into a giant caterpillar.

‘course, him as a giant caterpillar would still kick ass at paint battles. And battles of any kind. But then, he wouldn’t be able to reach his mouth as well. Tiny arms, ess-em-aych. Even with a shit ton of them, it’d fucking suck. No easy access to candy. Sad.

Bro, but…now that he thought about it, hugging a giant caterpillar would be fucking dope, wouldn’t it? It’d be all warm and wiggly, and you’d just reach out and hug it and it’d squish. He needed to hit up Pricky about that.

Brooo, imagine: “Ayo, Daaaad, you wanna pay someone to biomechanically engineer me a gigantic worm friend? I won’t hate your guts. Pweaaase. For meeee?”

‘course, Lin would still hate his guts, but he had to act like he liked him to his face already, so why not get a worm outta it?

Where was he?

Oh, right. Narrating.

Charlie reached into her pocket, jiggling a set of keys in front of Lin.

“So, are we gonna break into this storage building or not?” Charlie asked, eyes alight with excitement. “Because I did not put all that effort into stealing these keys not to do some good ol’ B&E.”

“Hell yeah— you bet your ass, luhmao!” Lin cheered, pawing at the keys like a cat. “Lez goooo!”

Throwing the now empty box of crackers away, Lin dusted his hands off on his paint-soaked shirt and made his way to the yellow jacket that had been tied around his waist.

Or, well, it was yellow. Now it was cyan and green and purple, too.

Putting the big part of the jacket on top of his head, Lin tied the sleeves around his face, covering his ears and knotting it tightly beneath his chin. He touched his new hairpiece, grinning widely, and he turned his head to the left and to the right to test out the swishibility.

How swishy was it? Hella, luhmao. Ten outta ten, would swish again.

He walked over to the door, propping himself up on the doorframe. For one time tonight, he was actually silent, his brain mostly empty. His eyes watched Charlie shove the snacks back into the bag, his contented grin growing wider.

Giiiiirlfriend. Lin had a giiiirlfriend.

It was still kinda weird to him, that he and Charlie weren’t just rivals anymore, or friends, or whatever the hell they were before they got together. It was an oddly easy thing to do— to say that she was his girlfriend. But it was also like…

Lin. Had. A. Girlfriend.

Not an “it’s complicated, we’re friends who like each other but aren’t gonna together” kinda thing. Not even an “I wanna be with you but my dads hate you, so lol no” kinda thing.

An actual, legit girlfriend.

He could feel himself blushing as the realization dawned on him again. It kinda happened every time he remembered it.

Like, damn, nothing felt different, but at the same time…it felt so good.

So much better than rivalry, though they were still rivals. So much better than friendship, though they were still friends.

He didn’t know how to explain it, luhmao. His brain fucking short-circuited every time he tried, luhmao.

Ewwww, what’s this? Feelies? Groooooooooooss! Cooties, Linny! Girls have cooties! he teased himself inwardly, and then he chuckled softly aloud.

Hush up, Linlin, he thought, grinning widely. It’s Charlie we’re talking about.

Charlie approached him now, and he popped out of his sentimental little zone, still blushing, grinning ear-to-ear as his heart beat happily and briskly in his chest.

“Bye, Zeph! Catcha later, my widdle Beaver Ass Prophet!” he said, letting Charlie take his hand with a laugh as he waved goodbye to his bro-from-another-mo.

Damnnnnn, life was goooood. Fuck all week— he was living in the right now, and all of his worries were far away.

His hand in his girlfriend’s, Lin walked down the hallway with Charlie, making his way towards the stairs.

“Okay so here’s what I’m thinkin’,” Charlie began.

Lin glanced over at her, shoving open the door to the stairway with his shoulder and pausing to make sure she cleared it before he let it close. “Lay it on me, Terminator,” he said, grinning widely.

“We bust in, do a little exploring to see what we can dig up, and then we find some souvenirs,” she started explaining. “Ya know, cool stuff that people aren’t really gonna miss too much but sti—“

She cut herself off, and he looked over at her. “Sti—“ he started with a grin, about to tease her, but then he cut himself short when he saw her holding up a finger and pulling out her phone. His grin drooped slightly. “What is it?” he asked curiously, reaching for his own phone with his free hand.

“Oh, just fucking wonderful,” Charlie said, just as Lin saw it for himself. “Nickie’s dildo has decided to rip on Ash in the main. Reaaal classy, Hunter.”

“Belegh-legh-legh,” Lin said in agreement, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue. Taking his hand from Charlie’s, he started to type on his phone.

That was the thing about Hollywood Farts, luhmao. Constant drama—

This time, though, the drama-causer was unlucky, ‘cuz Ashy J was another person who Lin actually gave a fuck about.

Trolling powers, activate, luhmao.

With a fucking vengeance. The bitch boy was goin’ dooooown.

Lin’s fingers tapped in righteous anger, doing the thing that they did best: annoying the absolute shit out of the perpetrator until he finally pussied out and said “deuces”.

Fuck, and right when it was getting good! C’mon, he couldn’t even react to his damn Linrick? Lin’d spent a whole ass five seconds trying to think that shit up, ess-em-aych.

“Fucking hypocrite,” Charlie spat, shoving her phone in his pocket.

Lin rolled his eyes. “And a pussy,” he added. “Chas’ titty-sucker couldn’t even read the Linrick? Ess-em-aych.”

“Great work on the Linricks though, that was some A+ wordsmithing there. Shut him up real good,” she complimented.

“Damn right,” Lin said proudly. “He’s a little bitch,” he felt the need to add again.

‘cuz he was. He was probably even a littler bitch than Angel.

That’d be impressive if it weren’t so sad, luhmao.

Lips pursing in concern, Lin sent a few quick texts to Ash. Look, say what you wanted to about Lin, but the guy could tell when his friends were upset.

And the way to cure upset-edness, in Lin’s eyes? Candy.

yo ashy

on a scale of 1 to 10 where are you at

or actually

i got candy for you

whether you want it or not

where are you gonna be later so i can give it to you since i figure you prolly dont want anyone around rn cuz youre giving me those vibes

or where is your uh sleeping bag or whatever

i can just tape it to that for you

There.

He hoped she was good, though.

Seriously. Little tit baby Hunter was someone who she cared about, so it had to fucking suck.

He dropped his phone into his pocket just as they hit the main floor. “Aight,” he muttered to himself, sighing softly.

“Is that Hunter?” Charlie asked.

Lin looked around in the stairwell, confused.


“Wait here,” Charlie said, holding up a finger and walking through the door.

Lin let the door close behind her, then pressed his face against the window, putting his hands around his eyes like binoculars and squinting.

Bruh.

Lin covered his mouth with one hand, stifling a guffaw.

There was Hunter, and—

Was the dude pissing in a storage closet?

Lin needed those fucking opera glasses.

Shit was boutta go down.

Hunter said something, Charlie said something, and then—

Bop!

Lin grimaced, hissing through his teeth as Charlie kneed the guy in the groin, and he instinctively covered his own in sympathy.

Ouchiiiiiiiie.

Wham!

Next thing Lin knew, Hunter was being punched in the face.

“Take his tooth! Take his tooth! Take his tooth!” Lin chanted, though the speck that was Charlie down the hall outside definitely couldn’t hear him.

He saw Charlie approaching again, and he quickly stepped back from the door, whistling an offkey version of the classic “My Heart Will Go On” and tapping his foot to pretend as though he hadn’t seen anything.

Charlie pushed through the door and into the stairwell, then turned to Lin, smiling widely. “Now that felt good.”

Lin perked up, looking at Charlie and smiling back. “Tell me all about it,” he said.

• • • • •​

The cool November air felt fucking bomb against Lin’s skin. He sighed contentedly, grinning widely.

You know how in Shrek the Third, Snow White sings and some birds come, and then they all storm the palace or some shit like that? Yeah, Lin was feeling that right now.

“Here we are!” Charlie announced as they arrived at the storage building, digging in her pocket.

Lin walked forward until he hit it, and he flopped his arms against it, sighing happily. He gave it a kiss with a loud “mwah!”, then patted it a couple of times before stepping back.

It was for good luck. Duh.

As Charlie unlocked the building with the stolen keys, Lin untied the jacket from his head and, for the first time of the night, actually put it on his body the way it was supposed to go. “Op-en it!” Lin chanted, pumping his fists to the beat. “Op-en it! Op-en it!” When she shoved the doors open, Lin cheered loudly, clapping his hands.


“Home sweet home, Terminator,” Charlie said, reaching into her backpack and handing Lin a flashlight.

“Trautes Heim, Glück allein,” Lin agreed, nodding. “Terminator,” he added, grinning.

He knew pretty much one phrase in German, and that was the one, luhmao.

Charlie clicked on her flashlight and stepped into the building, and Lin gave the front end of his a good luck kiss and followed suit.

Inside, the thing looked bigger than it did outside, and Lin gave an excited laugh that echoed slightly. “Fuckin’ sick,” he breathed.

Everything inside was covered in a thin layer of dust. He shoved a rack of costumes aside, sending puffs of dust off of them, and he laughed at the particles as they swirled in the light of his flashlight.

While Charlie went down the more beaten path towards the back, Lin shoved the back of his flashlight into his mouth to hold it. He tested the sturdiness of the clothing rack with a couple quick tugs downward, and then he grabbed the top of it, lifting himself up with soft, muffled noises up effort. The rack scooted slightly, but Lin held tight, looking downward to see what was around him. He reached out with his foot, managing to grip the top of a large box with his shoes, and he grunted, wiggling back and forth on the rack to build up momentum before pushing himself off.

Quickly jerking all of his weight forward, he managed to latch onto the corner of the box without slipping, and he shimmied until all of his butt was on top of the box. He then pulled the flashlight from the top of his mouth, holding it as far above his head as possible and twisting his wrist to scan the area.

His eyes followed the line of light as it illuminated one bright circle of items at a time—

And then he saw something that made his eyes light up.

He focused his flashlight on it, and then he slowly move his wrist downward, tracing a trail with the light a few slow times until he had the best— and most fun— path plotted.

Quickly shoving the light into his mouth, Lin shoved off of the box, landing on the ground with a whump!. He took a moment to readjust, looking around and trying to decide which was he’d planned his path. Everything looked different from the ground, you know.

Soon enough, he’d figured it out, and with a quiet, victorious snicker, he began to make his way towards the holy grail.

The first task was to make his through more racks of clothing, which he shoved through like an explorer in the jungle, giggling to himself behind his mouth-flashlight. When he made his way past the jungle of clothing, he saw a poof of dust explode from the final rack, which made him laugh harder.

Then came the technical equipment, which was just a bunch of dodging because, bleh, boooring and too complicated to climb on.

After the technical equipment, though, came the home stretch: bits and pieces of carnival equipment.

Giving a wiggle of his butt, Lin hopped and propelled himself towards a large piece of something or other, grabbing onto it as he landed and putting his feet on a small, steel ledge. He then looked to the piece across from him, wiggled his butt, pushed forward, and grabbed the side again.

Repeating this process down the lane of equipment, Lin finally dropped down the ground, and there they were, in all their glory— right beside a cleared, easily-accessible path, of course, but not a fun path: the teacups.

Yep, that was right— the gigantic teacups from the gigantic teacup ride, stored all nice and safely right near the back of the storage shed.

Triumphantly, Lin whipped his flashlight just from his mouth, just as the oddly-near disembodied voice of Charlie asked, “Any luck, Lin?”

Walking towards the voice and in the direction of the cleared path to the side of the teacups, Lin laughed happily. “You’ll never fucking believe it, Charles,” he said. He stepped into the clearing, and a bit down the way he could see Charlie. He blinked his flashlight at her to get her attention, and then waved his hands. “C’mere, c’mere!” he called, and he disappeared back towards the teacups, which only really involved pushing past another couple racks of costumes.

Lin stuck his flashlight in his mouth just as Charlie came into view, gesturing behind himself. “Waa-baaaa!” he exclaimed muffledly and happily, giving jazz hands before pulling the flashlight from his mouth. He cackled happily. “Ta-fucking-da, luhmao!”

He looked back at the glorious things, and he approached a teal cup. He gave the side a solid pat. “Look at these! Look at ‘em!” he said, voice full of awe. “Who coulda fucking guessed that they’d store this shit in here, of all places, luhmao?”

mood


location
the school

outfit
lookin fly as always

playing...
all i do is win

by dj khaled​

mentions
hunter

interactions
zeph & charlie (& ash by text, technically)

tags
Winona geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Isabella Dupont

@bellaissima has set their status to:
Mood

@bellaissima has set their outfit to:
comfy cozy

@bellaissima has set their location to:
under the bleachers

@bellaissima has mentioned:
n/a

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Avery, Kelli, Ronnie, Casey, Cami

@bellaissima has tagged:
Xed ohdittoh hery Winona jasmyn

“Bella, it’s the Clairmonts! Crazy, right? The real ones!”

An awkward laugh fell from Bella’s lips at Kelli’s excitement as her gaze passed between the two siblings. The Clairmonts, was that supposed to mean something? Bella hadn’t ever been one to keep up with the latest news of Hollywood, nor had she any desire to know all the names people were dropping on a daily basis. It was no surprise that Bella saw most of the other students as normal peers rather than celebrities she was roaming the halls with because of that little fact and clearly, the Clairmonts were no exception.

The energy in the group was… a lot to say the least. Between Kelli’s excited ramblings (apparently she was a big fan of the Clairmonts), Casey’s request to party (hopefully he could actually keep up that desire if they actually did decide to party), and the new redheaded girl bouncing up to the group (Ronnie was the name, if Bella had remembered correctly), Bella felt a bit overwhelmed. Voices spoke but Bella didn’t really register the words, instead forcing herself to nod along and laugh where applicable. At least everyone seemed nice, though Camille had an energy about her that was almost intimidating, and Bella had no problem with agreeing to Kelli’s suggestion of party games when it was brought up.

“Truth or dare, the great American pastime.” Bella giggled softly. “We should do it, it will be fun. Besides, Garçon de Citron over there requested a party and who are we to let him down? Follow me, I found a quiet place a little while ago when I first showed up.”

Bella made her way across the gym with the group, climbing up the bleachers that lined the back wall before carefully jumping through a gap in the seats to a wide open space underneath. Bella’s bag sat in the corner, nestled between a rolled up blanket and a pillow. Crossing her legs beneath her, Bella flopped down onto the blanket and pulled the pillow around her back to hug it against her chest.

“So, these party games you mentioned.” Bella began, stretching her legs out in front of her. “What do you have in mind? Would you rather is an easy one, or truth or dare?”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

Alejandra Cortez
"It's the job that's never started that takes longest to finish.”

@Realex has set their status to:
Eye on the ball.

@Realex has set their outfit to:
Lock in attire?

@Realex has interacted with:
Simone

@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi, Ava

@Realex has tagged:
natsukashii​

Lock-Ins were never her favorite.

Alex completely despised the idea of sleeping somewhere that wasn’t her own home. It took a little while to get used to her apartment with Ava, even then, she just felt very… out of place.

Why is she here then?

Well…

Because of someone.

Obviously.

Yes, say what you want. It’s only been a few weeks, but Alex likes someone. She couldn’t help it. Okay? Naomi was sweet, funny-- absolutely gorgeous. Maybe she was moving fast, maybe not. But all the signs were there.

Ava’s argument was completely baseless, while it had made some sense, Alejandra knew that one person’s opinion shouldn’t change how she sees someone else. She’s open minded… sometimes.

Their whole argument had been… something they haven’t talked about. The next day they went on like everything was normal.

That’s just how they usually were.

It wasn’t a big deal.

And if it had been, they’d talk about it. Although they’ve never had anything that serious to ‘talk’ about. Thankfully, Alex and Ava weren’t typical girls who’s feelings had gotten involved in everything.

Both were sarcastic, laid-back, and obsessed with horror.

They were platonic soulmates.

Yes, Alejandra one-hundred percent believed in soulmates. Maybe not in the way that most do, but that’s okay. Soulmates were just finding that person you connect with. It can be anyone, it could be multiple. Not that Alex would ever admit any of that to Ava, or… anyone else.

Okay, so clearly Alex’s feelings got involved in some things.

Fine.

Most things.

There was a grey area though.

That grey area?

Her writing of course.

There, Alex needed a completely clear head to focus on what she was writing… or else she’d seep into the whole play and that isn’t what she wanted. The last thing anyone needed was a play about herself.

It’d be a trainwreck.

Alex was sitting on the bleachers of the gymnasium, typing away onto her computer and attempting to adapt her play into a full-blown script for the film.

Yes, the film.

Chas Marino was like an angel.

Well, an angel if they were to be bribed.

She’d call him the devil, but Alex is in no way about to make a deal with the devil. So, for now… Chas was an angel who had accepted her proposition and the two were going to create a film based off of her 1950s murder, rom-com mess.

And it was going to be glorious.

All she needed was peace, and quie--

“Yo! I’m open.”

Apparently, somebody who decided to come in lock in for a quick 3v3 on the gymnasium court believed that they needed to announce every single time they were open as if team cues weren’t a thing.

Alright, okay.

It was clear the guy didn’t know basketball.

And it was a horrific sight to see.

“Dude, I’m right--”


Alejandra closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out through her nose.

Squeaks could be heard around the court from their sneakers on the gym floor. “You can’t make a three.” She muttered, furrowing her brows and leaning into the computer screen.

“Pass the ball!”

Persistent people were such a headache.

Alejandra glanced up to take a peek and back towards her laptop, typing away onto the keyboard so quickly yet somehow, she was getting nowhere.

“You’re travelllingg.”

A groan caught her attention and Alejandra looked up to see the other team getting away with a steal.

“What the fuck!?” She said, gesturing towards the very casual 3v3. One of them had gotten startled and the rest of the boys froze in their place, all eyes on her and Alex simply just averted her gaze.

Shaking her head and tapping the edges of her fingers onto her thigh.

“... Sorry, sorry. But uh, work on your defense. Yeah?”

Alejandra rubbed at her eyes, closing the laptop with a thud, sliding it into her bag and walking out of the gymnasium.

This shouldn’t be this difficult.

At this point, she was looking for distractions because maybe the truth was she just didn’t feel right submitting this in the festival as a film.

Or… Maybe she was just incredibly nervous that this was her one-- possibly last shot to get into Lit before her senior year. She’d still apply for next year, of course but… this festival was basically everything. You can’t tell talent off of a piece of paper.

Well, yeah. She's a playwright. It's just… there’s so many scripts they read, so many essays, novels. They read one after another. Honestly, if someone told Alex that Lit chooses their students by picking up a file blindfolded, she’d believe them.

She was procrastinating.

Muffled music was playing in the hall, and at first she wasn’t surprised. Everyone wanted to have fun. Classroom hookups, because apparently that was a thing. Impromptu dance parties, basic kindergarten level basketball games.

Everyone was gonna do what they wanted.

She walked past the cafeteria and the music suddenly came to a stop.

Call it procrastination or curiosity, Alex wanted to know what was going on.

The brunette swung the door open only to be met with Simone Gutierrez, a drink in hand, a crop top that wasn’t entirely too revealing, and a cafeteria that was all too empty. “Was I interrupting this…” Alejandra gestured towards her with the faint hint of a smile. “Party for one?”

“Because uh, I can go, y’know. I don’t even think I’m on the list.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
on this episode of: dr phil

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
sunflowers & denim

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the storage building

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
n/a

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Lin

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ohdittoh

Charlie hadn’t genuinely expected to find much of anything in the storage building, seeing as most of the cool stuff was stored in the school or in other locations for safekeeping. So Charlie wasn’t exactly surprised when all the storage building really held were some dusty old props, racks of costumes that hadn’t been worn in years, and boxes filled with old papers and relics of the ancient times of 2006.

By the time Charlie had reached the back of the room, the only thing of use that she had found was a pair of rather stupid looking cowboy hats that had fallen off a rack of similarly stupid looking cowboy outfits. At least the costumers for whatever production needed clothing from the wild, wild west were thematically consistent. Still, it was sort of disappointing that there wasn’t anything of interest.

“You’ll never fucking believe it, Charles.” Lin’s voice called out from somewhere behind piles of boxes, flashlight blinking from between the cracks in the cardboard. “C’mere, c’mere!”

Flicking off her flashlight, Charlie turned sideways and wiggled her way through a crevice in the walls of boxes and props. Stumbling carefully out the other side, Charlie took a second to dust off her dress before looking at what Lin had found. As soon as her eyes fell upon the glory before her, Charlie’s mouth dramatically dropped as she straightened herself back up.

“Holy. Shit.” She blurted out, shining her flashlight at the massive object in front of her. Metal? Check. Round? Check. Has a handle? Check. Could be an attraction at Disney World? Check.“Dude, it’s the teacups!”

Not bothering to wait for Lin, Charlie chucked her backpack and flashlight inside the teacup and launched herself over, landing rather ungracefully inside with a loud thump. Her fingers trailed over the center wheel, giving it a quick spin as her laugh echoed off the concrete wall behind the ride piece.

“Look at these! Look at ‘em!” Lin cheered from behind Charlie. “Who coulda fucking guessed that they’d store this shit in here, of all places, luhmao?”

“Guess the school has another use for them? Or maybe the carnies were short on cash and just left ‘em.” Charlie wondered aloud as she pulled off her jacket and tossed it onto the bench of the cup. “Kinda ironic that we stumbled upon them though. Seems like the Fall Fair was forever ago when it’s only been a few weeks.”

Charlie beckoned for Lin to join her in the cup, plopping down beside him on the cold metal seat beside him. She carefully laid back, using her jacket as a sort of pillow while her legs draped over Lin’s lap.

“Time flies, dude, it really does.” Charlie sighed softly, closing her eyes as she gently tilted her chin towards the ceiling. “Well, it sorta does but it also sorta doesn’t. I keep forgetting some of the stuff that’s happened so far this year because so much has been going on. It’s kinda dumb but I keep forgetting that we’re dating now.” She paused, shaking her head slightly as she gently laughed. “Feels weird sayin’ that. It’s not weird being with you or anything, because it really doesn’t feel like much has changed which is perfect in my books, but actually having a name for it. Makes me feel all soft and squishy, ya know?”

Charlie grunted slightly as she sat back up, legs still strung over Lin’s. She took the moment to enjoy the silence, propping her head up with her hand as she took in Lin’s features. There was something so comforting in how familiar he was even though their dynamic had undergone so many changes in the prior few weeks.

“Gosh, you’re cute.” She blurted out randomly. Normally, she would’ve shut herself up or taken it back or deployed whatever other stupid avoidance mechanism she had up her sleeve. “I forget I’m allowed to say that now without it being super weird. I sorta forget a lot about us, actually. Not in a bad way because we’re great, like we’re top tier here, but since nothing has really changed it just feels the same as before but… better, I guess? Like Broship 2.0. I'm really happy though, I like where we are. This makes me really happy. You make me really happy.”

Once again, Charlie fell silent. This time, however, instead of admiring the person next to her, she had begun thinking about their relationship. In a world of publicity and expectations, it was hard not to compare them to their peers.

“You don’t think we’re, uh, not coupley enough, do you?” Charlie asked honestly, her own openness surprising herself. “It’s just that we’ve been dating for a little bit and it doesn’t feel like much has changed, which is fine for me because I absolutely hate when you go to date someone and suddenly everything’s different. What I mean is this is technically the first… I dunno, first real relationship you’ve been in? I don’t want to fuck that up for you and make you think that I’m not really interested in being your girlfriend because trust me, I very much am. And I know that I haven’t exactly been the best girlfriend since this whole thing began because life fucking sucks but I want to change that. I want to make this work.”

Charlie pulled her legs off from Lin’s and crossed them underneath her. Placing her hands on each of Lin’s shoulders, she turned him so that they were facing. Lacing her fingers together, Charlie leaned forwards and rested her chin on the backs of her fingers.

“So tell me,” Charlie began, smiling warmly at Lin. “Honestly, what do you think of all this? Of me, of us? I can’t read your mind, though I wish I could because that would really make life a whole lot easier, so tell me. How am I doing? What do you think? What do you want? I want to make you happy, Lin, because you deserve all the joy in the world and then some.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Simone Gutierrez

Simone didn’t know who or what she expected. When she paused her music, she heard the echoes of many students passing by, their cheers almost making her smile in the way that they were living it up. Simone probably should’ve joined them and she knew she would, but there wasn’t any rush, right? Besides, she wanted to have some fun with her lonesome before she caused some hell for those idiots out there.

As she walked out into the “dining” area of the cafeteria, she couldn’t say she was disappointed by who she saw. Out of everyone who could have stumbled upon her location, she could have been met with Dalton or some new kid who was lost.

Or hell, maybe that pompous ass Javi Cervantes.

Not that she would be against it. He was hot in the fuckboy kind of way. If he played his cards right, who knew! She may let him have her.

But thankfully, the one person she wanted to have alone...not in that way -- at least not yet -- found her. It was like Cupid’s ratchet cousin directed Alex in her direction.

Simone was never a believer in fate, but damn, she couldn’t help herself. She just had to give Alex a head-to-toe once over. Even in a shirt and jeans and she still caught her attention.

“Party of one?”

Simone smirked, walking closer to Alex. “Now it’s a party of two!” She gestured for Alex to come to her.

“Because, uh I can go, y’know.

“Go?” Simone sounded almost offended that Alex would even consider that she wanted her gone. “Chika, if you don’t close the door and come with me, I might just have to pick you up.” Simone had that almost-flirtatious look she typically gave when she toed the line of casual chit-chat and suspicious intent that always rested behind her smirks.

“I’m not even on the list--”

“The hell you aren’t!” Simone walked past Alex, who was still very close to the door. She closed it and leaned against it as she locked it. They wouldn’t want anyone to disturb their quality time together, now would they? “Trust me, Alex, you’re very much on the list.”

Almost instinctively, Simone grabbed Alex’s hand, almost jerking the girl’s arm as she guided her with assertion to the kitchen and there was, well first it was kind of a mess. Simone wasn’t known for her tidiness, but it was also evident what she made.

“I made The Simone Special: crushed up ice and alcohol!” There came a laugh and she grabbed two cups from the sink. They were somewhat clean. “You gotta be thirsty, right?”

Nah, Simone, that’s you, homegirl.

Yeah, Simone knew that, and maybe she sampled some of her own creation, but she was here to have some fun, wasn’t she?

“Anyway, what’s up, Alex?”

mood
Thirsty (2 ways)

location
Hollywood Arts Cafeteria (Kitchen)

outfit
*hot sizzle noises*

playing...
Royal

by Dounia​

mentions
Dalton, Javi

interactions
Alex

tags
Soap

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

Auguste's question was a fair enough one -- by all accounts, Zeph shouldn't've been in the music department of the school. This wasn't his department and although he'd done a handful of covers and could sing, Zeph wasn't a fan of it. He hated the stillness of singing -- and he liked being able to express music through other means, aka the whole dancing thing. Not that he didn't respect musicians and singers, of course.

Without them, he'd have no canvas for his own art.

But before Zeph could answer his question, Auguste asked the one that was probably more pertinent.

“Wait no that doesn’t matter. Why are you covered in paint.”

For a moment, Zeph just blinked at him because, well, he'd almost forgotten about the paint that coated his body in this moment, but also because he wasn't sure how to answer that simple question. His eyebrows drew together, his eyes squinting, his lips screwing up into a little frown as he tried to think of how to word it. Like, should he just be totally honest? Would being totally honest be okay? Or would Auguste turn him in or something when they set out for the Lit Room Art Bandits?

Zeph really, really, really didn't want to incur Chas' wrath, and he was absolutely at a chance of incurring said wrath if he were to ever find out that Zeph had something to do with it.

Granted, his own participation would probably be overshadowed by Charlie and Lin, especially since Chas clearly hated the two of them more, but you know... yeah, he was still scared of the little, angry senior.

But it was Auguste, and surely... surely he wouldn't say anything.

The guy didn't really say much, anyway.

"I uhh... I was hanging out with Lin," he explained, his face relaxing as he let out a little chuckle, and he started into the room. Zeph started to make a move to sit down in a chair, but given his paint-streaked attire... he quickly decided against it and instead, elected to stay standing.

"Well, Lin and his girlfriend, Charlie. It was fun," Zeph continued with a little nod of his head. "Yeah, we uhh... well she was like... she was like 'look at all this cool stuff I brought' and she had like... like silly string, and paint, and we uhh..." he shrugged, chuckling, as his hand moved to rub at the back of his neck. There was still that weird little smile on his face as he tried to explain it without the entire thing just sounding... well...

Childish as heck.

"We ummm... yeah, we kind of fought, and the uhh... well, the lit room looks... rough... but they have cleaning crews that'll come before Monday, so the lit students'll never know." He quickly clarified the last part, more as a way to clear his own guilty conscience than anything else.

Plus, well, he was starting to become used to people giving him puzzled looks and stating that what he was doing with Lin wasn't like him. It was as if people didn't change, and maybe that's all that was happening -- Zeph was changing. He was growing away from that overly careful, scared little boy that had wasted his years being something he wasn't, and instead he was... he was actually having fun.

"I'd say I won, but I uhh... I totally lost." He said with another little chuckle. He still felt uncomfortable just standing there, so he started to walk around the music room, his eyes scanning over everything before he glanced back over at his friend, a curious look on his face.

"What're you in here for?" He asked. "We're dancers, not you know... musicians." Zeph snorted at the very idea because, well, again, eww to the whole music thing. He turned on his heel to face Auguste, his hands lazily moving to slide partway into his pockets, his thumbs resting comfortably on the outside of his pockets.

"I didn't even know you did music. Do you play anything? I kinda play guitar, though I'm not really... I dunno, don't really care too much about playing it, so can't say I'm the best." He explained with a little shrug. Of course, playing guitar had always felt a little like... riding a bike or something. Even if he'd forgotten how to play, or thought he had, he'd pick it up, start picking at a couple strings, and then it would be like he'd never stopped playing.

He just hated how sore it made his fingers.

He seemed to forget the whole covered in paint fiasco and as such, Zeph leaned back against one of the walls. One leg moved to rest in front of the other and he smiled at Auguste, waiting for answers.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
Lost Boys

by Ocean Park Standoff​

mentions
Avery

interactions
Lin, Charlie, Auguste

tags
ohdittoh geminiy qunqun

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Very frustated
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Nellie-ish

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  somewhere with a breeze.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Cappie, Mikaela 0k_mang0 Xed
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Chanel Clairmont

Visuals ~ 17 ~ Actress

What was even going on at this point?

Tortellini?

Chapstick?

Relationship names, what?

Oh, honey. Nononononono.

Mikaela was already doing the worst that she could be doing. Not only embarrassing her, Mikaela was making it seem like Chanel actually wanted Cappie in that way. God, she hated the name 'Cappie' Even in her internal monologues it sounded idiotic. If Chanel was interested in anything, it'd be his actual name so she wouldn't have to feel like a child talking to a hat as their imaginary friend. She rose an eyebrow as she watched Mikaela completely invade Cappie's personal space.

Oh, don't.

She knew what she was thinking.

'Nellie's probably jealous.'

Chanel doesn't get jealous.

Jealousy is overrated, and there wouldn't even be a reason to be jealous of a man she just met!

As her childhood friend fell into yet another fit of giggles, Chanel found it a little hard to sit here and continue to stand here-- because clearly, Nellie wasn't amused. "Okay, Mik. Come on." The four walked towards the door and suddenly Mikaela went into a full sprint, before she knew it, the door slammed shut and Cappie was pushed harshly in her direction.

Chanel on instinct placed two hands on both sides of his shoulders to steady him, which left them to little to no personal space left themselves as they were face to face.

She froze for a moment, and the sound of muffled laughter behind the door had taken her out of 'frozen' state, rolling her eyes and moving past Cappie to the door. Chanel twisted the knob as if that'd actually do something before raising her fist to knock harshly.

"Mikaela! Open the damn door."

Footsteps in the distance was heard running away and she could've swore her cheeks were hot from plain frustration.

"How did she even-- she pickpocketed you!? You didn't feel her--" A loud groan escaped her, shaking her head.

Chanel reached for her phone only to realize it had... zero percent.

Great.

Of course it did.

Just another thing to completely obliterate tonight. Was there supposed to be another next year? If so, Chanel is not attending. No matter how many cries, whines, or deaths there will be. There will not be another blonde at the world's most unnecessary event. She rubbed the temples of her head. "I highly doubt Sherlock and Watson got locked out of a high school by a sixteen year old girl." She said, her gaze roaming around for another entrance that could be miraculously unlocked.

"My phone is dead, so..."

An eyebrow raise and a gesture towards him was meant to say; 'Do you have a phone, a plan, patience?'

Because she was out of all three.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Stardust Galaxy]

Maeve listened to Felix words, all of them were comforting in his own way, it was almost as he had the perfect words of encouragement that she needed at that moment, and even she got to chuckle at his comment on how he felt like an ancient the times he hung out with the sophomores, even if she exactly didn't feel like a grandma, but he was right, they had their own inside jokes and stories that Maeve wasn't part of or couldn't understand completely, and just like an outsider was how she felt, but she was hoping that feeling would eventually go away, it was just a matter of time, that's what she hoped.

But his words on how everything that she was going through like some kind of punishment really hit home, to be honest, she really felt that it was just karma coming at her for not thinking about her actions properly and the worse was that while Felix was trying to comfort her saying she couldn't control getting injured, she could at least could have at least prevented and not having to end on an operating room.

A warm feeling inside her heart made her feel better as Felix reassured her that she was a lovely person and that people were missing out just because she was repeating a year. But maybe he was right, friendships couldn't last forever and even less in a place where everyone was on the low competing with everyone just to achieve success in their own field, maybe it was selfish or it was the wisest thing to do and maybe Maeve hasn't figured out that yet and just needed to accept that life wasn't as easy and happy as she used to think "You are also an amazing person Felix, I really mean it. I'm glad to have you as a friend"

Maybe Felix was right, maybe she should pretending to be happy all the time, to accept that it was fine to show her weakness and to have someone to rely on, just because you were the one that was the person who was there for everyone it couldn't mean that you could have someone that was there for you in your sad moments, maybe if she wasn't so harsh on herself on showing this happy side just to not be a nuisance to other was not the best option, she was sure that if she learned to be proud of her weaknesses and see them as an opportunity to grow rather than just a well-kept secret, things could be different and she wouldn't be struggling so much with her confidence as she was right now, while at the same time she was trying to show that she was just fine and was the same Maeve from the past year, but in reality, everyone changed just a little bit everyday and she needed to accept those changes and embrace them.

To be honest, Maeve was really curious to know what Felix was going to do for the Arts Festival, it was pretty obvious it was something related to acting but acting could go in any direction that she didn't have a clue of what he set his mind for the festival when mentioned the name of his friend Maeve for sure couldn't point out someone with that name, she wasn't really up to date with the new students "That name for sure doesn't ring a bell, but since you talk so highly of him and his talent, he must really be good at it. And since you two are paired together I'm sure it's going to be great, so I'll be looking forward to it" she said cheerfully.

Maeve felt a little bit embarrassed at Felix's comparison between acting and dancing "I think you are exaggerating on my dancing skills, but acting is also so demanding, being able to learn a script and develop different feelings so easily I could never do it. My memory can barely handle the things we see in the class, I would have messed up so many times that they would have told me to just give up and I would have just said you are right" she said with a small chuckle.

Maeve for sure wasn't expecting the sudden statement about this Slater guy and how he talked about his jobs just by the chance of him sleeping with someone, was the gym starting to feel hot or it was just her embarrassment "That Slater guy, really seems like an interesting guy for sure, I might not be an expert on animation, basically, all my knowledge and appreciation for it are coming from all the animated movies that I binged watch while I was stuck on my bed, but I think being an animator is really cool, or it seems something where you need so much creativity if I'm pretty sure I would have sucked at acting, I don't want to imagine the horror it would have been tried something like an animation when I can't even draw to save my life" She said with a shrug.
"Wow, if he really does animate the whole thing, there are two options he is either a genius or he is an idiot, but in a good way, I'm not trying to offend anyone here" she said as she grabbed the flask and took another sip from it, she let out a laugh at his comment about how could she expose his the movie to the press "The only press I could access is the one of my middle school, and I really doubt they would be too eager to publish it on the school newspaper" she said with a chuckle, she got curious about the movie after he started explaining his role and his co-stars "You know, just because I was gone and I'm from Mississippi doesn't mean I live under a rock, of course I know Chanel Clairmont, she is the daughter of Freya Clairmont, and I only know this because my cousin is like the biggest fan of hers, I can close my eyes and hear all her repertoire because she would always play it on the car" she said with a shiver.

"Listen, I'll never say no to going to the movies so if you can I'll love to go, but don't feel obligated if you can't" she said with a smile, Maeve was kind of glad at the sudden change of topics to something more lightly "Well, I think my favorite thing about being back in the environment, I mean in my freshman year I felt terrified because everything was so fast and everyone was running to make it from a place to another, but I guess I got used to all the liveliness of the place that when I was back home everything felt so slow and uneventful" She replied

"If you really pull out another flask, full of this I'll have to be worried about you because you might seriously have a problem for sure" she added with a chuckle.

Location: gym | Mood: enjoying the conversation
Outift: Here | Interactions: Felix ( ohdittoh )

Maeve Anneliese Ackerman

Code by Stardust Galaxy​

 

[qunqun]

MOOD:
Perpetually nervous

OUTFIT:
Dark blue long sleeve Henley t-shirt and brown cargo pants

LOCATION:
Music room

basics

MENTIONS:
Lin, Charlie, Chas, Hunter



INT:
Zeph @Winona

tags

TL;DR:
Nope

tl;dr

Auguste

Auguste seemed to be settling well into the conversation. The careful ebb and flow of giving away enough information to satisfy any questions, but not enough to actually be telling enough about his own life. At least, Zeph seemed to take the bait of his two questions. He could do this.

The silence of Zeph trying to formulate a response stretched out into an infinity. What did he do wrong. Was it too prying? Did he just make Zeph snap? Was Zeph about to pull out a chainsaw and was he going to be Zeph’s first victim? Okay, a slight exaggeration on his part, but for a brief moment, he did consider that maybe Zeph would just walk right out of the room again.

In short, he was completely oblivious to the panic that his own questions had caused Zeph, and instead, Zeph’s panicking only incurred Auguste’s own anxieties. He began to curl in on himself once more, something subtly in his arms.

And then Zeph opened his mouth finally and started saying the all important WHY.

Hanging out with Lin. Oh. Auguste really didn’t need any more than “I was hanging out with Lin.” From what he’d seen on Twitter, he could fill it in from there. Lin + Paint = Disaster, and he wrapped Zeph up in it. Got it. Done. No need to continue.

But Zeph did continue, Auguste shuffled back a little bit as Zeph started to sit, he didn’t really feel like getting paint on his clothes - no offense Zeph. Okay, the more Zeph spoke, the more distracted he could probably get from why Auguste was in the music room to begin with. This was good.

Lin AND Charlie. Oh. Okay, pieces floated together. Yeah. Charlie, Lin… And paint. Auguste nodded in complete understanding. They seemed like the type to douse each other in paint getting sidetracked while trashing a classroom. Though, he didn’t really expect Zeph to be the type to go for that kind of thing. Huh. Learn something new every day. If anything, this made him feel a lot more comfortable around Zeph because he DID have a side of him that was a little shit. What a reb- wait the Lit room?

“Isn’t that one Chas guy in Lit?” Auguste’s eyebrows drew together as he tried to remember. Surely Zeph had done worse things, if he hung out with Charlie and Lin. They seemed like the type to get up to some crazy shit, the rumors about the orgies and the ferris wheel fucking being anything to go by.

Auguste’s eyes followed him as he paced back and forth. Nervous. It was making him nervous. The hand wringing began again.

“What’re you in here for” Oh God, it hadn’t deterred him in the slightest. Auguste was being questioned again. He should’ve kept asking about the Lin thing. Faked shock maybe that goody-two-shoes Zeph would EVER do something like sling paint at his friends as a joke. Or like… use some silly string to trash a classroom and mildly inconvenience a custodian. Complete and total regret filled him, though he remained silent…

“Not musicians” The executor has raised his axe. This was it. He was going to die. He had… two friends in this entire school, and one of them was going to leave him. Or like… laugh his ass off at Auguste. He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He wanted to get out please. His eyes flickered over to the door as he began calculating how quickly it’d take him to get out of the room. Out of the conversation. Never talk to anyone ever agai- AND LIN AND CHARLIE WAS HIS FRIENDS. The two that he had watched tear that Hunter guy to pieces. If he did anything wrong here then Zeph might complain to them and he might be on their hit list too. The room was spinning-

Wait, he's still talking.

“I kinda play guitar, though I’m not really… I dunno, don’t really care too much about playing it, so I can’t say I’m the best.”

Oh. He plays. Okay. Right. This was Zeph. Nice friendly Zeph. Zeph who was… generally not an asshole. Zeph who was apparently nervous about… trashing one classroom. The panic abated somewhat, enough for him to formulate a coherent response at the very least.

“I used to play a bit of ukulele… I like picking up new skills every now and then.” He didn’t LIE necessarily. He did used to play ukulele. When he was a kid and he had access to one. And he did pick up new skills here and there, he liked having different pet hobbies to fill the empty void of his social life. That didn’t sound like enough. It didn’t answer the why. It didn’t- there were going to be more questions. And… Zeph HAD been honest with him…

“I compose songs.. In my-in my free time.” He got the intense feeling that he was digging his own grave.. Deeper. And deeper. But he couldn’t stop talking now. “I… do a bit of… eh.. A bit of singing… alongside the guitar… and… eh… a bit of piano… a bit of bass guitar..." Auguste's voice began shrinking as he continued on, quieter, and quieter. If it wasn't for the absolute silence of the classroom, it would've disappeared completely. And even then, Auguste felt the silence, heavy, tense. He didn't like it. He just wanted the axe to swing down, slice his head off. Kill his barely-alive social life.

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

Things were looking up, if you were to ask her. Like tonight had seemed to be a write-off -- a perfect example of how Ash fucked up everything that she touched, except that now, she was actually genuinely happy. Calmed down. All of that good stuff, until she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. At first, she didn't answer it, because she was still focused on Trevor, or well... the vodka bottle that he was clearly keeping to himself.

“But you’re…sorry? For actin’ like…what? For…cryin’ and gettin’ drunk in the floor of a random classroom?”

Well... yeah. That wasn't... normal. That was something that she knew was supposed to be embarrassing, and it was, and she knew that in some aspect, she'd overreacted to the entire situation. Ash had just... taken something out of nothing, and she'd had no right to react in the way that she did. Who couldn't handle a little self-criticism, after all? Because that's all it had been -- a little self-criticism, and she'd...

She'd apologize to Cal again, and she'd apologize to Nickie, and she'd tried to makeup for what she'd said and what she'd done tonight and... that... yeah. That was the plan, anyway. The goal.

She glanced from the glass bottle back to his face when he started to speak, a gentle little smile planted on her face. Her hand was still outstretched, impatiently waiting for the bottle to be handed back to her.

Did she need more? Absolutely not.

Was that going to stop her? Absolutely not.

“Hardly,” Trevor said in response to her question. “On a scale? Er…barely.”

Good for him. That was, like, great -- because the last thing that the two of them really needed was a repeat of Halloween night, except times it by like... ten or something, because Ash was pretty sure she was a lot drunker than she had been that night. And she couldn't very well keep Trevor from slamming his head into walls if she could barely stand.

“Not drunk enough to want to share,” he added.

Dick.

She pressed her lips tightly together, her jaw clenching as she started to lower her hand to the floor. Her fingers curled in and started to press against the torn skin as he brought the bottle back to his lips.

Fucking prick.

That was her vodka. She didn't have to share.

But then, he held it out to her. “Why? You testin’ my alcohol tolerance? I’m a bred an’ born Irishman, darlin’,” he teased lightly.

A little wave of relief washed over Ash, her jaw unclenching and her lips relaxing into a gentle smile as she took the bottle from her, her fingers closing around the cool glass bottle as she brought it back to her lap. The bottle rested on her thigh for a moment as she settled back against the wall.

She glanced over at Trevor before she started to reply. "No way, really?" she teased back, her tone sarcastic as she looked away from him to again look at the bottle resting on her thigh.

Ash lifted it up, swirling the vodka around inside to see how much was left -- just enough to get more fucked up than she already was -- and she brought it back to her lips to take a small sip. She brought it back down, coughing as the liquid burned its way down her throat.

Her phone vibrated again, and she seemed to remember that someone had messaged her.

Right.

She slid her phone from her pocket and squinted down at the screen. Her eyebrows drew together for a moment as she read over the message from Hunter.

So were you ever going to tell me?

Huh?

In her current state, she couldn't quite figure out what Hunter was talking about -- and her responding message let him know just that.

tell you what

"I ummm... one... one sec... ond," she mumbled absently to Trevor as she drew her legs up once again towards her chest and moved the bottle of vodka to the space between herself and him once again. "I uhh... it's, it's Hunter."

A little more back and forth later, Hunter finally said what was on his mind.

Nickie told me about that little talk you two had today.

Oh....

Oh....

Oh.

Yeah, that. That.

Her heart thudded in her chest for a solid moment, threatening to beat straight out, before she felt it falter and fall straight into the pit of her stomach. All the feelings from before? The ones that she'd thought she had under lock and key? The... the... clenching of her lungs, the faulty breathing, the pounding heart, the everything, it all started to trickle back.

She brought the vodka bottle up to her lips and this time, instead of just taking a quick sip, she started swallowing it by the mouthful, ignoring the burning in her throat... the roiling of her stomach... ignoring everything, except the feeling that she knew the vodka would give her after all was said and done.

Eventually, she brought the bottle back down, but she kept it pressed close to her side and refused to let go of it. No, Ash was keeping it close to her now.

With her other hand, she tried to type messages back to Hunter -- to try and like... like... defend herself, but she could barely see through her bleary-eyed gaze and things were going bad, bad, bad. And it was just getting worse, worse, worse, and Hunter wasn't listening, but Ash wasn't making sense, and she could barely read his messages, and she didn't... she didn't... fucking... know... what to... what to fucking do.

Her heart was clenching.

Hunter had moved into public Twitter, and naturally Ash had to go in, too -- to defend herself, but that just... turned... bad, bad, bad. Eli kept telling her to get off, but of course she didn't listen, and then he was messaging her asking if she was alright and where she was, and, and, and--

She brought the vodka back up to her lips, taking another long sip before she dropped it back into her lap, and pulled the cold bottle close to her chest.

Hunter wasn't making sense.

Eli was worried about her, but she convinced him she was alright.

She was pretty sure, anyway, but she wasn't sure.

At some point, Lucky and Lin both messaged her to ask if she was alright, and she--

She wasn't.

But she would be.

Her fingers were shaking by time the Twitter drama was over, her head throbbing with the drama that she had hardly been able to understand or keep up with, and she slipped her phone clumsily back into her pocket.

Her eyes settled on the bottle.

"Hunter umm... hates me," she mumbled, her words quiet as she stared numbly at the bottle.

She felt like she should probably be crying, but there was nothing left in her. She just didn't have the energy to keep on crying, and that was probably for the best, because Ash been told a lot that she was a fucking crybaby, and maybe she was. She... tried... really hard not to cry, but it was just... hard to not sometimes.

God.

Fuck.

More vodka went down her throat.

"Hey, could we... umm..." Her voice cracked. "Like... ummm... like, leave? I... everyone's like... hates me, and I just..."

Don't want to be here anymore.

And yeah, she knew in some aspect that she was being... what was it that everyone always said... dramatic? Yeah, she understood that, but in this moment? After having... so many people tell her the exact same thing, over and over again, after having it practically beaten into her psyche and then glued and held there by the copious amounts of vodka that she'd consumed (although, to be fair, it wasn't anything more than she usually drank), well...

Yeah, like, the last place she wanted to be was here.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
Cough Syrup

by Young The Giant​

mentions
Hunter, Eli

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

Lin crossed his arms triumphantly at Charlie’s “holy shit”, grinning widely as he twisted his wrist at an odd angle to keep his flashlight focused on the object of beauty, glory, goodness, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Yeah, yeah. He was the greatest adventurer, he knew. Pshhhhht, luhmao, it was nothing.

“Mmhm, mmhm, mmhm.” He nodded his head slowly, jerking his jaw up sharply at the end of each “hm”. He felt like a fucking archeologist who found some pirate’s treasure or some shit.

Spelunker Lin? Fuck yeah. He’d kick ass at spelunking, ‘cept he didn’t even need a map.

Yeah, he was that bad, that rad, that fucking sick, and that fucking amazing.

Duh.

He was Lindsay Kay, after all.

“Dude, it’s the teacups!” Charlie exclaimed. She threw her backpack and flashlight inside of the teacup, then chucked herself over, too. Lin cackled at the thump, making his way over to the side of the teacup, too. “Guess the school has another use for them? Or maybe the carnies were short on case and just left ‘em.”

“Luhmao!” Lin laughed, running his hand along the side of the cup. “I’unno, maybe they were like ‘you know what would really spruce up this musty ass storage building that might as well be abandoned?’ or something,” he suggested with a laugh, sitting the still-shining flashlight down on the floor pointing towards the ceiling and propping an elbow up on the rim of the teacup.

Either that, or they were gonna make these babies into some rad ass props— like some fucking school go-karts or something.

That would be fucking bomb, actually, no matter how far-fetched it was. The school was loaded, luhmao— they could do it.

Yeah, chop-fucking-chop, school people! Time was a-wasting before Lin decided to charge for his genius, luhmao.

“Kinda ironic that we stumbled upon them though,” Charlie commented. “Seems like the Fall Fair was forever ago when it’s only been a few weeks.”

“That IIIII stumbled upon them, ess-em-aych,” Lin corrected kiddingly, putting a hand on his chest and wiggling his chin as high as it could go in mock arrogance. He sniffed indignantly, and then he let his posture dissolve with a round of loud laughter. “It really fucking is a big coincidence, isn’t it?” he said, dropping his arm and letting his dangle over the teacup. He sighed softly, grinning again. “There’s no way it’s been weeks already,” he said softly.

The fair felt like forever again, but also like not even a few seconds ago.

Really, Lin remembered way too much of that night. It was seared into his memory, just the way that everything happened.

His grin softened into a warm smile.

Fuck, he was really sentimental tonight, luhmao.

Charlie beckoned for Lin to join her, and his smile spread into a grin again. “Watch it,” he warned, gripping the side of the cup and wiggling. All at once, he threw both legs over. His butt rattled the teacup cart, and he laughed loudly, clapping his hands on his knees.

She came over and plopped down beside him on the metal seat, then laid back, propping her jacket up beneath her head and laying her legs across his lap.

I’m an ottolin, he thought with a snicker, luhmao.

“Time flies, dude, it really does,” Charlie sighed. In the low light, Lin saw her close her eyes, and he looked up at the ceiling, leaning his head all the way back so that he could rest it against the rim of the oversized teacup. “Well, it sorta does but it also sorta doesn’t. I keep forgetting some of the stuff that’s happened so far this year because so much has been going on. It’s kinda dumb but I keep forgetting we’re dating now.”

Lin glanced down at her, studying her face. In the low light, it somehow looked both sharper and softer. Various small grey shadows cut her features at gentle angles, and her round cheeks seemed nearly to glow in the white light.

Damn. She.

Was.

Gorgeous.

Shit.

He felt himself blush, and he couldn’t help but snicker.

Linny boy has a crush, he teased himself, and then he reminded himself: oh wait, that’s my girlfriend.

He did the same thing as Charlie, too— forgot that they were dating, you know.

She shook her head slightly, gently laughing, and she continued what she was saying. “Feels weird sayin’ that. It’s not weird being with you or anything, because it really doesn’t feel like much has changed which is perfect in my books, but actually having a name for it. Makes me feel all soft and squishy, ya know?”

Lin looked back up towards the ceiling, smiling softly. “Yeah, I do know,” he said. “Like, I’m Lin and you’re Charlie, and we’re Team Howellin, and that’s all it feels like we are, but somehow, we’ve gone and added the, uhhhhhh, you know…girlfriend and boyfriend thing, luhmao. But it’s like…nothing’s different. Like, it’s just less boundaries, less things I gotta worry about saying and admitting. I can say you’re pretty and that I like you and that I think we’re the fucking greatest together and no one’s gonna bat an eye or anything.”

He laughed quietly. “But…I mean, it’s super easy to forget.” He lifted his head, looking down at her. “That we’re dating. ‘cuz it’s like, what the fuck’s changed? We had feelies for each other before—“ He cut himself off, blinking.

He hadn’t really thought of that before.

He spoke a bit more slowly and thoughtfully as he continued, his brows knitting tightly and his lips pursing between words. “We had feelies for each other before. I mean, I called you hot before, too. And, like…I’unno. It’s basically like nothing’s changed. So I forget, too.” His brows untightened, and his lips grew more relaxed, but his voice maintained the same thoughtful quality. “Kinda weird. ‘cuz…I mean, we make sense, luhmao.” He cracked a small smile. “And now that I think about it, I thought we were rivals when we were friends, and I thought we were friends when we wanted to be more, so it’s…psht, I’ve never been good at slapping labels on things, anyway, luhmao.”

He laughed quietly, and he put a hand up to his cheek. “Fuck, I’m blushing. Quit doing that to me,” he teased, grinning down at his girlfriend.

Girlfriend.

Ho-lee shit.

Luhmao.

Wack.

Charlie grunted softly as she sat back up, and Lin curiously watched her move. She propped her hand up with her hand and just…stared at him for a moment.

He felt his cheeks redden more, and his eyes darted away.

Uh.

Uh.

Uh.

Uh.

He swallowed, smiling and looking everywhere but her face.

Uh.

Uh.

“Gosh, you’re cute,” she blurted, and he looked at her, his eyes slightly widening as his heart caught in his throat.

A laugh bubbled out of him. “No, you,” he said, smiling.

Smooth as hell, luhmao.

“I forget I’m allowed to say that now without it being super weird,” she said. “I sorta forget a lot about us, actually.” He cocked his head at her. “Not in a bad way because we’re great, like we’re top tier, but since nothing has changed it just feels the same as before but…better, I guess? Like Broship 2.0. I’m really happy though, I like where we are. This makes me really happy. You make me really happy.”

Lin smiled, studying her face for a moment then laughing happily. “You,” he said.

Wait, he needed more words than that.

“You make me happy, too,” he said. “I like.”

He stopped himself short of choosing another word, because all of them made sense there.

I like you.

I like this.

I like us. Together.

I like who we are.

It fell quiet between them, and Lin just studied her face, taking it in.

Lin didn’t really pay too much attention to the things going on around him. It was kinda a big thing about him— how short his attention span was, how laser-focused he got on any task at hand that he forgot everything else going on around him. He never slowed down, never really took time to “stop and smell the roses”— or even notice that there were roses there.

But now, he was looking right at one of the roses, just drinking in the sight of her, trying to every small detail about her.

It was all so fucking pretty.

“You don’t think we’re, uh, not coupley enough do you?” Charlie asked.

“Huh?” he said, pulling himself from his admiration to listen to her.

“It’s just that we’ve been dating for a little bit and it doesn’t feel like much has changed, which is fine for me because I absolutely hate when you go to date someone and suddenly everything’s different,” she said. “What I mean is this is technically the first…I dunno, first real relationship you’ve been in? I don’t want to fuck that up for you and make you think I’m not really interested in being your girlfriend because trust me, I very much am. And I know that I haven’t exactly been the best girlfriend since this whole thing began because life fucking sucks but I want to change that. I want to make this work.”

Lin said nothing after she finished, just kinda watched her pull her legs from him and cross them underneath her. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face her, and he let her.

Everything that she’d said was still kinda registering, you know.

She laced their fingers together, then leaned forward and rested her chin on the backs of her fingers.

“So tell me,” she said, smiling. “Honestly, what do you think of all this? Of me, of us? I can’t read your mind, though I wish I could because that would really make life a whole lot easier, so tell me. How am I doing? What do you think? What do you want? I want to make you happy, Lin, because you deserve all the join the world and then some.”

He stared at her for a long moment, just blinking, caught up in the questions and her smiling and the…everything about this whole situation.

Well, fuck, what did he think?

He cracked a grin at his absence of thought, his face heating up again. “Luhmao, hold up, gotta get Karl to start working,” he kidded. “Please hold.”

He looked at the wheel of the teacup, his grin fading.

What did he think?

Huh.

“I I think I like this,” he said finally. A small smile spread across his lips. “I think…I think everything is…fucking perfect.” He squinted at the wheel. “I…unno.” He laughed quietly. “I dunno, I mean…”

He quieted a long moment.

Welp.

What did he mean?

That wasn’t really an answer, but he couldn’t really get his words together, luhmao.

There were too many that he didn’t know which ones to pick.

“I like this,” he repeated, and he looked at Charlie, smiling softly. “Us, like this, I mean, luhmao. Nothing’s different than how it always was, y’know? And I like that. We don’t have to try, we don’t have to force anything or really put any effort in. It just…kinda…happens. It’s like, at the fair, when we started out, and you were all super shy about it. It was easy. Like, just going from that, to you being shy about going on a date with me— I guess now it was ‘cuz you knew you were gonna lose the bet—“ He let out a laugh at the tease, and then continued. “To me and you beating each other’s asses at every game in the damn park, like nothing. Smooth as butter going between them. There was no— no change. There was no effort. And that’s what I like about it.”

In his past experiences— or experience, or however the fuck you wanted to put it— it hadn’t been so easy. Even if they didn’t label it, it was...the barriers were there.

Not here. There was nothing holding them back. There was no trying that he had to do, and it was...comfortable.

Lin didn’t have to change.

He looked down at their hands. “And what do I think of you?” he asked, and then he laughed softly. “That’s what you asked, luhmao, guess I shouldn’t be asking you that, uhhh…”

He didn’t know how to word that either.

Lin could write Linricks out the fucking wazoo, but…luhmao, looked like this was a bit harder.

He lifted his eyes from their hands to look into her eyes, and for a moment, he just stared at her.

“You’re so fucking baller.”

And then he blinked.

“Whoops.”

And then he laughed, because those were not the words he was looking for.

He grinned at her. “Baller’s one way to put it, eye-gee, luhmao,” he chuckled. “I…”

He trailed off as he stared at her, his grin fading slightly and then pressing into a small smile. “I just don’t really have the words to…put. Them…into? Words. Can’t. Think. Blegh.” He laughed. “I. You.” He felt his face heating up, and he blew a raspberry, trying to make himself talk.

He drew in a deep breath, looking down at their hands again, and he gave her hand a squeeze. “You know…I…dunno how to put it. You’re…Charlie. When you talk, everyone listens, and they don’t, you make them, one way or another. When you don’t talk…” He cracked a grin. “Well, something’s wrong, usually,” he laughed. “But…” His expression softened again. “When you don’t talk, everyone misses you talking. Or— well, I do. I like how you sound. Like— your voice. It’s, uh. It’s good.”

He felt his ears heating up as he spoke, and his throat was getting dryer.

“And— no matter what, when I’m around you, I feel more— more me,” he said. “I feel like— you’re…I dunno.” He smiled.

He always got fucking flustered, luhmao.

“You’re so smart without trying,” he said, finally pulling words from himself. “You’re so funny and fun and— and, like, fuckin’...radiant and clever and natural and genuine and— and witty and— and every second I’m around you I wanna be closer and every second I’m not around you I want to be. You’re— you’re honest and loyal and you kick ass at anything you do—“ He wiggled his eyebrows. “’cept when you challenge me, of course,” he teased, laughing softly, and then he continued, his brows knitting as he tried to get just the right words. “And you give everything your all and you— you get discouraged a lot, but…when you keep going, damn you keep going.” He smiled brightly. “A thousand fucking times over, y’know? A thousand fucking times harder than before. And you do it a thousand fucking times better than anyone else could.”

He looked up at her. “And— and you just…care. A lot, ya know? About, like— like everyone. And that makes me wanna do that, you know.”

He stopped talking, peering into her eyes for a long moment, his gaze clouded with how the fuck do I say this?

‘cuz...y’know...how the fuck was he supposed to say this, luhmao?

“And…sometimes, I catch myself watching you,” he started. “I…heh, I’ll just stop and stare. Like today. After we paint fought.” He grinned. “After I kicked your asses,” he kidded, laughing. His face went focused again. “I just, uh— I was just standing, and I was watching you, and all I could think was, fuck, she’s amazing, and...fuck, I’m lucky.”

As he finished talking, his smile spread wider. “And I guess that answers what I want,” Lin said. “‘cuz all I really want is to be around you. To be with you, ya know.” He laughed brightly. “That’s cheesy as hell, idn’t it? Hold up, lemme whip out my guitar really quick.”

‘cuz the only more cliche and squishy than “I’m super fucking lucky to have you” was to break out randomly into a song, dedicated to his wuv, luhmao.

He pulled his hands from hers, grinning widely, and he held up an air guitar. Looking into her eyes, he started to strum the imaginary strings, making “bum-byner-nerrrr” noises as the guitar intro started.

He put on an overdramatic smolder, and he drew in a deep breath before he started to sing. “Charlieeeeee,” he crooned, voice warbly in a forced way. “You’re sooooooooooooo pret-teeeeeeeee.” (“Bum-byner-nerrrrr…”) “And your snaaaacks are the fucking beeeeeeest, luhmaooooo!”

He dropped his guitar, dissolving into laughter. “Wait, fuck, that didn’t even rhyme!” he said, putting his hands on his burning cheeks. “Well, shit! I gotta do it over again,” he kidded, lifting his hands to do the guitar again and only getting one “bum—” before he started laughing too hard to go further.

For a solid minute, the giggly, love-giddy boy laughed at his own fucking stupid joke that he knew was stupid but couldn’t stop laughing at, and then he looked over at Charlie, breathless and smiling.

He paused a moment, his chest falling from his final laugh, and then he breathed in a deep breath and out a long, contented smile. “You don’t have to try, Charlie,” he concluded in a sure voice with a sure nod, reaching over and taking her hand, lacing his fingers with hers again.

He moved closer to her, staring down at her, his shoulders parallel to hers, his blue eyes looking down into hers, warm with emotion and feelings and all of the shit that he couldn’t make into words. “As long as you stay you and I stay me, we can conquer the fucking world,” he said in a murmur.

He reached up and put a hand on her cheek. “And, uh…” He started to say something, but he lost his words as he stared at her.

Damn.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grinning and pressing his forehead against hers. “Has anybody ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

He pressed his lips against hers, breathing in her scent.

And, like, not to be cheesy or anything, but...psht, fuck it, Lin could be cheesy, luhmao—

He really didn’t know if he’d ever really felt happier than this moment.

It wasn’t the adrenaline-induced joy he usually felt. Y’know, the “body says I’m boutta die ‘cuz I could pretty much die here but I’m not gonna die but I like the risk” kinda happy that came from stealing shit or jumping off of high places or walking on building ledges or driving across a busy highway with his bike or some dumb shit like that. Nah, that was happiness, for sure, but it wasn’t this kinda happy.

This happy was warm and deep and emanated from his chest, making his heart palpitate so hard that he thought they were gonna have to whip out a fucking defibrillator. His face was hot and his blood was pumping and his brain was short-circuiting because “I’m kissing Charlie luhmao I’m kissing Charlie luhmao I’m kissing the fucking girl of my dreams fuck this feels amazing fuck this feels great fuck ack she’s so—”.

He sat there, kissing her, taking in the moment for probably too long.

And then— ding ding ding.

Luhmao, hold uuup, hold up.

Lin got a brilliant idea.

As always he did, y’know.

He always got the best fucking ideas. Fuck Elon Musk— he was Elin Musk, luhmao.

‘cept technically, this was an idea he’d had before and announced on Twitter, but ehhhhhhh, luhmao.

Still fucking genius.

No pun intended, luhmao.

He moved his hand from her cheek to rest against the wheel of the teacup, squeezing her hand with the one still laced with hers, and then he laughed against her lips.

Pulling back slightly, he sang in a low voice, “Charlie-Char-Char-Charlie, I have an ideaaaa. Heheee.” He elbowed her lightly. He reached over and patted the wheel, then stroked his palm across it, and then his eyes trailed back to her. He grinned salaciously, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows, giggling, and saying half-teasingly, “You know what I'm thinking, Terminator?”

He paused a moment, winking rapidly and dramatically with his mouth open, his grin spreading wider. He prompted, “Teaaaaaacuuuuup...?” He left his mouth open, nodding for her to finish and whispering a few little, encouraging, teasing “c’monc’monc’mon”s.

There was really only one thing that could be.

Winky-winky-woooonk.

mood


location
a storage building

outfit
lookin fly as always

playing...
all i do is win

by dj khaled​

mentions
n/a

interactions
charlie

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: lol

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Ash, Evie
INT:
Winona (Jace)
ohdittoh (Mike)
gh0stwriter (Landon)
geminiy (Gen)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

“You’re not my problem, huh? Well last I checked, I sure as fuck didn’t invite you in here.”

Callum's jaw dropped, and for a moment he refused to believe that the uncharacteristically wordy explanation he gave wasn't enough to appease Gen. It really was a fruitless effort trying to win over someone so unruly. All anybody at this godforsaken school cared about was exacting their pound of flesh, and Callum would be the last person to ever hand out the skin hanging off his bones.

"I didn't invite me here either," he retorted with crossed arms. Awaiting a reply, the spindly boy peered over the model's shoulder at Mike and Landon duking it out. So much for their pretty boy faces. He smirked not out of a desire for violence, but out of pity for the uselessness of it all. While Callum was in no way the type to submit to the will of others, even he had the mind not to waste his breath on a petty sex squabble.

No one was impressed. Just make out already.

And, as Gen turned her back to the pair of whiny twinks, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the sheer amount of consternation one must experience to beat on someone as pathetic as Jace. In a way, her tenacity toward targeting specifically the stuttering musician was commendable. Callum would have given up by the time he went and hid behind his paper-thin meat shield.

Her heavy breathing techniques accompanied by insane giggling had actually managed to get a cheap scare out of him. It sent the hairs on his neck straight up faster than Mike face-to-face with a below 5'8 bimbo and a fresh wall to punch.

Oddly enough—and it might have just been Callum—the striking moment in which his blue, soulless gaze met Gen's collected, viscerally furious eyes gave him more clarity than anything that had happened all night. She was the bad guy, at least to Evie. Callum and Jace were the only two around she could have the gall to beat up on and still relax in her convictions.

He wasn't scared, and as she uttered his name, he sent back a challenging glare. Although it was somewhat doubtful she could see it beyond all the red clouding her vision, the dancer felt content knowing they stood on the same playing field, if only for a moment. Jace could turn away and cower behind as much as he wanted, but Callum had the mind to stare right back in the face of seventeen-year-old Death and see her for who she was.

Even if the odds were stacked against him.

Which, by the way, they really were.

In a moment's time, Gen called his bluff like it was nothing. It wasn't as though Callum had particularly lied, but there was an argument for why pummeling them may have been a pertinent task. Anything to distract from the giant mistake she'd made, right? No amount of vengeance for Ash would restore the shit she was in, and that brought the sunken-eyed boy enough peace to maintain his composure.

He smiled right back at her, silently demeaning her. She was so distraught, despite her pride. Big, bad Gen was going to remember this night for months. There was no pleasure to be derived from her emotional agony. He simply wasn't worried about what was to come.

Sustaining a powerful elbow jab courtesy of Gen, Callum clutched his side and stumbled toward the wall. Although he expected something like that to happen, there was no bracing for impact with a body as frail as his own. "Fuck..." He released a low grunt, his head fixed to the floor.

He only looked up to observe Jace being interrogated, watching his friend with a burning intensity urging him to keep his mouth shut. The blonde knew what was good for him. If there was any time to impress Callum, it would have been right then, right there.

"You don't have to say anything," he advised with newfound fervor, looking back and forth between Jace and Gen with a stern scowl on his face, "She only has as much power as you give—"

“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll be with you in a second.”

"Fuck you."

As Gen pressed further and further, Callum could only watch from the sidelines with an earnest hope for this one thing to go his way. Just the one. He fought mercilessly to seize Jace's eye contact, but the boy dodged his looks left and right. He couldn't keep evading. An answer would have to come, and Callum's petrifying stare hardened even further as the older West began to crack.

Immediately as the relentless model stepped back, another wave of vehement determination flowed through his veins. "Jace," he called out in a firm tone, his advice growing increasingly demanding.

"Cal-- Cal-- Cal--"

"Jace." He straightened his back, beginning to head to his side before stopping in his tracks. Much to his chagrin, the boy continued talking.

"He... h-h-he yelled at... at... at A-Ash, and she... she kind... she kind of r-r-ran off a-a-all... crying, a-a-and Evie saw and... and, and... and said she was gon-gon-gonna get you, and I... I..."

Callum clutched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and released a deep breath. The little wimp buckled under the pressure. Gen wasn't so special. She didn't deserve to have that effect.

"I didn't... I d-d-d-didn't want her, t-t-too, but... w-w-e followed and... and... and..." he finished, tears streaming down his quivering cheeks. Callum wasn't mad, but...

He was disappointed.

"So what?" he spoke up over Jace's choked sobs, his patience at its end, "What happens between Ash and I is our business. Neither of us should take the heat because they chose to drag us over here." He narrowed his eyes, demanding the room's full attention. "I yelled at Ash. I called her on all her bullshit and I'll never regret that. You don't get to humiliate Jace and excuse her because she's your friend."

He shook his head with judgement and faux pity for the girl in front of him, closing the distance between them, resulting in him towering over her. "You have more pressing shit to deal with. I'm not the only one who lost a friend tonight. Was it worth it? All for a quick fuck?" He curled his lip with a condescending grimace. "At least I own up to being a shitty person. The only person you have fooled is yourself."

He grinned once more, his wry, crooked smile inching further up his cheeks. "Yet something tells me you're fully aware of the way you break everything you touch until it withers into nothing. Look at yourself. You cried so hard because you know you can't keep lying to yourself anymore! How funny is that!"

The dark-haired senior began to howl with laughter, a cackle more genuinely entertained than he'd released in God knows how long. He laughed in her face, for only a second feeling sorry for the miserably weak girl.

"You and me, we're the fucking same!" he cried between ear-piercing, boisterous laughs, "Admit it!"

Nothing mattered anymore. It was all out. With nothing to lose, all Callum could feel was a tragic sense of defensive resentment. At least Gen's suffering was a suitable distraction and an even better deflection.

code by valen t.

 

[Soap]

Alejandra Cortez
"It's the job that's never started that takes longest to finish.”

@Realex has set their status to:
Eye on the ball.

@Realex has set their outfit to:
Lock in attire?

@Realex has interacted with:
Simone

@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi,

@Realex has tagged:
natsukashii​

She shouldn't be intruding. Even if a really big part of her wanted to stay, talk a little. She should really get to work on finishing the script. At least then she could get that out of the way so she can hang out with Naomi later-- at least, like they planned. Simone took a few steps closer and Alex took a few more towards the door, shaking her head at her antics.

“Chika, if you don’t close the door and come with me, I might just have to pick you up.”

Alex couldn't help but let out a chuckle at her words, she didn't believe she could do it, being as petite as she was compared to Alex. She couldn't of been taller than 5'1-- 5'2" maybe if she was wearing the right shoes besides heels.

Of course it was a matter of strength, but well, come on.

Before Alejandra could even agree to anything, Simone was leaning against the door and a slight click was heard as Alex's gaze fell to where it had came from.

The lock.

Oh.

“Trust me, Alex, you’re very much on the list.”

Simone's accent made everything that came out of her mouth sound... well, flirty. Her whole demeanor gives off that vibe. Or, maybe Alex just suppresses herself from feeling slightly special that it's possible that they had a certain banter between the two of them that was somehow, in a way, their thing.

She opened her mouth to reply and nothing came out.

It was funny.

People like Chas, Dalton, Evie.

Alex always had that bite. Always something to say, always ready to say it. She was confident. However... when things, or people with the tendency to favor her decide to be... nice. It's like Alex doesn't know how to speak anymore. She hated that. Okay, so it wasn't really funny. But that was just an intro to explain a little of that. The smaller girl had grabbed her by the hand and practically dragged her to the kitchen. There really wasn't any way to get out of all this.

Although it's not like she really wanted to, anyway.

"I-- okay, okay." She said, reassuring her that she wasn't leaving.

Not yet anyway.

Halfway down the cafeteria, Alex didn't let go of her hand, instead using her free one to move her satchel off her shoulder and onto a nearby table. She was a little shocked that this place was empty. There was plenty of things going on tonight and it was almost mind-blowing how nobody thought to sneak into the kitchen. Clearly Simone was smarter than her peers and it wasn't the first time she proved that.

The girl was just...

Alex couldn't even explain Simone.

She was Simone.

Everyone in Plastics had their own group Alex placed them in. Adriane and Gen were on the cautious side of things, Evie, Jared and Maddie? Easy to get along with, Dalton and Mike? Tolerable on some days. And then there was just Simone in her own little corner. Doing that thing. It wasn't a bad thing, it was just... a look.

Upon being dragged into the kitchen, her gaze danced around the slight mess around the place.

Normally, mess is not a thing Alex enjoys.

She was just raised a certain, really strict way. But it was kinda funny, actually funny this time. She snuck into the cafeteria all by her lonesome, blasted some music and decided to make... margaritas? Is that what they were? Alex wasn't a big drinker. That party had been... something she doesn't normally do, despite wanting to get drunk that night-- it isn't a thing she's regular on. Neither are parties, though. Either way, the thought of her little impromptu party had brought a smile onto her face. When offered a drink, Alex hesitated, her gaze flickering to Simone and to the cups she was already grabbing.

She shouldn't...

"Uhhh, sure."

Welp.

Look, it was impolite to reject someone offering you food or water. That was a family thing too. Incase you didn't notice Alex was pretty big on following certain traditions she was brought up on. Even if you didn't eat or drink it.

You accept with a smile and a thank you. Simone filled one of the cups with her grand concoction of just crushed ice and alcohol. Tequila shots were one thing, those were one and done.

These though...

Alejandra sighed heavily, taking the cup. "Gracias niña bonita." She muttered, second-guessing the compliment she'd given and deciding to take an overly big sip of the drink, a drink that was fairly strong and Alex could feel the burn in her throat as much as she could her chest. Not wanting to make a fool out of herself, she swallowed the drink.

No, she wasn't going to spit it out.

"What's up, Alex?"

How to even begin to answer that question.

The brunette cleared her throat, placing the cup down and mulling it over on how to answer before she did. "My blood pressure, apparently," She let out a breathy chuckle, "I've been killing myself over this film thing. I thought it'd be easy, and uh, I don't know. I'm just..." Alex shrugged, letting that speak for her considering she wasn't quite sure on what to say about it.

"Nervous. I guess? That sounds dumb. I don't know-- sorry, you wanna have fun and I'm killing your... vibe." She said, doing an airy hand gesture at the end of her sentence. Simone had a whole thing going on, Alex didn't want to be that debby-downer on her night.

She isn't being a... 'woe is me' kinda gal, but the brunette always regretted being honest with somebody. Well, to a extent. There was always something that bugged her about something she'd say, how she'd overshare or a simpers thing that probably wasn't even that serious to give a second thought.

Like now, for instance.

She didn't want Simone to get all... sad-eyed.

Not that, that was possible in the first place it was just, a good time.

Alex didn't want to ruin a good time.

"But! I can do fun. Fun is easy. Let's do fun. Uh, can't promise I can stay long though. Naomi and I kinda made plans."

Alex pulled her phone from her back pocket, swiping up for any incoming messages and biting the corner of her lip, taking in the realization that it was blank.

Kinda plans were still plans.

Kinda.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD:
welp

OUTFIT:
Jacket & shirt
sweatpants & shoes
​

INFO

LOCATION:
outside school

WITH:
Chanel, Mikaela, Magnolia

MENTION:
Nate​

ACTIVITY

Soap , Xed , @Kitsune2202

TAGS

cappie

He only had himself to blame for not staying vigilant.

A surprise hug and a kiss on the cheek from a drunk girl would’ve hardly made anyone suspicious, unless you’re just a very distrustful, paranoid person. Mikaela was harmless, and she seemed very harmless to him. Also, he may have been concerned about her possibly falling over, so he just did the polite thing and hugged Mikaela back while also holding on to her. Cappie was a hugger, too, so why not? Well, he was kind of trapped in the hug, so he didn’t really have much of a choice.

Cappie half-dragged himself and Mikaela to the doors, his head turned away to ignore smelling directly at whatever liquor was emitting from her breath. What did she have, vodka or tequila? Yes. With his focus on keeping their balance as steady as possible, Cappie didn’t suspect a single thing.

Until Mikaela let go.

"What do we have here...the keys to Nellie's heart?"

What?

It took him a couple of seconds to register the familiar set of keys in her hands—oh, shit. He quickly padded down his baby-blue jacket and turned out its pockets, but found nothing in them. What was it that Nate told him to do? Just don't let anyone else take these…

Oops.

It wasn’t just the keys that she nicked from him. She also took his wallet and his extra vape pen. If Cappie didn’t get that pen back, he’d have to pay back his Clash Dome film coworker over $50, that is if he had a single penny left later. And now he understood why his mom always warned him not to keep stuff in his jacket pockets.

For two drunk girls, Mikaela and Maggie were surprisingly spritely. The former pushed him before he could react, and he stumbled toward Chanel. Fortunately, neither of them toppled over when they caught each other. She held onto his shoulders, and he held under her arms...

Why were they holding onto each other so closely?

And then that moment broke when Chanel acted like Chanel and walked away before he could say thank you. Rude.

He watched her attempt to open the doors and fail. They were locked outside together.

“I didn’t expect her to be so nimble,” Cappie grumbled, responding to her scolding.

"My phone is dead, so..."

Even the way she looked at him was bossy, not just her personality. Yeesh. He took out his phone (which he could’ve done without her bossy look) and began messaging Nate. For a minute, Cappie told him about the school keys being stolen and apologized. On the top right corner of his phone, the last two percent of the battery quickly depleted. He should really start deleting the hundreds of random screenshots from his storage..

“Aaaand now mine is, too.” Cappie put his phone away. (In the pocket of his sweatpants.) “Good news: I’ve managed to tell someone we’re locked out.” And then he muttered, in slight embarrassment, “Except I forgot to tell him where exactly.”

Cappie let out a sigh. Not in frustration like Chanel was feeling, but more like in disappointment with himself for being, as Chanel said, locked out of a high school by a sixteen year old girl. So typical of his luck. But he wasn’t going to stand around and whine about it like her.

“If you wanna charge your phone, the car I drove in to get here has a USB port,” he said, nodding at the parking lot far across from them. “And yes, I still have the car keys on me. You’re not exactly dressed for camping out on a school bench.”

code by valen t.

 

[natsukashii]

Hunter Drake

For so many reasons, Hunter was continuously finding himself thinking coming here was a goddamn mistake.

And is he wrong?

Well, let's count the many things that had transpired, in-person and virtual, that was not only caused by his stupidity but enhanced by his stubbornness.

First off, there was him not texting Nickie when he got to the school immediately. Or if he didn't do it almost immediately, he could have at least done so after he and Ash got done talking. He maybe could have been the good boyfriend he always preached about being and let his girl know "hey, I'm here outside. So whenever you're free from doing whatever, come find me. Love you bye!" That wouldn't have taken much of his time and it would have saved him the heartache he felt right now (among other things).

But then came that second thing.

Hunter ignorantly ignoring how miserable his girl was by ranting about how happy he was. Like, can you say conceited? He spent so many seconds going on about how he had an epiphany about how he really wasn't like Chas and Dei. About how he spent so much time trying to be like them, but in a typical Kordei Grant and Chas Marino move, he ignored the feelings of the person he loved, which was a total a-hole move.

And the end result being that he and Nickie had a huge fight and he exploded on Twitter. First in Ash's dms for...answers? No, even he didn't know at this point.

And the more he sat on it, the more he tried to recover from Charlie decking him, Hunter really wasn't in the mood to linger about this stupid school and especially not on this stupid night. He wasn't bleeding profusely from his nose. He even checked to see if it was broken. He wasn't a doctor, but at least he could say that much. It just really hurt.

Hunter wished that was the only thing that hurt, but the truth was he was hurting emotionally too. Hindsight had blessed him but it was also a curse.

The curse of being Hunter Drake. And he was kind of done with this night.

And so with a grunt, Hunter limped down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't have the strength to carry his bag. It dragged on the floor and there was just so much eating at him. The mistakes he made with so many people tonight. At least Charlie let him know how he felt. Granted, he would've preferred not to get punched in the face and kneed somewhere else, but at least he knew where they stood.

But the others? He just didn't know. He didn't know if he could make up for what he immediately regretted in how he treated Ash. Lord knows she was probably the last good friend he had and if he fucked things up with her, he might as well pack his bags and move back with his parents.

Let's not go that far now.

Okay, maybe not that, but Hunter wanted to make things right. But if it was too soon, then he might just make things worse.

As he continued to walk, finally aware that he literally had no idea where he was heading, his legs started to ache. The sound of the bones cracking and the soreness he felt in the soles of his feet was evident that he needed to take a rest somewhere. That and the pain between his legs from the gift that Charlie gave him, courtesy of her knee, was also giving him difficulties.

Hunter needed to rest asap!

And he just went into the nearest classroom he could find. He didn't register that there might be people in it and he didn't care if he was being honest. Hunter was in autopilot mode and he took a seat at a desk and let out a groan. He stretched his legs for a few slow moments, took off his shoes and allowed his toes to breathe. They didn't look like they were worked out to the brim, but as he took the time to crack each toe knuckle(?), feeling the stress in his feet being release one toe at a time.

"Ah, that feels better."

And as he leaned back. And as Hunter allowed himself to actually take a breather, he grunted out in a satisfying way, head turning to his left and maybe it was just his luck, but he cursed himself all the same. There he saw Ash and Trevor, sitting or standing -- Hunter couldn't tell from his angle, but they were here. And he had to ask himself just what the fuck kind of Karma was this? Was this everything shitty he did just coming back to haunt him in different ways?

"Fuck me..." He muttered, getting up, and he...Hunter struggled to move in any direction.

His body wouldn't let him leave and his guilt froze him as he tried to approach.

For obvious reasons but still. Seeing Ash so soon after he basically publically shamed her and he couldn't deal with this right now.

But...but...

Say something, idiot.

"Fancy meeting you guys here."

mood
Yolo! I'm being blunt for once!

location
Inside somewhere near a storage closet

outfit
Lock-in Ready!

playing...
Without U I Wanna Be Dead

by brake and Kellin Quinn​

mentions
Nickie, Chas, Dei, Charlie, Ash, Trevor

interactions
Ash, Trev

tags
ohdittoh Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

felix rian emmerson

pleasure's all mine

"You are also an amazing person Felix,” Maeve said. “I really mean it. I'm glad to have you as a friend.”

Well, that felt nice to say. Not many people went around complimentin’ his character so much as his services, ya know?

“Shucks,” Felix said, grinnin’ shyly and wavin’ a hand dismissively, but he was really deeply flattered. “Thanks. I try.”

He really did try, and he really didn’t get enough credit. That was somethin’ that he really didn’t appreciate. Though he acted like it wasn’t a big deal, it kinda was. It was nice to finally get a little bit of thanks.

“That name for sure doesn't ring a bell, but since you talk so highly of him and his talent, he must really be good at it,” she said cheerfully, about Slater. “And since you two are paired together I'm sure it's going to be great, so I'll be looking forward to it.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s amazing, really.” Felix sat up from his backpack, seeming to lose interest in whatever he was digging for in it. “You see him and you’re like ‘that guy?’, but then you see his work and it’s stunnin'." He chuckled. “It’s like some kinda voodoo or somethin’. Maybe he has a pact with a demon who does his work for him. Ya never know.”

It’d kinda make sense. As much as he liked the guy, it was…I mean, the fact that he could make stuff like that? It really blew Felix’s mind to the point of near disbelief.

Maeve spoke again. ”I think you are exaggerating on my dancing skills, but acting is also so demanding, being able to learn a script and develop different feelings so easily I could never do it. My memory can barely handle the things we see in the class, I would have messed up so many times that they would have told me to just give up and I would have just said you are right.” She gave a small chuckle.

“Well, thank you,” Felix said, once again appreciative of the credit she was givin’ him, “but I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

Dancin’ was taxin’, y'know. He’d had to learn to foxtrot for a movie and damn near considered choppin’ off his own feet to avoid continuin’ lessons.

Plus, the girl was here, at the prestigious Hollywood Arts. No one who was less than one of the best got in here unless they were a) flushed to the point of usin’ money as fire kindlin’ or b) had an ins with one of the higher-ups.

"That Slater guy, really seems like an interesting guy for sure,” Maeve continued. “I might not be an expert on animation, basically, all my knowledge and appreciation for it are coming from all the animated movies that I binged watch while I was stuck on my bed, but I think being an animator is really cool, or it seems something where you need so much creativity if I'm pretty sure I would have sucked at acting, I don't want to imagine the horror it would have been tried something like an animation when I can't even draw to save my life.”

“I don’t know jack shit about animation, either,” he laughed, taking the flask from Maeve to take a swig from it. He passed it back to her. “My crooked stick men show all of my artistic talent, and even those take me a solid twenty minutes to mock up.”

She went on with her speaking. ”Wow, if he really does animate the whole thing, there are two options he is either a genius or he is an idiot, but in a good way, I'm not trying to offend anyone here.” She grabbed the flask and took a sip from it.

“A good kinda idiot is a pretty accurate way to describe him, just in general,” Felix chuckled.

Emphasis on the idiot.

Hey, sorry Slater. It was the truth.

She laughed at his press comment. “The only press I could access is the one of my middle school, and I really doubt they would be too eager to publish it on the school newspaper.” She chuckled.

“Middle schoolers always love some juicy celebrity gossip,” Felix teased with a raise of his eyebrow and a grin.

She seemed to be especially curious about his co-stars, and he noted the change in her expression. “You know, just because I was gone and I'm from Mississippi doesn't mean I live under a rock, of course I know Chanel Clairmont, she is the daughter of Freya Clairmont, and I only know this because my cousin is like the biggest fan of hers, I can close my eyes and hear all her repertoire because she would always play it on the car.” She shivered, and Felix laughed.

Part of being around famous people all the time— and being an up-and-coming star himself— was that he forgot that they were famous people.

"Listen,” Maeve continued. “I’ll never say no to going to the movies so if you can I'll love to go, but don't feel obligated if you can’t.” She smiled.

He waved his hand. “No obligation here. Just feel like it’d be a nice treat for someone who deserves it, y’know.”

Plus, his mom and dad were probably going to be the only people who’d tag along. Maybe he could drag Slater along, too, and possibly Kian, but that’d be just about it as far as guests went. Having Maeve would just be a small addition.

Maeve started to answer his question: ”Well, I think my favorite thing about being back in the environment, I mean in my freshman year I felt terrified because everything was so fast and everyone was running to make it from a place to another, but I guess I got used to all the liveliness of the place that when I was back home everything felt so slow and uneventful.”

He nodded as she spoke, and when he finished, he gave another solid nod. “Everything does go so fast, doesn’t it? I’m more of a ‘take it easy’ kinda guy usually, but there’s something about everyone rushin’ around here that…dunno, motivates you.” He paused, and he pressed a hand to his chest for a second. “Or, well, it does me. Makes me wanna move, y’know. Carpe the diem, as they say.”

That was really one of the best parts about this place— if you sat still for too long, you’d be trampled.

Call Felix cutthroat, but he liked it that way. It kept the people who didn’t deserve to be here outta here, and it really showed everyone’s true colors.

"If you really pull out another flask, full of this I'll have to be worried about you because you might seriously have a problem for sure,” Maeve chuckled.

Felix laughed. “Psh, nah, that’s tonight’s supply. You think that’s bad, go and look at some of the seniors’ stock.” He gestured at nothing in particular as he continued. “I’d be willing to bet money that they have half a liquor store altogether. What’s in there is just a drop in the ocean, so to speak. Plus, it’s pretty strong stuff. Should be plenty.”

He paused, leaning his shoulders back against the bleachers behind them, and he reached out for the flask again. He took a quick drink from it. “I gotta say my favorite part of being back in Hollywood’s gotta be the…huh…well, what is it?”

Nothin’ really, besides the power of the streets and that rush that Maeve mentioned already. It made him stand prouder, with his shoulders back, because he knew people were lookin’, y’know? Everyone scrutinized everyone, and the competition kept things interestin’, even if Felix much preferred to blend into the crowd in his day-to-day life.

Huh, that wasn’t a good answer.

“It kinda makes me feel small, and I think that’s neat,” he said finally. “Now I’m not some big name, but I’m not some nobody either.” He was downplayin’ himself there, of course, but at least not criminally so. “I go other places and I’m the big man in town. I visit some of the folks back in Alabama an’ I’m the center of attention. But here, I’m just a guy on the sidelines, just kinda watchin’, y’know? Kinda hands me the slice of that old humble pie, but I really appreciate it.”

Yeah, Felix was playin’ the humble card, but hey, it seemed like the best card to play at this point. Plus, it definitely made for some food for thought and some interesting’ conversation between sips of the liquor in the flask.

“That’s something about this place I enjoy: even just…bein’ here, ya learn,” he continued. “You kinda learn that everyone’s small in the grand scheme of things, and in that way, we’re all the same, huh? We’re all just rushin’ about, scurryin’ an’ tryin’ to win at the game of life when really, there ain’t no winners. There’s always a bigger guy or a bigger girl, and if that ain’t it, then there’s at least a bigger town or a bigger city or, hell, a bigger ocean, y’know? It can be weird an’ super existential to think about, so I don’t think about it often, but…it’s neat, huh?”

Neat, or empowerin’, dependin’ on who you asked. Felix personally thought the latter more than the former.

There was nothin’ like the chance to take down the bigger guys and prove yourself, ya know?

Nothin' like risin' to the top...even if that meant you had to step on a few toes.

Or a few heads. However it went.

mood
catchin' up

location
the gym

outfit
somethin' casual

playing...
take a slice

by glass animals​

mentions
damien & chanel

interactions
maeve

tags
Stardust Galaxy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@genjohanne has set their status to:
I'm fucking over this shit

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
jace's tears, probably

@genjohanne has set their location to:
the locked classroom of doom

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Ash, Oates

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Jace, Callum, Mike, Landon

@genjohanne has tagged:
Winona hery ohdittoh gh0stwriter

The only thing that would have made the whole situation better was if Jace and Callum had just been honest with what had happened in the first place. In Gen’s mind, the little shits were getting exactly what they deserved. Callum was clearly uncomfortable with the whole scenario and Jace, well Jace was doing what Jace did best: bitch and moan while he sobbed pathetic tears.

Gen wasn’t surprised when Jace stammered through a rough rundown of what had happened. Jace wasn’t exactly someone known for being tough nor was he stupid enough to not tell Gen what she needed to hear. Even though what he had told her was enough for Gen to want to rearrange his face, she refrained and instead walked a few paces to the right and grabbed a chair. Pulling it up beside him, Gen motioned for Jace to grab a seat before walking to the other corner of the room to grab a bottle of water from her bag and a box of tissues from the teacher’s desk at the front of the room.

“Don’t pass out.” Gen spoke coldly, handing the water and tissues to Jace. As cruel as Gen was, she wasn’t entirely heartless. “And thank you for telling me the truth.”

Information in hand, Gen turned back to Callum and crossed her arms over her chest. The little anaemic fucker would require a different approach than Jace did, his stupid resilience becoming somewhat of a neusance to Gen. But, before Gen could speak any of the words bubbling to the tip of her tongue, Callum spoke first.

"So what? What happens between Ash and I is our business. Neither of us should take the heat because they chose to drag us over here." Callum spoke above the noise, a crashing in the background causing him to speak louder. "I yelled at Ash. I called her on all her bullshit and I'll never regret that. You don't get to humiliate Jace and excuse her because she's your friend."

“Unfortunately,” Gen began with a passive smile, “you made it my problem the second you came to this room. If you really didn’t care what I had to say, or if you thought it wasn’t my business, why follow Mike and Evie in the first place? You could’ve manned up and stayed where you were but instead, you crawled along behind Mike and Evie for whatever stupid reason. That, right there, made this my business.”

Gen knew more was coming, she could tell by the first glint of expression she had ever seen in Callum’s eyes. Genuinely, she was certain that this was the first time that she had ever seen Callum actually emote, and the fact that it was in the face of violence and drama said a whole lot about him.

"You have more pressing shit to deal with. I'm not the only one who lost a friend tonight. Was it worth it? All for a quick fuck?" Callum continued to rant, the more he talked the more venom there was dripping from his words. Oh, he was mad and fuck, was it ever amusing to Gen. “At least I own up to being a shitty person. The only person you have fooled is yourself."

There was a quick pause with enough room to interject her thoughts into the conversation but, instead of speaking, Gen remained silent for the first time that night. Clearly the guy had stuff he needed to get off his chest and no matter how useless his words were in making Gen upset, who was she to deny him the right to ranting?

"Yet something tells me you're fully aware of the way you break everything you touch until it withers into nothing. Look at yourself. You cried so hard because you know you can't keep lying to yourself anymore! How funny is that!" His voice rang through the classroom again. Somewhere behind Gen, the fight had picked up from the sounds of the grunting and clashing sounds of furniture and classroom tools in the line of fire. She’d deal with them in a minute. "You and me, we're the fucking same! Admit it!"

Slowly, a wide grin creeped onto Gen’s lips at Callum’s words. Deflection was a foolish game to play with someone like Gen, someone that took great pride in being able to keep up with mind games. Clearly, Callum had thought that his words were going to get under her skin and piss her off. Clearly, he wanted her to feel worse than she already was. Clearly, he wanted to get in her head and prove that he was some big tough guy.

Unfortunately for him, Gen didn’t give a shit. She wasn’t about to be hurt by things she knew were true. So, instead of retaliating, Gen burst into laughter and flicked her hair over her shoulders.

“Hold on, give me a minute to pretend like I’m hurt.” Gen managed between gasps for air, dramatically placing a hand on her chest to suppress the laughter. “I mean seriously. A single slutshaming comment and you calling me a shitty person was supposed to hurt my feelings? And come on, comparing yourself to me? Please, I already know we’re built from the same cloth, darling.”

Gen leaned back onto the doorframe behind her, tilting her head to one side as she motioned to Callum with one hand.

“You are just as cruel and heartless as I am. We both have reputations that people avoid for whatever reason, be it fear or distaste. We both can’t keep a friend if our lives depended on it, nor are any of our romantic relationships healthy. I mean come on! I fucked my best friend’s brother after I fucked someone he absolutely hated just a few hours earlier and the only meaningful connection you can maintain is some guy that only wants you when he needs to feel like he’s fixing you. It’s fucking adorable!” Gen laughed, her words blunt and honest as they spewed from her lips.

There was no denying that Callum’s words were correct, they were far more similar than Gen would ever admit under normal circumstances, so why not play into it? Besides, he was hurting too, why else would he be going after Gen and not helping Jace? Without doing anything, Gen was under his skin.

“You know,” she continued, the steady laugh that had been bubbling from her chest stopping in favour of a more relaxed and nonchalant tone. “I bet that you do the same thing I do. I bet you’ve stayed up many late nights wondering why people can’t stand you. I bet there’s times that you look at your reflection in a mirror and see nothing but a fucking unrecognizable monster. I bet you wonder when everyone will leave you because hell, you know no one is really around because they actually care about you. No, they’re around because they want to fix you.” Gen pushed herself off the wall, taking a few slow steps towards Callum.

“Because as you are right now, you’re flawed, you’re unlovable, unrecognizable, fucking worthless at the end of the day without someone actively trying to fix you. That’s the difference between you and me, Callum. We are both fucked up people but people like the thrill of being around me, of spending their time with someone they know will hurt them. And when people leave me, there’s always a backup. But you?” Gen reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder, fingertips gently patting his back. “Well, one day all the people fucking stupid enough to take you on as their little pet project will leave you. Because at the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a fucking charity case that other people use to make themselves feel whole. One day they’ll all realize that there’s no fixing you and they’ll all leave.” Gen winked and threw her signature smirk on her lips. “With Ash gone, your numbers are dwindling. Hell, even Jace cracked. It won’t be long until Oates leaves too. But I think you already knew that.”

Releasing her grip, Gen turned to Jace. Hopefully he was doing somewhat better, the poor guy looked as if he was going to leap right out of his skin just moments earlier. As much as Gen despised Jace with her entire being, she had known him for long enough to know that most of his assholish tendencies came from the fact that he was impressionable and naive. There wasn’t any reason he should be fucked with more for that.

Gen decided that she would deal with the whole Ash crying situation later once they were out of the stupid fucking room. She would have been far more concerned if she hadn’t realized that somewhere in the school there was Eli, who certainly had heard about this in some capacity and would have likely done a better job of taking care of the situation then Gen could ever have. So, with the situation temporarily under control, she turned her attention to the two raging bulls tearing up the classroom behind her.

The damage had clearly been done between the two from the quick glimpses of split lips and swelling cheekbones Gen could see in the chaos. Fists and feet were flying as they grappled on the ground, their bodies slamming into desks causing books and pencils to clatter to the ground. For a solid minute, Gen simply sat there and watched the boys fight. It was almost amusing and hell, they certainly weren’t about to talk their feelings out.

“That’s right, get it out boys.” Gen spoke bluntly, leaning back onto a desk as they grappled and fought.

She briefly considered going back over to Callum and Jace to try and figure out how to get out of the damn room but cancelled the idea. With Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb (which is which is entirely up to reader interpretation) causing a ruckus in the background, Gen sure as hell wasn’t about to concentrate on mission impossible.

A thump from in front of Gen was enough to pull her attention back to the fight. The rolling around on the ground had resulted in Mike pinning Landon to the ground, fist raised in the air to smash down onto his face. From the angle he was at to the flash of rage in his eyes, Gen had decided that the hit would’ve been enough to knock Landon out or at the very minimum cause enough damage that they would’ve needed to make a lovely trip to a hospital.

“Alright, enough’s enough.” She groaned, walking over to the boys. There was no way in hell that she was going to be able to pull Mike entirely off Landon so instead, she pushed him off to the side and slammed her foot down onto the centre of his chest. Smiling down at Mike, Gen shook her head. “Cool it the fuck down, Reid.”

She then looked over to Landon and moved so that she was standing in between the boys. Gen pitied them if they tried to hit each other and got her caught in the middle, it would become a lawsuit they would never hear the end of. But, Gen wasn’t concerned about getting hit. Anger or no anger, Gen being someone that they cared enough about to some degree was enough to hopefully protect her from the violence.

“And seriously? Fighting Mike?” Gen asked Landon with a roll of her eyes. “You’re better than that.”

Reaching a hand out to each person to help them up, Gen’s smile faltered, grin replaced with a look of nothing but pure exhaustion. Turning her attention to Mike, Gen forced the smile back onto her face.

“Don’t think I forgot about your little slutshaming comment, Mike. You’re nothing more than a warm fucking body, Reid, and we established I’m the same for you. You don’t get to walk around here and pretend that you had ownership or claim or what the fuck ever over me because we fucked a few times. Get over yourself. If you wanted the exclusive, maybe you shouldn’t have been such a little bitch and told me about it.” Gen snarled, keeping her body wedged between the two boys as she spoke. “Now, can you two stop bitch fighting for like five minutes so we can get the fuck out of here? This situation will be dealt with but not here, not like this.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan

feckin' fuck off

Trevor chuckled softly as Ash teased him back. At this point, he figured that she couldn’t really get any worse. She was already piss drunk, probably to the point that she wouldn’t remember any of this come morning. They were both sitting down, so she couldn’t really fall and hurt herself too badly, and if she started to convulse, he’d call 9-1-1.

A throb of pain shot through his head at that thought.

Jesus Christ, what if she did start to convulse or something? Would he be liable? How the hell would he explain that? Yeah, I let her keep drinkin’— but I swear—!? That wouldn’t cut it in the court of law.

Could he go to jail? Or would he just be sued by her bitch of a mother?

He was too young to be sued— he was hardly seventeen. That would ruin his whole career, forever marring his name and tarnishing his reputation, and he couldn’t handle that kinda thing, especially not right feckin’ now— or ever, really, but especially not now. He had too much life to live, even if life seemed to have a feckin’ vendetta against him.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

He put a hand on her shoulder, clenching his jaw as his tension headache ramped up. He glared at the emptying bottle that she swirled, his frazzled nerves compelling him to snatch it and his will, weakened by the alcohol and the stress, only barely holding him back from doing it.

He heard a buzz, and she reached down to grab her phone from her pocket. He stole a quick glance at her screen— quick so as to not arouse suspicion— and he only looked long enough to see the name of the contact: Hunter.

He sat back against the wall, turning his head away from her and looking at the wall, working his lips as he heard her tapping out a message on her phone screen.

“I ummm…one..one sec…one,” she mumbled, and there was a soft rattle as she moved the bottle between them. “I uhh…it’s, it’s Hunter.”

“Alrighty,” he said, reaching down and picking up the bottle without moving his eyes from the spot.

HIs head was throbbing from his neurosis, and his finger rubbed on the side of the bottle. For a second, he looked down at the bottle, his lips pulling into a disgusted expression as he realized just how much bacteria there had to have been on its lips just from them sharing, and then he remembered that 1) Ash was his girlfriend and sharing spit was kind of a thing (which, thinking about it that way still made him a bit revolted) and 2) that it was alcohol. He wasn’t a scientist or anything, but Germ-X was called alcohol gel, which had to mean that it had alcohol in it, so tipsy Trevor logic reasoned that there couldn’t be any germs on the bottle in the first place.

He tipped the bottle up again and took a long drink, his face relaxing except for his eyebrows, and he stole a glance over at Ash before looking back at the desks—

And then he did a double-take, lowering the bottle and sitting it beside them again.

His head pounded in panic as she reached for the bottle, his brows dropping low. He studied her face, wanting to ask what was wrong, but he couldn’t even get that out. He put a hand up to his head, holding it and working his jaw as he looked away from her.

(You’d think that he’d learn by now that alcohol does not help his stress— it makes it worse, if anything— but I must remind you: this is Trevor we’re talking about. The boy has a maximum of two braincells, and they most often work on shifts.)

He could hear her breathing growing heavy, and he had to look back over at her. “Are you good?” he asked.

His answer, upon seeing her, was an obvious feck no.

She was just fucking guzzling from the bottle.

He stared in bewilderment, blinking at her, frozen and unsure of what to do.

And then his head throbbed, and his vision splotched with purples and greens, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and held his head in his lap.

OhGodohGodohJesusfeckingChristohGodohGoDOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD.

Through the searing pain of a splitting headache and the sharp, high-pitched ringing in his ears it caused, Trevor was hardly able to register a buzzing in his own pocket.

He had the main Twitter muted; it could only be a dm or a notification from something else.

With his hands shaking from frayed nerves, he clenched his teeth together, slightly irritated by the fact that he was being bothered, too.

The text was from…Eli?

if you let so much as one hair on ash's head get hurt, I'll kill you myself. got it? you're responsible for her.

Jesus Christ, not a threat right now.

With a sharp sigh that sent a pang through his head, the boy who was so stressed out that he was nearly beyond the point of comprehensibility typed out a quick, short message that would end the conversation right away:

Noted. I don't plan on it.

Even in his mild drunkenness, he was sure to properly punctuate; it was his subtle way of saying now feck off and stop talking to me.

Didn’t work. Never worked.

FuckingfeckingFUCK.

good because I like you and I would really hate to dislike you

THENDON’T.

Fucking— he’d said he’d handle it. That was all that should be needed.

Yeah, no, no need to threaten me. I'm handling it.

He was handling it.

Maybe not right this second, but he was.

But Eli texted back.

Again.

God, fuck—

you'd better call me if it's too much for you. I don't care if she's your girlfriend and you feel like you have to. don't kill yourself over this

A shot of panic flashed through Trevor, and his eyes widened.

Girlfriend?!

Girlfriend? I don't know what you're talking about.

How the fuck did Eli k—?!

…

Oh, right.

I forgot that you knew. Nevermind.

I'm not doing this because I feel like I have to.

Which he wasn’t. He was doing it because he wanted to.

Even with his pounding head.

Even with his shot fecking nerves.

Now, was that—

yeah, I'm sorry about that. I'm glad you're doing this because you want to but please, she can be a lot, don't take all of that on by yourself if you can't

Good Christ.

I won't.

How many times do I have to say that?!

And, thankfully, no other text came, and he looked back over at Ash, who—

SHITESHITTYSHITE.

She was drinking again.

His head throbbed, and he held it, his eyes squinting, but he forced himself to keep looking through the pain.

She tucked the cold bottle close to her chest, and she slipped her phone into her pocket. Her fingers were shaking and clumsy, and he reached over to help just as she got it.

He stared at her for a long moment, still unsure of what to do as his head throbbed with each beat of his rapid, concerned heart rate.

“Are you…is…what happened?” Trevor managed in a soft voice.

She stared at the bottle, and she spoke in a quiet voice: ”Hunter umm…hates me.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice hardly even there, because what the fuck else do you say to that?

He knew how close her and the little shite were. He knew how much he meant to her.

And…now…she thought he hated her.

Fuck him.

She took another drink, and he just watched, wholly unsure of what to do.

"Hey, could we…umm…” Her voice cracked.

“Could we…?” he asked, prompting her to continue by raising his brows. It was the best encouragement he could muster.

”Like…ummm…like, leave?” she asked. “I...everyone's like…hates me, and I just…”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes wrought with confusion and concern and worry. You could see the cogs turning in his head, and then the words finally clicked.

“Oh,” he said, and then he nodded. “Oh, yeah, yeah.” He pressed his palm agains the ground and went to stand. “W-We—“

But he was cut off by the door opening, and he froze.

His head gave a solid, world-bending pound.

Trevor watched in utter shocked, stunned silence as the universe’s cruel sense of humor reared its head:

Hunter Drake, casual, made his way to a desk in the row of seats just in front of Trevor and Ash. Taking his time, he stretched his legs, then took off his shoes. Trevor’s lips curled into a disgusted grimace as he watched the horror of the boy cracking each toe knuckle.

"Ah, that feels better,” he sighed, and he leaned back. He let out a grunt—

And then he turned his head, and Trevor immediately met his eyes.

“Fuck me…,” Trevor muttered, just as Hunter did the same.

And they were both kinda frozen, it seemed, and they just kinda stared for a second.

And then the dumbarse— the dumbarse in the chair, not the one on the floor— took the scissors and clipped the tension.

"Fancy meeting you guys here."

“Yeah, really fecking pleasant, in’t it?”

Trevor’s retort slipped out, short, unamused, and angry.

Trevor’s brows knit tightly together, lowering in anger, and he pushed up off of the ground, standing. His world swam for a second, but that didn’t stop him from taking a wobbly step away from the wall. “Is this coincidence?” he asked rhetorically. “Or do you really think showin’ yer idiotic face in front of the girl who you just made guzzle down half a bottle of vodka is a nice, neat extra little fuck you bow on top of the lovely gift of feckin’ mortal sufferin’ you’ve so benevolently bestowed upon her?” As he spoke, his voice became more venomous, dripping in mockery as he picked the most pretentious words he could, since the little gobshite obviously thought in that arrogant way.

He reached the desk, placing upon it a hand shaking with the panic and anger of the moment. “I’d suggest that ya came here because you were guilty or some shite like that, or outta consideration for Ash or somethin’ that showed any kinda character of any kinda sort, but— well, for one, I don’t think you’re capable of complex emotions, but two— you come in here like you’re king shit, walkin’ so casually to a desk after you sent a damn innocent girl into a spiral of self-guilt over fuckin’— I don’t give an elephant’s arsehole what the fuck it was over, and I don’t want to feckin’ know.” He scowled in disgust, looking down his nose at him. He pointed a jabbed at Hunter. “You feckin’ strutted in here.” He jabbed his finger at the desk. “You acted like you owned the damn place, cracked your—“ He gagged at the thought. “Cracked your feckin’ toes on the disgusting school floor, and came and propped your feet up. Ya wouldn’t’ve looked out of fucking place in a magazine with a feckin’ piña colada in each hand— but lemme tell you something, you pathetic mass of unwanted matter.”

In a quick motion, Trevor gripped the desk beside Hunter in both hands and threw his anger to it— and the small desk responded by flipping onto its side.

Not the most intimidating thing, a desk flip, but it at least helped to demonstrate Trevor’s fury.

He worked his arms for a moment after it landed, rubbing the inside of his elbows and holding back a grimace.

And then, he looked at the boy in the chair again, and he closed in on him, scowling darkly. Trevor pointed back at Ash, at the girl on the wall, hugging the bottle. “You need to look at what you’ve fecking done, and you need to wallow in it,” he growled lowly to Hunter. He dropped his finger. “I don’t give a shite what justification your toddler brain thinks that you have for doin’ what ya’ve done. She could’ve murdered a feckin’ tribe of your precious Batman figurines, I don’t give a single damn. That?! That bullshite?!” His voice was raising again. “Making her drink herself to the point where I’m fecking worried that she’s going to wind up in a goddamn hospital bed?! You. Make. Me. Physically. Fucking. Ill.”

His voice burned with anger, and now, he was yelling, unable to control it now that he was letting it all out. “You think you can get away with this shite?! Scott-feckin’-free?! Rest your—“ He gave Hunter’s legs a harsh shove off of the desk, grunting with effort. “Rest your feckin’ feet up?! Prop ‘em up, rip open a cold one to crack with the— oh shite, damn, well, feck! You don’t have any boys to speak of! You’re entirely fucking alone right now, Hunter. You realize that, right?! No one— not a single goddamn person— is here to care about you.”

Trevor laughed, because it was really fucking funny how feckin' pitiful the kid was, and then he continued. “One of the only people in your pitiful life who actually cared about you is sittin' there, drinkin’ in the feckin’ floor, probably not carin’ if she lives or dies from it, blamin’ herself for all of the feckin’ problems in the world because of somethin’ you said— but that obviously doesn’t mean shite to you! Ha! Wild feckin’ idea, that you’d care about the people in yer life, in’t it?! You little feckin’ narcissist— came to prop your feckin’ feet up after the shite you pulled.” He jabbed a finger into the boy’s chest— one jab for each of his final words— and then he dropped his hand and took a step back.

“If you think you can just get away with this shite,” he started, voice and expression throughly and utterly disgusted, “if you think this is just okay, if you think this is something she deserved?! Drown yerself in the ditch outside. They’ll care more about gettin’ yer body outta the waterways than they ever did about your disposable, miserable, pathetic, revoltin’ presence.”

He leaned forward towards Hunter, and— “pfto”— spat on his face, raising a middle finger and walking back to Ash.

He held out a hand to her. “We’re goin’ now,” he said shortly, not looking back at Hunter. He reached down and took the bottle from her so it was easier, holding it in the crook of his elbow and grabbing her hand. He pulled her up before handing the bottle back to her, his brows set low and his face cold. “Get all of yer stuff— I’ll take ya home.”

His own backpack was in his locker, and he wasn’t worried about it a bit.

Offering his hand to her to help her walk more steadily, he looked back at Hunter. “At least you were kind enough to leave the feckin’ door open— real nice’a ya,” he drawled loudly and sarcastically.

He offered a final middle finger to the boy as he tugged her out the door, and then he turned around to face him from the doorway. “Have a miserable feckin’ night— hope it’s the last one'a yer life,” he said, smiling pleasantly, and then he slammed the door as hard as he could.

It rattled as when it shut, and Trevor stared at it for a second, shoulders heaving with ragged breaths. His hands were shaking, and his arms hurt from the physical exertion. His head gave a dull throb, and he raised his free hand to hold it.

After a moment of catching his breath, he realized, though—

Hey, his headache’d let up some.

He cracked a small smile, and he looked down at Ash. “Well,” he said, sighing. His voice was much lighter before— the yelling had proven rather cathartic, if a bit straining on the voice. “Now that that’s over…let’s mosey our ways home, do ya say?”

mood
...

location
the hallway

outfit
something casual

playing...
the funeral

by band of horses​

mentions
n/a

interactions
ash & hunter (& eli by text, technically)

tags
Winona natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
T he
C ute
F eelsies

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
sunflowers & denim

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
the storage building

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
n/a

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Lin

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ohdittoh

Charlie had asked her question without really preparing herself for what the answer may be. Perhaps it was because she knew without being explicitly told that everything was sort of perfect and that perfection couldn’t be achieved without the other person feeling the same way. But anyone who knew Charlie in any capacity knew that she was a worrier, someone that had to be constantly reassured that she wasn’t fucking up no matter how good something was going. So, in the brief silence that fell between question and answer, Charlie felt her stomach drop in worry.

What if she was fucking up? What if she hadn’t been as attentive as he had wanted or as flirtatious as what was usually expected? What if their dates, which were more like hangouts, weren’t romantic enough? What if, what if, what if?

“I think I like this,” Lin finally said, breaking through the silence. “I think…I think everything is…fucking perfect. I…dunno. I dunno, I mean…”

Another pause fell upon the room. Part of Charlie wanted to interject and apologize for even asking, she knew being sentimental and all mushy wasn’t exactly one of Lin’s strong suits and her original objective certainly wasn’t to make him uncomfortable. But, much to Charlie’s surprise, he had resumed talking.

The entire time Lin was offering up an answer to her rather open-ended question, Charlie just sat and listened without saying a word. All she had really expected was a verbal confirmation that she wasn’t the worst girlfriend on the face of the planet but instead, she got a heartfelt answer that far exceeded the expectation. The idea that Lin thought about her, like genuinely thought about her, was a rather foreign thought to her. The very concept that someone would choose to be so open with her, choose to let her in, choose to let her be their first practically everything… The idea was sobering, to say the least.

“And I guess that answers what I want.” Lin continued to speak, his bright laugh warming Charlie’s chest. “‘Cuz all I really want is to be around you. To be with you, ya know. That’s cheesy as hell, idn’t it? Hold up, lemme whip out my guitar really quick.”

And just like that, things were back to normal: just two pals hanging out in a dusty festival teacup while Lin put on an air guitar solo that would put the ghost of Jimi Hendrix to shame. The entire time he was shredding on the invisible strings, Charlie was laughing so hard that her ribs began to hurt and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes from the force. It was moments like that moment right then that Charlie had been talking about when she said that she forgot they were dating sometimes, moments where things were so easy that she didn’t even have to think to enjoy herself.

“Guitar solos aside,” Charlie managed as her laughter began dying out, “I’m really glad you’re happy, genuinely happy, because I’m really happy too. Like super duper extra happy, with us, with you, with everything right now. You know how worried I get about things, especially when I wanna do things right. It means a lot to me to know I’m not totally fucking everything up.”

Charlie looked down as Lin’s fingers laced together with her’s, her eyes trailing back up his arms to his face.

“You don’t have to try, Charlie.” Lin said confidently, the energy in his voice causing a smile to form on Charlie’s lips. “As long as you stay you and I stay me, we can conquer the fucking world.”

Charlie giggled softly, removing one of her hands from Lin’s to rest on the side of his neck just below his jaw. “You and me versus the world.” She mused aloud, leaning into Lin’s touch. “I like the sound of that. The world doesn’t stand a damn chance.”

“Fuck.” Lin murmured, breaking apart the brief silence that had been passed between the two of them. Charlie’s eyes drifted down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “Has anybody ever told you how gorgeous you are?”

“On occas-” Charlie had attempted to retort before she was not-so-rudely cut off by Lin’s lips on hers.

Fuck the snarky comment that she was about to make, this was a whole lot better. And hell, this time it wasn’t even weird to be kissing Lin because it wasn’t the first time. Not that she had any complaints about kissing him before because what sort of idiot has an issue with kissing their boyfriend. But this time, it was like they were more practiced, more in tune with each other.

Charlie could only hope that the skill that came with his touch was from confidence and comfort and not because he had been making out with mannequins again.

After a few moments Lin broke the kiss with his soft laugh before pulling away entirely, causing Charlie to softly groan and press her forehead into his shoulder at the loss of contact.

“Charlie-Char-Char-Charlie, I have an ideaaaa. Heheee.” He giggled, pulling away so that Charlie could see what he was motioning at. “You know what I'm thinking, Terminator?”

“I already told you I can’t read minds, dude.” Charlie sighed, looking over to the center of the teacup where Lin had become so focused in on. “But what I’m thinking is that I was really just enjoying what we had going on just now and you’re about to ask me to do something stupid.”

Sure enough, her thought process had been right.

“Teaaaaaacuuuuup...?” Lin droned on, echoing his words with a few encouraging ‘come ons’.

“What about the teacup? The thing isn’t attached to anything, spinning the wheel won’t…” Charlie’s face fell as she looked over at Lin. Her eyes squinted as she studied his face, trying to discern if he was being serious or if he was once again joking.

Who was she kidding? This was Lin she was talking to, of course he was serious.

“Liiiiiin.” Charlie groaned, trying to suppress the laugh that was forming in her chest. “We’ve been over this. I’m not…” Charlie paused, thinking back on her own words. “Okay so technically speaking I said I wouldn’t get with you on the ferris wheel but I’m fairly certain the same rule applies to all festival equipment. Sorry.”

Charlie sat back, putting space between her and the boy in front of her which absolutely fucking sucked. The last thing she wanted was space and, from the look of absolute boyish wonder in Lin’s eyes, he thought the exact same thing. She bounced around the idea for a bit, eyes looking around the teacup for any sort of solid surface. With a sigh, Charlie grabbed Lin and pulled him in, guiding him down so that she was laying beneath him, hands tangled in his hair while her lips met his.

“But things did sorta get ruined for us on Halloween night and I mean we were just having a really great time..." Charlie pondered aloud, trying to contain the giggles errupting from her chest. "If I hear one thing about me losing some stupid bet about not fucking you on fair equipment, I’m breaking up with you.” Charlie laughed as she put a few inches of space between their lips. “But if you’re sure this is what you want…” She’d better not regret this. Who was she kidding? She was with Lin, nothing she ever did with him was regrettable! “Fuck it. TCF it is.” Charlie finally gave in, pulling him in for another kiss.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

“Oh,” he said, and then he nodded. “Oh, yeah, yeah.”

Relief washed over her, a breath that she hadn't known that she was holding was slowly released, and her face relaxed into a gentle, grateful smile. She wasn't completely convinced that Trevor was the safest person to be like... driving or whatever, but she didn't care if they didn't even go anywhere off the school grounds. Just heading out of this room, with the broken shards of glass that glittered on the floor, and the eerie, tense air that she now felt like the room was caked with, like... just stepping out of this room would be enough to help the pressure lift off her chest.

He moved to start to stand, but then the sound of the door opening echoed through the room. She blinked in confusion, eyebrows drawing together, as she looked away from him to stare across the way at the door to see who had stumbled into the room, and who she saw made her instantly freeze.

Her blood turned to ice in her veins, and her fingers pressed against the cool glass of the bottle. She was frozen in place, her eyes catching on Hunter's form as he walked into the room and started to make himself at home, as if he hadn't even noticed Trevor and Ash seated there.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

She willed her stilled lungs to start working again, her breaths coming in sharp, shuddering little gasps that sounded like lion roars to her. She tried to will herself to be quieter -- as if being quiet would make her less of a target, as if being quiet would mean that Hunter would never see them, and maybe he'd just step back out of the room and the tension in the air would ebb and everything would be fine, it would be fine, it would be fine.

His gaze turned towards them, and she heard Trevor mutter a "Fuck me..." as Hunter's voice joined his in uttering the same words.

Ash's mouth was dry, and no words tumbled out.

She waited, body frozen in place, her heart thudding against her chest, for something to happen. A million different scenarios flashed through her thoughts in rapid fire succession, but she could only see this encounter going in one direction, and that direction-- that direction-- that direction--

Her eyes fluttered for a moment as she felt the unwelcome burning of tears pricking at the edges of her vision again.

The only direction she could see this going was Hunter taking the fury that he'd directed at her online out on her in person, and she wasn't-- she couldn't--

She couldn't fucking handle that again tonight.

Her bottle, still clutched against her chest, was nearly empty.

The pensive silence felt as if it dragged on for hours, until it was shattered by Hunter speaking.

"Fancy meeting you guys here."

Wh....

She blinked, her expression faltering away from Hunter to stare glossy-eyed at the tiles in front of her.

That was all he had to say. After... after everything he'd said to her through direct messages, after he had dragged her onto the public Twitter, that was the best that he could muster? That was the best thing that he could manage to say to her?

It... wasn't... his fault, though. The... the fight -- she shouldn't've yelled at Nickie, because then Hunter wouldn't've been forced to take her side, and then she wouldn't have been berated, so she couldn't even like... Ash couldn't even be mad at him. She couldn't be pissed at him for those few simple words, because she was probably the one that should be breaking the ice here. She was the one that should be attempting to fix things, not the boy seated across the room from them.

But she didn't have it in her anymore because every time she had attempted to fix things with someone, she seemed to just make it worse. If tonight had taught her anything, it was that every word, every apology, every admittance of her mistakes was just as worthless as the rest of her.

So what was the point?

Her eyes stayed glued numbly to the floor in front of her while she waited for Hunter to start in on her.

She could shut down, she could tune it out.

Or at least she could pretend to.

But instead of it being Hunter that started to speak, it was Trevor.

“Yeah, really fecking pleasant, in’t it?”

Her numb gaze lifted from the floor to look over at him, her eyes blinking in surprise that he'd even have the balls to speak, before she realized that like... yeah, it wasn't even that surprising. Vocal confrontation seemed to kind of be his forte, at least when he was drunk.

Before she could respond (although, to be fair, in her current state there was no responding or getting involved), Trevor was pushing himself up from the ground. She started to reach a hand out to stop him from... whatever was going through his head, but her hand fell short and her hand fell limply against the cold tiles beside her.

His steps towards Hunter were wobbly, and she was worried that he might fall and hurt himself or something, but she didn't do anything. Her head fell back against the wall and she winced at the pain as her bleary-eyed gaze tried to focus on Trevor and his movements across the room.

“Is this coincidence?” he asked rhetorically. “Or do you really think showin’ yer idiotic face in front of the girl who you just made guzzle down half a bottle of vodka is a nice, neat extra little fuck you bow on top of the lovely gift of feckin’ mortal sufferin’ you’ve so benevolently bestowed upon her?”

What?

No.

Nononono.

That wasn't what--

Well that was what had happened, but it wasn't by any means Hunter's fault. The drinking, the coming here, all of that had been a response to her own mistakes. Hunter hadn't come into play until like... like... like two minutes before. Until like right before he'd stumbled his way through the door, and she wanted to say something. To speak up, make it clear that it wasn't his fault, because she didn't-- she didn't-- she didn't--

Her fucking head hurt and she didn't want Hunter to feel bad over something that wasn't his fault.

This wasn't his fault.

It was Callum's, but it wasn't even Callum's, because Callum hadn't handed her the bottle of vodka and told her to go drown herself. That had been her, and she just-- she just-- she didn't-- she didn't want anyone, anyone, being blamed for something that wasn't them, wasn't them.

Her thoughts were stuttering.

She placed the bottle of vodka on the tile beside her.

Trevor was still going off on Hunter.

“I’d suggest that ya came here because you were guilty or some shite like that, or outta consideration for Ash or somethin’ that showed any kinda character of any kinda sort, but— well, for one, I don’t think you’re capable of complex emotions, but two— you come in here like you’re king shit, walkin’ so casually to a desk after you sent a damn innocent girl into a spiral of self-guilt over fuckin’— I don’t give an elephant’s arsehole what the fuck it was over, and I don’t want to feckin’ know.”

"Trevor, stop..." she tried to speak, but her mouth was dry, and her voice was raspy, and her words were so soft-spoken that they barely even registered with her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Stop, stop, stop.

It wasn't Hunter's fault, she wanted to say. She wasn't mad at him, and she wanted to make that clear, but every movement felt like she was moving through thickening concrete. Her limbs felt heavy. Her words weren't strong enough to be carried over, or to stop Trevor in his tracks.

Reluctantly, her fingers released the vodka bottle beside her, and she placed her hands on the cold tiles on either side of her. Slowly, she started to push herself up with her back pressed tightly against the wall behind her for support. Her legs felt weak underneath her, as if they couldn't even hold up the weight of a feather, let alone the weight of her, and her knees felt as if they might buckle right under her weight. Her hands pressed against the wall, sliding along the cool surface as she tried to straighten herself up. The world was swimming around her, and she blinked her eyes rapidly a few times to try and clear the blurriness from the tears, and to try and stop the world from spinning.

She started to step away from the wall, her fingers still pressing against the wall.

Trevor grabbed the desk beside him and in one swift motion, he actually managed to flip it over.

The sound of the desk crashing into the floor caused her to flinch, her eyes squeezing shut, and she fell heavily back against the wall. The wind was knocked out of her lungs as she sank back down to the floor. Her hands were shaking as she drew her legs back towards her chest, her hand grabbing the familiar bottle of liquor, and she pressed it back against her chest. Her shaky arms wrapped around her legs, pulling them as close to her chest as she could, and she pressed her forehead against her knees, burying her face so she couldn't see. She couldn't hear. She couldn't.

Nothing.

There was nothing, nothing, nothing.

Her breathing was ragged and heavy, and the more that she tried to calm her breathing, the more labored it got, and the worse she felt, and the more she just wanted to stop, stop, stop.

He was still blaming Hunter for all... all of this, and the guilt that was clenching at her heart was threatening to stop it beating right there in her ribcage.

Not that she was complaining.

The barrage of insults being flung at Hunter from Trevor stopped.

At first, she didn't make any move. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps coming back towards her. Hesitantly, she started to lift her head, her eyes trailing up slowly to catch the sight of Trevor walking back towards her, although she made no move to release her legs, or try to stand, or anything of the sort. She just sat there, fingers digging into her legs, her eyes glued to his form.

Trevor held his hand out to her. “We’re goin’ now,” he said shortly, and her mouth ran dry.

She relaxed, her arms letting go of her legs. Ash passed the bottle to Trevor, her eyes shifting from him to momentarily catch on Hunter, but it kind of hurt to look at him right now, and she felt guilt when her gaze caught on him because she'd done nothing to try and stop Trevor, so her eyes fell to the ground.

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. Ash stumbled when she got her legs underneath her, and she reached a hand out to steady herself against the wall. Once she was steady, he handed the bottle back, and she grabbed it, letting it fall limply from the tips of her fingers to dangle beside her.

Her eyes flickered up as he spoke.

“Get all of yer stuff— I’ll take ya home.”

Wait, wait, wait. No no nono.

She couldn't go home, because like... Eli and Gen and Cap weren't there, and she wasn't sure when Eli and Gen's parents were getting home, but she was pretty sure it was soon, and if she showed up fucking wasted, like... like... like... no, no, no, no. She couldn't do that because what if it somehow got back to her parents, and then her mom pulled her from the school, and then she was sent to the dumb boarding school and--

And it just.

She couldn't.

She didn't say anything, though, instead she wordlessly walked -- or, rather, stumbled -- to the desk with her backpack. She leaned heavily against it, her fingers fumbling as she set it up right and slid the mostly empty bottle of vodka in. Her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration as she grabbed the zipper and managed to close it, and then she unsteadily pulled it over her back before glancing back at Trevor.

His hand was still held out to her to help her walk, and she took it, her fingers lacing through his as she stepped back over to him. Her steps, of course, were wobbly and she stumbled into Trevor's side before catching herself. She followed after him, her gaze on the ground in front of her feet -- partially because she was really having to concentrate on where her steps were going, but also to avoid glancing in Hunter's direction.

A "sorry" was dancing on the tip of her tongue, and part of her wanted to come to a stop so she could apologize to Hunter. So she could try and set things right, so she could try and spin everything around, and she could fix and like... like... keep at least one of her friendships intact tonight. But Trevor was still tugging her along, and it was taking too much of her focus to keep herself upright, and to keep the breath flowing through her lungs, so she... she didn't. She let the apology die on her tongue as she swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

Her grip tightened against Trevor's as they stepped out of the room and at the last moment, she did lift her gaze. She glanced from Trevor to look into the room at Hunter. Her gaze met his for a brief second and then--

“At least you were kind enough to leave the feckin’ door open— real nice’a ya,” Trevor snapped, and then he pulled the door shut with a slam that caused Ash to flinch.

She tore her gaze away from the door to look up at Trevor.

He smiled down at her, and she gave a cautious smile back.

"Well," he started, “Now that that’s over…let’s mosey our ways home, do ya say?”

Her lips parted to speak, but then all she could manage was to give a weak nod of her head before turning and starting to head down the hallway. Now that they were out of the safety of the classroom, though, and like... in a place that was literally crawling with their classmates and peers, Ash untangled her fingers from Trevor's hand and instead brought her hand to grab the strap of her backpack.

They walked for a few minutes in relative silence, Ash's fingers playing with the strap of her backpack, her eyes focused on the shaky ground in front of her feet.

"Hey," her voice was soft as she came to a halt and she reached out, her fingers brushing against Trevor's arm to stop him from moving. At first, she didn't speak, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, and she just looked up at Trevor, her words not wanting to come. And then she glanced down the hallway in both directions, saw no one coming, and took an unsteady step forward. Her hand lightly grabbed his arm to steady herself and then she leaned up, quickly kissed him on the cheek, and then fell back to her feet and took an unsteady step backwards.

"Thanks," she murmured, "for umm... for that, back there, I... just thanks."

There was more that she obviously wanted to say, but words weren't exactly coming to her at the moment, so she left them be. She figured it was implied -- or at least hoped it was -- the... thanks... for standing up for her, because there was no way she would've, even if he was like... attacking the wrong person. It was still appreciated.

She started walking again, her gaze going to the floor in front of her feet once more.

"Can you like... drive?" She asked. "Where are we... like, where are.. uhh... where're we going? 'Cause I can just like, I can find a ummm... a different classroom to try and sleep in or, like, whatever. I can't-- I don't... like... want to go back to the mansion, because I ahh... Eli and Gen's parents are gonna be there, I think, and I don't... well, you know, I don't wanna... show up... like... this."

She left out the rest of her fears -- the whole her mom finding out and then all of the things that would happen if that were to happen. And yeah, she realized to some extent that the catastrophic fall of events that she was predicting would happen wasn't at all how it would work out. She knew that she was overthinking it all, but it wasn't like that knowledge just... just... made the fear of it all just dissipate.

"I don't want to like... like..." her eyes squeezed shut for a moment as the world around her felt like it was spinning, and then she blinked them open after a few seconds, and she continued to speak. "Be a burden... you know? Like, I want you to umm... enjoy... lock-in, if you can, and like... I'll be fine. I can just... find a classroom or umm... call Eli or Cap or Gen or som-- well, I guess just them, but like... you don't have to babysit me."

God, Ash was pretty sure that she was starting to ramble, so she stopped herself there. She bit her tongue -- like, literally, her teeth bit into her tongue to stop herself from continuing to spew absolute nonsense. Because like, he could've walked away at any point, and he hadn't. But also she had pretty much already ruined his entire night, so it wasn't like dropping her here would turn that all around or anything.

Add that to the ever-growing list of things that she was feeling intense guilt over.

mood
.......

location
the classroom

outfit
idk a hoodie and jeans

playing...
Gasoline

by Alice Lee​

mentions
Hunter, Eli

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

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  parking lot of HA
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  tilly ( natsukashii ) saint ( ohdittoh ) eli ( geminiy )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

josephine bennett

the wild card ~ 17 ~ junior

“I was just going out to my vehicle; I forgot my charger…and my phone is almost dead…but I was working on my project.”

His project? Oh, right. The cow.

Josie recalled the discussion from their last encounter when he had given her a ride back to her place. She'd asked him about his what he planned on doing for the Arts Fest and he'd gone on and on about how it was a sort of "back to his roots" thing. She thought it was a really cool idea being that it was his senior year and why not end it on a high note. It felt fitting and honestly, she was actually excited to see the final product especially because she knew how much he put into it.

Jo had been fascinated by his art since the first day she'd met him, even before she knew the work belonged to him. There were a lot of painters and photographers at HA but glass blowing was unique and she was intrigued by how it worked. When they were together she had told him that one day she wanted him to teach her how to do it, just for the experience of it if nothing else; to say she'd tried it. Trying new things had always been another thing Jo enjoyed.

"Ooo, are you gonna name it? You should. I like the name LuLu! I had a puppy named LuLu once but she ran away. What about Jojo? Wait, don't name her after me. Uhhh, oh! Milkshake! Because of cows and milk? Get it? That would be so cute," Jo suggested the names with excitement though she doubted he would actually take any of them. Even if he didn't she was still going to call his cow Milkshake so it didn't matter.

“You mentioned skinny-dipping…any other plans, or is tonight one of Josephine’s ‘wild card’ nights…?” he asked, though he seemed to know already. “I can guess the answer to that, actually.” he added, accompanied by what she could've sworn was a brief but amused grin.

He wasn't wrong though, Josie had so many ideas swirling around in her head but no idea which to start with. Skinny dipping, pulling a few pranks on teacher's desks, raiding the kitchen and having a mini-cook off, breaking into one of the dressing rooms and trying on the costumes, she had even brought water balloons though she had no idea exactly what for yet. Clearly, Saint knew her well enough to know that nothing was ever concrete when it came to Josie. Keeping a night unpredictable was her specialty after all.

A bright smile painted itself across her face at the thought of all the things they had in store for the night. "Hey! My wildcard nights are world-famous for being a blast! I've never had any of my customers complain so that's a plus, right? I have a money-back guarantee," she joked, a laughed escaping. His next words caused her eyes to light up just a little bit more. "You should! I mean, Tilly and I don't mind. The more the merrier, right?" she looked over at the girl standing beside her. "What do you say?" she asked, the smile still on her face.

Before she could get a response they were being joined by another familiar face though and her eyes flicked over to see Eli. "Eli! Hey! Three is a crowd but four is a party! Wanna hang with us? We are gonna break into the pool and skinny dip, it'll be fun!" she didn't even hesitate to let the invitation spill out of her mouth as soon as he came to a halt in front of them.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

(Click here for some lovely ambience as you read.)

If it wasn’t glaringly obvious by now, Lin said and did pretty much everything he thought of, point-blank-and-period. He didn’t know, luhmao— it got eyes on him, and it got people to react, which was what he really wanted to achieve by what he was doing. Ya know, knowing that, it was probably nice to know that Lin was joking a majority of the time— it was just people’s reactions that made him go through with things, luhmao.

It was like…uh…how could he explain it?

Ya know, when you saw a, like, red-hot stove when you were a baby, and your mom or your dad said “hey, don’t touch it”, but like, psst, now that they said not to, when you look at it a second time, it looks so much better? Yeah, that was Lin with pretty much everything he said that people were like “are you serious?” or “that’s a terrible idea” about. Like, bitch? That’s a fucking challenge if he’s ever heard one, ya know?

Either that, or someone’d be like “ayo we should do that together” when Lin said something— ‘cuz Lin couldn’t just be like “nahhh luhmao I was kidding”, ‘cuz then he’d look pussy, and he wasn’t a pussy, ya know?

Both of those went to give him his reputation of seeming like he’s joking but being serious all of the time, which, ya know, wasn’t the case from the start a lot of the times— it just became the case, so it seemed that way, luhmao.

All of this went to say that his comment about the good ol’ teacup fuck was, uh, mostly a joke. Like, yeah, he thought fucking on a teacup— or on any amusement park ride— would be hella sick. Like, who fucked on a teacup? The real ones, that was who.

But Charlie’d voiced her aversion to it before, so he expected her to be all “ewwww you’re kidding” and then he’d kid back like “hell no I’m not let’s fuck” (‘cept she wouldn’t know he was kidding) and she’d be all like “no Big Man” and he’d be all like “Big Man ” (‘cuz dick joke) and she’d be all like “shut up” and he’d be all like “ess-em-aych fine speak now or forever hold your peace” and she’d be like “yeah I’m good” and then they’d leave and maybe make out somewhere outside, luhmao.

He could kinda picture it all in his head, ya know, luhmao.

He should’ve known better than to try and predict Charlie Howell.

“What about the teacup?” Charlie asked. “The thing isn’t attached to anything, spinning the wheel won’t…”

Lin bounced his eyebrows, tugging one corner of his crooked grin up into a teasing smirk.

Her face fell, and he cackled. “Whaaaat, whaaat?” he asked.

“Liiiiiin,” she groaned. He could hear her holding back laughter, which made him laugh again. “We’ve been over this. I’m not…”

“You’re noooot…?” he repeated, prompting her to continue with a little wiggle of his head.

“Okay so technically speaking I said I wouldn’t get with you on the ferris wheel but I’m fairly certain the same rule applies to all festival equipment. Sorry,” she said.

Lin laughed for a second before he realized that the “sorry” wasn’t a “sorry luhmao” kinda thing— she was actually sorry.

She moved back, and Lin frowned slightly. “Something wrong?” he asked.

Her eyes looked around at the teacup, and she went quiet for a long time.

Lin slowly grinned, opening his mouth to talk again and say something along the lines of “aight bet we don’t have to or anything”, ‘cuz they didn’t have to, ya know, and it really looked like Charlie didn’t want to, and he’d meant it as a joke in the first place, luhmao.

But then, Charlie sighed, and she grabbed him and pulled him in. He let out a soft song of surprise as she moved him so that—

Ope, ope, ope.

Uh.

Uh.

She was underneath him now— like fucking laying beneath him.

His face heating up hotter than that stove he used to touch all the time when he was a baby, Lin breathed a “hhhhhhhh” before Charlie muted him with her lips.

Uh.

UH.

UH.

He felt his heart hitch in his throat, his whole body warming now.

He was above her. Her hands were in his hair. They were kissing.

In a teacup.

Uh.

He—

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

He was taken aback, his brain sending him static as his pulse kicked into overdrive. Slowly, he kissed back, and then Charlie moved her lips away and spoke.

“But things did sorta get ruined for us on Halloween night and I mean we were just having a really great time…,” she said, seeming to be thinking aloud.

“Huh?” Lin asked. “I— you. You— me— are?”

He couldn’t find his words again.

Charlie had that way about her in their intimate moments— of making him, Lin, the life of the party, Lindsay Kay, the guy with something to always say— be totally unable to form comprehensible sentences.

But—

But was she—

Was she—

Did she—

Was she serious?

"If I hear one thing about me losing some stupid bet about not fucking you on fair equipment, I’m breaking up with you,” Charlie laughed. “But if you’re sure this is what you want…”

HO-LEE.

MO-THER .

FUD-GING.

FLIP-PING.

FUCK-ING.

MON-KEY-BALLS.

A laugh bubbled out of Lin, giddy and pleasantly-surprised. “Are you saying what I— are we?”

Are we gonna fuck in this teacup?

A sudden nervousness overcame him, and he felt his arms growing shaky.

No.

Way.

Lin’d never done anything like this before.

Remember how he said that he was mostly kidding about the teacup fuck? Emphasis on that mostly— ‘cuz he really did wanna.

It was a fucking dream.

There was no way.

Lin was going to lose his virginity in a teacup.

Lin managed to breathe a couple of stunned, nervous words beneath his breath: “We fuckin’-fuckin’?”

“Fuck it,” Charlie said, not seeming to catch his words. “TCF it is.”

And she pressed her lips to his.

Oh, they were fuckin’ fuckin’.

Lin didn’t know how to move, what to do, where to put his hands, what to say or think or anything like that. Spontaneity was Lin’s middle name.

He hoped that “Bad Sex” wasn't his other two middle names.

He felt somewhat awkward, kissing her, touching her where he’d only really dreamed about.

He was so fucking worried he was gonna mess this up— but he was gonna do his damn best.

Duh.

When did Lin ever do worse than his fucking best?

• dreams do come true— for crack kid, anyway •​

Imagine a loaf of bread.

Now imagine a lifetime supply of Hostess Twinkies.

Now imagine that you won a million dollars in pretzel twists.

You got those images?

Well, Lin had some news— the TCF was somehow even better than all of that shit combined.

Yeah, sure, he was probably going to have a bruise on his forehead and his elbows for all of his clumsy, nervous knocking about. He was more careful than he’d ever really been with anything, and he had to keep asking if he was doing this or that right.

But he’d just…like…he didn’t know how to say it.

That? Doing that? It made…sense. In like— in like, a fucking perfect way.

Y’know, how their lips moved together. How their bodies moved together.

It was— it was like everything else in their relationship: effortless.

There was no Zeph to coach him on in his ear as he’d kidded he’d need during his first time. There was no earpiece calling commands to him.

Nah, none of that. It was just Charlie and virgin Lin and now-not-a-virgin Lin and Charlie, having sex in a forgotten teacup, maybe even the same one that they’d been in on the fair day, when it all kinda started, and the noises they made were the only things in the air, and the feelings that he felt were never more intense.

He’d thought he was happy before, but now that he was running a hand through his nearly-soaking-wet hair, he realized that this was real happiness.

It wasn’t just that the sex was sex, that it felt good, and that he was no longer a virgin— ‘cuz duh on those things, but they felt super shallow, y’know?

No, he was…beyond-happy-happy because he and Charlie…he didn’t know.

He’d just never felt any closer to a person than he did now.

He felt his cheeks tinging pink again as he thought about it, and then he cleared his throat, smiling at his girlfriend. Warmth blossomed through his chest as he studied her.

This was…perfect. She was something straight out of a dream, and now…

Now he felt like she was really, y’know…his.

Blegh. So cheesy, luhmao.

They sat for a few, long moments that crawled into God-knew-how-long. It kinda felt like a long time, but it also didn't. The virtual silence they sat in, only interrupted by their breathing for the longest time, was comfortable and warm, like a hug. Lin had one hand interlaced with Charlie's and was playing with their fingers in a subdued manner.

And then, finally, Lin felt the need to talk, because if he didn't do it now, he'd probably sit here until next week rolled around, luhmao.

“I’unno what comes next,” Lin admitted in a murmur— which was rare, ya know, since he never admitted that he didn’t know anything. He gave a soft chuckle, leaning over and pecking her on her forehead. “But good game,” he laughed, holding up his fist for a fist bump. “Thirteen out of nine-point-seven-five, will smash again.” He moved his other hand from around her to hold an invisible microphone up to his mouth. “Now, let’s hear what the others think about it.”

He unlaced their hands and reached over the grab her dress, which somehow had landed on the rim of the teacup when they’d discarded their clothes. Laughing mischievously, he stuck his head through the head hole, worked so that the top of the dress was just at his hairline, and then tossed it back so that it was like he was wearing it as a wig. He grinned over at her, laughing again. He heightened his groggy voice and held up the invisible microphone to his mouth again. “Hi, yeah, this is Linda. Seven out of three stars. Back to you, Lin.”

Chuckling quietly, Lin puled the dress from his head and handed it to Charlie. “Thanks, Linda,” he said, speaking back to his dress-headed persona before dissolving into quiet laughter. Then, he looked over at Charlie.

For a second, he was enamored with the sight of her.

People had a lot of skin, luhmao.

And all of Charlie’s was fucking hot.

“And, uh, thanks, Charlie,” he said. “I lo—“

I love you, he was gonna say, but then he realized that he really didn’t know that yet, ‘cuz he didn’t really know what love was.

So he just dropped it. When he knew what love was, he’d pick that sentence back up again.

He shook his head, laughing softly as he looked around for his pants, jacket, and shirt. “Youuuu ate your words,” he teased Charlie in a singsong voice as he searched, “you little squishy softiiiie. Where do we head next?”

Yes, even after that, Lin was ready to get moving again.

mood


location
a storage building

outfit
lookin fly as always

playing...
all i do is win

by dj khaled​

mentions
zeph

interactions
charlie

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Ezra Gray

@EZGoing has set their status to:
keep it simple

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
classy & casual

@EZGoing has set their location to:
heading out of the school

@EZGoing has mentioned:
n/a

@EZGoing has interacted with:
Tori, Beth, Spencer

@EZGoing has tagged:
ohdittoh Winona Xed

Ezra looked between the two girls in front of him and then to his brother, trying to read the mildly awkward room as best as he could. Were things always this tense in Los Angeles? God, he certainly hoped not. Things seemed okay and Victoria seemed happy enough to see them, though the unexpected time apart seemed to add a layer of discomfort over the group.

“Ever the charmer,” Victoria said in response to Ezra’s comment about her beauty which, in no capacity, had been an understatement. “But the same to you. You’re all grown up. Last time I saw you, you were just a widdle sophomore. Emphasis on widdle, especially for Junior over there.”

Ah yes, flirtation at it’s finest: calling a guy short. Hold on, Ezra was practically buckling at the knees with such provocative gestures.

Carefully glazing over what could have been Victoria’s attempt to flirt, Ezra wrapped one arm around Spencer’s shoulder while the other hand playfully ruffled his hair. “Yeah, we get that a lot from people who knew us when we were younger,” he confirmed, loosening his grip around Spencer’s torso. “Unfortunately for Spence, I don’t think he ever got the memo. He’s still so itty bitty.” Ezra teased, reaching a hand out to teasingly pinch Spencer’s cheek.

With introductions out of the way, Beth confirming that she was in fact Sterling Junior, Ezra began making a game plan. He was a boy of calculations, no movement or phrase dropped without prior consideration to the outcomes and consequences. So, while Victoria explained the circumstances around their meeting, Ezra thought. Beth couldn’t look any more bored and Spencer couldn’t do any worse of a job of hiding the fact that he was out of his element. He needed to get them alone to do whatever the hell they were going to do.

“It’s been so long!” Victoria spoke, her voice breaking Ezra out of his thoughts. “Seriously, how have you two been? You just…dropped off the face of the earth! I didn’t think that I’d ever see you again! I didn’t even get to ask for your numbers last time— that was a total crime.”

Dropping off the face of the Earth, how absolutely enticing of a thought. Of course, the true reason behind their sudden departure was nothing so fanciful. Still, the mention of the past caused Ezra’s spine to stiffen slightly, a discreet look shot over to Spencer in a warning not to say what really happened. After all, it was no one’s business but theirs.

"It has, luckily for us it seems we made a good enough first impression the first time around since you remembered us after all this time and wanted to ask for our numbers back then."

Ezra let out a small breath at Spencer’s cover, his words quickly changing the subject from them and back to Victoria. Ezra couldn’t help but smile slightly, the right corner of his lips tugging upward into a smirk. That was a proud brother moment, Spencer had done well.

“Dear Spencer, do you have a thing for Nineteen over here?” Ezra questioned in a sing-song tone, throwing a wink in Tori’s direction. “Heartbreaking, honestly, but good for entertainment. I mean what could be better than a love struck teenager swooning for the older girl only to be parted by the sea and time. How very romantic.”

Ezra stepped away from Spencer to lean against the wall beside him, hands finding their way casually into the back pockets of his jeans. For a moment, he simply observed the people in front of him. The longer they talked the more comfortable everyone seemed, with the exception of Beth who still seemed incredibly bored by the whole situation. She clearly needed an out of the conversation and Spencer likely needed a push to get himself out there.

“What can I say? Twenty Nine is clearly a lucky number for me, since it brought me back here. I’ll even make the call…” Ezra’s voice drifted off as he patted the pocket that his phone should have been in. There was the out he had been looking for. “Hey, Nineteen, would you care to accompany me back to my car? I think I forgot my phone and the walk is quite lonely in the dark.” Ezra extended his bent arm to Victoria with a bow of his head. “Shall we?”

Ezra gave a quick glance over his shoulder to Spencer, looking at him just long enough to convey his message: ‘you’re welcome, little brother’.

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