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

[hery]

MOOD: sooo social and we love it for him

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Javi, Lydia

INT:
jasmyn (Maddie)
natsukashii (Corey)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Angel Cervantes

In the past couple weeks, Angel had slowly come to a rather jarring realization: he was a controversial, almost polarizing figure. It seemed that everybody he'd become acquainted with in his life was either extremely nice to him or set out to topple his self-esteem just for the hell of it. He knew being a total loser at Hollywood Arts couldn't be helped by his junior year, but for it to get worse? How was that possible?

He'd spent nearly all of his time since the Lock-in retreating into his art, taking solace in the fact that, while every day couldn't be trusted to be kind to poor Angel, he could always rely on his never-ending inspiration to provide comfort. His recent focus was the series of portraits for his Arts Fest project, which only sucked when he was required to actually interact with other people for the sake of references.

Lydia was good for that kind of stuff. She talked to people, like, all the time, and didn't seem to get tired of it. Without her support the past weekend at his November Comic Con art booth, he'd have probably hidden under the table and waited for everybody to leave. As proud as he was to show off his dorky art to all of the convention's costumed patrons, it was humiliating sitting there not knowing to do while being showered with praise for his work. He always downplayed his efforts, but the truth was that he'd spent hours of time researching the most specific of facts for his Comic Con art pieces, like Catwoman's favorite perfume and Predator's bust size.

So, as per usual, roaming the halls at school in the morning was as dreadful an experience as ever. People were so loud. They liked to shove a lot, too, and it baffled Angel how not everyone had the same compulsive need as himself to apologize whenever they so much as glanced at him in a potentially rude way.

Craving a bag of chips, the reserved boy located the school's nearest vending machine, halting right ahead of the bulky box of sweet and savory goods. After a healthy four minutes of deliberation and spacing out, he settled on sour cream and onion potato chips, which he always ended up picking anyway.

He reached into his backpack, then fished out his stylish R2-D2 wallet, fumbling with it while he tried his hardest to tug a five from its iron grip. His clumsy fingers nearly dropped the wallet twice, which would have only been a minor hindrance had all of the bills inside not been packed so tightly that it took ages just to pull one out. He focused intently, hunching over as he wrestled with the wallet for the cash vending machine looming over so greedily demanded.

"Angel, hey! Fancy running into you here," a voice rose above the crowded hall's disarrayed noise. The boy was far too intent on retrieving his bill to realize someone was addressing him, so he continued on until finally squeezing the five from his wallet's grasp. He slipped it in the machine, mumbling cheers of triumph under his breath.

"You waiting on someone?" the voice pressed, sending Angel a jolt of surprise. He jumped, then whipped around to face Maddie and Corey. Red flooded into the boy's cheeks as he registered his embarrassment.

"Oh!" he yipped, letting out an ashamed chuckle, "Hey, Maddie. Sorry, I didn't realize, uh..." He looked around once more, just to be sure. "Didn't realize you were talking to me." He forced a smile, despite the crushing embarrassment entombing his brain. He offered Corey a small wave, having only been somewhat acquainted with the friendly senior.

"Just waiting on chips." He turned around, nearly forgetting to grab the bag of chips he'd come there for in the first place. He inspected the bag in his hands, frowning once he realized they weren't the chips he'd purchased, unless he pressed the wrong button by accident. He could settle for barbecue, but... it just wasn't the same. He turned back and looked at the sour cream and onion chips wistfully, telepathically promising them a good home some other day.

Once the attainment of chips was settled, he stepped out of the way of the vending machine. "Sorry to get in your way," he apologized, suspecting the pair had been waiting a long while as he struggled to grab his cash, decide on chips, and mentally process the awkward start to this social interaction. He unwittingly looked each of them up and down, dubious thoughts popping into his head.

Are they a couple...?

He tensed a little, fearing the worst of Javier's wrath. Talking to Maddie never felt weird or anything considering they'd forged a polite friendship at school before any of the drama went down between her and his brother. Still, he couldn't deny the thoughts lingering in the back of his mind questioning what the girl thought of her crazy ex-friend's little brother. Were they even allowed to stay friends? That had to be violating some kind of moral code, especially given all the tension as of recent. The thought of avoiding Maddie broke Angel's heart a little, so he allowed himself some self-indulgent leeway in his regard for his older brother's feelings.

"Are you guys together?" he queried, making his best attempt at conversation. His eyes widened, and he immediately corrected himself. "Like, a couple—I mean, pair—for the Arts Fest? I heard a lot of friends are doing their projects together this year." He covertly pocketed the chips, still somewhat bummed about missing out on his preferred flavor. He then cleared his throat, which always helped to alleviate the fog of awkwardness that clouded his mind when he'd stuck his foot in his mouth.

"I'm doing my thing alone. It's uh... a lot of work gathering subjects for portraits. Feels like way too much talking to people for a solo project!" The artist laughed to himself, pretending he wasn't mentally replaying the awkward slipup he'd just uttered over and over in his head.

code by valen t.

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan​

Nate let out a snort of laughter, and Trevor discreetly flipped him off to the other side of his thigh. Trevor Callaghan might have complained often about his relationship — he complained often about everything — but that didn’t mean that it was anything to laugh at, nor did that mean that his claim that his relationship was going even smoother than Nate’s was something to laugh at.

Did he envy Nate for just smoking and fucking? Yeah, that sounded like a fecking dream — but his…his was going…great.

When you looked past what’d happened this morning and Halloween, it really was.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Nate said, breathing in from the joint.

“You think I’m kidding?” Trevor huffed, pushing his middle finger further up to the side of his thigh. “My relationship is fecking wonderful.” Trevor noticed Nate moving closer towards the inside of the vehicle, and his eyebrows pushed low. His glare grew confused. “The hell are you…”

Nate made a shooing motion with his hand.

“What, you want me to leave? Are you trying to run off with…” But then he realized: Nate was asking him to scoot over.

He stared at Nate for a moment. “You want in Rachel?” He paused a beat to stare at Nate in dumbfounded ness, then he flopped his wrist dismissively. “I don’t let people who slander her or my name in my vehicle, thank ya very much.”

In spite of what he was saying, he scooted over for him, allowing him to take his spot inside the minivan’s second row of seats.

He glared at Nate’s shoes as he stepped inside. He was going to track mud or sand or leaves or something in. Trevor averted his eyes, but out of sight, out of mind didn’t work for that kind of obsession he had, so his chest squeezed anxiously. He let out a long, dramatic sigh, and he looked over to Nate, who was sitting in such an awkward way that he had somehow managed to make himself cramped and uncomfortable. “The driver’s seat’s all the way forward and you’re shorter than me,” Trevor grunted. “Sit like a normal person and you won’t be uncomfortable.”

(He was especially bossy inside of his van. You could say it brought out the soccer mom or the vacationing dad in him.)

Trevor leaned over the center console to move the passenger seat forward as Nate exhaled a cloud of smoke into the interior of the van. “Listen, no way you’re happier than me and Evie — the real new It Couple.” (“Shite! Ow, ow,” Trevor hissed beneath his breath as he pinched his hand with the seat adjuster.) “Our relationship? Perfect.”

Trevor managed to move the passenger seat all the way forward, and then he flopped back onto the second row, crossing his ankles and taking the joint from Nate. As he breathed in from the object, his brows knit together in offense. He breathed out the smoke. “Yes way, we are. Our relationship is also perfect.” Trevor was lying out of his arse, but Nate couldn’t have this victory.

Nate held up a hand and started to count the reasons that his relationship was so superior on his hand. “Always got each other’s backs, never fight, bond over fucking with people on Twitter—“ Trevor knew that meant him, so he let out a huff. “— she calls me hot for threatening to fight people that piss her off, uh…oh, hangout all the time and never run outta shit to talk about or do. And don’t have to deal with any ‘pissin’ contests’ ‘cause the only one that really wants to fuck her is Gen, and I’m not all that threatened by her. At lock-in, she was fucking upset over Gen and Landon. So we went to the roof to smoke weed and I let her vent to me about all of it, and then afterwards? Rooftop sex.”

Trevor grunted, crossing one arm across his chest as he took another drag from the joint. That sounded like bullshite, or some kind of exaggeration. Anytime anyone talked about a perfect relationship, they had to be lying. Nothing was fecking that perfect. Nate had to be blowing smoke, in a figurative sense. He held the joint out to him, releasing his breath.

“Well, Ash and I—“ Trevor started defensively, but then he stopped himself. What could he say that compared…? “We also fucked lock-in.” Take that. “Also, it was raining outside earlier that night. I’m sure it smelled like shite out there when you two were getting down. And Ash and I bond, too. Over…”

Well, shite…

Over what?

Crockpots? No, she hated crockpots. Frog stories? Pretty sure she paid no attention to Ashley Tisdale’s escapade. Salman Sean? …okay, she seemed to remember that one, but…

Trevor was fresh out of ideas. Yeah, he really wasn’t bonded with his girlfriend.

So, to poke holes in Nate’s narrative, Trevor chose to say (probably the worst thing): “Besides, I’m sure that someone else wants to fuck Evie.”

Nate let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Listen, kid, listen…it’s real cute that you think you're happy, even happier than me, but I'm gonna have to disagree. No other relationships at this school have anything on me and Evie, least of all some childish relationship like yours."

“Childish?” Trevor repeated, aghast and offended. “My relationship is not childish. We — it’s…mature…?” Was that a good descriptor. “I’m — Ash’s great. I’m great. We’re great. Together. We…’ve gone out on a couple of dates. One was to Walmart.” And then he realized that that really wasn’t a flex, so he frustratedly ran a hand through his hair. “And — and we’ve…hung out a lot, too. And, yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Like you said with Evie, there’s never a time when we run out of things to talk about.” That was a lie — there was never a time where Trevor ran out of things to talk about. “And there’s no kind of bonding quite like…uh…comforting her while she’s drunk in the floor of a science room and spitting on a sophomore’s face for making her cry?”

(Way to sound sure of yourself there, Sean.)

“Point is…we’re, uh…happy and grand and your points can all be applied to my relationship,” he finished proudly, as if he hadn’t just spoken so uncertainly about his relationship.. “Therefore, our relationships are either on equal levels or mine is above yours in terms of the satisfaction rating.”

mood


location
rachel

outfit
something casual

playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall

by glaive​

mentions
ash, gen, & evie

interactions
nate

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders

Casual conversation? Junk food? Video games? This was heaven on earth if Ava had ever experienced it, and she was more than just content. She was super content.

Yeah.

As the game started up and they started in on the first boss, a lot of what Amy had said didn't quite translate through to Ava right away. Sure, she could easily multitask normally, but when it came to games such as stupid Cuphead, she'd find herself almost too focused to pay attention to the conversation. So she had to actively remind herself that she was hanging out with someone, not playing alone in the safety of her bedroom, so conversation was expected.

"Tour?" Ava echoed. Look, she didn't listen to much about what happened in the other departments -- fuck, Ava hardly had any idea what the fuck was going on in the lit department half the time. She took a moment to glance over at Amy and, in that moment, she managed to get hit by the boss and die. She let out a string of cusses hissed under her breath as she settled back into the rhythm, and then she was able to pick up from the question she'd asked.

"You music students get a tour?" She asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise as she gave a little nod of her head. "Well, not hard to tell who the school's favorite department is." Ava added dryly -- she was joking, mind you, although it would make sense or some shit. The management company that ran the school or whatever had started out with music, hadn't it? So it would make sense that music students were favored.

"I dunno. I don't really listen to a lotta of the music you guys put out, but ahh..." Ava gave a shrug. As the level came to an end, she rubbed at the back of her neck with one hand before picking up her can of pop. "I dunno, I'd be surprised if you didn't get on the tour or whatever. You're really, really fucking good." She explained, which she figured that Amy already knew, before she took a sip from the can of pop before setting it back down.

Another level started up, and she focused in for a moment again. Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth, her eyes squinting together, until she fell into some kind of rhythm. That was really the key to winning this game -- figure out the attack pattern, and then settle into a rhythm.

She relaxed after she had found said rhythm.

"Get yourself together...? Like career wise?"

mood
gaming mode activated

location
cafeteria

outfit
oh damn, no sweats, special day

playing...
i wanna be your girlfriend

by girl in red​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Amy

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Nathan Woods

Trevor's bossiness was really starting to piss him off, especially coupled with the other shit that had already assisted in making his tolerance for the skinny loser's bullshittery very... very low.

Nag, nag, nag, about this or that regarding his fucking van. And yeah, Nate was fucking uncomfortable, because Trevor was failing to realize that even if they were nearly the same height, Nate was easily twice the size and it was oddly uncomfortable to be squished into the backseat of a van when you were large.

Also, Trevor sounded a lot like his mom.

Nate hated his mom.

"You're annoying," he stated simply as he reached down to find the pully switchy thingy that moved the seat so that it was laying back a bit more. So he wasn't sitting up all rigid and boring and shit. With his back now reclined, it was obviously a bit uncomfortable, and Nate was still annoyed with Trevor, so he kicked his feet up on the center console but -- woops -- as he was lifting his feet, oh no! His shoes brushed against the back of the driver's seat, leaving a smear of dirt in the otherwise disturbingly pristine van. Oh no. What a fucking shame.

Nate acted as if he hadn't noticed, and as if it hadn't been on purpose.

As Trevor started trying to argue against Nate once again, he held out the joint. Nate took a hit from it, exhaling as he listened as Trevor seemed to be grasping at mere straws. Tsk tsk. What a shame. Poor little dude really thought that he could begin to compare to Nate and Evie's relationship? Pfft.

“Well, Ash and I—“ Trevor started, but almost immediately stopped, and Nate's lips curled back into an amused grin. “We also fucked lock-in. Also, it was raining outside earlier that night. I’m sure it smelled like shite out there when you two were getting down. And Ash and I bond, too. Over…”

Nate rolled his eyes. Weak.

And then instead of finishing that thought, Trevor decided to say something that really did almost edge its way underneath Nate's thick skin.

“Besides, I’m sure that someone else wants to fuck Evie.”

Obviously, Trevor had a death wish.

"Yeah, Gen, and I'd fucking love to see that." Nate responded casually as he took another hit from the joint -- he really needed it this time -- and then kept speaking. "And probably you, Spank Bank. Don't really care as long as they keep it to themselves. Tell me... how many guys wanna fuck your girlfriend and don't beat around the bush about it...? Bet she's hanging with some guy right now that's flirting with her. Can't say I blame them. She's hot as fuck, even if she's kind of a bitch."

Take that, little fuck.

Nate kept an amused smile on his face, although now it was more smug than anything. He took one last hit from the joint, exhaling it slowly in Trevor's direction.

“Childish?” Trevor repeated. “My relationship is not childish. We — it’s…mature…?” Was that a good descriptor. “I’m — Ash’s great. I’m great. We’re great. Together. We…’ve gone out on a couple of dates. One was to Walmart. And — and we’ve…hung out a lot, too. And, yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Like you said with Evie, there’s never a time when we run out of things to talk about. And there’s no kind of bonding quite like…uh…comforting her while she’s drunk in the floor of a science room and spitting on a sophomore’s face for making her cry?”

He snorted. "Walmart? Oh yeah, you're right." He said with another sarcastic snort of laughter. "You win, sorry I ever doubted you and your relationship."

Fucking Walmart. How lame.

“Point is…we’re, uh…happy and grand and your points can all be applied to my relationship,” he finished. “Therefore, our relationships are either on equal levels or mine is above yours in terms of the satisfaction rating.”

"Right," Nate agreed sarcastically as he held the joint back out to Trevor. "Nothing says satisfaction like taking a chick to fucking Walmart. Why the fuck is she even with you?" He didn't quite realize how rude of a question this might come across as, so Nate continued on, breezing right past it.

"We went on a date to the art museum. That's called an actual date. A date to Walmart is what middle-aged couples do 'cause they got a babysitter for two hours and don't have time to grocery shop any other day. Doesn't exactly scream perfect to me. Tell me, you get her some of those cheap ass plastic roses, too? Call that a fucking date?"

Nate let out another snort of laughter at his oh so obviously funny joke.

"You've been dating for, what, you said since fair? And it sounds like you two have less fun than... I can't even think of another couple that would be more miserable and sucking at this dating thing than you." He crossed his arms over his broad chest, chuckling and shaking his head.

"Listen, I don't even know what else to say about my relationship, 'cause at this point I almost feel bad for rubbing it in your face just how great me and Evie are."

mood
weeeeed

location
parking lot

outfit
omg clothes

playing...
Ho Hey

by The Lumineers​

mentions
Evie

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

So maybe sharing your feelings didn’t always end in disaster. Or maybe misery loved company and they just happened to be two people that could slightly relate to the pressures and stresses that being a student at Hollywood Arts could take on a person.

He didn’t have the answers.

For someone that thought he had all the answers, it was fucking frustrating. Almost unbearable, but you pushed through. “Oh my god, that’s so sweet.” Her words pulled him from his train of thought. He huffed a small laugh as he looked up at her. “Don’t get used to it. It’s the vodka talking.” He said with a small wink as he looked away.

He’d be happy spending the rest of the day here, but problems didn’t work that way. Responsibilities didn’t work that way and Josie Bennett didn’t work that way. He’d promised her his company along with vodka and weed.

Because vodka and weed was going to make up for his betrayal. It was hard for him to even think of the words. What he’d done was unforgivable. Not that he cared…cause that was his MO, right? Keep your connections low. But asking himself why he felt so much guilt would only lead to bigger problems.

It was always best to not care.

Ash shuffled a bit. Guess play time was over. “C’mon, rehearsal’s almost over, and like, I’m not about to miss class.” He smirked as he took her hand and stood up. His eyes caught hers. Guess her responsibility kicked in. It was probably for the best. The more alcohol they consumed, the more trouble he wound up getting himself into.

He placed the bottle of vodka in his bag. Josie would kill him if he forgot. He took a deep breath before he led Ash down to the main floor. “Alright, so…today’s practice was, like, a total bust, so…like, tonight.” He stood at attention and saluted her. “Aye, boss. My place.” A smirk formed. “Nonstop practice or whatever until we sound like…really, really good.” He rolled his eyes. “We already sound amazing, but I promise. No distractions.”

It wasn’t like they never rehearsed. He wasn’t lying when he said that Ash had been somewhat of a tyrant…in the least tyrant-y way, but still. She was dedicated and so was he. And they sounded great. Not necessarily his style but the audience was going to love it.

“Thanks, though,” he looked over at her and smiled. Always thanking him for hanging out like it was some chore. Something someone wouldn’t do unless they were forced to. “I kinda, like…I kinda had a really good time with you, like it was fun, so…” his smile tightened. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m always a good time.” He said as gave him a quick hug. “Yeah…I’ll see you later.” He nodded as he backpeddled down the hall. “For work…definitely not more vodka.” He smirked as he disappeared into the crowd.

Back to reality.

He pulled his phone out. It was a mistake. It was always a mistake. Nothing good ever came from Twitter and for someone who had very little success and wasn’t even a blip on the radar, Lucky was a popular topic of discussion. Yeah, you could blame him for getting involved, but the world (aka HA) just found out his mom was dead…so maybe cut him some fucking slack.

He was pissed. Mags didn’t mean it. He knew that. And that jackass that wouldn’t last a week (and little did we know the rper would not last twelve hours), was just a piece of shit. He knew all of these things, but it didn’t make him feel any better. It didn’t subside the rage boiling inside him. He didn’t want people to know because people would pity him. They’d look at him differently. You could tell him he’s wrong, but the influx of DMs checking on him only proved his point.

He wasn’t drunk enough for this. He took a deep breath as he assured Mags, Dorian and Ash that he was okay. Not really paying any attention to his surroundings, he felt another body crash into his. His hands gripped the other person, steadying them both. “Sor—“ he registered who it was.

Callum Richards.

He stepped back as he glared at the other boy. “Oh. Scream at any innocent girls today or are you resting your voice?” He stated flatly. He didn’t like Callum. Didn’t know him too well, but he didn’t like him. The Ash thing obviously left a bad taste in his mouth but he also was part of the reason he and Javi were outed. Dude was a dick and he wasn’t in the mood.

mood
fight or flightlocation
rooftop

outfit
clothes duh

playing...
Had Some Drinks

by Two Feet​

mentions
Mags, Dorian

interactions
Ash & Callumtags
Winona hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

HUNTER DRAKE

When Nickie had gone silent after had laughed, he thought maybe he had taken it too far. And that's when he began thinking that maybe this was it. After all of that time spent hanging out, spending time with each other, and ignoring everyone who tried to put doubts into their heads. After Hunter had burned bridges with just about everyone who he formerly thought were close friends (save for Chas), Hunter really thought that this was it.

She was going to dump me.

But then she didn't say anything.

And Hunter was more confused than he had been this entire morning.

"What is she thinking?" Hunter asked himself in a low tone, one that wasn't loud enough for Nickie to hear. There was no doubt she saw his lips moving.

And at that moment, Hunter watched her walk closer to him.

The closer she walked, the faster his heart started pumping. It was daunting for a number of reasons, but the one that stood out was the last time it did this was when she had first blurted those three words he waited weeks to repeat back to her.

He frowned at recalling this memory because he started to wonder something.

What if I had said back to her then? At that moment.

In the back of his mind, that's what Hunter always wondered. If he had told her that she did to him — that she told him that she loved him — if he had said it back, could all of this had been avoided? Sure, at the time, it never crossed his mind that this would be where they'd end up. It never was a considered possibility that, in any hypothetical situation, they'd be in an empty classroom, fighting about a mistake he made long before they got together that had very little to do with their relationship.

It was crazy to think about and crazier that he still couldn't bring himself to believe this was actually happening right now, let alone that this would be it for them.

As Nickie stood in front of him, he had a thought. In all of what was happening, she was going to slap him, wasn't she? He put her through too much pain, made her suffer. She knew that he wasn't the boy that she said she loved and he sure as hell didn't feel like he was worth any of that.

"Do it." Hunter closed his eyes. "I know you want to hit me, so do it—"

And that's when she kissed him.

And for a few moments, no matter how small they were, Hunter allowed himself to relax and embrace it. He wanted to embrace her but her hold on his hands as if that was the most she'd allow him to touch.

That's when it became clear to Hunter. This wasn't an I-forgive-you-kiss, but rather it was a calm-before-the-storm kiss.

When she broke it and moved back, Hunter saw it on her face almost immediately. He saw the disgust. He saw the tears that went down her face, and he saw just how different she looked at him. Even before she opened her mouth, he knew there was no turning back.

“So the translation is: you’re a lying piece of shit who told me I could fucking trust you when you don’t even trust your damn self? W-What the actual fuck?!”

Hard to argue with that.

As he stared Nickie, Hunter could only think back to one of the first times he knew he and Nickie were made for each other. It was during the homecoming game. When she was having an almost-breakdown right there in front of everyone and he had called her Nicks probably for the first time in front of people, the way her blue eyes glistened in the artificial light of the football stadium, that's when Hunter knew that she was someone special. It might've not seemed like much at the time, but that always stuck with him.

But now? She might as well see him like everyone else at Hollywood Arts did.

Still...

Hunter just...couldn't bring himself to be mad and he sure as hell couldn't show it with her.

"I don't know what you want from me, Nickie!" He started speaking before he realized he took a step forward. "You wanted the truth. You even said to be honest! You can't have it both ways, you know!" Hunter, what are you doing? Goddamn it, guess there's no going back. "Do you want to know me or do you want to be ignorant to my mistakes?" His question came off as a rhetorical one and maybe, for the most part, it was, but he wanted to know. Despite that, it wouldn't stop him from continuing on. "But fine, try and say I'm the piece of shit because I didn't tell you about the one thing that I wasn't proud of."

As he stared down Nickie, his face was hot with an anger that hasn't boiled to the surface in front of her before, yet he just couldn't contain it anymore.

"Like, I'm sorry you're feeling hurt, but why is it a big fucking deal anyway!?" This time his voice went high almost to the point of breaking. "Am I not the person who has been there for you during every shit storm you've created? Am I not the one who went to bat for you on Twitter multiple times, even when you were in the wrong? Jesus-fucking-Christ, Nickie! I have put myself out there in your name. I put my own personal reputation on the line because I fucking love you! I even risked my friendship with Ash—" Hunter bit his lip to contain what was undoubtedly some form of a gut-punching surge of emotions. "—And now you're telling me that you're mad at me for this?"

He balled his fists up and slammed them against a desk that was to his left and expelled a scream that was both from the frustration he was feeling courtesy of his girlfriend and how much it hurt. "Like fuck! If this is what it took for you to look at me like everyone else does, then why are you still even here? Hit me or leave, but just decide cause I'm at my wits end!"

now playing...Addicted to Bad Decisions by Emery

mood: Yeah, I'm free all right...

location: Empty Classroom

outfit: Sup?

mentions: Nickie

interactions: Nickie

tags: ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Dalton Kirby

It was like having a cartoon character angry at you. That was what it felt like when Charlie swatted his arm and wrist for daring to ruffle her hair. Maybe was because of her pocket-sized stature – yeah, he wasn’t going to drop the matter of her height any time soon so deal with it – but it just made her little attempt to get back at him and her grumbling feel…adorably harmless. He couldn’t think of a better word so that would do for now. Put simply, he was just amused, like a child playing with a toy.

In any case, excellent student or not and putting aside the fact that she was probably spot on with everything she had said, there was no way he was leaving his fate in the hands of Howell.

“Dude, I’m gonna throat punch you if you make one more short person joke.”

Could she even reach his throat with her fist? Ok so she had knocked out the tooth of Chas “My mother and father blah blah” Marino and punched his blindly loyal little pet in the nuts, so her threats weren’t completely harmless, but he wasn’t either of them. Plus, again, her size just made her seem like angry little cartoon with the giant mouth and short squarish body, like Dexter from Dexter’s Laboratory.

The mental image made him snort and then Charlie’s next words had him frowning.

“Even better, I may just leave and let you handle lovely Madam Jenkins by yourself.”

Now that, sounded much worse that the throat punch threat. Mostly because he’d probably lose his temper and end up getting into serious trouble. Jenkins was very bad for his patience. Also what did she mean by letting him handle the old croon on his own? Weren’t they –

Charlie stopped in front of the chemistry classroom and then started acting like she was filming a spy movie, pressing her body between the door and a row of lockers.

Dalton gave another small snort of amusement as he watched her peer into the classroom. Perhaps rather than a character from Dexter’s Laboratory, she was more like a character from a spy cartoon, it certainly felt like he was watching one.

“Alright, game plan.”

Sheesh, even her whispers were on the loud side. There really was nothing quiet about Charlie Howell.

“You’re gonna go in and distract her,”

Hold up, Jenkins was in the office? He moved forward and got his own look through the window and there she was behind her laptop.

Well fuck. There went his plan to just slip in real quick, grab what he needed and then leave just as quickly.

“get her to talk about your grade and the test. Then I’ll roll in and pull my best Nickie impression, all ‘oh em gee did I just hear that you are treating a student poorly? It would be a shame if she the school board found out about this’ and then get her to give me the notes. I’m like 99% sure she knows me from AP Chem last year since she was always trying to jump Mr Weaver’s bones during class so I bet that my threats will work.”

That, was the first little speech of Howell’s that he didn’t mind listening to because it was amusing. Best Nickie impression? Jenkins trying to jump Weaver’s bones? Hilarious.

And then before he could register what she was doing and respond, Howell had pushed open the door to the room, the door that he was standing right in front of.

“Go team.”

Hold up –

Too late. The creaking had Jenkins looking up and her soulless eyes were staring right back at him as she lowered her laptop screen and acknowledged his presence.

“Mr Dalton Kirby,” she began in that venomous voice of hers, “what brings you to my office?”

That little shit! He hadn’t even agreed to the plan – Ah fuck. No getting out of it or suggesting alternatives now. He was going to get back at her for this though.

Taking a calming breath, Dalton stepped inside the witch’s lair, making sure to leave the door ajar behind him.

“I’m here about the test Ms Jenkins.” He started, trying to keep his voice level, “I don’t think it’s fair that you’ve only given me a day’s notice before the test with only a vague and unclear syllabus to refer to.”

Jenkins’ eyes narrowed immediately, and she brought her fingers together as she studied him from behind her desk.

“What are you trying to say Dalton? Tomorrow’s test has been indicated in the syllabus documents from the very beginning and every student in my class receives the exact same set of documents.”

Bitch. She had to know that wasn't what he was talking about. He was talking about her damned threat for what would happen if he failed the test.

“I only received my previous test paper back today.”

“Ahhh, that’s because I was studying it trying to see how I could help you improve your constantly falling grades.” She countered.

The bullshit that was coming out of her mouth was just, un-fucking-believable.

Dalton clenched his teeth slightly as he tried to remain calm.

“Even so professor, surely I could have received my test paper back earlier so I could at least have more time to study the sections I got wrong and I still don’t think it’s fair that you only notified me today that I would have to stay back for compulsory consultations if I fail tomorrow’s test.”

The longer he stood there talking, staring at her face, the harder it was getting to keep vitriol from spilling out of his mouth. If this plan didn’t work and he got into serious trouble for it, he was blaming Charlie Howell.

Jenkins disentangled her hands and tapped one bony finger on her desk, the sound grating on his ears as she took her sweet time to respond to him.

“Dalton, regardless of whether I informed you of the compulsory consultations today or last week, as I said, tomorrow’s test was in the syllabus and you received the syllabus at the very beginning. Should you not then have studied hard in preparation for the test much earlier then?”

Fucking –

“And regarding you receiving your test back late, if you were truly concerned, then you would have come to me earlier to ask about it but you never did.”

Dalton grit his teeth and clenched his fist behind his back. Fuck, if she wasn’t his teacher and they weren’t at school he would just –

Stay calm. Do not lose your temper.

“Even then Ms Jenkins,” he continued, fighting the edge of irritation creeping into his voice, “I can’t help but feel like I’m being set up for failure here, and it’s unfair for my failure to ask for my paper back earlier to be taken as me being unconcerned about my results in this class. I’ve had a number of jobs recently,” Plus a lot of other shit in the form of ‘family’ and Slutter, “and between that and arts fest coming up,” well he didn’t have any plans to do anything for arts fest but Jenkins didn’t know that, “collecting the test paper back from you slipped my mind.”

Besides, fuck her for taking advantage of the fact that he was away on a job the day she handed back the test papers to give his back late.

His words seemed to have hit a nerve because the look of impassivity on her face crumpled into annoyance and then rage.

“Setting you up for failure?” She repeated, a note of anger in her tone that wasn’t there before. Yep, he definitely struck a nerve with that. “Don’t make excuses just because you’re not happy with the conditions I’ve set Dalton. Do you even try? Because every time I see you in class you seem to be doing anything but listening to my lessons or trying and your test papers so far have suggested the same.”

Because his ears bled listening to her speak, just like they were bleeding now. When the hell was Howell going to intervene with her whole Nickie Abrams imitation act?

Her voice rose as she continued talking. “While you are attending this school to be a model, I believe you should give every subject and every teacher the same amount of respect and effort and I simply have seen nothing of the sort from you thus far.” Man the wrinkles and frown lines in her face were deep, poor Mr Weaver, having to deal with her trying to jump his bones. Yeah, he was going to think that because that was the only way he was keeping his calm right now.

“And I just don’t think it’s fair that I’m being singled out like this and having my attitude and effort judged as poor simply because I have been struggling to produce results. Isn’t it the job of teachers to treat each and every student equally and fairly without favouritism or bias?”

Any time now, Howell. Seriously. Pull your heroine saves the day act or whatever, because he was running out of patience and from the looks of it, so was Jenkins.

mood
hurry up

location
Professor's office

outfit
outfit

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
Slutter, Chas, Hunter

interactions
Charlie

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

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  feeling good feeling great
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what he's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  long sleeve school branded compression shirt, matching compression pants, matching gym shorts, matching workout sneakers

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  gym and school hallways
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  PenguinFox
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

REMI

QB1(#12) - Junior- Handsome - Actor

He couldn't help but smile when she mentioned she didn't have any plans. Though he did - he had classes to go to, he could afford to skip every now and then, right? As long as his teacher didn't spot him in the hallway. This wasn't like this was someone he had just met and had no history with. No! He and Leonia practically grew up together. Their fathers were close friends and naturally, Remi and Leonia were too.

”Yeah, I can show you around. I know it's been a bit.”

he offered, readjusting the bag on his shoulder with a bit of a chuckle. She insisted he go shower and he could only chuckle again before he nodded,

”Alright, alright. I'm going."

and with that he did a bit of a jog back towards the locker room from which he came.

He took a deep breath moving past one of his teammates whom he dapped up, before going back to his locker and getting his duffle bag. There was a sort of a shuffle as he grabbed some fresh clothes out, a t-shirt, light jacket, jeans, jordans and his chain before he ducked off to the shower. He spent a little extra time under the hot water. He wanted to make sure that he paid a little extra time to smelling good and making sure his hair was on point. He knew he didn't have to impress her - they were already good friends, but something made him feel like he needed to be on point.

So once he was out of the shower and dried off, he moved back to his locker with his towel around his waist moving through the colognes he had. This was a special occasion. So he picked the one he thought smelled the nicest. He picked the Creed Aventus, which wasn't his most expensive cologne but it was the one he enjoyed the most. It was only about 350 for this bottle, but it always was guaranteed to impress. He


The day started like any other day for Remi. You know, waking up at the butt-crack of dawn to hit the gym and do his first workout of the day. Today was chest, shoulders, and triceps and he hit it hard at his at home gym. Then it was the short drive to a field where he met up with one of the receivers from the team and then spent the next hour running through routes, timing, and overall building chemistry. When that wrapped up, it was barely 0600 and Remi had returned to his apartment and began to eat while studying. Nothing complex- it was morning after all. Tassot kabrit, diri ak fey lalo ak sirik, 6 scrambled eggs (with cheese), and a banana strawberry mango kale and spinach smoothie with whey protein . This was on the lighter side of breakfast for him.


After completing his meal and study session, he proceeded to the bathroom to begin his morning routine. You know - shower, skin care - the typical morning routine. Nothing big. Either way, when he stepped out of the shower he got dressed and headed to school early to take care of other extra curricular activities like his SGA duties. Eventually, he would make it to class and at some point shot a DM off to Amy. He had gotten a text that one of his friends was going to make him another chain, and he wanted to get rid of the old one. He didn't need the money, but logically it made more sense to sell it and use it towards the new one.

Time would pass and he would head off to his free period. There was a script he needed to finish and what better place to do it than in the peace and quiet of the weight room. He usually was the only one at this time who put in the extra work in the weight room outside of the mandatory gym sessions for either of his football or basketball practices. Because he had such a consistent routine, who would know most days who would be when and where. Plus sometimes being in the gym inspired him to write. It wasn’t always the greatest of words, but either way, he was productive.
So, he expended 30 minutes towards his script until the flow stopped coming naturally and did not press it any further out of fear that the new things he was writing would be contrived. So taking a free hand to close the laptop, he shoved it into his bookbag and stuffed it into his football locker swapping the backpack out for a duffle bag with the school’s name on it. There was a quick wardrobe change, back to the compression gear in the school colors, along with workout shoes and gloves.

There wasn’t much hesitation as Remi got on his back on the bench and begin to do bench presses. Fifteen reps at 215 and he rested the bar back on its rack and sat up. He took in a slow breath rubbing his eyes, before going back at it. He spent the next hour there, before he noted he was going to be late for his next obligation and immediately got up to his feet.

He didn’t bother to shower nor change, instead swapping his gym bag out for his backpack again before heading outside the weight room. He made it halfway to his destination before he heard his name. It took a minute with the chaos of students in the hall before he recognized the direction from which it was coming from before he was damn near tackled. He blinked a few times trying to regain his wits before gazing down below him.

It was Leonia and one he recognized this fact it kind of upset him that he didn’t bother to shower and change. They were childhood friends so it wasn’t as if it was their first time meeting and this would be his first impression on her BUT there were two people he always wanted to put on for especially. That was Amethyst and Leonia, two women he (whether he would admit aloud or not) had crushes on for a long time.

He took in a deep breath after the second hug and looked down the hall, he questioned before returning his attention to her. He offered her a smile and brought her in for another hug, and this time holding her closer and tight,

“Smell the stank, enjoy it.”

He pulled away with a chuckle before laughing ,

”You got something to do? I can go grab a shower and spend some time with you if you’re free.”

He couldn't help but smile when she mentioned she didn't have any plans. Though he did - he had classes to go to, he could afford to skip every now and then, right? As long as his teacher didn't spot him in the hallway. This wasn't like this was someone he had just met and had no history with. No! He and Leonia practically grew up together. Their fathers were close friends and naturally, Remi and Leonia were too.

”Yeah, I can show you around. I know it's been a bit.”

he offered, readjusting the bag on his shoulder with a bit of a chuckle. She insisted he go shower and he could only chuckle again before he nodded,

”Alright, alright. I'm going."

and with that he did a bit of a jog back towards the locker room from which he came.

He took a deep breath moving past one of his teammates whom he dapped up, before going back to his locker and getting his duffle bag. There was a sort of a shuffle as he grabbed some fresh clothes out, a t-shirt, light jacket, jeans, jordans and his chain before he ducked off to the shower. He spent a little extra time under the hot water. He wanted to make sure that he paid a little extra time to smelling good and making sure his hair was on point. He knew he didn't have to impress her - they were already good friends, but something made him feel like he needed to be on point.

So, once he was out of the shower and dried off, he moved back to his locker with his towel around his waist moving through the colognes he had. This was a special occasion. So, he picked the one he thought smelled the nicest. He picked the Creed Aventus, which wasn't his most expensive cologne, but it was the one he enjoyed the most. It was only about 350 for this bottle, but it always was guaranteed to impress. A good spritz on the wrists, in which he rubbed together, then rubbed on his neck and he was good to go.
He dressed himself quickly but took a time to adjust his clothes. It wasn’t anything complicated – it wasn’t as if he had planned to run into anyone he cared to impress. It was just clothing he wanted to feel comfortable in while in class. Especially considering he had football practice and wouldn’t be staying in these clothes long. Either way, he was going to make himself look as nice as possible. Making sure there was no wrinkles, the jeans were cuffed properly, and that the j’s were crisp with no creases.

He slid the chain on, watching the gold Cuban link settle on his chest, before he finally decided he was looking good enough to at least be around Leonia. He hadn’t expected them to spend time together so soon, but here it was.

His phone vibrated before he could leave the locker room, so he blinked before reaching a long arm towards it and picking it up. It was a message from Amy, in which she was telling him that she was going to be late with his chain. He didn’t really care, it was no need to rush, but she insisted and explained she was having a bad day and was going to spend time with Kayla anyways.

This caused Remi to sit, so he could check up on his friend. It was the usual nonsense that defined a school full of spoiled children. Remi wasn’t too interested in the actual details of the drama, but he was concerned about his friend. He didn’t come out of character often, but for her? He’d set the world ablaze because he…he …he liked her. He always had. Probably a little more than like if we were being honest. And just realized he had confessed just as much to her. Though she didn’t seem to get it until he had to spell it out. It was adorable how oblivious she could be. What’s more? It seemed she reciprocated.

Now he was excited to see her later. They needed to talk this out more, didn’t they? He hadn’t really dated anyone since freshman year and that was a disaster, but maybe it was time to change that.

Then he remembered Leonia was waiting on him. He was still excited to see her. He had feelings for her for years, and if he had thought she liked him back? They might have avoided that whole fiasco they both endured their freshman year. But he doubted she did. Else she would have said something by now, right? Still. Until he figured out things with Amy he was going to enjoy his time with the beautiful woman he had a crush on most of his life.

He slid his phone back into his pocket, and grabbed his bookbag again before getting up and headed back to where she stood,

”My bad I took too long. Was trying to make sure I smelled extra good for you."

He chuckled as he followed behind her, finding his eyes fall towards her waist before he caught himself and jogged a bit to get next to her. Man. Keeping his eyes up was going to be hard,

”Not for real. But, you know the saying. As things change the more they stay say the same. Or whatever my granny used to say

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ohdittoh]

dominicka abrams

Hunter stared at her for a moment.

“Are—“ Nickie stepped back from him, shaking her head in disgust. “Are you not going to fucking—“

“I don’t know what you want from me, Nickie!” He took a step forward.

“I said I wanted the fucking truth, Hunter!” Her face was red, and more tears spilled down it.

“You wanted the truth. You even said to be honest!” She flinched at his yelling, shrunk back slightly. “You can’t have it both ways, you know!”

Nickie looked up at him, her tear-filled, blue eyes angry. “Y-You— I—“

“Do you want to know me,” Hunter demanded, “or do you want to be ignorant of my mistakes?”

Nickie stared at him, frozen.

“But fine,” he said, “try and say I’m the piece of shit because i didn’t tell you about the one thing I wasn’t proud of.” His eyes were focused on her, burning — angry — and she felt small beneath them. “Like, I’m sorry you’re feeling hurt, but why is it a big fucking deal anyway!?”

Another tear pressed from her eyes. “Because—“

“Am I not the person who has been there for you during every shit storm you’ve created?”

She looked down at the floor. “You—“

“Am I not the one who went to bat for you on Twitter multiple times, even when you were in the wrong?”

Her eyes met his again. When she saw his eyes once more, her chest banged as if she’d been shot in the chest.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Nickie! I have put myself out there in your name. I put my own personal reputation on the line because I fucking love you! I even risked my friendship with Ash—“ He bit his lip for a second, and then continued. “—And now you’re telling me that you’re mad at me for this?”

“Hunter—“

Slam!

She flinched as he slammed his fist into a desk and let out a frustrated scream. She resisted the urge to cover her ears, instead squeezing her eyes shut tightly as his yelling continued. “Like fuck! If this is what it took for you to look at me like everyone else does, then why are you even here? Hit me or leave, but just decide cause I’m at my wits end!”

“They were right about you.”

The words left Nickie’s mouth without registering in her brain. They were growled, raspy, broken, and held all of the anger that she’d been trying to shove back.

She opened her eyes, and more tears spilled out as she trained them on Hunter. “From the very start,” she said in a quiet voice. “From the very fucking start, I thought you were different. When I started talking to you, I thought…I thought what they were saying was all wrong, that everyone judged you too quickly.” She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I thought you were kind, and caring, and honest, and open, and you weren’t afraid to be you.” She found herself smiling. She laughed softly. “I — I thought you were perfect. I thought behind your pretty face was a pretty person who loved me. Even if I said — said I didn’t trust you saying that you didn’t know the reasons…even if I, like…said I didn’t believe you, I wanted to believe you and trust you, and I told everyone else that you loved me, because I fucking wanted it to be true. Because you — …you were someone I thought was different.”

She drew in a deep sniffle, her weak smile failing. “E-Even when we fought at lock-in, even when I realized that I-I, like, barely knew you, I wanted to think that I fucking knew you. I wanted to push all of my doubts out of the way, even after they left my mouth. I-I…I wanted to live in this fucking delusion that you told me was right.” Her eyes met his again. “Th-that you let me fucking believe.”

Her voice quivered, and as she continued, it rose in volume and in anger. “I asked you for the truth here — I’m not fucking mad at you for not telling me the truth, since that’s what I fucking asked for. Sure, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear — wasn’t what I fucking — what I fucking expected, but that?! Yeah, I don’t actually give a shit. But you…you let me live in that fucking lie since the very fucking start. You let me think that you wouldn’t — that you weren’t that kind of person, that you’d never do such a fucking thing — not to me, anyway, and not to anyone here, because you — you were fucking different! When I asked for the truth, I wasn’t asking for it the first time, Hunter — I was just repeating something that I fucking expected this whole time! A-And for you — for you to fucking act like I’m selfish for that?! Like — like I’m overreacting for that?! Like it’s — like it’s my fault for caring now?!”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and large tears rolled from her eyes. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, balling up her own fists and throwing them to her sides as she opened her eyes again. “Hunter, I expected this all fucking all along — the truth, I mean. And — and everyone in my life told me not to trust you, and I said fuck them, because — because you?! You said you loved me. You acted like you cared. And — and people — people don’t fucking do that for me. And — and, and you had to know that. I was fucking easy to you.” She sounded disgusted with herself. “I — I was someone who wouldn’t question it, who would be fucking satisfied by your answers that were fucking bullshit, just fucking I don’t know why I love you because you fucking didn’t. You were — I don’t know what you fucking planned to accomplish by us, by this! But now that I fucking know — know what you…what you did with Liv, I can’t help but think — I was just another person to be used and fucking discarded.”

That’s all I ever am to people. As soon as Remi got bored, he acted like I didn’t fucking exist. As soon as he was bored with me, he was fucking done with me — and you’re just the fucking same.

“I said I love you, Hunter.” Nickie squinted at Hunter, clenching her jaw. “What fucking kept you with me, huh?! After I said I — that I cared about you?! That I would have done fucking anything to keep you?! Was…was…” She laughed, shaking her head. “Was that what you fucking wanted all along?”

She swallowed hard, dropping her eyes to the floor. She gasped in air, and she tensed up her shoulders, holding in a sob. When she spoke again, her voice was small. “So you were never going to tell me. You were hoping I wouldn’t find out so that I wouldn’t know what kind of person you are. So that I…I wouldn’t…know what you wanted with me.” She looked up at him again. “How soon were you going to leave me, huh? Do you have a general timeframe for when you were going to break my fucking heart, like you did fucking Liv’s, like you probably did a ton of other fucking girls at this fucking school?!” She was growing loud again. “How planned out did you get this?! Was it the original plan but you got fucking sidetracked?! You said you didn’t know if you were the same person or not — so you fucking had that planned out for me, too?!”

She unfurled her fists, clenching at the tail of her shirt for a second, and then—

Slap!

She reared back and slapped him in the face.

And she stared at him for a moment, her shoulders heaving, her breathing ragged, and she held in another sob.

“You told me to hit you or leave, and I plan to do fucking both,” she hissed through her teeth. “But before I go, I want to make one thing fucking clear.”

Her face was burning, her eyes were teary. Her cheeks were wet. She looked like a fucking mess.

And when she spoke, her voice was weak and strained.

“Us? We’re fucking through.”

With an intensity unlike her posture suggested, she spun on her heel and stormed from the room, making her way towards the bathroom with her hands covering her face.

And she didn’t think anything as she collapsed beside the toilet in the same stall as she had at the lock-in, as she clicked the door shut and fell to the side of the toilet, as she curled her legs up to her chest and started to sob.

She didn’t think anything except, God, I’m so fucking stupid.

God, I can’t fucking believe this shit.

God, I hate him.

I fucking hate him.

mood
...

location
a bathroom stall

outfit
casual

playing...
oh god

by mothica​

mentions
liv & remi

interactions
hunter

tags
natsukashii

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Ezra Gray

@EZGoing has set their status to:
who even knows

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
you know that dilf energy already

@EZGoing has set their location to:
pottery studio

@EZGoing has mentioned:
n/a

@EZGoing has interacted with:
Chas, Landon, Mikaela, Auggie

@EZGoing has tagged:
hery gh0stwriter Xed qunqun ohdittoh

From the second Ezra had stepped out into the hall, he was acutely aware that perhaps he had overstepped one of Mr Marino’s many unspoken boundaries that, from Ezra’s experience, were impossible to keep up with in any capacity. There was, however, a decent possibility that Chas had simply brought him into the hallway to make conversation. Ezra was a lovely person, after all, and Chas clearly wasn’t great with showing affection or interest in front of others.

"Care to explain what the hell all that was? Where do you get off humiliating me like that in front of everybody every chance you get? I looked like a moron back there!"

Ezra laughed warmly, leaning further back into the wall with his arms crossed over his semi-exposed chest. Chas was definitely angry, there was no more doubt in Ezra’s mind. Slowly, a grin creeped onto his face as he watched the smaller boy in front of him turn several different shades of red. He made note of one of the middle shades, a rouge around the apples of Chas’s cheeks, to incorporate into one of his pieces as a little inside joke for himself. He’d call it Chas Confusion Cherry.

"Yeah, okay, I can maybe take you undermining my authority and being a blatant pervert every five seconds, but ignoring me? Disregarding my obviously qualified input? And then questioning my ability to speak in public? Get a grip, you narcissist!" Chas continued to ramble, leaving Ezra to simply observe and listen with the smug smile tugging constantly at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, we get it. This production needs you. I asked you to come here. That doesn't make you some half-assed philanthropist. I was almost grateful you've been showing up, but..."

The ranting and raving ceased for a moment and Ezra cocked a clever eyebrow. What was Mr Marino thinking? Gears were turning inside of his abnormally arrogant skull, some sort of thought process lining up to be spewed out of his surprisingly soft looking lips. Ezra wondered what sort of chapstick the boy used and quickly came to the conclusion that it was likely something very expensive with a name he couldn’t pronounce.

Then, in a strange turn of events, Chas threw his hands up into the air before he continued to speak. Ah, so he had been trying to figure out how to express himself without crossing a line or exposing himself too much. Fascinating. Here Ezra thought he was just rambling without purpose, he hadn’t expected any sort of thought to have gone into his words.

"Now you're making eyes at Landon and Auguste in the filming area? And that workspace… Everything is out of control. Everything is moved out of place, the lead actors are clearly not off-book, and... what the hell, Alex is this late, again?" Did Chas expect Ezra to respond or were all these questions pure rhetoricals? Ezra couldn’t quite tell given the fact that Chas had barely stopped for one measly breath before continuing to yell. "How did I let myself get suckered into this? This leadership role's going to take years off my lifespan."

“Suckered into this?” Ezra echoed quietly, his previously quirked eyebrow falling back into place. “And here I thought you said that you ran this joint. I believe the words ‘true director’ were spoken.”

Did Chas hear what Ezra had to say? He wasn’t entirely sure. Unfortunately, Ezra didn’t quite care if his words had fallen on deafened ears, he had spoken entirely on his snarky principle.

In front of him, Chas seemed to be pulling himself together enough to compose a semi-decent sentence. With a blink, the emotion was replaced by the cold and arrogant person that Ezra had started growing accustomed to.

"The point of me telling you all this is simply to ask why it's such an ordeal just to get a single person to actually listen to anything I have to say. You don't have to like me, but god damn, I'm the only one here with years of experience directing and managing the stage. What's so hard? What did I do wrong?" Chas stopped slightly, finally seeming to acknowledge that he was talking to another person and not a glorified personification of a brick wall. "Do I need to shove a drill in everyone's frontal lobes to get some damn respect and a black light roast coffee around here?"

Ezra didn’t speak, instead allowing a moment of silence to pass between the two. He was afraid that if he spoke, Chas would simply start running his mouth again and Ezra’s ever-so-brilliant thoughts would get cut off before completion. After enough time passed, Ezra pushed himself off the wall and allowed his arms to drop casually to his sides.

Time to walk on eggshells and attempt to come up with an answer that wouldn’t piss them both off.

“You really are awful at holding a conversation.” Ezra blurted out, completely destroying his original objective of ‘keeping the peace’ with exactly one sentence. Fuck it, he had to go with it now. “You changed the subject, what, three or four times before you even allowed me a word in otherwise? Typically, you stop and allow people to respond before you continue on ranting. Figured that I would remind you in case you forgot.”

The final sentence came out harsher than intended, an foreign bite to Ezra’s tone. He hadn’t lied and if Chas could rant for five minutes straight, Ezra was about to do the same.

“To answer your abundance of questions,” Ezra began, “I must say that I don’t particularly know what you’re going on about. I made it crystal clear when I agreed to help you that I wasn’t going to be working for you, terms in which you agreed to. And I was hardly humiliating you, I was simply doing what I agreed to.” Ezra shoved his hands into his front pockets and leaned his shoulders back against the wall. “Honestly, do you treat everyone who is doing you a favour like this?”

The clear answer was yes, but Ezra wasn’t about to say that. He was already on too thin ice.

“And don’t act like I was about to fuck Auguste on the table right then and there. I’ve already told you, as flirtatious as I am, I am even more so a professional. I wouldn’t disrespect the opportunity to work on your film with something as meaningless as sex. I would also hardly call some harmless flirting ‘perverted’, but I suppose that must just be your innocent side speaking.” Ezra chuckled softly with a shake of his head. “You know, Chas, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you were jealous of my flirtation with others.” Ezra reached out a hand and drew a line down Chas’s jaw before squishing his cheeks together like you would with a baby. “How absolutely adorable. You know, if you wanted the attention for yourself, all you had to do was ask.”

Pulling his hand away, Ezra stepped off the wall and took a few pacing steps. Would he continue to tease or would he actually attempt to be a friendly professional? He certainly didn’t want Chas to have a full on heart attack in front of him from the stress so with a sigh, Ezra dropped the charm and simply gave Chas a shrug.

“Look, I can’t control what Alex or Landon or Mikaela does in a round of a production day, nor can I help with speeding up production at all. Filmmaking is out of my element, directing even moreso. You hold the expertise in that sector, hence why I am not getting involved with any of the filming or production.” A little ego fluffing never hurt anyone. “I am not going to pretend that I know anything about direction or scriptwriting or film production because I don’t. Telling you how to perform your job would be absolutely hypocritical since I don’t know a thing. Similar to how you don’t know anything about what I’m doing. You haven’t worked in a studio to know that they’re nearly always messy, you haven’t had to spend a ridiculous amount of time to perfect one object that someone asked you to make because you don’t want to let them down. So don’t tell me how to do my job. Besides, micromanaging isn’t going to work.”

Ezra once again sighed as he lifted his eyes from the ground in front of him. For a moment, he simply looked at Chas and wondered to himself if he was genuinely upset or simply throwing a signature temper tantrum.

“Clearly this is a stressful experience for you and I apologize if I’ve done anything to contribute to that.” Ezra eventually managed, his thumbs lacing around his belt loops. “But as I said before, micromanaging never works for anyone. Do what you do best: write, create, direct. Nowhere in that list does it say that you need to control or demand or yell. You’re a talented person, Chas, but this attitude that you possess simply makes you look inexperienced and childish,” Ezra shrugged slightly before adding a quick, “which we both know you’re not.”

This would be the prime time for Ezra to make a joke about Chas needing to get laid or doing something else that the writer would consider scandalous in order to chill out. Something about the situation, however, kept Ezra from landing one of his snarky jokes. Perhaps it was the concern that Chas was actually, though Ezra doubted he was, and thoroughly upset.

“If you want my opinion, which I genuinely doubt you do, here’s what I would recommend. Let go of all that control you’re craving because, realistically, you won’t get it the way you’re acting now. If you want people to follow you, to listen to what you have to say, they have to respect you. People will never respect or have any desire to respect you if all you do is micromanage and degrate and berate. The passion you have is important to maintain, that is what gives you the edge that makes you stand apart from the crowd, but don’t let it blind you. You’re doing yourself and your talents a great disservice by tearing yourself down like that.”

Ezra took a step closer to Chas, a softer, more genuine smile pulling onto his lips as he reached a hand out to brush through Chas’s hair.

“Do that, and maybe more people will be as fascinated with you as I am.”

Movement to Ezra’s right caused him to step back, tucking his hands once more nonchalantly into his pockets. When his eyes settled on the approaching boy, Ezra looked back to Chas and nodded with finality.

“The star of the show has arrived,” Ezra said warmly, offering a welcoming grin to Landon. “I suppose I will leave you to it.” Turning lazily on his heels, Ezra pushed the door open and held it for the actor. “Good morning, Landon. I hope all is well.”

Ezra also certainly hoped that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea about what he had just seen. Chas had made it clear that he was in a relationship, or had been in a relationship, and was experiencing pain about it. Ezra certainly didn’t want to seem the homewrecking type. Walking back to his makeshift studio, Ezra pushed open the curtain and made his way over to where Auguste had been working.

“Ah, excellent work!” Ezra complimented as he took the piece in his fingers, turning it over carefully so as to not get dark paint on his skin. “I actually have something else you can help me with. Come, I want to show you the real studio.”

Motioning for Auguste to follow him, Ezra waved to Mikaela who had seemingly entered the room in his absence before walking past Landon and Chas into the hallway. Ezra stayed quiet, allowing a comfortable quiet to sit between the two as they made the short walk into the empty pottery studio that sat empty, no classes to be held until 5th period.

“Leave the door open,” Ezra instructed as he pulled the open button down off his shoulders and tied the arms around his waist, “it gets incredibly hot in here if you don’t because of the kiln in the back.”

With confident strides, Ezra stopped in front of a pottery wheel with a rather large vase sitting on top of the surface. Carefully sitting down, Ezra wet his hands and turned the wheel on with his foot. In smooth movements, Ezra’s large hands began to wet the clay, pressure occasionally added to smooth out some ridges that were formed by his fingers.

“There actually wasn’t anything I really needed you to do.” Ezra confessed quietly as he began to work the clay. “Mr Director was frustrated. Figured we would leave for a bit and let him cool down.” Ezra flashed a smile in Auguste’s direction as he pulled over another wooden stool beside him with his foot. “Besides, I did offer you that pottery lesson. No better place to learn than the studio. Here.”

Ezra pulled a piece of clay free from the pile beside him and smacked it down onto the pottery wheel beside his own.

“No better way to learn than to do it hands on.” He said, nodding to the basin of water. “Time to get your hands dirty. Come on, I’ll show you.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

trevor callaghan​

Trevor’s van was “disturbingly clean”. He prided himself on this fact, mostly because it, like his room, was one of the few things in his life that he could always have in order, with everything in place — the same, spotless place, every time. You could call it unhealthily obsessive cleaning, but it was totally fecking normal.

Of course, that meant anyone who came in here and any moves made that messed up this order completely offset him, and Nathan seemed to be intentionally trying to offset him — and acting as though he didn’t notice what he was doing at all.

As Nate lifted his foot, dirt smeared against the back of his van’s seat. Trevor stared at the smudge. His heart gave a squeeze.

A smudge.

A dirt smudge on the back of his driver’s seat.

He looked at Nate’s face as the other boy just casually fecking inhaled from his joint.

Was he not going to—

Feck.

He looked to the stain again, his eye twitching.

Deep breaths…

Deep fecking breaths…

It’s.

Totally.

Fine.

He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.

Fecking Zen.

He opened his eyes again, and he licked his thumb. Grimacing and furrowing his brows, he started to scrub at the dirt with his thumb.

Jackass. Nate was a jackassjackassjackassjackassjackassjackassjackass.

To Trevor’s comment that someone else probably wanted to fuck Evie, Nate said, “Yeah, Gen, and I'd fucking love to see that. And probably you, Spank Bank.”

Trevor scowled. “Not me,” he iterated.

“Don't really care as long as they keep it to themselves,” Nate continued. “Tell me…how many guys wanna fuck your girlfriend and don't beat around the bush about it...? Bet she's hanging with some guy right now that's flirting with her. Can't say I blame them. She's hot as fuck, even if she's kind of a bitch."

“F—“

So Nate got mad when Trevor called his girlfriend hot, but Nate could call Ash hot and a bitch and it was fine?

And did he have to mention the other guys?! Seriously. Below the belt.

Trevor crossed his arms tightly. “Oh, shut up,” he grumbled. “Don’t call her hot and don’t call her a bitch.”

And then, to Trevor’s assertion that they were happier than Evie and Nate, Nate just sarcastically agreed (“right”) and held the joint out for Trevor again.

Trevor took the joint. “Yeah, right is right,” he huffed.

"Nothing says satisfaction like taking a chick to fucking Walmart,” Nate said.

“It was fun,” he insisted. “And nice.”

“Why the fuck is she even with you?"

Ouch.

Trevor winced and took a hit from the joint.

He didn’t have to say that. He really didn’t have to fecking say that.

"We went on a date to the art museum. That's called an actual date. A date to Walmart is what middle-aged couples do 'cause they got a babysitter for two hours and don't have time to grocery shop any other day. Doesn't exactly scream perfect to me. Tell me, you get her some of those cheap ass plastic roses, too? Call that a fucking date?"

“I got her a…ferret treat or something,” he said, but then he realized that it wasn’t the best defense, and he said once more, “Fuck off.”

Nate snorted. "You've been dating for, what, you said since fair? And it sounds like you two have less fun than…I can't even think of another couple that would be more miserable and sucking at this dating thing than you." He crossed his arms, chuckling.

“Can you just not?” Trevor glared at him. “Can you seriously just fecking not?”

"Listen, I don't even know what else to say about my relationship, 'cause at this point I almost feel bad for rubbing it in your face just how great me and Evie are."

Every second this went on was another second that Trevor was reminded why exactly he hated people.

“Good for you, round of applause. Ya want a fecking medal?” Trevor drawled sarcastically. “Don’t put me and Ash down. We’re doing…great. We’re just doing great in a different way than you are. Even if she blew me off this morning to hang out with that prick or whatever, we’re doing fecking fine. It’s no big deal.” He was getting a headache even thinking about it, which wasn’t supposed to happen with weed, so he took another breath from the joint. “We’re doing great,” he repeated, as though it would make it true.

He looked at the place where Nate’s dirt had been. There was still a speck. He shifted uncomfortably, licked his thumb, and leaned forward to clean it. “Be more careful,” he grunted. “I have to keep this in good shape — it’s the only vehicle I’m getting.” He glared back at Nate. “This thing has to last me until I graduate, and I’m not going to allow it to get dirty and decrepit.” He breathed out a long sigh, holding the joint out for Nate. “That doesn’t require a comment, by the way.”

He settled back against the seat, leaning his head against the headrest, and he looked at the ceiling. For a second, he went quiet, just staring at the closed air conditioning vent, and then he said, “So how’d it happen? The whole ‘you two gettin’ together’ thing?” He turned his head towards Nate, raising his eyebrows curiously.

mood


location
rachel

outfit
something casual

playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall

by glaive​

mentions
lucky, gen, evie, & ash

interactions
nate

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Zeph Evermore

Inwardly, he groaned at the idea of karaoke, although he kept a nice smile on his face and didn't let his inner groanings be at all visible.

Could Zeph sing? Sure, of course he could.

Did he like to? Not at freaking all.

When you were singing (or acting, ahem, Remi), you were met with all of this... well, people were watching you directly, and you were relying totally on your voice. And it wasn't a matter of Zeph having stage fright, because he could get on stage and move his way through a dance without missing a single beat. But it was...

Maybe it was something about stage fright, because he hated having to look out at a crowd and seeing them all staring back up at him -- there was just something so nerve-wracking about that to him.

And yet, he could dance just fine because it was just... it was easier to forget that people were watching, because he was more focused on what his body was doing. He wasn't having to stare out at the crowd, because he was busy counting steps and making sure that what he was doing was right.

Zeph let out a soft chuckle and gave a nod of his head. "Yeah... yeah, go karts sounds cool. I think there's a ahh... like, there's this cool little uhh... like go kart place," he said and pointed behind himself with his thumb as if he was gesturing in the direction of said go kart place... even though he didn't actually know where it was. It was just kind of how he talked.

And then, she suggested the greatest idea of all.

A double date with Charlie and Lin, and his eyes lit up at the very idea.

"That's... yeah, yeah, I'll ask Lin some time. When he's not telling me about vanilla being beaver ass," Zeph replied, and pretty much just skipped right over explaining anything about that terrifying conversation. Inwardly, he gave a little shudder as nightmares about being a beaver ass prophet flooded through his brain again.

That had to be one of the worst conversations of his life.

As they grabbed their food, Stella suggested heading outside into the courtyard to eat, and he gave a nod of his head. "Yeah, sure, that sounds great," he agreed and with that, he started towards the door that led outside. He pressed his back against it since his hands were, well, holding his lunch and held the door open for Stella. Once she was through, he stepped away, letting the door fall shut behind him.

He followed after her to one of the tables and slid into the seat across from her. There was still a happy, content smile on his face as he let out a soft, content sigh.

"Alright, so... after Arts Fest we celebrate by going go kart racing or something?" He asked with a grin. "Maybe we can get Lin and Charlie to go, although they'll make it into a competition and that's ahh..." Zeph gave a little shrug. "Never as much fun when it's a competition, ya know?"

He picked up a fry, biting into it as he kept chattering along.

"On uhh... lock-in, they made racing to the lit classroom a competition. I beat them, of course, 'cause I took the elevator. But then we got into this huge fight with balloons and stuff and I dunno, it was all just... they're fun, but they really do make everything into a competition."

mood
chilll

location
wherever da stella is

outfit
less gym clothes, more casual

playing...
We Like It

by Computer Games​

mentions
Howellin

interactions
Stella

tags
Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[hery]

MOOD: sigh

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Ash, Oates, Javi, Gen
INT:
ohdittoh (Trevor)
gh0stwriter (Lucky)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

Being talked down to by Trevor felt like sitting through a long-winded philosophy lecture, except this time he couldn't schedule a therapy appointment at the same time to get out of it. He let out a breathy sigh, his eyes darting around the hall and down to his phone, unable to suppress a face of mild surprise at the realization that this conversation had only been a few minutes. Those were minutes he could have spent in bed, or at the very least resting his eyes standing upright.

“Callum...?”

He looked up, feigning interest with Trevor's change in tone. "Hm?"

The slightly shorter boy (by stature, not posture—that was an important distinction to make) closed the distance between them. Callum stood unflinchingly rooted in place, lowering his—albeit miniscule—guard purely out of intrigue. Trevor was doing that heavy breathing thing again, which either signified another tiresome rant or that they were about to kiss.

And, before the skeletal boy had much of a chance to let his curiosity stew, the other boy offered a confident, resonating "Fuck you." In the split second before Trevor's propelled his hands into his chest, his dubious expression fell back into his trademark look of flat neutrality.

And then Trevor propelled his hands into his chest.

As though targeted by a steel girder, Callum's feeble body slammed into his locker with seemingly double the force Trevor had even put into his push. He let out a sharp grunt, a dull, aching sensation settling over his body. He crumpled forward, clutching his side in an attempt to ease the pain of having the wind knocked out of him.

His white, sickly form was practically composed of porcelain, and if he didn't know any better he'd have thought the impact of the metal locker had shattered his back. He watched with a wincing, slightly ticked-off glare as his maddened assailant stalked down the hall, as though he'd done something worthwhile. If he wanted to trouble himself like Ash's dickish, locker-headbutting savior, then more power to him.

Callum had practice to attend, and Oates was waiting on him.

Dancing in class tended to be a bit of hell, because half of his classmates hated his guts and the other half didn't know he existed. He stuck by his boyfriend for the most part, focusing the day's energy on their routine despite concealing a bruised shoulder from his metallic collision. Most of their rehearsing had been spent critiquing Oates' form, which was passable for a hobbyist dancer but not for the duet they'd be showing off to big-time scouts at the arts festival.

And then Oates said he needed to stop looking so sullen during his pirouettes and he called it quits for the day.

Not much of anything crossed his vacant mind as he shambled from class back to his locker, which he greeted with a cocked eyebrow at the realization that he'd mistakenly left it unlocked after his and Trevor's squabble. It came as a minor concern at most, considering he didn't have anything particularly valuable or important stored in the space. Important storage was strictly inside the piles of junk littered across his apartment.

He retrieved his book for English class from his locker, then promptly shut it and made sure to put the lock in place. As though directed by puppet strings, he trudged along with a lazy, dissociative demeanor, his soul only locking back into his body as he collided with another body.

The individual sent him an ice-cold glare, which would have normally disturbed him a little if his mental processes weren't failing due to fatigue. “Oh. Scream at any innocent girls today or are you resting your voice?”

He could easily tell what the guy (Larry? Tucker?) was referring to, but he couldn't wrap his head around why he was enduring another one of these confrontations before the morning had even reached its conclusion. Unlike Trevor, he couldn't recall anything about the boy beyond a hazy recollection of a face and perhaps a chance encounter or two online.

He readied himself to walk away, but the guy clearly wasn't about to just let him leave. After a roll of the eyes and another impatient sigh, he stuck his hands in his pockets and slouched, readying himself for a second go at Ash's army. Everything about this, down to the position of his feet gave him a dreadful, exhausting deja vu.

"Okay. Get it out of your system, if that's what you need." He shrugged defeatedly, watching the crowd in the hall disperse as the time for class drew near. "I don't think there's anything I could tell you to change what you want to do."

He cocked an eyebrow as an additional truth dawned on him. "Aren't you the guy that slept with that desperado at Gen's place?"

code by valen t.

 

[qunqun]

MOOD:
AHHHHHHHHHHHH

OUTFIT:
Something comfy sans a jacket

LOCATION:
School

basics

MENTIONS:
Chas
Mikaela
Landon



INT:
Ez geminiy

tags

TL;DR:
Nope

tl;dr

Auguste

Auguste wasn’t really the type to get into anyone’s business. He had his secrets, other people had theirs. Now, that’s not to say that if something intriguing just happened to drop into his lap, that he wouldn’t ask a few questions here and there, but for the most part he was pretty content to just keep his head low and try not to ruffle as many feathers as possible.

People tended to look at him, and get annoyed anyways. It didn’t happen as much nowadays, but… well, there was a reason why there was nothing in his locker but a bunch of wadded up parental notices for his recitals.

That being said… He glanced over at Chas who seemed to be getting angrier by the second. He turned the music up, trying to let the bubbling lumps in his throat go away. Yeah, it was Chas being an idiot (seriously, what kind of guy did Chas think he was, like he’d fuck Ez this early in the morning in an easily accessible area), but still… It was years of intense programming in him to either bash Chas’s face in, or roll over and go to his happy spot when confronted with conflict. And right now, rolling over and going to his happy place seemed to be the best course of action. He changed his music choice, put on some Offspring to quell his nerves, and began to intensely glare at the pieces of clay in his hands as he sanded. There. Not a ridge to be found.

He turned the piece over a few times in his hand, inspecting it in the light. Okay, that was good. He then looked back around at his surroundings. Some new faces - a girl and a guy… So that one was probably Mikaela. Auguste looked her up and down. He felt another small knot lodge itself in his chest. Chas’s tirade seemed even scarier now - more monstrous.

Not necessarily because he was scared of Chas in the conventional way.

He was unfortunately acutely aware that if Chas had met him no more than four years ago, Chas would’ve inevitably had to get a very good plastic surgeon. And that was very scary of a thought. Auguste had a pretty good handle on his temper nowadays, but what if Auguste let the reins go. He didn’t trust himself with that idea.

At least Ez could sit on him if Auguste let go of the reins and got angry enough to start fighting again. Ez wouldn’t get too fucked up - probably. Most likely.

Chas? What could Chas possibly do to him. Apparently his tooth got knocked out by that nice Charlie person. Auguste couldn't fight Chas. It would be a bloodbath, and Auguste had sworn never again. Never EVER again. And now there was another variable in the form of Mikaela and he just kind of wanted to go home now.

What if he suddenly went into another rage again and hurt her in the collateral of fighting Chas? Scary. Very very scary. Auguste ducked his head once more, even though he was done with the pottery piece, hoping to blend into the background. Don’t ask me questions. Don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me. Just stay on the other side of the room, don’t perceive me, and you’ll be safe.

He looked at the other new person, his head tilting just a bit. Oh. Taller than he was expecting. Landon, he believed. Guy seemed to have some shit luck, the blowup on Twitter and all that. He seemed pretty safe though, all things considered. Well. Safe as in Auguste was pretty sure that if he attacked Landon, the damage would be minimal. Like Ez.

Auguste decided very quickly that he liked Landon.

Auguste saw Ez approaching out of the corner of his eye, and he pulled the earbuds out of his ears again, the soft sounds of heavy drums and raging guitars still ringing out of the little white buds. He dipped his head at the praise, a soft little smile gracing his features.

Probably should definitely start talking to his therapist again, when he really stopped to think about things.

“Lead the way, mon frere” Auguste said, the easygoing tone back now that his friend was done being chewed out. He also kept a cap on his panic when he was actually talking to people, the less that needed to know about how bad the anxiety was, the better.

Though, most people already knew about his odd habit of being scared of everyone. He was pretty upfront about it… Usually it made people less aggressive with him. Though perhaps a bit condescending. He could handle some condescension though, if it meant keeping the peace and everybody safe from himself.

He followed, grabbing his jacket on the way out. He ducked inside, looking around the place at the various works that were around, some not quite finished, others only needing little brush ups here and there.

“There actually wasn’t anything I really needed you to do”‘

“I figured as much.” Auguste said, his soft spoken nature somehow mellowing out even more into a lulling tone. “Worked him up a little bit too much I suppose.”

Ez gave him some clay. Auguste could already see the future, with clay splattered against the walls… It would be fine. It was going to be great. He was a god among men. He could make a stupid mug or something. It was going to be fine.

It was not going to be fine.

“Aww, all work and no play?” Auguste asked, his lips curling into a sharp grin as he sat down. “What happened to ‘Ohhhh Auggie I want to get to know you on a personal level’”

He batted his eyelashes, mimicking Ez’s voice as he did so. Totally not trying to get out of pottery here. He looked at the clay, for a brief second, staring at the lump of clay blankly. He had absolutely no clue how to even approach this. He turned back to Ez with the grin once more.

“Though, I must say, we have to get you into the dance studio, yeah? I think it would be fun.” Auguste said, teasing. He did in fact remember the whole “broken ankle” story from before, he was messing around a bit though. “And the workaholics have to branch out with some of the new skills at some point.”

code by valen t.

 

[Winona]

Nathan Woods

Alright, Nathan was officially satisfied. Trevor had pissed him off for the last time with his comments about Evie being hot and how people probably wanted to fuck her, so Nate had naturally responded with his harsh words (really, they hadn't even been that bad), kicking his feet up, and this and that.

Nate was satisfied.

Really, Trevor should've known it was coming and really, he should've been glad that Nate was such a nice guy that he hadn't even punched Trevor like most guys probably would've.

If anything, Nate had been too nice.

The way that Trevor had to keep reiterating that they were doing great, and then would try to back it with some weak excuse that just made it sound like the opposite was enough to satisfy Nate in this petty little competition. Clearly, he hadn't the better relationship. Hell, anyone would be able to see that.

Normally, this wasn't something that Nate was really big about flexing on. But there was something about the way Trevor spoke that just made him feel the need to do so.

Nate gave a roll of his eyes as he plucked the joint back from Trevor after the loser's little rambling about trying to keep his vehicle in top condition. It was a fucking van. No amount of keeping it clean was going to keep it looking good and shit -- because it was a fucking van.

For a long moment, there was a peaceful silence in the van as Nate took a couple hits from the joint. It was almost pleasant as Nate slouched farther down into his seat until his one leg, which wasn't resting on the center console, was pressed up against the back of the driver's seat.

Finally, Trevor broke the comforting silence.

“So how’d it happen? The whole ‘you two gettin’ together’ thing?”

Nate was quiet for a moment as he looked at the joint pinched between his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed together as he studied it, and then he brought it back to his lips to take another hit. He exhaled as he again looked down at the joint, and then he finally held it back out to Trevor and started to speak.

"I, ah... Halloween." He started, his arms crossing over his chest as he nodded his head a bit. "We were dancing outside to the uhh... to the music, and I dunno... I couldn't keep it to myself anymore, and everyone had me convinced she felt the same way, so I told her I liked her. And she uhhh..." he sucked in a deep breath and reached up with a hand to ruffle his dark hair before his hand fell to his side. "She ran away. Said she couldn't do it."

At this point of weaving his little tale, Nate gave a small shrug as if it wasn't a big deal. As if it didn't hurt to remember that, and as if it hadn't actually hurt him at the time.

"So I flipped a bench. Took some pills Liv offered me. Went home with her. Woke up the next morning in Liv's bed to a text from Evie asking to talk." He pursed his lips together. His gaze was half-focused on the back of the driver's seat in front of him. That guilt, the kind of guilt that eat away at his stomach and made him feel like shit, was currently doing just that. Eating away at him as he remembered it.

"If you say shit about that -- about Liv Halloween night, I will fucking kill you."

Normally, this kind of comment would've been playfully made by Nate, if made at all. There would've been some kind of smile, some kind of chuckle, but at this? There was absolutely nothing. Nate's expression was still, his voice stone-cold and threatening as he spoke.

"Or I'll share your secret."

That was probably a better threat.

"Anyway, met her at this burger joint and she said she felt the same way. She was scared and shit because of how badly Dei hurt her, so we talked and..." Nate shrugged his shoulders again. "Decided to give the dating thing a try, and it's been going fucking great ever since."

Even if there were already secrets in their relationship.

"What about you? You said fair."

mood
weeeeed

location
parking lot

outfit
omg clothes

playing...
Ho Hey

by The Lumineers​

mentions
Evie

interactions
Trevor

tags
ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lydia Fox

She hated him.

Yes, their current relationship was in the state it was in because of her…at least her parents, but that didn’t give him the right to treat her like shit or to go around acting like he was God’s gift to the female race.

He was a joke. And it didn’t bother her one bit that what she had said had cut deep. How did she know? Cause she knew him. She knew Lin real well. At least she used to and it seemed that she knew him well enough that it was her turn to be a bitch.

“Hey, Lyd? Got a question for you.” Her eyes rose to his and a small smile formed. This ought to be good. What horrible thing would he call her? What pearl of wisdom was he going to expel out of his mouth this time? “You always this much of a fucking bitch?” How original. She let out a small chuckle. “Or are you just trying to impress me?” She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.

“Just trying to speak a language you can understand. I mean, you are dating Charlie now, aren’t you?” Her eyes narrowed. It didn’t bother her that he was dating. Not at all, but who. That bothered her. That pissed her off.

“Hope the answer to that question of mine turns out to be fuckin’ Leo DiCaprio, luhmao. Good luck getting skinned alive.”

And for the second time, the bastard got the last word. That was his MO. Never could stick around. Never could fight anything out. Just say what he wanted and walked away. Loser. She shook her head as she assessed the damage again.

He wasn’t wrong and that infuriated her more. She was going to be in trouble. Deep trouble. She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Hey Benny. Any chance you can pick up my car and take it to the shop?” She sighed. “And if you could not tell my dad until I have a chance to talk with him, that’d be great.” The conversation was quick. Benny had been her dad’s assistant for years. And that meant she’d gotten close and utilized his kindness and desire to rise to the top to her advantage.

“Thanks, Benny. I owe you one.” She hung up the phone and made her way toward the school. That’d buy her at least day. Hell, maybe the damage wouldn’t be too bad and she could cover it and her parents didn’t need to know. It was a long shot, but she wasn’t in the doghouse yet.

Her phone buzzed as she looked down. Dammit. Trish was behind on her Arts Fest project and wasn’t going to be able to complete the story for the newspaper. The girl was a waste of space. And if she wasn’t related to the dean, she’d have never let the little twit anywhere near the Chronicle.

She’d handle it. She always did. Now she had to find a music student and write a last minute article on top of finishing her own project. She assessed the halls. It had to be quick. But she knew it’d be near impossible. Everyone was busy. Everyone would be busy. Most people waited until the last minute.

She increased her pace down the hall. There had to be someone in the music room she could rope into or blackmail into letting her do a puff piece on them. Hell, it was great exposure and while she found it absolutely boring as hell, HA at shit like this up.

She looked into the room and glared. He was fucking everywhere. Lin. Again. She pulled open the door and stepped inside. It was tense. Their interactions as of late had been everything but lighthearted and wholesome, but she was desperate. And let’s face it, Lin needed all the help he could get.

She rolled her eyes as she walked further into the room. “Look, Trish backed out of a story last minute and I need to interview someone about the Arts Festival.” She said with a sigh. “So, if we could pretend we don’t hate each other for fifteen minutes, I promise I’ll make you look good. As much as I can anyway. I’m not a miracle worker.” She leaned on the desk and looked over at him.

“What do you say? I’m sure it’ll get Ricky off your back." She said plastering a fake, optimistic smile. Okay. That was a low blow but she wasn’t wrong and he knew that. Whether he wanted to admit it or not.

mood
pissed

location
the school parking lot

outfit
clothes duh

playing...
Kiss the Girl

by The Little Mermaid​

mentions
Evie, Dalton, Angel

interactions
Lin

tags

ohdittoh

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

Charming as the Devil
Jared Darrington

@He.went.2.Jared has set their status to:
Back to the grind. Now what do we have here?

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

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

@He.went.2.Jared has mentioned:
Maddie, Josie, Maggie

@He.went.2.Jared has interacted with:
Adri ( Winona ) Saint ( ohdittoh )

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Jared found Saint and Adri to be some of the more likeable people in this place. In fact of all the departments in this so called school the Plastic was his favorite, and not just because it was the one he managed to get tossed into. It had by far the most barrable people to be around in general. Most others were crazy, sickeningly sweet, stupid, or worst of all the unfathomable combination of the lot of it. Truly he'd lucked out in his opinion.

To be fair Jared kept to himself a lot. He didn't engage in a lot of the twitter nonsense because as a man from a law family background he understood the importance of written and spoken word. He understood the weight and the fact that NOTHING was gone forever once it was posted. He had in fact started files on his laptop of most of his peers with screenshots of the incriminating things they said. From the literal evidence of illegal activities i.e. Chas leaked Nate documents, admitting to dealing and taking illegal substances while underage all the way to just the personal threats like physical harm and even as far as the 'playful' death threats. Everything is a joke till it's brought up in a court of law.

Was he going to use all this? Most likely not but he was the type that would rather have the information and evidence ready at his disposal already then have to hunt for it later. Prep work beats overworking later. Plus these were L.A. future up and comers right? they all should be worth something at some point in the future and he might need a favor from them, or put them in their place. Sure some people were squeaky clean, but most of them were so soft a well placed intimidating glare could probably get him anything he wanted. That or some subtle manipulation by pulling the strings on those he did have dirt on.

To be fair they had no one to blame but themselves. They choose to put everything out there on a public domain after all. This wasn't the early 2000's where people didn't know about internet safety. They knew full well all the students had access to this and more. It would be a shame if the public or fans got a sneak peek at how their favorite celebrities actually acted.

Their only saving grace was he wasn't a vindictive person. No he wouldn't spill such great resources on a random Tuesday cause he's bored. Everything has to have a purpose and that purpose must benefit him in some way shape or form. So until then he will sit, observe, and collect.

Verbal stories like the pain in the neck one Saint and Adri were currently telling him about would've gone into his memory bank if he knew who the hell they were even talking about. He'd guess a freshman if he didn't believe that Adri would call anyone younger then her or at least looked younger then her a baby. He couldn't help but chuckle lightly at their distain. Finding a joint in this place was a dime a dozen, so it's not like it would be hard to replace. The time to smoke it however was the real loss. Now they'd have to wait till lunch unless they skipped. "I guess good entertainment is too much to ask for around here. Hard to find." He shrugged and straightened himself up off the locker.

He was a bit surprised at the whole, someone dared to kiss her thing. Who had that kind of audacity? Perhaps someone from another country? Had to be. Adri's resting bitch face couldn't possibly have looked inviting of any sort of advance. The girl was stunning, so he understood the draw, but she was vicious and it wasn't a secret. The vixen before him has it practically written on her face. Her aura should be enough to send weaklings packing.

Though enough about their crappy morning apparently they wanted to know about him? There wasn't much to say. "The usual. Mostly working. I almost forgot Seniors had to do something of their own, so while I helped Gen and Mike a bit here and there before shit hit the fan...I've been working on my own line." He casually explained. Even dropping in the tid bit about Mike and Gen nonchalantly as if it was nothing at all. Because it wasn't. If they were professionals they wouldn't let it interfere with their work, and if it didn't interfere with their work it didn't matter to him. Their personal lives didn't amount to much him. Sure he liked Gen, but if she wanted to get down in the mud with pigs and let them drag her good name, well that was her business. He'd be here when she got herself back on track.

Adri seemed to aiming at something more specific of course. He knew it was coming. While most people seemed to take him and Maddie with ease, he knew people like her would be a bit skeptical. Mostly due to his own reputation. Other then casually sleeping around with Simone which not many people even knew about...he didn't do relationships. While he flirted a lot especially with girls like Gen and Evie, he'd not actually slept with them. No, he only did so for fun with girls that weren't going to stick around. The only reason Simone had was because she proved to not be the clingy type, and was a respectable woman. They didn't really mix and mingle in each others lives, so she never tired to be more, which made her perfect.

Now he had to play the devoted boyfriend role. While he has nothing against Maddie...she simply isn't his type. He's known her all his life, and she's very sweet...but this was never something he imagined becoming a thing, so he understood how others who knew him decently would think the same. "We're great." He let a charming smile grace his lips. Faking a smile wasn't hard. He did it all the time. Looking inviting, and genuine came naturally. It's the best way for people to believe you and tell you anything you need to know. Put on the right face, the right voice, and a few sympathetic words, and voila most people are eating out of the palm of your hands.

This didn't apply to everyone, but it worked for most. For people like Adri the key was to not lie. Then you don't have to just seem believable because you are. He didn't need to oversell it like he was overly simping for her or anything because even if he really was into her and dating her for real...that's not how he'd act. Keep it calm, cool, natural, but fun and flirty. "I was actually just texting her when I got here about our next date." He smirked taking out his phone to check and see if she'd responded yet, but also to subtly showcase the fact he'd made a picture of them together his lock screen before opening it. "You know if you want to see for yourself just find yourself a plus one and come with us." He offered in his naturally silky smooth voice. Everything in life was about making the right move, sealing the deal.

If he could get Adri on board, then it'd be smooth sailing from here on out, "You know she'd love it." He added in noting that Adri knew just as well as he did that Maddie would want nothing more then for them to all get along, and hang out. That way it didn't sound like it was just for Adri's sake, or even just for his. But they were doing this for Maddie.

He turned his attention back to Saint, "What about you? Anyone managed to catch your eye lately?" He raised a brow. To his knowledge no one had since his break up with Josie, but in his book it was definitely time for him to start moving on from that. Josie was bad news anyways. He never spoke about it or his opinions of her to Saint, but the girl was maniac lil sisters best friend for a reason.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

Victoria Sterling​

Okay, so look, here was the situation as Victoria saw it: there were two weeks left until the Winter Arts Fest, which meant that there were two weeks to write this short story, edit it, and get it perfect…and do the same for four more stories. It was fine, it was okay, it was nothing that Tori couldn’t handle, but the thing was…Tori was notoriously bad at getting shit done. Yes, she worked on her stories during classtime and study hall — ahem, it was her senior year’s Arts Fest, hello? — but…

See, there was this little tantalizing something called procrastination, and God, was procrastination an amazing thing. Like, she could do so much when she should be doing something else, and it was so damn easy to do that so much instead of that should when she wasn’t under the constant, ever-watching eyes of Hollywood Arts staff. Last week, for example, she’d binge-watched the first two seasons of Guy’s Grocery Games, organized her closet, and written five chapters of ”Bad Boy on Ice” in the span of four or five days. Yeah, not to toot her own horn, but she knew how damn impressive that was.

But…well...the downside to being so productive on the wrong things was that, well, she wasn’t being productive on the right things.

Aka, her Arts Fest projects.

Aka, the things that pretty much her whole future career in literature hinged on.

But it was fine, you know — there was noooo need to tell Beth. Tori had this under control. After all, there was absolutely nothing that Victoria couldn’t handle, she assured you.

Taptaptap.

The black line beside her words slowly scooted its way across her screen as her fingers tapped out word after word after word of oh my God, fucking garbage. It all sucked. It was so uninteresting, so bland, and—

Tititi.

Let’s try this again.

She began to type once more, muttering aloud to herself. “The…sun…rose…slowly…over…”

But by the time she reached the end of the paragraph, that also sucked, and the delete buttom tititied again.

Frustratedly, she ran her hands through her hair. Okay, a little writer’s block was fine. It was nothing that she couldn’t overcome. She’d read somewhere before that it was, like, just a mental thing where your brain tried to, uh, keep you from being productive or something like that, which meant that all she had to do was focus, push past it, and all would be fine.

Taptap…tap…

She heard some scuffling near the room that Mikaela had gone into, and her typing slowed as her eyes flicked to check who it was.

“Ezra?” Tori mumbled to herself curiously, cocking her head as she watched the boy lead some other tall boy to…hm…where could they be going?

It felt important to know — much more important than, psh, writing what she’d promised herself to write and had to have perfect along with four other short stories by the end of next week, ya know.

Curiously, she stood from her laptop, folding it and sliding it into her backpack, which she then slung over her back, and she began to follow them, just kind of casually, you know.

Look, if it looked like she wasn’t supposed to be there, she’d leave, and she’d go back and (sigh) write, but…like, Ezra was a new kid, and what if the tall guy beside him was, she didn’t know, some kind of grr scary guy who just wanted to get him alone to dismember him or give him, like, drugs that’d fuck up his mind and make him a zombie, and Tori seeing them was his last hope or something? Yeah, that was a totally realistic situation, which meant that it was Tori’s duty to find out. You know, to prevent that happening.

(Oh, shut up. Look, she’d get the writing done eventually — in time eventually. This was just, like…a minor detour on that journey.)

She followed them all the way to a small room on the…art…hall? Oh, right, Ez was in visuals, so that made sense. Was the other guy doing a project with him? They disappeared through a doorway, and she stopped, tilting her head and straining her ears to listen to what was going on inside. Of course, they were concrete walls and she was a solid fifteen feet away from the door, so she couldn’t hear anything.

Slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, she walked to the doorway, and then she poked her head inside.

There sat Ezra, stooped over a pottery wheel, forming a pot with his hands. Beside him was the other tall boy, chatting about…something…? Yeah, Tori wasn’t paying as much attention to his words as she was to the pot.

It was…impressive, the way that he worked the clay. It was constantly changing, but with some sort of purpose, and she could feel that it had a kind of aim. She stepped into the doorway, leaning against the side and crossing her arms, a look of mesmerization on her face.

She was entirely entranced by the pot-in-progress, Ezra’s calculated hands, and just watching it all happen in such unity.

It was as if each move was pre-determined, like he knew every single thing to do. Which, duh, it was his artistry, it was what he was here for, but also…

Damn.

It was kinda hot.

mood
pottery? more like hottery— i’ll go now

location
the doorway of some art room

outfit
white & grey

playing...
be nice to me

by the front bottoms​

mentions
beth, auggie, & ezra

interactions
n/a

tags
geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

“Music has the power to soothe the savage breast” or some shit like that. That was what they said, wasn’t it? It was something along those lines, luhmao. But Lin…yeah, nah, Lin’d never really gotten that.

To Lindsay, music wasn’t so much relaxing as it was fucking exhilarating. Feeling the beat in his chest, feeling that beat moving through him to his fingertips, becoming the music onstage in front of thousands of people who were all staring at him, waiting for him to make some sort of mistake only for him to do it flawlessly? Yeah, that was what it was really like to be alive. The adrenaline, the heart beating, the stares, the clapping, yeah. Being in front of a crowd was part of it. But even when he was alone, singing the melody from his chest, going wherever the hell he wanted to go, doing whatever the hell the music and the notes compelled him to do in that moment? It felt fucking amazing.

It was different every time, and his creation was so temporary, especially when he practiced it. Every fuck up — but also every happy accident — was gone the instant that it was over. Tree fell and no one was there to hear it type shit. No one heard it except for him.

It felt deep, like he was experiencing something like what some sort of god felt when he’d created this world or made its people or some kinda shit like that.

But Lin didn’t really think of the deep that much, and he didn’t really appreciate his art shit in the moment.

See: present time, as his guitar pick slammed at the steel strings of his acoustic guitar and he tried to get through the chorus of his Arts Fest song without a voice crack.

“I will try tooo—” His voice cracked on the to, and he slammed his palm against his strings, jerking his head down in frustration. “Godfuckingshittymotherfuck!” he hissed through his teeth.

Attempt number he’d-lost-count, failed.

He closed his eyes, squaring his shoulders, and he drew in a deep breath and started tapping his right foot again. One…two…one, two, three, four…

“And I know that we’re holding out for better weather, and I can’t promise you that I’ll be—”

He heard something crack in the room, and he opened his blue eyes to see a figure in the doorway.

“Lydia?” His brows knit in irritation. Blegh, no one fucking wanted her. He strummed a chord on his guitar, staying seated in his little plastic chair but leaning forward. “Go awayyyy,” he sang, to no particular tune.

She rolled her eyes and walked further not the room. “Look, Trish backed out of as tory last minute and I need to interview someone about the Arts Festival.”

“So?”

She sighed. “So, if we could pretend we don’t hate each other for fifteen minutes, I promise I’ll make you look good,” Lydia said. “As much as I can anyway. I’m not a miracle worker.”

“You want me to talk in your stupid interview thing for your dumb paper?” Lin slapped his palm against his guitar strings, flopping back against his seat and grabbing onto the neck with his left hand.

“What do you say?” She plastered on a obviously-fake smile.

“Fuck no,” he answered quickly. “Bye-bye.”

“I’m sure it’ll get Ricky off your back,” she added.

Lin shot her a glare.

Why did she always have to bring his goddamn fucking old man into this? Because she knew to use it against him?

What a fucking bitch.

He looked down at his guitar, his brows tugging together.

There was one thing to be said about Lin — he wore his emotions on his sleeve. When he was happy, you could tell. When he was angry, you could tell. And when he was deep in thought, you could pretty much see the cogs turning behind his blue eyes.

Kinda made it look like there wasn’t too much going on behind them, but whatever.

Lydia’s paper wasn’t a big big thing, but it was big enough, and Lin’s dad was constantly on his back about his PR or whatever the fuck. Not to mention that Prick’d been shoving Arts Fest down his throat for the past…uhh…since lock-in?

As much as Lin hated to do anything for fucking Lydia Fox, his ex-whatever-the-hell-they-were…this was an opportunity.

Plus, how could a little more clout hurt?

Strumming another chord on his guitar (E Major), Lin sang, “Fiiiine.” He stood up, holding his guitar by the neck as he pulled the strap from off himself. “Whatever ya wanna do. But shut the door. Can’t have anyone coming in and stealing my moment. Or catching me with you.” He sat the guitar down on top of its leather case, which was seated right beside his chair. “You got any idea what that would do to my reputation, luhmao?”

He walked over to a table, and he launched himself on top of it. He put his palms beside him, leaning back on them and flopping his head back to look at the ceiling. He kicked his legs, quiet for a second. “If you want my intro or whatever…” He lowered his head to look at her. He waved at her, forcing a bright smile. “Hiiii, I’m Lindsay Kay. I write songs that fuckin’ slap, and I’m here being interviewed by Chlamlydia. Boutta answer some bullshiitake questions, so stay tuned, luhmao.” He cocked his head at her, his smile shifting into his trademark crooked, toothy grin. “How’s that for an intro?” he asked, and then he cackled.

“So what kinda shit do you want me to spew at you that’ll redeem me in the oh-so-fucking holy eyes of Pricky Assbirth, luhmao?” His voice had the cocky, flat tone of someone who was done with a conversation before it even started — mostly because he was a person who was done with this conversation before it even started. He crossed his legs, criss-cross applesauce, and then he put his elbows on the side of his knees, propping his chin up in his palms. “I’m all mouths. I’ll tell you anything you want, luhmao, as long as you hurry the fuck up. I got things to do, Lydlydlydie.”

mood
fine whatever

location
a music room

outfit
lookin normal for once

playing...
all i do is win

by dj khaled​

mentions
n/a

interactions
lydia

tags
gh0stwriter

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ohdittoh]

saint andrew taylor

As soon as Adriane mentioned Jared and Maddie, Saint recalled: oh yeah, Jared and Maddie were dating. It struck him as odd. To be honest, Saint figured that it was probably more of a strategic move on Jared’s part than anything, but he, ever the passive one, did not really enjoy prying and had no real interest in finding out what was happening in regards to the specifics of Jared’s motivations. They were best friends, yes, but Saint’d learned that people told him what they wanted to tell him and pretty much nothing else, so unless he had a vested, personal interest in learning anything from anyone, he never really asked about it, and it was this way even with those close to him.

“We’re great,” Jared answered to Adriane’s question of how they were doing, and he flashed a smile.

“That’s nice,” Saint said. “I’m glad that everything’s going well between you so far…” He spoke casually, in that way he always did — slow, thoughtful, trailing off more than actually punctuating his sentence which made him sound like he left off halfway through a thought.

“I was actually just texting her when I got here about our next date.” He pulled out his phone with a smirk. Saint noted that his phone’s lock screen was a photo of them together.

Just like Saint used to have as his lockscreen when he and Jo were together — a photo of him, wearing a rare smile, and Jo, wearing the one that always seemed to be present on her face.

Shit.

He felt some sort of drop in him — a small flicker of that feeling that he’d been getting far more often since the lock-in.

Nostalgia? An ache? Just…wanting her back? It was something. Something small, something dumb.

Something easily dismissible.

That was nothing. It was nothing.

Saint reached up and rubbed his neck, his eyes darting away from Jared’s phone to look at some bystanders as his friend spoke with Adriane. He worked his jaw slowly, running his tongue along the back of his teeth to press his thoughts from his mind. They were intrusive, distracting, and unneeded. He was over Jo — their hook up at lock-in had just been them reminiscing, revisiting their past, but he was over her. He didn’t care about her.

If she came up to him right now and apologized — said that she wanted to take everything that had happened between them back — then he wouldn’t bat an eye. He would just take her back and kiss her, and everything would return to normal.

But Saint wasn’t dumb enough to have that fantasy — and he wasn’t caught up on her enough to even entertain that thought for longer than a few seconds each time it came up.

“What about you?” asked Jared, and Saint drifted out of his thoughts.

He turned his head towards Jared. “Hmm…?”

Jared poised up a brow. “Anyone managed to catch your eye lately?”

Josie.

The thought came into his mind before he could push it from it.

Josephine Bennett.

But that was — that was just his nostalgia talking.

He wasn’t interested in Jo, and he…

He…he had no interest in her whatsoever.

“No,” Saint answered, giving his head a slight shake to emphasize his answer. His lips pressed into a line. “The pool is thinning out…at least, the good options are. Everyone that’s worth anything is already dating someone or has no interest in dating at all…so no, not really.”

That was a good enough answer.

He looked over at Adriane. He’d assumed that she was one of the latter, which meant that him asking her was probably something akin to offensive, so he opted more for a different topic of conversation. “How are y’all’s festival products coming along?”

Certainly, it was a drier line of conversation, but it made it easier to converse with someone who wasn’t someone who he usually associated with.

mood
talking

location
the lockers

outfit
flowers

playing...
god's plan (drake cover)

by our last night​

mentions
maddie & jo

interactions
adriane & jared

tags
Winona Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Kitsune2202]

Dangerously Soft
Amethyst Jones

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their status to:
Where can the good girls go to hide away~

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their outfit to:
Body lookin like Milk

@If.U.Seek.Amy has set their location to:
School (Cafeteria)

@If.U.Seek.Amy has mentioned:
Dei, Remi, Hunter

@If.U.Seek.Amy has interacted with:
Ava ( Winona )

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Once the game started up and they got into the sing of their first fight it was sort of hard to maintain focus on fighting as well as holding the conversation. She also wasn't one to usually do a whole lot of talking while gaming unless it was a co-op strategy type game where that's needed. This didn't really require much planning because both girls had played before so the coordination would come naturally once they fell into the right attack pattern rhythm.

When ava died for the first time and started mumbling under her breath Amy giggled on the inside. She didn't wanna do it outwardly because she didn't wanna seem like she was laughing at her friend, but also the split second timing required for this unreasonably difficult game meant she couldn't afford the time that'd cost her which would mean she'd just follow soon after. While this was just for stress relief a game was a game, and Amy played to win always. While she didn't have the same competitive spirit level as say...Lin. She did still have quite a bit for things like this. Especially a game she's beaten so she knows she can do it.

However sitting here playing with Ava, in between boss fight grabbing a fork full of food or a sip of her drink really made her feel...at home. Like Home-home not the apartment. Not that she didn't love living with her friends, and it was the family she chose...but her original home before all this fame madness. She remembered playing games like this with her middle school friends not having a care in the world other then making sure to maintain her grades to keep her parents satisficed. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to do now. They were content, but they didn't look at her with pride anymore. This simple pass time made her feel like her normal self. The Amy she seemed to keep trying to kill off one way or another. This was the closest she'd felt to her true self in over a year.

She'd of course died too because as she mentioned she was pretty rusty. The only think bringing her out of her thoughts were when Ava responded. "Well not everyone, just a select few. The best performances is how it's advertised." She Explained. Amy was a bit surprised because she figured everyone knew about the tour. It was the big incentive at least for the music dept. students to try their absolute hardest. As Ava's joke Amy just laughed a bit nervously offering her an apologetic smile and shrug, "Hey the fashion and Arts dept. get showcases too." She added with a giggle, "It's only dance and Lit. that get treated like the middle child." She joked teasingly since of course Ava was a part of the Lit dept. Plus no one said jokes can't be true. In fact most are to an extent.

It didn't really surprise her to hear that Ava didn't listen to a lot of the student's music. To be fair if it's outside of her preferred genre she could understand. She mostly listened because it was good to know the competition, and also most where friends so she enjoyed hearing them. Take that away and she wouldn't really much either. She was surprised however to hear Ava say how good she thought she was. She didn't think Ava listened to her music. It caused a faint blush to cover her cheeks at the thought, "Thanks!" She chimed happily. It was a nice boost to her confidence. The same Confidence Dei helped her to built he helped tear back down. She was only pretending it was still there at this point because well...she knew in her head it was right. She knew in her head she was super talented, beautiful, and kind...in her heart though? She had doubts.

Part of her really wanted to make that tour because she wanted to prove that to herself again. She wanted to show herself she was cut out for this and she was as talented as anyone else, even more so! There was a little spit too. She want to show Dei she could do it on her own. She could be on her own and do bad all by herself. Not that he cared. Only the version of him that still lingered in her head did. She heard he was coming back from tour and she expect him to be back all over Evie or anyone rather who struck his fancy for the day. She told herself she was over it enough. That it didn't matter because it shouldn't. Only time would tell though.

Her phone buzzed in between fights and she checked them from time to time. She didn't wanna bother with Twitter anymore today but speak of the devil of course it's him and of course he is raising hell. Already getting in a fight. Why she was trying to help stop it? She didn't know. What did it matter if Evie's little brother or her cheating EX got their face kicked in? This was Evie's problem. Her drama, her bad karma. It had nothing to do with her anymore. She messaged Hunter a bit and even he agreed. She had Remi now...she needed to focus on the good that could happen, and not get drowned in the past.

She was emotionally done with today, and even though technically it was kinda on a high note since her and Charlie worked things out and Remi confessed to apparently loving her...it was still just too much. I mean...love? That was serious. Sure she's liked him for what felt like forever, but like he said it's always been bad timing as in one of them was always dating someone else. In a way Remi had been everything she thought she saw in Dei. Every gesture, the bold and charming personality. However for everything positive they had in common, that only made her more terrified of any negative traits they could share too. Was she ready to date someone right now? It's only been a couple months since the split and she was still really emotional and hurt over that. And now he's back? Then again maybe that's exactly what she needs? A new focus. Was that ok? Was that right? She didn't know anymore.

Her straying thoughts cost her several more lives in the game resulting in an exasperated sigh and pinching the bridge of her nose. Focus. She needed to focus. "Sorry let me just" She paused the game to silence her phone. "That's better." She hummed and continued on. Nope nothing else was going to help ruin her day. This was fun, this was what she wanted. So no more twitter till after lunch!

Falling back into the rhythm of play she finally answered her original last question, "Yah. I feel like I've let all this stupid drama distract me. I wanna release my first full album by the end of May if I can. I mean I've got like 7 songs released already, and I've got more I've written, I just need to get them recorded." She could've released an EP if she'd thought about it. but it would've just sounded like she was sour. She was but she didn't want that to be her entire image you know? Her heart and mind where a mess right now, but that didn't mean her schooling and career had to be. "Maybe shoot a music video or two. Those are always fun." She giggled as they beat another boss. They made a good team when she wasn't distracted.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[PenguinFox]

MOOD: Excited and Nervous

OUTFIT: Navy blue zip up hoodie, black skinny jeans, royal blue high top converse on left foot, maroon high top converse on right foot

LOCATION: School Courtyard

basics

MENTIONS:
AkuTheWolfOkami
INT:
AkuTheWolfOkami

tags

TL;DR Newt's brain bounces from idea to idea, thought to thought

tl;dr

Newt

I look good today; self care, green hair. Looking cute today.

Newt's mismatched eyes snapped open at the sound of a voice, a small hint of red making it's way to his cheeks, before dissipating just as fast at seeing the source of the voice. Anyone that knew Newt at all knew that he had a tendency to drum anytime, anywhere. It was the constant motion that his brain craved. If he wasn't drumming in some way he still wouldn't sit still; finger tapping and leg shaking were most common. If Newt happened to be sitting still than it was likely that he was spacing out.

"Hey K" A wide grin spread across Newt's face as the two exchanged a fist bump. "Stoked to be free again. What's new with you?" he dug around in his backpack and pulled out a package of mini donettes. He had taken to carrying snacks around with him at all times because of the several occasions where he forgot to eat real meals. "You said you wanted snacks and BAM. Newt delivers. Do you love me? Or do you love me?" A light hearted laugh fell from his lips as he absentmindedly twirled his stick in his hand.

As quick as the smile rose to his face it dropped and he was ready to get down to business. "So...major project. Effecting our whole lives maybe...no pressure right?" Newt tried to produce a reassuring and confident smile but one that was clearly anxious and half hearted appeared instead. "Honestly, anything we come up with works for me...except country anyway. But anything else and I'll put a fire beat behind it." he paused for a moment, the look in his eyes giving away the fact that his mind was racing. "OH WHAT IF I SET MY DRUMSTICKS ON FIRE AT THE SHOW?" his voice subconsciously rose at the excitement of his idea. "That would look soo cool! I can also do like...y'know backing vocals or whatever...and maybe some bass if you give me a buncha redbulls and a couple of sleepless nights."

Newt was terrible when it came to making decisions; especially important ones. He got analysis paralysis quite easily. If Kayla was willing to make all the important decisions on this project, he was more than happy to do the hard manual work. This was the case in many things in his life; for example if he was to help someone move he'd lift whatever he was told to and put it down wherever he was instructed. "What kinda ideas were you thinking?...Ooh, can we use one of those...uhh....the things that record snippets and then loop them? That way we could do multiple different things live just the two of us!" a proud grin spread across Newt's face at his idea. He hadn't ever used a loop station before but had always wanted to. The thought of being able to play multiple instruments at once was fascinating. Almost as if to test his limits he wanted to see how much he could do at once...not at the Arts Fest though. That was a risk he was not willing to take.

The more he started to talk about it, the more Newt was getting nervous about the Arts Fest. Despite what his friends and family kept telling him he still didn't entirely believe in is talents. He had never even done any kind of major performing. Yeah, he played at a few parties and whatnot but he hadn't professionally done anything before. This fest was going to be his musical debut so to speak. Newt's thumb found it's way to his mouth, almost poking his own eye out with his drumstick in the process, and he started chewing at the corner of it. A nervous habit of his. His leg also began twitching as he looked back up to Kayla for her answers, his eyes only half focused as his mind began to drift.

code by valen t.

 

[Kitsune2202]

"Focus on me, I'm about to blow them all away"
Stella Bailey

@Steller.Bae has set their status to:
Just another day

@Steller.Bae has set their outfit to:
Petite cutie

@Steller.Bae has set their location to:
School (Cafeteria)

@Steller.Bae has mentioned:
Lin, Charlie, Mike

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph ( Winona )

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Stella was ecstatic that he seemed to like her idea. She remembered how happy he had been at the fall fair and she had told him that they should do more things like that from now on. She wanted to keep her word to him in hopes that he'd always feel like he did that day. She wanted them to have fun, even though she was sure she'd never be as fun as Lin was to him. Still in her own kinda way she wanted that feeling from that day to last.

Err except maybe the ending awkward part. Though they were dating now so if she decided to lean over for a kiss now that shouldn't be an issue. They'd only been dating a few weeks, so PDA was still small, though she had to say he was much shyer then her last previous boyfriends had been about it. Usually guys were very touchy with her, but Zeph kept it comfortable and casual. It was something to be appreciated even if new.

The sparkle in his eyes at the mere mention of Lin and Charlie coming along was expected, but still weird to her. Not that she'd let that show on her face. Who got more excited about double dating with someone then actually going on the regular date with the person you were with. He was a weird one, but she told herself she didn't mind that either. Zeph was just a different kind of guy then she was used to dating is all. Great best friend, weird boyfriend. Weird didn't have to mean bad though, and so she kept the same light smile on her lips the whole time not wanting to dull his excitement even if she didn't get it.

"Vanilla...and Beaver ass?" she repeated very confused and slightly under her breathe. Was he really about to skip over that like he didn't just say that nonsense? For the first time her face broke character and showed her absolute confusion and slight worry...because WHY. Why was that a topic of conversation? Guys were so freaking weird she swears to god. She physically shook her head a moment and put her hand up, "Actually no, never mind. Don't tell me a thing about that." She figured some things were better left unsaid and between them. Couples didn't need to share EVERYTHING.

They made their way outside and she felt instantly better with the soft breeze and fresh air on her face letting her smile slowly return. Once they were seated she instantly started munching away happily at her food because she really was starving. Well she felt like it anyways. Plus putting as much distance between now and that weird statement from before was nice.

She listened to him talk about what a date with Lin and Charlie would be like and honestly it sounded like a lot. And not entertaining a lot, just childishly extra. A constant competition sounded tiresome, but if that's what he wanted she could suck it up for a date or two. "Sounds like a plan to me, but uh..." She trailed off a bit lightly biting the inside of her lip, "Maybe our first going out somewhere to do something date should just be just the two of us?" She asked a bit tentatively. Sure if he wanted them to come along and they wanted to she would relent because go karts would be more fun with more people. However...the idea of multiple dates like that? Nope. "But after I'd love for them to come." She added to save grace a bit.

She had a taste of Lin's competitive nature at the lock-in as well. That race was not winable, and she was so tired by the end of it. She didn't like losing and she didn't like making bets she couldn't win and Lin was a recipe for both. However she giggled hearing that he outsmarted them by simply using the elevator. Perhaps she should've done something similar, but she wasn't thinking much on it. "That sounds like you had a lot of fun, but it also sounds like just a lot of energy in general." She giggled.

She had so many questions every time Zeph told her a story that involved him and Lin. Like where did they get balloons from? However she didn't actually care enough about the answer to bother ask it, but the questions zoomed around her heard regardless. "I'm glad you had such a good time though. I mostly just skated around looking of Landon and Maddie. I never found Landon... turns out it was cause of all that drama." She shrugged. She wasn't sure how much Zeph knew about all that, but it felt like the whole school knew. "I think he'd gotten hit by Mike which of course pisses me off cause that's now the second friend of mine Mike's laid a finger on." She huffed in irritation.

While in hindsight she probably shouldn't talk about Mike to Zeph since she wasn't sure how much he was over the whole him and Ronnie thing. However couples should talk about everything right? That and he was bound to find out things right? Mike sadly has decided to be bolder and bolder both in person and online. "I swear if he comes up to me again to talk shit I'm going to kick him where the sun don't shine." She hummed putting a fork full of food in her mouth. Mike had one more time to talk shit or flirt with her to get hit. She didn't know how Zeph would react if he was was ever ON when Mike said the things he did, but considering he was a pretty passive dude she didn't expect much. Between the two of them she was certainly the aggressive one. Plus apparently hitting people didn't get you in any trouble since Charlie is still walking around fine.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Avery Ohtani

"Aveerrrrrryyyyy,”

Oh no. The blonde boy remembered his name, but he couldn’t remember his. This was going from bad to worse.

He was certain it started with a C…

“We’re just a hangin’, ya know, no big dealio.”

C, C, C… Carlos? Or was is Casper after all?

Hmmmmmm…

Dealio? No that wasn’t his name. What was a dealio?

“Avery, are you high?”

Huh? What?

Bella’s words broke off his train of thought and Avery stared at her, face scrunched up and head cocked to the side as the words rolled around in his head.

Was he high? High how?

Everyone seemed to be talking weirdly today.

What did she mean high? Her words weren’t making any sense. Did she mean his height?

“I’m average I think…”

5’8 was average height, right?

“Give me back my journal, Casey, I clearly have more pressing matters to deal with.”

Journal… Casey… matters

Ohhhh! That’s what his name was! Casey! Now he remembered.

"Yo, yo, yo, he's just high on life or somethin',"

High on…life?

High on life…

He didn’t get it. Today was very confusing. He just didn’t seem to be able to follow anything all that well today.

High on life, how did one get high on life? Was life short form here for a list of some sorts? Like “List of incredibly fast eaters” or something. He was a slow eater though so that wouldn’t make sense and Casp – Casey didn’t know his eating habits.

“Hey, how do you get – ” Avery stopped himself short of finishing his sentence. He’d nearly made another mistake. Addressing Casey by saying “Hey” instead of his name, that was rude, especially since they had only met once before. He’d already made multiple mistakes with Adriane and Saint earlier and he was lucky that they were willing to give him so many chances, but he couldn’t just be out here making mistake after mistake and hoping that he would be forgiven.

Luckily for him, his mistake didn’t seem to offend Casey, or maybe the other boy just hadn’t heard him because he started to talking, to Bella it seemed.

“Listen, I read a lil bit,” he held up two fingers, making a pinching motion to show just how little he'd read, "that much. It's good, ya know? Well ya probably do know, since you're at this school for real good writing and stuff. Anyway..."

Two fingers…so…

“You read two pages?” He asked slowly and absentmindedly, not entirely understanding what was happening at the moment. “Two pages of what?”

The book fell back into his line of vision and for a few seconds he just stared, until it clicked. A book, good writing, pages. The confusion left his eyes and his mouth opened wide in understanding.

“Oh. That book that you’re holding.” He stared long and hard at it from where he stood.

Was it a notebook like the one he kept? Where they put in their own notes and understandings of the various things they encountered?

Avery was on the verge of asking when Casey spoke first.

“Oh! Ya know what makes poems real good?”

Poems. He wasn’t very good at them. Avery found them as hard to write as he did to understand them, all the metaphors and personification, the different techniques they used, he often struggled to follow what they were saying. Casey’s question wasn’t really one he knew the answer to. He didn’t know the first thing about writing poems let alone what made them good. Casey certainly seemed like he knew what made poems real good so maybe he would finally learn that today.

“Music. A sick, ya know? Maybe a,”

Music. That was the only thing Avery understood from what Casey said. He had no clue what it was the boy was doing with his one free hand, waving it around in indecipherable gestures as he spoke. Whatever else it was that he was saying, Avery had no clue either, and his slightly furrowed brow reflected his confusion.

As he followed the movements of Casey’s hands, everything else started to move with them as well. The hallway seemed to shift and tilt, and he found himself struggling to keep his balance as his unsteady steps took him stumbling into the wall. He pressed his palms and leaned his body against it for support as everything continued to tilt and move in odd, gravity defying ways around him. Bella and Casey and everyone else in the vicinity were somehow standing perfectly fine without needing any kind of support even though the hallway was tilting. It was like the soles of their feet were glued to the floor.

Was this magic? Maybe the poem was like a kind of spell and Casey was a wizard, casting it with the movement of his hands and the music was something that would amplify the power of the spell.

A spell that made people sick. He was certainly starting to feel sick again standing in this tilting hallway. Avery closed his eyes, but that uncomfortable spinning sensation just wouldn’t go away.

“Can you…” He couldn’t even form his words properly as his breathing started to grow a little haphazard from that familiar feeling of nausea that had struck him earlier in the day after one of his classes. “Can you make…the spinning…stop?” He asked weakly, eyes staying closed as he tried to keep himself from puking all over the hallway floor and walls.

mood
Everything's spinning

location
School

outfit
preppy school boy

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
Adriane, Saint

interactions
Bella, Casey

tags
Winona geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[AkuTheWolfOkami]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  depressed, tired, and frustrated.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  https://i.imgur.com/r51rDMO.png

  jacket, grey sweats, black graphic t, black dallas mavs fitted cap, chains, bottom grill, watch, oreo 4 jordans

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  downtown loft on the way to school
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  PenguinFox
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Kaash

depression

When Newt greeted her, she managed to offer a slight grin as she met his fist with her own. She loved the fact that he was always drumming that he was always on to the next thing. Though she was apathetic about most things, the things she cared about she lingered on for way too long, and she envied Newt’s ability to change thoughts quickly. She couldn’t say if this applied to all parts of his life, but it sure did feel like it.

She took a seat across from him, setting her back pack down at her feet and moving to look through bag for her laptop and sat it out. She looked up to him when he said he was glad to free, thinking back to his injury and chuckling mostly to herself,

“All healed up and ready to rock yeah? But I’m cool, just trying to take it day by day, feel me?”

She smiled large which showcased the bottom fangs (a grill encrusted in diamonds on platinum) she had, before watching him take out the donettes. This is why Newt was one of her favorite people in the world. He always came through in the clutch.

“Newt, you always pulling through for ya girl. And that’s why I love and appreciate you,”

she stated with a laugh pulling out a small towel, before popping that bottom grill out of her mouth and resting it in the towel. She took a bottle of hand sanitizer out and rubbed her hands in it before sliding it close to Newt. It wasn’t that she was very sensitive about germs, but she did what she could when she was around others to keep them both safe and not sick.

She pulled open the pack and took one out and pushed it into her mouth in the meanwhile listening to him speak. She had learned to let him go through his thoughts and get them out and besides, that meant she had time to get yet another tasty snack. Her eyes got wide as she blinked a few times when he suggested setting his drumsticks on fire. That would be aesthetically pleasing, but it would kind of be jumping the shark, wouldn’t it? Maybe she should put that under more consideration and shook her head to get herself out of her own thoughts, before looking back to him.

Ok. Back up vocals would be cool, though that meant composing a new song and her muse just hadn’t been there for new songs. Not songwriting at least. Which kind of sucked because her album wasn’t done, and she was trying to have it by her birthday which was in January. Yeah. That was a lofty goal at this point, and it wasn’t going to happen.

She had zoned out again for a bit, but his most recent idea had caught her attention. She reached back into her backpack and brought out both a drum machine, and a drum pad. She moved her hands to get everything set up and looked over the mini studio she had created in the courtyard, ”Ok, so my favorite little Salamander, you are brilliants. That is a fantastic idea.” Her mind was racing as she loaded up her computer and then the appropriate software,

“Ok. So we come up with a song, live. I think it’s called live looping. Take a few days and get our chemistry together. You know, practice a few songs and get it in our mind what the other one does, and how to build off it. It doesn’t have to be a million instruments. I can sing, make beats, and play the sax so I’m sure with your drumming ability we can come up with something good.”

Her muse was slowly starting to creep back which was the great thing about working with a partner, though there were other cons. She could only shrug her shoulders to those thoughts as she looked over to her phone vibrating. It was elder cousin, Yella, calling for who knew what reason so she ignored it and put her phone on DND before looking back to Newt to get his reaction.

♡coded by uxie♡