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Jace & Ash



Jace's nasally, whining voice that tended to crack on the higher syllables was nothing new to Ash -- after all, they had grown up together, and Jace did tend to get worked up over the smallest of things. However, since the move to LA (and with them now living apart), the number of times that she found Jace yelling at her had been reduced to... oh... a nice never. She didn't want to deal with this.

She didn't want to deal with Jace, and she didn't want to deal with Dorian. It was too early in the morning and the alcohol, no matter how little she had ingested, was working to throw off her ability to handle this. She'd already started to gain a headache thanks to stupid Dorian, but now Jace wasn't helping.

Of course, what else was to be expected from Jace? He'd spent the morning being beaten by basically everyone -- but the last person, the one that had actually caused blood to drip down his face, had been brought about by none other than one of Ash's stupid little friends.

Naturally, Jace wasn't about to take any kind of blame for what had happened -- after all, he wasn't at fault for the uncalled for attack by one Lin Kay. He hadn't even offended his sister on lock-in. That had been all Callum's fault, and although it wasn't like there was any proof that that was the reasoning behind the attack, well... Jace wasn't stupid. He knew it had to do something with that and the fact that he was receiving the brunt for what Callum had done?

It was wrong.

"Jace, I don't--" Ash started, but her words were cut off by a roar from behind Jace.

"The fuck was that?!" came the voice, and Ash peeked around Jace to see none other than Javi storming his way down the hallway towards them. Her eyebrows creased together in confusion as to, well, why he was yelling at Jace -- not that she minded, because at least it took Jace's attention off of her.

"Ever heard of a fucking apology?" Javi spat, and then his hands were sent into Jace's chest, and the skinny blonde boy stumbled backwards.

"Apologize for what?" he whined as he caught himself. His lip curled up in disgust and annoyance as he (rather stupidly) stepped back towards Javi. But hey, Jace was riding the annoyance of being punched, and his face was throbbing, and he always tended to be a little mouthier when Dorian was around, because he didn't have to worry about being beaten up... usually. If someone did try to put their hands on him, they would be answering to Dori.

Also, people generally liked Dorian, so they didn't usually start things with Jace when he was present. Didn't want to make him mad or whatever it may be, but Jace happily took it. There were so many cool benefits to being friends with popular, well-liked people, and this was one of those.

"And what're you talking about, huh?"

That question wasn't directed at Jace -- instead, it was directed at Ash and Dorian, and this peaked Jace's curiosity. "Yeah," he piped up, "what're you guys talking about?"

"I ahh... nothing, just school... stuff..." Ash responded, her words unsure as she spoke.

"Do you two dickheads have nothing better to do than to put down good people?" Javi asked, which just earned a glare from Jace, and then he had the audacity to look down at Ash, as if she was the one that needed help here and not to answer for her crimes. "Are they causing trouble for you?"

"No. I-I... no, we're... we're not," Jace answered for her. He took another testy step forward, because again, Jace tended to be a little more ballsy in the presence of Dori -- and he was just pissed at everyone assuming that Ash was helpless or whatever it was. "This... this... has nothing to do with you. Go... just, just... just go, mind your own business, huh?" He said and even had the audacity to poke a bony finger into Javi's chest.

Ah, yes.

Jace. Master of doing the completely wrong thing.





playing...
song

by singer​




interactions
Javi & Dori






 
Last edited:




































  • how she's feeling...



    overwhelmed and frustrated, but fabulous

















Kinni



Freshman(15)-Fashionista-Goddess













Kinni knew she grew up on a farm. She knew she mainly spoke pidgin and a couple of pacific island languages (Tongan, Samoan, Tagalog + Conversational Japanese). She knew that she proper English was never her forte, but the difficulty in which she was having with this English paper was absurd. Speaking proper English? Ignoring her mangled accent (it’s a mixture of Southern (Atlanta) and whatever accent Native Hawaiians had) she spoke proper English very well. Yet for some reason, this English essay that she was tasked with writing to help supplement her missed assignments was feeling impossible.

She groaned as rocked her chair back in the middle of her literature class. It was mostly empty – since the teacher had allowed them to use this time to work on their projects, not limited to the class but whatever they needed to complete. Though Kinni herself chose to stay so she could try to focus. Since she still had to do the paper for this class. What was even the assignment? Oh nothing, just a ten-page essay on The Alchemist. What specific topic did Kinipela choose? Identity and self-recognition – comparing the MC’s journey to real life’s journeys.

At the time she came up with the topic she thought it was brilliant. Then it would be easy, because what she connected with so much was that she felt it mirrored her own life. That all sounded brilliant on paper until she was ready to introduce pen to paper. Well, metaphorical pen and paper. In actuality she was tapping her recently and perfectly manicured light pink acrylic nails across the keyboard of her macbook pro. This felt like such a waste of time for her. When she got into the school, she figured it would build her towards her career. A more formal training that could either propel her towards a top fashion school, or just springboard her already moderately successful career.

She had already had a fashion line that was doing decent, ignoring the line she had with Nike, but getting her own backed by LVMH was the goal. Oh lord that was the goal and she could taste it. Yet here she was working on this paper when she could be working on a new design. It wasn’t like she would be writing articles or papers about fashion. Nope. She was going to be the one written about!

She lout a loud groan of frustration, opening up her browser to go tweet about her issues.

im convinced english is the hardest language in the world



It was such a simple tweet that was met with some resistance, though she did have some support. Either way, it ended up with Beth offering her assistance. Well, not directly so. She more so ridiculed Kinni by implying she wasn’t trying hard enough and following it up with ‘but did she ask for help.” So she did that. She asked Beth for help, into which she agreed to.

Ok, that was good then. Maybe she would make actually some progress with this paper for a change. Or maybe it was just going to be the same ole same ole. Either way, it gave her an excuse to leave out of the classroom which was bringing her down at the moment. She took a moment to close her laptop and slide it in her bag. First stop was to order starbucks on doordash. Of course she had a complicated order and of course Beth’s was simple, but she didn’t care. She just refused to drink black coffee from Starbucks. It was nothing compared to the coffee beans that her family harvested and nothing compared to the macadamia creamer they made. The complicated order was the least she could do to make it enjoyable.

Once she stopped through the bathroom, doing a makeup and outfit check after washing her hands, she met the delivery driver at the courtyard before moving into the library and finding a seat away from the busier parts of the library. They would be distracting if it was close to her and that’s one thing she could not afford.












































♡coded by uxie♡
 






Damien Slater


Unfortunately, and completely against Slater's wishes, Felix helped stupid Kian up into the room. The smaller boy let out a defiant hmpf, his arms crossing angrily over his chest as he watched Kian dramatically throw himself on the ground. His dark eyes were narrowed as he glared down at Kian, and a little part of Slater was hoping that when he got bit by that spider that one time when he was six, he actually did get some kind of superhero abilities, and maybe lasers would shoot out of his eyeballs right now and disintegrate Kian right where he laid.

And then somehow, stupid Kian gained back all of his energy, and he was back on his feet and yelling at Felix as he pulled him into a tight hug, while yelling about how Fesus had saved him. Damien rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall beside the window while Kian was overdramatic, as usual.

Until Kian sent a dirty look in Damien's direction, and naturally he had to return the dirty look.

“No thanks to YOU, I might add. What? You were just gonna let your best friend die? I’m hurt, Dame, I’m actually hurt. Like, I might start crying and my tears are gonna ruin Felix’s nice shirt here.” Kian whined, his voice absolutely grating against Slater's nerves. “Damn, Fesus, you been working out?”

"Great, cry and run out the room. I dare you." Slater spat back.

And then Kian had the audacity to kick back in Slater's chair.

The absolute bitch.

“Hey, Kian, few questions." Felix. "One, what made you think that was a good idea? Two, why are you here — you comin’ to exact your revenge on Slut for, uh, blockin' you? Three, you...uh, you weren’t serious about me bitch-slappin’ him, right? Ya didn’t come here to witness that? Oh, and the most pressin’ question...for the folks at home... Just how the hell did you get up there in the first place?

"You wanted him to bitch slap me?" Slater snapped and although his voice sounded surprised, he wasn't all that surprised. It was just like Kian to suggest something so heinous and dumb. As if Felix's bitch slap would even hurt Slater. Little Felix wasn't that muscular and Damien had been smacked by much harder.

(See: literally any interaction with Dalton.)

“To answer your burning questions, amigos,” Kian began, “One: it was a good idea because it’s a Kian Phelan idea and all my ideas are fucking awesome. Two: I literally just wanted to come say hi because I’m bored and class let out early and shithead was all ‘nooooo Kian you can’t come here people are gonna know I’m in love with you if I do and that’ll ruin my bad boy reputation’ on me so I decided to Spiderman the shit out of the school because he said he locked the door and a locked door is no match for Mr Kian Phelan the Marvelous… Yeah I know, the name’s shit, but I’m working on it! And Three: I scaled the drainpipe and then did the little shimmy shimmy along the ledge until I got to this window.”

"Great, no one cares," Damien grumbled, ignoring the fact that Felix had literally just asked all those questions.

“Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo,” Kian continued, “whatcha doooooooooooin’?”

"Working on Arts Fest stuff, so you need to go the fuck away," Damien snapped as he started back towards the computer -- except Kian was in his chair, so he walked over and came to a stop right in front of Kian. "Get out of my chair. I gotta work on animating shit." He made a little shooing motion with his hand. "Go fucking annoy Felix or some shit. Help him with his voice acting. I dunno. Just get the fuck away from me."

Of course, Kian didn't move out of the chair fast enough (and yes, there were other chairs that Slater could've grabbed, but this was his chair and he needed to show Kian that he was clearly better), so Damien shoved him with his hand. And then he went to the dumb high school/middle school way of trying to gain your chair back by using his body to try and shove Kian out of it until there was this awkward moment where Damien was half on the chair with Kian half off of it.

Mature.




mood
fuck you, what the fuck, and fuck me

location
classroom

outfit
ah yes, yesterday's clothes





playing...
Sex for Breakfast
by Life Of Dillon​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Felix, Kian

tags
ohdittoh ohdittoh geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 






felix rian emmerson


Now, Felix had been called a number of nicknames. Part of having a two-syllable name was that people wanted to shorten it, but there really were no good nicknames for the name Felix. Well, there was Fefe, which, uh…either made him sound like a prissy dog in a handbag or a makeshift prison sex toy, depending on your outlook on things. He’d grown not to really mind that as much — or, uh, well, mind it as little as you could mind being homonymous with a rice-filled semen glove. Then, you had Emm, which he’d tried to make a monicker so that he wasn’t being referred to as Fefe all the time. Didn’t pan out, but it still was the name some of his customers knew him by. Emmy was an offshoot of that. All of those were kinda standard, run of the mill nicknames ya got in the standard way — ya know, takin’ his name and switching a lil’ bit up.

But then, there were Kian’s…uh…interesting nicknames. That was the nice way to put it. The guy always had some sort of thing to call him that was a bit surprising, always kinda took you aback. They were more interesting than, say, Fefe or Emmy or Emm, but he couldn’t really say whether they were better or worse. Eg, Drug Daddy, or, at present —

“FESUS!”

That was a new one.

Kian was up from the floor, and before Felix could process or react to that new title of his, the brunette’d latched onto him, squeezin’ him so tightly that Felix struggled to breathe.

“Fesus, you saved me!” Kian cried.

Felix chuckled softly, his body tense and frankly in pain. He moved his head back from him, managing a strained, “It’s all in a day’s work.”

After another moment, Kian released his death grip, and Felix pressed a hand to his chest and drew in a few deep gulps of air as Kian bitched at Slater. His friends were really kinda like kids, but…

Oh, sweet O2. Ya know, ya never really appreciated it until it was gone, but that really kept ya breathin’, didn’t it?

He moved his hand from his chest to brush his hair off of his forehead, and then dropped it to his his, propping his other hand up on his hip as well.

“Like, I might start crying and my tears are gonna ruin Felix’s nice shirt here,” Kian said, and evidently to emphasize that point, he patted Felix’s chest. He then moved back a bit and patted Felix’s chest again, his eyebrows raisin’. “Damn, Fesus, you been working out?”

A grin spread across Felix’s face, and he let out a soft chuckle. “Practicin’ for the bitch-slappin’, actually,” he kidded, shooting Slater a teasing look before he looked back at Kian.

Kian walked away from Slater and him and over to the desk that they’d been sitting at before. He flopped down in Slater’s chair, reclinin’ casually, kickin’ his feet up, and proppin’ his arms up behind his head.

A smile playin’ at his lips, Felix glanced over at Slater. Look, he wasn’t gonna say that seein’ Slater irritated was funny, but…yeah, seein’ Slater pissed off was funny as hell. Hey, look, it wasn’t just a Slater thing — watchin’ Kian’s goat get gotten was also highly entertaining, so he assisted there when he could, too. He was wholly impartial in this little war they had goin’ on — he played both sides, ya know.

“To answer your burning questions, amigos,” Kian began, and Felix looked over at him to see him actin’ like he was twirling a moustache, “one: it was a good idea because it’s a Kian Phelan idea and all my ideas are fucking awesome.”

“Ah, noted,” Felix said amusedly.

“Two: I literally just wanted to come say hi because I’m bored and class let out early and shithead was all ‘nooooo Kian you can’t come here people are gonna know I’m in love with you if I do and that’ll ruin my bad boy reputation’ on me so I decided to Spiderman the shit out of the school because he said he locked the door and a locked door is no match for Mr Kian Phelan the Marvelous…”

Felix’s eyebrows knit. “Kian Phelan the…”

“Yeah I know,” Kian said, “the name’s shit, but I’m working on it!” He continued. “And three: I scaled the drainpipe and then did the little shimmy shimmy along the ledge until I got to this window.”

"Great, no one cares," Damien grumbled.

Felix glanced over at Damien again, chuckling.

“Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo,” Kian drawled, and Felix looked back over at him. The boy in the chair flashed a smile. “Whatcha doooooooooooin’?”

"Working on Arts Fest stuff,” Slater answered immediately, “so you need to go the fuck away.” He made his way towards the computer again. "Get out of my chair. I gotta work on animating shit." He made a little shooing motion with his hand. "Go fucking annoy Felix or some shit. Help him with his voice acting. I dunno. Just get the fuck away from me."

And then, Slater began to try and shove Kian from his chair.

Yeah, uh, when Felix said they were like kids, he wasn’t kidding.

He stared for a second, not really surprised but still kinda just gawking at them, and then he snickered and re-latched the window before walking back over to the table. “Fellas, guys, boys.” He held up his palms in a patronizing manner like he was trying to calm down a dog. His brows crumbled, and he put a hand to his chest. “It…it feels like not so long ago…” He sniffled. “The three’a us, we were best friends. We were all asses to each other, but…damn it, I could feel the love. I could feel the…the warmth, ya know. I knew, in the future, we were all gonna move into some commune together…start life anew, y’know…” He wiped a fake tear from his eyes. “And now…this is what it’s come to…? Damien, you want…you want poor Kian to simply ‘get the fuck away from you’? And Kian…oh, Kian…” He sighed deeply, looking down at the ground. “Wow…just…wow.”

(Tongue-in-cheek theatrics — it was the name of the game.)

“A wedge has come between us,” Felix said, shaking his head shamefully. “I mean…” He gestured to Slater and then to Kian, and then shook his head again. “It just…it hurts my heart.” He looked up at the two, suppressing a grin in favor for a deeply worried look. “Can’t we all just…be friends? Get along? Or is Fesus doomed to a fate of being caught between a slut and a guitarist for the rest of eternity?”

Finally, his facade broke, and he laughed softly, putting an arm around Slater’s shoulder and a hand on the back of Kian’s chair. “Now, look: y’all either quit fightin’, or I’m just gonna have to find a way for you two to settle this dilemma,” he said, trying to sound imposing despite the grin on his face. He gave each of them a pointed look. “Y’all want that?”

He was mostly just being a dick to his friends, but hey.

“Let’s see…” He let go of their shoulders and looked around the room, putting a fist beneath his chin and clicking his tongue as he did. “There,” he muttered, and he walked over to a small, rolling table. “Now, ya know what I suggest to settle this? To keep me outta this, because it truly hurts my heart to be caught in the middle, and to find the true, rightful owner of that chair?” He pulled the table over to where they were sitting, and then slapped the top of it, grinning at both of the boys. “A good ol’ fashioned arm-wrestling match.” He gestured into the air, looking at the ceiling. “Either that, or the chair can be cut in half…or, ya know.” He looked at them again, raising an eyebrow. “One’a you could just…give up the chair?” He chuckled quietly, and then put on his crushed face again.

“Any way ya wanna do it, but get it done. I can’t stand any more of this…” He sniffled again dramatically, putting his hand to his chest. “This…this…this rift, just tearin’ us apart.”




mood
:' (

location
the school

outfit
somethin' casual





playing...
take a slice
by glass animals​




mentions
n/a

interactions
slater & kian

tags
Winona Winona geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 

Juliette Jameson
"I can't help it if I eavesdrop, I have ears, bitch.”

@QueenJules has set their status to:
Hunter Drake is the human equivalent to sewage. Change my mind.

@QueenJules has set their outfit to:
Comfy but sexy bc,,, obvi I can pull it off.

@QueenJules has interacted with:
Nickie

@QueenJules has mentioned:
Hunter

@QueenJules has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh Winona Winona

Nickie emerged from the stall and Juliette gave her a once over, opening her mouth to speak, but Nickie cut her off before she could say anything.

“Don’t say it — I look like shit, I know.”

That's no fun.

"Actually, I was gonna say that you get really swollen when you cry, but okay." Nickie took a deep breath, and Jules found it difficult not to stare at the mascara streaks that ran down her cheeks.

They used to be close.

Throughout these past few years, with the family drama that settled between their parents and money, growing older, Nickie moving to LA for Hollywood Arts.

They sorta just stopped talking.

Crossing her arms, JJ allowed her cousin to speak before she did.

“And also don’t say you told me so.”

“I…know you did.”


JJ chewed the inside of her lip, kind of just… observing? Look. She wasn’t entirely sure what to say. She doesn’t do whatever this is. She doesn't comfort people.

Friends, family, whatever. It didn’t matter. She just wasn’t used to this.

Wasn’t being here enough?

“Fuck!”

“I’m so — fuck.”

“Fuck, I’m so stupid, JJ. I’m so…”

“So fucking stupid,”




Well.

“Yeah, but…” She mumbled, unsure of what to say next.

“You fucking told me this was a bad idea.” She pressed her hand to her chest, and then dropped it and shook her head. “And I went and did it anyway.”

The girl let out a sad laugh.

JJ was right, yeah.

But that didn’t mean she actually wanted to be right now.

Nickie was venting. Actually— it was more like she was attacking herself.

And it pissed her off.

But not as much as her next words.

“JJ, I love him.”

Oh, Nickie lost it.

Juliette’s eyes widened and her mouth was agape for a total of five seconds, blinking and letting her continue before she could snap.

Nickie went on how Hunter should’ve told her about his little fling, how stupid she must be for it, how much she hates him but is somehow in love with him.

How she fell in love with the wrong people, going in this stupid cycle over and over. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault but Nickie’s.

The whole thing had set JJ in shock.

“JJ,” she said, “I really should’ve fucking listened.”

Obvi-fucking-ously.

She couldn’t stay quiet anymore. He was literally two and a half, and here she was.

At the very least a solid seven, crying over someone who clearly wasn’t in her league to begin with.

“Well, you’re gonna listen now.” JJ walked over to where Nickie sat on the counter, shoving her bag beside her cousin as she began to look through it.

“Nickie— you’ve been a thing for how long? A few weeks? You’re not in love with him! I’ve been sleeping with Dorian since before we got together and I’m not in love with him!” Juliette found the blue package and pulled a wipe out of it.

At first, JJ held it out to Nickie to take but quickly changed her mind, wiping roughly at the mascara streaks on her face.

“I say this with like, ‘love’ or whatever, but wake the hell up. Hunter Drake is literally the human equivalent to sewage.”

JJ’s motions slowed, seemingly content with most of the makeup she removed.

“So, dry your tears, build a bridge and get the fuck over it.”

She wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t like Nickie didn’t need to hear this. The longer she wallowed in it all, the more… Oh, JJ doesn’t know. But she had to stop fucking crying.

She wiped the corners of Nickie’s eyes gently and threw the used wipe in the sink beside them.

“Yeah, you’re a dumb whore but— you alone isn’t the problem. It’s your horrifying taste in men that’s the issue. It isn’t on you because he didn’t tell you. And it isn’t on you because you liked him enough to not see all his thousand and one flaws.”

God knows who could ignore Hunter Drake’s cockeye in the first place. Maybe it really was love then, but either way. Nickie should be smart enough not to fall for such an ugly little boy.

“Stop blaming yourself, because it’s really pissing me off— and stop saying I was right because as much as it’s giving me satisfaction, it’s making you feel worse.”

Get her a award, Juliette Jameson putting her ego aside? She deserved a participation medal at the very least.

“Don’t fight with me about if it was love or not. Nickie if it was love, you wouldn’t be crying in the girls bathroom right now.”
º º code by ditto º º
 






dominicka abrams


“Well, you’re gonna listen now.”

Nickie lifted a hand to wipe the tear from her cheek, sniffling deeply. She pursed her lips, watching her cousin walk over and shove her bag down beside her. JJ began to ruffle through the bag, and she spoke again. “Nickie — you’ve been a thing for how long? A few weeks?”

“Yeah,” Nickie said, her voice strained. She sniffled again. “A…few weeks.”

“You’re not in love with him!” JJ said.

Nickie drew in a deep inhale to defend herself, opening her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She choked up on tears again, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’ve been sleeping with Dorian since before we got together and I’m not in love with him!”

“Yeah, but you’re…different, JJ…,” Nickie said weakly, like that provided any defense. She sniffled deeply, wiping more tears from her cheeks with her palms again. Her nose was chapped, and she grimaced, letting out a soft grunt of pain. She opened her eyes again, looking to her cousin as she pulled a wipe from a pack of makeup wipes. “Like…Hunter and I were…” She trailed off, and then corrected herself with a deep breath out. “I guess I thought we were, like…like perfect. Like, yeah, that was fucking wrong, but…but JJ, if you were…if you were like that with someone who you thought was as fucking perfect as he was, you’d…you’d be in love, t…“

She trailed off as her cousin began to roughly wipe at the mascara streaks beneath her eyes. She pursed her lips. “I can do that myself,” she said meekly, making no effort to fight her.

“I say this with like, ‘love’ or whatever,” JJ said, “but wake the hell up. Hunter Drake is literally the human equivalent to sewage.”

“I…I know,” Nickie said.

It sent a pang through her chest to say that.

JJ’s motions slowed. “So, dry your tears, build a bridge and get the fuck over it.”

Shit. Shit, Nickie fucking wanted to do that. Another tear leaked from her eyes, and she looked down. She squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her head back against the mirror again, and she said in a mutter, “Fuck, I’m so stupid.”

JJ wiped the corners of Nickie’s eyes and dropped the wipe on the sink beside them. “Yeah, you’re a dumb whore,” JJ agreed, “but — you alone isn’t the problem. It’s your horrifying taste in men that’s the issue.” Nickie looked up at her cousin, letting out a soft sigh. “It isn’t on you because he didn’t tell you. And it isn’t on you because you liked him enough to not see all his thousand and one flaws.”

Tears brimmed at her eyes again, and the image of JJ in front of her flexed and bent beneath the liquid veil. “Stop blaming yourself,” JJ said, “because it’s really pissing me off — and stop saying I was right because as much as it’s giving me satisfaction, it’s making you feel worse.”

Nickie started, “But…”

She should’ve known better.

Everyone fucking told her. Every single fucking person told her Hunter was a whore, a wannabe player piece of shit who should’ve been dead in a ditch by now, someone who wasn’t even worth a single fucking second of her time.

And she’d said fuck all of them, fuck all of their opinions, and she’d gone after him anyway.

How wasn’t it her fault? She’d made fucking Hunter a personality trait.

“Don’t fight with me about if it was love or not,” JJ continued. “Nickie if it was love, you wouldn’t be crying in a girls bathroom right now.”

Fuck.

Nickie gasped in a breath of air, squeezing her eyes shut, which made more tears fall. She shook her head.

JJ was right. Shit, JJ was right.

Probably.

But Nickie didn’t — Nickie just wasn’t fucking sure. Because her heart was still hurting, was still regretting slapping him, still held onto that last kiss she’d given him, could still picture his heart-throbbing smile, and still yearned for his arms around her.

Because she felt so fucking alone now that she was separated from him. Even if she was here with JJ, even if she knew she had her cousin and her roommate, she still just felt so fucking alone.

And it was all her fault, too.

At least Hunter had told her that she was right. Hunter’d always held her and kissed her and defended her and —

And lied to her.

“Fuck!” she whispered, bringing her knees to her chest again.

She didn’t know how to feel. The tears were coming, and she couldn’t stop them. She gasped in air, sniffled deeply. “I’m sick and t-tired of…crying all the time, goddamn it,” she stammered weakly through chattering teeth. She looked up at JJ, clutching her knees tighter against her. “Yeah…yeah, JJ, I — I, like, shouldn’t be…ca-caught up on him. He’s a piece of shit — he’s just like everyone else said he was and I just ignored them…” She went quiet for a second. “Because I thought, like…he was someone like me or whatever the fuck. ‘Misunderstood outcast’ or some shit like that…and I know that’s not who he is or who I am. We both fucking deserve to be outcasts or whatever the hell.” She sniffled, grimacing at the pain in her chapped nose as more tears press from her eyes. “But I can’t just fucking act like what we had didn’t exist. Him doing this…or I guess just being whoever he is doesn’t, like, reverse all of those moments we had…and, like, I’m so fucking dumb for this, but I don’t — I don’t think I can fucking hate him!”

She squeezed her eyes shut again, putting her forehead on her knees. “Damn it, damn it, damn it,” she hissed, clenching her jaw. “Damn it! I can’t…” She sniffled deeply. “When I was alone, he was there. I know you were fucking there, too, but you’ve always been there. You’re fucking family, JJ, you’re stuck with me. And — and — and I don’t fucking know. I guess him being there…made me feel special. Because when boys pay me attention, or go out of their way to do shit for me? I don’t know. Just…just something in me makes me latch onto them — because I’m a clingy, dumb whore whose smarts are all in the books and that’s fucking it.”

She pressed herself harder against her knees. “I want to get over him. I seriously fucking do — but JJ, I don’t fucking know how. I’ve tried my whole fucking life to stop crying over what people say and do to me — and over fucking boys —“ Like Evie always told her. “— but I can’t! I want to — to move on from shit, but I fucking can’t.” Her voice broke on her last word, and for a second, she just cried.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

JJ wasn’t supposed to see this. No one was supposed to fucking see this.

This was so fucking embarrassing.

God, she was so fucking disgusting.

She hated herself.

Hated him.

Or, fuck it, maybe loved him.

Or maybe was somewhere fucking in-between.

She didn’t know what to fucking do. She didn’t know how to fucking feel.

Besides sick.

Besides broken.

Besides so.

Fucking.

Stupid.


Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

After a moment, she lifted her head weakly, a tired look in her teary eyes as she looked to JJ. Her voice was feeble when she spoke. “Just…what the hell am I supposed to do?”




mood
...

location
the bathroom

outfit
casual





playing...
oh god
by mothica​




mentions
simone & hunter

interactions
jj

tags
Soap Soap


º º code by ditto º º
 
"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:
Mike, Landon, Dorian

@Steller.Bae has Interacted with:
Zeph ( Winona Winona )
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Stella was pretty relieved that she'd simply misunderstood him for a moment. Truly thinking about going on double dates immediately and with them of all people was a headache. Stella was no stranger to being in a relationship this was her 3rd one after all in the last two years, however this was the first one born out of friendship. Her first boyfriend was just a guy who she instantly just thought was cute and vice versa. She didn't befriend him until after they started dating. her second boyfriend was basically the same thing just add in they at least seemed to share similar ambition. She and him never really were friends and perhaps that's where the lack of loyalty came from.

Point being Zeph was the first boyfriend she's ever had that she was afraid to lose because he was the first one that she didn't want to and really couldn't picture what her daily life would be like without him around. Since none of the others were her friend or a part of her life prior to dating once things ended no matter how she felt she could easily fall back into a previous routine. Other then obviously not wanting to mess things up with him due to her genuine compassion and affection for him...she'd be literally lost on what to do without him.

Having that realization was actually terrifying for Stella. Knowing that there was actually someone in this world who she depended on...luckily it was someone dependable like Zeph. It was the only solace she felt about the situation as a whole. Even now just sitting enjoying lunch with him looking at his gentle features and hearing his contagious laugh. A scene as simple as this while seemingly meaningless was anything but to her. She knew she couldn't treat or handle Zeph like she had the others. Everything from the nature of their relationship to his personality was such a stark difference from her usual. It felt like she was brand new to the dating world dating him.

It was kind of assuring however because she was pretty sure she was his first girlfriend period. At least he'd never mentioned dating anyone before, and she knew for a fact he didn't last year. Maybe fumbling around without complete certainly wasn't so bad if they both were noobs in this? To be honest she hated the idea of that because she didn't like the idea of fumbling or not knowing how to handle something...but it was the best she could do at the moment. All she could do was tread carefully and try her best to think before acting or in cases like this speaking. Her blunt thoughts not being particularly tactful.

"Ok," She chimed smiling as he laughed, "Hey a girl can double check!" She grinned before a thought crossed her mind.

While she should tread differently with Zeph then the others, that didn't mean she couldn't test some boundaries right? They are exploring this whole dating and being intimate thing together right? Plus considering paparazzi didn't come on school grounds they had more privacy here with now one around then anywhere else.

She leaned over the table with a smirk on her lips stopping just inches from his face before letting her index finger slowly caress from the back of his jawline to the front of his chin lightly as she spoke, "I can be kinda selfish." She hummed in a slightly sultry tone letting her eyes dip from his eyes to his lips. She didn't linger however since the point wasn't to cause a scene or anything.

Before letting him really react she snagged one of his fries with her free hand and backed away tossing it into her mouth. She sat back down with a playful grin dancing on her lips to see his reaction a moment as she chewed. After downing the snack she quickly sucked the tiny bit of salt off her finger and grabbed a napkin with her free hand to then wipe it clean acting as if nothing had happened at all and returned to eating her salad. "This actually tastes better with a bit of salt, who'd of thought?" She commented casually.

She knew he'd go right back to practicing and working on his routine once lunch was over. Which meant it'd be another pretty little while before they hung out again till Arts Fest was over, so she had to squeeze in as much fun in moments like these as she could.

She fully expected his reaction to the Mike ordeal. That was her gentle giant for you to cheer her on in it. "If he even tries it'll be his biggest regret. Can you imagine anyone really working with an 18 year old guy who hits 15 year old girls? It'll ruin what little notoriety he might have. He might as well pack his crap up because his career will be dead before it ever really could begin." She hmphed simply. Chris Brown has hardly recovered from the whole Rhianna thing and he was a super popular celebrity, and they were both adults. Imagine a legal adult putting his hands on a minor? "Even he can't be that dumb." She shrugged, "Or maybe he is and then we'll never have to see his face again."

Also she could defend herself. Her brother had taught her a few things for just the occasion. Plus he'd be too busy rolling on the floor holding his crotch to do anything. By the time he'd get up she would have walked away. Not to mention while she didn't really think Zeph to be the type to get aggressive he wasn't her only friend. She knew for a fact Landon and probably even Dorian would come to bat for her if he genuinely even tried to lay a finger on her. There was literally no situation in which it would benefit him to retaliate physically to her. "I won't get hurt, I Promise." She smiled back simply.

Him being even slightly worried about her well being though was cute in her eyes. Expected, but no less cute. "Lucky for you your girlfriend is tiny, but definitely mighty." She giggled before finally finishing off her food.
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
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:
Nate, Dei

@If.U.Seek.Amy has interacted with:
Ava ( Winona Winona )
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Maybe this wasn't a topic of conversation for right now. After all the point of hanging out at the moment was to de-stress and so this was growing to be pretty counterproductive in that regard. Amy didn't realize how much Ava didn't know about how this worked for them, and she especially didn't realize how she'd feel about it. Her body language screamed volumes, and she felt sort of guilty about the whole thing even if it's not her fault that the school operated like this. She could see Ava's point and irritation, but she also knew she couldn't do anything about that.

Deciding that dropping that topic was for the best for both of them. The last thing she wanted was for Ava to be annoyed with her right now, even if she understood her irritation wasn't with or even directed at her. Just being in it's aura would be uncomfortable, and Amy was tired of being uncomfortable and failing at comforting others.

Speaking of things irritating her friend her phone was one of them. Even if she didn't say anything Amy knew Ava well enough to know that her phone buzzing constantly was a problem. Because well Ava was just as competitive in gaming as she was if not more and Amy's many deaths were making things not run as smoothly as they should be considering both girls skill level. Silencing it was really the best move.

As they beat one of the levels Amy was finally feeling relieved and relaxed, which was odd considering the game in question, but that was just more of a testament to how rough her day had been so far. She was taken by surprise when Ava didn't immediately start up the next level, but instead turned her full attention to her and began talking about...well the drama. Sharing her thoughts and opinions on it in fact.

"Listen," she started, "fuck the drama, 'cause it's high school. No one's going to care in two years or whatever the fuck.

This was painfully true even if Amy didn't feel it enough to internalize it, she knew it enough to know she couldn't rebuttal it. Would she still feel this dread by the time she graduated? She certainly hoped not.

"The best way to rub it in everyone's faces? Make your goddamn album without any of their help, and then sell a shit ton of copies or whatever, and rub your riches in their face."

Imagining the look on the faces of those that tried to hurt her feelings, or bring her down, or cast her aside? To see their faces when she was on top? Now...that'd be priceless. That was a thought that genuinely made her feel...powerful. It was strange because even this small amount isn't something she's ever felt before. She's never dreamed of herself being in a position where she felt strong, or in the words of others...a bad ass bitch. Could she really pull something like that off was the real question.

"Just a... 'and for this next song, I'd like to thank everyone that was an absolute ass and inspired this album. But also no thanks, and fuck you guys.'" Ava dropped her hands from her mouth and picked the controller back up. "And then you launch into a song that's just 'fuck you, and fuck you, and you? Yeah, a special fuck to you.'"

Amy couldn't help but bust out laughing by the end of it. It was the first time she's laughed so much while sober in what felt like years. She 100% agreed with Ava but the whole performance and speech she gave along with it put a smile on the girls face. "You are absolutely right!" She wasn't sure she'd ever be brazen enough to to that, but wouldn't that be amazing if she was? "Just a 'Fuck you, fuck you very very muchhh'." She sang to the Lily Allen song fuck you. It was the politest, softest, fuck you song she could think of in the moment.

The blunt reminder that while all this sucks and hurts right now...time will eventually heal all wounds was appreciated. The proof? She was able to forgive Nate despite how much that had hurt. She wasn't sure if she could ever forgive Dei, but she could and would eventually move on from it. One day she'll look back at all this and it won't feel so bad. "I think that's the best advice I've been given in a while." She giggled. "Thanks Ava. You'll be in my nice thank you speeches".

To be honest Amy wasn't much of a public speaker. Singing on a stage? Perfectly fine because it was like some switch flipped in her brain and she escaped herself while it happened and fell into the passion of the music and however she was feeling at the moment. Speaking? Totally different. She would get so tongue tied and twisted up inside. Was that something she'd have to get over? Yes of course. Was she working on it? Uhhh....no...not at all. Is that a problem? Hopefully not one she has to face any time soon.

"Tho...uh I might have to ask you for help on any speech writing." She giggled bashfully scratching the back of her head. "Never been my forte." She pressed her lips in a shy smile. Because she fully expected her and Ava to stay close even after high school was over. She'd easily become someone she felt she could count on as a real friend.
º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD: pow pow

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school hallway
basics
MENTIONS:
Maddie

INT:
Winona Winona (Ash, Jace)
jasmyn jasmyn (Dorian)
tags
TL;DR no
tl;dr
Javier Cervantes
Jace was unbelievable, yet the sad part was that Javi could believe it. Not a speck of surprise crossed his face as the arrogant runt dared to challenge him, going so far as to step forward with a confidence that proved how oblivious he was to how capable Javi was of kicking both his and Dorian's asses. The muscular boy found himself doubly filled with rage to compensate, expending only a small fraction of that fury envisioning different ways to disfigure the blonde boy's face—more than it already was.

Ash blatantly dodged his question, which made Javi frown a little, but that too didn't come as much of a surprise. In fact, he came to realize that he didn't know very much—if at all—of the hopelessly hapless girl's problems. They'd mostly been bonded by lighthearted jests of upcoming hookups and a fated night's viewing of The Notebook, all of which involved strictly Javi being problematic to some degree. And then suddenly Jace piped up and also asked what she and Dorian were talking about, which made Javi feel gross because then they were on the same side of the inquiry.

After deciding not to press further, the origin of the confrontation resurfaced. Jace took a daring step forward, practically inviting himself to be torn limb from bony limb. "This... this... has nothing to do with you. Go... just, just... just go, mind your own business, huh?" He then poked a weak, pathetic finger into Javi's chest, which had to have felt like poking into a brick wall.

The curly-haired boy slowly looked down at the finger, then up at Jace. He'd made his choice. Anything that came after was a consequence of his brashness. Giving a few more moments to let the initial metaphorical dust settle, Javi lifted a hand, seized Jace's finger, and squeezed with the crushing might of a gorilla. His knuckles turned white, his hand trembling with excessive force until he finally released the innocent finger being controlled by a colossal dumbass.

"Apologize for pushing me," he grunted, his voice deepening to a low growl as he roughly shoved Jace's shoulder. Shallow breaths seeped through his gritted teeth, his face growing redder with gradually ascending murderous intent. "Apologize for yelling at my friend," he continued, raising a fist, "And apologize for being fucking born!" With that, he thrust his fist into the fragile boy's stomach, and he smiled wickedly.

His eyes flicked over to Dorian, who expectedly made haste in defending his helpless, diapered rat of a friend. "I never fucking liked you," he spat, stretching and waggling his fingers, which itched to form a fist. He squeezed them tight, embracing his vitality with the satisfying, soothing cracks in his knuckles.

Ash, to the side, as much as she mattered to Javi, almost completely blurred into the background as his goals became blurred. His vision grew red thinking of only Dorian, the scumbag who reveled in his humiliation and celebrated when things with Maddie soured. He was such a smug fucking prick. Standing up and flexing his muscles like some superhero savior to the helpless bystander to Ash's own humiliation at the Lock-in. Javi sympathized. Jace and Dorian were one and the same.

Javi readied a fist, channeling his entire body's energy into it. All that remained in his eyesight was the vision of a fist flying straight into Dorian's face, shattering his teeth and crushing his nose to dust. He focused long and hard, but who was to say how long it was? Time seemed to stop as Javier finally found himself confronting someone he should have beaten to the ground a long time ago. Maybe then he wouldn't be labeled the "crazed stalker" Dorian made him out to be.

Just as he put his body into motion, not a millisecond later, the boy sent a fist crashing into Javi's face, dealing a staggering blow to his cheekbone. He stumbled backwards, then reflexively held his cheek with his hands. The adrenaline may have numbed part of it, but it didn't take a genius to tell when someone got a clean hit in.

"You punch like a bitch," he jeered, throwing his body forward and his hands onto Dorian's shoulders, slamming him back into the lockers. Wasting no time, he raised a fist again, but it wasn't in time. Dorian's sheer might threw Javi off of his body, but the ensuing momentum left him open to the long-awaited arrival of Javier's first hit. He charged a right hook into Dorian's face, releasing a sharp hiss at the dull pain in his fist. It tingled with the familiar sensation of a fight, and damn did it sting.

Dirtily denying his opponent any time to recover, Javi punched again, delivering a solid blow to his stomach. Now he and Jace could match. "I can't stand the fucking sight of you!" the bassist shouted with unbridled, fiery passion in his brown eyes, "You wanted to fuck me up? Hurt me? Now's your chance, tough guy." He let out a cocky guffaw, which resounded throughout the slowly clearing area. It seemed fistfights took up a lot of space

"Not so easy to fuck me over when I'm not in your little mansion, huh? Where's Mommy Dearest to command thee to throw me out?" He flexed his muscles, eager to get back to the fight. "I bet your sociopathic sister thinks you're a fucking pussy. You and the useless piss bitch." He smirked at Jace, then pretended to lunge at him, pulling his body back at the last second. The heavy slam of his foot made a thud on the tiled floor, mere inches from the blonde idiot himself.

"Did your ugly-ass ghost boyfriend give you a black eye fucking your face last night?" he teased, snickering, "I bet he was real proud of the way you stood there drooling while he shit-talked your sister."
code by valen t.
 
Isabella Dupont
@bellaissima has set their status to:
ugh

@bellaissima has set their outfit to:
cherry pie

@bellaissima has set their location to:
hallway

@bellaissima has mentioned:
Kelli

@bellaissima has interacted with:
Casey & Avery

@bellaissima has tagged:
Winona Winona & Xed Xed
Bella was growing less and less interested in keeping the peace by the second, rage bubbling up and threatening to boil over the longer she stood between the two boys. Fuck, she hated idiodicy.

There was Casey, arm clutching her journal stretched up towards the ceiling in some stupid act of childish defiance which could have easily been remedied by simply giving the significantly shorter girl her damn property back. And then there was Avery, all red eyed and loopy from whatever he had taken. From the smell of it and the vacant look in his eyes, Bella made the assumption that it was weed.

The anxious gnawing began in her stomach.

Casey’s voice filled Bella’s ears but the actual words he was saying were undecipherable in her mind. Bella was far more concerned with Avery’s wellbeing than some idiot with a god-complex taking some moronic claim over her poetry journal. With her friend right in front of her and clearly struggling, suddenly the complete invasion of privacy and promise of theft didn’t seem so important. Her concern only continued to grow when Avery replied to her question on if he was high with:

“I’m average I think…”

Bella’s slender hands balled into fists at her sides as the anxiety kept growing in her stomach. When was the last time she had been around someone who was high? Someone who she cared about, that is? She thought she would be safe from the stupid nightmares that haunted her days if she befriended people that were more socially reserved and clean like Avery and Kelli. Apparently there is no escaping the mere fact of reality that people use.

The anxiety continued to grow and the voices around her continued to talk.

This shouldn’t be a big deal, one friend high on a little marijuana should not have been enough to set Bella off. But the circumstances were aligning and the fear kept creeping back and Casey was annoying her and she could see the faces of the people she was trying to forget in the back of her mind and why were they talking so loud and...

"Lemme sing one of 'em."

“Can you make…the spinning…stop?”

“Will you both just shut up!” Bella snapped suddenly, the dark tone in her voice startling her own ears.

Bella’s hands wrapped around the hem of her sweater to keep her fingers from shaking. Hollywood Arts was apparently a horrible fucking idea, leaving France had apparently been a horrible fucking idea. She couldn’t even handle one minor dispute involving an idiot and another (high) idiot without being pulled back to the things she had run from in the first place.

In the temporary silence that followed, Bella reached up and roughly yanked Casey’s arm down to grab her journal. Flicking through the pages with her thumb, a soft breath of relief fell from her lips as she accounted for all of the pages and noticed no damage. Casey may have been an idiot but at least he was careful.

“You had no right reading my material. My writing is a personal affair, where do you get off on reading private matters? Yes, my poems are good, I am very much aware of that. No, they do not need some bullshit guitar solo to make them cool. You would butcher them, not make them better.” Bella ranted as her hands closed tighter around the journal. Each phrase was coming out harsher than anticipated, each bite more venomous. “And you,” she continued as she turned to Avery with a finger jabbed into his chest, “smoking already? What do you think you are doing? You got high and you cannot even take care of yourself and now you come to me for help. I am not your mother, Avery, I have no interest in babysitting some first time smoker with no self preservation skills.”

Without another word, Bella turned and began to storm off down the hallway. Her heart was rattling around inside of her chest, thumping against her ribcage so strongly that she was certain the poor thing would bruise.

Bella hadn’t intended to be so cold, that attitude was a part of her that Bella had long wished to abandon. Insulting people for their interests and talents, degrading others for the very things that Bella had already done in the past. Everything had come as a surprise, old emotions and fears resurfacing and sweeping over her like a monsoon threatening to pull her under. It had been close to a year since everything went down, it shouldn’t still be bothering her like this. With a soft, pitiful laugh, Bella silently wondered if the feelings would ever go away.

Her shoes scuffed against the glistening tile underfoot, iron grip releasing around the journal. Maybe she was too hard on Casey even though he did go through her things and she was certainly too hard on Avery. Slowly, Bella turned around and made her way back over to the boys. Upon arrival, Bella looped her arm around Avery’s waist and pressed her body into his side in an attempt to ‘stop the spinning’ he had been talking about.

“Come on,” Bella spoke coldly, “we are going to get you some water and something to eat. You need to rest, clearly you and weed do not mix well.” Bella then turned to Casey and sighed. “And you…” She knew she should apologize for being so cold but Bella simply couldn’t find the words. There was only one way to fix the situation in Bella’s mind. “If you want to work together, fine. Meet us in the music room in ten minutes and do not be late.”

Bella didn’t care to wait for Casey’s response, mostly because she was positive that he would throw her some stupid I-told-you-so grin and wave it in her face that she was giving in. So instead of standing there, Bella maneuvered herself and Avery to walk down the hall and out of sight.

Out of earshot from Casey, Bella stopped walking and turned to Avery, face softening slightly as she reached up to push the hair away from his face. “Are you okay?” She asked as she reached into her bag to pull out a granola bar and her water bottle, placing each carefully in Avery’s hands.

º º code by ditto º º
 
Genevieve Johannes
@genjohanne has set their status to:
...

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
casual and depressed tbh

@genjohanne has set their location to:
the fashion room

@genjohanne has mentioned:
Evie & Landon

@genjohanne has interacted with:
Mike

@genjohanne has tagged:
ohdittoh ohdittoh
Life was a fucking joke. Everything about Genevieve Johannes’s life was especially a joke.

The list of events that had continuously been occurring for the past month in her life was honestly hilarious. Losing her best friend because she fucked her brother? Hilarious. Fucking up things with said brother that she very much cares about because she’s afraid of making a terrible situation worse? Comical. Crying in front of someone that Gen wasn’t even sure was a friend right up until all the shit hit the fan? Knee-slapping, tear jerking comedy.

What is even funnier than that? Michael Reid, the same snarky, know-it-all, holier than thou Michael Reid was sympathetic and admitting that he cared.

When Gen had been talking before, her mouth running ahead and speaking without her brain having any input into what was being said, she was certain that Mike was going to laugh in her face or degrade her for being weak or, and perhaps most mercifully, just get up and leave. The pair were not known for their deep, intimate conversations, nor were they known for sharing any emotion that wasn’t ‘horny’ or ‘angry’. So when Mike began to talk and his sentences began to show empathy, Gen found herself rather dumbstruck.

Gen had to stop herself from laughing. Everything Mike was saying was incredibly kind but each nice word that fell from his lips served only as a knife to cut deeper into Gen. Mike shouldn’t be polite to her, shouldn’t be trying to spare her or admit some sort of emotional connection with her. He was only going to get hurt in the end: the people that Gen cares about always do.

As difficult as it was not to laugh, it was even more difficult for Gen not to get up and run out of that damn room.

“I guess I missed you.”

Gen tried to hide the flinch in her face at his words but she was certain it was obvious. How could someone like her be missed by anyone? No one misses pain, no one misses a traitor, no one misses her. After lock-in, Gen had become thoroughly convinced that she could up and disappear and no one would notice or care. Maybe that would have been better for everyone, keeping the last few people that attempted to defend her horrid name safe from her lashing and bitter tongue. It would be better if no one noticed her, better if the only thing she was remembered for was being that bitch in the centrefold, better if there was no one left around her to hurt. Mike had to know this.

"Whether you like it or not, you're the one who's stuck with me, babe. You're the one stuck with the resident just-general asshole." There was that stupid fucking smile of his. "Your treat." Gen forced herself to look up at him and to swallow down any pitiful remark that her mouth was threatening to spit. "So, Gen…guess there’s really only one question that’s left: what’ll we do now, huh?”

For the first time that day, Gen let out the tiniest little bit of a genuine laugh. Someone get this guy an Oscar because damn, that was one good performance.

“You’re going to regret saying that, you know.” Gen said quietly through her soft laugh. “Anyone who decides to stick around gets hurt. I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or a glutton for punishment at this point.”

There it was, the smallest hint of the normal Gen with her snarky comments and biting attitude. For those observant enough to notice the slight shift in her mannerisms from just seconds before, they would be able to tell that she was trying to change the subject, trying to push things to go back to normal.

“What’ll we do now, huh?”

Mike’s words echoed in her brain. That was a very good question and one that Gen didn’t have a great answer to. So instead of doing anything, Gen simply reached up and placed her hand on the side of Mike’s face and pulled him in slowly until their lips connected.

Something felt wrong from the second they connected. Gen was used to it feeling heated but not passionate or emotionally driven. Maybe it was the conversation that they had just held that made their kisses feel strange and foreign or maybe it was the energy that was being passed between the two. It was very clear to Gen that they weren’t just chill friends or casual hookups anymore, they were definitely more than that.

Gen tried to make things normal again, she really did. But the more she kissed Mike, the more she wanted to continue that connection, the more she wanted to not let go. Gen wasn’t ready to face what that meant but she was positive that he had to know. So instead of continuing, Gen dropped her arms from where they had wrapped around Mike’s neck and pulled away, instantly turning her back to him.

“I…” She stammered, her index and middle finger raising to touch her damped lips. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Was the situation worse or better? Gen couldn’t tell. But by the thudding in her chest and the hollow feeling in her stomach, she quickly came to the realization that Mike was much more than a friend to her. Evie was right, it seemed, they weren’t just beneficial friends.That’s what she gets for hooking up with him time and time again, she proposed:

You get feelings for someone that you never expected and waltz into dangerous territory every time you kiss.

Gen felt the guilt creep upon her almost instantly. What would Landon think if he found out? And Evie. Fuck, she was in so fucking deep because of her feelings for Landon that she ruined everything with Evie. and now there was fucking Mike, running in and making things complicated again.

All Gen could hope was that she didn’t just let her feelings ruin the last good relationship she had.

º º code by ditto º º
 
MOOD:
just chilling
(with weed)

OUTFIT:
here
INFO
LOCATION:
trevor's van

WITH:
nate, trevor

MENTION:
Ash, Callum, Evie, Oates​
ACTIVITY
cappie
Why was Guinness stuttering like he just spotted Pennywise strolling down the sidewalk? Maybe Cappie was imagining it, but Trevor seemed a bit more tensed up than a moment ago. Was it the “Irishman Hitman” comment that referenced the real-life Irish mafia hitman Frank Sheeran, who has a movie about him that had Robert De Niro played as him? Nah, Trevor Callaghan couldn’t have been offended by something like that, unless he had something against Robert De Niro.

Now, Cappie had always thought of himself to be a friendly guy. Ask anyone who’d met him—the most common answer was “kinda weird but friendly”. His occasional jokes were usually harmless, and he wasn’t always trying to be annoying to everyone. He just tried having a good time, loosen up a bit, not take life so seriously. If anyone takes his words too seriously or misunderstands him, well, that’s their problem. He wasn’t trying to be blatantly rude to everyone he meets, unlike some of the real assholes at this school, and he didn’t have a major problem with many people.

Unless he comes across someone that’s an asshole. Sure, he was a basic nice and optimistic guy, but he wasn’t the “naive optimist” type. He just couldn’t tolerate some schmucks because they always acted like schmucks to him and his friends for no good reason.

As far as Cappie knew, Trevor hadn’t done anything personally terrible or disrespectful to him.

Whatever was going on with Trevor, Cappie paid no mind, assumed the Irishman would simply get a little nervous meeting new people, and listened to Nate talk about the fall fair.

"Evie punched Adriane and got kicked out of the fair. Hot as fuck. That was the fight. Guess she was talking shit about someone, I dunno."

“Still pretty badass of Evie to punch someone at the fair,” he remarked, nodding in approval at the story and accepting the doobie offer. One of the film roles he was auditioning for next month was a smoker, so might as well do a little method acting ahead of time.

Cappie was aware of the confrontation between Trevor and Callum. Well, he mostly skimmed through the tweets, but basically, Trevor shoved Callum, who’d got away with barely a scratch on him. Maybe there was a slight bruise, but Cappie didn’t care. Honestly, he was glad Callum was shoved. After the way that scrawny, apathetic bastard treated Ash at the lock-in (not to mention the sketchy way he treated Oates in his relationship with him), Callum deserved to deal with the consequences of his own actions for once.

Not that Cappie would say this out loud, especially with Nate around. Yes, he knew Nate was friends with the dancer, too.

As Cappie inhaled from the joint and held in the smoke for a few seconds, Nate mentioned “that dumb blind date shit”, and it piqued his curiosity.

“What blind date?” Cappie asked, casually blowing out the thick smoke from his one hit. “Anything happened at the fair for you, Mr. Callaghan?”

He held whatever was left of the weed to Trevor, who looked like he needed it more. Cappie would’ve taken a second or third hit since the first didn’t always affect him too much, but he preferred not going to his next class as high as a SpaceX rocket launch.

“By the way, Trev, I wanna thank you,” he said, “for looking after Ash at the lock-in. It’s nice knowing there was someone there for her when she was dealing with shit, and me and Eli couldn’t be nearby at the time. Means a lot to me.”
code by valen t.
 






Avery Ohtani



“WILL YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP!”

And Avery was a goner. In addition to the spinning corridor, his ears were now ringing with the sound of Bella’s booming, angry voice, and it made everything worse. Way worse. He was certain his head was going to split wide open at this rate, especially if his eyes opened.

Don’t open, don’t open, don’t open.

He repeated the words in his head slowly as he kept his lids tightly glued shut.

It seemed to be working, the ache of his head and the ringing in his ear seemed to be dying down when all of sudden, he felt a sudden sharp jab to his chest, and his eyes flew wide open to see an angry Bella…that was anger right? …Yeah she looked angry. Those furrowed brows and the painful sting in his chest where she jabbed him and…everything was spinning again. Crap.

She was standing right in front of him but her voice sounded so far away.

“smoking already? What do you think you are doing? You got high and you cannot even take care of yourself and now you come to me for help. I am not your mother, Avery, I have no interest in babysitting some first time smoker with no self preservation skills.”

Too. Many. Words. Too. Much. Spinning.

His eyes glued shut again as Bella’s voice echoed in his ears.

Smoking. Smoking. How did she know that he had smoked the candle with Adriane and Saint? Had she seen them? He couldn’t remember seeing anyone else though…and his mistakes…oh no.

What else was she saying? No. He couldn’t do it. His head hurt, there was just one too many words and he felt sick. Lock In had been great but today was going badly. He wanted to lie on his bed but then he would have to open his eyes and make his way down the spinning corridor and he just…he couldn’t. And now Bella was angry at him as well…he really couldn’t get anything right today. It was just mistake after mistake.

A hand wrapped itself around his waist and Avery slowly opened his eyes to see a blurry figure standing next to him. He blinked and squinted as the figure supported his body, pressing their own into his side. Who…? Bella? What was she doing?

“Come on,” Bella spoke coldly, “we are going to get you some water and something to eat. You need to rest, clearly you and weed do not mix well.”

Food. Would he be able to eat without getting sick? Even a slight misstep in his breathing made him feel like he could be emptying his guts at any point. And her voice was so cold, he’d only ever heard Bella speak in a warm voice before and the difference was jarring.

They were walking now, where were they going? She’d said something about a room. Music room? Also weed…? He hadn’t been around any weeds today…only the carpark and the classrooms and people. As far as he knew he didn’t have any weed allergies either… Also where had Casey gone?

They came to a stop and Bella reached up to push some of the hair away from his face. The spinning seemed to have slowed as well.

“Are you okay?” She asked, placing a granola bar and water bottle into his hands.

“Thank you.” He croaked weakly as he put the granola bar in his pocket and slowly uncapped the bottle. “I’m sorry I made you angry earlier.” He apologised. “I didn’t mean to. I’ll try not to make you angry again.”

Ah…did he have any more cash? Would his apology be enough? After all, there were some things that an apology couldn’t fix right? That’s what Saint and Adriane had said earlier… Bella would be kind enough to forgive him right?

Avery took slow sips of the cool water and he could feel his headache starting to ease up a little as he capped it and handed it back to Bella.

His steps were slow as they made their way to the music room. Everything still felt a little wonky and floaty but at least the ground seemed to be stable again and not tilting off to one side. The water was doing wonders.

They entered the music room and it took much less time to find it than it would have if he had been alone. Especially with his brain feeling like mush. He was feeling better than earlier but he was still a little unsteady on his feet.

He sat himself down in one of the seats and waited for... What were they here for again?

The granola bar she had handed him was still sitting in his pocket. Honestly he still felt a little queasy and not up to eating anything but then she had taken the time to stop and give him her food. It would be rude of him to not at least try and eat some of it right?

With such thoughts in mind, he pulled the granola bar out of his pocket and slowly tore open the packaging. The smell of the nuts was overpowering. He had a granola bar before but he didn’t remember it smelling this strong back then. Hopefully he wouldn’t throw up.

He nibbled slowly on the granola bar and its taste was equally overpowering. Don’t throw up. Part of him regretted handing back the water bottle now. Small bites. A distraction. Maybe talking about something would help keep him distracted enough and help him avoid throwing up all over the corridor. But what would he talk about?

Oh right.

“How did you know I smoked a candle with some seniors earlier?” Avery asked. He was curious and Bella didn’t seem as angry as before. He wouldn’t get into trouble for asking right?

“Did you see us?”

Ah, speaking of the seniors and the candle smoking to Bella, that reminded him.

“Also, is kissing people on the cheek to thank someone offensive?” Saint and Adriane had certainly responded in a way that suggested that it was. Should he tell her what happened with Saint and Adriane? But that was rude right? He’d read that talking about others behind their back was considered rude. Would telling Bella be considered talking behind their back? He didn’t want to make more mistakes than he already had.

Socialising was difficult.

Oh yeah.

“What are we here for by the way?”

Needless to say, his mind was all over the place and he was trying so hard to make his way through the mess of his thoughts and focus on Bella that he didn't notice anything else.





mood
How do I do this?

location
Music Room

outfit
preppy school boy





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Adriane, Saint

interactions
Bella, Casey

tags
Winona Winona geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 






trevor callaghan​


There were few times in Trevor Callaghan’s puny, miserable life that he felt the kind of deep, raw, unadulterated existential fear that he did in this moment. The sudden fear that caused him to confront his feebleness, his unsuccessfulness, and his mortality.

The feat that told him, Holy fuck, I’m about to die. I’m about to die by the hands of a rando smoking a joint rolled by my own hands.

Oh feck, please.

Please.

Please, he was too young, too hot, too promising to be taken out this early. He hadn’t done anything — anything — with his life. Wouldn’t you feel bad if you took him out before his prime, Cappie? Wouldn’t that tear you up inside? Trevor was an easy target, too. A single thump could knock him over — that would be punishment enough. Please, please, was death necessary?

Please spare him.

(Trevor smoked to calm down, but the drug, in truth, tended to make matters worse for him, or, at least, exaggerate his feelings and his fears. Especially his fears. Weed didn’t quite do wonders for the boy’s already overwhelming paranoia. Exhibit A: what was occurring at present.)

Nate.

Nate.

Nate was his last hope — the only one who could save him from the bloodthirsty fists of Cappie Monterey.

His fate rested in his hands.

"Yeah," Nate said, and he took a hit from the joint. He exhaled before he continued. "Evie punched Adriane and got kicked out of the fair. Hot as fuck.”

A deeply thankful smile spread across Trevor’s face, his face brightening with the relief that Nate got the fecking memo. “Very hot,” he agreed, his voice rife with gratefulness, and he nodded emphatically.

(He had to agree to make the story believable.)

“That was the fight,” Nate said. “Guess she was talking shit about someone, I dunno." He shrugged, and Trevor mirrored the shrug, adding, “Yeah…yeah, I dunno.”

“Still pretty badass of Evie to punch someone at the fair,” Cappie remarked, nodding and taking the joint from Nate as he held it out.

He was buying it — the lad was eating it right up.

Feck, Trevor could have kiss Nate right then. He wouldn’t, because he didn’t trust his mouth nor did he have any real interest in kissing a guy nor did he want to deal with the aftermath of it, but he could have, just from the sheer thankfulness coursing through his blood.

Nate was perfect at distraction — at sparing Trevor from his doom. He deserved a raise.

"Evie gets all defensive when people talk shit about her friends and she's like 'only answer? Punch.' That's why she wanted to go after Callum," he explained, gesturing to Trevor. "Like this little fucker decided to."

Trevor laughed. “Yeah, like this little fu —“ And then he realized what Nate had said, and he shot him a glare, his gratefulness temporarily dissipating. “Hey.” He sounded too irritated there to be the convincingly innocent guy that he’d been before, and he registered that moments after saying it, so he laughed, trying to play it off as a joke. “Oh, Nate.” He pointed to him with his thumb, looking at Cappie. “Always a jokester, isn’t he?”

Nate simply continued on with what he’d been saying. “Not surprised you didn't see it. You were busy with that dumb blind date shit, right?"

SHITE.

Trevor’s fell, his eyes widening as he was once again overcome with that dread.

No, Nate.

No, no, no, that wasn’t what you were supposed to say.

Was that payback for his “hey”?

No, no, no, Trevor took that back. Please, he was sorry.

Please, just tack on a little “kidding” or something.

Not the date.

NOT THE DATE.

Here was where he died.

Here was where Trevor fecking died.

Amy, to you he bequeathed Rachel; you were the only roommate who he trusted to drive it without totaling it or running someone over.

Amen.

“Uh…no,” Trevor said, swallowing hard. He shook his head, laughing and trying to play it off as nothing. “No, I…wasn’t busy at all with it.”

"Didn't miss much, Cap. Fair was pretty boring." Nate added offhandedly.

THAT WASN’T TAKING IT BACK, NATHAN.

“Boring, yeah,” Trevor quickly agreed, hoping that that would still work to distract Cappie from the existence of the fair date, which would, in turn, distract him from the existence of Ash, which would, in turn, keep Trevor from being gutted in the seat of his own, loving, fuel-efficient chariot.

Dismiss the subject. That would surely fix it.

“What blind date?” Cappie asked, casually blowing out the thick smoke from his one hit.

Turned out, that didn’t fix it.

SHITE.

SHITE.


“Anything happened at the fair for you, Mr. Callaghan?” Cappie asked, holding the weed out for Trevor.

Trevor reached out with shaking fingers, taking it. He swallowed hard again, laughing again.

His last hit before death.

“By the way,” Cappie said as the literarian stoner lifted the joint to his lips, “Trev, I wanna —“

Trevor’s eyes widened.

KILL ME.

HE WANTS TO KILL —


“ — thank you,” Cappie said.

Thank?

Trevor repeated Cappie’s word, dumbfounded.

Stunned.

Had he…mispronounced ”smear your intestines against the spotless lining of your prized minivan”?

“For looking after Ash at the lock-in,” Cappie continued. “It’s nice knowing there was someone there for her when she was dealing with shit, and me and Eli couldn’t be nearby at the time. Means a lot to me.”

“O-oh?” Trevor blinked.

(The following was the reaction of a boy who, upon facing certain doom, suddenly received a pardon from a grim, gruesome death. This footage was raw, uncut, unfiltered, and distributed for educational purposes. Viewer discretion was advised, for no reason other than one may connect their palm with their forehead so hard that one give oneself a concussion upon viewing it.)

“Oh.” He blinked his wide eyes a couple more times. “Oh.” He swallowed hard, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, oh.” He slowly nodded, unsurely at first. “Oh. Oh…” His nods grew more sure, and his brows slowly fell, his eyes returning to a normal width. “Oh.” He slowly grinned. “Oh.” He let out a chuckle. “Oh. Oh, no.” He flopped his wrist dismissively. “You don’t have to thank me for it or anythin’.” His voice quivered — you didn’t recover quickly from such a close brush with death. He cleared his throat. “I was gonna do it anyway,” he added humbly, and then he took the hit from his joint — the hit that he thought was going to be his last.

It wasn’t his last.

Thanks to Nate.

Hallelujah.

The could have kissed Nate was on again.

Side note: he was fairly high right now, and fairly fecking hungry, too. He wanted to make a stop for a crispito. He was very tempted to ditch after lunch and grab one.

Where was he?

He blew out the smoke. Oh, right. “The fair —“

Wait.

“Date…”

No.

No, that wasn’t where he was.

Feck.

Feck, why was he changing the subject back to…?

He blinked.

Well, shite.

There was no going back now.

He shook his head. “I was forced to go. Charlie’s orders,” he was sure to preface, and then he said, “It was with Ash, but it wasn’t anything.” He delivered that part quickly, as though he was rushing to fit those words in. He realized how frantic he’d sounded, so he laughed, running a hand through his coarse hair and trying to sound casual. He offered the small joint back to Nate. “We bonded. Over the wheel.”

Segue opportunity.

“The…uh…ya know, that big fecking wheel thing…?” He grabbed at the air, as if that helped to demonstrate what he was talking about. “Ferris. The Ferris wheels…those are…those are right fecking neat, aren’t they?” He laughed slightly. “One time, I spent seventy bucks riding the thing around and around. Then I ran out of money.” He looked over at Nate, his eyes once again holding that panicked, “PLEASEHELPME” look. “Those...are…are…neat, huh, Nate?”




mood
😀

location
rachel

outfit
something casual





playing...
i wanna slam my head against the wall
by glaive​




mentions
charlie, amy, evie, & ash

interactions
nate & cappie

tags
Winona Winona 0k_mang0 0k_mang0


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:









scroll








singer, rapper, s.writer



kordei.













mood

proud, kinda sorry, sheepish











outfit











location

location here











interactions

interactions here











tags

tags here
















Kelli was so nervous in the way she entered the room, as if an imminent end awaited her in the depths of that studio. Dei simply watched plainly while she set up the system- or drenched her keyboard with the sweat dripping from her fingers. A bit of both. There wasn’t much to say to her quiet murmurs while she did so. A desperate attempt to break the tension in the air, but she’d never have an opportunity like that in the business and hecticity of a real Winter Arts Festival.

Once again, Kordei tried to keep his lips from turning sour, or groaning out in displeasure. It was still too early to judge uber critically. He certainly wasn’t the best critic- there were probably others better suited for his role here. But he’d realized in that hallway that he wasn’t here to criticize the actual routine. The melange of calculated yet lithe movements to a beautiful symphony. No. Dei was here to help mold her character. To correct the lack of spine that she suffered from.

Why, exactly? He was rather unsure of that. It was truly a bizarre situation of wrong place, wrong time. Or from Kelli’s perspective, perfect place, perfect time.

Dei’s fingers tickled just beneath his lips, arms folded over his thighs as he leaned over to watch Kelli begin. She was choppy to start- broken in how she transitioned from move to move as if she were calculating each and every move. Thinking about it first before doing it, rather than doing it to then think about it later. But Kordei found that Kelli quickly shedded that awkwardness. He found himself smirking under his masking fingers as she wandered into another gear.

Perhaps it was his presence, or simply practicing with a bit more presence now, but there was certainly something there with this Kelli girl. A graceful gentility identical to how snowflakes danced, and sashayed onto the pavement. Kordei caught her eye then, only a momentary glance, but enough to pass on a message. She could be confident. She was confident.

Some way, somehow.

Dei simply chuckled, and although he’d only just met Kelli, something of pride burned in his chest. Dark eyes watched her spin, and spin, and spin to end the routine. A show of her elegance, practice, and self-assuredness. He watched her there, her breathing heavy, brown hair frizzed over her face, but that laugh jovial as a motherfucker.

Kelli hadn’t quite earned a standing ovation from Kordei Grant, but a sure nod would suffice.

“You lied to me.” Dei chuckled in response to her end of dance. “Not too shabby,” he added, eyes watching her as she moved to end the song. He sort of choked at the question when asked. He’d been avoiding his duties in the studio next door, and Dei didn’t need his time away being infected by that ordeal.
“I’m a musician, K. It’s people like you that dance behind me. I’ve just got to look pretty and know where to move so they don’t get in my way.” Dei snapped, and found that he instantly regretted it. He shuffled uncomfortably in his place on the bench. He huffed in place, before reaching for the hairbrush that stuck out from Kelli’s dufflebag.

He gripped the long end and bound into the center of the studio where she once was.

Dei handled the cosmetic appliance like a microphone. Darkened eyes raised slowly up from the floor, and his free hand pointed up at the roof, balled up in a fist. The tapping at his sneakers echoed a beat in his head that counted him into song. Still, without the audio of his songs playing through the sound system, he looked like a joke.

Kordei found Kelli once again, this time looser, and chuckling and he double stepped to the side with arms painted wide. They closed tight in his newer position, and the routine continued in a mess of short bursts of actions followed by brief singing, and then a repeat. Sing, dance, sing dance. The playbook of other hip-hop, pop greats such as Michael Jackson, Chris Brown, Usher, to name a few.

For Dei though, his seriousness faded and the goal of his routine was only to make Kelli laugh. To atone for how he might’ve acted earlier, and maybe because the kid was genuinely growing onto him. In only a couple seconds, he’d grown a soft spot for her and couldn’t help but chuckle when he’d finished the mock intro for his choreography.

His tired laughs echoed against the walls as Dei finished it in the final pose for that part of the routine. Microphone fist up, and legs shoulder width apart.

“That's what you wanted?” He asked as he finally broke from the loose routine and headed towards her. “Doesn’t really touch your routine but dancing isn't my main thing, okay? I’ve just watched a lot of people dance so it helps me judge you,” Dei teaseed.

“I’ll watch you, though. At the festival. I’ll be there and I’ll judge everybody that judges you. Probably much harder, and meaner… Louder, even.”

ohdittoh ohdittoh



♡coded by uxie♡
 






MICHAEL K. REID​


Gen laughed. “You’re going to regret saying that, you know,” she said. “Anyone who decides to stick around gets hurt. I can’t tell if you’re an idiot or a glutton for punishment at this point.”

Mike had never been so fucking glad to be snarked at.

Never in his life did he ever think that hearing Gen’s biting attitude would send a small bloom of relief through his chest, but when he heard it, the sullen little heart in his chest gave a thankful throb.

(Yeah, he had a heart. Hahaha, you were so goddamn funny with that joke that he’d never heard before in his life. Damn, that was right up there with the horny midget jokes, man. Did you want a medal? Here, he had one for you; it was engraved with the old Norse proverb, Nobody fucking laughed.)

It wasn’t a throb in the ”awww woooook so sweeeet hew wowds bwightened up the woom" kinda way. Fuck no — if Mike ever said anything along those lines, especially about Genevieve Johannes, you could shoot him. Seriously, just fucking put him down.

But it was one in the way that he felt…he didn’t know, fucking reassured, he guessed. ”There’s still some Gen left in those shambles.”

“She’s still the same girl beneath all of those tears.”

“That wreck? Yeah, it’s still just Gen.”


Ya know, after you saw the queen bitch cry, you couldn’t help but be fucking grateful for a snark.

Michael grinned. “A masochist or a moron…huh.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly and teasing, “Babe, why do you think I got tangled with you in the first place? I knew what I was getting myself into, ya know. Whether that makes me a masochist or an idiot, I guess that's for you to decide.”

He chuckled again, and as the sound dissipated, the air between them went quiet once more. It wasn’t heavy — or at least, not suffocatingly so — but he could feel the question he’d asked before hanging over their heads.

What’ll we do now, huh?

Where did they go from here? Back to being friends with benefits? Back to just being friends? Try to take things back to normal, the way that it’d all been before he caught Gen at her worst today, back before lock-in? Could they even really do that? Could he put his blinders back on, ignore everything that’d fucking happened?

Yeah, like him ignoring any elephants in any rooms ever fucking worked. If it did, then he wouldn’t’ve gone on that fair date with that goddamn redhead, wouldn’t’ve felt the need to pull Gen aside and bitch at her about the Liv shit, wouldn’t’ve drank himself to sleep with cheap beer in his grody ass bathtub on school nights.

He wasn’t cut out for thinking of things like this — of all of the ins and outs of this relationship or that relationship. He never had been, never would be. He just didn’t fucking understand it, never could really grasp it.

He didn’t even know how he fucking felt. He’d just watched Gen cry. Hadn’t laughed at her. Instead, he’d poured his goddamn heart out to her. Told her she wasn’t weak. Said he missed her, that he was her friend or whatever the hell. That he cared about her. And he offered her that question, that ”what’ll we do now, huh?”, gave her some sort of option, which was another fucking thing he never did. It was a lot to unpack, a lot of confusing shit that he didn’t know the why or the how of, and he didn’t fucking know.

Back to normal was where he wanted to go, though. He missed that shit — that shit, that familiarity. It wasn’t any uncharted territory, nothing he wasn’t used to.

But her hand reached up, brushed his skin and held his cheek, pulled him in — and he did yet another fucking confusing thing.

He let her, and he kissed back.

Shit, it felt different. Strange. Wrong. Foreign. It was unlike any kiss that they’d shared before — passionate, fueled not by the need to tug off clothes and grip skin and bite lips but by some kind of fucking emotion that he didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. If this was some sort of answer, it only served to confuse him more, because it felt —

He didn’t want to think about how it felt, not right now. Shit, he’d gone long enough with her today without thinking, so what was a little bit more?

He kept kissing her and kept letting her kiss him. Her hands moved to be around his neck, and his hands found her hips, but he felt no drive or push to move on or reach under her shirt or suggest they go someplace else. He only felt a tug to keep the moment going, to keep this momentum, to keep whatever bullshit he was feeling channeled into their connected lips because the air said that this was right, because his body said that this was right, because him, not thinking about what he was fucking doing, said that this was right.

And then, Gen dropped her arms from Mike’s neck, breaking the kiss and turning away from him. He stared at her, his heart slamming against his chest. “I…,” she stammered, raising her hands to her lips. “I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

And he finally came to his fucking senses.

Shit.

Shit, what had he done?

His heart ramped up its speed, and a wave of something like regret spread through him. He looked away as he tried to catch his breath, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. He put his hands on his hips again, his face heating.

Mike’d had low points in the past — super fucking low points. But even at those low points, he never thought that he’d be in a room with Genevieve Johannes after a passionate makeout fucking considering —

God.

He never got fucking embarrassed, but whatever the hell that was? Holy shit, that was embarrassing.

He never considered that he’d ever be fucking considering that he felt some kind of something beyond friendship towards her.

That was just fucking stupid — and there was no fucking way he cared about her any more than a friend would.

Like he cared about fucking anyone like that.

Even if he knew how that shit felt, there was no way he actually felt that way. It had to be the heat of the moment or —

Fuck.

Fuck, the silence was tense.

He shook his head and laughed, trying to break the tension. “Nah. ’s fine.” He reached up and rubbed his neck, chuckling again, attempting to regain his cool in spite of his pattering heart. He stole a glance at her, but his eyes quickly darted away.

Shit, he couldn’t look at her.

He laughed once more, walking back over to the camera that Gen had just set up. “Speaking of what we should do now,” Mike said, swiftly trying to change the subject, “we should really get work. Not much time left for us to just be throwing it away, huh?” He grinned over his shoulder at her, managing to look at her. “Y’know, babe, lunch’s almost done, daylight’s wastin’, and you and I’ve got some serious shit to do. Either we haul ass, or they'll haul our asses offstage,” he added with a chuckle.

Fuck it, suddenly he wanted to gain the ability to ignore the elephant in the room.

All he had to do? Fucking sweep that shit under the rug.




mood
...

location
art studio

outfit
something casual





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​




mentions
n/a

interactions
gen

tags
geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:






Elizabeth Sterling


Honestly, Beth should be paid for this kind of charity work. Or perhaps she could jot this down on college applications or something of the sort to try and impress the schools? A simple little "tour guide and part-time tutor." Sure, neither of those things were entirely true, but they weren't... untrue.

She was just buffing them both out. Making them seem a little bigger and more important then they were. Because, in reality, all she'd done was help Kelli show Bella around the school (and poorly, might she add), and now, she'd offered to help Kinni work on some ridiculous paper for some class. Beth hadn't actually asked for any of the details, because she didn't really need details to write something and make it sound good.

Beth could figure that out when she got there.

She moved along briskly, her long legs carrying her easily as she weaved her way through the labyrinthine-like hallways of HA. Trying to create a school that focused on young celebrities (or however you decided to classify them) and deciding to focus on five different departments meant that the school was large. It was easy enough to get lost or turned around, and she supposed that was why people chose to stick to their specific departments more than anything else.

Eventually, the library came into view, and Beth's footsteps sped up. She stepped through the door, the colder air of the library hitting her. It was strange to her how cold libraries always were and, highly expecting this, she already had a sweater pulled on to keep herself from growing too cold.

She moved further into the library, her eyes locking briefly with the librarian's, and Beth gave a smile and a little nod of her head. What? She was a literature student, which meant that she spent a lot of time in the library, which meant that she was basically on a first name basis with the librarian at this point.

Her pale gaze examined the tables as she walked along, briskly snapping from person to person as she tried to find Kinni and then finally, after wandering the majority of the library, she found her settled in a back corner of the library, away from the main hubbub and busyness of the rest of the library.

Well, if you could consider a handful of students quietly reading or wandering about busy.

"Hello," Beth greeted with a pleasant enough smile as she dropped her backpack to the ground beside her chair and slid into a chair next to Kinni. "Alright, what are we doing? Where's your paper? And what's it on?" She asked with a heavy sigh, naturally getting straight down to business.

Listen, Beth was clearly a very busy girl, and she didn't have a lot of time to mess around with beating around the bush. None of that "hi, how are you?" nonsense would leave her lips. Not while she was on a mission to assist in something that was clearly as serious as writing some paper.

She held her hand out, making a little grabbing motion with her fingers. "Coffee?"

And then after a moment, as an afterthought, she added; "Please?"




mood
happy, i guess

location
library

outfit
just imagine something cute, man





playing...
It's Still Cool If You Don't
by Briston Maroney​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Kinni

tags
AkuTheWolfOkami AkuTheWolfOkami


º º code by ditto º º
 
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
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.
"Day by day..." Newt repeated. The teenager knew he had a tendency to zone out even while talking to someone so he had taken to repeating things back to people when they spoke to him, as a sign that he was in fact listening. Unfortunately this was starting to become a habit, which meant that he was becoming able to repeat things back to people without actually listening. This instance however he was indeed listening. "Carpe that diem." A motto that Newt most certainly followed. Most days he spent just chasing that next hit of dopamine. Whatever he could find to focus his attention that's where he'd go.

Newt mindlessly applied the hand sanitizer given to him as his mind began to wander into beats that he enjoyed. He rested his chin in his palm as his foot tapped and he blankly watched Kayla eat some of the snacks he had provided for her. When she brought out the drum pad and drum machine his mismatched eyes lit up like a match. While it could never compare to actually playing, Newt really loved the ability to explore possibilities and mindlessly create with the machine, and the portability of the pad.

A wide grin spread across Newt's face when Kayla praised his idea. "Sometimes the hamster wheel provides." he joked while tapping his temple with his finger. "Do you think it'd be better to like...come up with a general idea of what the song will be first, or totally improv the day of?" He was confident that they would be able to sync up their styles enough to create something interesting, but the question was do they take the risk for a bigger payout? "Aww you flatter me...I was about to say something about how I'm not that good, but that wouldn't inspire very much confidence in my partner. So instead, I'll say you're way more talented. And back it up with the fact that like...you've done shit. Whereas I..." he trailed off, eyes flicking to the phone vibrating on the table, before back to Kayla.

"Do you need to take that?" There was still plenty of time to work on their project and Newt would take any chance he could to procrastinate (much like a certain somebody). Plus he never really thought of himself as that important so he figured the call would probably take precedence over him. That wasn't to say he thought he didn't matter, Newt just couldn't wrap his head around the idea that maybe people didn't think of him last. Being an afterthought was totally okay with him too; it allowed him more time to just let his mind wander while people got to him. Sure it was maybe a little lonely being in his own head all the time, but the beauty of a mind of fleeting thoughts was that negative emotions didn't last very long either. Without a continual reminder of the cause of the emotion, they just sort of fell away.

Once it appeared that Kayla had finished setting up her computer and systems Newt's hands stretched out impatiently and began pushing at the buttons. It was hard to control himself around buttons, and god forbid someone mention bubble wrap around him. Fingers moved swiftly over the surface of the machine, carefully pressing each button and listening to what kind of sound was pre-stored on it. Newt's eyes lit up with a childlike wonder and a stupid grin spread across his face. If given the chance he'd sit there and play with it for hours. "So, I tend to lean towards a punk rock type of style, and I know you..well don't. What if....we do sound fusion? Do you think our styles would mesh well together if fused?"
code by valen t.
 






Tilly Phoenix




Somewhere between barely holding on since her breakup, something that has utterly broken the painter and putting on a brave, thinly-veiled front that took its most pathetic form in a smile, Tilly felt herself trying desperately to latch onto it because Maeve had such a sincerity to her that she almost felt guilty for lying. But as much as she hated feeling the way she did about someone she had fell head over heels for, she hated it even more if she was the source of ruining Maeve's day by unleashing all of her torment on the redhead.

And she just couldn't bear it if that happened to be the outcome that she knew was very likely to happen.

So she kept quiet.

Or she wanted to.

The truth was, the universe felt like testing Matilda Phoenix's resolve, which was as shaky as someone with a poor sense of balance trying to stand up on a surfboard.

"Are you worried about something?-"

Ohnoohnoohnoohno..

Tilly began to panic internally. She knew she wasn't going to survive long. Why did she have to be cursed with both a low tolerance to pain and a low tolerance to the art of a poker face. Maeve was going to find out and Tilly wouldn't be able to lie; and because of her inability to tell a lie, like she was some sad excuse of a genderbent George Washington who couldn't tell a lie. Or maybe Tilly was misremembering. Who knew? She could have seen it on a cartoon from when she was younger and she knew how much the truth of those was fabricated for entertainment.

"--The Arts Festival perhaps? I haven't been able to have a good rest either thinking how things would come out, but I believe is always nice to have someone to talk too when things get a little overwhelmed I might not be well known in painting but I can be someone that you can rant with if things are not going how you want to. I have been told that I'm quite a good listener"

Oh. You mean she didn't...

Okay, she felt stupid for her internal meltdown just a few moments ago. Of course Maeve was thinking about the Arts Fest.

And now Tilly was, too.

And she remembered that her project wasn't even close to being done. Actually, if Tilly was being completely honest with herself, not only was it nowhere to being completed but there was a severe lack of a clear ending in sight. She was gonna devote it to someone, but obviously, she can't now for...obvious reasons.

"You caught me!" Tilly falsely admitted, chuckling nervously. The admission might've been a lie, but the stress for Arts Fest was as genuine as anything else about Tilly was. "I'm so behind and I also kinda need to find someone to animate a short part in the beginning. If I dont..well, I don't know. I guess I could try my hand at it, but I was never good with anything technology-related."

As she started to frown, Maeve's suggestion of eating the cupcakes she made last night and finished early this morning turned it immediately upside down on itself and she giggled. "You are so right! And, I didn't really make these for anyone or any special reason," she admitted to the redhead, "I...well, I was stressed about...the Arts Fest this past weekend, so I decided to bake. I'm not exceptionally skilled at it, but my nan -- that's my Pa's ma -- shared the family recipe with me and taught me how to bake." Though she was still smiling, Tilly was immediately reminded of how much she missed her family, which resulted in a somewhat somber gleam in her eyes. "And whenever I feel lonely, I make this cause it reminds me of how much I love my family."

Among other reasons.

"But yeah!" Tilly shook her head. "We can definitely eat a couple. Or three? Wait, how many did you say you wanted to eat again?"





Now Playing...Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi










mood: Lost in her own head

location: At school in the halls somewhere

outfit: A girl in red

mentions: Ex-Boyfriend Jamie and sweet, kind Maeve

interactions: Maeve

tags: @Stardust Galaxy


º º code by ditto º º
 






Ava Sanders


She relaxed a bit, the worry that had been tensing her muscles dissipating when she finally saw Amy laugh. It was such a simple act, but it made Ava kind of glad and kind of relieved to know that Amy was laughing. Like, she was a nice girl, she hadn't done anything wrong probably ever, so the fact that she was consistently so torn up over such dumb shit was... it kind of pissed Ava off, to be perfectly honest.

Ava didn't quite understand why Amy wasn't capable of just ignoring everyone and just avoiding the drama, to be honest. But it was the same thing with Jules -- she seemed to always get involved, and Ava wasn't sure that she would ever understand. Kind of came with the territory of not giving a fuck.

She gave a light laugh back as Amy sang that little fuck you song. Yeah, see? She totally fucking got it. And it was just nice to see Amy being able to laugh, being able to joke about the whole thing. She'd been dealt a really shitty hand over the last couple months or so, and the fact that she was still able to keep her head up and laugh... it was impressive, to say the least.

"I think that's the best advice I've been given in a while." She giggled. "Thanks Ava. You'll be in my nice thank you speeches".

"I better be mentioned first in your speeches," Ava teased.

"Tho...uh I might have to ask you for help on any speech writing." Amy added. "Never been my forte."

She let out a heavy sigh. "Speech writing isn't my forte, either," Ava admitted. "If there's no like... fucking zombies and shit. Like cool bloody shit, I just kinda..." she gave a helpless shrug of her shoulders. "I get bored, I guess. I dunno. But uh... yeah, yeah, I can try and help you. It'll be good to uhh... expand my writing skills or... whatever."

Yeah.

Yeah that made total sense.

She picked up her can of pop and took a sip as she settled back in her chair. She set the can back down and tapped her knuckles against the cool lunch table top.

"Aight, think we can power through this whole game before class?" Ava asked with a grin as she readied her controller and got comfortable in her seat to start playing again.




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 Kitsune2202


º º code by ditto º º
 






kellian phelan


Kellian Phelan didn’t think she was really all that smart, or pretty, or talented. She didn’t think she was clever or witty or funny. She didn’t really think too much about herself at all. In all honesty, the only thing she really had to offer was the collection of gifs of puppies that she’d collected over the past year or so, and even then, she relied on her friends and brother to do the rating of the gifs for her, because her senses said that all of them were grade A material when that surely wasn’t the case.

She knew she was too harsh on herself, from what her mom and her dad and her brother and her therapist and her new friends had told her, but a lot of times, it was easy to forget and get swept under her low self-esteem.

But there were certain, rare times that she felt a small surge of confidence, one that told her that, heck, maybe she was kind of smart, or kind of pretty, or kind of talented, or kind of clever, or kind of witty, or kind of funny.

And the nod — the certain, sure, approving nod — that Kordei Grant gave her and the words that followed helped to give her that small, temporary little boost of confidence. Not because she knew him or that his approval really had any bearing on anything, but just because she’d fully expected him to absolutely ream her. He seemed like the type — the serious, aggressive kind to stomp all over anyone given the chance, and she’d given him this super wide shot.

But no. No, he just nodded, and then chuckled, “You lied to me. Not too shabby.”

The smile that played at her face was still nervous, still pumped full of the anxiety that she’d felt waiting for his reaction. It was small and wavery before it flattened out into a broader smile, but it betrayed the fact before she even said anything — those words meant a lot more to her than he really even knew.

“R-really?” she asked hopefully, and then she giggled softly. “Wow…uh, thanks!”

Her smile faded as Dei answered her question in a snappy sort of way. “I’m a musician, K,” he said. “It’s people like you that dance behind me. I’ve just got to look pretty and know where to move so they don’t get in my way.”

She looked away, her confidence overtaken by the nervousness from his sudden, aggressive reaction. She swallowed, her face reading surprise before it pressed into awkward nervousness — the same way it’d been before the performance, but more down, less upbeat. “Oh, right,” she said, and she laughed slightly. “Sorry.”

Dei let out a small huff, and she glanced up to see him reach down and grab the sparkly, pink hairbrush from her duffle. Her expression shifted to one of curiosity, her lips relaxing and her brows raising slightly.

He gripped the handle and bounded towards the center of the studio, and when he came to a stop, he did something that Kelli never expected the serious-seeming boy to do: his eyes raising up from the floor, his fist pointing towards the roof, and his feet tapping a beat, Kordei began to handle the hairbrush like a microphone.

Kelli blinked, putting a hand over her mouth, and he turned around. He chuckled, double-stepping to the side with wide-painted arms, which then closed into another position, and then, he started to sing. It went on like that for a few moments — singing, dancing, singing, dancing — all kinds of songs and all kinds of dances, before Kelli’s expression began to turn.

She tried to stifle her laughter at first, pressing the back of her fist to her lips and attempting to force the corners of her mouth downward, but soon, giggles bounced their way through her nose, and then full laughs, and then she had to drop her arms to hold her stomach as loud laughter rocked her body, all whilst watching this serious, seemingly-domineering figure bound around all not-serious, doing a routine straight out of some kind of fever dream. Her laughter, as uncontrollable as the wide smile on her face, echoed off of the walls and continued to echo with Dei’s even in the moments following his final power pose: microphone fist up and legs shoulder-width apart.

She managed to control her laughter enough after a few seconds to bring her hands together in a round of applause as he asked, “That’s what you wanted?”

Kelli laughed again, shaking her head, unable to fight the bright smile on her face. “It was dope, man!” she cheered. “Seriously killer!” Which wasn’t a lie — it was killing her gut right now.

He started towards the giggling girl. “Doesn’t really touch your routine but dancing isn’t my main thing, okay? I’ve just watched a lot of people dance so it helps me judge you,” he teased. “I’ll watch you, though. At the festival. I’ll be there and I’ll judge everybody that judges you. Probably much harder, and meaner…louder, even.”

“Dope!” she laughed, saying her favorite, positively-all-encompassing-for-positively-every-positive-occasion adjective. It felt more natural now, the air between them, and something about his threat to judge the people who judge hers made her already wide smile pull even wider. Her giggles finally came to a stop, but the brightness in her smile remained as she looked up at him. “You’ll seriously come watch me?” she asked. “I’d love to see you in the audience, bro! Er…Dei, sorry.” She laughed slightly, unsure if they were acquainted or bonded or something enough for her to call him bro. She shook her head shyly. “You don’t have to feel obligated to, though, if you don’t wanna…but if you do, I’ll make sure I get a spot reserved for my own personal critic-critic!”

She laughed again. “I’ll come to see you perform, too! If your little snippets of singing during that…” She struggled for the right descriptor, her brows and nose scrunching “…absolutely-dope-no-ifs-ands-or-buts-about-it song-and-dance routine over there…” She laughed, her expression turning back to its previous brightness. “If your little snippets during that were any hint of what you’re capable of, then I’m ready to see your actual serious full-blown thing! I’m sure it’s gonna be hella dope, dude!”

Now, she didn’t even think of calling him that term.

She smiled at him once more, and then she gasped. “Oh, wait! Wait, I’ve got something for you.” She walked over to her duffle and unzipped the top, and then reached in and pulled out a small, purple, glittery journal that she used to log her practice times. Flipping over the front (which had a unicorn and the words ”be unique” on it), Kelli knit her eyebrows, her eyes scanning something on the inside cover until she finally muttered, “Aha!” She reached down and started to pick at something, and a few seconds later, she lifted her finger up to show a small something on the end of it.

Folding her journal and sitting it back on top of her duffle bag, she smiled down at the thing for a second, then she looked back up at Dei. “Here,” she said, walking back over to him and hiding the hand with the thing on the finger behind her back. She held out her other hand. “Gimme your hand,” she requested, and she grabbed gently onto her wrist.

She pulled the other hand from behind her back and pressed something onto the back of his hand. She rubbed her thumb along it to make sure it stuck, and then she took her thumb away to reveal what it was: a small, round sticker with a periwinkle background and a yellow butterfly drawn on it, with the purple words, “Great job!”, coming from it in a speech bubble, though it was so small those words could barely be read.

She smiled up at him for a second, offering no explanation before she pranced back to her bag and quickly retrieved another sticker, sticking it to the back of her own hand. She turned her hand around for him to see, smiling.

“See?" She looked over at her sticker, and then over at his. "Look, we’re matching.” She giggled, walking back to him. She put hers down beside his and admired them for a second, then looked up at the taller boy. “I just thought, ya know…we both kinda needed something.” She smiled, shrugging slightly. “You looked pretty down out there…and I think friends should help their friends to smile. You already helped me, so I hoped this would help you, too, maybe. Or something.” She balled her hand into a fist and gave his arm a gentle nudge, giggling. “Bro,” she added.

She never expected it, but in her mind, there was not a single question about it anymore. By now, she'd concluded: they were one-hundred-thousand-million percent friends.




mood
friendship!

location
a dance studio

outfit
casual (+ crocs)





playing...
apple pie
by the scary jokes​




mentions
n/a

interactions
dei

tags
fin fin


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:



















Kaash



depression













Depression seemed to creep up on Kayla at the worst times. It was never when she had nothing to do or friendships to maintain. No. That would be way too simple, wouldn’t it? It would make the charade of normalcy that she showcased moot. It wouldn’t be a need for it. She could stay cooped up in her room and drown in her depression at her leisure if she didn’t have any responsibilities. That probably wouldn’t be a problem if she wanted to live the life of a recluse, but if she was being honest. That wouldn’t work for her.

Do you think it'd be better to like...come up with a general idea of what the song will be first, or totally improv the day of

The words rattled around her head as she tried to process what was the best answer. Her apathy had crept in and she didn’t care in this moment, but she knew that wasn’t going to do. And in truth – she did care. There were very few things she genuinely cared about, and Newt was one of them. Her depression was just sort of kicking the snot out of her again.

“I think we can probably come up with like a baseline concept to build on. Like already have the instruments we want loaded in and maybe a few of the baseline like…um..beats? You know like maybe already know the bass and kick patterns we want? And then go from there?”


Aww you flatter me...I was about to say something about how I'm not that good, but that wouldn't inspire very much confidence in my partner. So instead, I'll say you're way more talented. And back it up with the fact that like...you've done shit. Whereas I...

Do you need to take that?


She looked over to her phone which vibrated after he asked if she needed to take that. Her hands slowly reached out to grab the phone as she began to talk,
“Newt. First of all, you are the most amazing person I have ever met second of all I haven’t done any…”
she trailed off as she read over the text that she had received.

She sat the phone down and looked back to where Newt was starting to press buttons on the drum machine. Different sounds began to echo out and she wondered what he had in mind. She was sure he had familiarity with what the equipment could do, but still,
“We can load any sounds in there you want. And remember we can record our instruments as we play them and loop them too. So, I figure, we can have a drum set, a sax, guitar and a keyboard. Along with the beat machine of course. I think this would be a good opportunity to make something happen.”


She smiled as she thought more about it. If it was something that came out really well then, she could definitely use it on her album and that would solve a lot of issues later down the line. She had been struggling with coming up with new songs ever since she had gotten back from rehab, which had delayed her work on her on the new album. She wanted to release it on her birthday, but she had a total of one song done and her birthday was in like 60 days.

So, I tend to lean towards a punk rock type of style, and I know you..well don't. What if....we do sound fusion? Do you think our styles would mesh well together if fused?

Kayla thought about what he said and let it play in her mind and smiled,
“I love the idea! Let’s get with it. I think we can get something crackin’ for real.”
She was about to reach for the laptop when her phone vibrated again, and she sighed and looked it over.

She went quiet for a second and let a slow sigh escape her glossed lips as she closed her eyes,
“So, apparently my first single I released on soundcloud was featured in a tiktok and now has gone gold and platinum. Another label has reached out and want one of their artists to do a remix to it. My label wants to buy the distribution rights to my first album, remaster it, and rerelease it along with the new remix as an album under their label.”


On the surface it might all have sounded like welcomed news, but for Kayla it was probably the most stressful news she could have gotten. She knew that there was a lot of legal implications that came along with what they were suggesting. She knew it was probably more money upfront, but does it mean she doesn’t own her original masters from her independent music?

She went quiet again and the urge to take pills again started to creep in. She rubbed her shoulders for a bit, and started to rock,
”Yo-…you wanna um…” she began to stammer as she tried to get her words, “Just pick up again tomorrow? I have an um..date.. so maybe we ca- can meet in the morning?”













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:






Casey Clairmont


Boooo. Bella was a mood killer. First, she had the audacity to yell at both Casey and Avery to shut up, and then she yanked Casey's arm down (which kind of made him feel bad because this meant he didn't hold as much power over short people as he thought he did), and then she yanked the journal from his hand.

Jeez Louise, goodness gracious, she could've been a little nicer about it. While she flipped through the journal, Casey pulled his arm close to his torso. His lips downturned into a frown as he rubbed at his wrist which had clearly been very, very, very badly injured by what had just occurred.

And then she had the audacity to lecture him! As if him flipping through her private journal was an intrusion on her privacy or som--

Oh wait.

Well either way! He'd been looking for a name so he knew who to return it to. He could've very well just left the journal there to rot in the middle of the hallway, being trampled by the heathens that they went to school with, but no! Casey had risked his very life to help her out.

With that, Bella turned and stomped away.

Well.

Casey turned to look at Avery, and he just gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Wanna go and see how many gummy worms we can eat? First person that pukes loses." He asked, giving a little bounce as he did so.

Unfortunately, before Avery could respond, Bella came back over. Casey's bouncing ceased and he looked down at the short girl, his head tilting slightly to the side like a curious dog as he waited to hear what she had to say to him and his good buddy Avery. Was it going to be another insult?

Bella wrapped her arm around Avery's waist and said something about taking him to get food and water, which just earned a heavy sigh from Casey because well... that would mean he'd be alone again.

But then she looked at him.

“And you…” He perked up as Bella started to talk. “If you want to work together, fine. Meet us in the music room in ten minutes and do not be late.”

A grin broke out across his face. "Aye, aye, captain, see ya all in a bit. In the music room. To practice and do the ol'..." he brought his hands up to hold an air guitar and fake played on it.

With a laugh, Casey watched as Bella and Avery walked away, and then he turned on his heel and bounced his way towards the music rooms.

--------------------​

Ten minutes was forever.

Or at least it felt like forever that Casey was sitting on a stool in one of the music rooms, his guitar balanced across his lap, his right foot tapping away as he waited. He had tuned his guitar half a million times, he'd played through a few songs half a dozen times, and now he was just bored and groaning.

And then finally -- freaking finally -- the door opened and there they were. Avery and Bella, and Casey perked up in his seat, giving a little bounce.

"Hi, hi, hi," he said with a wide grin. He gestured to the chairs in the music room. "Take a seat. Or, or, or, actually, uhh..." he paused for a moment, and then he hopped down from his stool, setting his guitar down on top of it, and then he went over to a corner of the room to grab another stool, which he dragged over to sit next to his. He then climbed back up onto his stool, placing the guitar back on his lap, and patted the stool next to him.

"Bella, sit here," he directed, and then his hands went back to rest on the guitar. He nodded his head at her. "Aight, gimme the poem and then wa-- well, listen as I make it sound real, real good."




mood
the villain to my superhero

location
schoolio

outfit
oh look, not a band shirt





playing...
I'm Ready
by AJR​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Bella, Avery

tags
geminiy geminiy Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 






Jace West


Maybe he had been kind of asking for it, and that was probably obvious to nearly everyone except Jace (and Dorian, who would remain stoically on his side like the amazing best friend that he was). Perhaps he would've been fine if he'd just kept it to yelling at his little sister, but he did have to add in a little poke into Javi's broad, muscular chest which almost felt like poking a brick wall -- an act which in some capacity, he knew would piss off the other boy.

And then Javi's hand shot forward and grabbed his finger, and that was about the moment that Jace realized he'd royally fucked up. "Owowowowowowow," was whispered under his breath as fresh tears threatened to start pouring from his eyes. It hurt and he was sure that the finger was going to be fractured at best.

Thankfully, Javi released his fingers, but started demanding that he apologize -- to him, to his freaking sister, and then for being born -- but before Jace could spout off (and probably for the best in this instant), Javi sent a fist flying into the skinny boy's abdomen.

Jace crumpled instantly, the breath being knocked out of his lungs in one fell swoop as he doubled over, his arms crossing over his stomach. It took a moment for the little punching bag to gain his breath back and for the shock to fade from his system -- when it did, he felt a hand on his back, which he had assumed was Dorian, but glancing over, he realized was none other than Ash aka the cause of all of this, so he shrugged it off and took a step away from her as he straightened up.

And as he straightened up, he saw the fight that was going on before them. Javi and his best friend, the most amazing guy to ever exist, the absolute king, the sexy beast that was Dorian Levi Harlow. That absolute beast of an amazing man that was now fighting it out for Jace's honor.

What a king.

"Yeah!" Jace yelled, which probably wasn't the best idea right now as he cupped his hands around his mouth. They were already starting to draw a crowd. "K-kick his a--"

Before he could finish his sentence, a soft blow was sent into his stomach, but it was still hard enough for him to let out a mangled gasp as the rest of his sentence caught in his throat.

"What is wrong with you?" Ash hissed from beside him.

"Y-you started... started t-t... this," he snapped back, waving his hand in the direction of Javi and Dori.

Javi's voice drew Jace's attention back to the fight.

"I bet your sociopathic sister thinks you're a fucking pussy. You and the useless piss bitch."

Hurtful.

And then Javi lunged in his direction, and Jace did the only thing he knew how to do in these situations -- evidenced by an extreme history of scary people lunging in his direction, and him diving behind the nearest safe source... so yeah... yeah, he dove behind his little sister.

Granted, she was several inches shorter than him, and no amount of crouching was really going to hide him behind her, and she quickly reacted by elbowing him and then stepping out of the way -- so Jace was once again in pain and once again exposed for the likes of psycho Javi.

"Did your ugly-ass ghost boyfriend give you a black eye fucking your face last night?" Javi teased, "I bet he was real proud of the way you stood there drooling while he shit-talked your sister."

Jace, in his endless dumbassery, shoved his sleeves up. Well, well, well. Dori was still here, Dori was still truly capable of fighting for Jace's honor, so the scrawny blonde stepped forward again and this time, instead of shoving his finger into Javi's chest, he just waggled it near the boy's face.

"Fu... fuck you," a round of applause since he managed to get that out with barely a stutter? "Y-you don't k-know anything, s-she started it."

That seemed to be his argument towards everything.

"Boys."

Jace's stomach did a flip as he slowly turned, and his face paled when his fears were concerned.

Standing there, a teacher.

"Office. Now."

"No," Jace squeaked. "Nonononono."

Of course, no amount of repeating the word "no" was going to save him and before Jace knew it, he was being marched down the hallway to the office like a common criminal beside Dori and Javi. He looked absolutely pathetic beside them, but he wasn't even able to really comprehend that.

There was too much fear and panic in his head.

His mom was going to kill him.

And as he was seated in the office, the tears finally broke free and started to drip down his cheeks.




mood
NONONONONONONONO

location
hall

outfit
like just a sweater and jeans





playing...
pity party
by lovelytheband​




mentions
N/A

interactions
Dorian, Ash, Javi

tags
jasmyn jasmyn Winona Winona hery hery


º º code by ditto º º
 






Ashton West


Now... it was probably important to note that Ash hated fights, she hated confrontation, she hated anything that involved yelling, let alone punching. Both tended to cause Ash to completely, or nearly completely shutdown, and once she regained mobility, it often involved her locating the nearest bottle of alcohol and drinking until she felt okay again or until she was blackout drunk -- and it generally ended up being that second outcome.

(But no, she didn't need therapy, nor was she considered "unstable.")

So when Javi grabbed Jace's finger, and then when he delivered a punch into her older brother's abdomen, she didn't move, except to flinch away, her eyes squeezing shut as if the next punch might come towards her.

Obviously, she knew it wasn't, and this was all just reflex.

Her eyes fluttered open and she watched as Javi and Dorian started to fight. There was some kind of yell that started to form on her lips, to try and get them to stop, but the words died on the edge of her tongue and her dry mouth was speechless as she watched beside Jace.

She glanced towards her brother, who was still doubled over in pain, and she reached over to rest a hand on his back. Of course, once he recovered, he glanced over to realize it was her and shrugged her hand off as he straightened up and took a step away from her. All this did was earn a shake of the head from Ash.

"Yeah!" Jace yelled, which startled Ash. "Kick his a--"

She lightly smacked him in the stomach with the back of her hand (but it probably felt a lot harder on his already bruised abdomen), shooting him a dark glare. "What is wrong with you?" She snapped.

"Y-you started... started t-t... this," Jace snapped back at her.

At that... Ash was struck silent, up until Javi lunged in Jace's direction and she instinctively flinched again as Jace dove behind her. Naturally, she elbowed her brother in the stomach and moved away from him.

And from there, well, you can just read Jace's post. Jace stupidly started poking at Javi again, arguing once more, although their little argument didn't go on for much longer before a teacher came up. Ash kind of shrank away, watching in silence as the teacher gathered Jace, Javi, and Dorian and started walking them away down the hallway.

She hesitated right there, her gaze following them as they disappeared down the hallway and, once they were gone and her frozen limbs were finally able to start moving once again, she felt the burning eyes of some of the nearby students. The ones that had paused to watch the fight -- which were obviously way too many people.

Awkwardly, she gave a tense smile to a few of them, and then she turned and slipped through the crowd and headed back towards her locker.

Totally not for the bottle of vodka she'd hidden in there.




mood
this bitch

location
hallway or something idk

outfit
omg great oufits





playing...
I Don't Know Why
by NOTD​




mentions
Trevor, Lucky

interactions
Dorian

tags
jasmyn jasmyn


º º code by ditto º º
 

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