Realistic or Modern Mistakes Were Made (IC)

[dirt]

nick tremblay

filler

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• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
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  mood

  
  
  

  a bit scared, but still curious

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  outfit

  click

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  location

  
  
  

  harborview university, new york city

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  interactions

  
  
  

  open!

  
  

  
  

  
  

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  tags

  
  
  

  N/A

  
  

  
  

  
  

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erik satie

gymnopedie no. 1
(just relax and read ig)

It was the morning of the ninth of September. A seemingly average, boring day that nobody at Harborview University seemed to care about. Nicolas Tremblay, just another average student at Harborview, woke up to the obnoxious but familiar sound of the beeping of an alarm clock. Groaning, Nick tossed himself closer to the edge of his bed, punching the "snooze" button and planting his feet on the floor. He stretched a bit before standing up, exhaustion pressing at his eyelids. A yawn escaped his lips, his eyes drifting to his last pack of cigarettes that were just lying there, practically begging to be smoked. It was a nasty habit, sure, but it was one that he could never quite control... he was unable to quit, no matter how hard he tried. Impulsively, he snatched the pack from his nightstand and slipped it in the pocket of his jeans, which he had fallen asleep in the night before. He slipped on a pair of sneakers and left his dorm, walking out into the hallway.

Nick stepped outside, the soft September breeze refreshing his body. The air smelled of weed and garbage, but that was typical for New York... everyone seemed to be used to it. He dragged his feet as he walked towards his first class. Yes, he was already late, but class was the absolute last thing on his mind. There were other things to do, more important things to think about. The upcoming party. His many, many friends. Hell, even the weather was more important than whatever he was about to walk in on. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the polluted sky above him. "What am I doing here?" he murmured, closing his eyes. He'd lived in New York City for his entire life, and he'd always wondered why everyone wanted so badly to visit. It was really nothing special, just an array of concrete buildings, trillions of unpleasant smells, and a high crime rate. He slowed down his pace even more as he got closer to the building where his classroom was, tempted to just sit down on the edge of the curb for a few hours. At least until all this "college" bullshit was over.

Suddenly, the crackling sound of a fire followed by the screams of a few students could be heard in the distance. Using the noises purely as an excuse not to go to class, Nick started walking in the direction where they were coming from. A large group of college idiots stampeded away from whatever the commotion was. One of them bumped into him and gave a quick "The fuck are you on?" before sprinting away. Nick gave an annoyed sigh, stepping off to the side and letting everyone pass. He couldn't just shove his way through this one. The area was eventually clear enough for him to walk closer to what caused everyone to panic. And what a sight it was. One of the buildings on campus, one that was known for being made of wood instead of concrete, was completely engulfed in flames. His eyes went wide and he covered his mouth with one of his hands.

I thought this was supposed to be a safe school? Like... no crime?

...

"Ho... ly... shit."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[miyabi]

This night has opened my eyes and I will never sleep again. You kicked and cried like a bullied child; a grown man of twenty-five. Oh, he said he'd cure your ills, but he didn't and he never will.

this night has opened my eyes by the smiths

· location

harborview uni; nyc.

· mood

tired.

· outfit

x

· mentions

none.

· interactions

open to interaction.

University, although a primary goal of his, never seemed quite in his scope; upbringing rough, family life difficult to manage, tied in with the fact that he'd been trouble most of his life. And yet, he managed to break from the confines of the destiny he was supposed to follow. He'd been in attendance for a near three years already, yet continued to lack being accustomed to the routine; each year different, unbeknownst to him, things would get worse -- his grades being the glue that held him together. Friends weren't exactly a thing of his either, only being close with Casimir and acquaintances with others; he didn't know how to trust, nor did he want to trust anybody. Not that nobody seemed trustworthy -- in fact, there were people more than trustworthy at the university; admittedly, they were naive people with poor judgement, but trustworthy nonetheless. He proved to be the opposite, or at least, liked to seem like it: nobody would confide in him, nobody would try to the best of their ability to befriend him -- and that was an idea he'd like to uphold.

He was neither misunderstood nor was he, for the most part, the type of man that needed explanation.

Some families weren't meant to be, hell -- some shouldn't have happened, and to put it plainly, that was Marco's case; riddled with hateful arguments, moved into his grandmother's small trailer park home, Marco was no stranger to tribulation. And his move off to university was no different; a new surrounding, unfamiliar city that he still needed to come to terms with, and an unhappy, near miserable shell of a human. His own self-discovery was still in progress, a meaningful life lost on him; as much as he’d hated to admit, he was stuck, but seeked no help. Most unpleasant of all? People would poke and prod with questions left unanswered -- the man turning a blind eye at his own emotional unrest; yet, he never was quite sure what these emotions were, nor was he ready to delve deeper into the unknown depths.

It was a sufficiently disorienting trait that, unbeknownst to him, caused more harm than intended; what was supposed to be a mechanism of protection proved the opposite.

This night has opened my eyes... and I will never sleep again.

The song had played on repeat, accompanying his thoughts as he lie in wake, pondering the ideas that ran rampant in his mind; he never slept much, too engrossed in his own ideas, evaluations, and self-criticisms. Dark brown orbs stared off at the ceiling, looking over the several posters haphazardly taped up onto it -- a few bands, inspirational quotes his grandmother sent him off with (the only real reminder of home that wasn't painful). He lay in contemplation: it wouldn't hurt to miss a class, but what would he miss? The coursework at hand was hefty, but he was never one to denounce his own capabilities. Was he excited about the idea of newfound knowledge? No.

And in this collection of thoughts, he'd made his decision -- nodding off a bit, sleepless night catching up to him, and yet he couldn't make it to the euphoric state of sleep. He was restless -- the feeling in his chest whirring with red hot frustration; his eyes shot back open, brain groaning with him as his body shot up, calloused and scared hands running through his hair; what the hell was he going to do now? Sitting in his dorm all day surrounded by nothingness didn't sound like the best idea, but neither did going out -- who knew what people would pester him. It was, however, better than dwelling in his own self-dealt loneliness; despite having a roommate, the man didn't seem especially present. With a faltered breath, he finally left the comfort of his bed, doing what he could to look put together -- even if he felt like shit. It's not like it mattered: nobody would judge you for what you wore, but Marco wanted to look like he wasn't, undoubtedly, an inward mess.

You're startin' to look like your dad more and more, Marco. Inner thoughts echoed in his brain as he stared off into the mirror, splashes of water on his cheeks; the man hated the idea of it -- being like his father, from the attitude to the looks and yet, he couldn't escape it. The longer he lived, the more he realized that he'd become more and more like him, that is, without the abusive tendencies. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head at the image before him, a solemn gaze at the man staring back at him. His face was a daily reminder, marred by the occasional scar, but a reminder no doubt; the spitting image of his own worst enemy and he could do nothing about it.

Balled into a fist, Marco's hand shook, but it only stopped at that -- actions not going a second further. He was sick of it.

After mere moments of staring off, criticizing himself, he finally left the messy dormitory; backpack lazily slung over his shoulder, disheveled in appearance, earphones in to block out his counterparts. He had no intention of going to class, no. Instead, he'd opted for the only real safe place he felt any semblance of a connection to: the library. As cheesy as it might've sounded, being surrounded by the smell of old books and serene silence brought Marco peace; the only time he'd truly be able to run away from the thoughts he could only wish away.

Tired eyes scanned the area as he walked, music blaring in his ears with every pass of a second; however, interrupted by curious onlookers and loud gasps, the scene was only short-lived. His first thought was to shove someone out of the way, but a single look upwards changed that -- there was a firm understanding as to why these reactions were clear as day: a building, most likely filled to the brim with students, caught on fire. Bright red flames emanated from the wooden interior, spreading onto the exterior wildly. Marco stopped in his tracks, pulling a single earbud from his ear as he stared up at the ghastly sight, mouth agape -- eyes wide. A horrendous smell caught in the air, smoke dissipating into the already polluted air; the air felt thick, enough to suffocate in.

He almost couldn't believe it. Who would've done this and why? And most importantly, why the fuck did it have to happen during campus hours?

marco garcia.

code by low fidelity.

mobile friendly:

Spoiler: mobile friendly

location: harborview uni; nyc.
mood: tired.
outfit: x
mentions: none.
interactions: open to interaction. ​

University, although a primary goal of his, never seemed quite in his scope; upbringing rough, family life difficult to manage, tied in with the fact that he'd been trouble most of his life. And yet, he managed to break from the confines of the destiny he was supposed to follow. He'd been in attendance for a near three years already, yet continued to lack being accustomed to the routine; each year different, unbeknownst to him, things would get worse -- his grades being the glue that held him together. Friends weren't exactly a thing of his either, only being close with Casimir and acquaintances with others; he didn't know how to trust, nor did he want to trust anybody. Not that nobody seemed trustworthy -- in fact, there were people more than trustworthy at the university; admittedly, they were naive people with poor judgement, but trustworthy nonetheless. He proved to be the opposite, or at least, liked to seem like it: nobody would confide in him, nobody would try to the best of their ability to befriend him -- and that was an idea he'd like to uphold.

He was neither misunderstood nor was he, for the most part, the type of man that needed explanation.

Some families weren't meant to be, hell -- some shouldn't have happened, and to put it plainly, that was Marco's case; riddled with hateful arguments, moved into his grandmother's small trailer park home, Marco was no stranger to tribulation. And his move off to university was no different; a new surrounding, unfamiliar city that he still needed to come to terms with, and an unhappy, near miserable shell of a human. His own self-discovery was still in progress, a meaningful life lost on him; as much as he’d hated to admit, he was stuck, but seeked no help. Most unpleasant of all? People would poke and prod with questions left unanswered -- the man turning a blind eye at his own emotional unrest; yet, he never was quite sure what these emotions were, nor was he ready to delve deeper into the unknown depths.

It was a sufficiently disorienting trait that, unbeknownst to him, caused more harm than intended; what was supposed to be a mechanism of protection proved the opposite.

This night has opened my eyes... and I will never sleep again.

The song had played on repeat, accompanying his thoughts as he lie in wake, pondering the ideas that ran rampant in his mind; he never slept much, too engrossed in his own ideas, evaluations, and self-criticisms. Dark brown orbs stared off at the ceiling, looking over the several posters haphazardly taped up onto it -- a few bands, inspirational quotes his grandmother sent him off with (the only real reminder of home that wasn't painful). He lay in contemplation: it wouldn't hurt to miss a class, but what would he miss? The coursework at hand was hefty, but he was never one to denounce his own capabilities. Was he excited about the idea of newfound knowledge? No.

And in this collection of thoughts, he'd made his decision -- nodding off a bit, sleepless night catching up to him, and yet he couldn't make it to the euphoric state of sleep. He was restless -- the feeling in his chest whirring with red hot frustration; his eyes shot back open, brain groaning with him as his body shot up, calloused and scared hands running through his hair; what the hell was he going to do now? Sitting in his dorm all day surrounded by nothingness didn't sound like the best idea, but neither did going out -- who knew what people would pester him. It was, however, better than dwelling in his own self-dealt loneliness; despite having a roommate, the man didn't seem especially present. With a faltered breath, he finally left the comfort of his bed, doing what he could to look put together -- even if he felt like shit. It's not like it mattered: nobody would judge you for what you wore, but Marco wanted to look like he wasn't, undoubtedly, an inward mess.

You're startin' to look like your dad more and more, Marco. Inner thoughts echoed in his brain as he stared off into the mirror, splashes of water on his cheeks; the man hated the idea of it -- being like his father, from the attitude to the looks and yet, he couldn't escape it. The longer he lived, the more he realized that he'd become more and more like him, that is, without the abusive tendencies. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head at the image before him, a solemn gaze at the man staring back at him. His face was a daily reminder, marred by the occasional scar, but a reminder no doubt; the spitting image of his own worst enemy and he could do nothing about it.

Balled into a fist, Marco's hand shook, but it only stopped at that -- actions not going a second further. He was sick of it.

After mere moments of staring off, criticizing himself, he finally left the messy dormitory; backpack lazily slung over his shoulder, disheveled in appearance, earphones in to block out his counterparts. He had no intention of going to class, no. Instead, he'd opted for the only real safe place he felt any semblance of a connection to: the library. As cheesy as it might've sounded, being surrounded by the smell of old books and serene silence brought Marco peace; the only time he'd truly be able to run away from the thoughts he could only wish away.

Tired eyes scanned the area as he walked, music blaring in his ears with every pass of a second; however, interrupted by curious onlookers and loud gasps, the scene was only short-lived. His first thought was to shove someone out of the way, but a single look upwards changed that -- there was a firm understanding as to why these reactions were clear as day: a building, most likely filled to the brim with students, caught on fire. Bright red flames emanated from the wooden interior, spreading onto the exterior wildly. Marco stopped in his tracks, pulling a single earbud from his ear as he stared up at the ghastly sight, mouth agape -- eyes wide. A horrendous smell caught in the air, smoke dissipating into the already polluted air; the air felt thick, enough to suffocate in.

He almost couldn't believe it. Who would've done this and why? And most importantly, why the fuck did it have to happen during campus hours?

 

[Eternal Prince]

Evren Zheng

❝ i won't sit still, look pretty ❞

Mood:

tired, curious, shocked

Location:

harborview uni, nyc

Outfit:

click me!

Tags:

none - open to interaction

The morning started the same as any other. Evren woke up several minutes before the alarm on his phone was set to go off, and he couldn't help but ask himself yet again why he continued to set it. It seemed pointless, really, but was a habit he couldn't break. His body was accustomed to this schedule now, he would without fail wake up at this time everyday. Others may have been envious that he seemed to have a built-in alarm clock, but to him it wasn't anything more than an annoyance on the days he wanted to sleep in. Sure, he could just roll over and go back to sleep without much issue, but it was frustrating nonetheless. Not that that was an option today, anyway. He had morning classes and no good reason to skip them, so he sat up in bed, grabbed his phone, and turned off the alarm before it got the chance to ring.

So cold. The room was always so cold when he woke up, making it that much harder to leave the warm comfort of his bed. He laid his phone back down on the side table where it had sat previously and pulled the covers up around his shoulders, savoring the warmth that embraced him. For several minutes he sat there, silently talking himself into getting up and ready for the day. Finally, he threw off the covers and shivered as the cool air surrounded him. Evren had always hated the cold. That would explain why he almost exclusively wore sweaters and jackets, regardless of the temperature outside — it was a bonus that they were cute and comfy too, much more so than t-shirts, at least in his opinion.

Trying to ignore the cold, Evren slid out of bed to get dressed. Had he ever mentioned just how much he hated how little storage there was in university dorms? It was a continuous nightmare trying to find the space to store and organize his ever-growing number of clothes — this was certainly not helped by the fact that he appeared to have two very distinct styles to accommodate for. A few years ago his closet had been made up of almost entirely black clothing, but as of late seemed to be overpowered by soft pastels instead. Despite this, he still wore both regularly and refused to get rid of anything. Not having the motivation to put much effort into his outfit, he grabbed some of the first pieces he saw and headed toward the bathroom to get ready.

He went through the routine as usual, changed into the jeans and sweater, threw on a belt to make himself look a bit more put together, brushed his teeth, and decided that his hair was fine as-is. He was thankful that his current style didn't require much upkeep, it was likely that no one would notice if he had or hadn't brushed it that morning. After exiting the bathroom, he made sure he had everything he needed in his backpack — phone, camera, laptop, books, and a bottle of iced coffee — and put in his earbuds before leaving the dorm, walking in the direction of his first class.

Something in a different direction caught his attention. People were staring, screaming, running — but because of what? Common sense was telling him to continue on his way, away from whatever the disturbance was, but when did Evren ever listen to that? He began walking in the direction everyone else was looking, pushing his way through the crowd of people who were running away. He got several confused and concerned looks, heard a few comments along the lines of idiot and what the fuck are you doing? but his curiosity was still in control. After making his way past the crowd of people, it became very clear what was causing such a reaction. Flames had engulfed one of the buildings, and dark clouds of smoke were rolling out of the broken windows.

Evren stared, taken aback by the scene in front of him. Unable to pull his eyes from the brightness of the flames, he fumbled around until he managed to pause his music and place his phone and earbuds in his backpack. His eyes and throat burned from the smoke, and he swore he could feel the heat even from such a distance away. Instinctively, he backed away, until he ran into something — the side of another building. Not sure what else to do and numb from the shock of it all, he sank to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest, and watched as the building continued to burn away.

♡design by stardust galaxy, coded by uxie♡

 

[.Curious.Nat.]

mood: nonplussed
outfit: outfit
location: Harborview Uni
mentions: n/a
interactions: n/a
tags: tags

Clementine Oakley

"He who fears he will suffer,
already suffers because he fears"

Clem woke up earlier than most days. Usually it'd be something really important she can't sleep in, but that was not the case. She didn't question the weird feeling she was getting off bit going to school. It's a blessing and a curse sometimes. She used to not be excited for school and stare at her alarm clock while the time when away from her before she went to hell. Now she's excited and nervous to get up for school in meet new people. It's like a whole new chapter in her life that she did everything was possible . She only hoped the she wouldn't get bullied on at all about her looks or the way she dresses.. Or even the way she talks.

Clementine did her bathroom routine and after that she slipped on her dress with some white shoes and a little cardigan to go over. New York weather was nice for her since she had been used to the cold seasons of Amsterdam. So she was feeling like dressing a little cute today. She wanted to put in a little bit of effort to try and prove to herself that she would be okay.

After Clementine was done getting ready, she had sprayed some perfume on her so she'd smell like oranges and mint. Looking in the mirror one more time she ruffled her auburn hair before grabbing her brown leather satchel, her earphones, and her mystery book Ghost Wood Song.

Clem was walking down the pavement her nose was stuck in the book, New Flesh by Current Joys blasting in her ears, and the sun was beaming down on her fair skin. She figured she'd go to the library before class to just relax. She was so intune with her reading she didn't hear people screaming. She didn't notice the people running.. nor the sky turning dim because of the smoke. That was until she was reading the line:

"If I could have a fiddle made of Daddy’s bones, I’d play it. I’d learn all the secrets he kept."

When her eyes began to get watery when she was so close to the library. "What the fuck?" She thought as she looked around smelling, faintly, smoke in the air. Her green eyes widened at the scene. The building..is on fire..? Give me a break.. she thought seeing everyone in a panic. Why was she calm? She had no fucking clue,but she did see some faculty members of the school leading students into the library. Her first instinct was to turn around, where the fire was in the distance.

I'd rather not be in a room squished with a lot of people. I'd take my chances with the fire.. oh my goodness just thinking that makes me insane doesn't it?

At she started to walk the other direction a faculty member stopped her to make her go to safety.. in the God damn library.

Clem decided that she would just make the most of it and sit next to a window so she found occasionally look towards the burning building while listening to her own music and reading her book. Her first day.. hadn't even fully started and now she's wondering who would even set the fire and was it intentional? Thoughts rushed through her mind as she remained quiet in the noisy library.. how fun.

Could today get anymore interesting?

º º code by ditto º º

 

[_gallifrog_]

- -HARRISON MUNROE - -

The sun shone down on the little beach side cafe and it's two occupants. One had a uncontrollable mop of dark wavy hair, loosely tied back with what appeared to be an elastic band. The other had bleached blond hair that flopped in his eyes. They were so clearly siblings, they had the same face and same mischievous smirk and the way they bantered and bickered with each other was the kind that only existed between siblings. He was slurping from a large plastic take-away cup of mango and orange smoothie while she had a pineapple, pear and cranberry concoction. The topic of conversation? The academic year ahead, both bragging and insisting that their chosen course was the better one, both gesticulating wildly as they talked. "Well obviously you're gonna smash it, you're a bloody genius at this stuff Harry... but how are you gonna explain it somebody else without my epic skills as a translator? We both know you're language skills are atrocious......."

Harry woke with her brother's voice still ringing in her ear. She gave a deep, sad sigh, this dream always saddened and depressed her in equal measure. On the first day of each academic year without fail since she'd started university she would have the same dream - her and Dan back at their favourite cafe in the whole of Australia, nursing drinks and chatting and teasing each other about the academic university year ahead of them, both insisting their course was the better one. It always saddened her, this dream. In real life such a conversation had never happened, she'd been too young to attend university when her brother died. But the teasing had been real. God she missed it, even though, at the time, it had been the most annoying thing in the world. She may have been a whole centimetre taller, but he was three and a half years older, and never, ever going to let her forget it. 'Height' as he was so fond of telling her 'can change, but age? Age is forever.'

She dressed in her usual style- plain black t-shirt, dark jeans, frayed and ripped at the ends with some suspect looking stains (motor oil most likely), her thick soled biker boots and matching, slightly battered leather biker jacket. The next order of business was coffee- black and strong enough to stun a human at twenty paces. The first day of academic term was always chaos. The freshies were oblivious and everywhere, getting in everybody's way, completely clueless to the unwritten etiquette of the college. The halls would be packed, the queues to the cafeteria stretching around the block. It was like the Hunger Games when it came to trying to gain access to anywhere with food or caffeinated beverages. definitely best to bring your own (as Harry had learned the hard way, having crashed into an unconscious slumber during a number of her classes during her first few weeks at the college). As the coffee brewed she alternated between eating cereal (cornflakes) and assembling everything she'd need for the school day ahead.

The coffee had by now finished percolating and she split it between a thermos and her mug. It had been given to Harry by the girl she'd shared uni accommodation with last year- a gag gift at Christmas, but one Harry loved as it really did describe her to a T and would act as a warning of sorts to her new roommate as to what kind of person she'd been sharing with. Her roommate had arrived, of that Harry was sure, the boxes of clothing and other items that had materialised made that quite clear, but the Australian hadn't seen hide nor hair of them. Maybe they were a ghost or something. Now wouldn't that be something?

She locked up the made her way to ground level. Her motorbike, her pride and joy was waiting there and Harry couldn't help but grin as she sat on it, running her hands over it as if she hadn't seen it months (it had only been a day but still). The ride to the university would take less than ten minutes by motorbike. This year she hadn't managed to secure on campus accommodation, she was in a shared flat just across the river. As she was crossing the bridge a smudge of black against the clear white sky caught her eye. It only took her a few seconds to realise that these were fire clouds. She'd seen plenty of bush fires while growing up on the family ranch in the outback, but this was her first city fire, an by the look of it was coming..... from campus.

"Scheiße!" she swore, and gunned the bike, shooting forwards through the traffic. Usually she was a considerate driver and not one of those bikers who played chicken with moving traffic, but today was different. Reaching the university she was faced with the building- engulfed with flickering flames, belching out black smoke, wooden timbers cracking and popping alarmingly with the heat. Sitting astride her bike she lifted up the visor of her helmet and took in the shift before her. She'd seen this kind of fire before in the outback, wooden buildings going up in seconds as they were tinder dry. All that was needed was a bit of glass debris to focus the light and poof! Fire. But this was New York, not Australia. She'd thought wooden buildings were safe from that kind of conditions here. Evidently not.

...... Unless it was arson. In which case, who the fuck would do such a thing? She didn't think anybody on campus was a pyromaniac, smokers, trouble makers, vandals yes. But arsonists? Nah. No doubt the loss of this building would affect everybody-even those like herself who didn't have classes in there. She could only hope that nobody was inside the building, she didn't fancy their chances of making it out unscarred. There was a crowd of students around the building..... filming it, of course they were. Why, oh why was a person's instinct to film things before they thought to call the relevant emergency services? Pulling out her phone she dialled and waited..... "Emergency services, how may we direct your call?

Location: University Campus
Mood: Shocked (again)
Interactions: open
Tags: none

 

[Qwertycakes]

MOOD: Pensive

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: Dorm-->Library

basics

MENTIONS:
Samantha
tamarapasek


INT:
-

tags

TL;DR: Just thinking about Sam...again

tl;dr

Scotty Ferrari

My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me
so won't you kill me so I die happy?

Scotty sat on his bed, staring at his phone with the goofiest of grins, trying to slip a sock on his foot with his free hand. It was an impossible task, forcing him to reluctantly put his phone down to properly dress his feet, still smiling to himself.

This was Scotty's morning routine as of late: wake up, think about Sam, check phone for messages from Sam, shower, get ready for the day, recheck for messages from Sam, and finding none, simply read some older messages from Sam.

As soon as he finished, Scotty grabbed his phone again to indulge in some more re-reading, giggling stupidly at all the cute and funny things Sam had to say that day. Without thinking, Scotty started tapping out a message, a simple "good morning!"...but something made him pause before hitting the send. It was that pesky self-doubt creeping in at just the right moment, making him jam down on the backspace until the friendly greeting was fully gone. He didn't want to come off that clingy, did he? Sam wasn't his girlfriend or anything like that. What would make him think she'd want to hear from him first thing in the damn morning?

And that was the problem. Sam wasn't his girlfriend, or casual datemate, or anything of the sort. It was actually quite shocking that such a beautiful, funny, amazing girl was willing to spend so much time chatting with him, even flirting with him....and flirting quite a lot too. They never spent much time together in person though, regrettably, save for the playful smiles they'd flash to each during a lecture, or the usual maladroit interactions after class. Probably because Scotty turned into a blushing, awkward mess at the very sight of the gorgeous, perfect Samantha Jones.

Still, Scotty relished any opportunity to flirt with her, of course; their DM convos were more attention from a girl than he'd ever received in his entire life. But he was trying (and failing) not to get too attached. It was only a matter of time before Sam met someone better, someone that actually knew how to talk to a real, live girl in person, not just over text. As much as he didn't want to think about how obliterated his heart was going to be when that happened, it was a sad inevitability, at least in Scotty's mind.

After he finished dressing and ran a brush through his slightly shower-damp hair, Scotty shoved the phone in his pocket so he wouldn't be tempted to stare at it some more -- or even worse, cave and bother Sam with a needy, early-morning text. His stomach was growling impatiently anyway, so Scotty figured now was a good time to swing by the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

It was early still, and the rest of the dorm was quiet. As soon as Scotty stepped outside though, it was obvious something was wrong. The atmosphere was thick and tense, the unmistakable burning smell of fire permeating the air. Scotty took a few steps, unsure of how to proceed, his ears perking at the sound of people shouting in the distance. He slowly turned around in a complete circle, with no clue where to go until he finally picked up what direction the voices were coming from. He could see smoke billowing into the sky as he continued to jog that way -- holy shit, was a building on fire?

His first thought was Sam. Where was Sam? His breath quickened as he began to panic, fumbling around trying to grab the phone out of his pocket. Scotty ran a tembling hand through his dark hair, staring at his phone screen, but his thoughts were so jumbled he couldn't make sense of what he was looking at or trying to do.

Library.

The word that finally popped into his head, library, was like a trigger that immediately kicked his legs into motion again. Didn't Sam say she often hung out and read at the library before class? Before he could even try to form a rational thought, Scotty picked up speed, running toward the nearby library as fast as his legs could take him.

code by valen t.

 

[tamarapasek]

Samantha Jones

Mood: Relieved
Outfit: Google Image Result for https://fashionjackson.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Fashion-Jackson-Wearing-Banana-Republic-Black-Button-Front-Dress-Denim-Jacket-Tan-Crossbody-Handbag-White-Sneakers-1.jpg
Location: Library
Interactions: Qwertycakes
Mentions: Wolfiee
Tl;dr:

"Is it love or entertainment?"

''As you must be aware.'' Duke Greenway whispered, leaning forward, forcing her body to lean against the bookshelf for support, ''I've become quite......taken with you. When a single day has gone by in which I have not been able to gaze upon the perfection which graces me at this moment, I experience a fate I would not wish on my worst enemy. That torture is only second to the possibility that you may be unaware of just how desired you truly are. Lady Everton, I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you'' He surged forward to envelop her lips in a most passionate kiss. ''And I will not go any longer without you''

Samantha pried her eyes away from the book. As per usual shewas at the library reading a particularly shameful novel. Ever since she was 14, she’d been an avid lover of these buildings though she
frequently lied about what exactly she read while she was there.

Though saddened that she’d have to part with dashing Lord Everton for now, she found that she didn’t mind so much since she had an even more swoonworthy guy she could actually talk to now.

Every few pages she’d shut the book and check for another message. But there was never any.

As usual there was no message awaiting her. Since she’s been the last one to say good night, she was terrified of coming off as desperate. The kind of girl who would just pounce on any guy who was sweet enough to her. Not that that was all Scotty was. He was literally the nicest , hottest, sweetest most amazing person she’d ever met in her life. She had always felt lucky that he even gave her time of day. Which was why she’d been even more on edge due to the incident.

It shouldn’t have mattered so much right? She’d never claimed him as a boyfriend, and barely spoke to him in person! Of course he was going to flirt with other girls! And of course he was going to find a girl who was prettier, friendlier, and more socially apt than her to flirt with! And of course she was expecting a decrease in DMs!

Despite her knowing she wasn’t even a serious option for Scotty, she still tried. She’d even considered asking him out the night before. But as she was about to get the courage to DM him about it, she saw him send a flirty comment to Val on Instagram. And that was the end of that little hope of romance for her.

So instead of maybe possibly being on a date with the guy of her dreams, here she was. Backsliding into her old habit of bodice rippers. There was just something about the safety of it all. The fact that the Hero would always fall in love with the Heroine. He would always make sure that she knew it with at least one grand speech. Meanwhile she’d just realized she was taking her little flirtationship much more exclusively than her partner.

No! Stop thinking about Scotty. Stop thinking about how he was the only guy to ever give a rats ass about you even if you were kind of intense about your nerdiness, and then proceeded to be the funniest most amazing person ever. How even though she knew damn it wouldn’t last, she felt nauseous thinking about the day when she could no longer flirt and pretend she was actually the first choice.

Finally her phone buzzed. She eagerly picked it up, expecting to respond in 5 seconds like a fool to a Good Morning text. Instead her eyes widened as she was flooded with tweet after tweet of an apparent fire.

Holy shit. Where the hell was Scotty? Probably his dorm right? She hadn’t known the boy to be an early riser, but she still had to see for herself if he was safe and asleep in his bed.

She clutched the book that she’d already borrowed in preparation for class, and began to work her way towards the exit. Her thoughts became all jumbled up as she tried to remember the route she’d taken hours ago. She walked and walked with a tiny voice at the back of her head screaming “If he’s alive I swear to everything that I set the record straight.”

Eventually she found the door and opened it to discover Scotty there. She had so many questions, but all she could do was sputter out “I need to tell you something.”

code by dirt​

 

[Nightmarish]

MOOD: Annoyed

OUTFIT: Here

LOCATION: Campus

two

INTERACTIONS: Open

MENTIONS: N/A

two

TAGS:

two

TL;DR: Here

two

Ronny Munson

A ringing, sharp and loud, striking through Ronny's perfectly awake ears and ringing in her perfectly awake head, bouncing off the walls of her skull like an angry bird, aiming to be freed. Today was like any day, waking up at the same time of the rising sun, no memory of falling asleep the night before, but it didn't much matter, Ronny stopped caring how much she slept the night before long, long ago. She breathed in and let out a sharp breath, stretched out her arms, which cracked and ached, pulling groans from her cracked lips, then rolling up, the cracking of her back, more cracks as her neck rolled. She stretched to her table, checked her phone, it was early, she ignored the notifications, she responded when she wanted to, not much caring for if the other was waiting. She stretched her legs and swung them over her bed with a slight groan, shaking away her clinging blankets. She peered around her room, blinking the sleep from her eyes and bringing her still cloudy mind back to the real world, calling out the things around her. Lamp, desk, dirty laundry, clean laundry, closet, phone. Her loft wasn't much, brick walls and peeling white wallpaper, a king-sized bed with black bed set, walk-in closet, yellow lampshades, worn dark wood, a rug with a fire design, posters that wrinkled and folded at the edges and framed pictured scattered across the walls. Ronny pressed her feet hard into the ground, pushed herself up with aching arms, throwing her body weight onto her feet, stretching properly once she was standing. She walked steadily towards her closet, ripping away her over-sized t-shit and slipping out of her black lace panties. She tugged on tank-top and black gym shorts and walked back out, shoving her phone into her pocket and stalking to the top of the stair-case, talking the spiral staircase down from the balcony that held her bed into the open space of the rest of the loft.

She repeated her daily routine as it always went, starting with the sound of a cup of dark roast coffee brewing and the image of smoke leaving her mouth in puffs as she breathed in and out from her cigarette, feeling her body waking and gaining energy. Once the white mug decorated with thick black letters spelling 'B-I-T-C-H' across it was drained of its bitter liquid, Ronny slipped in her sneakers and plugged in her headphones, bolting out her door for her morning work-out, 1 hour of running, push-ups, burpees, plank, basically anything and everything until her body weighed heavy when she rushed back through the door and sweat dripped from every part of her. She slipped the black Nike's off and made a bee-line for the bathroom door that stood open along the far wall. She stripped to her bare tanned skin again and connected her phone to her speakers, letting her music echo through her loft as the warm water cascaded down her body, taking her sweat with it and replacing the sickening smell and burning heat with the sweet smell of body wash and pleasant warmth. The water gauge squealed to the off position as she tugged a towel off the rack, drying herself quickly and aggressively before leaving it limp on the floor and taking her stairs again at a quick pace. Her whole life was like this, fast-paced, structured, she didn't even need alarms because her body knew what to do and when, time was merely a secondary reminder. She slipped on a cropped black top that worked fine without a bra and loose black cargo pants, pulling on a black denim jacket over it. She buzzed back down the stairs and poured herself a second cup of coffee into the same mug, black and bitter again, and popped two slices of bread into her toaster, checking the weather and the traffic while she waited, shooting the occasional text or answering important emails until the sweet metallic pop of the toaster resounded around the room. Ronny downed her coffee, two slices of buttered toast, and a newly lit joint at the safe time. Once she was finished, she returned to her bathroom, she brushed her teeth, downed her daily supplements, applied her deodorant and body spray, a combination of axe and old spice. She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and touched her face slightly with make-up, simple brow, and moisturizing routine, before looking herself in the mirror and deciding she was ready. She danced across her room to the blasting rock music until she reached the door, tugging on a pair of black leather combat boots and tugging on the black leather jacket that hung next to her door. She threw her red leather school bag over one shoulder and grabbed her orange helmet stationed next to her door before taking off out the opening.

Ronny clasped her helmet tight over her head and straddled her glowing bike with strong legs, starting and revving the machine, which growled hungrily. She smiled under her helmet and took off, rap music blasting from the metal machine as it raced along with the concrete, the building, and cars flying by. She heard sirens, of course, she did, it was a highly populated urban area, sirens were fairly common, and it wouldn't be the last time she'd hear them, but she thought only of her work as she pulled in next to another bike in the university's parking lot, clicking her breaks down and putting the roaring of the bike to an end before threw her weight to the side and off of it, removing her helmet with a heavy, freeing breath before tucking it in its compartment and locking it tight. She slipped off her leather jacket and tucked it under her seat, not appreciating the feeling of it today, before pulling her bag back over one arm and setting an easy pace towards the looming building in front of her. She knew she was early, she liked getting to the studio first for some peace and quiet to work before the noisy children flooded the building, but she barely made it far into the building before it started.

The aching sing of the fire alarms, clanging around her skull like the morning alarms, the word FIRE screamed over and over again along the old walls. Ronny's body stilled to a stop, frozen in place as she considered her options. It could be a false alarm, a kid simply bumped the alarm or someone was trying to cover up a missed homework assignment, things like that happened all the time, and a part of her considered ignoring it and continuing on her way, she would be the only one in the studio in that case, but her brain skidded to a halt as screams rang through the building, as feet pounded the floors in stomping footsteps and people rushed past her, shoving towards the exit like a prize awaited them outside the dual doors, and she knew she should join them, her instincts screamed at her to move, leave, but the screams echoed throughout her head and bounced along the walls of her skull, it was like they were holding her still, grasping her feet and pressing them tight into the spot as the horrid sound of crashing and crunching howled in the warning above her, and it wasn't until someone shoved her aside, sending her stumbling, something no one would dare do to her in any other circumstance, but it seemed to free her from her trance, and her body turned, almost robotically, and walked towards the door, no hurry in her bones, though people kept screaming run, fire, fucking hell, and go, go, go over and over again, like the more times it was said the better the chance of escape was. As she exited the building she heard the sirens, watched people running, scattering, being herded to designated "safe" zones, but then she turned, looked up at the building, and saw the large, hungry flames, erupting from the school, ready to swallow the university. Her lungs burned from the filling of smoke and her eyes teared, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene. What the fuck had happened? Why the fuck was it happening? And who was the absolute dumbass who set the school on fire and interrupted her morning?

"What the ever-loving fuck."

Time is the school
in which we learn
Time is the fire
in which we burn.

code by valen t.

 

[Qwertycakes]

MOOD: Worried

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: Library

basics

MENTIONS:



INT:
Samantha
tamarapasek

tags

TL;DR: Scotty's afraid Sam's about to dump him, even though they're not even together

tl;dr

Scotty Ferrari

My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me
so won't you kill me so I die happy?

Scotty didn't respond right away. He didn't even appear to register that she'd said something. Scotty just kept advancing with purpose, until he was mere inches away from Sam. He then reached out with a gentle but firm grasp, grabbed her by the forearm, and pulled her into a tight hug, finally breathing a sigh of relief once she was fully safe in his arms. "I was so worried about you," He murmured into her mane of bouncy, black curls. Still holding Sam protectively, Scotty glanced up when a harried older woman approached, gruffly informing the couple and those milling around them that they'd have to follow her into the library immediately.

All of a sudden, Scotty remembered himself. He quickly relinquished his grasp on Sam and took a step back from her, his face reddening. "Sorry for, uh...grabbing you like that. I was just worried." He cleared his throat, fidgeting awkwardly before motioning with a hand for Sam to proceed ahead, and he followed along after her. They trailed behind the group, through the entrance until Scotty quickly veered off course. He wordlessly took Sam by the hand with him to a small, darkened room, quiet and tucked away from all the panic outside.

Now standing face to face with Sam, Scotty's mind began to run in all different directions about where this conversation might be headed, and they all lead to a place where Sam was about to tell him he should back off with all the texts, or that he was boring, or creepy, or she she simply had no interest in speaking to him anymore.

This was it. The moment he'd been dreading, and all Scotty could do was stand there and stare with his brows furrowed, waiting for Sam to drop that atom bomb on his heart.

code by valen t.

 

[tamarapasek]

Samantha Jones

Mood: Awkward/Humiliated
Outfit: Google Image Result for https://fashionjackson.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/06/Fashion-Jackson-Wearing-Banana-Republic-Black-Button-Front-Dress-Denim-Jacket-Tan-Crossbody-Handbag-White-Sneakers-1.jpg
Location: Library
Interactions: Qwertycakes
Mentions: Wolfiee
Tl;dr:

"Is it love or entertainment?"

'
In that moment Sam was breathless. She'd expected some sort of monosyllabic response, but instead Scotty just moved closer and closer till she was in his arms. As he held her there, she nearly forgot what on earth she was going to say. It all felt so right yet so wrong. This moment was like reading a good book from the library. It was so perfect yet there was this nagging voice in the back of her head that insisted on reminding her that it wasn't going to last. No matter how much she wanted it, Scotty wasn't going to hold her forever and maybe he wouldn't even do it again.

In the blink of an eye the perfect moment was over. She looked down awkwardly, determined not to look him in the eye and lose all resolve for what she was about to do. "Don't worry about it. I was worried too." Her voice was monotone, though her most basic instinct was to jump into his arms and say that it was more than okay. Instead, all she could do was accept his hand and follow him into the dark room.

Sam leaned against the wall, clearing her throat. She felt a million frogs jumping around in her stomach, and voices arguing over each other in her brain. Her heart insisting on continuing on, but her head telling her that she had to tear away before she got even more attached. She once again faced the floor, beginning her explanation.

''We should stop. Whatever this is, we should stop.'' She began, before offering clarification. ''This isn't your fault or anything like that. It's just......'' she sighed, getting ready to completely bear her heart in that moment. ''Last night you kinda flirted with Val on Instagram. At first I was mad at you. Like really mad. Like block your account mad. But I guess that wasn't exactly fair was it? I mean we're not together, so of course I shouldn't have expected anything of you. Which is why I realised why this,'' Sam made a gesture with her hand, as if she wasn't quite sure what this was. ''Has to stop. I'm definitely way too involved in this, and I started thinking it was a relationship which was really unfair to you. The thing is I'm way more into you than you are into me. That's obvious, and it's fine. I just don't wanna trap you into settling for someone when there's a pretty big chance that you don't like them quite as much.'' Her eyes began to water, and she let out a hollow laugh, even as she looked down. ''I don't know if you can tell but I'm definitely crying right now which is kinda pathetic isn't it? Crying over a relationship that never actually happened since I wasn't even brave enough to ask you to settle for me.'' And finally there was silence for a good 30 seconds. ''I should probably go. This was really embarrassing.''

code by dirt

 

[starkravingsane]

Charlie
Dagget

MOOD

fire? what fire?

LOCATION

home to gym to home to campus to home

MENTIONS

Qwertycakes

INTERACTIONS

Gavin Lennox

TL; DR

Charlie does some things; walks to campus, sees fire, turns back around & walks home; brings coffee to Gavin, who is singing drunk in the hallway.

OUTFIT

"Fuck!"

Charlie gasped for air, rubbing her injured leg at the same time. She'd kicked the radiator in her sleep again. And that was...the nth nightmare already that night. It was definitely feeling like trying to sleep was far more exhausting than being awake would be, so she gave up. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then mashed her whole tired face. The thin girl stood up, stretched her arms out, and yawned wide.

Charlie put her machine on for one quick espresso shot and then dressed and tied her sneakers on. Her morning jog would bring her the zen that her sleep had not. As she was getting ready, she tried to think of all the spots in the park where she liked to run, trying to rationalize a way that she could jog outside at 3 am. She hated fucking treadmills and she really needed the fresh air right now. She'd been coming to New York regularly since she was a child and at this point she knew it very well...but she also wasn't stupid. So she huffed as she picked up her espresso, wandering around the loft looking for her gym fob as she sipped it.

She soon forgot what she was looking for as images from her nightmares kept popping into her head. She tried banging them back out but that was not working. She could hear Dr. Crozier's voice in her head "Use your grounding skills, Charlotte." Angry again, Charlie answered the voice, "Fine, I'll stretch!" Two birds with one stone, she thought. So she sat on the cold floor, took in a deep breath, and began to stretch as mindfully as she could.

➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳​

An hour and a half later she returned from the gym feeling energized and chipper, the nightmares nowhere in sight. She put on her "dancy morning playlist" and sang and danced her way through a shower, getting dressed, drying her hair just enough, and throwing on a little makeup. The music was really loud, but it was a loft, a foot or two of bricks between each apartment, so it didn't really matter. Plus all the other artsy-types here were prone to their own bouts of loud noises at odd hours, and Charlie knew and was friendly with all of them--except grumpy Mr. Granger on the third floor, but she was working on that.

Charlie's classes didn't start for a couple hours, but she was bright-eyed and eager to start her day. Plus she'd wanted to speak to one of her professors before classes started, so she figured she'd head to campus. She pulled on her jacket and gathered her belongings in her messenger bag: her laptop, her headphones, a sketchbook, drawing pencils, and a few other odds and ends. Then she lugged her heavy door open and closed, locked the bolt, and headed down the stairs and out into the fresh morning air.

It was only a short walk to campus, no train ride necessary, which she loved. The subway was just so gross and dirty and sweaty, so she'd felt very lucky to find such a perfect place so close to campus.

As she got closer, she realized she was hearing an abnormal amount of sirens, the piercing sound only growing louder as she continued walking. She put her hands over her ears to block out the noise, and then began to curiously sniff the sour air. What was that? Soot? A flash of buildings collapsing passed before her eyes. She shook it out.

And then she saw it. Past the gate to campus, which fire trucks and other siren-wielding vehicles were storming through with abandon. A building was on fire.

"Yeah, no," Charlie said out loud, and swiftly turned around and headed back, mindlessly shoving through the throng of onlookers holding up their phones to take videos.

​

As she walked, feeling rather anxious now and trying to push away the what-if thoughts, Charlie remembered Gavin. Did he hear about this yet? It was early, and unlikely he was awake--was he ready for classes to start today or did he fuck up again last night? She decided to grab some cappuccinos from her favorite coffee shop and go rouse him. She would need caffeine for that endeavor anyway. And possibly a bucket of ice water. Or four.

➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳➳​

Charlie carefully clenched one coffee cup with her teeth so she could open the door to the apartment building. Walking in, she started galloping up the entrance stairway and then stopped. She heard singing. Although sounds did not travel well through the apartment walls, they reverberated around the halls, and it was hard to tell exactly where the blaring, off-key crooning was coming from.

"Definitely a Scotsman," she sighed, recognizing Gavin's heavy brogue through the loud bangs and clunks that accompanied it.

She moved up the stairs first, then thought maybe it was coming from the basement and went back down again... She heard an unrecognizable slurred phrase and the undeniable clank of a glass bottle against the floor. "And off his tits at this time in the morning, what a gem," she mumbled to herself.

"Gavin? Hey Gav!" She tried to yell over his loud, slurred singing. "Shut up and tell me where you are--I have coffee!" She tentatively started toward the basement apartments. "Did you know that it's morning?"

coded by weldherwings.

 

[Qwertycakes]

Xiomara Cortez

MOOD

Sleepy

OUTFIT

Comfy sweats; the dress looks something like this

LOCATION

The dorm

MENTIONS

Lysander Wolfiee

INTERACTIONS

Luca Nightmarish

Another all-nighter. Xiomara hadn't planned for it to happen. But she was so wrapped up in her project that the night just flew by until the wee hours of the morning crept in. Mind you, this wasn't even a class assignment Xio was trading her precious sleep for. This was merely one of her myriad personal projects the maniac was so intent on finishing. It was a 50's style A-line, strapless dress, a soft powder blue and accented with dainty lace and tulle. Much of it sewed by hand, as she was so afraid of damaging the delicate lace with her sewing machine.

Xiomara didn't even know who or what occasion she was making this dress for; she used her dress form measurements, which were much smaller than her own. She figured maybe one of her many skinny friends could wear it -- or, most likely, it would simply sit around collecting dust, like so many of her other finished projects.

Xio yawned, rubbing at her eyes, bleary from the lack of sleep and trying to work under the dim light of her crappy desk lamp. She glanced out the window, the sky still dark and the city fairly quiet and peaceful. It made her feel exceedingly lonely, as if she was the only person awake in the whole world. Even her roommate Luca was dead asleep.

Xio always hated sleeping alone. As a kid, she'd often crawl into bed with her mother after having a nightmare, or would simply fall asleep there watching TV with her at night. It was embarrassing, but Xio kept this habit up well into her late teens, right up until she left for college. Though she only lived a quick ferry ride away, she couldn't always be running home to mommy, especially at 3 a.m.

Xio was lucky enough to meet and hit it off with her best friend Luca, a sweetheart who was always willing to let Xio snuggle up with him when she was feeling lonely or homesick. Though their friendship wasn't the only reason she insisted on rooming with Luca. In all honesty, she didn't like to leave him on his own all that much. With his condition, the hallucinations, the drug use, she was constantly worried about what he would do if left alone for too long.

Stranding to stretch, Xio pondered grabbing a quick nap with Luca before class, setting her alarm to be sure they didn't oversleep. Luca was notorious for sleeping until late afternoon if she didn't wake him up, so she knew the day would be a goner if she didn't. She decided on a quick shower first and threw on some sweats after, leaving her long, dark chocolate locks free-flowing and damp, her lightly freckled face bare from any makeup.

While brushing her hair, Xio swiped through her phone -- mainly her text convo from a certain handsome blonde fellow. She smiled to herself reading back their flirtatious exchange, trying to convince herself he wasn't that cute and charming. He didn't even like her in that way anyway...right? Whatever, Xio knew it was best not to get her hopes up too high about these things. It was common knowledge Lysander flirted with everyone, and there were much better girls on campus he could go for -- prettier girls, thinner girls, girls less obsessed with their work and stupid hobbies. Girls with enough sense to actually sleep at night.

Xio crawled into bed with Luca, draping an arm around him protectively, his warmth and rhythmic breathing lulling her to sleep immediately. She only got to sleep peacefully for maybe a hour or two before a nearby siren broke her slumber. The sound forced her groggy eyes open to find Luca stirring, glancing sleepily back at her. "Hey, loser," She mumbled, lovingly cuddling him closer in greeting. The annoying screech of the siren seemed to mount and grow louder, then joined by another, prompting a groan from Xio, burying her face in Luca's shoulder.

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)

 

[Qwertycakes]

MOOD: Ecstatic

OUTFIT: here

LOCATION: Library

basics

MENTIONS: Val



INT:
Samantha
tamarapasek

tags

TL;DR: Scammy sets things straight

tl;dr

Scotty Ferrari

My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me
so won't you kill me so I die happy?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...Sammy, wait. Back up for a sec..." Scotty held his palms up in surrender, trying to gather his thoughts while in complete shock at the words Sam had just uttered. Lowering his hands, all he could manage to do was stare at her, frowning at the tears streaming down her cheeks--tears that he himself had caused his precious Samantha. Now, it sounded like she said she wanted to end their relationship because...she liked him? And he didn't like her enough?

What did she just say? She said was leaving...quick, she's about to leave!

"Wait!" Sam hadn't actually moved to leave yet, but Scotty made a desperate grab for her hand anyway, tethering her in place before him. "Hey, I'm sorry...about flirting with Val. I didn't think you..." His brow furrowed, seemingly trying to make sense of what he'd just heard. "You like me?" Not only did she like him, she was crying real tears over her feelings for him. It was all such a shock to his awestruck brain that he had to pause once again to regain composure, thoughtfully running a hand through his dark hair.

"Sammy, I -- Sam, look at me." Scotty curled a finger under her chin, gently tipping her head up to meet his gaze. He wasn't quite sure exactly what had come over him in this moment. The regular, everyday Scotty would never touch a girl's face like that without permission -- even with permission. But Sam's words had shaken him to the core, so much that he simply had to be 100% sure she was present and paying attention to his response. It was too urgent not to.

Scotty gazed into Sam's deep brown doe eyes, glossy and glistening with tears. Still gently crading her chin, he shifted his hand to her cheek just in time to catch a newly fallen tear and tenderly wipe it away with his thumb. "I'm really sorry, Sam. I acted like an idiot, and...I just...I wish I did a better job of showing you that...I like you." Without thinking, he took a step forward, now towering over Sam's small frame, merely inches away. "I mean...really like you." She was close enough he could slip his arms around her and pull her close, exhaling a shuddered breath of desire at the feel of her body pressed so close to his own.

"I really, really like you a lot." The last sentiment was mumbled breathlessly against her face, barely getting the words out before he found his own lips pressed against Sam's delightfully soft ones. She seemed to stiffen in his grasp though, which made him pull back in worry he'd done something terribly wrong. The couple stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly in shock at what just took place, until they suddenly fell into a long, passionate kiss. Scotty wasn't sure if he'd initiated that one or Sam had, but it didn't much matter. He'd never felt this way before in his entire life, his heart so full of adoration that it felt like it was about to burst.

When they finally came back up for air, Scotty paused with his forehead pressed against Sam's. Still holding her tight in his arms, as if this had all been a dream and she might immediately dissappear if he ever let her go. He pulled back to fondly admire her adorably round, angelic face, even more dazzled by her beauty now that he'd finally tasted her lips. With the stupidest of grins, he simply said aloud the only coherent thought his scrambled brain had to offer. "Beautiful." Scotty leaned down to place a kiss gently on her forehead, following it up with a sprinkling of kisses down her face to her lips. "You're so beautiful."

code by valen t.

 

[tamarapasek]

Samantha Jones

mood

Library

https://fashionjackson.com/wp-conte...et-Tan-Crossbody-Handbag-White-Sneakers-1.jpg

Val

Scotty

tags

"Wait? Scotty if you're gonna reject me please do it later." Sam protested, finally finding a voice to say something. Yet despite her desire to run, her feet were frozen in place. Was she some sort of masochist? That was the only plausible reason that her feet couldn't find it in them to do it.

Why was she an idiot? Why did she have to reveal all the pathetic crappiness she felt inside?

Just as her feet found movement, she felt pressure on her hand. She just about died of shock when she realized what it was. Scotty's hand grasping hers? What sort of rejection was this? Then the last thing she expected could happen to her happened to her.He was apologizing. For what? She had to wonder since she'd made it perfectly clear there was nothing to feel bad about. Scared to ask why, she answered his question hoping to get this humiliating ordeal. "Yes I like you. Since the beginning I've liked you." She mumbled, attempting to keep her voice steady. Her gaze was firmly planted downwards, not exactly looking forward to him watching her cry.

As he ordered her to glance at him, another surprise was thrown in. He was touching her face. His finger was under her chin, and he was touching her face. The tears streamed down her cheeks as he cradled her face. She was like a really pathetic child that needed comforting. But this didn't comfort her in the slightest. It made her heart start racing as her brain tried to comprehend what on earth was going on.

As if Scotty hadn't given her enough heart attacks in one day, he'd insisted on adding another one. Did he..........did he just say that he liked her? Her body stiffened, as she attempted to process the bomb he'd just dropped on her. Unfortunately he couldn't even give her that dignity, before taking her in his arms and pressing her body against his. Her breath was unstable, having her feeling as if she was just a moment away from losing it. Still she didn't move, trying to determine if this was some form of a cruel joke.

Her body's return of it's inability to move once more happened at the worst possible time, as his lips touched hers. That most perfect moment had unfortunately been cut short by her inability to return his kiss. Her expression of shock as she glanced at Scotty, and after a moment of pure silence she pulled him back in for another kiss, to show just how much she'd enjoyed the first one. As she melted into his arms, she couldn't help but feel overjoyed at this sudden change of events. Of course she'd need to clarify a few things when this was over, but for now she just wanted to kiss him.

As they pulled away, her gaze returned to Scotty, no longer crying. She was laughing like an idiot. As he gawked at her, she felt a bit of awkwardness despite the events that had just transpired between them. As he whispered to her that she was beautiful, and then proceeded to press several kisses onto her face, she giggled like a little kid. ''No I'm no-I mean thank you.'' She whispered back, though there was some hesitance in her voice.

As his third kiss ended, she glanced up at him with a huge grin. ''This is gonna sound like such a dumb question, but I was really the one you wanted?'' she questioned, laughing awkwardly. She'd spent all night believing it was Val, or some other equally stunning girl, only to find out it was the awkward kid from some of his classes, who was weirdly intense about Jeopardy. What the fuck were the odds of that? Not waiting for an answer, she pressed another kiss to his lips, as if to thank him for actually wanting her.

song title

artist name

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Nightmarish]

L

filler! ignore

V

filler! ignore

• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  Luca Versal

  
  
  
  

  Film Major

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  mood

  
  

  fuckin tired

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  location

  
  

  The dorm

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  outfit

  
  

  Froggy Boxers

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  tags

  
  

  Xio ( Qwertycakes )

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  It was 4 pm when the brunette's head slammed against the wood floors with a loud thud that echoed through his skull, his bones aching as his body tumbled from his bed like a lifeless doll in a mess of blankets. His bare chest felt the biting cold of the floor and his body instinctively curled up and pulled the blankets tight around him as his green eyes blinked open lazily, teary and clouded by tiredness. He gazed around the room, expecting a mess of bottles, dishes, and clothes as he remembered his drunken escapades of the night before, a blur of loud music and dancing with a 'friend', but he wondered if he was dreaming as he gazed upon a cleaned room, little telltale signs that the drunkard had been there left. He blinked rapidly, as if the faster he closed and opened his lids, the more the surrounding room would change, but it didn't. "Xio cleaned it." A hollow voice echoed from the desk chair across from Luca, a blue-haired girl sat cross-legged on the cushion, stunning blue eyes focused on the small Nintendo Switch she held in her hands, some sort of blasting echoing from the pink device.
  "You shouldn't play video games so early Cali," Luca muttered, voice deep and scratchy, laced with sleep. He looked at his sister, curly blue hair cut just above her shoulders, head tilted just so to the side and long lashing blinking slowly as her eyes fixated on the screen. The small girl wore plaid loose pajama pants and a white oversized cropped t-shirt, contrast against her tanned freckled skin. She looked older than she had when she died, but still younger than she would be now, and she seemed loose almost, like a watercolor painting sitting on his desk chair, the switch in her hand clicking aggressively as she mashed the buttons.
  "It's, like, dinner-time." She muttered lazily, voice soft and slow like honey.
  "Oh." As if on queue, Luca climbed into a standing position using the support of his bed, his muscles groaning in protest and head pounding angrily, whether from his lively wake-up or a hangover would be unknown as he clamored lazily to the closet, rubbing his eyes with his fist. He tore open the closet door, then opened the fridge inside, grasping a random bottle, some Irish whiskey, and grasping the cap with his right hand, twisting it open aggressively before pouring the sour liquid directly into his mouth, gulping down three glugs of the bottle before removing it from his cracked lips and whipping the dripping remnants from his chin.
  "Ya know, some people drink water in the mornings." Caliana rasped with an exaggerated tone from next to him as he gasped a sweatshirt from the closet and tugged it over his cold skin.
  "Yeah, and some people don't wake up with a hangover every morning, guess I'm just cool like that," Luca replied in a sweet voice as his headache melted away and he felt life slowly return to his blood like his heart started beating again at first gulp of alcohol in his system. He took another swig from the bottle before setting it on the closest surface and stumbling from the room in his boxers dotted with frogs and loose black sweatshirt covered in burn marks to the bathroom. Most Luca's mornings, or what he would call morning, as his normal waking hour was around 5 pm unless he had class, where-as Xiomara would wake him out and basically drag him from his warm bed, forcing him out into the world. He would wake up with a headache, and respond with a morning drink, with which he would wash down a nice mix of pills. He would stumble to the bathroom for a shower, if he didn't shower first he woke up he wouldn't shower at all, and follow up with a strange outfit selection, some combination of a mostly-unbuttoned-patterned-button-up and paired with either some clashing patterned loose pants or jeans, all topped off with oval colored sunglasses. If Xio was around, she would normally force him to drink some water and eat something, but the idea would normally slip his mind otherwise unless the munchies drove him to the kitchen where he would scavenge for a snack.
  His next move would be to walk to class, if he had it, which today he didn't, so now he had a choice with how to fill his day. He considered having a private dance party or maybe working on the script for his latest project, but Cali argued loudly that they should go get food, that she was hungry, Luca reminded her that she couldn't eat, she reminded him that she didn't care, and eventually, he caved, Luca always caved to Cali. He gathered his things, pulling on leather heeled slip-on shoes and walking to the campus dining hall, where he would argue with Cali for about 30 minutes about what to eat, I'm the one who has to eat it, not you, he would say, and she would counter with okay, but I have better tastes then you so you should get what I want anyway. Eventually, she would win, because Luca always caved to Cali, and tonight, her choice was sushi, even though Luca didn't like sushi, but Cali loved it. He never paid attention to the judging stared of other students as he grumbled to the air about the poor food choice, he didn't care what they saw and thought, he never did. After dinner, he would either go for a walk, maybe the park, normally joined by Sandy, a tall skinny black-haired girl with blunt bangs and shaved sided, chunky leather boots and black clothes, and he would bounce project idea off of her, she always had the best ideas, until he declared he had to leave, and she would walk him home, he felt most safe with her, she was intimidating with her sharp teeth and red eyes, before she would watch him walk inside the dorms and he would watch her fade into nothingness. Xio would be home by now, and when he opened the door, his first move was always to throw his body into her in a heavy-weighted hug, as if his body had become too heavy and he needed her help to stand. He would let out an over-dramatic sigh, declaring loudly how horrid his day had been since he hadn't awoken to her gorgeous face. He enjoyed this part of the day most, enjoyed settling down with music or a movie, chugging drink after drink as he typed away on his script talking endlessly with Xio about anything and everything, until the hours crept on and he found his eyelids slipping closed around 12 am, his glass bottle slipping from his hand clanging into the others on the floor beside his bed. He would never remember falling asleep the next morning, but it was usually some combination of him dramatically slamming his laptop shut and setting it on his bedside table before ripping his clothes from his thin frame and tossing them across the room until all that was left was his black boxers covered in cartoonish green frogs. He would stretch out on his bed and doze away, normally Xio would be the one to tug his thick blanket until him, Luca would always forget how every morning he would wake up cold and shivering.
  Luca slept like the dead, body dipping heavily into the soft mattress and no memory of when Xio would press her warm body into him, lulling him into only a deeper and more peaceful sleep, his nightmares seemed to quiet just a bit when a body was next to him. When the sirens crept into his dreams and broke his sleep, Luca was tugged just a little from his deathlike slumber, body heavy and eyes slitting open, sliding to meet those of his roommates.
  "Hey, loser." Her words broke through his sleepy brain and his pale lips pulled up into a smile in response. He loves waking up to this. The sirens glared annoyingly in the background, and he groaned in annoyance at the disruption, wondering if the girl beside him could hear them too as she groaned and pressed closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head with one, and let out a tight yawn.
  "Do you hear the sirens too?" He questioned slowly, his voice hoarse with sleep, his throat dry as his green slitted eyes looked at the dark-haired girl cuddled into him, pressing himself closer, if that was possible.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

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