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

[ditto]

LINDSAY MORGAN KAY

do it, no balls

Picking up his green-and-white-striped button-up, Lin smiled to himself. His face was hot, his cheeks were red, and he legit couldn’t stop smiling— his cheeks were gonna fucking fall off, luhmao.

But if they did that, psht, shrug. Yolo, luhmao.

That wasn’t going to stop him from smiling— nothing could.

He was so fucking happy.

Wuvey-dovey Windsay, he teased himself internally, and he responded with a, Hell yeah, I am, which kinda took him aback.

Bruuuuuuuh.

He was lovey-dovey.

Him— ya know, the guy who little over a month ago was like “I don’t want love ‘cuz it seems like a lot of effort”.

Pffft.

How lame of him, ess-em-aych— but he was above that now.

(Don’t mention it, luhmao.)

Lin reached the top button only to realize that, shittytitties, he had one too many buttons.

But then he shrugged, ‘cuz new style, luhmao.

Yeah, he’d totally fucking rock it.

Duh. He was Lin Kay, after all.

He looked over at Charlie while he shoved the tail of his shirt into the waistband of his skinny jeans, beaming as he watched her finish shrugging on her dress. She smudged at her makeup, and he laughed. “Howellin: trendsetting icons, luhmao,” he said, grabbing his paint-splotched jacket from the ground and coming over to stand near Charlie.

She turned to him with a dramatic scowl, and he laughed. “You stub your toe or som’n’?” he asked, to which she gave an overly-dramatic grunt, crossing her arms and pouting.

“We’re breaking up,” she said.

Lin’s jaw dropped, and his brows raised. “Huh?” he asked, cocking his head.

“I told you if you made one singular comment about me giving in that we were done. So we’re—“ She gasped dramatically, pressing her hand to the back of her head. “— done.”

“Heyheyhey!” Lin started defensively. He huffed. “Ess-em-aych, no!”

She grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulders, and then—

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his side.

Thud.

There went his heart, and there warmed his cheeks again.

“But I think I can be persuaded to forgive you,” she giggled, and she kissed the tip of his nose. “I mean we are pretty cool as a collective and at this point, it’s kind of inconvenient to go on and pretend like I hate you or somethin’ because I really do lllll—”

He stared down at her, his eyes widening slightly.

Llllllllllllll as in—

As in lov—

As in that word?

As in the word that he almost said?

Nononono, totally not. Nonono.

“Like you a whole lot,” she finished, and she peck his lips.

His surprised expression spread into a smile, and she moved to his side. He offered his hand, and she took it.

This. Felt. Uh.

Very, very, very, very, very, very, very right.

He didn’t know, uh, how to put it.

Saying feelies was hard.

So he’d just leave the thinking at that and just feel, luhmao.

“We should probably head back to the school before we actually get locked out,” Charlie said. “I really don’t want to have to spend the night outside.”

“Yeah, luhmao,” Lin agreed, picking up the flashlight and walking down the clear path. “Hey, but, like…lowkey? Staying outside all night sounds fucking sick. Actually, highkey— just straight up vibing, laying in the grass, might fuck around and get eaten by a raccoon but yolo, huh?” he laughed.

Plus, as long as it’s with you, anything sounds fucking sick.

They made their way out of the building and into the crisp night air, and Lin watched Charlie as she took a deep breath and looked to the sky. She smiled. “On second thought, the stars are really nice and now I kinda want to take a walk. You can go inside if you want.”

“I don’t wanna go inside,” Lin said quickly, and then he laughed. “People? Yaaaawn. All they’re gonna be doing is, like, booooring stuff. Like, uh…crying, probably. Yelling, probably, luhmao. Shrug. Boooore-eye-enn-gee.” He heaved a shrug, and then grinned down at her. “Plus, you’ll be out here, so why’d I wanna go inside, ess-em-aych? A walk sounds tight.” He held up a shaka brah hand, giving it a little shake to show his enthusiasm.

He gave her hand a squeeze, and he started walking in a random direction. He looked up at the stars and sighed contentedly. “Everything moves kinda fast, doesn’t it?” Lin asked pensively, and then he laughed. “Like…uh.” He wasn’t very good at poetic things, despite his songwriting abilities. “Ya know, like it was raining out here not even that long ago, and now you can’t see even, like, one cloud.” He smiled broadly. “Uh…metaphors and shit,” he laughed, putting his free hand to a blushing cheek. “Not good, not good. But…”

He sighed softly. “You remember, uh…the night that—“ You beat Cheese Marinade’s ass? “Homecoming? I remember more of it now than I did. I remember looking at the moths on the way home. I remember counting the, uhhh, cracks in the sidewalk…and I remember sitting on the balcony with you.” He cracked a smile at her. “And I don’t know anything that happened on the balcony, but…I kinda remember how it felt. I felt, like…uh. I felt like we were just, like…meant for ea…”

He trailed off, stopping his walking, and he looked at the stars again.

“I felt like I…” His brows knit as he struggled with his words. “Like you and me…like I…like…I was in lo—“

Some movement in a window caught his attention, and he cut himself off, looking curiously to the window.

“Hooooooly fucking balls, Terminator,” he said, covering his mouth with his hand before pointing at the window with a cackle. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” He looked down at her. “C’mon!” he said in a quick whisper, pulling her towards the window.

His steps slowed as they got closer, and he came to a stop just a few feet away from the window. “Woooooah.” Lin stood on his tiptoes to peek in.

Inside were several familiar, distressed faces, which Lin began to list. “Peepee Boy, Callunemia, Clairey’s lil’ bitch bro, Genny, and Asshole Overload,” he breathed, and then he stifled a laugh. He watched the ruckus inside: the two boys fighting, then Gen doing something or other with her foot or something, and then something something something, and then they were trying the doors.

“Bro, I think they’re locked in,” he whispered, looking at Charlie with wide eyes. His amazed expression broke into a wide grin. “Luhmao! Fucking laaame!” He looked back at them, and then—

Ding, ding, ding!

His face lit up with an idea.

“Hey,” he whispered to Charlie, “you think we could get them to pay us to break them out, luhmao?”

He reached up and banged a fist on the window, suddenly breaking his whispering to yell: “Ayo!” He cupped his hands to his lips, and then pressed his hands to the window. “Give us both a hundred and we’ll break you fuckers out, luhmao! That's fifty percent off if you take the offer right now!”

mood
👁 👁

location
outside a window

outfit
lookin fly as always

playing...
all i do is win

by dj khaled​

mentions
n/a

interactions
charlie, gen, callum, jace, & landon

tags
geminiy hery Winona gh0stwriter

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

trevor callaghan

feckin' fuck off

“Yeah,” came Ash’s answer, and then she nodded and repeated it: “yeah.”

With that confirmation, Trevor shifted his vehicle into reverse, slowly tugged out of the parking spot, and then set his course for the apartment.

He sat his elbow against the panel with the window switches, driving with one hand. The radio played and switched between a few stations for a moment, and he caught bits of songs and conversations: someone random arguing about some celebrity-whose-name-didn’t-ring-a-bell’s pregnancy or lack thereof; someone crooning “ooooooh” over heavy drums; a rap song that mentioned a dead mother in the few short words that he could understand. The constant flipping was wearing on his nerves, and he worked his jaw, trying to force his eyes to stay on the road instead of looking at Ash’s fingers on the radio dial.

In the nose, out through the mouth, Trevor; in the nose, out through the mouth.

It was easier said than done.

He could feel his nostrils twitching in irritation, and his breathing was shallow and uncontrolled.

Throbthrobthrob went his brain.

Feckfuckfuck went his thoughts.

Finally, she settled on a radio station and turned down the noise, and he released a breath of relief.

She leaned the seat back, and he glanced over at her.

After a night of turmoil, Ash finally looked…relaxed.

Job well done, he told himself as he set his eyes forward on the road. Good job not fucking it up, for once.

As he drove towards his place, he could feel his headache letting up and his eyes growing heavier. It’d been a damn long night full of constant stress. What Trevor considered a year’s worth of goings-on had been crammed into a single night. Between Charlie, Ash, and Hunter, Trevor was thoroughly exhausted, and his memory was a bit fragmented. Certain things seemed rushed— like going to Ash, because he couldn’t remember the first…bit of that interaction— and others seemed like they’d dragged on for years— like him confessing all of his sins to Charlie.

He thought he’d cried once, too, but that felt like days ago, so it was better to just put that behind him.

With a sigh, he ran his non-wheel-holding hand through his unkempt, coarse hair.

He’d tried to be…different tonight.

He’d apologized for one— which really fecking stung to do. Facing the music was a damn hard thing, especially with his best friend, but…well, he’d done it. He didn’t really expect props for that— he realized it was the bare fecking minimum, but…he’d tried, ya know?

Not only that, but he’d actually shut up sometimes and held his tongue and thought through his words probably more than he had in…what, forever— and he’d said…not his first thought, and he’d done not his first instinct (except for when he’d rushed to Ash, but he considered that a positive thing). Again, he didn’t…

Well damn, was all he’d done tonight the bare minimum?

He let out a long sigh.

Well, he’d had the courage to spit in a dude’s face— though that was mostly the alcohol, probably.

Good job, he complimented himself again, though this time more sarcastically. Ya did the bare fecking minimum.

The bare fecking minimum was hard, though, and it gave him a headache…but it felt…nice.

After doing it, it just…felt…nice.

It was better than he’d ever done in his whole damn life— and it really fecking tired him out.

Finally, he pulled into the parking lot, and he drove his van into the spot that he always parked it.

Of course, he wasn’t paying as much attention as he usually did, and he hit the cement block in front of the spot, causing the van to lurch.

He winced, and he looked over to Ash, one eye closed.

Shite, he’d jarred her awake.

Whoops.

“We’ve arrived,” he said, pulling his key from the ignition and unlatching his seatbelt.

She sat up, grabbing her backpack and opening the door, and he followed suit, stepping out of Rachel and slamming the door. He walked around to the front, and Ash met him there.

And she reached out and took his hand.

He cracked a smile, locking Rachel with a couple clicks of his keys as he looked down at Ash, his girlfriend.

This…

This felt nice.

“We should’ve just, like, done this from the start,” Ash huffed as they made their way towards the apartment. “Like, you know…just skipped the lock-in altogether and hung out here…actually, no, that would’ve made people, like, even more suspicious, you know? ‘Oh Trevor and Ash both skipped? Definitely banging.’”

He laughed, smiling. “We really should’ve,” he agreed. “I don’t understand tha whole appeal of lockin’ yerself in the abandoned school with all of the school’s population. So what if it’s tradition? I’d rather not get a dick drawn on my face if I just so happen to actually want to sleep, no matter how artistically it’s drawn. Trust me— I have experience with that. Tragically. It’s always pick on tha poor stoner Lit kid. I’m not a killjoy just because I want to actually get some rest, an’ I should not be a target fer that reason, either.” His voice rose with indignation, and then he sighed. “The Great Sharpie dick incident of 2019 lives on in my painful, tear-filled nightmares— an’ probably in Charlie’s phone.” He rolled his eyes, smiling, and then added, “An’ politely: fuck the rumors; they’ve thought we were bangin’ ever since we said more than three words ta one another. They didn’t stop when we started datin’, but they were there before, an’ I don’t give a damn at this point.”

It was true that they’d had rumors, but also—

Hypocrite.

And liar.

One, he was telling her not to worry about rumors when that was all he had done, but two, he did give a damn.

He gave far too many damns.

He shoved the thought from his mind before it could give him another headache.

He came to a stop at the apartment door, and he pulled his hand from Ash’s to unlock the door. He struggled with the keys, his face pulling into a scowl as he picked wrong key after wrong key after wrong key.

Why did he have so fecking many keys?

Finally, he picked the right one, and after a solid twenty seconds of twisting and turning it, he managed to push the door open.

Unclenching his jaw and relaxing his face, he dropped his keys in his pocket, and he looked down at Ash with a gentle smile, casually taking her hand again as if the door thing was a common occurrence.

(Spoiler alert: it was.)

He pulled her inside gently, and he shut the door, clicking on the light.

When the apartment was devoid of his roommates, it always so still, and he breathed out a sigh into the undisturbed air.

“Well…,” he started, and he looked down at Ash, “welcome once again to my humble abode, darlin’.”

mood
nice

location
the apartment

outfit
something casual

playing...
the funeral

by band of horses​

mentions
charlie

interactions
ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Charlie Howell

@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
yeah, we saved you. howellin to the rescue, bitches

@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
sunflowers & denim

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
breaking out, er, breaking in?

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
n/a

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
Lin, Gen, Mike, Landon, Callum, Jace

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
ditto gh0stwriter hery Winona

There it was again, the near mention of some word that started with an L that Charlie really didn’t want to infer. Inferring what word Lin was trying to say would come with a big long list of complicated implications that, if Charlie was wrong, would just make everything messy. What Lin said wasn’t a lie though, they really did just feel right, and that was simply going to have to be enough. However, Charlie made a quick mental note that she would, at some point, muster up the courage to ask him about it. Just not right at that moment.

Besides, clearly they had more pressing matters to attend to because there on the other side of a tall window was an unlikely and clearly very emotionally tense group.

“Dude, gimme a boost, I can’t see.” Charlie grumbled as she strained to see into the window, eventually using Lin as a sort of ladder to boost herself up on.

Sure enough, there was Jace and Callum and Gen and Mike and Landon all locked in the classroom. How they had gotten stuck in there or why they were still in there without killing each other (though it certainly looked like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb had tried) was a pure mystery to Charlie. Nonetheless, once Lin had made his announcement (more like a bribe, if we are being super technical here), Charlie began looking at the screen.

There were several clips on the screen that were only accessible from the outside, a rather poor choice in fire safety in Charlie’s opinion. Inside, the glass pane was latched down with two gleaming metal locks. Why they hadn’t just unlocked the window and cut the screen, Charlie wasn’t entirely sure, but she supposed that there weren’t many brain cells in the room to come up with a logical escape plan.

“Here, lemme just...” Charlie instructed, using Lin’s leg to climb up to his shoulders. “Please don’t drop me.” Readjusting her position, she reached forward to undo the top locks that would have otherwise been out of reach. “Ow, fuck.” She hissed as one of the locks cut into the soft flesh of her thumb. One more careful wiggle and the screen popped out into Charlie’s hands.

Knocking on the window, Charlie waved enthusiastically with one hand while the other kept her steady on Lin’s shoulders. Once the window popped open, Charlie hopped down and placed the screen down on the ground against the wall.

“Never fear, your knights in shiny as fuck armour are here.” Charlie spoke with pride, nudging Lin in the side with a silly, lopsided grin. “Should I ask why you were all stuck in a classroom together or is that going to get me punched? I mean, if you guys wanted to be alone you coulda just found yourself an empty classroom instead of locking yourself in. Kinda dramatic if you ask me.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Damien Slater

When Dalton tossed him aside like a toy he'd grown tired of playing with, Damien had thought that was the end. He'd pushed himself up with shaky arms and leaned against the door as his body throb from the various injuries incurred by one Dalton fucking Kirby. He'd expected a couple more insults tossed his way, maybe a kick sent into his ribs, and he'd braced himself for that kind of impact, except it didn't come.

At least not right away.

Instead of fucking off, Dalton approached him again and instinctively, Damien flinched away. He waited for another fist to be tossed into his face, a kick while he was literally done, but instead, Dalton dragged him up from the ground and Slater stood on shaky legs. Still, despite the battering, he kept his eyebrows drawn together in some kind of defiance. He'd kind of gotten good at the whole... keeping a face about him, even when he was beaten, bruised, and had given up.

“You want me to let you go? I’ll do you one better.”

What?

And then the janitor's closet door opened and--

"Nonononono."

“Go to hell.”

In one swift motion, Damien was yanked in front of the now open doorway, and then Dalton's foot was slammed into his chest and he went stumbling backwards into the closet as the door was slammed shut. He stumbled backwards, until his feet got tangled up and he went crashing down, but instead of landing on the hard floor of the closet, he landed on something squishy--

And warm--

"What the fuck?!" He yelled and he was back on his feet in seconds and was approaching the door, except he couldn't see in the pitch black darkness, so Slater ended up walking straight into the door. He let out a quiet "fuck" as he stumbled back, his hand coming up to rub at his sore nose, while he reached out with his other hand until he found the doorknob.

He twisted it.

He turned it.

He pushed.

But the door wouldn't fucking budge.

"Dude! Dude let me out!" He screamed, his fist banging against the door as he did. "Dalton, this isn't fucking funny. Let me out. Dalton! Dalton fucking let me out!" His voice was starting to crack near the end of his words and finally, as his fists started to grow sore, he gave up.

His hands dropped to his sides and he leaned forward, his forehead falling against the door with a heavy thud. He closed his eyes, although it didn't do much to help seeing as how... well... it was dark as fuck in the closet, so it wasn't like closing his eyes was helping a whole fucking lot.

After a moment, he pulled away. His hand fumbled with the sides of the door until he found a light switch and flicked it on. The light flickered on with some struggle, and Damien turned around to lean his back against the door.

And that's when he saw the blonde boy tied up and gagged on the floor of the closet.

He blinked.

So that's what he'd fallen on when he was first kicked into the closet...

"What the fuck?" Damien said.

He waited for some kind of answer, before remembering the dude was gagged and couldn't talk. Oh yeah.

So he approached, dropping to the ground beside the weird dude, and untied his hands before he fell backwards, landing on his ass. He brought one knee up, laying his other leg on the ground, and rested an arm on his knee as he looked at the other dude.

"Dalton was a fucking prick to you, too?" He asked.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
DONTTRUSTME

by 3OH!3​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Kirby

tags
Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Elizabeth Sterling

Part of Beth had been a little worried that perhaps her assumption of Spencer's brother, and her choice of words, might just serve to hurt his little feelings and he might snap or whatever. Like, not everyone could take what she considered to be "constructive criticism" of one's family members.

(This was ignoring the fact that this very thought made Beth a hypocrite, of course, seeing as how the young girl couldn't take any kind of criticism without throwing a bit of a tantrum.)

“Catching moments where he says something that doesn’t sound dirty is about as easy as finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Rarely happens.”

She looked towards Spencer, her lips relaxing into a carefree smile. See, now that was the kind of thing that she wanted to hear, and a small laugh accompanied her expression.

"Rarely happens," she echoed. "Which means it does happen. So, what, you've found gold at the end of a rainbow?" It was a joke, and when she spoke it, Beth became painfully aware of just how dumb and cheesy it sounded. Yikes. If only she could go back and edit her dialogue like this was one of her manuscripts.

“Anyway, my big flirting oaf of a brother and his inability to say clean lines aside, mind if I ask where’s the first stop on our tour or is that something of a secret?” Spencer continued. “I’ve never seen the school at night before and things always look different when you see them from a different perspective. Would it be too far fetched of a guess to assume there’s some things you can only see and enjoy at the school at night?”

God, was it just her imagination, or did that sound ever so mildly flirtatious? She studied him from the corner of her eye, but between his body language and his tone of voice not having a single hint of anything, like, sultry or hot or whatever, she decided that he simply hadn't meant to. Hmpf. She couldn't decide if Beth or Tori hadn't gotten the short end of the deal in this situation -- Tori had gotten the flirtatious one, and Beth had gotten the non-flirtatious one, but at least Beth's was way hotter. Sorry not sorry, not that Ezra wasn't not hot.

He just wasn't as hot as Spencer.

As they approached the front doors, Beth pulled it open and stepped inside, holding the door until Spencer took it before she let go and stepped the rest of the way in. She turned as she did so, a smirk on her face before speaking. "Let's keep it a secret," she replied with a small laugh, "those are always way more fun." And with that, she turned around and continued walking, slowing her steps enough for Spencer to catch up.

“Look at me nearly forgetting to acquaint myself with my tour guide. Got to make sure I get in your good graces if I want to get the best tour of the place, right?” Spencer said. “I suppose departments are as good a place as any to start. I’m a dancer. What about you Beth?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Please, Spencer," she started. "You're already in my good graces, but it's like, so hard to stay there."

"Anyway, I'm in the literature department," Beth explained. "It's not the most, like, glamorous of the departments. I swear to god everyone in that department has a stick up their ass. Like, it's so stuffy and boring. I'm pretty sure an old folk's home would know how to party better than them."

Beth rolled her eyes again as they continued to walk. "I don't really know anything about the dance department," she admitted, "I don't even think I've talked to anyone in the dance department. But I can show you the other cool places around the school. Like, the places you won't get on your actual tour."

With a tilt of her head, Beth beckoned Spencer to follow after her. As she continued to weave her way through the labyrinthine hallways, she started to speak once again.

"Well, the dancers are nice, though. Like they're kind of just those like really, really nice kids that don't get into a lot of trouble or anything. Kind of boring like the lit kids, but in a different way. Except a few of them are really big dicks, so like... you probably want to watch out for them.

As they approached another doorway, she opened it up, this time politely holding it for Spencer and waiting for him to step through before she followed after him and then started up a flight of stairs.

"But you're, like, hot and nice, so I don't think anyone will really give you a lot of trouble."

Once they reached the top of the stairs, she cracked open the doorway and peeked in, before she pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped out onto the roof of the school building. She walked forward and then turned around to face Spencer, a relaxed smile on her face.

"Tada," she said and gestured around. "Great view of, like, the sky and part of the city from here. Kind of. Anyway, you gotta be careful coming out here, though, because sometimes you'll catch people fucking and like... eww, no one wants to see that, you know?"

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
Good Girl

by Julian Moon​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Spencer

tags
Xed

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Jace West

cAll of his bones were still intact.

She hadn't snapped any of his fingers and quite honestly, Jace didn't know how to react. He was still shaking as Gen brought over a chair, a bottle of water, tissues, and told him to sit. Although he half expected her to then start laying into him, Jace was too weak at the moment to not do as she instructed. He fell into the chair, taking the water and the tissues, and relaxed in the seat-- or, well, didn't relax relax.

But he relaxed.

Kind of.

He felt more guilty than anything for selling out one of his only friends.

His fingers shook and trembled as he struggled to unscrew the top of the water bottle and-- and-- and-- and when the heck did they make these so gosh dang hard to open?! Finally, with way too much struggle, he managed to take off the top and he dropped the cap to the ground, totally intentionally, and totally not by total accident. He brought the bottle up to his lips and took a sip, but he was still shaking, and water ended up pouring down his shirt and he let out a little gasp as the now cold, wet shirt clung to his chest. He winced and grabbed hold of t-shirt fabric, pulling it away from his skin.

He wasn't really focusing on or hearing anything around the rest of him. He knew that Mike and Landon were fighting, and he knew that Gen had stopped it, but Jace wasn't really registering anything beyond his little bubble -- especially not Callum, because attempting to acknowledge his friend just filled him with guilt.

In fact, Jace stayed in this tensed up state of mind right up until Mike's steps brought him closer to the frail blonde boy. As Mike started to move, Jace's muscles tightened and he started quietly praying to whatever gods might be overhead that Mike wasn't going to punch him, and Mike wasn't going to say anything, and perhaps Mike would just move right on past him, and then Jace could be fine.

“Our fucking resources are a fucking toy chihuahua, complete with the same incontinence—“ He shoved Jace's shoulder, and the blonde boy winced. “—a walking corpse—“ Callum a shove. “— a fucking muscled midget—“ He gestured to himself. “— a bitch who betrayed her best friend—“ He gestured to her. “— and a fuck with a few too few chromosomes.” He turned to glare at Landon for a second before looking at Gen. “And you really expect us to be able to break out of here? We might have the sex drive of a small country as a collective, but our mental capacity is about as big as West’s microdick.”

"Hey," Jace whined, although his voice cracked at the hey.

Apparently, the universe had been listening to his quiet pleas for help, though, because then he heard something at the window, and he turned to look and--

Oh why? Why why why why WHY?

Because there at the window was none other than Lin and Charlie, both of whom Jace wasn't the biggest fan of -- especially Lin because the guy really scared the hell out of him.

“Ayo!” Lin was yelling. “Give us both a hundred and we’ll break you fuckers out, luhmao! That's fifty percent off if you take the offer right now!”

“Never fear, your knights in shiny as fuck armour are here.” Charlie added. “Should I ask why you were all stuck in a classroom together or is that going to get me punched? I mean, if you guys wanted to be alone you coulda just found yourself an empty classroom instead of locking yourself in. Kinda dramatic if you ask me.”

Jace wasted no time. He was standing up from his seat in the chair, the water that he'd forgotten was in his lap falling to the ground and spilling across the floor along with the tissues, although again, he didn't seem to notice as he stepped over them and marched his way towards the window.

"D-d-d-done," he stuttered, his hand fumbling to pull his wallet from his back pocket as he came to a stop at the window. His fingers felt fat and useless as he struggled to flip open his wallet, and finally, managed to pull out a wad of cash. The wallet was flipped shut and slipped back into his pocket with a little less struggle as he waved the cash at the window, enticing Lin to open the goddamn fucking thing and let him the hell out of here.

As for Charlie? He just ignored her questions.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
insecure

by Jace West, duh​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Landon, Gen, Mike, Callum, Charlie, Lin

tags
gh0stwriter geminiy ditto hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Winona]

Ashton West

Perhaps one of the most jolting facts about dating Trevor was simply the fact that most of his stories, she'd heard before -- well not, like, usually the actual story, but similar ones about like... different people. Getting a dick drawn on your face? Something she'd heard done before, but like... from other people, right? Right.

Except that she'd also always heard the other side of the story.

The "this guy passed out so we drew a dick on his face" side of the story.

Or, like, the "this stupid lit kid wouldn't shut the fuck up so I broke his arm and sent him to the hospital and got in trouble with the school" side of the story.

It was kind of eerie to be on the other end.

"You get bullied a lot," she commented absently, not even fully registering the words as they left her mouth, but it was true. And for Ash, who had been exposed to like... well, no one had ever bullied her, and no one really treated her friends poorly (mostly because, well, have you met Gen?), so it was kind of like... trippy, almost, to be reminded that there were people like Trevor who apparently received all manner of bullying.

(It shouldn't have been quite as much of a surprise seeing as how her brother was Jace, but most of his bullying was based around him whining and her friends threatening him followed by insisting that he'd deserved everything and he'd had it coming, so she'd written most of it off.)

“An’ politely: fuck the rumors; they’ve thought we were bangin’ ever since we said more than three words ta one another. They didn’t stop when we started datin’, but they were there before, an’ I don’t give a damn at this point.”

Yeah... he wasn't wrong about that, but like... well, it wasn't as if Ash could just say "fuck the rumors." She hated them, even if the rumors now held a ton of truth, just she couldn't admit that they held any truth. But hey, it was kind of working out, because the rumors had started to die down. There had been less teasing following their "totally failed and horrible" Fall Festival date, so like... maybe she could.

Just keep ignoring them, and they'd fade completely.

She bit into her bottom lip as Trevor let go of her hand to start fumbling with her keys, and she leaned against the door next to the door, resting her head against it as she waited for him to unlock it. It took him like, way too freaking long to get it figured out, but she summed that up to the alcohol. Eventually, eventually, the door was opened and they were able to step inside.

Ash didn't waste much time shrugging her backpack from her shoulders and dropping it onto the couch.

“Well…,” he started, and he looked down at Ash, “welcome once again to my humble abode, darlin’.”

She turned around, looking up to meet his gaze, her lips pulling back into a faint smile. For what felt like a long moment, but couldn't have been longer than a few seconds, she stood there. Her fingers twisted together, and then she stepped forward and and wrapped her arms around Trevor. She laid her head against his chest and for a while, she just stood there.

After a bit, she lifted her head so that she could look up at him, and her eyes studied his face before meeting his eyes. Her lips twitched into a soft smile.

"Thanks," she said again, "I... I know that like, like I already said that, like... like a lot but ummm... thanks -- really. You didn't have to do any of that, like, you could've just called Eli and been done, and you didn't have to do any of that to Hunter, and I just... thanks, for being there. I... really like you, and it just, meant... a lot."

God her words were barely making any sense to her, let alone probably him.

mood
.......

location
the classroom

outfit
idk a hoodie and jeans

playing...
Gasoline

by Alice Lee​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Trevor

tags
ditto

º º code by ditto º º

 

[natsukashii]

Tilly Phoenix

Tilly had never liked to block out anything her friends were saying nor did she ever want to do it in any situation. Not only was it rude, but if someone was talking to her, how would she know if she pretended she wasn’t there? That didn’t make any sense and it was rude. Did she mention it was rude?

But she has a confession to make.

As much as she didn’t want to, while Saint and Josie were talking, while she heard bits and pieces, like something about a cow and of course Josie mentioning skinny dipping a few times, she had to black them out for her own comfort. But it wasn’t like she didn’t want to spend time with Josie or even Saint, who had been nothing but pleasant to her. Honestly, he was a lot kinder than he thought he would, but that didn’t matter because as much as Tilly wanted to hear what they had said, the part of her that was petrified at the bare notion of potentially skinny dipping scared the Boston girl into a frozen paralysis.

So she thought about something else entirely. Like if she might see Jamie around. It kinda made her sour thinking that he hadn’t texted or even tried to call her. Not that she wanted to be the clingy girlfriend or whatever. It’s not like Tilly was that kind of girl in the least bit. He had his life and she had hers. Of course, she was here with her friends and was supposed to be meeting another friend later on. So it wasn’t like she had to continuously think about her boyfriend, but at the same time…

He hasn’t even bothered me in the slightest. I just..

Relax, Tilly. It’s okay. He probably just lost track of time, right?

Right!

Right..

But then again…

No!

She really had to stop doing that. Whatever was going on with him shouldn’t always be her concern, but she couldn’t help it. She loved him intensely and, maybe it was her desire to somehow be pulled away from whatever was happening with Saint and Josie.

Oh crap!

Tilly was totally ignoring them. So she tuned in and at the perfect time too. Before she heard him speak, though she could have sworn when she saw Eli she heard him say her name, Josie cut him off and asked if he wanted to join them for skinny dipping.

And that’s when Tilly’s mind panicked in the same way that Eli seemed to tense up. The thought that she might have to participate was frightening enough, but she couldn’t bear to have Eli go through that. Not only because she thought of him, as well as Gen, as close as she would be to her brother and sister, she also didn’t think Eli wanted to. Just the way he was hesitating to give a straight answer hinted at that.

Or maybe she was looking for something that wasn’t there.

But sure enough, when he confirmed it and politely took his departure, part of Tilly wanted to tell him not to leave her alone. She didn’t have the heart to decline because she’d feel like she was disappointing Josie.

“I-” Her voice cracked with an inaudible disappointment. “Bye..”

She forced herself to smile. While she didn’t want to go through with this, alerting anyone that she might be anything but happy was the worst possible thing she could imagine. She absolutely hated the thought of Josie thinking she didn’t want to be around her, because it absolutely wasn’t true. And Saint was lovely despite what Josie has told her about him. And seeing Eli for a brief time was also amazing, so she just didn’t want to seem ungrateful or anything.

In the midst of her semi-mental breakdown, the sound of Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe” sounded off, which was her main ringtone. She didn’t even look at the caller ID. Tilly was the kind of girl who just answered her phone regardless who it was.

“Tilly, dearest, it’s your mummy!”

For a solid three seconds, Tilly was quiet, and then she giggled, looking to Saint and Josie. “Sorry, I have a call. I’ll, uh, just be a sec…”

Tilly walked about a yard and a half away from Josie and Saint. She was still giggling, but she controlled it.

“You forgot your toothbrush at home so I brought it for you. I’m in the back parking lot, dear, come meet me!”

And Tilly was incapable of keeping a straight face. It didn’t take her long to recognize the voice. As bad as his British accent was, she was confused why Eli had decided to go with that since she wasn’t even from England.

No, that was beside the point. Why was he calling and pretending to be her mother?

Tilly thought about it. And then she spent a few long moments not only thinking about the why, but she looked back at Josie and Saint. She didn’t know if they were still dead set on the skinny dipping. And then she started to get nervous again--

Wait.. He’s not trying to…

Of course!

When she finally caught onto what he was doing, even if it took her a few moments longer than it might’ve someone else entirely, she laughed a few times as she smiled.

“Back parking lot you said, mom?” Tilly laughed as she went back over to Saint and Josie. She still had ‘mom’ on the call and approached them. “Sorry, I have to leave for a short bit. My mom just called and I forgot my toothbrush.” Tilly wasn’t a trained actress, but even she could fake a nervous laugh. “But, uhm, have fun skinny dipping!”

Tilly waved bye to Saint and Josie as she took off to a run towards the back parking lot.

.......​

Sometimes Tilly Phoenix hated how physically inept she was, so making the long trek around the school building so she could get to the back parking lot took her a bit longer than she would’ve preferred.

Maybe five minutes after hanging up with her “mother”, she found herself wandering around the parking lot. It wasn’t so bad being off on her lonesome like this. Honestly, with the breeze and the beautiful glow of the various lights set around the school, it was peaceful. If she had her painting kit and a blank canvas, she might have even painted what she saw in front of her.

Alas, she didn’t, so she just narrowed her vision, using her free hand (the other was holding onto her bag) as a visor to find his car. She hasn’t actually been inside it, or well not in a while, but she knew what kind of car he drove. Tilly wasn’t a car person, but she knew it was nice and blue. So that’s what she was looking for.

And she searched for it, starting on the left, in the front.

And she searched some more, going to the center.

Then to the right. Middle row.

It had to be at least a few minutes of her aimlessly looking and then she heard something of a honk. Was that him? Did he honk at her? Of course, he had to. Maybe because she wasn’t really getting anywhere in her search on her own, Eli must’ve felt bad for her and wanted to help her out.

And the honks until Tilly finally found it. And she couldn’t say if it was because of the limited light that she was given or just her own...whatever exhaustion/scatterbrain-like personality she had, but he was parked literally twenty feet in front of where she stood.

Tilly was mentally kicking herself over this. She looked over the car without realizing it was the one he typically drove. Maybe it was due to how dark blue his sports car was and how it sort of blended in with the late evening light that was slowly disappearing into the dark of night. Maybe it was just how caught off guard she has been for the entire night, but whatever the reason, Tilly was grateful for one thing.

Well, two things if she included him honking at her.

Eli was the reason she didn’t have to bear it all in front of Josie and Saint.

And as she practically sprinted towards him, albeit a lot slower than one normally would. That was due to Tilly never really being the type to be athletically gifted. One of the many things she suffered from, but eventually she made it there.

And she leaned over the passenger side window that was rolled down and smiled at him. “Hey…mom!” She laughed and laughed some more, widely grinning at one of her closest friends.

mood
Free at last!

location
Various areas of the Hollywood Arts Parking Lot

outfit
Am I cute?

playing...
Airplane Mode

by Dounia​

mentions
Her crappy boyfriend, Josie, Saint, Gen (briefly), Eli

interactions
Josie, Saint, Eli

tags
jasmyn ditto geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

trevor callaghan

feckin' fuck off

Ash turned around, looking up at him as her lips played into a smile, and a curious expression came onto his face.

Did she have something to say, or was she just going to keep…staring at him?

But then he smiled, his eyes meeting hers again. He let out a soft chuckle after a moment. “What?” he asked.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, and he tensed up instinctively, his eyes widening slightly.

Thudthudthud went his heart.

For a long moment, he studied her, her head against his chest, and he felt himself relax.

He wasn’t used to this.

He wasn’t used to being hugged randomly. He wasn’t used to being pressed against. He wasn’t used to…to this.

Thudthudthud, his heart continued.

Could she feel it? His heartbeat?

Self-conscious, he let out a long, slow breath, trying to steady his heartbeat.

Get a grip, Callaghan. She’s your girlfriend.

She was his girlfriend, yes.

She as his girlfriend, and her head was against his chest, and he didn’t know what to do besides stand there and try to calm his fecking breathing and still his heart.

And all he could think was, I could get used to this.

Besides, his arms were restricted by her grip, so it wasn’t like he had many options, anyway.

So he just stood still, heart thudding, looking down at her, watching her breathe and feeling her breathe and trying to breathe himself.

And it felt like such a long time, really, in the best way possible— like the sand in the hourglass was snow.

He wasn’t comfortable, no. He wasn’t used to this, no. He was taken aback by her arms and her smile and her— her. And he didn’t…know what to do, but he did know one thing: this felt nice.

As a literarian, you’d think that he’d be able to find better words for the situation. You’d think that he’d be coming up with some…poetic monologue expressing just how contented he felt right now.

But none of that was coming. Of all feckin’ times for his words to fail him, they picked now.

Now, when he felt…

Well, fucking hell, that was what he was trying to get out.

But all he could think was that this was good, this was what should be happening— what was meant to be happening— and that he, uh…liked it.

Really fecking poetic, huh?

He cracked a smile.

Thudthudthud.

She lifted her head, and she studied his face a moment before her gaze met his. His smile broadened, and her lips twitched into a soft smile.

"Thanks," she said. “I…I know that like, like I already said that, like…like a lot but ummm…thanks— really. You didn't have to do any of that, like, you could've just called Eli and been done, and you didn't have to do any of that to Hunter, and I just…thanks, for being there. I…really like you, and it just, meant…a lot."

He smiled down at her, unsure exactly of what to say. “I, uh,” he started, and then he lost the words that he didn’t even have to begin with. For a moment, he blinked, trying to catch his words or somehow find them in her hazel eyes, but to no avail. “You’re welcome,” he managed finally. “It was the least I could do.”

Cautiously, he pulled his arms from beneath hers, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her. “And I really like you, too,” he said, and he looked away from her and to a painting on the wall. “I…”

But he trailed off, because he had nothing else to really say, and he just…held her for a bit, until his heart calmed down, until his smile faded smaller and smaller and smaller to a contented resting face, until his head cleared, until everything had quieted so much that he could hear the tickticktick of the clock that’d finally resumed its rhythm.

Until he finally felt like this was normal.

Until gangly, awkward, antisocial Sean Trevor Callaghan felt like beautiful, personable Ashton Blair West belonged in his arms.

“It’s been nearly a month now,” he finally said, breaking the silence with a voice that was hardly even a murmur. He spoke without apprehension, without thought, without mulling over his words much. His face read thoughtfulness. He paused a long moment, then looked down at her, pulling his arms from her. “I’m still getting used to it. Us. Bein’ in a relationship. Bein’ a boyfriend. It’s not something I’m used to— or good at. Tonight was…heh, an outlier.” He lifted his hand to her chin, tilting her face up towards him and brushing a strand of hair behind her ears. “But…if there’s anything that tonight told me, it’s that I like it— bein’ with you. An’ I think that it’s…worth all of this…effort, all of this trouble. I think you’re worth it.”

His lips pressed into a smile. “I…really like you,” he said again, and he leaned down to press a kiss against her lips.

mood
nice

location
the apartment

outfit
something casual

playing...
the funeral

by band of horses​

mentions
n/a

interactions
ash

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[ditto]

saint andrew taylor

live & let live

Jo’s behavior was, in a way, contagious.

Perhaps the most infectious thing about her, among the many infectious things about her— the thing that always got him first— was her sense of humor; it hardly ever failed to amuse him, even with it being as off-kilter as it always was, and though he had a reputation for and a proclivity towards being entirely stoic and nearly devoid of emotion beyond pensiveness, he often found himself nearly— if not fully— persuaded to smile or laugh.

It was odd, but she had a way of doing that to people, and she had a way of doing that to him.

“Ooo, are you gonna name it?” Jo asked, presumably about Saint’s heifer. “You should. I like the name LuLu! I had a puppy named LuLu once but she ran away. What about Jojo? Wait, don’t name her after me. Uhhh, oh! Milkshake! Because of cows and milk? Get it? That would be so cute.”

Saint had grown used to Jo’s excited rapid-fire manner of talking when they had been dating, and he could still keep up with it fairly easily. It was a glimpse into the way that she thought— one fast thing after the other, never really stopping or dwelling on much of anything.

He always found that interesting about her— just the way that her mind worked.

He let out a soft, amused breath of air. “I never considered naming it,” he said. He paused. Her excitement on the matter was compelling him to give it some sort of name, and he gave a soft sigh. “I suppose I spend a lot of time with it; come to think of it, I suppose it deserves more of a name than cow.” He paused again, then repeated one of the names that had caught his ear: “Milkshake…” He repeated it slowly, turning it over in his head, and then he remarked, “Cute.”

She smiled brightly at his comment about her wildcard night. "Hey! My wildcard nights are world-famous for being a blast! I've never had any of my customers complain so that's a plus, right? I have a money-back guarantee.” She laughed, and he caught himself breathing a soft chuckle, too.

As said before, her behavior was infectious; you really couldn’t blame him for...well, for lack of better words, being infected.

And, to his comment about joining her: “You should!” she said. “I mean, Tilly and I don't mind. The more the merrier, right?" She looked over to Tilly, still smiling. “What do you say?"

Stoic expression resumed, Saint looked to the girl beside Jo, but before an answer could come, a voice spoke up from beside them: “Tilly, he—“

Saint’s eyes flicked to his peer. Elias Johannes, Saint recognized him as. He couldn’t say that he could ever recall holding any conversation with him; he only knew him from shared classes.

Jo, however, spoke to hi as if she knew him very well. “Eli! Hey!” she said excitedly. “There is a crowd but four is a party! Wanna hang with us?” Saint’s brow poised up as he turned his attention to Eli, studying him (as he often did with people near him). “We are gonna break into the pool and skinny dip, it’ll be fun!”

Eli sputtered a fit of coughs, and then stammered, “I, uh, see the thing is…” His eyes were flicking between Saint and Jo in an obviously uncomfortable manner. “I’m actually leaving now but I totally appreciate the offer but the thing is that I can’t swim and that I would just drown and that sorta takes all the fun out of skinny dipping because nothing says hot like a dead body but I, uh, um…bye, Tilly, it was great seeing you again!”

The other boy was off quickly, Tilly saying a soft “bye…” after his departure, and Saint watched after him, his indifferent expression still resting on his face.

So Eli was a nervous wreck, at least upon mentions of skinny-dipping, and he also lacked the basic survival skill of swimming. Saint supposed that he would keep such things in mind; he never knew when such information would be useful.

“That was…certainly interesting…,” Saint commented in his stoic voice, and he looked over at Jo. “I think that you nearly killed the guy with your suggestion…,” he kidded, though there were no cues that he was kidding. “From the sound of things, if the suggestion hadn’t killed him, then going through with it would have. It seems you really dodged a bullet…or a body, be as it may.”

Suddenly, music began to play from somewhere, and Saint looked about in confusion. The girl named Tilly pulled her phone from her pocket, which turned off his alert; it was just a ringtone.

The voice on the other end was so loud that he could hear it from where he was standing: “Tilly, dearest, it’s your mummy!”

Tilly quieted for a moment, then giggled, saying to Jo and Saint, “Sorry, I have a call. I’ll, uh, just be a sec…”

She stepped a few feet away, and Saint’s eyes followed. He could hear some noise now, but he couldn’t make out the words. Finally, Tilly laughed, “Back parking lot you said, mom?” She looked over at him and the other girl, walking back over to them. “Sorry, I have to leave for a short bit. My mom just called and I forgot my toothbrush.” She laughed nervously. “But, uhm, have fun skinny dipping!”

She waved goodbye, and Saint raised his hand and gave a wave back before the girl took off.

He watched her leave. “Huh…,” he said slowly, “so her mother is British.”

He never would have guessed.

Turning to Jo, Saint let out a soft sigh. “It seems like it’s just you and me, once again,” he said, suppressing a smile.

Before you begin to believe that he was suppressing a smile because he had hoped that this would happen, he asked you to ask yourself: why would he want that? Why would he want to be alone with his ex? Even if he could personally name a myriad of reasons, he certainly did not wish to be alone with her; he was simply not upset that he just happened to be alone with her now.

“Should we head to the pool now…?” he asked, and he instinctively lifted his hand to offer it to her.

He dropped it quickly enough that she could only have caught him doing it if she’d been looking.

It was instinct that caused him to do it, after all— nothing more— and he didn’t want her to believe that it was anything more.

He turned and started in the direction of the pool. His typical leisurely walk was replaced with one that matched Jo’s speed. It was surprisingly easy to maintain, even though he hadn’t done such a thing in the two months that they’d been separated.

Two months…hm.

He eyed her.

Had it really been that long?

...Hm.

Chlorine burned his nostrils as they approached the pool. It was unpleasant, but it did nothing to turn his stoic expression. “Here we are…,” he said, and he pushed open the door, holding it open for Jo and stepping in behind her.

Their footsteps echoed through the entryway, and he studied Jo as they made their way into the larger area.

He admired her for those few moments, trying to capture it in his memory. It was a painting in an image: the excitement on her face and in her stature, pouring off of her like a fountain.

He’d said that her behavior was contagious; now he felt like he could physically see it flowing from her and onto him.

The pool wasn’t as empty as they had expected— though, come to think of it, he didn’t know why she’d expected it to be empty in the first place. It was the lock-in, after all, and the pool was always a popular spot.

Saint let out a soft sigh, looking over to Jo. “It seems as though several people had the same idea as us…,” he said. “How disappointing…though I can’t say I’m particularly surprised.”

He paused a moment. Where did they go from here…? Did they part ways…?

But it seemed that Josephine Bennett’s spontaneity somehow managed to spark something in easygoing Saint Taylor’s own spirit, and he started towards the pool door again.

“I think…that I have an idea,” he said, making his way through the entryway and to the door. He pulled the door open for her, and then he followed out behind her and began to make his way down the hallway.

Saint was not a troublemaker in any capacity. He kept out of everyone’s way and, for the most part, everyone kept out of his way. It was like an unspoken contract between him and his peers: I won’t bother you; you shouldn’t bother me.

However, Jo tended to bring a side out in him that few ever really saw. Something about her brought out the curious parts of him— the parts that were unafraid, unabashed, and wanted to know, know, know. Though he couldn’t say that her energy particularly wore off on him, certainly her demeanor did.

It made him just want to join in.

He turned into a classroom, flicking on the light to reveal the large, messy, comfortable place that was the art room. “You probably don’t come in here often…if at all,” he said, making his way over to a rack of paints. He studied a few of them before stooping down to the bottom shelf. “I find it rather comfortable, though…” His eyes searched a few, large boxed on the bottom shelf. He opened one, revealing multicolored latex balloons, and he looked over at Jo. The corners of his lips played at a smile, though they didn’t fully commit. “…and the best thing about it is that I know where everything is.”

Saint picked up the box and sat it easily on a nearby table, and then he picked a balloon from inside. He walked over to the paints once more, and he began to fill up a balloon with a bright yellow color. Once he found that it was sufficiently filled, he casually tied a knot in its neck to close it, picked up another balloon, and began to fill that one.

One after another, he filled the balloons, taking his time with it until there was a rather large pile of paint-filled balloons beside him.

Tying a knot in a final one, Saint walked over to Jo. “For you…,” he said, offering her the ballon. His lips played at a smile. “I thought it would be something that you’d enjoy it.”

Saint slowly made his way to the teacher’s desk and sat himself down in the chair. He sat for a long moment, watching Jo, and it seemed as though he wasn’t going to participate. That much would’ve made sense; Saint typically had no interest in such things.

Then again, he thought as he stood, he was with Josephine Bennett.

She was just so contagious that he couldn’t help but play along.

Walking back over to the pile of balloons, Saint’s lips finally broke into a smile, and he picked up a balloon from the top before looking at Jo. “You’re the expert here…what do you say we do with these?” he asked.

mood
paint

location
the art room

outfit
casual

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

by our last night​

mentions
n/a

interactions
jo, eli, & tilly

tags
natsukashii geminiy jasmyn

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Xed]

Spencer Gray

He had found gold at the end of the rainbow before yes. It had been a long time since he even came close to finding anymore though and no, he was no longer talking about his brother or his inability to say something that didn’t sound flirty.

Beth told him their destination would keep a secret because it was more fun that way and he smiled in response to her smirk. It was nice to see people happy. He could try starting from there. Just focus on having fun and making the other person smile, at least that way he could make sure something good was coming out of it and maybe worry a little less.

Keeping the destination a secret was certainly helping to add to his anticipation and build his excitement while taking over the space previously occupied by his worries.

"Please, Spencer," she started. "You're already in my good graces, but it's like, so hard to stay there."

So Beth was one of those tough customers huh? “Guess I’ll have to work hard then.” He chuckled, bringing a loosely formed fist to his lips. “If I want to keep you as a friend.”

Keep it neutral and friendly.

His brain reminded him as he threw in that extra line, trying to keep the flow of his words as smooth as possible so that it didn’t sound like what it was. An add on.

Why was he being so cautious you might ask? One, the Ez effect, being around and related to someone that flirty had a lot more of an impact than you might think. Two, well, him just being friendly had been mistaken for flirty and “I want to get to know you better romantically” more than once before. Just ask Ez and his brother would probably throw at half a dozen different stories, like the girl behind the cashier at the frozen yogurt store who’d asked for his number and then a date.

He’d given her the former and turned down the latter, and no, the request for a date had only come some time after he’d given his number not before. She’d mistaken him being nice for something more which was why he was being so wary.

Damn shaking the voices and this habit was difficult. If only he could just turn it off like a switch before he worried himself and others out of a good time over nothing.

Though it was also possible that it wasn’t nothing.

Crap.

"Anyway, I'm in the literature department," Beth explained. "It's not the most, like, glamorous of the departments. I swear to god everyone in that department has a stick up their ass. Like, it's so stuffy and boring. I'm pretty sure an old folk's home would know how to party better than them."

Beth certainly was no holds barred in her approach when it came to voicing her opinions about others. In contrast to how he was in the business of micromanaging every word he said, maybe even the breaths he was taking, it sounded so…freeing, and he missed it. Being able to talk freely like that without any worries.

“Does that include you?” He asked in a lightly teasing tone, trying to ease his shoulders into relaxing a little as he followed her down the hallways to their secret destination.

Literature huh?

He often told Nat stories while she was in the hospital to try and keep her preoccupied, lift her spirits and all. She’d smile and laugh when he did, though he had no idea if it was because the stories he told her were truly good or she was just showing her appreciation for his attempts to keep her happy.

Definitely not a writer though. Put a pen in his hand and he probably wouldn’t get past a couple of sentences. It amazed him how easily it came to some people and he admired the beauty of the tales they would weave. The strength of the characters that they would create as well, how they would overcome all the different obstacles in their way. There were times when he couldn’t help but envy them a little and wish he had their strength to just bounce back and conquer what was thrown their way.

"I don't really know anything about the dance department," she admitted, "I don't even think I've talked to anyone in the dance department. But I can show you the other cool places around the school. Like, the places you won't get on your actual tour."

“Well I’m honoured to be the first then.” Spencer said, raising a hand to his heart as he spoke. Maybe it was because Beth seemed to just speak her mind without a care in the world, but he was finding it easier to relax and loosen the typically tighter rein he had on his words. To respond without missing a beat.

"Well, the dancers are nice, though. Like they're kind of just those like really, really nice kids that don't get into a lot of trouble or anything. Kind of boring like the lit kids, but in a different way. Except a few of them are really big dicks, so like... you probably want to watch out for them.”

As they approached another doorway, she opened it up, this time politely holding it for Spencer and waiting for him to step through before she followed after him and then started up a flight of stairs.

"But you're, like, hot and nice, so I don't think anyone will really give you a lot of trouble."

Hot and nice.

Ok stop right there worrywart.

Just a friendly compliment.

That’s all.

Stop stressing over nothing.

You just met.

God this was really turning out to be a disease. The excessive caution, the overthinking about compliments, little things that he wouldn’t have blinked twice at before. Anything related to relationships. The best way he could probably explain it was that it was like a trauma of sorts. In his last relationship, he’d been hit on a couple of times by others who he had thought were just being friendly and he had just been friendly back, but it created a number of misunderstandings. He hadn’t been spending much time with his girlfriend because of his dance commitments and needless to say those incidents played a part in the damage their relationship suffered and the hurt he’d caused her.

He didn’t want to hurt anyone like that again but overthinking every little compliment like this was killing him, shackling his thoughts and his speech, his ability to just enjoy a nice, normal conversation.

Just smile and relax. Don’t overthink it. Please. If the topic of relationships come up, when they come up, you can just make your stance clear then. There’s no need to do this to yourself now.

God, he hoped his brain would listen.

“Thank you for the compliment and the tip.” He said, briefly acknowledging her words with a faint smile because ignoring them just felt rude. He then moved on to ask her a question, capitalising on the chance to try and change the topic so he could shift the gears in his brain and try to have a normal conversation without being plagued by that overthinking little voice in his head.

“So you live for excitement then? All the thrills and activity life has to offer,” Spencer waved his hands about as he spoke, each hand conjuring an imaginary option as he continued “the kind of girl that goes for say, amusement parks and short road trips over a day in with popcorn and a good show or just a quiet afternoon of family bonding?”

Personally, he didn’t really have a preference between them, he would be happy to undertake any of those options so long as someone was having fun doing them. If you weren’t having fun with what you were doing or making someone happy by doing it then, well he didn’t think it was worth doing in the first place.

They finally reached the top of the stairs and Beth pushed open the door, leading them out onto a rooftop that overlooked the night lights of Los Angeles.

"Tada," she said and gestured around. "Great view of, like, the sky and part of the city from here. Kind of. Anyway, you gotta be careful coming out here, though, because sometimes you'll catch people fucking and like... eww, no one wants to see that, you know?"

He stared in awe, as he followed her out into the middle of the rooftop, eyes bright like a little kid as he soaked it all in with a smile. The first smile he’d had in a while that just felt perfectly at ease.

“It’s breath taking,” he breathed, eyes still fixated on the view, from the night lights to the sky. Granted you couldn’t really see the stars all that well which was a tad disappointing, but he enjoyed a good view all the same. “Not the story I was expecting to come out of this place but I suppose I can see why. The view does make for a rather romantic setting though I doubt the elements help to convey that same ambience. Definitely worth the climb to get here though. Thanks for showing me this Beth.” He added as he looked down at his tour guide, all smiles. Her little titbit about the hook-ups had him shaking his head and all he could think of in that moment was his brother becoming one of those guilty parties, which he had to admit made him feel a tad guilty.

Sorry Ez.

He loved his brother but the amount of short-lived romances and hook-ups he’d had just made Spencer shake his head. You could say he was the more traditional romantic in the family he supposed. He wanted his relationships to be more than just about physical chemistry or the like and the idea of hooking up with someone just because they were attractive wasn’t something he could do, which was why he supposed he was still a virgin where most of the people around him had already lost theirs.

“Let’s keep this place a secret between us and not tell my brother about it.” Spencer suggested as he enjoyed the view and the feel of the cool night air on his face.

Ez would probably find it soon enough anyway but until then, there was just something about the idea of him not knowing that felt a little fun.

Consider it a little friendly payback for that good bit of teasing earlier before they parted ways since impeccable timing and luck had helped Ez evade his elbow jab.

mood
good vibes

location
the roof

outfit
comfy and easy

playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes​

mentions
Ezra

interactions
Beth

tags
Winona

º º code by ditto º º

 

[gh0stwriter]

Lucky DuBois

Subtly.

Nuance.

He had always been a fan. Anyone could just say something or do something and be extremely direct. But there was just something about subtly that Lucky enjoyed. Maybe it was the ability to say or do something without having to reveal any truth. Maybe it was the ability to unload feelings and emotions without anyone understanding that that was what he was doing.

Javi Cervantes was not subtle.

He watched the boy as he continued to analyze— attempt to analyze his psyche. Why it mattered? He had no idea. But the touches. The references to Lucky’s dick. Didn’t he get tired of always being on? The dude went a mile a minute and it was difficult to keep up.

“I know you like it. That’s why you came back,”

He rolled his eyes. “I was wasted and stoned. Ice cream sounded good.” He shrugged. “Don’t read too much into it.” It was the truth. Sure, there was more to it. He didn’t want to be alone. He had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

He had people.

Okay, so he had two people he could rely on, but..Josie...he couldn’t face her...not right after what had happened and Dorian had JJ. And it wasn’t like he could ready to talk about it. Javi, however unfortunate, knew on some level what he was going through. And...he had needed that. THAT night.

“You front like a jaded douchebag but all you ever talk about is what people are gonna say or what they’re gonna do.”

He glared toward the other boy. Felt the familiar feeling of blood heating up throughout his veins. Javi had a deathwish. It was the only explanation for him always saying so many wrong things just to get a reaction out of someone. He wanted to hit something. One of two ways he liked to handle situations that he would rather just gloss over and pretend they never happened. Yet, Lucky couldn’t really discern why he hadn’t pummeled the other boy yet.

Maybe there was a small fraction of truth in what Javi was saying. An extremely small fraction. They’ve had a total of two conversations and he was pretty sure one of them was a drunken tirade on how the Star Wars prequels were garbage and how Kylie Ren was a bitch. It’d be difficult to sum Lucky up completely. But yes.

He was worried about being outed. Afraid it’d affect the way people saw him. Can you blame him? The one other person who knew beat the shit out of him and never looked at him the same way again. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he just hadn’t known his father as well as he thought he had. But either way, it left a lasting impression.

That was the understatement of the year.

“You’re so fucking self-conscious, dude. Do you always give all your hookups such a chase?”

He laughed. Genuinely. Self-conscious? No. He was confident in most aspects of his life. Sex. Music. Fights. Those were the areas he excelled in. But what else mattered, amiright? “I wasn’t aware you were chasing me.” He said in a playfully sarcastic tone as he stroked a few more keys. It was obvious he was. For whatever reason, Javi felt the need to check in. Incessantly. Make sure he was good. Offer himself as a form of stress relief.. Maybe he felt guilty for outing him. Maybe he was just bored. Lucky had no idea what was rolling around in the other guy’s head.

“Were you writing music? Can I read it?”

He took a deep breath and looked up from the piano and over at Javi. Guess He was planning on sticking around. “Yeah, go ahead.” Lucky stated dismissively. He was proud of the work he did...proud of his music. “Didn’t peg you for the songwriter type.” He made small talk. The silence usually lent itself to bad thoughts, so best to keep the conversation going.

He played a little more of the song on the piano, getting lost. He was tired. Stressed. Tense. All things that could be easily solved. His eyes drifted toward Javi. “You know…”

“Shiiiiiiiiit.” Kian droned on, his hazel eyes flickering between the two boys. Guitar case in one hand and a bag in the other, Kian awkwardly shift the weight onto his foot. “Sorry if I interrupted something.”

Lucky’s eyes shot toward the intruder. Why does no one ever lock a door? Or make sure there aren’t cameras where there should be? It should be standard practice. At least for Lucky.

Interrupted something?

No. Just Lucky embarking on another bad decision. He cleared his throat. “You’re good, dude. We were...uh...just about to jam.” He said, giving his attention back to Javi. “Right, Cervantes?” He gave Javi a look. THE look. Whether he had enough common sense to comprehend was still a mystery.

mood
deer in the headlights
location
somewhere in the school

outfit
clothes duh

playing...
Figure Me Out

by The Summer Set​

mentions
Amy

interactions
Javi
tags
hery geminiy

º º code by ditto º º

 

[mogy]

• .
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• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  how he's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  eeeek
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  what he's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  soft jacket, soft shirt and some jeans on them bi**h

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where he's at...

  
  
  
  

  lock-in baby
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Winona (Nate)
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

oates

his boyfriend's boyfriend

"Yeah, of course. This is like sports. Like, uh, football, but instead of hut hut, you do a stretch stretch. Like this."

He explained to the obviously confused taller boy standing in front of him as he stretched out his own back and legs. Even if Nate might not have thought this was going to be actual dancing, Oates was going to obliterate him with a smile on his face, and Nate won't know what hit him. Or that was what the curly-haired boy thought as he made sure all of his body parts were ready for something physical. Nate definitely knew how to stretch because everybody had gym class at one point in their life or another, but then again, the taller boy was from Kansas, and Oates didn't know how the school system was over the mountains. Maybe they went camping or raised goats or something.

"One dance battle sounds good."

Hey, Oates was going to take what he could get. No dancing like bro dancing, you know?

"And don't worry, I'll go easy on you because I presume it's your first time dancing in front of somebody, yeah?"

He asked, but by the awkward shuffling and basically non-existent footwork going on before him, it had been crystally answered. Maybe Nate was going to relax and let go because, at the end of the day, dancing was about letting the music control you like you were one of those puppets on a string. It was an amazing feeling, and it didn't matter if one looked crazy while doing it. Oates' first dance lessons had been something to see; embarrassing as heck, but the joy of physical activity and music had undoubtedly been present.

Then again, he was a guy who didn't look like he knew what the word relax meant unless he had some weed with him, and that was a shame. Some rock song came on, and while it hadn't been Oates' cup of tea, he still let the music flow through him, as he started shaking his head violently like the players would on the stage. If those music boxes with the ballerina inside had Shrek was basically what Nathan Woods looked like when Oates looked at him after stopping shaking his head. Rough.

"No, no, no. Wrong."

He admitted, walking over to his phone to turn down the music.

"You need to let go. It's like yelling."

He said before thinking of something and then releasing a loud yell inside the soundproofed room.

"Like if something's bothering you, just let it out, you know. This is like therapy with Oates. And the only thing better than therapy with Oates is therapy with Oprah, but she couldn't really be here today, so..."

He rambled, and it almost let Nate get away with not dancing, but Oates wasn't that dumb.

"Now you do it. You yell. As hard as you can. Just think about something which makes your skin boil. I thought about that video of little ducks falling into a sewer if you needed inspiration."

This was very weird, not to Oates, however. Few things were weird to Oates, and that wasn't something that went well for the people around him, which, in this particular moment, was Nate.

Good luck Nathan Woods, you're in for a treat, if that hadn't been already obvious.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Winona]

Ava Sanders

If Ava was a different person, a different girl, she might feel an ounce of slight embarrassment or apprehension at the very idea of being in the library building a mother fucking fort out of tables and chairs with some loser kid named Angel that she'd found sniffling like a little bitch baby because some girl had hurt his feelings.

Now this wasn't to say some shit like "she wasn't like other girls" because, seriously, that was the fucking dumbest shit she'd ever heard, and she almost always wanted to put a bullet through her head when she heard girls saying that shit. It was just that Ava, quite simply, didn't give a fuck who might see them in there. They could tease away as much as they fucking wanted, because it wasn't going to get under her skin.

Say whatever you might want to about Ava, but something could be said for her whole refusing to let people get under her skin deal. It was a skill that most people didn't pick up until well into their adulthood, if fucking ever.

"You're kind of fucking smart," Ava said to Angel as he started pushing tables, and rearranging chairs. He liked the way he thought -- about how they would only have to defend one front if they did this or that and so Ava, the girl that normally liked to be bossy and in charge of fucking everything, actually let go and listened to Angel's input.

They kept pushing tables, dragging chairs over, arranging the fort in such a way that it was protected from pretty much all sides so if it did come down to there being a sudden burst of zombies in, Angel and Ava were going to be set. Sure, they didn't have weapons, but they had books, and Ava was willing to bet that they could kind of just throw those at the zombies as really large, awkward ninja stars if it came down to it.

"You play video games?" She asked. "'Cause we should play sometime. It's super fucking hard to find anyone with half your brain for strategy, and I swear to fucking god if I end up with another really shit player that damn near costs me the whole round, I'm going to lose it."

True story. Some people just shouldn't even be playing.

And that was basically how the rest of her night was spent. Building a glorious fort in the library of the high school that she had no intention to tear down the following morning.

That was the glory of the lock-in -- they could do whatever they fuck they wanted without having to worry about cleaning up or putting shit away afterwards.

mood
mood mood mood

location
location location location

outfit
outfit outfit outfit

playing...
Bad Reputation

by Joan Jett and The Blackhearts​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Angel

tags
hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[Soap]

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

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

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

@Realex has interacted with:
Simone

@Realex has mentioned:
Naomi

@Realex has tagged:
natsukashii​

A hand had brought her out of her thoughts and Alex glanced down momentarily before returning her gaze towards Simone. Despite her trying to reassure her, it was most definitely ‘dumb’ to feel the way that she’d been feeling. Putting off adapting the script would only harm her in the long-run and Alex wasn’t the type to pull an all-nighter to finish it the day before they were scheduled to film. She just needed a push in the right direction. Not a nudge, not a... caress either— no judgement to Simone.

As much as Alex knew she shouldn’t be here, drinking the lock-in away... well, casually sipping it away to be fair— she needed a break from the computer screen, to ease off some stress.

And... Alex always enjoyed spending time with Simone. The girl was flirty and forward at times but that was just their banter, and honestly Alex didn’t mind it at all. Except when she had no idea what to say back and staggered over her words like a preschooler learning how to read.

Simone hopped onto the counter and Alex pocketed her phone right as her friend’s questions came in.

"You seem to be hanging with Naomi a lot these days."

Believe it or not, not as much as Alex would like. But maybe she’s just getting greedy with the songwriters time. It was all new, exciting, it was nice to have something— someone, to look forward to.

When somebody had the power to make you smile without even being near you, it was... well, it wasn’t special. She’s not going to say it was special.

But it was something.

And Alex didn’t know how to answer something.

"I mean, it's good. I'm glad you seemed to find someone, you know, who sees you as I do."

And how was that?

Before Alex could open her mouth to ask, Simone was already elaborating.

"Which is how amazing you are and, obviously how hot you are. If she doesn't, then that's her problem."

Alejandra couldn’t help but roll her eyes, the slight cheesiness of it all didn’t stop a blush from creeping onto her face.

Alex side-stepped closer to the counter Simone was sitting on, only now face-to-face level with the tiny girl. “Are you drunk already huh? Seeing double?” The brunette teased, waving a hand in front of Simone.

No, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Simone to compliment her. But it still surprised her almost every time.

Why? uh, look at her.

“Why should I believe someone who’s clearly intoxicated?” She wasn’t fishing for more compliments, Alex was just messing around. If anything, the more compliments headed her way, the more tongue-tied she’d become and that wasn’t something she wanted.

“Y’know, maybe you have a diabolical plan here? Get me drunk, ask me a ton of questions and then boom, you use all of them against me like some... evil Spanish princess.”

Her brows furrowed, narrowing her eyes slightly mocking deep thought and it was all wiped away with an amused smile that appeared onto her face moments after.

“That’d make for an interesting play y’know.”

º º code by ditto º º

 

[jasmyn]

• .
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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  just happy to be here!
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  too much? not enough?

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  school gym
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  casey ( Winona ) kelli ( ditto ) bella ( geminiy ) avery ( Xed )
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Camille Clairmont

dancing queen ~ 17 ~ junior

"Nice to meet you, Avery," she replied simply, her eyes flickering over when a new face joined their group and Cami offered her a smile as a greeting as well. The redhead girl was introduced as Ronnie and Cami had to think for a second before she realized she'd heard the name before. Triplet Date. That's what it was.

This was the girl who Casey had supposedly asked out although she seemed a lot less interested in him offline so she was a little confused by that. Whatever. Not her business. He better not have asked Eli to be her date for no reason though. It was embarrassing enough that he had been the one to do so already but if she had to cancel then it would be even worse.

"Cami, Cami..baby sister, please. It's Casey, in public, yeah?"

Cami couldn't help but roll her eyes as her poor brother tried so hard to look "cool" in front of the girls. He thought he was such a ladies man which she knew was only because their "fans" had given him such a big head. See, being stopped to take pictures, asked a million questions, paparazzi in your business 24/7; all that was kind of a package deal that came with being from a famous family.

Of course, Camille was no stranger to this and neither were her siblings but to say that Casey did get a little more of that attention was an understatement. Not because he was better (obviously) but because he was the musician and girls really seems to like him even if she wasn’t sure why. There had been a few times that she got ignored completely because people were too busy fangirling over him which drove her crazy and of course, he rubbed it in whenever it happened.

He had clearly hoped this was one of those times so when a pouty face replaced his cocky grin as the small girl recognized her too and his wish to be the "popular" sibling was crushed. Cami couldn't help but break out a grin of her own and if she weren't in front of so many people she might've stuck her tongue out. Not in an immature way or anything.

Between Casey calling her a nerd for learning French (rude) and Kelli still freaking out about their presence, Cami hadn't really caught much that was being said. Look, she might've been used to the chaos but that didn't mean she didn't get overwhelmed sometimes and this was new territory to her. She did happen to catch the part about games though and perked up, nudging Casey as a sort of "I told you so" thing. "See! Party games," she chirped, the smile on her face growing.

Before she knew it they were all sitting in a circle hidden behind the bleachers and Bella was asking which game they wanted to start with. "Would you rather sounds fun! We used to make up scenarios and play that when we were little on the tour bus. Remember, Case?" she looked to him for a second before turning back to the group. "I'll start?" she suggested before scanning the group for who to ask first.

"Oh! Avery! Okay, would you rather be able to speak every foreign language ever or be able to talk to and understand animals?"

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Soap]

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  how she's feeling...

  
  
  
  

  Very frustated
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  what she's wearing...

  
  
  
  

  Nellie-ish

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  where she's at...

  
  
  
  

  somewhere with a breeze.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  in the conversation...

  
  
  
  

  Cappie, Mikaela 0k_mang0 Xed
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

Chanel Clairmont

Visuals ~ 17 ~ Actress

If she’d just stayed at the house tonight none of this would’ve happened. But nooooo, lock-ins are extremely important to make friends! Yes, because Chanel was making a ton of friends locked outside the school with nowhere to go. She wasn’t usually the type of person to blame other people for the situations she’s ended up in, but right now she really hated her siblings.

Mikaela more so, but Casey and Cami were pretty up there too.

“Good news: I’ve managed to tell someone we’re locked out.”

An eyebrow raised in slight surprise and moderate hope was written all over her face before it dropped instantly as Cappie continued.

“Except I forgot to tell him where exactly.”

Great. Of course he did.

He wasn’t ugly but he wasn’t very bright either it seems. She’s likely being too harsh on him right now but at least she isn’t saying it to his face. Clearly Chanel has respect for him— even if someone as... spontaneous as Mikaela could outsmart him.

So, what was there to do? Wait and blindly hope someone were to find them in these next few hours? Wait till Mikaela sobered up and came to her senses. Cappie offered his vehicle and Chanel rolled her eyes as he mentioned that he kept hold of at least one pair of keys. The blonde gestured towards absolutely nowhere for him to lead the way.

The pair walked past more than a few incredibly expensive cars, cars that may seem a little too ‘fast’ for a teenagers first car to some, but it wasn’t like Chanel believed that. Don’t get her wrong, a fifiteen year old boy’s first car shouldn’t be a Lamborghini, but if someone craved luxury and could afford it— she didn’t see the harm in that. Unless they were simply doing it for the public eye.

There’s quite a lot Chanel did for the public eye, so it wasn’t as though she’d judge people now— at least, not to their face or anyone else’s.

Believe it or not, the blonde was quiet with her own opinions when needed be.

They reached an SUV and Chanel raised an eyebrow.

“A Cadillac? I wasn’t sure you had more than one vehicle.” She stated, obviously stating towards Cappie’s motorcycle he was so infamous for.

Hm, okay, he wasn’t known for it or anything. He’s just mentioned it a few times.

What?

Chanel’s observant.

The doors unlocked and Chanel took a seat inside the passenger, plugging her phone in with a sigh as she placed it on the dashboard, waiting for the device to charge.

She dusted her skirt off, flattening it out and leaning back into the seat, glancing sideways over at Cappie.

Awkward silence.

God, she hated silence.

“... So, are you going to tell me?” She asked, suppressing the slightest amused smirk that was threatening to break through the corner of her lips.

“I figure since we’re here, alone, free of any recording devices, you should let me in on the big conspiracy theory that is your real name. You owe me that at the very least.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[hery]

MOOD: well helloooo

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: music room

basics

MENTIONS:
Jace

INT:
gh0stwriter (Lucky)
geminiy (Kian)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Javier Cervantes

Javi smirked.

Well, when was he not, really?

It was cute, the way Lucky feigned disinterest and playfully teased him all in the same minute. The guy was as hopeless as ever. Maybe his sour attitude could have deterred the majority of his one-and-done hookups, but that took the fun out of Javi's favorite part: the rapport. That interconnectedness that arose from being, well, connected. Now, the muscled boy in no way favored commitments or any social anchors of the sort, but it was still a pleasant feeling fucking around in more than one way.

He lived for the party, the thrill, and the fun of it all. Sex, fights, and people. He loved them all. It kept him alive. He suspected the same from Lucky, which would perhaps explain why the tight-assed musician was so dead inside. At least, he liked to pretend like it. The way he shrugged off Javi's reminder of their ice cream outing was a dead giveaway. He let Javi in, then continued to shut him out and open up and repeat until both of them had whiplash.

Lucky seemed so tired, and even when he was at his liveliest, there was still an apprehension about him that tied him to the ground. He was a fun guy at heart; Javi knew that. He was worth participating in more dumb shit with than a one-off Halloween hookup. Did he know it yet?

Hmm... maybe? Some parts of him were hard to read. That, or it all went right over Javi's head. Both were two very, very viable explanations.

After one last glance at Lucky, he paged through the songbook further. He retained his easygoing, annoyingly cocky smile as he scrutinized every lyric, his face scrunching up only when he passed a line he couldn't decipher, which was admittedly a lot. All of it felt like that nonsensical garble presented in English classes, like it had a meaning but not really. Javi thought making up interpretations was fucking stupid. Why write your feelings and make it impossible for anyone but yourself to comprehend?

Based on the songs he'd scanned, Javier decided that either Lucky was a pretentious, artificial asshole or he seriously had some issues.

The fellow musician was leaning on the latter.

“Didn’t peg you for the songwriter type.”

"I'm not," he admitted, startled by the other boy's keen eye. Was he calling him slow-witted, or...? Whatever. Fuck that. There's a market for cover bands. His was the shit, back when he was actually in one, say, a few weeks ago.

"I got nothing important to say," he elaborated with a chuckle, keeping his head down as he went through the book, "Still wanna get a look at your shit. Get a feel for your brain waves, you know?" Going through Lucky's head-hurting manifesto of abstract phrases left Javi with an amused look about himself. He didn't laugh too much so as to not let the clearly sensitive boy take it the wrong way, but it really was an intrigue flipping through his work. It wasn't all he was expecting, but at least some of it had to mean something. After all, music is the language of the soul.

Shutting the book, Javi finally looked up. "Not bad. Not bad at all." He looked smug as ever, and the boy across the room painfully impassive as usual. Besides the occasional jab and masked flirt, that was all he seemed to offer when he was sober. Javi didn't really need drugs and alcohol to loosen up like he did. He had to consider himself lucky, really.

So... why was he so big on substances, then?

Good question.

"I can't really understand half of what you're saying in here, to be honest." He raised an eyebrow. "Was that intentional? And don't say it's because I'm stupid, because I know even a giant nerd like Piss Baby Jacey wouldn't get it either." He looked back to Lucky expectantly, as though he'd caught him in some sort of lie. He was onto him. There had to be some overarching meaning that would give Javi even a glimpse into the guarded guy's head. He'd hardly picked up on the sound of the piano being played until it petered out, Lucky's fingers losing their places.

"You know..."

And then, an outside force cut his words into two, the rest of Lucky's thought fizzling into the air. Both their heads jerked to the sound at the door traveling towards the back of the room.

“Shiiiiiiiiit. Sorry if I interrupted something.”

Javi's eyes drifted to Lucky. Was there something?

“You’re good, dude. We were...uh...just about to jam," Lucky explained with a sideways glance, eliciting an eyeroll from Javi. Yeah, yeah, he got the message. “Right, Cervantes?”

This could be fun.

"Right, yeah," he agreed, his words tinged with a hint of excitement, "Just need to, uh... tune my bass." He set the songbook down and made his way to the back, seizing hold of whosever out-of-tune bass guitar was resting against the wall. He sat down on a table, fiddling with the knobs and strumming it. "Haven't really jammed with anybody since my band split." He laughed at his untruth. The truth was, he'd totally been kicked out.

He knew Lucky would kill him for it, but he had to ask.

"You go out of your way to go to the Lock-in just to grab your guitar, or...?" He smiled easily at the newcomer, whose face he recognized only from the odd stream of weird bullshit in Twitter. A lot of people seemed to acquaint themselves with others that way. "Don't tell me you're all alone too, man. You're a loner just like this bozo." He looked back at Lucky, pointing his thumb backwards at the mildly-alarmed boy.

It really was like he shat his pants over everything. He was going to need a diaper for all that anxiety one day.

code by valen t.

 

[hery]

MOOD: dear god let me out

OUTFIT: clothes

LOCATION: school

basics

MENTIONS:
Oates, Ash
INT:
Winona (Jace)
ditto (Mike, Lin)
gh0stwriter (Landon)
geminiy (Gen, Charlie)

tags

TL;DR no

tl;dr

Callum Richards

Gen wasn't crying. That sucked.

Callum figured his words wouldn't be enough to elicit a visible reaction from the mighty, universally-feared model. She retained a stubbornness familiar to his own persona, making a point to be absolutely, completely unfazed by his ranting and raving. Even after divulging a glimpse at real emotion and comparing Gen to himself (which was a more grave insult than she gave him credit for), there was nothing.

Still, it would have been nice to get under her skin just a little. Callum was fighting for two, considering how easy it was to sedate Jace.

The pale boy wanted to scream and shout, to somehow wipe that smug expression off Gen's face. She thought she had the upper hand. Of all people, why challenge Callum in a competition of withholding emotion? Just where did this demoness get off disregarding his tirade like it was nothing? His blood reaching its boiling point, his face burned red. Even when delivering a semi-calm rant with a mostly normal volume, it was clear just by looking at him how ticked off the dancer was.

There was only one person who could look him dead in the eye, tears staining her cheeks, and smile.

And, lo and behold, Genevieve Johannes did just that. She burst into laughter.

“Hold on, give me a minute to pretend like I’m hurt.”

Callum wanted to take his fist and throw a right hook, but even a moodily outspoken teenager such as himself foresaw the outcome to that. He stared down at her indignantly, waiting in silence as she wasted more time laughing her ass off. Such a grandiose prick.

“I mean seriously. A single slutshaming comment and you calling me a shitty person was supposed to hurt my feelings? And come on, comparing yourself to me? Please, I already know we’re built from the same cloth, darling.”

With a cocked eyebrow, Callum curled his lip. Some of the rage in him simmered down as he began to decipher what she meant. Sure, he'd expected the cocky drama queen to shrug off the surface-level insults, but never did he imagine she'd agree with the rest of his assessment.

Not that he'd lied. They really did share some commonalities, all to their mutual detriment.

"You don't mean that," he protested almost immediately, arms crossed and intense gaze trained right back at her, "Your pride would never allow it." That wasn't meant as an insult, but more of a plain fact. He was surprised, even as far as to consider himself intrigued by her identical assessment on their true natures. The infamously anemic senior replied to her in the least argumentative context he'd presented all night, simply as a means to seek her clarification.

He wasn't quite sure what she was getting at, but he knew this development would spell his ruin. The way she crumpled his words and threw them out the window, there was no doubt Gen was gunning for his head. Well, fine. She could throw all she had at him, but he had a much stronger will than his noodle arms.

“You are just as cruel and heartless as I am. We both have reputations that people avoid for whatever reason, be it fear or distaste. We both can’t keep a friend if our lives depended on it, nor are any of our romantic relationships healthy." Not fucking true. Callum and Oates had a plethora of issues to deal with, but they were right for each other. Both together and apart, he always maintained that belief. People came and left, but it had yet to become his downfall. Above all, he wondered if Gen could take loneliness and solitude like he could. Yes, they shared a striking amount of dangerous characteristics, but she could never reach his level.

In order to fully hurt him, Gen would have to stoop all the way down and roll in the filth of a life he created for himself. She'd have to take his aloof, muddled brain and undergo pound after pound of the inexplicable feelings plaguing him. Callum was a walking corpse, but every day he woke up with the knowledge that it wouldn't be his physical state that would spell his demise.

So, no. Her mind games wouldn't work a mind so closed there were three padlocks and a passcode just on the surface. Still, she pissed him off bad. Gen was half of everything he hated about himself and all of which he hated about everyone else.

Thank god Callum was a man of few words. If he said half of all this out loud, he'd have already been down for the count.

"I mean come on! I fucked my—" Blah, blah, he could care less about the drama. He didn't need Gen's confirmation to know how much of an absolutely fucked up individual she was. "—best friend’s brother after I fucked someone he absolutely hated just a few hours earlier and the only meaningful connection you can maintain is some guy that only wants you when he needs to feel like he’s fixing you. It’s fucking adorable!”

"You take it the fuck back!" he demanded, jabbing his finger in the air toward Gen, "Oates stays with me because he's faithful. You're beyond the point of ever comprehending someone like him." What did she know? Gen didn't know a thing about loyalty; she just proved that herself, and it didn't help that she was covering for backstabbing Ash of all people. She didn't know Oates. Hell, she didn't even know Callum either. At this point, the Plastic was just spewing shit and by the fucking gods Callum would NOT get pissed off.

He was fucking cool as a cucumber. Heh.

This was nothing.

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

As if being pulled apart piece by piece, it slowly dawned on Callum just what Gen was doing. She had to know somewhere that he was incapable of denial, even as he outwardly insisted upon countering everything she had to say.

So, it was true. She'd hit the same rock bottom he had, with no need fpr a glimpse into his mind. Callum's ice blue, dark-circled eyes hardened further, straining to keep in not tears, but the rush of emotions flowing into him. She was absolutely right, and all of that had to come from a place of understanding. It was below the belt, but it pierced straight into his heart.

Oddly enough, the dagger cutting into his heart left no external wound, for it had been long lodged inside him, to be pushed further only in the darkest of night, every night.

Alone.

"Just stop talking," he pleaded firmly, grinding his teeth with restrained hurt.

“Because as you are right now, you’re flawed, you’re unlovable, unrecognizable, fucking worthless at the end of the day without someone actively trying to fix you. That’s the difference between you and me, Callum."

"What could you possibly mean? What makes you think that anything here is one-sided? Everyone's a fucking user."

"We are both fucked up people but people like the thrill of being around me, of spending their time with someone they know will hurt them. And when people leave me, there’s always a backup. But you?”

His gut was screaming to cover his ears.

But he couldn't.

Gen reached up and placed a filthy, freezing cold hand on his shoulder, fingertips gently patting his back. He tensed up, turning to stone. “Well, one day all the people fucking stupid enough to take you on as their little pet project will leave you. Because at the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a fucking charity case that other people use to make themselves feel whole. One day they’ll all realize that there’s no fixing you and they’ll all leave. With Ash gone, your numbers are dwindling. Hell, even Jace cracked. It won’t be long until Oates leaves too. But I think you already knew that.”

Callum looked to Jace, who didn't have the balls to even look his direction.

He was speechless, honestly, and there was nothing he could say that wasn't "You're absolutely right. Nothing you said is wrong." Regardless, he didn't have to, because his face said it all. His grimace softened and he gradually stopped grinding his teeth to dust. His glare showed only defeat, but it was an indignant, resentful image that latched onto Gen and wouldn't let go. No matter the truth, what she'd just said was irreversible. Those were more than mere words.

It was a prophecy, unfolding right as they spoke.

"I'm finished talking with you," he spat in his usual monotone, perhaps even colder than usual. If that's possible.

Without waiting a second, he stepped over to Gen's former place in the doorway and finally gripped the door handle, jiggling it vigorously. He leaned his weight on the door, then furiously banged on it. "I need to LEAVE!" he shouted, slamming his first on the door with increasing frequency and intensity.

After a desperate minute, he let go, then turned around to observe the physical altercation put on hold.

“And what have you done this whole fucking time, Dicks?” Mike asked him out of the blue, walking up to him. He shoved him toward the door, causing Callum to grip his arm in pain. “You give it a try, huh?”

Yeah, well, now that all was said and done, he was all for it. Now it wasn't for a lack of trying. "What do you want me to do?" he drawled with a hint of actual, passionate exasperation. Couldn't Mike just pick the lock with his micro or something? Callum was sure it would fit. Why else would the guy hold so much rage within? The bed at home was looking so, so good right about then. He'd begun to take it for granted now that he wasn't spending three quarters of his day in it anymore.

After more shoving and a disproportionately high amount of insults slung at Jace, Callum was once again defeated. He was tired, ashamed, and especially hesitant toward defending his friend. What good did that do if he just sat there and indirectly allowed Gen to pick his psyche apart into pieces?

Again, he wasn't mad, but...

It just wasn't worth the trouble for someone like that. Just... not in that moment. He made no effort to even look at Jace, over it all.

And, as though Callum didn't already have a headache, the idiot lovers had to come in and make them as miserable as possible before proloning their extended stay in the classroom of Hell. "Just let me out," he groaned, far too weary to raise his voice beyond a mutter. Wherever those voices were coming from, he couldn't be bothered to check where.

"Don't give them cash..." he grumbled with another layer of irritation and disappointment. He clutched the bridge of his nose, battling a ferocious headache as he stepped in the puddle of Jace's "water". He wasn't looking—it could have been the spineless fucker's piss at this point. He made an attempt to lower Jace's arm before Lin could snatch the cash out of his palm.

Staring straight through the window, the walking skeleton drawled hoarsely, "It's been a long night. Come on."

code by valen t.

 

[Xed]

Avery Ohtani

Kelli giggled. “Kelli!” she answered. “Or Kelli-train! Or Kellian, or Kay, or Kel, or Kels, or Kellster, or Kellagmite, or anything, really!” She dissolved into giggles. “It’s dope to see you again, too, Avery! I hope all of your moving in’s been going well!”

That was a lot of nicknames, she was rattling off. Kelli-train, Kellian, Kay, Ke- Ke…Kellister? Kellor? Kellagamite? Yeah, she’d lost him, not to mention the sheer number of options scared him. How was he supposed to decide what to call her? What if she was feeling more Kelli one day than say Kelli-train and he’d pick the wrong name to call her by? How did she even end up with that many nicknames?

The questions buzzed in his head as he managed a simple response to her question, although his slightly creased brow and barely there smile mismatched his words. “Yeah, moving in went great. Thank you for asking.Oh right!”

He started to dig through his bag again until he found the right box and held it out to Kelli.

“I got you a little nice to meet you gift.” His confidence had grown a little from Bella’s positive reaction to her gift and it showed in the brighter tone of his voice. “I hope you like it.”

In picking out a gift for Kelli, he had far less to go on than he did with Bella. In the end, he ended up opting for what he read was a standard gift for girls, a pair of earrings. As for the design, it was the letter of her initials, since he didn’t really know what she did or didn’t like.

Wait. His body tensed as he remembered the siblings who were with them. He hadn’t bought any gifts for them, the only thing he had left in his bag that could maybe be considered a gift was just the snacks he had packed. They didn’t fell left out or excluded right? That was the last thing he wanted to do.

Avery turned to face the pair, one hand scratching the back of his head. He felt awful about this, especially given how nice and friendly they were.

How did he know that? Well, they were really nice and friendly in returning his greetings, and they just gave off good energy. Yeah, Avery’s standards for what constituted a nice person were really low.

The discussion quickly shifted to what they ought to do for the night, with Kelli quickly throwing out suggestions like truth or dare or two truths and one lie, things they did at slumber parties. He just listened in wonder as his excitement build up inside him. He’d never played these games before, but he couldn’t wait. His first-time playing games with other people, not just his parents or his imaginary friends, but real people around his age at his first ever school event! In case you couldn’t tell from the glow in his eyes and how he was just locking onto every word that was said, he was completely entranced.

A new girl with a shock of bright red hair bounced in out of nowhere with a cheery greeting and immediately started to chatter away, introducing herself as Ronnie.

Wow. How did she do that?

She just spoke with such confidence, and ease, and energy.

Was Ronnie what they called a social butterfly?

Maybe with enough experience and practice he could become like her one day and talk to people that easily.

After Ronnie’s arrival, Bella quickly took charge, of the group, leading them over towards the bleachers. He trailed behind them a little, remembering as he stared at their backs, about the matter of the lack of gifts.

Quickly catching up to the nearest of the siblings, Avery gave Casey’s sleeve a little tug. “Um hey Casey, I’m sorry I didn’t prepare a gift for you and your sister. I didn’t mean to exclude you two or anything. Um if you and your sister can take any of the snacks I brought tonight. All of them even if you want.”

Bella in the meantime had settled into a wide open space, forming a circle with the others. Avery quickly settled into a spot, placing his bag behind him as Cami picked a game to play called ‘Would you rather.’ He vaguely remembered seeing it in a show once long ago, if his memory served him correctly you were supposed to pick between two options or something.

His smile faded a little. This was going to be tough. Making decisions was hard. What if liked both options? In that case couldn’t he just choose them both?

"Oh! Avery! Okay, would you rather be able to speak every foreign language ever or be able to talk to and understand animals?"

Avery blinked when he realised that Cami had directed the first question of the game at him.

Um ok uh...

Every foreign language or speak to and understand animals right?

Both those would be such cool gifts! How could he possibly pick between them?

“Can’t I pick both? They’re both such cool talents.”

Nope? He couldn’t. Oh man. Now he had to choose between them. This game was hard.

He scratched the back of his head as he tried to rack his brains for an answer.

“Uh I think…um…I’d pick…every foreign language…...yeah…being able to speak every foreign language.” Animals were really cool and cute, especially birds and their ability to fly and see everything on the land, but he liked people more, and talking about foreign languages had reminded him of the French words Bella had said to him earlier.

”I want to know what other people are saying like the words Bella said earlier uh….le…lei minion, gar…gar sun le citrun and um lumon…cherry…uh sherry?" He repeated uncertainly in a terribly broken attempt at French.

“Anyway um yeah, that’s my choice. Foreign languages.”

Now what? Was he supposed to ask someone else next? That’s how the game went right?

His eyes flicked around between the faces present. How was he supposed to decide on who?

Uh….

“Casey um which one would you pick? Being able to speak every foreign language ever or be able to talk to and understand animals.”

Repeating the question was allowed right? Cause he had no idea what to ask otherwise and the pick of Casey? Totally random, he just threw out the first of the names that had come to mind.

mood
is this how it goes?
(AKA trying to human)

location
the gym

outfit
casual and comfy

playing...
song title here

by artist here​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Bella, Kelli, Casey, Cami, Ronnie

tags
geminiy ditto Winona jasmyn hery

º º code by ditto º º

 

[0k_mang0]

MOOD:
welp

OUTFIT:
Jacket & shirt
sweatpants & shoes
​

INFO

LOCATION:
outside school

WITH:
Chanel

MENTION:
Mikaela, Magnolia, Ash, Eli, Gen​

ACTIVITY

Soap

TAGS

cappie

Cappie could only shrug and slightly smile apologetically as if to say My bad. He’d never claimed he was perfect—nobody is, obviously, unless someone had an inflated ego the size of Texas or the SAT guidebook to believe otherwise—and he didn’t understand why anyone would assume that he could solve every problem.

At least Chanel didn’t continue piling on his school key mishap or say whatever she was thinking of it aloud during their stroll through the parking lot. He appreciated that.

“Not mine,” Cappie replied to her comment about the SUV. “Gen and Eli’s parents let me borrow it for tonight. I’m more of a Chevy and Ford guy, not that I can afford either of them right now.”

After settling in the driver seat, he turned on the engine, keeping the car idling in its parking spot, turned on the ceiling lights, and pointed out the USB port on the center console for Chanel. As he plugged in his own phone charger, she brought up the “big conspiracy theory” that is his name.

"So, are you going to tell me?”

“Sure, I’ll tell you,” he began casually, allowing himself a small cheeky, amused smirk because he can. “If I fall first on the skating rink. We made a bet, remember? Unless you have an idea to make it more interesting, I don’t change deals once they’re set.”

It was a little bet that Cappie suggested on a whim, but also to humble down Chanel in a harmless, partially embarrassing way after she had heavily implied she was better at skating than him in their DM session. If Cappie falls first, he tells her his real name, which she was oddly obsessed with, and acts as her personal servant or whatever. If—no, when Chanel falls first, Cap gets nickname privileges and calls her Nellie Wellie or Channy without repercussion. He was surprised she’d actually agreed to that dumb bet.

“I can tell you who knows. My mom, of course. Ash West, maybe Eli... But they promised never to tell anyone, so I doubt you’ll get an answer from them.”

Truth be told, he was actually embarrassed about his real name. His mom naming him after one of her favorite actors was a sweet gesture, but why couldn’t she pick the first name only? Well, Cappie could’ve just called himself Leo, but it was kinda boring and basic, almost like Kyle or Josh. He’d met, like, 80 Leo's during elementary and middle school, and he didn’t want to be that kid getting picked on for being named after his zodiac sign. That was weird even for him.

“So, I kinda have my own answer for this question, but I wanna hear what you say honestly,” Cappie said, adjusting his seat to slightly slant back, and comfortably lacing his fingers over his stomach, “Why did you message me about Maggie and Mikaela? You could’ve just said you don’t want my help and call another friend to join you. I wouldn't mind.”

code by valen t.

 

[geminiy]

Genevieve Johannes

@genjohanne has set their status to:
...

@genjohanne has set their outfit to:
...

@genjohanne has set their location to:
her car

@genjohanne has mentioned:
...

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

@genjohanne has tagged:
hery Winona gh0stwriter ditto

If Genevieve never saw any of those people’s pathetic faces again, it would be too fucking soon. She was tired of Jace somehow getting involved every time there was drama in her life, tired of Mike being a blatant asshole to hide the fact that he was a real fucking person, tired of the mystery and the running around with Landon, tired of looking Callum in the face and hearing herself reflected in his words. She was fucking tired.

Gen hated who she became in moments of uncontrollable tension, a previously caged beast escaped and untamed in a crowd of innocent bystanders. She hated how vicious she became, tearing people down for no other reason then to make herself seem better than them. She hated how intrusive she became, how easily she tore into psyches and ripped them apart because the flaws she sees in others are the same she sees in herself. There wasn’t a sliver of Gen in moments like lock-in that she could stand.

Fuck, she needed to get out of there before someone really got hurt.

“We could use Mike’s head as a battering ram. It’s thick, hollow and he’s already a dumbass so no worry about brain damage.”

Gen turned to look over at Landon, jaw clenching with anger at his little jab at Mike.

“Yeah, real fucking classy, Lan.” Gen spat with a shake of her head. He was better than petty insults and getting some sort of sick satisfaction from a last laugh. “Real classy.”

Before Gen could begin to think of an alternative escape route, Mike had begun running his mouth. She wasn’t entirely paying attention to his words since, realistically, they were nothing more than him throwing around hot air in some failed attempt to seem cool or tough or whatever the fuck he was doing. When was he going to learn that no one had any respect for him when he talked like that?

“You’re right, we won’t be able to get out of here.” Gen laughed weakly as she bent over to gather up the shattered remains of her phone off the floor. “Not while you, Mike, are forcing your singular fucking braincell in that overly thick skull of yours to work overtime to try and conjure up a few shitty insults instead of looking for a way out.”

Fucking pathetic. He was just so fucking pathetic. Hell, it was so bad that somehow Jace had become the smartest guy in the room and that, dear friends, was a huge compliment coming from Genevieve.

“Ayo! Give us both a hundred and we’ll break you fuckers out, luhmao! That's fifty percent off if you take the offer right now!”

Gen turned her head towards the voice and cringed at the face that met her through the glass. Lindsay Kay, crack-kid extraordinaire, having come to their rescue. Gen’s face immediately dropped. Wonderful, just wonderful, that Lin of all people had showed up to bust them out. There was no possible way that Gen was ever going to live this down.

But then, a smaller figure appeared beside him and eventually climbed up onto his shoulders. Charlie was there, fingers fiddling with the outside locks of the screen as she attempted to pull the frame off of the concrete.

Jace was the first to the window, wads of cash in hand and water spilled all over the floor, begging Charlie and Lin to let them out. Callum was not far behind him, continuing the pleas to get out of the room. Their attempts would be useless, there was no way that the two people on the other side of the glass would want to see either one of those idiots freed from their discomfort.

(Remember how a little while ago Gen had said that Jace somehow was the smartest guy in the room? Yeah, she has since rescinded that compliment. Like seriously, wads of cash? How sad.)

Gen walked over to the window, hoisting herself up by the ledge to stand on a low bookshelf underneath the window. Bypassing Lin completely, Gen glared daggers into Charlie’s eyes as she forced a friendly smile onto her face.

“Charlotte,” Gen growled out the full name, acrylic fingernails tapping out a rhythm on the window ledge. “You let us out right the fuck now or everyone in this school will know about the habanero incident.”

Charlie’s eyes squinted in her staredown with Gen. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Keep us locked in here and you’ll find out the answer for yourself.” Gen answered confidently. With a sigh from the blonde on Lin’s shoulders, she carefully maneuvered the screen out of the frame and onto the ground.

Where a grin of satisfaction would have been on Gen’s lips was instead a frown, her entire face draining of any life that she had left in her. Freedom was bitter and anything but sweet for the moment she was out, Gen would have to face the consequences of her actions and that was going to suck.

Grabbing her bag from the ground on the other side of the classroom, Gen wasted no time pulling herself out through the window. Her legs swung over the edge carefully as she hopped down to the kissable pavement outside, the sharp metal of the frame digging into the skin on her thigh. It took Gen a few moments to acclimate to the world outside of the classroom, her breath shaking with each inhale of the cold night air. Swiftly, she reached into her wallet and pulled out a few bills before shoving them into Lin and Charlie’s hands.

“If either one of you tell anyone about what you saw in there, I’ll fucking end you both, okay?” Gen spoke sweetly, patting the back of Lin and Charlie’s hands before turning and walking away from the classroom.

Gen was going the fuck home. She didn’t care if anyone wanted to stick around and talk things out, she didn’t care if anyone was about to follow her. Gen doubted anyone really cared about her anyways, not after all the horrible things she had done came to light. So, instead of waiting for a friendly face to keep her company, she simply walked to her car and got in.

In the silent and private confines of her car, Gen slammed her hands against the steering wheel and let out a frustrated scream. Her forehead found the top of the steering wheel as her body stopped trying to keep composure. For the second time that night, Genevieve began to sob.

º º code by ditto º º

 

[geminiy]

Kian Phelan

@lockandkian has set their status to:
awkward music power hour

@lockandkian has set their outfit to:
clooth

@lockandkian has set their location to:
the music room

@lockandkian has mentioned:
Kelli

@lockandkian has interacted with:
Lucky & Javi

@lockandkian has tagged:
gh0stwriter hery

Okay, so no matter what either of the two guys in front of him said, Kian definitely had not just interrupted a ‘jam session’. Oh no, there was definitely something more going on that was more reminiscent of getting caught with their pants down rather than getting caught in the middle of an impromptu concert. Kian knew he wasn’t exactly the brightest looking fellow in the school but come on, there was no way they genuinely thought he was that stupid.

If Kian was anyone else, Lucky and Javier would have been bombarded with questions or suspicions or whatever the hell people did when they walked in on secretive situations. But, luckily for them, Kian really didn’t give a shit because he just wanted to get his shit and leave and that is precisely what Kian intended to do.

"You go out of your way to go to the Lock-in just to grab your guitar, or? Don't tell me you're all alone too, man. You're a loner just like this bozo."

Kian blinked a few times as he tried to process Javi’s words, blank expression settling on his face as his brain struggled to keep up. Javi’s face was all fuzzy and his lips were moving out of time with the words making reading his lips completely impossible. So, Kian just attempted to replay his words in his head and fill in the gaps himself.

“Yeah.” Kian blurted out unexpectedly, shaking his head at the sound of his own voice. “No, I mean. I drove my sister here but uh, lock-ins aren’t really my thing so I was just gonna, you know, hit the road and call it a night.”

Wow, Kian, way to be so super fucking cool.

“What are you playing?” Kian asked, sauntering over to the pair and looking down for sheet music or any indication of what they had been playing. There, of course, was not a damn thing which only furthered the fact that Kian really was starting to look like a bozo. “Freestyle. I like it.”

Once again, really nailing it home with the cool factor there, Mr Phelan. How could anyone resist the rockstar charm?

“Hey, uh, if you want something new to play, I’ve got this song I’ve been workin’ on.” No, Kian, they don’t want your song. They likely just want to get back to whatever they were doing before you ever so rudely interrupted them. “You said that you were in a band, yeah? You might be the sound I’ve been looking for to help me flesh it out. The song, I mean.”

Kian reached into his backpack and pulled out a rather tattered looking notebook, flopping it down onto the music stand in front of Lucky and Javi. Flipping to the pages that had the rather horribly drawn chords and lyrics of the song, he tapped the correct page a few times with his finger and pulled the guitar pick from the front pocket of the notebook.

“It’s kinda a rough draft right now but um…” Kian paused, looking between the boys as he picked his guitar up from his case. “Oh shit, sorry, I’m super rude right now I didn’t even introduce myself. I mean, I think I’ve talked to you both online but I don’t think we’ve met in person.” Stringing his guitar strap over his shoulder, Kian reached a hand out to Lucky and then to Javi. “Kian Phelan, at your service.”

Walking over to the amp behind where Javi and Lucky were situated, Kian plugged in his guitar and cranked the volume, a few opening strums filling the otherwise awkwardly quiet room with sound. Compressing the strings with his hands, he walked back over to the pair and looked down at the page in front of him.

“If you want, you can take over the bass part, Javi.” Kian spoke as he strummed at his guitar, playing a few chords from the chorus. “And, um, you can sing Lucky. I’m sure you’ve got a good voice. Being a tonedeaf singer would sorta defeat the point of being a musician.” With a loud strum on the guitar, Kian began playing the opening melody to the song. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

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[Winona]

Ashton West

She liked this.

She liked standing here in his apartment with his arms around her, and she liked hearing him say those words -- "I really like you, too" -- and she... just... felt content as she laid her head back against his chest and closed her eyes.

In the background, she could hear the ticking of the clock keeping up with the sound of his heart. She tried to slow her own rattled breathing to match the steadier rhythm of his, and that's just how they stayed. Like that, and Ash didn't want to move. She didn't want to let go and break this perfect little moment.

Following the events of the night, it was nice to finally feel... comfortable. Safe.

“It’s been nearly a month now,” he said, his voice breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" she responded as she lifted her head from his chest to look up and meet his gaze. He pulled his arms away from her, and her own arms dropped away from him as she took a tiny step back. There was still a cautious smile on her face as she studied his expression, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m still getting used to it. Us. Bein’ in a relationship. Bein’ a boyfriend. It’s not something I’m used to— or good at. Tonight was…heh, an outlier.”

Well she thought he was doing great -- like, sure, maybe they had a few... bumps or whatever, but it wasn't like those just labeled him as a bad boyfriend or something. It was just... all relationships had little bumps here and there, but it was like... the whole being there when she needed him that made someone, like, a good boyfriend. And that's exactly what he had done, and done like ten times better than anyone else could've.

His hand touched her chin, and Ash's heart gave a solid thud. He brushed a strand of hair over her ear, and her heart started to beat faster.

“But…if there’s anything that tonight told me, it’s that I like it— bein’ with you. An’ I think that it’s…worth all of this…effort, all of this trouble. I think you’re worth it.”

The cautious smile that had been on her face fell away to be replaced by a wide grin.

“I…really like you,” he said, and then he leaned down and his lips pressed against hers.

She was glad because, well, she didn't know what to say -- and yeah, she kind of liked kissing him.

Ash wrapped her arms around his neck, and kept kissing him before reluctantly breaking away.

For a moment, she just studied his face before she started to speak. "I..." her words trailed off, and she gave a little laugh, "I, like, a... month ago or... or whatever, if someone told me that I'd be dating you, I... I wouldn't have believed them," she started, and then kind of realized how that may have sounded, so she quickly started speaking again. "Not because, like... you, because like, I didn't think you'd ever want to, but I ummm..."

She pulled her arms from around his neck to lay her hands against his chest. "I'm just... I'm glad -- like, that I have you, and just... all of this."

Her hands dropped away from his chest and she took a couple steps back from him. There was a slight smile on her face, and then her teeth lightly bit into her bottom lip.

"So..." she said, "we've got your whole apartment to ourselves. Do you wanna just go to sleep, or...? Is there anything you want to do first?"

mood
.......

location
the classroom

outfit
idk a hoodie and jeans

playing...
Gasoline

by Alice Lee​

mentions
N/A

interactions
Trevor

tags
ditto

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[geminiy]

Elias Johannes

@elithegreat has set their status to:
tilly, dearest, its your mummy coming to save you dear

@elithegreat has set their outfit to:
splatter

@elithegreat has set their location to:
the parking lot

@elithegreat has mentioned:
Josie & Saint

@elithegreat has interacted with:
Tilly

@elithegreat has tagged:
natsukashii

Eli had done many strange things for his friends over the years, primarily things that left him red in the face and embarrassed for himself. But calling someone with a fake British grandma accent (the person he was calling, by the way, was not British herself) and pretending to be their mother (see: the aforementioned issue with the British accent) to save them from a horrendously awkward and likely mildly traumatizing episode of skinny dipping was by far the strangest.

Thankfully, Tilly was a smart girl and quickly caught on to what Eli was trying to pull. She was not, however, great at hiding the bubbling giggles that were about to give him away if she wasn’t careful. This was clearly a top secret rescue operative and certainly no laughing matter.

Oh who are we kidding? As soon as Eli hung up the phone, he himself burst into a fit of laughter that left tears pricking at the corner of his dark eyes. How could someone not laugh at British Mummy Elias?

It didn’t take long for Tilly’s face to appear in the back parking lot, head craning in an attempt to locate Eli in the crowd of cars. Logically, Eli could have simply gotten out of the car and walked over to Tilly himself but where was the fun in that? Instead, he undid his seatbelt and began to pick up his bag from the passenger’s seat of his car, all while honking his horn in an attempt to get Tilly’s attention.

“Hey…mom!”

Eli jumped at the voice beside his ear, head bumping directly into the roof of the car with a loud thud. He genuinely hadn’t expected Tilly to find him so quickly, so he had been taking his sweet time with his bag. Reaching a hand up to rub the now sore patch on the top of his head, a soft hiss of pain left his lips.

“You’ve hurt your poor mummy, Tilly dearest.” Eli groaned in his awful fake British mom accent. Carefully, Eli swung his car door open and hopped out with his backpack slung over his left shoulder. “Glad you caught on though. I was afraid my incredible accent was going to throw you off.”

Eli wrapped his arms around Tilly’s shoulders in a bear hug, straightening his back out slightly as he did so that Tilly was picked up off the ground by a few centimetres. Placing her back down gently, Eli reached up to adjust the fluffy pink hat that he had ever so slightly knocked out of place during his hug.

“I’m afraid if you didn’t bring your toothbrush, though, you’re out of luck.” Eli teased as he clicked the lock button on his car keys. “I’m only here to rescue you from skinny dipping, not poor oral hygiene.”

Nodding towards the school, Eli tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans as the pair made their way back towards the bustling building. The toe of his shoe found a rock on the ground that he gently kicked as he walked.

“So, it’s been a minute since we last hung out. How’ve you been?” Eli asked politely, a wide grin radiating across his face. “I mean, it hasn’t been long enough for you to suddenly be super into skinny dipping so I hope I wasn’t out of line trying to get you out of there. You looked real uncomfortable.”

Eli opened the back door to the school and ushered Tilly through, carefully using his foot to slow the close of the metal door to stop it from slamming behind them.

“I was just about to head out but if you don’t have any other plans, I am so down to hang. No sweat if you’re busy though.”

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