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

Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. LGTBQ
  3. Realistic
  4. Romance
  5. School
  6. Slice of Life
Characters
Here

Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Jace West


Well, if he was going to make something of himself and actually succeed in this life as a big, fancy musician as a huge middle finger to everyone that had fucked with him over the years, then he needed to actually work on his song. He needed it to be good and ready for the Arts Festival, and all he had were a couple of chords and a few lines of rather weak lyrics -- since, you know, his original song that he'd pitched to his mother had been shot down as being horrible.

That hadn't killed any of his muse whatsoever.

Jace stepped into one of the music rooms, but left the door slightly ajar. He pulled the strap of his messenger bag (not satchel) over his head and dropped the bag onto one of the tables. He flipped it open and started to rummage through it in search of his notebook. He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn't pay attention to anything behind him.

So when someone shoved him, the pathetic squeak Jace let out was more out of surprise than anything else. He spun around, his heart practically beating out of his chest, and his hands gripped the table as he fell against it -- and then his eyes locked onto the person that had come in and--

NONONONONONO.

FRICK HE WAS GONNA DIE.

He wanted to move, but he felt faint. His arms were shaking, his heart was palpitating, and he was fairly certain that if Mike didn't beat him to death, then Jace was going to have a heart attack and die.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Piss Kink,” Mike said. “What a fucking pleasure it is to bump into you again. Now, if you will— turn around and repeat what it was you said about me.” He cracked his knuckles, and Jace nearly fainted right there. “Before I make you,” he added, grinning widely.

His legs buckled underneath his weight and had it not been for him being leaned against the table, Jace would've dropped to the floor. Probably curled into the fetal position and cried while Mike beat him up, and called him mean things, and-- and-- and-- and-- he-- he--

He was going to pass out.

He could feel it coming now.

Was the world spinning or was it just him?

(SOS HELP.)

"S-said a-a-bout... you...?" his voice managed to squeak out, his voice cracking completely on the last word. What had he said? What had he said? He'd said-- he'd said--

Did he call him horny or something?

How could Mike be upset over that when it was true?

The guy would sleep with a scarecrow if it had a hole.

(That was the first thing that his scattered brain could think of, so don't judge.)

"I-I-I--" get it together, Jace, don't let the man see you crumble.

All he could manage was a "pfft."

And then he blinked.

God god god.

"I-I... I didn't," his voice cracked yet again, and he sounded oh so believable as he struggled to keep himself somewhat put together, as he struggled to not let his past fears of the dwarf man in front of him scare the absolute heck out of him.




mood
SOSHELP

location
music room

outfit
like just a sweater and jeans





playing...
pity party
by lovelytheband​



mentions
N/A

interactions
Mike

tags
Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

jasmichelle

f r e e b i r d



















josephine bennett



the wild card ~ 17 ~ junior












"I'm okay..." Jo said, her eyes meeting Saint's gaze. She couldn't help but wonder if when he looked at her...did he recall every memory, good and bad, the way that she did.

Josie had often been described as a girl whose mind was always going at a hundred miles per hour. Anyone who had said such a thing wasn't wrong because the gears were constantly spinning and ideas always flowing. Memories were was a funny thing for Jo's over-active brain though. It was one of the few things that seemed to slow down time for her. Transporting her back to the little moments in her life and allowing her to really soak up all the details whereas in the actual heat of the moment she might not have noticed things.

Kinda like when she got a whiff of fresh bananas and it reminded her of a day where she and her mother spent the day baking homemade banana bread. The day so vividly burned in her mind that just thinking about it she could almost hear Hollaback Girl blaring on the radio speakers as they danced around waiting for the timer to go off to indicate that the treats were done. They hadn't realized that the timer had gone off mid-song and by the time they took the bread out it was already partially burnt. Jo ate it anyway without even noticing that it had a hint of bitterness to it.

Yes, Jo was great at living life in the moment but sometimes she wished she could slow down those moments in real-time.

Times like now, as Saint's arm touched hers and sent waves of electricity through her. As his eyes studied hers and she felt almost as if he could see straight into her soul; as if he could see the real Josephine Bennett. Not just the carefree brunette with no worries about what life had in store. Not only the dancer who somehow stumbled her way into HA despite the probably obvious drug use. Not the girl who was cast aside by her birth mother or who is always the life of any party despite drinking way too much for her own good ninety percent of the time. It felt like he could see all of that and more; every part of her.

“Huh…it seems like we painted ourselves more than we did the canvases…but I can’t say I mind too much,” he said, and his face finally cracked into a brief smile as he chuckled, his thumb swiping at a bit of paint on the bridge of her nose. "Let it be known that I only surrendered for your sake, not mine," she replied with a smile that matched his. "Technically I threw the last balloon so that means that I wo-" she didn't even get to finished the sentence because his lips were pressed against hers before she could even process what was happening.

Once she registered that he was actually kissing her though, Josie didn't even second guess the situation. She didn't have to because there was nothing in her that wanted to protest against it. Instead, she went with it, her lips moving perfectly with his as things became more passionate and more familiar. The kiss was only broken for a short moment when she reached out and tugged at his shirt, pulling it over over his head and tossing it onto the tarp beneath them, her own following after.

As she was lifted up onto one of the desks behind them, her hand found itself tangled up into his dark curls and her lips quickly crashed into his again as if they were desperately craving the kiss. Regrets about this night might haunt her later, she didn't know really, but for once Josie's overactive brain wasn't flooded with a million different thoughts at once. There was only one thing on her mind and that was them. In this very moment, nothing else mattered to her but them.

Just like old times.

xxxxx
"Yeaaah, I totally understand Mrs. Washington. More fabric, less skin. I'll remember that for next time," Josie promised, as she exited the school counselor's office. She definitely wouldn't remember that for next time. Fifteen minutes after stepping foot in the building and Jo had already been pulled into the office for dress code. What was the big deal? So her top was kind of see-through...it was also very cute!

As soon as she rounded the corner, she peeled off the baggy t-shirt that had been provided to help her "cover-up" and tossed it on the ground, walking away from it without a second thought. It wasn't like she was sticking around long anyway. The brunette had already texted Maggie this morning and asked if she was down to ditch school so they could go dress shopping. In fact, the only reason she had come to school first was for the free breakfast. Don't judge! It was donut day after all!

Josie walked through the doors of the cafeteria and went straight for the line, wanting to get one of the really good ones before everyone else got there. Her favorites were the ones with the bright red, cherry-flavored icing and rainbow sprinkles on top though she would settle for the chocolate iced ones too. Glazed was okay but too boring for Jo's taste...buds. Ha.

After finally getting to the front of the line and plucking two donuts from the box, one for her and one for Mags, Josie found an empty table and plopped down. She hadn't really seen Maggie since her birthday so she was excited to hang out with her and see what trouble they could cause. Plus, there was so much to catch up on and if she could spill her guts to anyone, it was Mags for sure. Lucky would only lecture her if she told him about the lock-in thing and she didn't wanna hear it.

Look, Jo did a lot of questionable things and everyone knew it. Maybe hooking up with her ex-boyfriend (the same one that had cheated and deserted her two months ago, yes, she remembered) was one of those things but she just didn't care. Jo was too content right now to be pulled back down to earth and told her actions had been stupid or she'd made a mistake.

She totally didn't by the way, so shut up.











































♡coded by uxie♡
 
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Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






MICHAEL K. REID​


“S-said a-a-about…you…?” squeaked the boy with all of the social capacity of a toddler with a speech impediment, his voice cracking on the last word. “I-I-I— pfft.”

Pfft?” Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I…I didn’t,” West barely managed. His voice cracked again.

Hey, looked like West’s balls were finally dropping, huh? Awww, good for him.

Mike opened his mouth, gasping dramatically and putting a hand over his mouth. “Oh, shit, you didn’t?” he asked in mock disbelief, dropping his hand and putting it to his chest as his brows raised. “Well…” He dropped his hand, shaking his head and putting on his most pleasant smile. “Hey, looks like I’ve got the wrong whiny, pathetic bitch, then. Sorry ‘bout the misunderstanding— ya can’t really blame me. There are a lot of your breed, ya know: tiny bulge, tiny brain.” He shrugged casually. “Well, I guess that clears that up, huh?” He clapped a hand on West’s shoulder. “Have a nice day, will ya?”

Taking his hand off of West’s shoulder and giving a casual wave, Mike slowly turned towards the door. He put one foot in front of the other one, casually walking to the door at a leisurely, slow pace. He ran a hand through his curly, black hair, putting a hand on his hip.

And then he stopped abruptly, turned back around to West, and said, “You really think I’m stupid enough to buy that shit?”

In a rush, he went back up to West, grabbing his shirt in his fist and giving him a firm shake, his teeth clenched tightly. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. “Fucking say what you said,” he said, and then he gave him a firm jostle. “C’mon!” he barked.

Now, did Mike really give a shit what West said? Absolutely fucking not. In fact, he’d heard what he’d said. Mike wasn’t sensitive enough to be offended by fucking fifth grade insults. Plus, stupid and horny weren’t really that far off.

Well, Michael had straight As, but he’d accept stupid to make the little rat dog feel better.

Nah. He was just doing this because seeing the sniveling family disappointment nearly pissing himself over Mike’s general presence and insults that he was coming up with off the top of his head was fucking cathartic.

Or was it even just nearly that West was pissing himself? The little bitch probably needed to check his diaper and change the board in his bedroom from 4 days without an accident!!! back to 0.

Mike jostled him again, his face pulling into a pained, pouting expression. “Y-Y-Y-Y-You g-g-gonna piss youwself, T-T-Tit Suckew?” he mocked in a baby voice. “O-Oh n-no, did you no-not bwing an extra pa-paiw of jeans? Shiiiiiit!” A dark grin spread across his face, and his brows lowered.

He gave him another shake, then pulled him down closer, his voice low. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Tick-fucking-tock, Should’ve-Been-Swallowed. Your time’s wasting.”




mood
old habits die hard

location
a random music room

outfit
something casual





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​



mentions
n/a

interactions
take a fucking guess. he'll give you one word: incontinent. (he was going to say bitch, but there are too many options for that one, aren't there?)

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:




Did Luciana regret missing out on the lock-in? The answer was no, what could have been more important than having the chance on working on a set as a helper for the costume design team? Staying at a school and just mess around wasn't for sure the answer, the girl had her priorities straight, and she was not going to waste that opportunity for just a couple of laughs.

Okay, maybe she was thinking too highly of herself, after all, Genevieve was the one that helped her to get the job, but even if Luciana was the type of girl to wanted to do things on her own and achieve her own success, she for sure knew that in this world everything revolved around connections, even to the smallest job you needed someone to make you look good in this cases, I guess that's what networking was although in some cases they used it just for a fancy word instead of nepotism.

But being back in Hollywood Arts was for sure a different environment, more relaxed and less serious. It was for sure a more cheerful environment than the ones she was used to and still felt uneasy for her, not like she was antisocial or hated crowded places but sometimes the bubbly aura was too much for her.

The hallways were full of people gossiping about the famous lock-in, something childish if you asked her, but if they wanted to enjoy their time messing around after school hours, she would let them be, just for having fun you didn't achieve things, after all, everyone was competing to be successful on their own area and Luciana wasn't going to let herself to be held back just to do stupid things.

Yes, being at the top and being perfect was still rooted in her brain, after all those years of listening to her father saying how if she and her brothers just let their grades drop. Even if it was a point it was the meaning of them being failures, a pariah to society, an idiot, a useless person were things she was told by her beloved father. And it didn't help at all, but after all, she couldn't let herself show her weakness, not when she had a goal in mind.

But being back after leaving for work only meant one thing, catching up with all her studies because she was not going to let herself being compared to the people which were failing their classes, and in order to make it work she was going to need all the caffeine possible in her body, with two cups of iced coffee that she bought prior of her arrival. One for her and one for Genevieve hoping that she would find her on her way to the workshops, no one would have expected her to do something nice for someone but she could at least be thankful for the opportunity and Genevieve was also one of her friends.

When she arrived at her destiny she noticed the girl that she was looking for, great now she wouldn't have to waste time looking for her, she walked towards her and set the coffee in front of her "Listen, this only because I can't give you one of our Tequila bottles right now but when I have one I'll give it to you, so in the meantime this just a thank you for the helping get that job" she said as she took a seat "So, how was the lock-in? Something interesting happened?" She asked before noticing the aspect of Genevieve "Is everything okay? You don't look like your usual self"
Location: fashion workshop | Mood: let's get to business
Outift: Here | Interactions:
Luciana Navarro Berrocal


Code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Xed

Running Wild






Dalton Kirby



He never made it to the gym. Plans to punch the shit or in this case sand, out of a punching bag? Out the window for the moment. A certain pint-sized blonde caught him right outside one of the classrooms before that could happen.

“Hey…”

The greeting had been so meek he wouldn’t have realised it was directed at him if not for the fact that the hallway they were occupying was deserted.

And when he’d turned to look at the voice in annoyance, he found himself cocking an eyebrow when he realised just who it was who had disturbed him.

Who would have thought the day would come when he’d see the great Charlie Howell acting so damn tame? Just what on earth brought about this turn of events?

“What do you want Howell?”

She slapped some papers against his chest in response.

What the hell was this– oh.

The cocked brow turned into a full faced frown as he stared at the half-crumpled sheets.

How did she get her hands on this? Did he drop it earlier when he punched Slut?

Probably. Had she seen the grade? Was that why she was acting like a whimpering pup?

“I, uh, I think you dropped that. Sorry about the grade.” Charlie winced at her own words.

So she had seen it. Was that pity he was catching in her voice? Bad move, though at least she seemed to be aware of that given her wince.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less for the grade and wouldn’t if not for what it meant, and the notice Professor Bitch had served him right along with the test.

He certainly didn’t need the pity she seemed to be offering him though watching Howell squirm like this was amusing in its own way.

“Not that you’re stupid or anything, that wasn’t really my intention. I promise I wasn’t snooping, I just saw it and uh…”

Damn right he wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t give a damn about fucking stupid chemistry or the bitch who taught it.

Now where exactly was Thumbelina trying to go with this?

“you what?” He asked, voice edged with irritation. In case you didn’t know, the patience tank was dangerously low.

“Figured I’d return it to you. Your secret is safe with me.”

He cocked his eyebrow yet again as he looked down at Howell and damn she really was short as hell. This conversation was going to give him neckache.

Secret? Did she think this was something he wanted kept secret? That was funny. Look, he didn’t care if it got out, he’d dealt with shittier stuff. He would rather it didn’t but if anyone ever tried to use it to blackmail him or anything, or it did get out, well you wouldn’t catch him blink. Maybe snap back and make the person who thought it was a good idea to throw it out there regret it but that was it.

Though obviously blackmail wasn’t Howell’s game.

Dalton looked back down at the crumpled sheets of paper then back down at the tiny blonde.

He couldn’t help but wonder given the neck scratching and general sense of discomfort she gave off, just how she would react if she were to learn about what he had done to the two stooges at lock in, locking them up in a janitor’s closet where according to stooge one, they had fucked.

His nose curled up in disgust at the thought of the two of them fucking in that musty old closet with cleaning equipment for an audience. Disgusting and fitting. He had thought he couldn’t hate them anymore than he already did but after learning that? Let’s just say that letting Slater off the hook with just one punch to the face and a bloody nose felt too light of a response. He hadn’t locked them up in the same place to play matchmaker and have them hook-up, and the idea that he had a part to play in causing that abomination?

His eyes narrowed at the thought as he clenched the papers in his hand.

It was fucking revolting.

Dalton had nearly forgotten that Charlie was still standing next to him. Could you blame him though? She was just so short and being unusually docile and quiet. Normally she was so damn loud that you’d know she was there whether you wanted to or not. Must come with the territory of being tiny.

Which reminded him of his earlier train of thought. Would she think that he was going to make her stooge number 3 and toss her into a closet somewhere if she knew about the events of lock in?

Putting it to the test if only to see her reaction was an entertaining thought. It certainly wouldn’t be too difficult to actually carry out. She was small enough to heft over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes anyways if it came down to it. Though unlike stooge 1 and 2, Howell would probably have the intelligence not to piss him off to that extent. That and she was definitely more well liked than either of them were. The aftermath of doing something like locking her up would be troublesome to say the least and he didn’t need the twisted rumours that would no doubt follow.

Normally, if he really wanted to, he would just say fuck it and go through with whatever he had planned, to hell with the trouble any of her puny maddening friends would give him and shitty rumours.

Right now though? He had enough on his plate with fucking Professor Bitch and he wanted just one night, fuck one day even, where things just didn’t go to shit, and he didn’t have to deal with trouble. Fuck he missed Hawaii. Why’d he have to come back?

Forget it. He’d mess with her another day. For now, he had to deal with that damn test that was coming up. When the hell was it anyway?

What the fuck! Tuesday???

“Are you fucking kidding me.” He muttered angrily under his breath as he glared at his phone. “That fucking bitch.”

So he didn’t have a couple of days to study for it, he only had today.

One. Fucking. Day.

Bloody hell.

Damn he hated that woman.

Well there went his plans to hit the gym for a couple of hours. Library it was because there was no way in hell he was failing that damn test.

Dalton moved to leave and – was Howell seriously still standing there? What did she think she was at military camp or something? Class? What the hell was she waiting for? A dismissal?

Cue one serious eyeroll and an exasperated huff of breath.

“Whatever Howell feel free to run along now and pat yourself on the back or whatever for accomplishing a good deed.” His tone was far more derisive than it needed to be and he didn't bother to spare her a second glance as he slowly started to make his way down the hall, one hand shoved into the pocket of his pants, the other, stabbing at his phone screen as he muttered angrily under his breath.

“That bitch, giving me this fucking ultimatum one day before the test. She wants me to fail so I have to spend extra time with her on those stupid remedial lessons, doesn’t she? That damn psycho. Fuck.”





mood
seriously just go to hell

location
outside a classroom

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Beel, Slater

interactions
Charlie

tags
geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 

Xed

Running Wild






Mikaela Ainsley



Half the time she spent with Tori, the girl was usually nagging about something Mikaela had done, like drink a tad too much, stay out partying a little too late, living really. She was worse than her actual mom who had never gotten on her case the way Tori had, mostly because she was too busy with all the filming projects and such on her schedule, and also because before Mikaela had arrived at Hollywood Arts she had very much been one of those good kids who stayed between the lines and never strayed half a step from the direction she had been headed in. Of course now she didn’t have a direction any more and the lines? She could care less if she crossed them, smudged them, erased them, etcetera.

…Okay maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She cared a little, if only about the matter of her doing drugs, because if her family found out they would be heartbroken and then it would become a whole thing and the media would have a field day dancing over her carcass just as they had danced over the carcass of her late father.

And just how disappointed would he be if he could see her now? Whatever, she was not going to think about it. Nope. Go away thoughts, you aren’t welcome thank you very much. Now, where was she? Ah yes, in the middle of being nagged by one very judgy Victoria Sterling. From the way she went on and on about how Mikaela had gotten drunk you would think the girl had never had a sip of alcohol in her life, and yet she said she had, which come to think of it, she couldn’t ever remember seeing a glass of alcohol touch her lips.

…Well, she was probably too high or drunk at the time to remember anyway, because if there was alcohol in the room, some of it would have definitely ended up in her stomach. Drugs she couldn’t do in public for all the obvious reasons but a little bit of alcohol and partying? That she could easily explain away as having fun and enjoying herself.

“Why do you always get coffee when you literally hate it?” Tori asked as she sat an extra Coke on the table in front of her.

Mikaela grabbed it like a lifeline and took a good long sip once she opened it. Why did she get coffee indeed? Bitter and shitty as it was it seemed to be the only thing that helped with the headaches that often followed a night of drugs and drinking, unfortunately for her. Besides she did not need the headaches today what with her getting roped into Chas Marino and Alex’s film project.

She leaned back in her chair slightly and let out a content little sigh. Maybe she ought to try switching to Coke instead. It was certainly easier on the throat than the coffee. This was one thing that friends did. Help each other out. But there were no fixed definitions to friends and for now she didn’t care if she “made a total idiot of herself” as Tori said and none of her ‘friends’ stopped her so long as it didn’t made headlines or anything.

An amused smile danced across Mikaela’s face as she listened to Tori’s tale of her lock in night. Of her romantic reunion with the new hot boy on the block in his car and then the sips of alcohol she had helped herself to and her impeccable alcohol tolerance, completed with a kiss with a stranger.

“What did you two do?” She asked, still smiling as she leaned forward in her seat. “You can’t drop a titbit that juicy and not share any details. That’s mean. Did you two hook up in the backseat of his car?” She whispered, making sure to pull back quickly in case Tori decided to smack her for being silly or something.

Mikaela could have stopped her teasing there and then but…

“And not remembering a thing about what he looked like? Come on now you can’t expect me to believe that. Unless…you were drunk or he wasn’t particularly good looking? Oh and I hope you managed to recover Beth.” She teased, smiling playfully as she sipped on the Coke and studied her friend’s face.

“Next time you party or have a wild night you should bring me along Tori. Us girls should have a little fun together and you always seem to be having so much fun without me, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out. In fact, Maggie was talking about possibly hosting a party, we should go together if it happens. Let me in on a little Tori approved adventure hmm?”

Mikaela did stupid things when she was drunk or high as lock in had proved with the whole uprooting plants and locking out Cappie and Chanel, but at the moment she was neither and thanks to the coffee perfectly sober.

And when she was perfectly sober, she tended to put things together quicker and pick up on stuff she would otherwise miss, like how Tori seemed to be excluding all the juicy little specifics to her time at lock in, which meant that there was a little something more to be dug out and well…consider Mikaela very curious as to just what it was she believed her friend could be hiding.





mood
Come on Tori, I'm waiting :)

location
table in the hallway

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Chanel, Cappie, Maggie

interactions
Tori

tags
Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






saint andrew taylor


In case you missed it: Saint Taylor hooked up with Josephine Bennett on lock-in night.

As far as his commentary on the matter went, Saint would only say that it had happened. He’d give no clue as to whether he considered it to be a mistake or a good decision, because that would imply that he’d thought about it for any amount of time. He hadn’t; he cared neither this way or that way for Jo, and the hookup was just a thing that happened.

He would, however, admit that he’d enjoyed it.

He could hardly be blamed for that, for enjoying his time spent in the art classroom with his ex girlfriend— for enjoying all of that time with her in there. It’d just…been awhile. It wasn’t often that one got to take a trip down memory lane in such a way as that, and it was like, in that time with her, their past was both preserved and forgotten.

The bad parts were gone, and the good parts were right beneath their fingertips.

Saint very rarely had a “bad time” at any event. He was, at the most, indifferent towards goings-on. However, he’d say that the lock-in had gone better than just “good”.

He’d leave it at that, though.

When he thought about it— when he thought back on it— he got a pain in his chest. Then again, he always got that pain when he thought about Jo.

It never failed to arise.

He was still indifferent to her, though. He certainly cared nothing about her, and he’d all but forgotten everything that happened between them— including the night of the breakup.

Lock-in night…jogged his memory. That was all. He thought nothing of her outside of that.

No more than several times a day did she cross his mind, which was normal.

The week moved on at its normal, all-too-fast and all-to-slow pace. Saint worked on his cow, hung out with Jared, worked on his cow, did school work, got an eighty on an exam and an one-hundred on another, worked on his cow, smoked some weed, worked on his cow some more… Around Arts Fest, life wasn’t too eventful. Then again, for Saint Taylor, life was never too eventful. He busied himself with his work, and that was just about it.

It was now Monday, a few weeks before the Arts Fest, and Saint was right on track to finish his cow on time. After eating a breakfast of toast and jelly, as he always did, he drove to the school. He did the same thing as he always did on Monday mornings: made his way down the long hallway, walking slowly, and came to a stop in front of his first period class.

But…he felt like he’d forgotten some part of his routine.

And then it slowly dawned on him…

Damn it.

Looking around slowly, a stoic expression on his face, Saint spotted a girl approaching. He knew her name and her face: Adriane Holloway. They shared first period and the same grade, but he’d never said more than a couple of words to her. However, he was familiar about one fact about her, and he approached her.

“Hey, Adriane…sorry to bother you…,” he said in his slow way. “Would you happen to have any weed…?”




mood
weed

location
the school

outfit
flowers





playing...
god's plan (drake cover)
by our last night​



mentions
jo & jared

interactions
adriane

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 

Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






Victoria Sterling


If there was one thing that Tori prided herself on, it was that she could totally get anyone she wanted interested in what she was talking about. Yeah, and if you were thinking that was an overstatement, just look at what was happening right now: here Mikaela was, totally hanging onto her every word, sitting on the edge of her seat with a smile on her face. See, that was the effect of such cool, interesting people as herself. It wasn’t like Tori wanted to be the center of attention or anything, but she just knew that she could say the right things to get people to listen to her, which was definitely something that she could be proud of, right?

(Okay, so maybe Mikaela just wanted to tease her regardless of what she said and wasn’t particularly enraptured in whatever Tori was saying, but shh, no one else needed to know that, right? Plus, if Tori told herself that she was hanging onto every word instead of just looking for a way to antagonize her, it made things a lot easier to deal with.)

“What did you two do?” Mikaela asked, leaning forward in her chair.

Tori smiled coyly. “Didn’t I just say I wouldn’t tell?” she said in a singsong voice. “My lips are sealed, Mikky.”

“You can’t drop a tidbit that juicy and not share any details. That’s mean,” Mik said.

Tori rolled her eyes, picking up her can of Coke to take a sip of it. She shrugged, suppressing a giggle as she lowered the drink. “Sounds like a you problem more than a me issue.”

Mik leaned in further as if she were going to whisper something, and Tori inclined her ear towards her slightly. Tori could hear the teasing edge on Mik’s voice as she whispered, “Did you two hook up in the backseat of his car?”

“Hey!” Tori gasped, jabbing her elbow at her, but Mik seemed to anticipate it, because she pulled back too quickly. Tori glared over at her, her cheeks heating up, and she fought a smile again. “N—“ No, Tori was going to say, but then that’d destroy her whole narrative, so she changed it. “Not telling,” she said indignantly, crossing her arms.

“And not remembering a thing about what he looked like?” Mik continued. “Come on now you can’t expect me to believe that.”

“It’s true!” Tori said, moving one hand up to trace an x over her heart with a finger tip. “Swear it.”

“Unless…you were drunk and he wasn’t particularly good looking?” Mik teased, smiling.

“Ugh,” Tori groaned, rolling her eyes. Mik was really trying to get her to either a) take her story back, b) say that she was either drunk, or c) say that she’d made out with an ugly boy, which no. “I only had a little bit of alcohol, number one, and, number two…he was hot, but you know…generic.” She put hands up to the side of her head, just above her ears. “Hair about this long, dark. I don’t know what color eyes. I dunno, like…hot, but not memorable.” She dropped her hands to the table, shrugging, and she picked her fork back up. “Yeah, I legitimately do not remember what he looked like because he looked like every other hot guy and his brother, not because I was drunk,” she clarified.

And also totally not because it didn’t happen.

“Oh and I hope you managed to recover Beth,” Mik said.

Tori pursed her lips, sighing deeply and looking up to the ceiling. “Ugh, well.” She felt for her can, her hand entirely missing it the first few grabs before she ended up barely latching onto the side. She lifted it to her lips and tilted it up, then swallowed with an “ah”. “Didn’t find her lock-in night, if that’s what you’re asking. She can be such a little shit sometimes,” she scoffed. She looked over at Mikaela again. “I went out for literally…” Five minutes, she was going to say, but that was a big understatement. “Like, it couldn’t’ve been more than…an hour, two hours max. Could not have been three hours…probably.”

She had no sense of time— she had no idea how long she’d been out with Ezra.

She shook her head. “Anyway,” she sighed, “I told her before I left, like…’don’t run off and don’t do anything I’d be ashamed of or Mom and Dad would have my neck for’ or whatever, right? But apparently she can’t follow those instructions. I mean, it’s not like I looked everywhere for her when I came back in.” She had, but she wasn’t going to say that. “It’s just like…seriously, Beth? You’re running away and hiding from me? She’s such a little kid.” She took another sip from her soda and sat the can down. “But I’m her ride.” Tori smirked proudly. “Which means that she had to come to me when it was time to leave, and you’d best believe that I told her what she needed to hear.” She gave a casual shrug and a dismissive “psh”. “It’s not like I would’ve hung around her all night like some kind of…helicopter mom had I found her or anything, regardless.” Yes, she would have. “Lock-in was kinda just a let loose night for me, too, as you put it. Just wish I would’ve found the little brat, you know?”

She sighed out through her nose and dug into her next waffle.

“Next time you party or have a wild night you should bring me along Tori,” Mik said as Tori took a bite of the waffle. “Us girls should have a little fun together and you always seem to be having so much fun without me, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing out.”

“Ya think?” Tori said lightly.

A “wild night” with Mik would literally be a wild night, and, uhm…yeah, no, Tori’d never so much as sipped alcohol, touched a blunt, swallowed any strange pills, or sucked random shit up her nasal cavity. N-o thank you.

So what if she thought about it once or twice? Thinking wasn’t doing.

Was she…scared to do it? Absolutely.

N-Not. Absolutely not. She was sure that she could handle anything that she did pretty well, but it was just that…she had, uh…better things to do than try that kind of stuff and do those kinds of things.

“In fact, Maggie was talking about possibly hosting a party,” Mik continued. “We should go together if it happens. Let me in on a little Tori approved adventure hmm?”

Tori blinked at her, and then she laughed slightly. “You…think?” she asked. She shook her head, giving another “psh”. “Yuh-no, I think that I’ll be busy that day.” She shrugged. “Rain check on that?” she half-kidded.

She ran a hand through her blonde hair. “Tori-approved adventures are adventures for one,” she said, smiling proudly. She tapped at the air in front of Mikaela. “And they don’t involve hard drugs or uprooting plants.”

They involve long nights in front of the computer screen, reading online self-insert romance fanfiction.

But…well.

Okay, so Tori would be lying (which she wasn’t above, obviously) if she said that she wasn’t the slightest, eentsie, itsy-bitsy bit…okay, curious, fine. About what Mik did, about how it all felt. Just— just!— just for the knowledge, you know. Not that she’d even consider doing that kind of stuff—

Or…

Okay, she wouldn’t seriously consider that kind of stuff. She’d, like…think of it for three seconds max. That was it.

Trying to be casual and still appear indignant and disapproving towards the whole thing, Tori slowly shifted forward in her seat, setting her posture tall and taking another bite of her waffle. She looked over at Mikaela again, and she cleared her throat. “Besides…,” she started, “what even is the appeal of drugs? And getting drunk and acting like that? Like…is it even fun?”




mood
talking

location
a table in the hallway

outfit
white & grey





playing...
be nice to me
by the front bottoms​



mentions
ezra & beth

interactions
mikaela

tags
Xed Xed


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Last edited:

Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Elizabeth Sterling


Beth had to admit that the lock-in had actually been enjoyable. Hotter Gray? Actually kind of fun, albeit a bit too... relaxed? Polite? She couldn't quite put her fingers on the word in question, but she knew what she meant -- she knew the feeling that she got from him.

It was simple, really, though. The poor boy needed to learn how to let go, but he was wound tight. Not in a prissy, "I'm going to lose it" type of way, but more in a... well, he kind of reminded her of Tori in a way. A cooler Tori, but a Tori nonetheless. He wasn't fun. He had the energy of a middle-aged soccer mom, and that just wasn't something that Beth was a particular fan, but alas, Beth was nothing if not generous.

So she'd agreed to show him around LA one of these weekends. She was kind of hoping that, by time they hung out, he would've relaxed a bit. Perhaps the Tori energy was just due to being in a new city at a new school, and he'd relax more once he'd gotten comfortable here.

Either way, her lock-in had ended with being chewed out by Tori. Uncalled for, really, because like, they were at school. What kind of trouble could Beth really get into there? And plus, it wasn't as if she'd promised to spend any time with her sister. Tori had just overreacted, per usual.

Anyway, it had been, like, a week or so since the lock-in and somehow? Today, she was helping to be a tour guide.

She wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten dragged into this, but alas. Here she was. Agreeing to help Kelli show around Bella, a new sophomore girl. Beth had never exactly played tour guide, but she could remember getting lost quite a few times when she first arrived at the school the previous year, and that was with the assistance of Tori to show her around.

If rainbows, unicorns, and puppies could be combined into a human being, the human representation of that would be Kelli Phelan. The girl just seemed to boast happiness and rainbows, sunshine and cotton candy, and Beth wanted to nearly scratch her head in complete amazement at how Kelli could keep up the cute little girl act.

(Ignoring the fact that they were in the same grade, of course.)

Kelli, being her little overly soft self, of course had to compliment Bella and then turn the compliment onto Beth. The girl gave a soft smile. "Thank you, Kelli," she said, "you look beautiful today, too."

She did -- Beth wasn't just returning the compliment.

“Are we all ready to begin the great Kellibethla tour?” Kelli asked, and Beth rolled her eyes at the name.

“Kellibethla,” Bella echoed with a soft smile, “an interesting name for sure. But yes, I am ready.” It was then that Bella seemed to remember Beth, and the fact that they hadn't had a formal introduction (the only reason Beth knew the other girl's name was because she liked to keep up with any newcomers to the lit department). “Bonjour, you must be Beth. It is a pleasure to meet you! Thank you, both, for helping me out. Hollywood Arts is… well, let us just say that there has not yet been a day where I have not gotten lost.”

"Pleasure's all mine, Bella," Beth responded with a smile as she reached out and shook her hand in greeting. "You're in the literature department, right? I believe I've seen you in a class or two." Not that Beth could exactly remember, but the brunette's face did seem a touch familiar.

Plus, two literature sophomores? Bound to have classes together.

"Let's get started," she said with a tilt of her head as she started walking down the hallway. "There's a lot to see, very little time."




mood
happy, i guess

location
in front of some lockers

outfit
just imagine something cute, man





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



mentions
N/A

interactions
Kelli, Bella

tags
geminiy geminiy Ditto Ditto


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Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






kellian phelan


Kelli smiled brightly, reaching to feel of her charm bracelet as Bella commented on it. “Like it? I love it! It’s so thoughtful of you!” she said happily. “It’s gotta be one of the dopest gifts I’ve gotten— thanks again.” At Bella’s assessment of her ID photo, she shook her head, flopping her wrist dismissively. “Psh, your nose doesn’t look big in that. You look great! I don’t think you’re able to look bad. You seem like one’a those kinda girls— rockin’ everything!” She held up a rock-on! hand, and she giggled a moment.

And then she realized…

Calm down, Kelli— you’re being too…weird.

Kelli’s laughter faded, and she self-consciously looked down at the ground. She ran her hand along the charm bracelet, trying to use the bumpy surface as a means to dismiss that thought. Bella was her friend, and Beth seemed to like her well enough. There wasn’t any need to be…thinking like that, thinking of what they were thinking. She rubbed her lips together, suddenly feeling very awkward.

You’re just nervous because they’re two pretty, nice girls. You’re not being weird, she tried to tell herself, moving her hands to grip her backpack straps.

“Let’s get started,” Beth said, and Kelli snapped out of her own little world, blinking a few times and looking over at the redhead. “There’s a lot to see, very little time.”

Kelli made herself smile, giving a nod. “Yep, yep, yep!” she agreed, and she looked to Bella. “Let’s go Sophomore S…” She quickly tried to think of a word to make some clever kind of alliterative phrase there, but her brain wasn’t fast enough. “Uhh…Sophomore Team?” she suggested, starting to walk. “Beth…Bella…Kellli…Behhh…Bethbellian…? No, no…the Three Team…Triple…the Sophomore…Girl Gaggle?” She cocked her head this way and that, her voice getting quieter the longer she thought aloud, and then she shook her head, snickering. “Uhm, I’m not good at names,” she concluded.

She looked over at Bella, giving her a small smile. “Okay, sooo…I think we’ll start wiiith..." She came to a stop at the start of another hallway, and she looked to her left and then forward, to her left and then forward, and then smiled over at Beth. “This hall sound good?” she asked.

Kelli really wasn’t good at being a leader.

With a nod, she started to walk down that hallway, and she pointed to a room to the left. “That room…!” Kelli started, and then she realized as her feet came to a stop that she didn’t know what that room was. She put a hand on her chin, tapping and cocking her head at the sign on the door. She squinted, walking up to it to assess it.

It was just a pencil, so it gave her no clues as to what was inside.

Drat.

She turned back around to her companions. “Uh…I thiiiink this room is for…math or something…?” she said unsurely. “Looks like a math room, right? Has, uh, math room vibes?”




mood
at tour service

location
in front of some random (math?) classroom

outfit
casual





playing...
apple pie
by the scary jokes​



mentions
n/a

interactions
bella & beth

tags
geminiy geminiy Winona Winona


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Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Nathan Woods


Praise the fucking lords, because Evie gave Nate an out to actually having to continue dancing with Oates.

Well, praise her horny best friend and Gen's tendency to make some of the worst decisions known to this school. Sleeping with Landon? Easily one of the worst offenses that Gen could've done (save for maybe sleeping with Nate, except Nate would never do that... now), and Nate of course had to be the good boyfriend.

He had to show up. He had to comfort her.

Nate wasn't... good at comforting people.

He'd offered her a joint and she'd accepted that, though.

So he'd excused himself from Oates and Nate, who'd been sober up until this point, headed to the roof to meet up with Evie, his half a joint and lighter burning in his pocket.

And now this narrative could be long-winded, filled with needless details about their time on the roof, except this was Nate's narrative and Nate was never long-winded or needlessly detailed about anything.

So he did his best to comfort her (and ignore the texts that kept coming because apparently he was super fucking popular tonight and fuck everyone that wouldn't leave him alone) and listen to her bitch about Gen and Landon, and he'd shared his half a joint with her.

He was definitely nailing this whole boyfriend thing.

Even if he kind of hated sitting here listening to her complain, but hey. Nate understood that dating wasn't all hookups and sunshine, and that it was a bit of a tradeoff. He'd be there by her side now, listening as she vented, and she'd by his side to return the thought if it was ever needed.

And she had been there after the whole Chas ordeal, so he did owe her that.

Anyway, it was a nice ending to the night -- well, minus the bitching. The whole Gen and Landon situation.

But the weed and sex were great.

-----------------​

It had been about two weeks since the lock-in, and Nate was honestly surprised that Evie had yet to talk to Gen or Landon. Sure, both of them had tried to get a hold of him to try and get through to Evie, and Nate fucking hated being a middle man in this dumb drama, but...

He'd done his best.

Now, he was apparently a chauffeur. As in, he'd gone to pick Evie up. As in, he'd had to get up earlier than planned to get dressed and shit so he could get her -- and he'd been spending so much time finishing up his Arts Festival project that the lack of sleep? Really gonna fucking affect him today.

But it was fine, because he was now sitting in the parking lot with his hot as fuck girlfriend, with his driver's seat window rolled down.

What? You didn't really think he was gonna go into the school without smoking first.

As Nate exhaled smoke from his lungs, he realized that the air inside of the car? Quiet as fuck, and he felt like he needed to say some shit to try and fill the air. Try and fill the void, but the whole talking thing had never been something that Nate was particularly good at, and he could feel his brain kind of short-circuiting as he tried.

He held the joint out towards her in case she wanted a hit.

"Weed?"

Damn, he was good at conversation.




mood
weed? check. girlfriend? check. mood? content.

location
parking lot

outfit
omg clothes





playing...
Ho Hey
by The Lumineers​



mentions
N/A

interactions
Evie

tags
jasmichelle jasmichelle


º º code by ditto º º
 

Xed

Running Wild






Mikaela Ainsley



Tori was one tight lipped customer.

Just when Mikaela thought she might be able to pry something out of her, the girl's mouth clammed shut and gave her no more than it did the first time. Boo.

There went any chance of hearing about any spicy hook-up details and the little secrets she felt were being hidden from her. At least Tori was giving her a little more with the story of the stranger she kissed, though all she got out of that was that he was hot and generic, which really, if you were going to indulge in a kiss with a stranger you really ought to be going with someone sexy hot and memorable not completely forgettable and basic in terms of hotness.

You know, sexy hot like, the hot new guy on campus whom Tori had been in a car with for close to three hours before leaving him to search for Beth. Well, that was more assumption on Mikaela’s part that new boy was sexy hot since she hadn’t actually met him, or if she had, well, it hadn’t registered.

And then of course, Tori had after that tiny bit of fun, decided to play mother hen and go hunting for Beth, the poor girl. Good on her though for evading her older sister the whole night. You’d never catch her saying this around Tori because her ear would get nagged off, but job well done little Sterling.

Hopefully for the young girl, she had enough fun to make the nagging she no doubt received well worth it. Then again Mikaela supposed that any amount of time away from the watchful eye of Tori would be well worth it for Beth, because contrary to what Tori was telling her, she most definitely would have hung around her little sister like a helicopter mom, or worse. Of that much Mikaela was certain.

She helped herself to another forkful of eggs, chewing thoughtfully on them as she digested the rest of Tori’s words.

Already booked? She smiled slyly as she swallowed.

“You know I never mentioned what day the party might take place, yet you already know you’re busy that day?” Mikaela paused for a moment to let the words sink in and to help herself to another sip of Coke. “Are you trying to avoid partying with me Tor? I’m hurt.” She feigned a look of anguish as she pressed a hand to her heart.

Tori-approved adventures are adventures for one,” Tori said, smiling proudly. She tapped at the air in front of Mikaela. “And they don’t involve hard drugs or uprooting plants.”

“Hey! The plants was a one-time thing.” Mikaela shook her head and pouted, but a smile soon seeped through as she looked at her friend. “Besides what fun is there in one person adventures? In my experience, they’re always more fun with others.”

That wasn’t entirely true, she was usually too high, too drunk on the adrenaline and just trying to lose herself in the activity to care who was with her. Her only focus in those moments was to just numb out everything and anything, to forget, to not think. Empty her brain.

Mikaela took a break to finish up the last bit of her order of scrambled eggs.

Sometimes with all the secret keeping, she had a tendency to forget who knew what about her and how much. Tori, for one reason or another that she couldn’t recall, was one of the few people who knew of her drug usage, and maybe the only one who wasn’t an active user.

Well, as far as she knew and could tell, Tori wouldn’t blab about it to anyone else, most importantly not her family, and that was the most important thing.

As Mikaela downed the Coke, Tori threw a question of her own back at her.

“Besides…, what even is the appeal of drugs? And getting drunk and acting like that? Like is it even fun?”

Ahah! So she was interested in some capacity, why else would she ask such a question?

Mikaela smiled coyly, dangling her fork lazily from her finger tips, playfully drawing lines in the air with it.

“What’s the appeal you ask? I mean I could just tell you…but I’m a little…distracted and sad.”

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips and she pouted.

“You spent what, three hours all alone in a car with Hottie Gray and I don’t get even a single detail.” Well, it wasn’t like she really wanted to know the whole nine yards and every second of what went down. Why then was she bringing this up?

Mikaela simply just couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Tori. The way she always made herself seem so well put together, it was fun to fluster her and make her jump, give her a little shake if you would.

Since you don’t want to share them, then I’ll just let my imagination do the work. Let’s see,” She pressed a thoughtful finger to her cheek and looked up at the ceiling, “it starts with an exchange of the years apart, and then a reminiscence of the time you shared together, a dash of mourning for the time lost,” she kept one eye on her friend so she could try and avoid any more sudden attacks Tori might throw her way to stop her from talking.

“you stare into each other’s eyes, unable to look away, and then you find yourselves drawn closer, and closer by an invisible magnetic force until your lips meet in an explosion of fireworks and the two of you find yourselves in a steamy embrace, unable to let go for fear of– ok, ok” Mikaela chuckled, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop there,” she said before adding cheekily, “for now.”

Perhaps she had taken the teasing a tad too far with the added actions, the over the top expressions and the lilting tone of her voice, but well, she simply couldn’t resist.

Now before Tori decided to strangle her on the charge of excessive teasing, she probably ought to get back to addressing her question about the appeal of running wild.

“Anyway as I was saying earlier, I could just tell you all about the appeal of doing all those things and how fun they can be, but it’s better to experience it yourself. Simply hearing about it from others just isn’t the same. If you won’t let me join on a Tori approved adventure, then we can just do a Mikaela approved one instead, then you can judge for yourself just what the appeal of .”

Why was she so insistent on trying to get Tori to hop onto the wild life train? Honestly, Mikaela just wanted an excuse to run wild, the lack of excuses wasn’t going to stop her, the only things that could were already gone, but having an excuse helped ease that twinge of guilt she felt every time she went out of control.

Was her attempt to drag her friend into doing drugs and alcohol, leading her into the same shitty life she was currently living so she could ease her guilt towards her family a rotten move? Without question. But Mikaela had reached the point where she was past caring. She didn't have it in her to, not when she was barely being held together by a rag tag combination of scotch tape (alcohol) and glue (drugs).





mood
Let's go a little wild

location
table in the hallway

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Ezra, Beth

interactions
Tori

tags
Ditto Ditto


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Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Zeph Evermore


Good. Just... good.

For some people, good may have been enough. Good but rough in a couple areas would've been plenty for them, but for Zeph? Well... for him, it wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to enough. He needed splendid, amazing, gorgeous -- perfect. Zeph needed this to be perfect, and he would settle for nothing less. Anyone that even kind of knew the kid wouldn't be surprised by this fact. The whole working himself to near death was nothing new.

He was still mulling over Spencer's words when Maeve spoke up.

"I'm sure we can pull it off if we can continue practicing, but it wouldn't be a good idea to try and modify that part of the choreography just in case? Maybe we are closing ourselves to that specific move and we are just stressing out over too much and we could solve it with just a modification? I know it's crazy to be changing things at this point but it wouldn't be good to at least give it a try."

He blinked at her, his mind racing over the moves for a moment as he tried to figure out which one she was talking about it, and then it hit him. It was the... was it the one that she was struggling with? Of course Zeph knew of her injury, but it hadn't... he hadn't thought about how hard some moves might be for her.

His annoyance and frustration from just a minute before seemed to dissipate without much hesitation. He knew... he knew that in a duet, you had to try and showcase both person's strengths. Zeph also knew that duets? Kind of more difficult than a group dance, because there were only two people for the focus to be on. Which meant that both of them had to look good. They had to be flawless, because if either of them were anything but? It would turn out horribly.

"Okay, okay, yeah, yeah, yeah," Zeph said. He started to pace, one hand still resting on his hip while his other hand came up to rub at his nose. He was thinking, the wheels turning in his head. He was running the dance over in his head again, and one could probably easy tell that from the way his lips were moving, his hand tapping in the air, as he spun and stepped from place to place while he thought over it.

Yeah, he had nothing.

"If we swapped it out for something else," he started, his words slow as he tried to think while speaking, and then he gave a defeated, heavy sigh. "There's nothing we could really... switch it for without having to change the lead up, and then the after stuff, and..."

Without having to change the entire dance.

He brought his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his mind running a mile a minute, before he dropped his hand back to his side. His lips were tugged down into a frustrated frown, eyebrows drawn together to join the look. "We'd have to redo half the dance and we've only got two weeks left." He snapped.

He was trying to keep cool, he really was, but the time crunch was starting to weigh heavily on him.




mood
not good enough

location
one of those practice dance rooms

outfit
probably something casual because ya know, he's dancing





playing...
We Like It
by Computer Games​



mentions
N/A

interactions
Maeve, Spencer

tags
Xed Xed Stardust Galaxy Stardust Galaxy


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gh0stwriter

Junior Member






Lucky DuBois




Life was funny.

In a dark, twisted, completely unhumorous kind of way. It lulled him into a false sense of security and when he felt stable--safe...it hit him with a semi-truck.

It was nothing new, yet, he fell for it every fucking time. And it was getting old. It was getting tired. He was fucking exhausted.

Here’s the thing. Lock-in was relatively unproblematic. And before you say anything, no one and I mean NO ONE was more surprised than Lucky DuBois himself.

Hell. Lock-in went great. He had a band. A second showing at the Arts Festival. Sure, zero details were ironed out. They didn't have a name. But they had a song. And it was good. Really fucking good. Kian and Javi were surprisingly talented. Javi moreso than Kian. Yeah, he couldn’t write a song to save his life but he knew how to play. And that’s all that mattered.

Kian. Kian was the exact opposite of him. Cheerful. Positive outlook on life. It was fucking annoying, but his musical talent made up for it. It rivaled his own passion and the other boy didn’t mind the constant obsession with how they could make the song better and the different avenues they could explore. Look, they had a long way to go, but this was exactly what Lucky had wanted when coming to Hollywood Arts. He wanted to do something great. Something epic. And this band. This band was the ticket. He knew it was.

The Arts Festival had become the ultimate distraction. He didn’t need drugs or alcohol. He had music. And any moment he wasn’t at school or working with the band, he was with Ash. Rehearsals were going great. She had been just as passionate and determined to succeed as he had been. Her motivations were different, but the result was the same. He felt connected to her in a purely platonic way. And with Mags being distant and his need to avoid Josie as much as possible, she’d become one of his closest friends.

Not to mention, Lucky had his first open mic night. Portillo’s Coffee House. It was decently packed. Josie, Mags and Dorian were in attendance, but, to his surprise, Ash, Amy, Javi and Kian all showed up to show support. It was weird. Having people in your life that showed up. Something that he didn’t expect...or particularly like. When people start showing up, you could become dependent. Become dependent, you risk getting disappointed. He couldn’t handle anymore disappointment.

But it went great. Amazing. They even asked him to come back for a longer set. His dreams were coming to fruition and it felt...right. He’d deserved it. After all the shit, this was his reward.

That was week one after Lock-In.

But as we know from earlier, happiness doesn’t last. Not in Lucky’s life. He’d gotten the call from his aunt that his dad’s ashes had been delivered. She didn’t want Lennon to find them, so it was up to him to intercept. And now they were sitting in his closet, taunting him. Reminding him of all the past pain he’d gone through. Reminding him of every thing he’d been trying so hard to forget...to make disappear. How can you reinvent yourself when you’re constantly having your past shoved in your face.

He hated it.

He fucking hated it.

He’d tossed the ashes in the trash a couple times. Then, after laying in bed staring at the ceiling determined not to think about him, but ONLY thinking about him, he’d relent. Take the ashes out of the trash and shove them in the deepest corner of his closet. The irony wasn’t lost on him. It never was. But the happy, fun, music fueled week had disappeared. His hope of moving on? Dashed.

He’d been good. He hadn’t fought anyone. He hadn’t fucked anyone inappropriate-- he hadn’t fucked anyone at all for two weeks. And he--was getting restless. Not that he used sex as a coping mechanism, but he used sex as a coping mechanism-- he just would never admit that. The drugs and alcohol helped, but he needed to be relatively sober for rehearsals. But the music...just didn’t seem to be enough of a distraction anymore.

His mind on the joint currently rolling around in his backpack. Rehearse with Ash. Head up to the roof for weed and lock-in vodka. That was his plan for today. As far as he knew, he had no plans. And even if he did, it wasn’t like anyone would miss him.

He sighed as he approached the school. A cup in each hand. A delicious, large cup of black coffee in his right with two sugars and a disgustingly sweet hot chocolate with zero caffeine benefits in his left. Ash had surprised him with coffee one day and it turned into a sort of routine. Each of them trading off.

A small smile formed as he saw the familiar blonde up ahead. His pace quickened as he noticed the familiar mop of hair next to her. This should be…interesting.

“By the way,” he started, trying to clear that tension away, tone light in a forced way, “how is that going?” He looked over at her, smiling. “Your Festival project, I mean.”


“It’s going amazingly well…” he made his way in between the two “…that’s so sweet of you to ask, Trev.” He said as he looked over at Ash. “Good morning.” He said with a genuine smile. “Extra chocolate hot chocolate for you.” He said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held out her beverage. “Normal, super caffeinated coffee for me.” He gave her a slight smirk.

“I’m exhausted.” He glanced at Trevor. “This girl has been working me to the bone.” He said jokingly a smug look on his face as he eyed Trevor.





mood
In need of caffeinelocation
somewhere in the school

outfit
clothes duh





playing...
Figure Me Out

by The Summer Set​




mentions
Amy, Josie, Javi, Kian, Ash

interactions
Ash and Trevortags
Winona Winona Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Adriane Holloway


The lock-in had been... a bit of a disgrace. A disappointment. Yet another boring mark in her final year of high school that Adriane would look back on in the future and be forced to stifle a yawn. Oh, yay, she'd been involved in a boring trip to stealing information from the principal's office.

What grand fun.

(All sarcasm intended right there.)

Plus Chas being his clumsy, ridiculous self had managed to get them caught by Evelyn Sinclaire, so really... she was marking away lock-in night as just another waste of time.

But it was another day, another dime or whatever the saying happened to be, and Adriane was already fed up with the day -- but that seemed to be her feeling most of the time these days. Adriane was just... ready for her senior year of high school to be over, and it was something that was always picking at the back of her brain. That this was the last year before they could finally graduate. She knew a good amount of her classmates were starting to feel nostalgic, or bittersweet feelings about the ever approaching end of the year. About experiencing these things for the last time.

Adriane, though?

She couldn't wait. Adriane was beyond ready for the end to year so that she could just move on with the next step in her life. It was like her school years were always just a build up to her life actually beginning. Setting the stage or whatever, and she didn't feel as if the actual living would start until she was free.

So graduation? Please hurry up.

Adriane had just exited one of her classes when a not at all familiar voice called her name. She paused, turning her head to find the source of the voice, her expression blank as usual.

Ah, Saint.

“Hey, Adriane…sorry to bother you…,” he said. “Would you happen to have any weed…?”

Normally, Adriane's response would've been a "no" and then she would've carried on her way, despite knowing that there was definitely a joint waiting for her in her locker -- one that she didn't typically share with others. Because like, eww sharing joints was basically like sharing germs, and that was just gross (and yes, this was a bit hypocritical given the fact that she slept with damn near anyone that wanted to), but also because like... why should she share her weed with someone else? She'd bought it for herself, not someone else.

Her icy blue eyes scanned Saint up and down while she mulled over a response, and then her lips tugged downwards into a slight frown.

Well, it could be worse. At least he was hot.

"Yeah," she said with a breathy sigh. Adriane gave a tilt of her head as a gesture for Saint to follow her, and then started down the hallway towards her locker. "I guess I can share with you, but you owe me."

Adri took her weed very seriously, even if she rarely smoked.

Once they got to her locker, she input the combination and popped it open. She gave a quick glance around to make sure that no one was watching (or, at least, not teachers), and slipped the joint out of her backpack. With a heavy sigh, she slipped it to Saint before readjusting her backpack and then closing her locker door.

"You're sharing it, though." She said, her tone -- although monotone -- not leaving any room for argument.




mood
ugh

location
a hallway, duh

outfit
something hot, stylish, and probably barely school appropriate





playing...
Fuck You
by Lily Allen​



mentions
Chas, Evie

interactions
Saint

tags
Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Jace West


With the threat of Mike beating him up hanging over his head, Jace truly felt like he was going to pass out. But then Mike turning around, saying things about have a nice day or whatever, and Jace's head started to pound in response because it didn't make sense, and he--

He--

Where was the--

The pow pow of his fists against Jace's face, or the shoving and shaking of Jace by his shirt, or whatever else the demon sent from hell to make his life miserable might view as necesary.

Where was all of that?

He didn't relax one bit as Mike turned around, because Jace was waiting for the "lol jk" that he knew was undoubtedly coming for him. Mike wasn't the kind of guy to give in like that, and Jace knew that, but the not knowing when he was going to flip and turn back around was making Jace's anxiety run out of control. He hated the not knowing -- he just wanted the conclusion to already be here, so his heart would stop pattering away in his chest, and his breathing could return to normal, and he could continue his day without the sickening anxiety.

And then it happened.

“You really think I’m stupid enough to buy that shit?”

LET THE RECORDS SHOW HE NEVER SAID HE WAS STUPID.

And then Mike was back across the room and grabbed Jace by the front of his shirt, and Jace let out a super manly squeak. Not like the scream he'd let out at the lock-in, because he couldn't muster enough strength to be that loud, but just a quiet little peep as he tried to keep himself from passing out.

“Fucking say what you said,” he said, and then he gave him a firm jostle. “C’mon!” he barked.

"Stop!" Jace squealed as he tried to pull away from Mike, but it was useless. He was in Mike's clutches, like a stuffed toy being shaken to death in the jaws of a dog.

“Y-Y-Y-Y-You g-g-gonna piss youwself, T-T-Tit Suckew?” he mocked in a baby voice. “O-Oh n-no, did you no-not bwing an extra pa-paiw of jeans? Shiiiiiit!”

Hurtful and unnecessary.

He gave him another shake, then pulled him down closer, his voice low. “Answer me,” he demanded. “Tick-fucking-tock, Should’ve-Been-Swallowed. Your time’s wasting.”

Jace wasn't sure if tears were streaming down his cheeks, but he didn't think they were, but also felt like he might start sobbing, but also he probably wasn't going to because staring up into Mike's murderous eyes kind of just made any kind of reaction from Jace? Not able to happen. All he could do was breathe and hang there, limply held up by his own shaking legs (which he could hardly feel) and Mike's fists balled up in his shirt.

"I- I- I don't..."

His breathing was coming in short, rapid bursts. He could barely hold it together. His thoughts were trying to remember what he'd said about Mike, but his head had just thrust into run, run, run mode, but there was nowhere to freaking run, so he was just panicking, panicking and unable to move.

"I don't... I don't k-k-know!" he whimpered, "I-I can't... c-can't remem-remember."

And that was the truth, not just some kind of cheap way out. Jace couldn't remember.

"Wh-what d-d-do," god he wasn't even sure what he was trying to say, but he needed to finish trying to power through it, "w-want? Wh-what do you... wa-want?"




mood
SOSHELP

location
music room

outfit
like just a sweater and jeans





playing...
pity party
by lovelytheband​



mentions
N/A

interactions
Mike

tags
Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






Victoria Sterling


“You know I never mentioned what day the party might take place, yet you already know you’re busy that day?” Mikaela said, sipping her Coke.

“Haha…,” Tori laughed dismissively, and then she blinked rapidly a couple of times.

Oh shit, she did just do that.

She gave a shrug, shaking her head and waving a hand to show how unfazed she definitely was. “I’m just busy,” she said. “Things to do, people to see, places to go, sights to see.” As if she ever left the house on the weekends except to go to school events. She hadn’t even been to a party all year. Mikaela, of course, did not need to know that— even if she did already know that. “Books to write,” she finished, and she added, “Words to read.”

You know, for good measure.

“Are you trying to avoid partying with me Tor?” Mik asked, putting a hand to her heart. She had a pained look that, yeah, probably wasn’t real, but it looked convincing enough to make Tori shift. “I’m hurt.”

Tori huffed a sigh, and she studied Mik’s face for a moment before rolling her eyes and forking up some more of her waffle. “No,” she said firmly. She poised up an eyebrow. “Why would I do that? No, I’m just…a busy, busy girl, ya know.” She pursed her lips, biting her waffle from her fork. “Plus, again…partying with you seems to involve hard drugs and uprooting plants, and neither of those are my exact cup of tea, Mik.”

“Hey! The plants was a one-time thing,” Mikaela pouted, shaking her head. Her pout twinged into a smile as Tori stared at her with disbelieving eyes.

“Uh-huh,” Tori said sarcastically, nodding, “and I’m the fucking Dalai Lama.”

“Besides what fun is there in one person adventures? In my experience, they’re always more fun with others,” Mikaela stated.

Uh-huh.” Tori’s voice was still rife with skepticism. “Sure. I’m sure totally not uprooting prized hedges and totally not injecting…” Tori didn’t know any drugs. “…fucking horse tranqs or something is more fun with company, but I think I’m good on that front,” she condescended, and she laughed slightly.

Mikaela downed her coke, and she finally got around to answering Tori’s question: what the hell was the appeal of drugs and that kind of behavior?

Mikaela smiled coyly, dangling her fork lazily from her finger tips, playfully drawing lines in the air with it. “What’s the appeal you ask? I mean I could just tell you…but I’m a little…distracted and sad.” She sighed dramatically and pouted again. “You spent what, three hours all alone in a car with Hottie Gray and I don’t get even a single detail.”

Tori rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. Oh God, here she went again.

“No. Details,” Tori said, cracking a smile. “I’m not going to tell you that we—“ She cut herself off, playing coy with a soft, triumphant chuckle. “Well, I’m just not going to say.” She wiggled her chin proudly, closing her eyes as she did before peeking over at Mikaela.

“Since you don’t want to share them,” her friend began, “then I’ll just let my imagination do the work.”

Tori laughed lightly. “Yeah, you do that,” she said, expecting Mikaela to move on.

She never moved on. Tori didn’t know why she expected her to then, but a girl could hope, right?

“Let’s see.” Mikaela pressed a thoughtful finger to her cheek and looked up at the ceiling. “It starts with an exchange of the years apart, and then a reminiscence of the time you shared together, a dash of mourning for the time lost.”

Tori eyed Mik suspiciously. Wherever this was headed, she didn’t trust it.

“You stare into each other’s eyes…” Mikaela continued.

Mik,” Tori warned, green eyes stern.

“Unable to look away…”

She made a cutoff motion at her throat, looking over her shoulders and then back at her friend. “Mikky.”

“…and then you find yourselves drawn closer, and closer by an invisible magnetic force—“

Tori desperately tapped a shush-ing finger on her lips.

“— until your lips meet in an explosion of fireworks and the two of you find yourselves in a steamy embrace, unable to let go for fear of—“

“Mi-kae-la!” Tori gasped, swatting at her friend, and Mikaela chuckled, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Ok, ok, I’ll stop there.” And then she felt the need to add: “For now.”

“I cannot with you,” Tori said, rolling her eyes and trying to hold back a smile. “Ugh.” She failed at holding back the smile, and it broke out across her face. Her cheeks and ears were beet red, and she put a hand up to cover one of her cheeks, swatting at Mikaela again. “I’m going to— you’re— ugh, I can’t,” she repeated. She reached over and grabbed her arm, looking into her face with her best attempt at sternness, again trying to hold back her smile. “You’re so…,” she started, but then her smile cracked wider, and she laughed. “Oh my God.”

Okay, fine, so she’d admit liked that about Mik: she kind of did her own thing, went her own way, and danced to the beat of her own drummer. Yeah. It was admirable— kind of. But don’t tell Mikaela that she said that— kind of destroyed Tori’s whole “I’m morally superior” thing she had going on.

Okay, stop, before you said anything…listen, Tori wasn’t that way because she didn’t want to be that way. It wasn’t because she, psh, lacked the confidence to do it. No, no. Absolutely not.

Her overabundance of shame was not the reason whatsoever.

And like…fine, Mikaela’s playfulness did kind of wear off on Tori a little when they were together. Yes, in form of Tori’s curiosity being (yeah, she’d admit it) piqued, but also…Tori felt like, if she hung around her too much, she was liable to actually get into that kind of trouble.

Not that Tori wasn’t resilient, of course. She could hold her own and stay strong to her convictions, obviously.

She dropped Mikaela’s arm with a gentle swat and another eyeroll, and Mikaela spoke again. “Anyway as I was saying earlier, I could just tell you all about the appeal of doing all those things and how fun they can be, but it’s better to experience it yourself. Simply hearing about it from others just isn’t the same.”

Tori eyed her friend. “Are you trying to recruit me?” she asked, and then she corrected: “Corrupt me?” She tried to say it somewhat sarcastically, but the knit in her brows made it sound genuine.

“If you won’t let me join on a Tori approved adventure,” Mikaela said, “then we can just do a Mikaela approved one instead, then you can judge for yourself just what the appeal of one is.”

“Y…” She started to give the same answer that she did to everything (“yuh-no”), but she hesitated, pursing her lips and studying Mikaela.

Mikaela approved adventure, huh?

“You aren’t serious, are you?” Tori asked, her brows furrowing. “Let me get this straight: you want me to join you on one of your benders?” She pointed between herself and Mikaela at the pronouns before picking up her nearly-empty Coke can. She studied Mikaela’s face, and then rolled her eyes. “Or you’re just saying that to tease me,” she concluded.

That had to be it— there was no way Mik was inviting her to do that wild shit with her.

No fucking way.




mood
talking

location
a table in the hallway

outfit
white & grey





playing...
be nice to me
by the front bottoms​



mentions
ezra

interactions
mikaela

tags
Xed Xed


º º code by ditto º º
 

geminiy

v tired
Ezra Gray
@EZGoing has set their status to:
good morning

@EZGoing has set their outfit to:
dilf energy, probably

@EZGoing has set their location to:
third floor by his locker

@EZGoing has mentioned:
Bottom & Alex

@EZGoing has interacted with:
Auguste

@EZGoing has tagged:
qunqun qunqun
A smirk of pure satisfaction settled across Ezra’s face as he brought the mug of coffee up to his lips, pausing the mug to inhale the cinnamon and espresso steam waft into his nose before taking a deep sip. Auguste had heard Ezra’s call and had taken a few steps towards him, shuffling out of the way of the sunlight that Ezra had claimed he was blocking.

“Oh. Salut.” Auguste greeted with a smile, a singular earbud dangling down his neck. “I apologize for your pain, I didn’t see you there. But I say hello now, at the very least, no? How’s the film project going?”

Ezra laughed warmly, reaching into his open passenger’s window to grab his bag. With a quick lock of his doors, Ezra twirled the keys around his middle finger and walked towards Auguste.

“Right to business, hm?” Ezra asked rhetorically, walking past Auguste and towards the school in hopes that the slightly taller boy would follow him. “I didn’t take you to be someone so serious. No ‘good morning’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘how was your evening’. Straight to the point.” Ezra slung his bag across his chest and stuffed his hands in the pocket of his slacks. Shooting a glance out of his peripheral vision to Auguste, the sly smile once again returning to Ezra’s lips. “We’ll be working on that.”

Ezra reached an arm out and tugged the front door to the school open, politely holding it open for the dancer before stepping inside himself. The school was still quite empty though a steady stream of students were entering from the back doors, clearly having taken the bus rather than driving or walking. Without much consideration for Auguste, Ezra turned sharply and bumped the door to the stairwell open with his hip, immediately walking through and bounding up the stairwell by two or three steps at a time.

Once on the landing to the third floor, Ezra opened the door and waited for Auguste to catch up before stepping inside the hallway. Ezra didn’t talk much as he walked outside of saying a friendly good morning to a few of his teachers that he passed as they walked, only stopping once they were in front of Ezra’s locker.

“To answer your earlier question,” Ezra spoke suddenly as his fingers twisted the combination lock open, the door springing open to reveal a nearly empty locker within, “I have been spending a lot of time recently actually putting together the pieces Alex and…” Ezra paused, stopping himself from blurting out the infamous name he was thinking. “Chas requested of me. It has been a lot of work but the work itself is enjoyable. So I suppose it is going well.”

Ezra carefully tucked his backpack inside his locker before grabbing a bag of tools from the bottom of his locker, dusting a fine layer of multicoloured dust off the leather handle.

“And you?” Ezra asked, finally turning back to Auguste to look at him. “How have you been? Not working too hard, I hope. Seems to me like you’re the kind to overwork themselves and not know how to let go and relax.” Ezra looked slightly up at Auguste, studying his face. Reaching a hand up, he gently tapped two fingers against the side of Auguste’s jaw. “You’re holding a lot of tension, Auguste. Seems my assessment was correct.”

Taking a final sip of his coffee, Ezra carefully stowed the mug inside his bag and closed the locker door. “Speaking of work, I actually have to get a few last minute things done in the studio for Alex, last minute changes to some of the sets.” Ezra cocked an eyebrow and slung his tool bag over his arm, grunting slightly at the sudden weight on his shoulder. “Care to join me? I could use an extra set of hands.”

º º code by ditto º º
 

Winona

#1 Queen of Breaking Characters






Ashton West


He was pissed. Of course he was pissed, why wouldn't he be pissed? Ash had fucked up, and she felt guilty as she climbed out of the van and closed the door after her. He slammed his own door, causing the entire van to rattle, and she flinched before going around the van to meet Trevor.

Her hands reached up and closed around the straps of her backpack while she walked beside him, and she looked down towards the ground. Ash didn't really... know what to say, because she was pretty sure that anything else she said on the matter might just make things worse.

Of course, Ash couldn't just let things drop, so she glanced towards him. "Look, after the Arts Fest is over? We'll hang out, like, all the time. Promise." She said, giving him a smile.

It was just that right now? She needed to put the Arts Festival kind of first because like... she just needed it to be good, and the closer that they got to the actual thing, the more worried she got about it. The more that she felt insecure about the lyrics, and the more she felt like her voice wasn't good enough, and the more she felt like it was all going to come crashing down, and then she was going to get an F and have to return home.

Which was obviously just.. not what she wanted.

It felt a little tense between them as they started to head inside, and the silence that hung over them just made things feel so much worse.

“By the way, how is that going?” He looked over at her, smiling. “Your Festival project, I mean.”

Ash glanced back up at him, her smile widening when he spoke. For the most part, she hadn't spoken about her project at all since it felt as if every mention of Lucky just made Trevor flip out -- or, if he didn't actively flip, it just put him in a really bad mood, so she'd just... given up and steered clear of mentioning it at all. Like it was always there, of course, the knowledge that she was doing her project with Lucky, but it wasn't like it was ever mentioned.

But before she could respond, someone answered for her.

“It’s going amazingly well…” Lucky said as he squeezed his way between her and Trevor, “…that’s so sweet of you to ask, Trev.”

"Good morning," he said, and she smiled back in response, "Extra chocolate hot chocolate for you.” He added as he held the beverage out for her. She took it from him as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and she wrapped an arm around him in a quick hug back before letting go. “Normal, super caffeinated coffee for me.”

She let out a small laugh as she stepped back, putting some distance between herself and Lucky before, you know, Trevor flipped out. "Hey," she said and held up the drink, "I can't believe you, like, remembered, but ummm... thanks." It was a nice gesture, okay? And, like, yeah it had kind of become a back and forth between the two, but it wasn't as if every time that he showed up with the drink, she wasn't taken aback by the fact that he remembered.

It was nice.

“I’m exhausted.” He glanced at Trevor, and Ash followed his gaze back over to her totally-not-boyfriend. “This girl has been working me to the bone.”

She gave a small laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I guess," she agreed, "I mean, we've just like... umm... got a lot to go over before the Festival." Which was the truth -- even if they basically had everything down, but Ash just wanted to make sure that it was perfect and that it would sound good or whatever for the festival. "It's going, like, well, though. Like it sounds really good, I think. Lucky is like... a really good singer."

Oh yeah, this didn't feel tense or bad whatsoever. Nope. Not at all.

Her heart was thrumming in her chest a bit, and although she felt somewhat nervous, she managed to keep a relaxed smile on her face as she glanced from Lucky back to Trevor.




mood
happy, good, amazing, totally great

location
outside the school

outfit
omg great oufits





playing...
I Don't Know Why
by NOTD​



mentions
Hunter, Callum, Lucky, Gen

interactions
Trevor

tags
Ditto Ditto


º º code by ditto º º
 

geminiy

v tired
Charlie Howell
@howedoyoudo has set their status to:
[record scratch]
[freeze frame]
yeah, that's me... you're probably wondering how I got here


@howedoyoudo has set their outfit to:
school casual

@howedoyoudo has set their location to:
dalton's locker

@howedoyoudo has mentioned:
n/a

@howedoyoudo has interacted with:
kirby

@howedoyoudo has tagged:
Xed Xed
“You what?”

Charlie swallowed roughly, jaw tightening as she looked up at Dalton.

Oh no. He was mad.

He was mad as in probably gonna use her stupid little head as a bongo set mad.

Oh fuck, she was gonna die.

(If you’re reading this and Charlie dies, she wants sunflowers at her funeral. No speeches, Charlie hates speeches. Also, Trevor is not allowed to plan it because he’ll probably screw it up because he’ll be sad and if Charlie’s going out young, she wants a cool funeral. Yes, that means playing ‘Staying Alive’ as her casket is brought down the little aisle thing. Yes, that means really good finger foods at the wake. It’ll be dope.)

“Are you fucking kidding me. That fucking bitch.”

Charlie blinked a few times, her entire body stiff in anticipation of some sort of rage punch to her face. Honestly, she probably deserved whatever gruesome death was coming her way. Seriously, Charlie really should have gone for her second ‘leave it where he will find it’ plan. That plan had a way lower mortality rate. Fuck, she was too young to die.

Dalton took a few steps, his large body temporarily towering over Charlie who, like an idiot, squeezed her eyes shut. Yeah, this is where she was going to die, this is where it would all be over. In a few seconds, she would become a human bongo for mister Angry Donkey Kong. In a few seconds, she’d be a Charlie shaped splatter on the STEM hallway floor. Maybe her life had been lived to the fullest, maybe she had done everything she was supposed to in her pitifully short lifespan.

“Whatever Howell, feel free to run along now and pat yourself on the back or whatever for accomplishing a good deed.”

Eyes still shut, Charlie’s face crinkled up in confusion. Did that voice just come from behind her?

Slowly but surely, Charlie popped a singular eye open to find that the space one inhabited by Dalton was empty. He was completely gone, completely out of view and Charlie, well Charlie was somehow still standing. A strange and unexpected turn of events in Charlie’s mind, given the fact that she had just had her life flashing before her as she peered death right in the face.

Okay, maybe she was being a little bit dramatic. But Dalton, albeit really fucking dumb, was absolutely terrifying.

Charlie exhaled sharply, her lungs screaming in relief from holding in her breath. Some people say that you should do one thing that scares you a day and fuck, that was enough fear for a life time. But, Charlie had survived which meant that she was free to go onto her next class and live the rest of her life in sweet, blissful peac-

“That bitch, giving me this fucking ultimatum one day before the test. She wants me to fail so I have to spend extra time with her on those stupid remedial lessons, doesn’t she? That damn psycho. Fuck.”

No, no she didn’t just hear that. Dalton’s failing grades were none of her business, nor did he want her help in any capacity. No, that wasn’t Charlie’s job. She was free to live her life, free to go do whatever the hell she wanted and let Dalton face his consequences.

But… remedial lessons? Was he struggling that much?

And Charlie had already fast tracked so that she was in senior AP chemistry (thank you summer classes) so theoretically…

Charlie shook her head at her own thought process, then at the fact that her feet were jogging beneath her without instruction towards Dalton. Yeah, she was gonna regret that.

“Kirby,” she softly called out, jogging up beside him and grabbing his elbow, “Kirby, wait.”

Was Dalton now walking faster or was it the height difference that was making it difficult to keep up? That alone should have been enough of a sign for Charlie to turn around and leave but noooo, she simply wasn’t intelligent enough to know when to let sleeping dogs lie.

“I can help you.” Charlie panted beside him, her tiny legs rushing to try and keep up with Dalton’s significantly wider step. “Look, I know you probably don’t want my help and hell, my face is probably the last one you wanna see right now because clearly you’re pissed off but just hear me out.”

Charlie readjusted the books in her arms as she took a few quick steps to catch back up.

“I’m in senior AP Chemistry right now, I sorta fast-tracked my classes over the summer so that I didn’t have to take all three sciences next year.” Charlie began to explain, keeping her voice quiet and level so that no one besides Dalton would really hear what she was saying. “And, uh, I sorta tutor a lot here. Cash is tight so I usually tutor for extra pocket money. I actually helped this one kid pull himself up from a 30% average in trig so I mean, I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Charlie took another few heavy breaths as she chased after Dalton, books still tucked gently in her arms. Fuck, she had to change her tune, otherwise he’d never accept her help.

“Anyways, uh, you don’t have to say yes but, uh.”

Reaching out, Charlie grabbed Dalton’s shoulder and pulled him backwards slightly to get him to stop walking as she caught her breath. The hallway that they had ended up was primarily empty, sans for a kid at the other end with their headphones in. Now or never, Charlie.

“I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot like a whole lot. And I get that you really don’t like me, like that message is received loud and clear. And the whole thing with Lydia really doesn’t make it any better but I sorta think that maybe I can make it up to you.” Charlie stepped in front of Dalton, bouncing slightly to force the books back up towards her chest. Who the hell made textbooks so damn heavy? “Look, I don’t hate you, dude. You’re not the worst person in this school by far and I think that you really just aren’t the type that gives a fuck about their grades. Which is fine, of course, but remedial classes aren’t gonna help you any. They’ll just make your situation worse because you’re not gonna care about them either and then you’ll fail and then boom, vicious cycle.”

Charlie let out a sigh and reached a hand up to rub the tension out of her temples. It was too early for this shit.

“I’ll tutor you, free of charge. I’ll even clear my schedule to help you out. No one has to know, I know that low grades can be embarrassing but trust me when I say that people catching wind that you’re going to remedial classes will be so much worse.” Charlie finally offered, her face cringing at the sound of her own voice. “Or I can just fuck off and none of this ever happened. I promise. You have my word, if that means absolutely anything to you. No catch, no hidden shit, no ulterior motives. I just think I can help you and why should you have to suffer if someone can help?"

º º code by ditto º º
 

qunqun

There will be light
MOOD: Slightly stressed

OUTFIT: Something workable

LOCATION: School
basics
MENTIONS:



INT:

tags
TL;DR Nah.
tl;dr
Bailey

Bailey was on the second of four different old Victorian dresses that they were trying to create. And quite frankly, they were having the time of their life. A clear-defined and looming deadline? Having to work overtime in order to get the details in the dress that they wanted? Yes please! This was their element, being overworked and exhausted and their perfectionism running them ragged.

The rest of the lot outside the workspace that Bailey had created for themselves could do all they wanted with the sleeping around and the drugs and the alcohol and the partying and whatnot, Bailey was perfectly content with creating their four historically accurate Victorian dresses for the fair.

Of course, this dedication to their craft generally meant that they didn’t go to generally fun things like the lock-in, but quite frankly, after seeing the meltdowns over twitter… Yeah, it was probably for the best that they didn’t go. Someone fucked in the stairway? Nasty. The Sinclaires having their fallout? Even nastier. No thank you, Bailey was very content with staying with their dresses and not having to deal with that shit. They had a deadline to meet, and if the fits were going to be PERFECT, then they couldn’t distract themselves with that nonsense.
code by valen t.
 

Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






trevor callaghan​


Trevor. Was. Fine.

Ab.

Solutely.

Fine.

He was fixing this situation, ignoring the tension, and it was all going to melt away soon. It was all going to disappear, and he’d have a fine sendoff with his not-girlfriend-whatsoever-what-are-you-talking-about, and it was going to be all fine and fecking dandy. Trevor, after all, was known for his impeccable problem-solving skills.

See, but there was something important there that you may have missed in those sentences: was.

Trevor was fine.

Trevor was absolutely fine.

But now that there was some snub-nosed, testosterone-pumped, baby-faced fecking hellion walking down the hallway— or strutting, be as it may— Trevor was going to lose his goddamn marbles.

Oh Christ Almighty…

He felt his posture sag, and his expression followed suit.

Fuck me in the—

Trevor Callaghan often found himself in situations that made him stop and wonder: what kind of atrocity against God did I commit to have this sort of retribution exacted upon me? Was it his existence that caused this? Had he been cursed from birth to have to endure such mortal peril?

Did it even fecking matter?

Fuck. Me.

Or better yet—

End me.

Well.

So much for fixing anything. So much for having any kind of pleasant day.

It wasn’t shocking that his day was getting ruined, but damn it. One good day was all he asked for. Was it too much?

Yeah, guess so.

Look away. If you don’t see it, it won’t see you. That was how it worked with dogs, right? Lucky was close enough a dog— he was humping Ash’s leg at every given chance.

Was he a boy, or was he a flea-infested rat terrier?

Damn, these spot the difference games just got harder and harder.

Trevor held his chin up, looking at the space over Lucky’s head as he approached.

And then the fucker had the audacity to weasel his greasy way between Trevor and his totally-not-girlfriend-what-makes-you-think-that, and Trevor broke his intimate eye contact with the anti-bullying poster at the end of the hallway to glance down at the eyesore that was Fucky DuBalls.

And then back at the poster. At least that didn’t burn his eyeballs.

“It’s going amazingly well,” Lucky said, asserting his unwanted, unwarranted opinion in a conversation that in no way involved him. “That’s so sweet of you to ask, Trev.”

Trevor’s lips shifted into an indignant scowl for a moment, but he managed to suppress it long enough to glare down at the other boy.

Don’t engage; it’ll go away.

“Good morning,” he said to Ash, and Trevor had to peek again. “Extra chocolate hot chocolate for you.”

And then.

The bitch.

Wrapped.

His fecking.

Arm.

Around—

HewrappedhisfeckingarmaroundAshholyfeckingshitetheballsonthisabsolutefeckingtoddler.

Trevor’s lips curled into a wide, forced smile, his eyes reading his internal thoughts:

You son of a fucking bitch.

Someone fecking take me out.

And take him out, too, while you're at it, thanks.


Acid pumped in his veins, and his chest grew tight.

Lucky knew what he was fecking doing.

And then Ash— who knew, too— had the fecking—

She hugged him back.

Trevor looked away, simmering with a smile frozen on his face.

Kill me. Someone kill me.

Lucky said something about some kind of coffee, and his voice grated on Trevor’s eardrums.

His head gave a pound. Great. A tension headache was coming on. What a fecking shocker.

He was going to start bleeding from his ears if this kept on.

“Hey,” Ash said, laughing. He glanced over at her as she moved away. “I can’t believe you, like, remembered, but ummm…thanks.”

“So sweet of him,” Trevor said, and then he chuckled: “ahahaha.”

It wasn’t forced. He didn’t know why it sounded forced.

Ahahaha.

It wasn’t forced at all.

“I’m exhausted,” Lucky said, and Trevor looked to him to see him looking back.

The tension in his chest and in his head ramped up, and his brows lowered, his smile involuntarily growing disgusted.

“This girl has been working me to the bone.”

Ah…ha…ahaha,” Trevor laughed.

To the bone?

Ash laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess,” she said. “I mean, we’ve just like…umm…got a lot to go over before the Festival. It’s going, like, well, though. Like it sounds really good, I think. Lucky is like…a really good singer.”

Trevor’s smile spread tightly across his face, and he tilted his head at Ash. “Oh yeah?” he asked, his voice heavy with a forced interest, and then he looked at Lucky again. He folded his lips in for a second before smiling that oh-so-pleasant smile. “Ahahaha, I figured. I figured she’d been working you very hard.” There was an accidental emphasis on very hard. He swallowed, and a scowl flashed on his face for a moment before a tense smile replaced it. “I’m…so impressed.” His eyes flicked to Ash, then moved back to Lucky. “I’m impressed you’ve last this long. Ya seem like the type who’d…I dunno. Ya just don’t seem like the…” He bounced his head from side to side. “Commitment type. You seem more like a…hm.

Two-pump champ.

One and done
.

“I figured ya’d keep with it for two days max, and then…” He made a shooing motion. “You know?”

It was all very backhanded, the words he was saying, but— noooo. No, it wasn’t at all backhanded, Ash, and to show this, he gave her a pleasant smile.

He looked back at Lucky. “I’m amazed, frankly.” His smile became a near-sneer when he spoke, but immediately faded back during his pauses to that tense, forced smile. “Though I figured, with your…”

Five-year-old-looking mug.

Appearance, you’d have to work a bit harder with your voice to get where ya are, so it’s really no wonder how well you’re doing here.” He laughed. “Even if you’re…well.”

Nothin’ special.

He stopped that thought short, and just said, “Round of applause for yer so damn impressin’ self.”

Passive aggression? What passive aggression?

He was calm. Cool as a fecking cucumber.

Not pissed in the slightest.

His head throbbed, but he laughed as lightly as he could.

“Well,” he said, “I suppose I should probably get goin’, shouldn’t I? Wouldn’ want to encroach on this…" His eyes moved to Lucky again. "...nice, long chat over lovingly-prepared and so kindly-remembered drink orders between such good, bonded friends, now would I?" His venomous, jealous gaze set on Lucky, his smile grew tighter. "I should leave you to it, shouldn't I?”

His heart was beating out of his chest, and his head pounded.

He was going to have a heart attack at barely-seventeen over Baby Face McGee making eyes at his girlfriend.

Fecking grand.




mood
😀

location
somewhere inside, near the entrance

outfit
something casual





playing...
the funeral
by band of horses​



mentions
n/a

interactions
ash & lucky

tags
Winona Winona gh0stwriter gh0stwriter


º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:

qunqun

There will be light
MOOD:
Perpetually nervous

OUTFIT:
Something comfy

LOCATION:
School
basics
MENTIONS:
Chas, Tori



INT:
Ez geminiy geminiy
tags
TL;DR:
Nope
tl;dr
Auguste

Auguste rolled his eyes as Ez began his short rant about being straight to business, keeping the smile on his face as he did so. He waited for there to be a pause.

“Bonjour, Ezra. Ca va?” He said in a robotic monotone voice, bringing his voice up an octave, like a child parroting back a teacher in elementary school. He tried to not feel too threatened by the “we’ll be working on that” that followed. Probably a joke. He was going to take it as a joke.

He followed his fellow giant into the school, dipping his head with a slight “merci beaucoup” at the door being opened for him. At the sight of the people clambering into the school, he shoved his hands in his pockets. In loud dins, he actually fared pretty well, if he just blocked out specific voices and conversations that would float past his ears and let it settle into background noise. Though it did make things slightly uncomfortable. He sprang up after Ez, with an easy kind of grace to him.

Another note about Ez, he made things fun. Like walking up stairs. Usually Auguste would be terrified of running into someone while jumping up a staircase, so he wouldn’t do that. The fears just kind of… dissipated around him. Fellow giant didn’t stomp on anyone’s foot, so he wouldn’t either. It was refreshing.

They stopped at Ez’s locker. Fair enough. And Ez began to speak. Auguste shoved his hands in his hoodie’s pockets once more, listening intently, lest Ez’s voice be swept up in the people talking around him.

Alex and….” Auguste’s lips drew back into a wolf-like grin. Lots of teeth. His scarred eyebrow raised. “Chas.” The eyebrow dropped, a more mild, well-mannered smile in place of the mischievous grin of before. Disappointing, really, that Ez didn’t outright say Bottom, but hey. The guy WAS working for Passif after al-. Not Passif. Chas. His name was Chas. He wasn’t going to let Ezra’s behavior influence him THAT much already.

“I’m fine… Ahead of schedule actually with the dance” Auguste said with a simple shrug. A bit of acting was required on his part, but it was definitely going to be a departure from his usual stuff, which was exciting.

Auguste probably, again, could’ve been deemed as “hot” once upon a time. He had a nice bone structure, a good jawline, icy eyes. But he had long scars in his right eyebrow, like someone had decided to cut his face open with a knife. Scarred lips.. It looked like there was also another scar leading into his hairline. And a generally slightly dishevelled appearance… The white patch in his hair certainly didn’t help any on the disheveled front… and to be completely honest his light eyes were more… piercing than actually friendly looking. Scary.

He was going to refute the idea that he worked too hard and didn’t know how to let go and relax. Because he did know how to let go, thank you very much. It was just that he didn’t like people. And his dancer’s regiment meant that he couldn’t be pumping drugs in there, messing up his biology. Especially with a performance so close. And okay MAYBE he spent yesterday late at the school until 6PM trying to get his feet to move double the speed that they would have to for performance BUT if he could do at DOUBLE, then he could easily do it at normal speeds while also keeping things relaxed and-

Okay maybe he didn’t know how to have fun. But then again… Ez had taken on creating an entire short film’s worth of props to be created semi-last minute for absolutely 0 reason. Auguste opened his mouth, about to call Ezra out on this

And then Ezra was touching him. Auguste’s mouth shut and his jaw clenched on reflex because where in the world was this going sir please no why was his heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

You’re holding a lot of tension, Auguste. Seems like my assessment was correct.

OKAY WELL FUCK YOU TOO THEN I GUESS. Was he supposed to continue talking like nothing just happened? What was the American societal protocol for awkward tense buddies just touching each other’s jaws like that was NORMAL. What even was that? What was Ez trying to prove? Was this part of his dastardly plan to make Auguste admit attraction to him? No but actually what in the ever living fuck just happened please is this how normal people interact in the first place.

Once his heart stopped pounding in his ears, it was pretty clear what it was: It was Ezra doing his Ezra thing of messing with people. Right. Forgot who he was talking to for a second there. Probably did this with that poor Tori girl when they were in the dorms.

“Now it is your turn to hurt me, no?” He said, tilting his head right before he bounded off, went to his own locker. “Sad you even have to ask, really.” He said, clicking his tongue, opening his locker, pinning his backpack against his knee and the wall in order to have an easy way to remove textbooks. The locker was surprisingly messy. Papers shoved haphazardly into the back. A notebook fell out that Auguste quickly caught halfway before it hit the ground with the smoothness of having done that about… every single time he opened the locker, really. He put the notebook in his backpack and locked the locker.

Auguste gave Ez another toothy mischievous grin. “I tell you: anytime, anywhere, mon frère. Lead the way.”
code by valen t.
 
Last edited:

Ditto

ʟɪᴠɪɴ' ʟɪᴋᴇ ʟᴀʀʀʏ






MICHAEL K. REID​


Jason “Hey Mom, I Found a Pube!" West was squealing like a fucking toddler, begging Mike to stop!, like that was going to do anything. He looked like he was going to sob, piss his pants, pass out, or maybe all three, which made Mike’s dark grin spread wider.

He had some bad news, Worst Western: the louder you screamed, the more Mike was going to shove you around. It was like a dog with a chew toy— the more it squeaked, the more the dog wanted to bite it.

Yeah, more dog metaphors. You knew how much Mike loved a good dog metaphor.

Bow-fucking-wow.

“I-I-I don’t…,” West began to stammer. Mike could feel him fucking hyperventilating, flipping the fuck out.

Please fucking cry. Oh, please do. Make my fucking day.

“I don’t…I don’t k-k-know!” Jason “My Parents Wanted a Girl; Instead, They Got a Fruity Disappointment” West whimpered like the fucking bitch that he was. “I-I can’t…c-can’t remem-remember.”

“Can’t remember?” Mike asked, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

“Wh-what d-d-do w-want?” He sounded like a hysterical housewife confronted with the news that, oh shit, hubby likes the neighbor’s dicksleeve better than her own— the resemblance was nearly fucking uncanny. “Wh-what do you…wa-want?”

“What do I want?” Mke repeated. “What do I want?” He gripped West’s shirt tighter, pulling him down further. “Did I hear you right, Bitchface Jace? You wanna repeat that, Tinydickfest West? You can’t be fucking serious.” He let out a laugh from his chest, and then—

He slammed his fist into the boy’s stomach, not even letting go to watch him crumple. He glared at him for a moment, watching his reaction, his fist tightly gripping his shirt, yanking to keep him upright. “Were you even fucking listening before, Micromeat?” he growled lowly. “Haven’t I already fucking told you what I want? Did you not pay attention? Were you—“ He cocked his head, laughing. “Oh shit, Jacey-poo, was it possible that you thought that I didn’t deserve your attention? Was that it?” His grin was venomous, daring him to give any answer besides some kind of flimsy, deflective excuse.

Mike balled up his free fist, still holding tightly to West’s shirt. It was probably stretching out. He thought that he’d heard a seam pop. He didn’t give a shit. “I think it’s been too long since you and I had a good long conversation, don’t you?” He held his fist up at eye-level, glancing at it. “What…sophomore year since you and I had a chat like this?” He grinned at West, making a motion as if he were going to punch him but stopping short of his face, just to watch him flinch, and he chuckled. “You really missed it, didn’t you? You gotta really be a fucking masochist, acting like you don’t remember those harsh, terrible fucking words you said about me beneath your breath in the hall, huh? What’s next, I’m going to hit you and you’re going to call me Daddy or some shit, Piss Kink? Beg me to pull out a fucking whip? Sorry, I left my chains at the house. Don't carry handcuffs with me." He put on a pout and a mocking baby voice when he spoke next. "Awww, buh I don't mean to disappoint, Gowden Showew. I know how upset you get when you don't get youw way.”

Mike laughed again, and then he suddenly pulled West closer by his shirt, setting his face in seriousness, his brows low, his lips curled into a snarl. His eyes read a kind of delight as he demanded in a growl, “Fucking say what you said, West. Let's fucking here it— fucking squeal it."

Again, he didn’t give a shit what West had said. He’d heard it loud and clear. He didn’t doubt that West didn’t know what he’d said.

But did that change anything?

Nope. Not a damn thing.




mood
old habits die hard

location
a random music room

outfit
something casual





playing...
drunk face
by machine gun kelly​



mentions
n/a

interactions
take a fucking guess. he'll give you one word: incontinent. (he was going to say bitch, but there are too many options for that one, aren't there?)

tags
Winona Winona


º º code by ditto º º
 

Xed

Running Wild






Dalton Kirby



As he made his way down the corridor, rattling off a series of messages to Adriane and seriously considered her suggestion to key the prof's car, a hand grabbed his elbow and he looked down to see that for some reason or another, Thumbelina had decided to follow him.

What did she want now? He wasn't in the mood to play babysitter, nor did he have the time to do so.

"I can help you."

What now?

This was probably when the polite person would stop to listen or at least slow their pace, but Dalton wasn't polite, and he was in a rush, so he just kept going, not caring whether stubby legs could keep up with him.

Though he was a little intrigued, even if the raised brows might have suggested more annoyance than anything else.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want my help and hell, my face is probably the last one you wanna see right now because clearly you’re pissed off but just hear me out.”

That's kinda what he was doing. Was she trying to fit the stereotype of a dumb blonde? Because she already had the blonde part down pat and now she was certainly starting to fit the dumb image as well.

Also she wasn't the last person he wanted to see right now. He'd already seen him and given a bloody nose long before Charlie came along.

"Just cut the rambling and get to the point." Again, he really wasn’t the mood for grandfather story.

“I’m in senior AP Chemistry right now, I sorta fast-tracked my classes over the summer so that I didn’t have to take all three sciences next year.” Charlie began to explain, keeping her voice quiet and level so that no one besides Dalton would really hear what she was saying. “And, uh, I sorta tutor a lot here. Cash is tight so I usually tutor for extra pocket money. I actually helped this one kid pull himself up from a 30% average in trig so I mean, I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Point being what? She was gonna offer to tutor him or something? If so he would rather she just make her offer quick and snappy instead of giving this lengthy ass speech.

“Anyways, uh, you don’t have to say yes but, uh.”

She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to a stop. Well wasn't this turning out to be a lovely morning.

His feet obliged, and he rolled his eyes as he stood and waited for the girl to catch her breath. You'd think she just ran a marathon or something looking at her.

“I know we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot like a whole lot.”

Uh huh, if she was talking about him being rude and snappy, he was like that to everyone. Thumbelina wasn’t a special case or anything beyond the fact that her exceptionally short stature made talking down to her an actual pain in the neck.

“And I get that you really don’t like me, like that message is received loud and clear.”

Dalton raised an eyebrow. He actually didn’t really care, though there was no need to correct that impression.

“And the whole thing with Lydia really doesn’t make it any better but I sorta think that maybe I can make it up to you.”

Ok now he was really confused. The what now? Lydia thing? He had no clue what she was talking about. What’d that have to do with him anyway?

That was Lydia’s shit. Hers and Lydia, and while he liked Lydia’s company more than most, her problems weren’t his and certainly didn’t have any bearing on his actions.

The fact that Charlie seemed to think he cared was both amusing and annoying. Why would she have to make it up to him when her issue was with Lydia?

Had her brain gotten shot? Because she seemed to be fitting the dumb blonde stereotype more by the second, even though her talk of fast tracking her classes or whatever suggested otherwise.

“Look, I don’t hate you, dude.”

Hooray! Should he be throwing a celebration or something?

“You’re not the worst person in this school by far and I think that you really just aren’t the type that gives a fuck about their grades.”

No shit sherlock. He really didn’t and believe it or not, outside of fucking chemistry he actually got good grades.

“Which is fine, of course, but remedial classes aren’t gonna help you any. They’ll just make your situation worse because you’re not gonna care about them either and then you’ll fail and then boom, vicious cycle.”

Was she done playing psychologist or whatever her game was because while he couldn’t care less and had no such inclination before, the urge to just pick her up or shake her if only to get her to shut up or cut to the chase was growing stronger by the second.

He punched Slater whenever and wherever, but he rarely if ever actually punched women, even when they were pushing his patience to the limit.

Was everyone just out to test his patience today?

Thumbelina let out a sigh and massaged her temples. He was the one who ought to be feeling that way having to stand here and listen to this fucking speech of hers. If she wanted to inflict pain on herself, he’d much rather not be involved.

Whatever, he might as well actually get some shit done while Saint Howell made her mind up on when she finally wanted to get to whatever her point was.

Walking over to his locker nearby, Dalton unlocked it and took out the chemistry books he needed, shoving them into his bag. That’s right, his chemistry books. Had he shown up to class without them? Yeah. It was fucking professor bitch's class. He really didn't give a damn.

“I’ll tutor you, free of charge. I’ll even clear my schedule to help you out. No one has to know, I know that low grades can be embarrassing but trust me when I say that people catching wind that you’re going to remedial classes will be so much worse.” Charlie finally offered, her face cringing at the sound of her own voice. “Or I can just fuck off and none of this ever happened. I promise. You have my word, if that means absolutely anything to you. No catch, no hidden shit, no ulterior motives. I just think I can help you and why should you have to suffer if someone can help?"

Well that didn’t take her a whole hour and a half to get through.

Thank you for finally getting to the fucking point Saint Howell. Next time do us all a favour and cut out the rambling and just say something like “I’m super smart and really good at chemistry so I can tutor you free of charge.” Would save them both a whole lot of time and pain. God his neck ached.

Well in any case, he had no reason to turn her down even if her rambling speech had made him even more annoyed than before. If she proved to be more of a pain than actual help he could just pick her up and toss her right out of the library. Wouldn’t be hard to do so even if it would probably be painful to his ears. They were already bleeding anyways, no thanks to her.

“Fine, follow me.” He said gruffly, taking a couple of steps forward before stopping and turning back around.

Reaching down, Dalton plucked the heavy textbooks out of Charlie's hands and tucked them under his arm before he started walking off towards the library.

It just annoyed him. How much she struggled with keeping her books from spilling out onto the floor.

He wasn't in the mood to be slowed down by Charlie and her stubby legs or her inability to hold onto her books. The clock was ticking and thanks to prof bitch, he didn’t have much time to cover what he needed to for the test.

“Keep up.” He told Charlie over his shoulder, glancing back to check that he hadn’t lost her to the other end of the hallways with his longer strides. “And next time drop the speech and just get to the point. Don’t use me as a soundboard to practice your presidential campaign speech.” He added dryly.

Of course, by next time, he was referring to whenever they next spoke, not whenever he next failed a test because he wasn’t going to fail.

Dalton shifted the books under his arm as he headed into the library and took advantage of his height to see if he could find a quiet table around the back. Not because he was embarrassed or anything like Charlie suggested, but because he was less likely to get interrupted by people who might come in and see him in the library and kick up a big fuss like they’d seen a rare animal at the zoo or something.

Just cause he rarely if ever went to the library, didn’t mean he couldn’t be in there ok?

He settled down in the seat, dropping Charlie’s books on the table as he waited for her to settle down somewhere. In the meantime, he retrieved his own books and the crumpled-up test paper which was in even worse shape than before.

“So tutor expert, where do we start?” He should probably be telling her that really since he was sitting for the test and she didn’t really know how or what exactly he struggled with.

If she launched into another presidential speech though he couldn’t make any promises that he wouldn’t punch her.





mood
no more speeches please

location
in the library

outfit
outfit





playing...
song title here

by artist here​




mentions
Lydia, Slater, Adriane

interactions
Charlie

tags
geminiy geminiy


º º code by ditto º º
 

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