Realistic or Modern Newcastle (Open!!)

ditto · Aug 13, 2022

Mitchell Carson

C'est la vie

a park

...

clothes + a volunteer vest

hav |

Soap

Mitchell was trying neither to be helpful nor hurtful with his commentary. He considered himself to be an honest man, and he was truly indifferent to how his honest words affected those around him. It wasn’t his problem if others had a problem with the truth. He’d lost the willingness and ability to care about really anything a long while ago, and it was much better to be honest than fool those around you into thinking that life was all sunshines and rainbows, or that you enjoyed being around them, or that there was really a point to anything anymore.

The young, naive woman in front of him, as was typical of the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed fools her age, seemed to take offense to his honesty. “How sweet of you to provide your honest opinion, Mr. Carson — but I’ll have you know, while it may take a bit of time to warm up to me, it’s impossible not to like me,” she said. “I think you may be my first challenge this school has to offer? I win you over, I win the students over. And don’t take this at any offense, but…I strongly feel that you and some ninth graders may share some things in common. So, I might be in luck after all...”

There was a fault in that logic, and he was sure that there was something supposed to be insulting that was hidden somewhere in there, but Mitchell didn’t care enough to think on it any longer.

He breathed out a soft sigh through his nose, his eyes moving from Havana to scan the park. By a small pond in which a handful of geese lounged, the uptight boss woman talked aggressively with her hands to a young man who appeared as though he was about to cry. The young man, presumably an employee of the organization hosting this event, wore a SAVE THE PUPPIES! shirt of an obnoxious yellow color. Beneath another white tent stood Hal, the elderly custodian, happily cradling a Newfoundland pup; Mitchell looked away before he could be spotted.

As his eyes moved about the area, his gaze caught on the family that he had seen earlier, and for a few moments, inexplicably, he could not look away. The woman, probably somewhere in her late twenties, had pulled her sunglasses off and rested them on her hat to peer down at something her son was trying to show her, while her husband smiled down at the baby in the stroller. The woman laughed at something the little boy said, then looked back at the man to give him a big smile, her hand reaching up to pull her sunglasses back down as she put her other hand on her son’s shoulder.

There was something dysfunctional about the family of four — something that seemed slightly off-kilter, some cogs that seemed slightly gummy; but it was beautiful, too. Not in the way that something from a movie is beautiful, but in the way that messy, real life can make a wild array of mishaps and mistakes into something picturesque: the little family of four, with this son who wanted nothing more than to have a puppy even though he had been hurt by one, the silent father whose only communication seemed to be with his family, this prissy-seeming woman who held so much love for all of them, and the little baby in the stroller who knew none of it.

Mitchell felt his stomach sour, jealously, guiltily, and painfully, and he looked away. His fingers itched for a cigarette; I need a smoke break, he thought, almost desperately.

“If that’s all, Ms. Lombardi,” he said, looking at some nondescript spot in the distance. “Or perhaps it’s Misses Lombardi,” he suggested, in his dreary monotone, “I will be…”

He heard some plastic rustle, and he turned his eyes back to Havana to see her holding out a blue plastic bag for him. “Clean-up on aisle for,” she said with a smile, inclining her head toward the pen.

Mitchell felt everything in him pull downward in dread as he looked toward the cage, where the pug stood beside its masterpiece with a revolting smile on its face.

This is my own personal hell, he thought, looking back to Havana.

He gave a soft sigh. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done, Ms. Lombardi?” he tried, testing out a weak, split-second smile as he held the bag out to her.

He stood there like that for several moments; no hand reached out to take the bag from him.

Very slowly and reluctantly, Mitchell looked back to the cage. At the same time, the pug looked toward him, cocking its head almost gloatingly as though it understood exactly what it had done. For a long moment, Mitchell stared at the dog, and the dog stared right back.

Stare; stare.

Stare; stare.

Shit, Mitchell thought internally, slowly beginning to approach the cage as he prepared the bag, turning it inside out and placing his hand behind it. It was obvious that he had done this before.

As he dealt with the dog’s business, he sustained cold eye contact with the dog. It panted happily, sitting back on its hindquarters.

God, you’re so damn ugly, he thought, standing up and typing the bag closed. He glared at it for a few moments, holding the bag between his thumb and forefinger and holding it out from his body, and then he looked up at Havana with a thoroughly unamused expression.

With a deep sigh, he turned, walked to a trash can to throw it away, and stole a couple of squirts from a Germ-X bottle that sat on one of the other tents’ tables.

He came back to Havana, setting back on his heels and sighing deeply. “So our job is to get that…” He looked down at the dog to see it licking its butt; Charming, he thought, his gaze moving to Havana again. “…adopted?”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 13, 2022

adeline jumper

bubblegum bitch

benji's

...?!

a cute date outfit

benji |

hery

Adeline Jumper understood the power of anger. No matter how aloof you played, if you showed any sign of anger, it became obvious that you cared, in some way, about what was happening; it was the checkmate for uncaring, cold-hearted bitches like herself who were above petty things like caring or giving a single fuck. Given this, things rarely got to Addie.

But on the rare occasion that they did, Adeline morphed into another beast entirely.

Adeline watched Benjamin with a burning gaze as he blinked at her and reached for the remote. “Pausing fucking Backyardigans can wait,” she snapped as he pressed the pause button on the remote.

"Did you just break into my fucking house?" Benji said, pulling his legs tightly to himself and hugging them in a childish manner. “Are you insane? Who does that?"

Addie’s heart quivered furiously in her chest, her eyes widening in maddened shock at Benji’s words. “Insane?” she repeated, smiling in disbelief. “I’m fucking insane, Bahi?!” She stepped forward toward him and felt something crunch beneath her heel. “Ugh!” Disgusted, she stamped down harder on it until she felt a crack, then looked down to see what it was. It took a few moments of confused glaring for her to discern that it was the clear front to a CD case, now shattered. Clenching her jaw and scowling, she gave it a firm kick, and it sailed across the carpet and smacked against the back of the couch. Her eyes snapped back to Benji. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she hissed, and then she smiled again in disbelief. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

He gestured around the room, then looked at her face to make eye contact; she immediately looked away, certain that she would leap over the couch and lose all fucking control over her body if she made eye contact with him. "You can't just...show up unannounced like that!" he said, and she spared a glance over at him, only to see him grinning like a fucking madman at her.

“Wipe that fucking grin off your face, Benjamin,” she snapped, “before I fucking do it myself.”

He laughed, and she finally let her eyes latch onto his.

She was taken aback for a moment, her heart dropping to the floor. His eyes looked wild. His pupils were constricted. His gaze was dawdly and angry. There was something terrifying in them, but also something that made her unable to look away. After a moment, a sort of cloud seemed to roll through his expression, as though he was entirely absent from his body for a moment, before he closed his eyes altogether, pinched the bridge of his nose, and looked to the floor.

It took a few moments for Adeline to be able to breathe again, and when she did, it finally fucking clicked.

The words that her mother had said a couple of nights ago came to mind: Benjamin Bahi isn’t the type of boy who you should be involved with Adeline. He’s utter social sabotage waiting to happen. What happens when you go to his house, only to find out that he’s in jail on…aggravated assault charges, or armed robbery charges, or drug charges, AJ — or worse?

Adeline, of course, had said, He’s not like that, Mom. Trust me.

Hm, you think that, AJ, but I’ve been around, her mother had warned. He’s the type.

Fuck you, Mom, AJ had thought, but now that she was here, staring at her wild-eyed boyfriend who was staring at the ground, she finally had to fucking admit to herself: He’s the fucking type.

He was high right now. They were supposed to be on a date — for her fucking birthday, nonetheless — and he was high out of his fucking mind.

"I...I don't understand what's happening. Why am I being yelled at…?” he sad, seemingly more to the floor than to her. “Why are you here?"

Her heart pounded in her chest for a few moments, her anger giving way to something…stranger. Perhaps it was a deeper form of anger than she’d ever experienced, but it felt different entirely. Maybe it was a confusion, maybe it was a forced state of calm before the fucking storm, or maybe it was…a hurt.

“Oh my God,” she said; she realized now that her throat had run dry with absolute revolt. Her hand instinctively reached for her handbag to clutch it for some kind of comfort, but it didn’t find it, so she reached up instead to finger at her heart necklace. “You seriously don’t know why I’m here, do you?” She slowly walked around the couch to stand beside the boy on the ground, and, looking down at him, she asked, in a strange, cold tone, “How fucking high are you, Benj?”

coded by natasha.

hery · Aug 13, 2022

.
.
.
.

filler
couching
home

There was a crunch underneath AJ's foot, halting her menacing march forward. Benji winced, now aware of the full extent of her ire. And then, unnecessarily, she slammed her heel into the floor with a warrior's cry. Strangely enough, it was scarier when the girl was trying to be terrifying. Whether by intention or not, Benji could gauge it from her usage of names... last names, full names and then, finally really hurtful nicknames.

It was ironic how much of a tantrum she was throwing while simultaneously mocking Backyardigans, but Benji was in no position to make the observation, nor was he in an apt mental state to come up with the connection. He jumped in place, his heart doing backflips as the shouting never seemed to end. To say it was overstimulating would be a criminal understatement, and that's saying something from the perspective of a serial felon.

His head bobbed up and down. He couldn't show his face for more than a moment, but it was getting increasingly obvious that he was hiding it. As his lip quivered into a wobbly Charlie Brown smile, he felt his face begin to twitch. Marionette strings pulled the muscles in his face to and fro while ragged breaths pumped out of his mouth by absolutely no effort on his part. He was like an insect, or one of those giant, man-eating cockroaches from cheesy horror flicks.

"Wipe that fucking grin off your face, Benjamin," the blonde commanded, her already diminished patience at an all-time low, "Before I fucking do it myself." Well, couldn't she see he was trying!?

"I'm not laughing!" he insisted with a stifled giggle, which was poorly played off as a choked cough. And as their eyes finally met, a brisk shower of cold ran down his body. He was loopy, but conscious of his thoughts, which commanded that he wiggle his tingling, shaky fingers. It was hard to close them into fists, but it was the only thing he could do to hide the extent of his abuse of drugs.

People don’t recover from these blows to the image. Benji knew that full and well, but what other hopes could he maintain? Drug addiction isn't something forgotten like a clumsy spill or a tasteless joke. It remains on one's record—one's social record. It happened to his dad and his mom and, in some allegorical way, it happened to him, too.

Rage and realization passed over AJ's face like a cloud of smoke, whooshing away to reveal something quieter. It was by no means calm, but Benji could release his breath for just one much-needed moment. Benji had kept it together so long that he had forgotten how painful it was going to be when his girlfriend—whose expectations were higher than a pageant mother—got a glimpse of the real him. And though there was a clear back-and-forth in terms of power in their relationship, the upper-hand had always been shared between them.

And now it was gone. With the rose-colored tint of their The Great Gatsby fantasy cracked into a million shards, all that was visible was a hotter-than-average teenager with nothing but a few dollars and an unruly opioid addiction. That was all there was to it. And though it was clear who was really courting who, there was a confident illusion that kept them on their toes.

"Oh my god," she finally uttered, disgusted and at odds with herself, "You seriously don't know why I'm here, do you?"

Well, fucking stab me in the chest, why don't you, Addie?

She was standing over him now, the blood and emotion all drained from her porcelain face. Benji had every instinct to shrink away further, but he couldn't run from this. She wasn't an idiot. "How fucking high are you, Benj?"

And there it was, the crux of today's show, displayed in blinding neon letters. Though the air hung still and the pitter-patter of his chest came to a halt, Benji twitched once more, his pinpoint eyes looking up at AJ head-on.

His throat was dry and the words leaving his throat left deep, searing scratches. "You know the answer to that." Face to face with his shame, it was thousands of times worse than what he pictured in his head. Everything was fated to come crashing down, but he had pictured the comedown far more down the line than today. And just how she had the mind to show up when she did... Benjamin still hadn't a clue.

"You were never meant to see this," he continued, slowly, carefully. He slid his legs from his torso and placed his feet on the ground, setting his back against the couch cushion. Then, his head fell into his hands, which continued to rub his face. "I'm sorry." It was all he could manage. She had every right to radiate as much pressure as she did, but it wasn't helping him sort his thoughts at all.

The muscled addict's head found its way back up once he gained the strength to really, truly meet her eyes. "When things get out of hand, it's so much easier to—" He shuddered, another tingling wave washing over. "To be that part of yourself in the dark, in private." He swallowed shakily, but nothing could hydrate his hoarse throat. "But this isn't me. And I know what you're thinking, but you have to at least have faith in my word."

Inside, it was like he was being jerked from side to side, every emotion taking center stage only to speed off like a child up to no good. It made him physically nauseous, and he was covered in a cold sweat. But, guiltily, he felt so good. His body was tranquil and relaxed, yet never had it felt so wrong.

"It's just... a stupid pill." His lip quivered, and he bit it down. "I didn't know you were coming. If I knew... If I knew..." What more could he say? She already had all she needed. "Come on, Addie. Don't be like this."

Benji Bahi

adeline

ditto

♡coded by uxie♡

ditto · Aug 13, 2022

Dominicka Abrams

thoughts

her house

gramma murderplot anyone?

clothes

jj (mentions: bj) |

Soap

Everyone kind of thought that she was dumb her whole life, just because she was a girl who cried a lot and cared about her appearance, but the truth was that Nickie knew what was happening around her, even from a young age. When they pulled her out of private piano lessons, she knew that it wasn’t just because she “needed to be around more to help with Nelson and Henry”. When they moved out of their old condominium close to Los Angeles and into a rickety two-story house on the outskirts of Newcastle, she knew that it wasn’t just because her mom “wanted a change of scenery. And when their uncle started coming over more often to have long conversations with her dad and mom, she knew it wasn’t casual conversation happening between them; the few words she would catch through the door as she milled around outside it gave her more than enough information to know what was going on.

So Nickie kind of knew what they were fighting about: Abbey had borrowed money from Jonah for David so he could bolster his business and get it back on its feet — again, and again, and again. Her family was in massive fucking debt, and there was no escaping it, and now Jonah wanted his money.

And knowing what it was about made everything worse.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Shit,” Nickie muttered, sniffling, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, and looking up at her cousin through tear-rimmed eyes. “JJ…,” she said, as a sort of greeting and as a sort of go away.

“Don’t cry over family drama,” JJ said, “literally everyone has it. Be normal and cry over a boy or something. Or like, cry at all — not because I care? You’re just a really ugly crier so please spare us both.”

Nickie’s brows knit together, and she defensively mumbled, “I’m not crying, fuck you,” as she wiped the tears from her wet cheeks and sat up straighter in her dad’s office chair. She watched her cousin walk over to the shelves, tucking in her bottom lip to gnaw on it.

Then, out of nowhere: “Have you ever gotten high before?”

Nickie blinked at her cousin, stunned. “What?” she asked, her brows lowering in confusion.

“I only ask because like, my —” JJ stopped herself short of finishing that sentence, then continued. “Maggie insisted on giving me one of those deformed cigarettes, obvi, I told her I'd never try it in like, a million years."

Nickie slowly nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Uh…huh…”

“Wanna go upstairs, stalk boys on insta and like, get high?" JJ asked.

Nickie stared at JJ for a few moments, dumbfounded, and then burst out laughing. “Wait, wait, wait…” She waved her hand in front of her face, trying to calm down her laughter, and then shook her head. “Let me get this straight. You, like, want me to smoke weed with you? You? The, like, death to all druggies…”

Too mentally exhausted to heckle her cousin, she clicked her tongue dismissively. “Oh, fuck it, I did coke off a bathroom sink once at a party, so what the hell.” She stood up from the office chair, then brushed by JJ with a pat on her shoulder. “They’ll smell it if we, like, smoke it upstairs.” She turned around as she reached the doorway, crossing her arms and smirking proudly. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Turning around and heading up the stairs with a new pep in her step at the promise of the weed, for some reason, Nickie sniffled and rubbed her nose again. There was still the heavy feeling in her chest from her crying that hadn’t gone away, but she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth in her best attempt to suppress it.

She made a sharp right and walked to the door with the giant, wooden, flowery, pink DAM hanging from a command strip on its back. She pulled open the door and stepped inside room behind it, flicking the light on.

The first thing that struck most people about Nickie’s room was the sheer amount of posters, calendars, and random papers that were plastered about all four powder blue walls by a variety of means. The walls looked almost like patchwork quilts, the product of seven years of hardcore fangirling over a variety of teenaged heartthrobs, celebrating new years, and obsessing over major crushes. A Jonas Brother’s poster taped here; a 2013 calendar stuck beside it with a pushpin; a love letter from one of her ex-boyfriends taped over that; a page from a brochure for Colorado glued over his signature; a Zayn Malik poster two feet over; a drawing she did of a flower over the bottom right corner; a receipt from a random date taped nearby; a printed picture of Walter White. Like that, countless pieces of paper covered her walls, to the point that it was difficult to tell what color her walls actually were.

Above her night stand, almost enshrined, was a 2011 JUSTIN BIEBER: NEVER SAY NEVER poster. Her vanity, dresser, trash can, windowsills, closet door, desk, chair, chest-of-drawers, bookshelf, keyboard piano, bed frame, and night stand, all a light gray color, were dotted with stickers and Sharpie graffiti and were covered in at least a feet of junk apiece: makeup, books, glass trinkets, collectable coffee mugs, academic trophies, portable speakers, small stuffed animals, dead headphones, among much, much more. Her bed, unmade, had sheets of various colors Her guitar lay on its back in the middle of her floor, and pushed to the sides of her room were stacks of dirty clothes and dirty socks.

Kicking aside a discarded sweatshirt, Nickie led JJ through her room and to the large window. She pulled aside the flowery curtains, opened up the dusty blinds, and then pulled up the window, the screen to which she had hidden in her closet long ago. Outside the window was a thick tree limb, and she easily stuck her foot out of the window and grabbed onto the limb to pull herself onto it to sit.

After a few moments of adjusting her seat on the limb, she looked back into her room. Looking at JJ and smiling, she patted beside herself on the limb. “See? Perfect place.”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 13, 2022

Sydney Welsh

chasing cars

a boat

kind of thriving, kind of dying

swim trunks

justin |

Winona

"Why would I delete 'em?" Brody asked, chuckling.

Syd took a sip from his beer, his brows knitting. “Why would you keep ‘em, dude?” It would have been almost flattering had it not been a weird ass picture that he wanted burned along with any other evidence that last Halloween ever happened. Why had he even effing brought it up in the first place?

Jeez. His brain and trying to make conversation. Not a great combination.

Brody continued. ”Keeping them just in case one day, you, ya know…”

Syd blinked. “Die?” he guessed.

“Or, rather, we get in a fight or something and I need a little blackmail,” Brody continued. “Or if there's just something I need from you down the road. I'll threaten to release it on Twitter or Instagram or something, or I'll just be like...‘hey, you know that pretty chick in math? Yeah, well SHE'S gonna see it.”

“Hey!” Syd defensively put a hand over his chest, opening his mouth wide as though deeply scorned. “What makes you think you’ll ever need blackmail, guy?” He shook his head shamefully. “Damn, you think you know a guy. Wow.” He gave his chest a couple of taps with a fist, cracking a grin at his friend. “Nah, man, I’m here ’til the end.” He held out his pinky as if to pinky promise. “You know…BFFs5ever, me and you, dude.”

"If you're gonna become famous and shit,” Brody started again, “imagine how much those photos will be worth one day, ya know? Gotta use your brain, Syd.” He took another sip from his beer.

Syd laughed. “Hey, look, man, I’ll have you know my ass is already as valuable as a small precious gemstone.” He paused a moment, then raised a forefinger to correct himself: “Not that it’s small, but you get the point.”

Brody pushed up from the deck of the boat, and Syd looked up at him curiously. "C'mon," he said, inclining his head toward the water, and the boat jostled underneath Syd as Brody walked to the edge of the boat. "It's hot. Wanna swim?"

“Swim?” Sydney repeated. You really want a repeat of last time?

Well, actually, come to think of it, really, that wouldn’t be too bad.

“Sure, yeah,” Syd said. He stared at his beer for a few seconds, debating whether or not to go with his first impulse. With a mumbled, “Fuck it,” he decided to go with it, grabbing the beer and chugging it. He squeezed his eyes shut, barely managing to force the can down before letting out a loud belch, and then another. There was a burning in his eyes. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea, he thought, standing up and taking off his sunglasses. He began to unbutton his Hawaiian shirt as he walked over to the edge of the boat to join Brody. “We could race again, man,” he suggested. “Since, uh, ya know, we didn’t really get to finish last time before I, like, almost died.”

coded by natasha.

Xed · Aug 14, 2022

Spencer Gray

“Well I’m down for trying that one first,” Maggie pointed to the roller coaster, “Before it get’s crowded, then the water one after to cool off you know.”

He nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan.”

“We definitely have to ride these too!” Spencer followed her fingers as they picked out the bumper cars, her eyes beaming with excitement.

“Do you have any favourite rides? Because we need to add those in too if you do!”

Favourites huh? His eyes scanned the map slowly before his finger fell on the viking. “This one.” Perhaps it was because he enjoyed sailing and had fond memories of being out at sea, fishing and watching for dolphins, but the viking had always been one of his favourites. Whenever he took the ride, you could always count on him aiming for the last row of seats on either end of the ship. Those were the spots where you felt the effects of the ride the most, the swing up and the drop down, but he always chose those seats for a different reason. The view. When the viking ship swung up to the peak, it always paused and left you hanging there for a moment. At those points, it was like the world had come to a stop and you got a crystal-clear view of your surroundings, something you couldn’t really get at any other ride except perhaps the ferris wheel, which did not provide the same sensation or… euphoria.

Spencer shook his head laughing as Maggie teased him about his decision to wear black pants, which she was probably right about. He might well be courting disaster with his choice of clothing, which well… maybe it was because they were at the amusement park and the atmosphere it had, but he actually didn’t mind the possibility all that much. A tiny part of him even hoped that disaster would strike. The kind that invited laughter like dropping ice cream on his pants, instead of tears and pain for once. Perhaps that way he could pretend…

The rush of kids running past them towards the ride, turning around to scream for their parents to hurry had Spencer shaking his head again.

“Alright, we really better get going before those kids help derail our plans by increasing the line.”

He begin walking in the direction of the roller coaster and then slowly allowed him to break into a jog as he neared the group of kids, letting loose as he engaged in something of a mini race with the kids, a smile on his face as he glanced back at Maggie to make sure he hadn’t lost her before they got started.

“Come on mommy faster! They’re gonna beat us there!” One of the kids yelled as he pumped his feet, his little face all puffed up and red in his attempt to beat them to the line. Spencer smiled as he slightly lengthened the strides of his jog but kept the pace slow enough for the kid to keep up before slowing down even further just as they reached the line, allowing the kid to reach the back of the queue before him.

“HA! I WON!” The kid yelled triumphantly as he jumped and cheered at the back of the line.

“Man, you’re fit kid. I’m all out of breath from that race.” Spencer said, smiling as he panted a little louder and rested his hands on his knees. “Good job!”

He turned to Maggie apologetically as the boy’s mother and other friends caught up and joined him in the queue.

“Sorry about the extra wait.” He whispered sheepishly as he watched the boy celebrate, a smile of pure delight on his face. If Spencer had really beat him at the end, that smile might well have become a face full of tears or unhappiness instead, or it might not have.

“Don’t be so fool of yourself.” Came the voice in the back of his head. “You’re nothing more than a liar and a fake. You really think you gave the boy true happiness with what you did? No, you just manufactured it, all so you can pretend you’re a good person.”

The smile faded from Spencer’s face as he settled into the queue, blinking as he pulled his eyes away from the boy to look over at Maggie.

“I think I better let you take the lead on getting us to our other rides later, seeing how terribly I’ve performed on this first one.” He joked, trying to keep the mood, mainly his thoughts, lighthearted.

mood
having fun

location
amusement park

outfit
comfy and easy

playing...
WONDER

by Shawn Mendes

mentions
nil

interactions
Maggie

tags

Kitsune2202

º º code by ditto º º

Xed · Aug 14, 2022

Zach Lombardi

She finally touched the shirt, only she wasn’t taking it from him but playing with the collar, and Zach couldn’t keep his eyes from flickering down to watch the movements of her hands against the fabric.

The entire situation was nerve-wrecking. Between Raven’s eyes and her hands and just… everything, especially the lack of distance between them, there was nowhere that was really safe for him to look and the longer they remained in this position, the more he felt like-

Zach’s eyes widened as Raven suddenly leaned in, her lips barely brushing his, stealing the breath from his lungs as she pulled away just before they touched, whispering.

“I want to be wanted.”

The distance between them suddenly widened, his shirt tugged free from his loosened grip and dropped onto a nearby shelf as Raven continued.

“Do you know what that means?”

His brain didn’t have the time or capacity to cobble together an answer.

“No strings doesn’t mean you’re completely off the hook, it just means we aren’t official. It means we can fuck, talk to, or do whatever we please with whomever we please, we reap the benefits without the relationship.”

Right now, the state of his brain was a bit of a mess, but wasn’t that what they had been doing all along?

Talking and hooking up, whenever was convenient without caring if the other was doing the same with anyone else?

If that wasn’t then-

The thoughts disappeared as Raven began to unbutton her vest.

“When I text you to come over, the reply I’m expecting isn’t a thumbs up,” The vest fell away as she took a step closer to him and Zach’s face remained the blank slate it usually was only because he had years of practice and just a natural awkwardness when it came to showing any other expression. The bobble of his adam’s apple and red ears gave away the only clear visual hints as to his state mind, the jumble of nerves she turned him into.

“I don’t want you to pretend like you’re interested,”

He wasn’t pretending and she was… unbuttoning her shirt… coming closer…

“I want you to be disappointed when I change plans,”

The last few buttons were left alone and Zach didn’t know whether he was more relieved or nervous, or what he was feeling really. He focused hard on the sound of her voice to try and keep his brain functioning. They’d hooked up before on several occasions, but not like this, not at work and that unfamiliarity threw him for a loop.

“What I want is for you to want me so badly, you don’t care about anything else.”

That sounded dangerous. Wanting someone to the extent of not caring for anything else.

She pulled back yet again, this time drawing back until she was close to the door.

“Now you can either walk out the door, we go back to being friends and co-workers like nothing ever happened. No hard feelings…”

Return to his life before their arrangement.

“Or…”

Her voice trailed off but her gaze firm and unwavering.

Or…

He contemplated the unspoken offer in his head. His shirt was lying on the shelf, he could take it and leave, head back out of the storeroom and back to where he was supposed to be, behind the bar counter serving drinks. He could also leave it there for Raven and make a stop in the breakroom for a spare shirt before getting back to work.

…Or he could stay…

Zach took a step forward, then another, slowly walking towards the door, towards Raven, his lips pressed together. He came to a stop right in front of her and his hands hesitantly rose towards her shirt, his fingers hovering over the undone buttons, barely grazing them, contemplating whether to button her shirt back up for her.

His eyes zoomed in on the little discs, trying to block out everything else.

To stay… or leave…

He glanced up, his eyes meeting Raven’s, that mesmerizing gaze that was now directed at him, and then he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as his fingers moved down to undo the remaining buttons.

Zach wasn’t experienced by any means, the only thing he could in such moments was follow her instructions, the few clues he could decipher, and, as worrying as this usually felt, especially in social situations… his instincts.

He pulled back for a breath of air and his hands fell away, one landing on the handle of the door. A guy like him and a girl like her, it was a mismatch, even if their arrangement wasn’t a real relationship or anything of the sort and he already messed up once before. Upset her as a result. He wasn’t suited for this kind of thing; he should open the door and walk back out.

Zach hesitated as his hand twisted the nob slightly in his hand… and then pressed the button, the little click of the lock resounding in the quiet room as his face drew closer to hers.

“I can’t pretend nothing’s ever happened.” He admitted quietly before capturing her lips again and slipping her shirt off her shoulders, letting it fall softly to the floor.

mood
fade to black

location
storage room

outfit
shirtless

playing...
nil

by nil

mentions
nil

interactions
Raven

tags

Soap

º º code by ditto º º

Soap · Aug 14, 2022

Mercedes Camus

lover boy

somewhere

something cute

interactions

Matty

0k_mang0

Dear diary,

I can finally do something else that isn’t watching netflix or texting Valerie. Drake and I haven’t talked in forever and honestly, I think i’m scared of fighting with him again. I think tensions were just really high and we said things we didn’t mean, but

I have bigger things to worry about.

I’m being forced to get a JOB.

A JOB.

I’M NOT POOR.
__
“A job?!” Mercedes repeated, a sudden shift of nausea swirling in her stomach, holding the cup of tea with two hands and taking another desperate swig to rid her of the feeling. Though– the idea alone of working at some greased up fast food restaurant only made that worse.

Her mother pursed her lips, glancing over at her father. “We both decided that it’s a good way to teach you some responsibility, since you certainly lack enough common sense–”

“It was an accident! I didn’t even– … you both decided?” The blonde looked towards her father with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. Mercedes’ father had a soft spot that Mer knew how to use to her advantage.

“Mercedes,” Her father warned, Mer stood quiet as a result, she expected him to say anything else except;

“It was my idea.”
__
And on top of that, I have to find the job myself? They couldn’t put me to work filing some boring papers or something? Do you know how many places hire somebody with no experience?

BASICALLY NONE.

I hate my parents.

I hate job hunting.

And i. hate. my. life.
__
Mercedes was technically still grounded, but she was stomach virus free and needed to leave that god-forsaken bedroom she’d been locked in for the past week. Her parents had made an exception when Mercedes had shown a surprising interest in job-hunting. Which was... not fun whatsoever.

"So, I have to..."

"Just make sure everything stays clean."

"What about..." Her gaze shifted towards the restrooms and the woman across from her nodded.

Mercedes left the office pretty quickly, but that wasn't all. She even had a small-practice run at a diner not far from here.

"I'll have the salad."

"Uh, okay... which salad?"

"I don't like your tone, ma'am."

"Ma'am?! How old do you think I am?"

"Twelve."

"I'm sixteen going on seventeen in about a week, so--"

"I didn't ask."

"I guess I'm not gonna ask for your order then."

She didn't get the job.

Everything just wasn't the right fit for her.

She was roaming around town, heading to clothing store to clothing store, bookstore to bookstore in the hopes of finding something that just felt decent enough to spend her time at. Thankfully, this part of Newcastle was blessed enough with a variety of shops, restaurants and whatever else you can imagine.

Mercedes couldn’t take someone’s order, she had no patience for that. Mercedes wasn’t about to clean toilets– she had too weak of a stomach for that.

And finally, Mercedes wasn’t going to make the best of this, there was absolutely no way that–

Empireo-Curio Warehouse;

HELP WANTED.

She’d never shopped there before, but she knew the place.

How?

Well, Matty Manzano worked there. The love of her life. Not actually, but– okay, fine, not yet.

But Mercedes was head over heels for Matty and it was only a secret to… Matty but that was beside the point. She hasn’t seen Matty since he’d gotten back from his vacation with his family– and while she was excited, Mercedes was also… extremely nervous.

She always and usually was around him, and Mer tended to make herself look like the biggest idiot whenever he was around.

Mercedes stood outside of the building, trying to build the courage to walk in by looking at her reflection in the window, fixing her hair and wiping away a little smudged mascara that leaked from the California heat.

The bell announced her presence before she did, walking into the cluttered antique stores with various knick knacks that caught her eye, an old piano was near the front that she ran a hand along but careful not to press any keys.

“Anyone home? Or… hard at work?”

Hard at work?!

Mercedes winced at her words, wiping the dust from her hands on her jeans.

“I uh… saw the help wanted sign…”

The lack of customers was real.

The sign wasn’t lying.

They really needed help.

coded by natasha.

Miaow · Aug 14, 2022

담밓늑

dam minyoung

location

Local Cafe

tags

Winona

Miyu was still a little startled by a pair of fingers tapping her book, but that wasn't Oliver's fault. She was simply too engrossed in her book to notice him coming. She looked up and smiled as she saw who it was. Oliver!

The two sat next to eachother in a couple classes. They'd made a deal: Miyu would help him with the theory stuff and he'd repeat anything she didn't quite catch. Sometimes, their professors simply forgot she was deaf and turned their backs to write on the board, but would keep speaking anyway. Miyu used to mostly sulk about it, then try and fill in the gaps herself. Just stop talking when you turn around, goddamnit!

Anyways, talking to Oliver here was going to be slightly complicated. She hated whispering. She just wasn't very good at it, she'd talk in that dumb whispery voice but about the same volume as normal. She just didn't trust herself in places like libraries. She gave him an equally huge smile back, waving. She paused for a moment. What the hell did she do now? God she could be so awkward. She gestured to the chair next to her with a smile, offering him a seat. Maybe he wanted to... read a book about tarot with her? She didn't know.

code by @Nano

ditto · Aug 15, 2022

Michael Reid

just like you

the gas station/food place

what's wrong bb : (

clothes

nate |

Winona

"Nothing to say," Woods stated simply, after all of that. "She's leaving for a job. End of story.”

Mike didn’t know why he expected an actual explanation from the guy. As much as he deeply revered and respected Woods, the dude spoke about as much as a radio with dead batteries. It was really nice most of the time because, hell, they offset each other really well because Mike really liked the sound of his own voice, but it was at times like these — ya know, when Mike was trying to help the guy out — that it wasn’t such a great thing. “A job…” Mike’s lips pressed into a firm line, one of his brows raising. “Like, a…?” But he paused for a moment, and he kinda realized, ya know, maybe asking the guy directly about what he didn’t really want to think about wouldn’t aid much in getting him to, you know, not be fucking depressed, so after a soft, dismissive sigh, he mumbled, “Nevermind.”

Mike folded his hands in front of himself, looking Woods square in the face. “Woods, I’m going to be entirely honest — you’re breaking my heart here, babro, seriously.” He shook his head shamefully, then reached out to pat his friend on the shoulder. “Look, Woods, I’m going to be straight with you. You paying attention?” He lowered his head to look at his seriously through his eyebrows, and then stated: “What you need is some other pussy.”

With a grin, Mike leaned back against the booth, propping his hands up behind his head. “It’ll get your mind off of things, man, seriously. You get some, and then you’ll realize that, damn, Evie wasn’t worth all of this bullshit, anyway.” He reached out a hand to pat it on the table emphatically, and then gestured to Woods. “I mean, look at you, man. You’re a total fucking hunk — seriously one of the sexiest sonuvabitches out there, got brains and brawn and talent and an ass to kill for — and you’re going to let yourself get down bad over some bitch who’s skipping town?” He cocked his head at him, and then shook his head as an answer to his own question.

He looked down at the bucket of chicken, then nudged it towards Woods. “Or, ya know, we could go get drunk in the park again.” He grinned, reminiscing. “Remember? Like we did in high school that once?” He chuckled, and then added, “‘Cept, uh, you would have to buy the drinks this time.”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 15, 2022

adeline jumper

bubblegum bitch

benji's

...?!

a cute date outfit

benji |

hery

The air was more than tense; it was stale, stagnant, and suffocating.

Adeline knew; Benji knew that she knew.

His expression, past the obvious intoxication present in his eyes and the posture of his mouth, was difficult for her to read, and it took her aback — it was horrifying in a way, and disgusting in many others. He twitched; his lips stuck together as he opened them to speak as if even they knew no words would help. “You know the answer to that,” he said in a scratchy voice.

Of course she fucking did.

Something trembled in her chest, and she drew in a long, deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she struggled to process the information she’d just taken in. A sinking feeling nauseated her for a moment and told her to do a million things: to walk out of the door, drive away, and text him a break up; to call the police and have him hauled away; to sit down beside him and ask him why did you have to prove my fucking mom right. But she did none of those things. Some part of her anchored her heels to the carpet.

When she opened her eyes again, his feet were on the ground and he was leaned back against the couch cushion; was this his family couch? "You were never meant to see this,” he said.

She stared down at his eyes, a burning intensity in her gaze trying to will him to look her in the eyes. “I was never meant to see what, Benji?” She stared down at him, unable to look away from the young man on the floor — the boy who felt more unfamiliar than he ever had to her — though the disgusted feeling in her chest begged her to. “What was I never supposed to see? You?”

His head fell into his hands, and he rubbed his face. "I'm sorry,” he said.

The words sounded pathetic; she didn’t think that she’d ever heard him say them before seriously. “You’re…” A flat laugh came from her and hung dead in the air above them for a moment. “Sorry?”

Her tone said all of the words that she was thinking: Are you kidding me? That’s so pathetic.

There was a long moment of completely dead silence between the two. Past the sort of deafness the stale air had forced, the air conditioner made a weak sound as it shut off; now, it was truly silent in the room.

His head finally lifted, and his pinpoint eyes latched onto hers. Again, she felt her heart give a visceral, involuntary recoil, beating unsteadily for a moment. “When things get out of hand, it’s much easier to —“ He shuddered, and a look of deep disgust slipped through Addie’s expression. ”To be that part of yourself in the dark, in private." She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. "But this isn't me. And I know what you're thinking, but you have to at least have faith in my word. It's just...a stupid pill." His lip quivered; he bit it. "I didn't know you were coming. If I knew...If I knew…” He trailed off, and then said, “Come on, Addie. Don't be like this."

Adeline stared at him for a few moments. Her gaze burned, her lip curled upward, but her expression as a whole was unreadable. There was anger in there, and disgust, and contempt, but there was something more — something that glazed over all of the other emotions and made the whole thing…muddled. “Don’t be like what, Benjamin?” AJ spoke in a flat, cutting tone, her voice trembling at the ends; she made no attempt to control it any longer. “What am I ‘being like’, hm?”

She could feel her skin burning in anger. “I’m someone who just found out that her boyfriend was missing a date she’d reminded him about all fucking week because he was too high out of his goddamn mind to even lift up his head and pull himself together and act like a decent fucking person for a little bit. Is someone like that supposed to just fucking act like it’s all peaches and fucking cream, Bahi?”

Adeline laughed at the absurdity, lifting a hand to her forehead. “God! I came here to pick you up for our date, and now I’m looking at —“ She threw her hand up, gesturing loosely and jerkily at the wall. “Fucking baby pictures of you and your fucking mom staring at both of us while you’re all fucking strung out, looking like you got hit by a fucking truck, dressed like a fucking hobo — beneath fucking family photos!” She had to laugh again — sharply — and then she squeezed her eyes shut, folding her manicured hands over her nose. She hadn’t noticed it until now, but she was shaking; her hands, her legs, they were shaking. When she spoke again, her voice quivered violently. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Benj.” She opened her eyes, locking them onto Benji’s. “Do you want me to fucking suck your dick as thanks for showing me that you’re the exact fucking type my mom thought you were?”

She shook her head. “If I knew, if I knew,” she repeated, and then she scoffed. “If you fucking knew what?” Her eyes pierced into his, her expression stone cold. “I get it, I’m your fucking bottle blonde bitch who was supposed to be kept in the fucking dark about who you really are and what you really fucking get up to, hm?”

For a couple of beats, the shaking, furious, confused, scorned young woman stared murderously down at the boy on the ground, and there was something entirely unpredictable about her stance and countenance, and even she, staring him in the eyes, did not know what her next move would be.

But then, she closed her eyes, and she sank to the floor.

For a very, very, very long moment, she did not move. She neither spoke, nor flinched, nor swayed. She just breathed in very deep breaths, and breathed out very deep breaths, with her eyes closed, her legs slung to the side of her, and her hands folded over her nose.

Then, finally, she turned to look at her boyfriend, who was right beside her. Her eyes held the violent anger of before, but when she spoke, her voice was far more under control. “News flash, Benjiamin Burnout: we’re fucking dating,” she said sharply. “I’m not your friend; I’m your girlfriend. You get the difference?” She leaned forward, then said, in a quieter, almost threatening voice, “Even if you work at a fucking gas station greasy spoon for a living, even if you live with your fucking mom and get high on your fucking couch underneath Little League photos, if you’re going to be a fucking drugged up sack of shit, then be a fucking drugged up sack of shit to my face like a fucking grown up.”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 15, 2022

FELIX BREWER

everybody loves me

a coffee shop

time to "learn"

clothes

minnie (mentions: oliver & bernie) |

Miaow

Felix stared down the bottle of Walmart hair bleach in his hand, seriously debating whether or not to purchase it. He turned the box over, then glanced back up at the price, then looked back down at the box. In his bascart sat a lonely 99-cent loaf of bread, in his wallet sat five crisp one dollar bills and 25 cents in nickels, and in his eyes sat a lover-like longing for the bottle of hair bleach.

Until he had walked into Walmart, the thought had never crossed Felix’s mind that he should go blonde, but now, the notion wouldn’t leave his mind: himself blonde, with his girlfriend on one arm and several other sexy babes fighting to be next in line. He was already hot, but he had now convinced himself that he would be ten times hotter with bleached hair. See, that was the thing: Felix was what they called an impulse buyer — truth be told, he was an impulse everything. But it was because of that that there was another thing: you know, the whole having only $5.25 in his wallet right now.

The hair bleach? $5.87, plus tax.

See, so that left him with two options: 1) call his older brother up and then convince him to come to Walmart and spot him some cash, or 2) leave Walmart with the bread he had but with his heart empty and his life temporarily unfulfilled. There was the shoplifting option, too, but Felix liked to obey the law, for the most part.

With absolutely no desire to call Oliver, Felix, sighing softly, sat the hair bleach back on the display and made his way to the self-checkouts.

Naturally, the Walmart run and the quick stop back by his house to drop off the loaf of bread and pick up his backpack made Felix the usual ten minutes fashionably late to his coffee tutoring session. Look, it wasn’t that Felix was rude or anything — you know that he was as considerate as they came — but he just couldn’t say that he was in any rush to endure torture at the hands of the dreaded subject of mathematics. There was a reason why he failed it in the first place. Besides, it was a pretty well-known fact that he was late to just about everything.

His stepmother said it suited him, which wasn’t really a compliment, come to think of it. Felix wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, honestly. But hey.

The bell above the door chimed cheerfully as Felix stepped through the doorway. Flashing the barista a quick smile, he ordered an almond croissant and a cup of water. Now, carrying the almond croissant on a plate and sipping his water, he scanned the coffee shop for the girl who would be tutoring him today.

With a raise of his brows, he spotted her and started toward her. “Hey,” he called, and he grinned at her and gave a little wave with his elbow. He sat down his plate, then slipped the backpack he was wearing onto the back of the chair. “Hope ya weren’t waiting too long. Wound up gettin’ caught up in something. You know how it goes.”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 15, 2022

Dominicka Abrams

thoughts

her house

boy talk and blazin'

clothes

jj (mentions: hunter, oliver, slater, & jade) |

Soap

JJ reached into her bag and pulled out a baggie, and Nickie laughed. “Oh my God, you seriously have a blunt!” She leaned against the tree’s trunk. “Where did you even fucking get it?”

Seeming to ignore Nickie’s question, JJ threw her purse on the bed and scanned the room for a moment. “Don’t judge the posters,” Nickie said self-consciously, assuming that was what her cousin was doing, but instead, JJ just picked up a lighter.

“If I fall,” JJ said, coming toward the windowsill, “I’m literally gonna murder you.”

Nickie scoffed, rolling her eyes with a laugh. “Oh my God.”

JJ hesitated for a moment, then commenced letting out a rather long stream of unintelligible words beneath her breath as she pulled herself onto the limb to sit beside Nickie. When JJ settled, Nickie gave her a small, sarcastic clap. “Wow, brava, l-o-l,” Nickie said. “You survived to tell the tale.”

JJ put the blunt in her mouth, then lit it…and then, immediately, she took it out of her mouth held it out to Nickie, shaking her head and pursing her lips.

Nickie’s brows knit together in confusion. “What?”

“You smoke it first,” JJ said. “That way if Maggie laced it or something — I don’t die.”

Nickie stared at JJ blankly for a moment, and then laughed and rolled her eyes, giving a scoff. “Oh my God,” she said, reaching out to take the blunt.

“Like the way jesters or whoever the fuck would do for their queens in in the 1800s or something,” JJ explained.

“So you want me to, like, die first?” Nickie asked, studying the blunt before looking at JJ’s face. “Fuck you,” she said, with a laugh and an eye roll, before she placed the end of the blunt in her mouth and took a deep inhale.

Her first instinct was to hack, but, with teary eyes, she choked the cough back for a couple of seconds, holding her breath as well as she could, before she burst into a small coughing fit, releasing the smoke from her lungs. She spent the next half-minute coughing, squeezing her bleary eyes shut. Finally, she reopened her eyes, a tear from the coughing fit rolling down her cheek as she did, and she held out the blunt for her cousin to take. “See?” she said, in a strained voice. “Look, I survived.”

Nickie sighed deeply after JJ took the blunt, leaning over against the tree again. She coughed another small cough, and then closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. She didn’t really remember what smoking weed felt like. She’d done it a few times with her old friend group, but that’d been almost two years now. It wasn’t her drug of choice.

“I was kidding about the, like, coke thing, by the way,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at her cousin, and then she corrected herself. “Well, kind of.” She pursed her lips, looking up through the tree’s green leaves as she tried to recall the exact incident. “I mean, like, they told me, like, it was coke, but it apparently, like…wasn’t?” She cocked her head, then shrugged. “I don’t, like, really know what it actually was. I don’t think it was, like, a drug because it didn’t, like, do anything.” She frowned. “It just, like…burned really bad. My nose bled some, I think…” She shrugged, trying to recall it further as she reached out for the blunt again.

Nickie took another hit, again having to resist a fit of coughs before finally having to give in. It hurt less this time, and she coughed less, and then after she had her little coughing fit, she shrugged again. “I was, like, really drunk, anyway,” she said, and then she sighed. “Well, actually, I wasn’t, like, blackout drunk. But I was, like, tipsy and feeling unstable and a little bit, you know, like, fuck it, my life sucks anyway and I just wanna, like, live, so.” She laughed slightly at the memory, and then the smile slipped off of her face. “It was, like, the same night that…ya know…” I had a kind of fucking public breakdown and slept with one of my best friend’s boyfriends just because I wanted to feel something.

Her free hand reached down to scratch at the bark of the tree. “All that bullshit went down,” she said, in a quieter voice than before. She picked off a piece of bark and held it between her fingers, then looked up at JJ, her volume returning back to normal. “It was, like, right after that, I went to the bathroom to cry and then some guy came in and was like, ’You want some of this?’ But he kind of looked like he was, like, twelve, and, like, I’ve read about coke and that’s, like, not what it’s supposed to, like, taste like or, like, feel like? And then I, like, puked and my, like, nose bled, and then, like, I went and made out with, like, some guy and, like, spilled my whole, like, story of the night to him and he called me a whore. So, like…” She sighed, taking another hit; the same coughing routine occurred, but it was shorter than even the last time had been. “Yeah, like, welcome to my life.”

She held the blunt back out for JJ, then propped her elbow up on the tree and leaned her head on her palm. “You said we were, like, gonna stalk boys?” she said, and then she gasped as a thought popped into her head. “Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t tell you!” she said with a laugh, sitting up straight and reaching out to put a hand on JJ’s shoulder for a second. “Look, so, don’t, like, judge me for this one, but, like…” She laughed again, and then made a motion like she was laying a map out on a table with her hands. “Okay, look, so, like, you know the 4th of July party?” she started, with a smile on her face. “I got there kind of, like, late and also had to, like, monitor my little brothers the whole time. So, like, sorry I didn’t, like, see you or, like, say hi to you — I wasn’t, like, ignoring you or anything. Anyway, but, like, when I got there, I, like, noticed this super, like, buff guy.” She held up an arm and flexed her muscle for emphasis, then dropped it back down. “Like, buff. So, like, I, like, obviously keep, like, staring at him because I realized that, like, it wasn’t just, like, some buff guy. You know who it was? You’re not going to fucking believe this. Are you ready?”

She stared at JJ for a few seconds, assessing whether or not her cousin was truly ready to hear it, and then, with a smile, she finally relented: “It was fucking Hunter Drake, JJ.” Her smile broadened. “You know him? He, like, used to be all scrawny and shit. I think he might be in a grade above me? But, like…anyway. He used to be scrawny back when I was in, like, ninth grade — we were both kinda in the same friend group, you know — so I didn’t, like, think he was hot or anything. Plus, like, I was dating Oliver, so, like, you know, like, I was in love with him, so, like, Hunter wasn’t, like, on my radar.” She shrugged. “But at the 4th of July party, I, like, got the first good look at him that I’d gotten in, like, forever, and…oh my God, JJ, he’s such a total fucking hottie now?” She put a hand on her face. “Like, all buff and shit? I don’t know how I, like, didn’t notice it before.” She cocked her head slightly, correcting herself. “Well, actually, I guess it was probably the, like, boyfriends I had and shit, but, like…” She shrugged. “Anyway, guy’s fucking hot, so, like, I’m staring at him, and then, like, he looks over at me, and we kind of, like, eye each other, and then I, like, realize that, like, he’s so totally into me, right, because, like, he’s gotta be, right? Like, you don’t just, like, stare at someone like that if you’re not, like, into them, right?” She sighed softly. “But then I realized that he was, like, talking to another girl who was, like, super hot, so, like, I don’t know, like. Maybe he’s got, like, a girlfriend or something — which, I mean, doesn’t, like, put him off the table, and…”

She blinked a couple of seconds.

“Oh fuck, I just said that,” she said. “I think it’s the drugs talking; we can call it the drugs.” She flopped her wrist dismissively. “Well, anyway, you know what I mean, right? But he, like, starts to try to come up to me, but then, like, then Aunt Tracy — you know, like, Dad’s kind of crazy sister? The one with all of the lizards? — showed up and kind of, like, took me away in the middle of this to, like, introduce me to her new husband — it’s, like, husband number three, I think. Anyway. So like, yeah.”

She looked at her cousin, a curious expression on her face. “So, like, can you just, like, tell me everything you know about him?” she asked. “Because, like, we were kinda in the same friend group in, like, freshman year, but then, like…you know, you fuck one girl’s boyfriend and suddenly you’re enemy number one, so then we, like, weren’t, so, like…just…what do you know is what I’m asking.”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 16, 2022

Chelsea Kader Freud

Pick Your Poison

his house

sick and confused

pajamas

dex (mentions: mer) |

hery

It was probably actually the real fucking flu.

Chelsea had been sick for the past week. His sister had bounced back easily after one bad night and had even started the job their parents had forced her to get, but Chelsea Freud had just been fucking sick. The nausea was the worst of it, but the muscle weakness and aches gave it a run for its fucking money. On the rare occasions that he felt somewhat better during a given day, he tried to lift small weights, or go on a walk, or even fucking play violin, but he couldn’t do anything for longer than a few minutes before he was just fucking exhausted and miserable again.

Instead, CK was just fucking confined to his room and his bed most of the time, or to the couch up front if he could drag himself downstairs. He could lay down, or if he was really fucking energized, even sit up — wow, how remarkable — and watch a movie, or he could read a book that his brain fog wouldn’t let him process, or he could sleep, and those were practically his only options.

Needless to say, Chelsea was fucking restless, and his general mood was a certain level of pissed off. It was fucking July, and instead of being able to do literally fucking anything else on the summer of his senior year, all he could fucking do was lay around and do fucking nothing.

Yesterday, he was feeling somewhat less nauseated, but still incredibly weak, and he’d stayed in his room most of the day. Fucking unfortunately for him, there was a small problem that he discovered pretty fucking rapidly: his TV box had fucking broken somewhere between last night and the moment he turned it on, and now, for some fucking reason, he wasn’t getting anything but a black error screen. After a half an hour trying to fix his TV himself, he called the help line, and then for two fucking hours sat listening to fucking jazz through his phone speaker that was periodically interrupted by, ”THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. A REPRESENTATIVE WILL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.” Finally, when someone did fucking answer, they basically said that they’d have to send someone out to fix the problem, and it would be another fucking week before someone could come over and fucking fix it. Chelsea had had to fucking resort to searching the house for Blu-Ray discs that they might have, but apparently his mom had decided that the display case with their old DVDs and Blu-Ray discs was an eyesore and had gotten rid of it at some point.

Chelsea could only find one disc: a single fucking copy of 2010’s Shrek Forever After, on Blu-Ray.

When his dad got home, he explained the situation, but there was no fucking help in the fucking house, apparently, and it would just be a week before he could fucking watch anything else.

His sister thought it was fucking hilarious.

Today, his mom had gone to the Pauls’ place to “catch up” with Cindy or whatever the fuck that woman’s name was. Chelsea knew that that just meant that Deirdre was getting wine drunk and probably having sex with the pool boy and whoever else was desperate enough to fuck a married 40-year-old whore. Nicholas had gone to Los Angeles for a meeting, and Mercedes had a fucking job now, so this left Chelsea alone again today, as was typical.

CK must have fallen asleep to Shrek Forever After, because, when he awoke, the first noise that assaulted his ears was the Blu-Ray menu music, looping over and over and fucking over again. He sat up, confused, and glanced at the time; it was midday. It didn’t surprise him at this point — he’d lost all fucking concept of time now that he was stuck in this seemingly never-ending cycling hell of nausea and weakness. He folded his hands over his eyes, rubbing the sleep from them, and then yawned and sighed deeply.

He heard it then: the faint, obnoxious ring ring ring of the front doorbell.

What the hell? Who was trying to fucking visit?

He ran through the mental list of people who he knew had the code to their gate: his parents, Mercedes, fucking Donahue, fucking Valerie, his grandparents —

His stream of thinking was interrupted briefly when he spotted his reflection in the mirror. His skin was still a sickly, pale, green-ish hue, and dark, purple-ish bags had made themselves at home beneath his eyes. His chin, having been unshaven for the past few days, had a gradually darkening shadow on it. He wore the same pajamas that he wore yesterday and the day before.

He was disgusted; he looked away, scoffing, and headed downstairs.

"Open up!" A muffled voice boomed over the sound of a fist pounding against his door. The voice was one that Chelsea could immediately identify: fucking Dexter. Of course it was; he put his forefinger in one of his ears and scowled at the loud noise. “Federal Booby Inspectors! Chelsea Kelsey Rebecca Freud, you're under arrest for black-market hooter smuggling!” There was a smattering of laughter as Chelsea grew closer to the door. "Come out with your hands on your knees...and no vomit. Thank you! I love you."

Knock!

Chelsea tiredly rubbed his eyes with one hand as he weakly opened the door with the other. Squinting at the bright midday light and blinking a few times to adjust to it, he leaned with his forearm against the doorframe, peering at Dex.

“Hooter smuggling…?” Chelsea muttered tiredly, his eyes taking in the view of his numbskulled friend; what the hell were the fucking grocery bags for. “I’m sick, Dexter,” he stated, in his stoic, unamused voice. “What is it?”

coded by natasha.

Soap · Aug 16, 2022

Raven Rivera

Newcastle Post

sigh

something casual

interactions

hery

It was one way to relieve stress.

It was much better than moderate– she’ll give him that. She gave him plenty already so Raven doesn’t have to exaggerate anymore than she already did.

She didn’t feel better.

Not a whole bunch, anyway.

The rest of her work-day went by uneventfully. Filled with the occasional broken-hearted boys, girls, divorcees and business men & women alike. Raven didn’t pay much attention to the customers as her mind was elsewhere.

Stuck in an endless loop of what to do next; what was next? What were the possibilities and the consequences? What else was she going to have to deal with now that things had suddenly gotten more complicated?

Morally she couldn’t kick her mother out, morally she couldn’t tell her that she wasn’t going to help her, morally she couldn’t say to her face that she wanted nothing to do with her.

Her morals were something that were her highest priority out of anything else– because she owed herself that. She promised herself that she wouldn’t end up like her.

“I thought you didn’t have work today?” Andrea said, in the driver's seat of a black 1989 Mercedes Benz.

Raven worked part-time throughout most of high school to afford her own car. The check-engine light had appeared more times than she’d like to admit, but she supposed that’s why she had gotten a good deal on it.

A tiger’s eye crystal swayed from the rearview mirror as her mother drove.

“I took an extra shift, I need the money.”

She had an emergency fund but– well, it was for emergencies for a reason.

Raven liked to pretend like that money didn’t exist so she wouldn’t get too comfortable. Her gaze fell on the speed limit that they were most definitely going past. A ticket or an accident is not where Raven planned for that money to go.

“Could I please drive?” She asked, mid-yawn and using a hand to cover her mouth.

“Estás prácticamente dormido, and why can’t I drive? I have my license, I–

“I’m not, it’s my car, and if you want me to be honest Andi I’m not comfortable with you driving.”

“Sé que no solo me llamaste Andi, why is there no, ‘how was your day, mom,’ por qué no me lo cuentas mamá?”

Raven sighed, her hands falling onto her lap with a thud. It was always the same with her mother– they always went back and forth with conversations like these that’d get them nowhere.

“Okay, ¿cómo fue tu día mami?” Raven asked, almost sickeningly sweet and half-expecting her to drop the conversation there.

“Oh, why thank you for asking,” Andi took one hand off the wheel, her palm on her chest as if she was actually touched by Raven asking.

“I shopped a bit, had some lunch, I talked with that lady at the nail salon–” Raven’s gaze fell to Andrea’s hands that were carefully placed on the steering wheel at the mention.

Unpainted.

“They have an opening.”

“... for an… appointment?” She asked, confusion settling onto her features the only way it usually did, a small crease in between her eyebrows whenever they were furrowed.

“Tsk, a job.” Andrea said, her index tapping on the steering wheel as she waited for the traffic light to turn green.

“Since when are you interested in nails?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Am I supposed to? Are you sure it’s not something you dreamt up?”

“You keep getting on my case for not being around, but you know, I don’t think you were all there mentally especially if you don’t remember–”

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s forgetting how things were.”

A silence sat at Raven’s words and for a moment, she felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe she should be treating her better. Maybe Raven should care how her day was, maybe Raven should pay attention to her more– fight for that mother-daughter relationship that she was robbed of.

Or… maybe that twinge of guilt was because she didn’t give a shit.

The light changed and she drove in silence. Raven glanced at Andrea to gauge if her words were the reason why she went silent.

Emotionless. She didn’t say anything because she had nothing more to say. It was an awkward situation of crawling back to the child you wanted nothing to do with because you needed her.

She didn’t need you.

And it was something that Raven would constantly remind her of.

“Is this the place?”

Newcastle post.

Her gaze lingered on the words in a decorated, smaller font at the bottom of the company’s name;

The voice of the people.

“Yeah, thanks.” She threw her bag around her shoulder and opened the passenger door, “Raven,” Andrea said, she was about to step out when her mother’s hand reached out to touch her arm.

“I didn’t forget, I just don’t know how many times I could apologize for–”

“You’ve never apologized.”

“I have, you know I have so don’t give me that shit.”

“You’ve never meant it, Mom.” Raven said, not bothering to wait for a reply and pulling out of her grasp to leave, slamming the passenger door shut behind her.

~~
It wasn’t the most luxurious of media companies. It was the newspaper of a small town. The people here were small with even smaller dreams.

“Miss Rivera,”

“Rocco, you look ravishing today, still married?” Raven greeted the security guard who was in charge of checking poorly laminated employee identification cards, he shook his head as she handed hers over.

“Unfortunately,” His answer had Raven rolling her eyes, the light-tone in his voice was an indication that he was joking.

The sun-kissed man looked over the ID, his eyes glazed over with disinterest and handed it back to her.

Raven Rivera;
Intern

She’s only been working here for the last three months and so far, it’s been everything short of exciting but she supposed that was a part of the grind, do the scut-work and somehow get rewarded with experience later on.

“I’ve been working here for five years and still don’t know why I’m supposed to check everyone’s IDs. Who’d break into here?”

An amused breath escaped her nose, pocketing her card and brushing past him with a gentle pat on his shoulder. “Knowledge is power, Rocco.”

“I wouldn’t know, I dropped out of high school,” He said, chuckling at his own self-deprecating joke which had made Raven turn around with a smile, continuing to walk backwards as she spoke, “And you’re still smarter than anyone here, me included.” A two-fingered salute was given and Raven was on her way.

The office was riddled with tired, bored and overworked employees who were sitting at their desks. Editors were talking over the latest article and the two biggest gossip hounds were sitting in the small kitchen, eating bland salads and chatting quietly.

Again, the place wasn’t ideal but just being in the vicinity had instilled some sense of hope in her sleep-deprived veins.

The heaviness of her eyelids reminded her of her first task; coffee.

“And she’s divorced,” Raven heard bits of the conversation as she poured liquid energy into the styrofoam cup.

“She just waltzed in from cheese-town and barely made progress as an intern before she got promoted. I don’t know, something just smells fishy about it all.” Somehow, Raven believed leaving high school and entering the adult world would be different.

That there wouldn’t be petty rumors, gossip, or girls like these still in their thirties and getting all hot and bothered over what their co-worker did or didn’t do in their spare time.

They were dripping with envy and Raven could sense it from miles away.

“What if she’s sleeping with–”

Raven cleared her throat and both girls had just taken notice that she was there. The redhead offered a wide, forced and polite smile that she’s definitely practiced in the mirror once or twice.

“Oh, don’t mind me. Please continue.” She said, taking a sip of the bitter drink (Yes, she drank it black.) and allowing her back to rest against the counter, facing them.

“We were just saying that…”

“That…?”

“Kira’s doing such an amazing job, especially since her recent divorce.” Kira had gotten married to her high school sweetheart and it didn’t last. It wasn’t something she liked talking about and it certainly wasn’t something Raven liked hearing about.

It was about a year ago– and she didn’t really know her back then, it’s apparently the only thing Kira was known for. There was probably much more, but the sad story of a young woman was something everyone loved to circle around back to.

“Is that so surprising? That she could be successful without a man– without a relationship?” Raven questioned, her intensity was enough for them to look at her as if she was crazy.

“No, but–”

“But you assume she’s had to sleep with someone to get where she is today?”

“Well–”

“If you spent half the time you do gossiping, maybe you’d actually be something instead of… a couple of secretaries for men who don’t appreciate you.”

…

~

Raven was seated on Kira’s desk. Picking up a pile of files and shifting through them trying to find anything of importance– or the least bit interesting. She was tired of the meaningless scandals and stories that were deemed newsworthy by the writers here.

She supposed she didn’t blame them.

A paycheck was a paycheck and an article was an article, no matter how much it lacked foundation, inspiration, and interest– they were still getting paid.

The only difference between her and them; she’d do their job and then some for free.

“The post is a place that never sleeps they say,”

That’s what they say until everyone has gone home and the office is dark and empty, so there was clearly a flaw in their saying.

“and yet somehow there’s nothing to do.” This budding relationship has gone back and forth for the last few months. After all… Raven was just an intern and she was owed absolutely nothing from any of the higher-ups as she was just here for running errands.

But that didn’t stop her from making casual conversation when the mood struck– there were only so many errands a girl could run before she’s bored.

“Remind me again why you’re still doing paperwork? Weren’t you doing paperwork yesterday? The day before that and… twenty-four hours before that?” Raven had taken another swig of her coffee, desperate to fill that shaky feeling she tended to get in her stomach when she had a lack of sleep.

“Aren’t you bored of having your own groundhog day? Why can’t we find a story? Go… interview that priest or something about that one parade you made me get photos for.”

Ah, yes. The parade. The church had organized a float with a costumed satan.

Enough said.

"Siento que podría volverme loco," Raven's index finger swirled around her head, dropping her hands back on the desk with a thud and a heavy sigh, looking over at Kira.

"And I swear I probably will if you read whatever it is you're reading out loud again."

coded by natasha.

hery · Aug 16, 2022

click! Benji! Benjamin Bahi location home outfit interactions aj tags ditto

good morning...

Benji's lungs were tied like a knot.

He couldn't bring his voice to speak, but his mind was plenty active as AJ's words echoed in his head over and over and over.

"What was I never supposed to see? You?"

The thought wouldn't leave, and the more he focused on it, the more of a bite her fury had. She knew the answer to this one, too. It was obvious. The real curiosity was why she was asking when that was the entire pretense of their relationship—Addie had skeletons just like everyone else. If he'd known those were fair game, things would have been different.

The light in Benji's eyes had long been snuffed by the time he delivered his apology out loud. It's one thing to say "sorry" out of habit, but to really, truly lay one's remorse out on the table? That's a cornerstone in a relationship, and it was quite possibly the first time it had ever happened to the two of them. Of course it was him who had to beg for forgiveness. Because she was so fucking perfect...

Unbelievable. The worst part was that he meant it in full. He needed Addie's forgiveness like he needed an escape from his high, which was originally an escape in and of itself. Yet there the blonde was, her ruby red lips quirked upward in a derisive smile. She was ridiculing him, in all his rock-bottom glory. Had he not been so defeated, an ember of anger would have peeked through his surface.

He shuddered again, his jaw involuntarily hanging open. His body was so relaxed, he could swear his heartbeat was moments away from reaching a full and complete stop. He noticed then that the air conditioner had stopped running and that AJ had fallen silent, thinking whatever godawful things there were to think about him and his—surprise!—depressing livelihood.

And when their eyes met again, Adeline made it clear that he would not escape this time. She was disgusted and she made no attempt at hiding it while he spoke. It was distracting enough to have his mind floating from his grasp, only to be tethered by an unsteady rope. Every time she did that silent thing, or narrowed her eyes, or looked really pensive, Benji could feel his grip loosen. His natural instinct all this time had been to slip away; to how many ends could this girl make him betray his nature?

“Don’t be like what, Benjamin?” she shot back with a chillingly incisive, unmodified tone, “What am I ‘being like’, hm?” Now wasn't the time for fucking semantics, but here she was picking apart each and every one of his words like wasps to prey. She was punishing him. No matter how right she was in doing so, Benji made a note of it. She'd chosen to do things this way and he wouldn't forget it.

“I’m someone who just found out that her boyfriend was missing a date she’d reminded him about all fucking week because he was too high out of his goddamn mind to even lift up his head," she continued, and just when he thought she was done, there was more, "and pull himself together and act like a decent fucking person for a little bit. Is someone like that supposed to just fucking act like it’s all peaches and fucking cream, Bahi?”

"I have a name," he interjected tiredly. She had to know he couldn't stand having her speak to him so flippantly formally. It was no doubt a status thing, because Adeline Jumper was the appellation of one of Newcastle's elite and Benjamin Bahi was a name associated with street corners and peasant lineage. No, it was too simple to just be Benji and Addie, two irreparably flawed small town teenagers. She knew what she was doing.

But now he knew—or, well, remembered—what this was all about. Her birthday date that was actually a make-up for the fact that they hadn't even been public on the day of? Great. One more thing to be objectively wrong about. He was being shouted at, he felt like shit, and he could hardly remain present enough to deal with it. Any sane person would be driven to at least a fraction of the wrath being thrown into his face. "I was tired and I forgot!" he said finally, "I know this may be a little hard for you to conceptualize, but I work from dawn to dusk. My job doesn't end. Today is no different."

He gritted his teeth, dragging every ounce of clarity from his brain by tooth and nail. "I got home, stressed, passed out, and woke up even emptier than the day before. And yeah, I popped a pill. It gives my mind a fucking break from the hell that follows me at every waking—and restful—hour of the day." He was raising his voice, but its volume paled in comparison to all of the noise pounding at his skull. "So what? That makes me a monster?"

And of course, she wasn't done.

Oh, sorry for interrupting.

“God! I came here to pick you up for our date, and now I’m looking at—“ The wall became the center of attention. “Fucking baby pictures of you and your fucking mom staring at both of us while you’re all fucking strung out, looking like you got hit by a fucking truck, dressed like a fucking hobo—" Okay, okay, point taken! "Beneath fucking family photos!”

Well, what other living room did he have? In case she hadn't noticed, the Bahi house had about a tenth of the space Adeline's McFucking mansion had for family portraits. There was no parlor, no treehouse, no escape from the filthy truth that he was living in poverty and would be for a long, long time.

She was shaking, but Benji didn't dare offer any comforts. It was like watching a volcano primed for eruption, all gods in the heavens deaf to the pleas of the land-dwellers below. “I don’t know what you’re expecting, Benj.” There was no hesitation, no reservations for every cutting remark spat out like a set of fangs sinking into his tender, shivering flesh. “Do you want me to fucking suck your dick as thanks for showing me that you’re the exact fucking type my mom thought you were?”

His composure had already started to crack, but now Benji could do nothing to stop his jaw from dropping to the floor. He was visibly shocked but, more than that, a blade had been thrust into his chest, twisting, twisting, and twisting until a hole had been carved where he once sought refuge from the grief he was experiencing. He had nothing to say.

And through her continuous mocking of his sorrow, he glared at the line that had just been crossed. “If I knew, if I knew. If you fucking knew what?” No, she was the one who didn't know. “I get it, I’m your fucking bottle blonde bitch who was supposed to be kept in the fucking dark about who you really are and what you really fucking get up to, hm?”

His back was to the couch, clutching it with both hands like weapons would be drawn at any moment. With AJ, there was no telling what he needed to guard himself from. The only guard that surpassed his own was that of his "bottle blonde bitch", if that's what she wanted to think of herself as. If that's really what she thought he saw her as.

"Well, gee, I never thought you'd ask!" the messy-haired boy retorted, straightening his posture, "You don't want to be in the dark? Then, fine. And while you're at it, do me a favor and stop kidding yourself, because we both put on a front with each other and you know it." No pause, no stuttering. The truth was sobering, even if he was still far from it.

"When I step into that daylight, it's my job to pretend like my body and my life haven't already literally collapsed in on themselves. It's my job to parade around like I don't already have a million irreversible scars to my psyche, because I don't have the time nor the resources to get up and lick my wounds while Mommy and Daddy dote on me with a silver spoon and a participation trophy."

Immediately, Benji stopped caring so much. Even if she was listening, there was no point in saying all that. He was always going to be the fuck-up who fucked up once again. His words didn't change anything, nor would it reverse the way the two of them were feeling. Still, it would have been cathartic in a way had it not been for the fog clouding his brain.

When Addie dropped to the couch, Benji's enraged features eased up a little. It felt like an unspoken truce, like she was promising not to chop anything off for now. “News flash, Benjiamin Burnout: we’re fucking dating,” she said sharply. “I’m not your friend; I’m your girlfriend. You get the difference?” She leaned forward, then said, in a quieter, almost threatening voice, “Even if you work at a fucking gas station greasy spoon for a living, even if you live with your fucking mom and get high on your fucking couch underneath Little League photos, if you’re going to be a fucking drugged up sack of shit, then be a fucking drugged up sack of shit to my face like a fucking grown up.”

"No." He huffed, the clarity in his face highlighting just how grave his chiseled face could appear. "I don't believe we'd be sitting here if that were the case. But that fact never bothered me. Wasn't that the agreement? We both pretend not to notice every single warning sign because it's hidden just half a layer too deep? I didn't know we were dredging all that up now, but since we are, did you get more than you bargained for?"

It was a stupid question to pose. In times like this, Benji couldn't help shooting himself in the foot, but his intuition insisted that it was always going to come out this way. It was all he set himself up for; all he deserved. So crude, so unapologetically shallow. Even so, never did he expect it like this. "Need I remind you that you just broke into my house with French tips," he observed, the least confrontational thing he'd said to her all day, "I'm nowhere near my best right now, but I'm not stupid. And if you're not going to be entirely real with me either, I'm not going to let you control me with the impossible."

And though there wasn't a hint of tranquility in his voice, a piece of the real Benji had returned. "Either your expectations are in another galaxy or you don't even know where they are in the first place. Maybe both. Are you new to this?" It was an honest question from an honest faker.

partyisntover

♡coded by uxie♡

ditto · Aug 16, 2022

adeline jumper

bubblegum bitch

benji's

...

a cute date outfit

benji |

hery

"No."

Adeline stared at him for a moment, her expression completely blank. “Did you just fucking say no?”

"I don't believe we'd be sitting here if that were the case,” Benji said. “But that fact never bothered me. Wasn't that the agreement? We both pretend not to notice every single warning sign because it's hidden just half a layer too deep?”

Addie was silent, her eyes glancing away and falling to the bottle of pills on the coffee table. Several little white tablets had spilled out of the side-turned bottle and rested on a magazine. She couldn’t read the magazine’s title from here, couldn’t see the cover, but she presumed that it was his mother’s.

She couldn’t say that he was wrong. That was the unspoken agreement between them — that they would overlook every fucking red flag because noting it would just mean caring enough to find out, and ”care” wasn’t in the vocabulary of their relationship. But still, somehow, there was something wrong in what he was saying — like he was trying to justify this shit to her.

“I didn't know we were dredging all that up now,” Benji said, “but since we are, did you get more than you bargained for?"

She sighed deeply, gritting her teeth and looking back at her boyfriend. “Benji, are you fucking kidding me?” She shook her head. “I’m not dredging up shit. This was in plain sight. You were sitting in the fucking living room watching a dumb fucking kid’s show while high out of your mind. It’s calling out what’s in plain fucking sight, not dredging up anything.”

"Need I remind you that you just broke into my house with French tips," he said.

“What did you expect me to do?” she asked, but he spoke over her.

“I’m nowhere near my best right now, but I'm not stupid,” he continued. “And if you're not going to be entirely real with me either, I'm not going to let you control me with the impossible."

“The impossible?” she echoed.

"Either your expectations are in another galaxy or you don't even know where they are in the first place. Maybe both. Are you new to this?"

Adeline laughed hollowly, biting the inside of her cheek as she tried to control her temper. Her eyes moved away for a moment as she drew in a deep breath, and then she looked back to Benji. “New to what?” she asked. “New to learning that my fucking boyfriend is a druggie? Yeah, I’m kind of new to that. You’re doing a bang-up fucking job of showing me the ropes, though.”

She breathed out a sigh through her nose, and she looked him in his face; his jaw was slack, and his pupils were still as small as pinpoints, and it soured the saliva in her mouth. With a sharp inhale, she cleared the disgust away enough to talk. “We’ve both got our fucking secrets. We know that — we knew that coming into this fucking relationship. I knew that, Benji, and I never stopped fucking knowing that. That was half of the fucking appeal. We were hot people who fucked and went out on dates and were still practically strangers so that, in the end, when things all went to shit, or when we got tired of it, we could drop each other and nothing would be fucking lost.” She leaned back on her palms, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to find the right enough words, and then she opened her eyes again. “I’m not new to that fucking concept. If you’ll remember, I was the one who fucking asked you to be my boyfriend.” She sighed deeply, looking away and lifting her palm from the carpet to idly rub at one of her nails. “But this is more than that, Benji.”

She couldn’t explain how it was, but it was.

“I’m not asking you to, like, tell me all of your fucking secrets, because I would never do the fucking same.” She shook her head, swallowing, and her eyes moved back to Benji. “But I fucking know this now, Benjamin. There’s no fucking taking back what I saw. Yelling at me for finding this out is…fucking unhinged, and acting like it’s a fucking impossible for you to…”

Her words trailed off, and there was a sudden expression of uncaringness that overcame her face. “Fuck it,” she resolved after a moment, and her posture slumped for a second before she leaned back and laid on the floor, stretching her legs and crossing them at the ankles and placing her hands on her stomach, as if she were gazing at stars in the popcorn ceiling sky. “What’s the point?” she said, her voice having lost the angry passion of before. “I really shouldn’t fucking care this much. So what? You’re acting like I’m fucking crazy, Benji. So what, though? What would you fucking do if you found out I was, like, fucking popping pills on the side when you literally told your own fucking mom that I was nothing like that?”

She sighed deeply, closing her eyes, but she continued to speak to him. “I’m not fucking new to this, Benji,” she said. “If you recall, I dated Mason fucking Rivera. The only thing that I know more about about him than the other people who know his how good he is in bed, and even then, half of the fucking female population knows that. He was good on my arm, I was good on his, and it pissed off my mom and my friends. That was all that was important, and all that still is important.”

She laid there for a long moment, silent, and tried to convince herself not to fucking care about this anymore. So he was her boyfriend who also happened to be a druggie. And? So? He’d been one all along — she just knew about it now.

But there was some part about her that fucking held on.

Damn it, she thought, sitting up, and she sighed. “And now, I fucking found out this, and I can’t stop from caring just a fucking little bit,” she said, looking Benji in the face again. “You think I fucking wanted to find this out, Benji? Like I was just, like, fucking thinking on the way up there that I wanted to find out about my boyfriend’s fucking drug habit?” She sighed. “I’m just saying now that if you hide it, it’s just going to fucking piss me off more.”

She pulled her legs back beneath herself, resting her hand on her calves. “We’ve both got skeletons we hide,” she said, in a calmer voice. “I’ve seen more of yours now than I ever really fucking wanted to. But now that I have, as much as I would love to pretend I never saw it…” She looked him in the eyes. “I can’t trick myself into being a fucking idiot, okay?”

There was something almost weak and girlish about how she said those words, and she fucking hated it; still, she kept the eye contact, resisting the disgusted urge to look away or scowl, and instead just looked at him for a few long moments in complete silence.

Finally, she reached forward with her hand, and, with a single finger, she touched his cheek. He still felt the same, even if he didn’t look the same. Her finger trailed down his face slowly. Her eyes focused on her fingertip, focused on the feeling of his warmth beneath the pad of her finger, the feeling of her fingerprint passing over his pores and not on the look in his eyes or the looseness of his muscles or the slackness of his jaw.

With a pensive tone, she said, “Is that too much to fucking ask?” She breathed out a soft sigh, and then concluded. “We mix like fire and fucking gasoline. We both fucking know it. A little extra dousing won’t do shit in the long run, hm.”

Her finger reached his jaw, and she looked up from her fingertip to his eyes. “I am still really fucking pissed, though,” she said, in an eerily peaceful voice. “Really, really fucking pissed.”

coded by natasha.

Soap · Aug 16, 2022

Juliette Jameson

brutal

Nickie's place

look at his abs

I look good, so.

interactions

Nickie

ditto

“So you want me to, like, die first?” She laughed, earning a shrug from Juliette and her lips thinned to hold back her own laughter.

“If you die, the odds that everything just goes to me in the will is–”

“Fuck you,”

She let out a chuckle and focused her attention on the tree bark under them, picking at it and mildly worrying if it’d cause a rip in her tights. Instantly looking back towards Nickie when she broke into a coughing fit.

Jules has seen enough TV to know that happens when someone smokes weed for the first time. It was completely normal. The only thing she wasn’t really sure of– is how it makes you feel. She was a bit worried about that part.

“See? Look, I survived.”

Her voice was strained and Juliette rolled her eyes, taking the blunt from her with a huff. “I wanted the bad news first.” She said with a raise of her eyebrows, looking towards the street and passing cars as she lifted the blunt to her lips, deciding to just throw her worry away and take a puff.

Unlike Nickie, Jules couldn’t hold her own and started coughing almost instantly. Covering her mouth and waiting for the burn in her chest to subside before taking another hit– this time longer– long enough to allow the smoke to travel through her lungs and not hack up a storm.

JJ cleared her throat, holding back another cough and exhaling the smoke, resulting in stuttered coughs but soon enough it had stopped altogether.

She didn’t really feel anything yet.

“I was kidding about the, like, coke thing, by the way,”

Thank fucking god.

“Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” She questioned, waiting for her cousin to continue.

“I mean, like, they told me, like, it was coke, but it apparently, like…wasn’t?”

Juliette tuned out after she had gotten her reassurance that her cousin wasn’t a crackwhore in the making. The last thing she needed is to worry about that– or to like, stick up for her when the fucking losers came out of the… doomdocks or whatever the fuck it's called.

Nickie was too sensitive.

That much was only confirmed when she had found her crying minutes ago. If family drama got her so fucked up so fast, what the fuck was the lowlifes gonna do out of her? Their insults were as original as their ideas– their style was cheaper than whatever their mother charged men for.

Who was she even talking about? Probably half of Newcastle. There were very few people Juliette enjoyed the company of– and even then she’d never admit that to you. Nickie reached out for the blunt and Jules handed it over, pretending to listen to whatever story she was spitting out.

Maybe that’s all she needed, to just spit all her thoughts or stories or whatever the hell to someone.

Nickie, not JJ.

One way or another her own shit would probably get used against her in some argument with some bitch she wasn’t even interested in fighting with. “It was, like, the same night that…ya know…” She looked at Nickie and away, trying to connect the dots of what she was talking about. “all that bullshit went down,”

“Oh, yeah…”

Obviously she didn’t condone the cheating bullshit. It was a shitty thing to do– like shittiest of shitty. There was nothing Juliette hated more than cheaters.

But this was Nickie.

She'd had gone on to explain the whole story and the only thing Juliette was thinking the entire time was that she had the tendency to spend time with the worst people. There was probably not one relationship that Nickie had that wasn’t toxic in some way.

“Yeah, like, welcome to my life.”

Mine isn’t so great either.

Must run in the family.

“If you accept not-coke in a bathroom again, you’re probably gonna be saying that to a camera– and not like, in a cool way, in like, a juvie documentary type of thing, so, maybe don’t accept coke from twelve year old boys.”

Jules had taken the blunt back, taking another puff longer than the last and had surprisingly only coughed once this go-around. Still didn’t feel much of anything.

“You said we were, like, gonna stalk boys?”

“Yeah, there’s this one–”

Nickie had sat up straight and put a hand on JJ’s shoulder. “Oh, shit, wait, I didn’t tell you!” She laughed, her words made Juliette’s eyes narrow in suspicion and she took the blunt out of her mouth for a split second, removing Nickie’s hand from her shoulder.

“Look, so, don’t, like, judge me for this one, but, like…”

“I probably will, but continue.”

Did you have to like, ash a joint or something? How the hell did this shit work?

"Okay, look, so, like, you know the 4th of July party? I got there kind of, like, late and also had to, like, monitor my little brothers the whole time. So, like, sorry I didn’t, like, see you or, like, say hi to you –”

“I wasn’t there, so it's fine,"

Juliette Jameson wasn’t at a party? Shocker. Yeah, she just didn’t really see the point to going to something she’s been at like, countless times despite her parents explaining that she had to go. The mayor couldn’t be there without his family.

They didn’t even notice that she wasn’t there and Juliette spent her fourth of July with… Maggie of all people mainly in spite of not being allowed to travel outside of Newcastle like she usually does every other summer. It wasn't fucking fair and her parents didn't really give her a real reason why she couldn't except that they needed her here.

It'd look bad.

Oh, bull-fucking-shit. Something was up.

“I wasn’t, like, ignoring you or anything. Anyway, but, like, when I got there, I, like, noticed this super, like, buff guy. Like, buff. So, like, I, like, obviously keep, like, staring at him because I realized that, like, it wasn’t just, like, some buff guy. You know who it was?"

"Hmm?"

"You’re not going to fucking believe this. Are you ready?”

Juliette stared at her cousin emotionless, blinking and waiting for her to continue as she blew out smoke on the opposite side of her.

“Nickie, just fucking tell me.”

Hunter Drake.

Her face contorted in disgust, listening to Nickie rant and rave about a total loser– okay, that’s literally all she knew about him. Well, she knew a little more but in her opinion he wasn’t really relevant whatsoever. Was this like gonna be trash ex-boyfriend no. 5?

Or was it four?

She couldn’t keep track.

Jules was going to ask about her cousin’s crazy aunt because she was much more interested in her new husband than Nickie’s latest obsession but before she could ask, she was asking what she knew about him and JJ handed her the weed with a roll of her eyes.

“He’s a loser, Nicks.” She shrugged, wanting to leave it at that but the look on Nickie’s face made JJ continue with a heavy sigh.

“He’s not really popular or anything, or… well, I guess he is? But he’s popular with the other losers, like the type of people who pretend to be all emo and shit? Like that I guess…”

What else did she know about Hunter Drake?

Gossip was something she intently listened to and spreaded like Damien spreaded his STDs.

“His mom died, his dad remarried… like… I don’t know, I’m pretty sure mom is friends with his stepmother. Like some kind of mayoral thing? His dad owns like, a bunch of mechanic shops or whatever. I-D-K and I don’t really care to find out more.” She snorted at the end of her sentence, the tension in her shoulders had eased up a bunch and she was starting to feel like…

More… calm or something?

Was that a thing? Oh god, was she turning into a fucking pothead? Ew, ew, ew. That was literally so fucking disgusting. "Do whatever you want, but like, I don't know, maybe... work on yourself or some stupid shit, you've dated more guys than I've kissed."

Nickie had barely had the joint for longer than a minute but Juliette had plucked it away from her and taking another puff, inhaling and exhaling.

Disgusting.

“I got the weed from Maggie.” She admitted and held it back out to her.

She knew that Nickie knew Maggie. Probably better than she did by now– they worked together or something at that stupid record label. She wasn’t really surprised that her cousin had managed to gain a contract and while JJ was probably super-fucking-jealous, she pretended like she didn’t really give a fuck.

It was still sort of, maybe kind of impressive?

But whatever. She wasn’t here to talk about Nickie’s loose accomplishments.

Anyway, the Jamesons knew the Darringtons. People with money usually ran with each other in the same groups– and her father wanted to know, keep tabs, or like, at least be in good standing with everyone who had money because… that’s how you network or whatever right? “I told her I wouldn’t use it, but…” JJ’s lips thinned, leaving the silence to speak for itself.

Maggie was… a very weird fucking chick.

“She insisted? She’s so fucking…” Jules avoided saying anything else, failing to find an insulting enough word to describe her. Or maybe the weed was just making her… relax a little. She didn’t really care all that much.

That fire that was usually circling her chest dimmed, finding some sense of calm.

For some reason, Juliette tended to gain the attention of those she didn’t want to be around. It was like they loved her hatred or something. Like they tried to get some kind of rise out of her by annoying her, flirting with her– or just breathing around her.

Maggie had her moments where Juliette didn’t mind her, but that’s… also something she’d never say to her face.

“I mean, you work with her or whatever, so you probably know her better than I do…” She pulled her phone out from inside of her shirt, which was like, not a good idea since like the radiation or some shit from the phone could probably give her breast cancer or something?

At least JJ would have a reason to get implants in the future. She held up a photo of Castor Loannidis. His last name sounded like it came from money and something about it was so familiar but Jules couldn’t place what it was.

“That’s the guy I meant when I said let’s stalk boys on Insta. I don’t really know a lot about him, but he DM’ed me and he has a six-pack, already hotter than Hunter Drake by a landslide, so I win.”

She wanted a fucking boyfriend.

Ever since all that drama with Oliver & Felix, (she prays that they die in a horrific car accident) she missed it all. The dates, the dumb good morning messages-- being kissed.

She just missed being in a relationship.

She was the best version of herself when she was taken.

“I think he might be a loser, but he’s hot– but I don’t want to get involved in something that’ll just end badly, you know? The boys here are either baby-daddies, crackaddicts, or Hunter Drake. I don’t really have a lot of options.”

coded by natasha.

Soap · Aug 16, 2022

Livanna Moore

Rebels

roller-rink

nervous but : D

Evie didn't suggest this

interactions

Toni, Evie

jasmyn

Kitsune2202

“Liv.”

“I can’t find it.”

“I told you it’s in–”

“Can you just come home and find it for me?!” Livanna said, arms outstretched towards Evie’s closet, stomping back to where she had propped the phone up for Evelyn to see where she was looking for the purple top.

"Liv, I'm not getting on a plane just to find a top for this date. If you can't find it, just pick a different one.”

Evie was almost three-thousand miles away and yet somehow Liv still managed to give her a migraine.

“Or, actually, don’t come home– if you want to take the job I mean. And I can’t! I can’t wear a different one. You have bigger boobs than me and there’s no way I can fill that in– But… when are you coming home if you’re not taking the job– which is not me saying that you shouldn’t take the job, I’m just…”

Evie had the habit of telling herself that something wasn’t good for her when in reality– it was probably the only thing that’d put an actual smile on her face.

Whether that thing was Nate or job offers…

“Jesus, Liv,” Evie interrupted, rolling her eyes at the phone screen, “I already told you AND Edwin I haven’t decided anything so can you– relax, okay? I mean, I’ve got a good internship at the magazine…” she started cutting in and out due to the crappy connection of the busy NY streets, though she didn’t notice. “-there's that too. Plus, my online boutique is doing great right now so who knows…“

Truth was this chance in NY was better than all of that. The job, the location, everything about it was perfect. Iit was practically Evie’s dream dangling right in front of her, just waiting on her to take it and honestly, it would push her further in her career than staying in LA ever would.

So, what was stopping her? If you asked her she’d tell you it was just that she didn’t know if it was the best fit or that she didn’t think Ed and Liv could make it a week without her. The latter was partially true but in reality it was much much dumber than that.

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.” Two thumbs up were given to the camera, staring at Evie’s minorly pixelated face due to the sabotage of New York internet.

“Or… whoever you want to do, I’ll support you on that too.”

Liv caught Nathan sneaking out of the apartment when they believed they were in the clear. Apparently Nate came over and the two had… a passionate night in without the knowledge of Ed or Liv.

It was crazy for them to believe that neither Liv or Ed would find out, especially after…

It was a good morning.

Great morning, even. It was fairly early but Liv needed to wake up early that morning for a meeting with her PR team about the way her latest release was going. Fair warning– it wasn’t good.

But she was enjoying a bowl of fruity pebbles at the kitchen counter when a flash of moment caught her eye right as a huge spoonful met her mouth. He didn’t even notice her until he reached the front door, twisting the doorknob and turning her way when he felt her eyes on him.

They made eye-contact.

Liv swallowed.

…

…

…

And right as she opened her mouth to speak, Nate was already out the door. “...Ed!” Liv exclaimed, leaving her bowl on the counter and making a beeline for his room at seven-am too early in the morning.

Evie was adamant on denying her love as well as her hookup with Nate that night. Liv, for the life of her– couldn’t understand why she was so embarrassed. They dated! Surely they’ve slept together before.

“Whoever I want t–” Evie shook her head, “I’m not… I didn’t come out here for a quick weekend fuck. I came out here to go over more of the job details and check out–” she paused, debating whether or not to mention the apartment hunting.

The reality was that Evie’s dad got overly-excited when she told him about the offer and immediately got on the phone with his real estate agent to help his daughter find the perfect place to live. What was she supposed to do? Tell him that she might not even take the once and a lifetime shot to work for one of the biggest designers in the country? Not gonna happen.

Still, Evelyn knew Liv well enough to know that the girl would only hear half of what Evie actually said so trying to explain that to her was honestly just a waste of time. Liv would like assume she had already taken the offer and then she’d blab about it to Ed who would tell fucking Nate and– Not that that even mattered…but it was just a ridiculous mess that the brunette would rather avoid.

“You should just wear that one to the right, the one that’s like halter,” she motioned as best she could through the screen, changing the subject. “It’ll bring out your eyes and it’s not too dressy, for like, the roller–whatever.” she added. “Anyway, I have to go.”

“But Evie–”

“Don’t overdue the glitter eyeshadow this time and if you ruin my stuff I’ll kill you. Ciao!” Evie warned, blowing a kiss to the screen before hanging up. Liv sighed, staring at her reflection in the dark cell-phone screen before looking at Evie’s closet completely defeated and flopped onto the bed face first.

She really hoped Evie wasn’t going to take that job.

~
Submissive and… what the heck did Ed say?

Livanna had no idea how to roller skate. Why did they plan a roller-skating date?

Great question.

One Liv couldn’t answer and it’s definitely an idea she couldn’t say no to. Have you seen Toni? His eyes? His hair? He was like a mixed, gorgeous prince and Liv had heart-eyes at first meeting.

It’s been a long time since she's dated.

Like… four-ish months? That’s a long time, right?

Artie & Liv broke up after her OD and they went off to college. Obviously it wasn’t something Liv wanted but her manager, family, and AA said that recovery was best done sober–

Not sober! Well, no, obviously sober– but she meant single. Recovery was best done single and with platonic support systems since… relationships were sort of tricky on the emotions that could lead to a relapse.

Three months sober meant that she was three months– completely… ready to get it on with a really sexy guy named Toni.

Who didn’t know she was three months sober, but that was completely fine!

She was seated on a bench near the rink, the arcade was booming in the background, the speakers were playing some song that Liv didn’t recognize as she tied up her skates.

It was a super cool place outside of Newcastle so there was definitely way more people here than there would've been back home, but it wasn't something that bothered Livanna too much.

Antonio came back around with his own skates and she glanced at him and away, almost afraid to get caught staring because that'd probably be really creepy of her to do. But you can't blame her-- he was...

Woah.

Liv cleared her throat, gaining the courage to speak.

“Ummmmmmmmm, okay, I have something to tell you…”

Livanna started, lacing up her second roller skate bunny-ears style because that was the easiest– and cutest style imaginable.

She should just do it. Rip the bandaid off.

"Hey, I'm Liv, 17, an addict--"

Ash's voice rang in her head; recovering addict.

Yeah, she wasn't telling him.

He wasn’t learning about her past today. It was the past for a reason! Speaking of reasons... Liv was going to look for every one not to tell him just yet.

“I don’t know how to skate so I’m gonna use that as an excuse to hold your hand, okay?”

coded by natasha.

ditto · Aug 16, 2022

Dominicka Abrams

thoughts

her house

boy talk and blazin'

clothes

jj (mentions: oliver, castor, hunter, slater, bj, ed) |

Soap

JJ rolled her eyes and held out the blunt for Nickie again, and Nickie took it back with pursed lips, studying JJ’s expression. “He’s a loser, Nicks,” JJ said. Nickie’s brows knit together, and JJ sighed heavily. “He’s not really popular or anything, or…well, I guess he is? But he’s popular with the other losers, like the type of people who pretend to be all emo and shit?”

Nickie frowned, then took a hit from the blunt. The pain from inhaling had waned into a mild discomfort, and she only coughed a couple of times. Releasing a cloud of smoke, she sighed. “What’s that supposed to even mean, Jules?”

“Like that I guess…his mom died, his dad remarried…like…I don’t know, I’m pretty sure Mom is friends with his stepmother. Like some kind of mayoral thing? His dad owns like, a bunch of mechanic shops or whatever. I-D-K and I don’t really care to find out more.” JJ gave a snort.

Nickie sighed, rolling her eyes. “He’s not a loser, Jules,” she said. “He’s seriously, like…” She trailed off, losing her words. “I mean, I was just, like, asking because, like…I wanted to know if he was, like, you know, a, like…convicted felon or something. Or, like…I don’t know.”

"Do whatever you want,” JJ said, “but like, I don't know, maybe...work on yourself or some stupid shit, you've dated more guys than I've kissed."

Nickie shot her a glare. “I don’t need to work on myself,” she said. “I’m fine, like — hey.” She interrupted herself as JJ plucked the blunt from her hand and took another hit from it. “You literally could’ve asked,” Nickie said, sighing. “You didn’t even want it, like, to begin with, because you said…whoever it was that gave it to you might have, like, laced it with something. Come on.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and then cocked her head slightly. “Who did you even get it from in the first place?”

“I got the weed from Maggie,” JJ said, handing it back to Nickie.

Nickie took it and took another drag from it. Cough, cough. “You didn’t, like…buy it from her or anything, did you? Like…?”

JJ didn’t really give her an answer for that. “I told her I wouldn’t use it, but…” JJ’s lips thinned. “She insisted? She’s so fucking…”

“So fucking what?” Nickie asked, her brows knitting.

“I mean, you work with her or whatever, so you probably know her better than I do…,” JJ said, reaching into her shirt and pulling out her phone.

“You’re going to get, like, breast cancer and die from doing that,” Nickie said. “I read it online. Like, it’s a big deal-io.”

JJ taped a few things on her screen, then held out a photo for Nickie to see. Nickie squinted, studying the boy on the screen. “That’s the guy I meant when I said let’s stalk boys on Insta,” JJ explained. “I don’t really know a lot about him, but he DM’ed me and he has a six-pack, already hotter than Hunter Drake by a landslide, so I win.”

Nickie leaned forward and cocked her head at the screen, and then looked between JJ and the guy on the screen a few times, trying to determine whether or not they would be a good match. “He’s hot,” Nickie admitted, sitting back from the screen a little bit and passing the blunt back to JJ. “Not, like, Hunter hot, but, like, hot. But, like…I’ve never even seen him. Who even is he? Is he, like, new? In our grade? What?”

JJ started, “I think he might be a loser —“

“Oh, he’s definitely a loser, if I don’t know of him,” Nickie said.

“— but he’s hot — but I don’t want to get involved in something that’ll just end badly, you know?” JJ continued. “The boys here are either baby-daddies, crackaddicts, or Hunter Drake. I don’t really have a lot of options.”

Nickie sighed softly. Everything felt somewhat looser, now that they’d been smoking for a little bit, and that included her lips. “We really do, like, literally always get with the worst fucking guys, don’t we?” she said bluntly, and then she looked over at JJ. “I mean, like…let’s just start with the Brewers, right? Like, you cannot say that was anything but a…” She shook her head. “Shitstorm. Oliver’s brother probably wasn’t bad as Oliver…” Nickie sighed softly. “I mean, like…it was…good while it lasted, for the most part, I guess. But the ending was shit.”

Nickie chuckled slightly. “Then, I dated fucking…Edwin…” Those were two of the best and two of the worst fucking months of her life, and she preferred not to think of them or him if she could avoid it. “And then I dated fucking Justin Jesson, which, like…” She sighed. “Apparently, Mom really liked us, I guess…and then, I…well, I guess I just fucked Damien. And, like…all except for Damien, I mean, like…I loved them, you know? I just, like…picked the fucking worst, you know?”

She folded her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees to hug them tightly. “I just want someone good, JJ,” she said, looking over at her cousin with a forlorn expression in her eyes. “I think Hunter would be, like…good to me. Or, you know, like, good for me.” She sighed softly, dropping her hands from her knees to dangle onto the side of the branch.

After touching the bark, she laughed slightly, looking up through the leaves. It was a sunny day, and the sun filtered through the leaves like they were vivid, rustling green shards of stained glass. “You know, I come out here to cry,” she said, laughing. Now that she was high, the thought was actually pretty funny — the thought of her, sitting in a tree and ugly sobbing while squirrels looked down at her from above. “It’s, like…just a nice spot for that,” she said. She sighed softly, smiling. “And, like…I would take Nelson’s Swiss Army knife sometimes and…”

She looked down at the branch as she recalled that fact, letting her knees sag so that her legs bent like butterfly wings to either side of her. The hands dangling to the side of the branch moved to feel at the bark until her fingers finally found one of the hearts she’d carved into the limb. “DA + OB 4evr,” she read with a small smile, tracing the heart with her fingers before moving to another one. “DA + ES 4evr…” Her hand moved to another one. “DA hearts ES…” And then next, and the next, and the next. “D + E…uhm, Nick + Ed…uh, A + S…” She laughed slightly. “Shit, why are there so many for Ed…?” She smiled over at JJ, and then chuckled. “I think you’re sitting on DA + BJ 4evr.”

Her smile trailed off of her face, leaving her again with a slightly forlorn expression. She brought her knees back up to her chest and her arms back around them to hug them. “I just…want some heart I carve to actually…be true, you know?” she said, and then she shrugged dismissively, dropping her legs back down and kicking them as they dangled. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just high.”

coded by natasha.

hery · Aug 16, 2022

click! Kira! Kira Gauthier location news station outfit interactions raven tags Soap

good morning...

There was mountains of work to do.

Kira was buried in papers, not to mention the droves of emails and pdfs waiting on her computer. She was hunched rather ungracefully into her work, scribbling madly all while shoving stray hairs out of her grimacing face. And while her speedy handwriting still turned out neat and pretty like a schoolgirl's biology notes, the sound of her fingertips tap-tapping away on the computer was a grating, ugly sound.

No one was begging to have a desk adjacent to Kira, not when her workspace was a virtual black hole of stress and organized chaos. Every so often between a strongly-worded digital correspondence, the fiery young woman would take a substantial gulp of cream and sugar (oh, and coffee) before diving back into another tangent on the web. There were so many hidden stories in Newcastle just waiting to be given the time of day, but here Kira was doing grunt work for journalists as they idled about in the break room and played solitaire at their desks.

It wasn't fair. She toiled constantly, working through her bitter divorce all to be elevated to a position higher than an intern only in name. Sure, she wasn't fetching coffee and buzzing in guests anymore, but it wasn't any less demeaning. At least she had a desk now. Even off the clock, she was glued to it finishing up her senior schoolwork, which would hopefully reach an early end in the winter. That would show Remy, the deadbeat loser. How dare he show his face on her home turf.

After a yawn and a long stretch, Kira's vision wandered around the room, catching a man's eye in the corner of the office. "Don't you have work to be doing, Gerald?" she said beneath her breath, scowling in his direction. The man couldn't keep his eyes to himself, but what was new around here?

With a sigh, Kira stalked away from her cluttered desk and to the kitchen area, shoving her finger repeatedly at the coffee machine until it started brewing her fuel for the day. In high school, it would have been alcoholic seltzers. In Wisconsin it would have been nothing, because old habits are easier to break when you're convinced you're in love. But here she was now, fully aware of the girl she always was in the end.

A few other workers were loitering around the kitchen, and Kira was painfully aware as she poured her coffee that their gazes were resting on the back of her head. She turned around and met their eyes with a ferocious, but casual leer. Suddenly, the whispers in the room seemed to dissipate. How odd.

"Harpies," she murmured, mixing her cream and sugar with a popsicle stick.

And when she was back to her desk—her happy place, her sanctuary—there was Raven, paging through one of the many of the manila folders stacked beside her monitor. She was an actual intern at the paper. A friendly face. It didn't come as a shred of surprise that she'd made her home on top of her desk and likely a bunch of important, now much warmer documents.

"You're a real go-getter today," she mused, offering the girl no formal greeting as her attention darted straight for the computer. She took a seat, resuming her responsibilities without a second thought for the girl in her presence.

"The post is a place," Raven started, and Kira joined her for the end of the quote, "that never sleeps, they say." Yeah, if the post was Kira and not the bunch of bozos asleep in their private offices as they spoke. She laughed quietly, flipping through a file and scanning the sloppy notes photo-copied on the page.

"And yet somehow," the intern continued, "there's nothing to do."

"You could bring me a banana from the breakroom."

"Remind me again why you’re still doing paperwork? Weren’t you doing paperwork yesterday? The day before that and… twenty-four hours before that?"

"Well, Raven." Once again, Kira made no move to meet Raven's eyes. She was busy. "Growing up is accepting that sorting papers is a lucky job to have. It's practical and, if I stick with Pilates, my back won't break until I'm in my 50s." Checking a few boxes and scrawling her signature on another work form, she blew a strand of hair away from her eyes. "I don't mind it."

But that wasn't enough for her. Kira watched her down more coffee, catching what was perhaps a frown etched across her make-upped face. “Aren’t you bored of having your own groundhog day? Why can’t we find a story? Go… interview that priest or something about that one parade you made me get photos for.”

She shook her head, squinting to read fine print at the bottom of a paper. "No, that story's over. It's been too long and the news is too concerned about the mayor's campaign on non-secular equity to defame the local church." She held the paper up to the light, mumbling a butchered reading of the tiny print on the page. "Sorry," she added, "Maybe next time."

"Siento que podría volverme loco."

"You know I took French in school."

And as always, Raven wasn't finished. "And I swear I probably will if you read whatever it is you're reading out loud again." Could she not see she was working? And without reading glasses?

With a heavy, exasperated sigh, Kira dropped the paper on her desk and jerked her head to face the intern seated beside her. "Fine, Raven," she breathed, gesturing over to the duplex of desks to their right, "Go talk to Peterson and Fritz. If you haven't been listening, they've been going on about some story at the mayor's office all morning. Maybe do some recon or something." She gave a stressed, forced smile, then shoved her face back in her papers.

homemade dynamite

♡coded by uxie♡

jasmyn · Aug 16, 2022

@ d a d d y j

location

all over the place.

outfit

click to see the fit.

interactions

benji

hery

Jade Jennings ~ 18

The sirens faded into the background, masked behind the passing cars and dogs barking in a nearby backyard. Jade's hands gripped the cold metal of the chainlink fence, pulling herself up enough to launch her body over in. She stumbled a bit, nearly falling on her ass, but by some miracle, she managed to catch her balance and took off through the grassy field.

Taking a quick turn around the corner just for extra measure, Jade finally came to a halt in front of Big V's Liquor Stop. She peeked behind her to be sure no one had caught up to her, but as far as she could tell, it was all clear, so she leaned back against the wall.

No, she wasn't running from the cops this time. The sirens were a coincidence. She was actually running from a very pissed-off gentleman who apparently did give a crap about his broke down motorcycle. Who knew? He wasn't very happy when he caught Jade trying to steal it but just her luck he was WAY too slow to catch her.

As she attempted to get her breathing back to normal, she heard feet approaching, causing her to perk up. A mischievous smirk found its way onto her lips as a man, probably freshly 21, walked up to the building. What? She'd only had like half a bottle of vodka before she dropped and broke it trying to get away from the big guy.

Now she was ride-less and vodka-less, so she needed a replacement for one of the two, and this guy seemed just the right amount of naive to buy her a new bottle. "Yeah, man, I just forgot my wallet and..." she explained, hoping he'd feel bad for her, and obviously, it worked. "I can totally cashapp you," she was lying through her teeth, but he didn't know that. By the time he did figure it out she'd be on the other side of town, so not her problem.

As she waited outside the liquor store, her phone started buzzing in her pocket. Twenty plus messages, some from Raven, others from Maggie, and a few Twitter tags from Benji. She didn't really get their sudden concern or whatever it was. Okay, maybe today...or the past few weeks... she had been a little more out of control than usual, but it wasn't a huge deal.

Apparently, her therapist, aka Raven, thought that she was "acting out" and "drinking the problems away." which just wasn't true. Jade didn't even have any problems, so what the fuck.

Her head jerked in the direction of the bell sound as the door to the liquor store opened back up. Sucker. Fifteen minutes later, she was downing a quarter of the liquid on a park swing while the guy from the store was probably complaining to his friends that he got scammed out of twenty bucks or whatever it cost him for this shitty vodka.

Jade earned glares from some of the mothers at the playground, but she wasn't entirely sure if it was due to the alcohol; she was drinking straight from the bottle, the loud music blaring from her phone speaker or the very revealing clothing she had on in front of their children.

"Cheers whorebagsss," she said, looking them dead in the eye as she raised the bottle into the hair, spilling some of the drink as she did with a shit-eating-grin plastered on her face.

Who were they to fucking judge her anyway? A bunch of over-the-hill, miserable hags chasing their demon children up the slide all day, going home to their boring husbands who were probably fucking the secretary or something. Clearly, they were jealous of how fucking good she looked and how fucking free she was or whatever.

Like Blake the stupid cockatoo or her little minion-like friends, that ballet bitch and Hickie Nickie. Were they even friends? She didn't know but they were all practically copies of each other with different faces. And whatever, maybe they weren't actually jealous, but they were still a bunch of bitches. Calling her a used-up whore like their mothers weren't all probably used-up whores that basically fucked their way into being trophy wives and shit.

They thought they were any better because they had some money? Big fucking deal. Whatever. She didn't care. Even if Raven thought she did and was trying to do that weird psychology shit to her.

The truth was Raven only even cared because they got arrested and had that like fallout or something...it's like she fucking pitied her now or felt like she had to watch over her. It was bullshit. Jade didn't need to be lectured or have a fucking babysitter; she was fucking fine. Clearly.

Another glance at her phone to see the few missed calls from Benji, a text from Deo... nothing from... whatever, it didn't matter. Then came yet another ping from Raven: Are you still angry about Mason and his hookup?

Why the hell would Jade give a shit about Mason's stupid hookup? It wasn't like they were dating. It wasn't like she wanted to date him either. She didn't give a shit who he hooked up; it wasn't like they were a goddamn couple despite a few weird rumors saying otherwise.

Is it about the cousins? I’m confused.

You just seem more… irritated than normal.

As many texts as Jade sent insisting that Raven was reading into her reckless behavior too much and trying to derail the conversation, her "former" friend's persistence was too much for the very cross-faded Jade.

I fucking tried. You don't get it.

You didn't try hard enough.

That did it. Before Jade knew it, a wall of text, half the words misspelled, was suddenly staring her back with a little sent icon underneath. She didn't even have a chance to think about deleting it, so all she could do was hope Raven would gloss over half the shit she said. It probably didn't make much sense anyway.

"Fucks sake..." she muttered. It was just drunk rambling. It didn't mean anything. So what? Artie left. People left all the time. It fucking happened. And Mason was a dick. What's new? People on the internet called her a whore? She literally didn't give a shit. And if she was pregnant, then well...

Maybe not after the vodka! --- And that was the last message she sent before Raven left the chat. It was just a joke...kind of. She slid her finger over, wondering who she could bother next, landing on her favorite drug dealer's contact when something distracted her. She didn't even notice when she managed to hit the FaceTime button under his name accidentally.

"You can't be here; you need to leave."

Jade's head whipped around in the direction of the annoying high-pitched voice. Her bloodshot eyes landed on some Karen and her cult pack walking up to the swing set though she wasn't sure if there were three of five of them. "Says who? It’s a free fucking park, isn’t it?" she countered.

"Yeah but... You aren't allowed to have alcohol on these grounds. It's against the law."

"Yeah, and we already called the cops! They are on the way, so you sho..."

"Be careful, Anne; you don't know what drugs she's on. She might attac-"

"Ladies, ladies, please. I don't see why we can't alllllll share the park. Milfs gotta stick together, right?" she joked stopping the swing from moving with the heels of her converse.

"Oh god, please tell me you're not a mother. That poor kid."

“Probably left it home alone to come work the corners.”

"We don't want our children exposed to prostitutes. Don't they have plac..."

"Oh fuck off, Little Suzie Homemaker. No one gives a shit about your crotch gremlins," she snapped back. "And at least I'd fucking give more of a shit about my kid than harassing some random drunk bitch on the swing, you fucking skank," she finally snapped, hopping off the swing and splashing some vodka on one of the moms in the process.

“That’s it. You’re going to jail”

“Ooo. If you wanted me in handcuffs, all you had to do was ask.” she winked, a look of disgust crossing the woman’s face.

"Gross. I don't want to catc-" she started to argue, but Jade just interrupted. "It's okay to admit that your husband isn't fucking you good enough, Suze. I'd be more than happy to...fill in," she smirked, nearly falling over as she tilted her head back to laugh at her own joke.

Clearly, they didn't find it as funny because the group marched their way back over to their little bitchy headquarters by the picnic tables. "Kiss my drunk ass!" she yelled out, holding up her middle fingers and garnering even more attention from the other park-goers than she needed to right now.

"Hello??? Hello??? Jade--" the muffled voice led her over to her phone, which had gotten buried in some mulch beneath the swing. "BENNY BOYYYYYY, WHERE ARE YOU MANNNN. YOU'RE MISSING ALL THE ACTION!!!" she said; despite being able to understand the girl, it was very obvious she was pretty drunk.

coded by natasha.

Realistic or Modern Newcastle (Open!!)

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

the fool

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

Running Wild

Running Wild

faisons un vœu

Bad job, Superstar!

faisons un vœu

the fool

Bad job, Superstar!

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

still kicking :)

faisons un vœu

the fool

still kicking :)

faisons un vœu

faisons un vœu

still kicking :)

the fool

f r e e b i r d

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