semi hiatus

indie roleplay blog, by leah. open to plotting. multi-muse, multi-verse, multi-whatever.

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sierramused:

                             He had a point, she knew it deep in her gut. It was only a matter of time before he brought it up and quizzed her on what they were, and crumble whatever good thing they had remaining. It was why she never let herself get attached in the first place, or ever let someone in close enough to feel the warmth that radiated from her body longer than an hour or so tops. She wasn’t exactly sure just how Ethan managed to weasel his way in through the cracks, but he had. He was staying longer, spending more time with her outside of getting beneath each other’s clothes. It was dangerous, and the feeling of a lump forming in her throat only reminded her what exactly she was getting herself into. “It doesn’t matter what I am to you or you are to me, Ethan. We got into this on a mutual agreement this was what we both wanted.” The raven haired girl stepped back and created a reasonable amount of distance between the two, before she was turning to grasp the thin material that was her shirt, yanking it over her head. “What, do you want me to tell you that you make me nervous? Or that you can be so goddamn annoying that I can’t stop thinking about you throughout the day? Because I’m not going to, no. I can’t. You know those kind of things aren’t me.”

What was Ethan really hoping to get out of his admission and inquiry? He must’ve known, definitely deep, deep down, that there wasn’t much he could get out of it. He had come to know over the course of the last couple months or so that of all the things Callie was or could be was stubborn. Once she set her mind to something, that was the default and there was no turning back. He had to take a chance though, didn’t he? It would seem as though Ethan was living on chances these days, so why would this be any different? However, what he expected to come from Callie was vastly different from what he was currently hearing. Reaching for his shirt just a few seconds shy of Callie grabbing her own, he put the damn thing on and listened to what she was saying. Was he actually hearing the words being said or were they some sort of fiction he’d made up to sooth his ego? God, she’s stubborn, he thought, unsure if he should be irked by the fact or in awe of that level of determination. Since she made it so clear she wasn’t about to start shit that wasn’t the original no string attached arrangement (despite the damning evidence of a possibility for more), Ethan knew he shouldn’t be talking her into starting a whole relationship with him. She had to come to that conclusion herself. Something about prodding the bear came to mind when he thought of trying to convince Callie of an alternative. “Hmm, that’s fair,” he said, putting a rest to the matter. “You can’t feel things you don’t want to. That’s fair...” At this point, Ethan knew that if he kept talking that his hurt self would just say stuff that was hurtful. That was the way it was, wasn’t it? Projecting your own feelings so you wouldn’t be alone in this void people called life. Taking a cue from Callie, he furthered the distance between them and went in search for his shirt. 

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deterioate‌:

                    ━   closed starter ( @bratpackage )

           Part of the reason Marcus felt he and Kristin kept coming back to each other was the fact that they were always around each other. Being such close friends with her brother made it almost impossible for the two not to bump into each other from time to time. There was also something thrilling about seeing someone in secret. They had this whole relationship, this whole on and off thing that no one really knew about because Marcus didn’t want to ruin his friendship with her brother. That was possibly one of the many reason they didn’t work. A secret is only thrilling for so long before it get tiring and strains any relationship. Unable to help himself from going to Kristin’s place, Marcus found himself at her doorstep with her brother’s arm around his shoulders as he held onto the male so he didn’t pass out on the ground. Once the door was answered, they were quick to help his intoxicated friend get to bed before they found themselves in Kristin’s room. Pushing the door open slightly, Marcus leaned against the door frame. “I didn’t know where else to bring him, thanks for helping.” Looking back towards the room his friend was in, Marcus walked further into Kristin’s room. “You know, I kinda miss this. Just us, alone. I miss you.” 

The last person Kristin expected to see at her door was exactly the person she saw when she opened it. When she saw her brother on his arm, Kristin only sighed. What was it about twenty-something former frat boys that just couldn’t curb their drinking? She held the door open for the two to cross her threshold and she helped to bring her very intoxicated brother into the bed her currently out of town roommate normally used. Kristin made sure to put a blanket over Charlie and put a glass of water on the bedside table with matching Tylenol for when he woke up. She left Marcus in the room with her brother to go back into her bedroom. She barely sat on the edge of her bed when Marcus crept into her room. “Yeah, sure. Did his team win another game or something?” she asked. She hadn’t really kept up with Charlie’s whole professional athlete thing; she had grad school to worry about. “Marcus... Don’t. You might not be as drunk as Charlie is, so should know this is not a great idea.”

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deterioate:

                 closed starter ( @bratpackage )

Despite Elijah taking his job as seriously as he did, he did respect Paulina for what she decided to do. She had to do things her way and he got that. Possibly if he was a different kind of man he’d join her, taking a note for her book but Elijah wasn’t a different kind of man. That didn’t mean that they didn’t keep up the friendship they developed. It was hard to throw out someone that you spent years with. He was with her night and day, they were partners. Working on case after case together and honestly Eli would take her back in a instant. She was ten times the detective than his current and new partner. Then again, if Paulina knew anything going on these days she’d probably punch Eli in the jaw, telling him he was a dumb ass for getting as distracted as he was getting by a pretty girl. 

As if it was clockwork, the two sat in the bar with drinks in their hands. It was something that’d never change between the two. They’d always be the type of people that sat and had a drink together. “You know I can’t tell you anything.” He said raising a brow at his friend while taking a sip from his glass. “If I give you information on any of my cases to help you out with what you’re doing, I could get into trouble and suspended.” It was the same old speech Eli had said over and over again. It didn’t matter how many times he said it, she always get him to talk. It went back to him trusting her because she was his partner for so long. It’s not like it didn’t go both ways though. If Elijah needed something he knew Paulina had information about, he’d go to her and after pulling some teeth, she’d more than likely say something as well. 

Paulina liked having a roster of people from the force she could count on for some information. It usually came at a cost but didn’t all things cost something? She placed Elijah pretty high up on her list because she knew him the best, despite herself refusing the admit that she did. Paulina didn’t really like dealing with all that feelings shit; she thought it would keep her from doing her 100% best at her job. But as she sat there with him, her guard was somewhat down (whether it was from the trust she had in Elijah or the fact that she was about four beers in, it was hard to tell).  

“Come on, man,” she coaxed, poking him in the side. “You know I’m not here for work.” She raised her drink toward him, showing it as her number one reason as to why she wasn’t on the clock. “I’m just curious about that new case. Sounds pretty fucked up, from what I’ve seen on the news. And seeing the wife talk on TV? Fuck, man. She obviously did it. I looked her up. She was some nobody artist from Arizona or whatever. And to see her rocking her Louboutins and ugly but standard black mourning widow Chanel dress?  Woman just wanted that man’s coin.” 

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deterioate:

                 closed starter ( @bratpackage )

Noah was pretty good at keeping things to himself even if those things were how he felt. He did his best to hold things in, especially if they were selfish or even petty. He wasn’t the type of guy that let himself drown in pettiness or even act selfishly towards things. It wasn’t right and he’d been around selfish and petty people too much in his life. From his parents who’d rather ruin themselves than take care of their family, to his sister who’d rather run away than face her issues, to the line of people that’d hurt him in the past due to selfish reasons. Noah was over it and he promised himself he’d never be that way. The question was, what things should he keep his mouth shut about and what things should he say? That was where the difficulties with Noah came to light because he never wanted to come off as selfish person or like he was all about himself so he ended up never getting anything he wanted. He put everyone ahead of himself. Noah had a great head on his shoulders, especially coming from the home life he came from but he’d always had the issue of being too cautious. 

There was one person Noah could talk to about everything though and that person happened to be one of his best friends, Gabriel. He knew the male wouldn’t judge him too harshly and once he got it out and said something to his best friend he was usually fine. He’d go back to ignoring what he was feeling and suck it up like he thought he should. Eating the meal in front of him, Noah couldn’t help but let out a small laugh and shake his head. “I just don’t know what she’s doing with that guy, you know?” The statement came out a little randomly but to Noah it was anything but random. It was something he’d been thinking about for days. “Am I the only one that thinks Asher is a douchebag?” The male questioned before taking a small bite of his food. Once swallowing it he shrugged his shoulders trying to get himself to shut up. He really was being the guy he didn’t want to be… Or that’s what it was coming off as. In all honesty, he wasn’t trying to be petty. He was more concerned than trying to be bitter about the girl he was practically in love with seeing another guy. 

In all the years that Gabe knew Noah, it was startlingly apparent that the guy kept a lot of things bottled up. Whether it was in the way Noah’s eyebrows creased as if that was their natural state or the way Noah sometimes opened his mouth and, with a sigh and an almost imperceptible shake of his head, closed it again, Gabriel just knew that his friend thought a lot, thought too much and never stopped thinking. Or feeling, for that matter. And being the concerned friend he always was, Gabe felt relieved every time Noah opened up to him. Even if his friend was starting to sound pretty pathetic, which he kind of was at the moment. 

Gabe felt in a way that he was responsible for it, although Gabe pretty much wanted credit for anything. He had simply made Noah wait fifteen extra minutes for his food because the perfectionist in him thought the food could look prettier before serving it. Listening to Noah speak, Gabriel nodded knowingly. His knowledge of the situation had been severely limited to everything Noah told him, which made him pretty biased. “Bro, I’ve never met that Asher dude, remember?” he reminded Noah. “But if he’s the dick you say he is, why aren’t you telling this girl about it? She deserves to know, right?”

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atlxsiisms:

“Okay, so I know it’s not big deal, but it’s to me. So spill the beans.” It had been another long day at the bar, and Leona was wiping down glasses that Adam was sending her way. She wasn’t a nosy needed to know everything, but given that she worked with the same guy day in and day out, it was only fair to strike up a conversation with him. He seemed easy to talk to, when he wasn’t working. Which was almost always. “Do you ever take a break? Like, do you ever pause and think of the ingredients in a cocktail? Or are you just that well-versed with the menu?” 

It wasn’t like Leona to do a lot of talking either. They didn’t call her Broody Davis all through high school for nothing. But like she rationalised, it was only fair to get to know her co-workers better. The girl decided to pull up a chair, subtly rubbing her aching knee while she did so. “Spill already.”

The questions Adam was hearing from his co-worker sounded odd to Adam. But when he thought about it, wasn’t that what all small talk sounded like? Odd and distorted, and was totally not the kind of way to get to know people. As he finished off with the last glass, he turned to Leona and shrugged simply. “I don’t know,” he stated in his obvious confusion. “But when you put it like that, I guess... I don’t know, maybe thinking about this menial stuff is a better alternative to my truly effed up thoughts. And no one really wants that now, huh?” 

@nyxwrote

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deterioate:

Zayn knew he screwed everything up with Quinn. That was the point when he’d first saw her. That was Zayn’s motive anytime he used a line on a girl or spun whatever other lies he spun. It was the point of Zayn charming a girl into liking him, it was all for the end verdict that he’d break her heart and get some sick thrill out of it. Maybe it wasn’t the heartache that was so thrilling to him? Maybe that’s just what he told himself so he wouldn’t see how lowly he thought of himself but the truth was he wanted to break their hearts because it was a reminder that he wasn’t good enough for anyone. That he was as sad as he really was on the inside. That he burned everything he touched. It was like an arsonist. Everyone thinks they get a thrill from watching the flames they started burn when really they’re just waiting for the moment the flames engulf them as well. Nevertheless, the point was that broken people were fucking stupid and selfish. At least that was the case for Zayn and he’d become okay with that. He’d become used to being this horrible person that manipulated, hurt others, and hurt himself but ever since his view on Quinn began to change, he hadn’t been able to be this version of himself that he’d let himself become so comfortable being. 

Zayn didn’t want to hurt Quinn and he found himself needing to be around her because without her he was lost. Zayn had always been lost but now… Now it was a lot more noticeable without Quinn. He didn’t know the first thing about handling whatever it was he was feeling for the woman but all he knew was what he was feeling lead him to her doorstep. Listening to her, Zayn shook his head. He wanted to say something but the words wouldn’t form. He looked almost as tired as her. It was probably the first time Zayn had ever been unwilling to run his mouth. Talking was something he was good at. He was the type of guy that could talk himself out of anything or find amusement in how chaotic he could make things by a few words but right now he felt like he had a dozen cotton balls in his throat. Following her inside, Zayn closed the door behind him before following her in and watching as she laid on the couch. “I’m sorr–” He’d never been good at apologies. Walking closer to her, he knelled down next to the couch, tempted to raised his hand and touch her but stopped himself. “I can’t…” Zayn answered, he was too selfish to give her a break. “I’m– I’m messed up and I need you and I can’t just… Let you go.” He said, keeping his eyes on hers. “You told me once that if I changed maybe things would be different and maybe you don’t remember that because you were drunk but I never forgot.” Rising his hand up, Zayn wiped the pads of his fingers under his eye. Trying to get rid of the heaviness but also lightness he felt from everything he was feeling mixed with the alcohol in his system. This time moving his eyes downcast, which was unusually for Zayn being that he was great at keeping eye contact. “You make me wanna be a better person and that scares me, it scared me… So I said and did all those horrible things to you… I shouldn’t have… I’m an idiot.” 

Based on Quinn’s stellar experience dealing with drunken members of her family and of dealing with a similar brand of patient, she knew that there was a threshold. It was only up to a certain point that people could still be taken for at their word and after which, things started to dwindle. She had a feeling by the way Zayn wasn’t quite meeting her ayes or how his words could barely even make it to the surface that things here were beyond his capacity (or possibly even lack thereof) for truth. Quinn stifled the scoff that threatened to come out upon hearing him speak. Quinn had long since taken off the pretty boy rose colored glasses she once donned for Zayn and bullshit was easier to see in 20/20. How did she not see it before? she wondered to herself, and soon enough followed that train of thought with one in which Zayn made it look pretty damn easy for him to let her go. It might’ve transpired almost a year ago now but Quinn would’ve been a fool to not admit that it still stung a little when she thought of it. 

Willing the soft pang of pain to go away, Quinn sat upright and looked at where Zayn sat before her. “It’s hard to buy what you’re selling when you reek of a liquor store, Zayn,” she informed, having resolved on steeling her emotions toward him for the time being. “Water on tap is good. The hall bathroom has Advil in he cupboard. Just... try to sober up and try not go get into trouble, okay?” she pointed toward the places she mentioned, although not needing to. She  knew the man had been here enough times to know where things are. “And maybe you can even practice saying the words I’m sorry or I apologize for being a total jackass by tomorrow morning and maybe I could consider thinking about you again. I’m still deciding.” Quinn got up from the couch and patted the cushions. “Hope this is comfortable enough for your movie star standards, Lloyd. We’re not the Four Seasons, but we try.” 

[atlxsiisms]

skype call → bad ideas squad

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atlxsiisms:

@bratpackage

Group call  → video call 

CONNECTING

( Jem is online )

CALLING

( Noah is online )

“Well, I missed you fuckers. Thanks for blowing my phone up with the texts, by the way.”

“Well, it was very fucking nice of you to let us know that you didn’t die in a ditch, asshole. Hey Noah.” 

“Can we please limit our use of the word fuck? Some of us actually work. And work with children. Did you know that? Anyway, how are you, Tris?”

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gracrps:

                    The social structure of high school always provided such great entertainment for Oliver. The cliques, the drama, and –let’s not forget– gossip always provided motivation for him to get up in the morning. Before Oliver had entered his first public school (officially) he always thought the education system was pretty straightforward. You go to class, learn a little something, then take a test. The male figured he’d make a friend or two, possibly find some eye candy along the way, it was no big deal. The world was his oyster. What he didn’t account for, was how insanely identical this particular high school was, to that of a romantic comedy. He didn’t think cliques were real, not to mention the ranking that followed. So you could imagine, when Oliver first heard of Stella, how invested he was to get to know her better. He had heard of the rumours of the most popular girl in school, who seemed to now be the most hated –so to speak– in over the course of a year. It wasn’t necessarily what she had done, but what she had become… so he’s heard. As quoted by one of the guys in the locker room, ‘She changed overnight.’ Needless to say, Stella peaked his interest, and knowing Oliver and his incredibly nosey personality, he wanted in. When the guys had proposed a dare for someone to ask her out, the male was immediately interested. Oliver had gone through a plethora of challenges in his short eighteen years, what damage could a girl do? And so, the brunette watched her for a few days to devise the perfect plan to get her to fall for him. Sure, he wasn’t all that experienced in wooing a lady, but how hard could it be? Mama always said to be yourself, so what could go wrong? “I can’t be here?” He answered with a cheeky smile, walking in front of her so she couldn’t leave right away. “I want to get to know you Stella, is that such a crime?”

Stella was admittedly over the whole high school bullshit. She wanted to get through all her classes as easily as possible, hopefully avoiding any and all forced interaction with her headache-inducing classmates. Her attitude about this had been made very apparent to most of her classmates, with one startlingly bad exception: Oliver. He didn’t seem to get the hint that she had no interest in getting to know him or talking to him whatsoever. Why can’t he just leave me alone? Stella thought as she tried to walk around him. Her attempt proved futile when Oliver made it apparent that she wasn’t getting anywhere away from him just yet. Stealing a glance at him, Stella rolled her eyes so far back and so exaggeratedly. She might as well join the drama club with her flair for excess. Although, how else could that not have been her reaction when he was doing that fucking smile as if he was in any way flattering her? “No, but it should be,” she answered dryly. “What do you really want, Oliver?” Before Stella could even consider the question raised, she’d already said it. Apparently, her lack of sleep and better judgment let her curiosity just slip a tiny bit at the moment. She wanted to rectify that immediately but again, curiosity overtook her. 

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deterioate:

                          closed starter ( @bratpackage )

The first time Noah had met Francesca, he never imagined that they’d become as close as they had. She was honestly one of his best friends. Other than his little brothers six year old voice in his head telling him that he was his best friend. It was the honest truth that the people that popped into his head when he thought about those he really cared about were Gabriel and Francesca. He didn’t know where he’d be without them - probably alone in all honesty. Being that Noah didn’t have a television in his dorm room, he had his phone sitting face up on his bed with a movie running on it while the two friends worked on whatever work they had. If Noah was a different type of guy he’d probably take this moment they were both laying on his bed watching a movie as a moment to make a move on the one girl he’d had a crush on since what seemed like forever but he didn’t. Instead he tried his hardest to ignore the way his heart was pounding when looking at or even being around the girl. 

Moving slightly, Noah accidentally brushed his hand against hers. There was a brief moment when he let his hand linger on the skin before pulling it away, getting out of her space despite the bed being small and the accidental touches being completely innocent. He didn’t know if he made it awkward or if the lingering was noticeable but he couldn’t help but clear his throat. Trying to get out of his own head while letting out a small laugh. “I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to focus with a movie on. Math got ten times harder when trying to watch this cheesy rom-com.” 

As Francesca ran her pen over the words of the book she was reading, she silently told herself to not overthink the situation. It was basically the same as crying wolf. Francesca was the capital of overthinking; she was Olympic gold medal good at overthinking. Her mind ran with the thoughts that she was in bed with Noah--of course not in that way. Never in that way. It shouldn’t even be in the realm of possibility because he was her best friend and what the hell was she even thinking? For starters, that would require Noah to like her in any sort of manner resembling romance but that sounded wildly implausible to Francesca. She never considered herself to be the kind of person people would like in that way. Anyway, much of her mental rhetoric got in the way of her actually studying. She’d been examining the same quarter of a page for the last fifteen minutes and could not for the life of her tell you what she had read. She might as well be scribbling his name in hearts if she wanted to be more painfully obvious that this whole Noah thing was distracting her. 

And before she could even consider the possibility of not being distracted, Francesca zeroed in on the fact that Noah’s careless hand brushed over hers. She wasn’t sure if she was simply willing it to or if it actually lingered there for a few seconds more that necessary. The second Noah started speaking, she glanced sideways at him, grinning. “Are you implying that the rom-com actually reeled you in?” she asked teasingly, attempting as best she could to sound normal. Or as close as Francesca ever got to normal. “Did any of that old school Julia Roberts flair tug at your heartstrings, Noah?” She shifted so she could glance at his notes. “Let me help you out,” she offered, making a motion for him to hand his papers to her.

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alaskawritcs:

@bratpackage 

      “You know there is only an extent I can work my magic on me being a lawyer right?” Tony questioned Iris as if this was always happening when he had to talk some people out of filing some type of law suit towards them. He was rather more cautious when it came to doing something out of his comfort zone, also the fact his job at the law firm where he met half the town was on the line, and just the fact he was raised by a strict father. 

As Tony spoke and Iris listened, she continued to snack on her cheap Cheetos. She had to laugh at what he said. It honestly amused her how guys saw things all the wrong way, and this was such the case as with Tony. “Come on, Gandalf,” she teased, peering up at him from her perch on his kitchen counter. “The people believe in you. Are you really going to let them down like that?”

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deterioate:

                       closed starter ( @bratpackage )

As soon as Elijah saw the woman he knew she was trouble and that’s why he was so confused as to why he wanted to give her the time of day? Obviously he blamed that on the fact that she was the lead suspect in his investigation. He told himself that he let her into his home, let her come in to talk because he wants to figure her out for the case and the case only. Was that true? Partially, the only thing was if it was completely true Eli would follow protocol. He wouldn’t let the woman in the way he did. He wouldn’t let her talk to him the way she did as if she could run circles around him or even flirt with him. Elijah would simply tell her that she could talk to him at the station and leave it at that. The thing was there was clearly something between the two, whether it sexual tension or curiosity or a little of both - it was there and it was wrong for the lead detective to have the thoughts he was having about his lead suspect. 

Sitting across from the girl, Elijah leaned forward and narrowed his eyes slightly. “This isn’t some Gone Girl remake, you can’t bat your eyelashes and manipulate me. I gotta be honest with you-” shaking his head a little, Eli shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly while tapping his fingers against the glass in his hand filled with bourbon. “You’re looking pretty guilty. The thing I don’t get is why you’d come to me? That’s the thing making me question it all. Why risk it? It’s either incredibly smart or stupid.” He hated himself in that moment. Elijah had always been the type of man that took his job seriously. It was the one thing about him that he understood. It was him. It was his life. His job was his life but he hated himself for finding the woman in front of him so attractive. He hated himself for letting her get in his head despite the fact that he’d deny it.

Elaine never made it easy for anyone. Or at the very least, that was what she told herself. It was probably why her father left shortly after she was born and decided not long after that to make a brand new family, one that didn’t involve her or her mother. She spent her entire life then wreaking havoc where she went. Hell, it was probably why she ended up in this sticky mess of a situation. She couldn’t bear to look at newspapers anymore, especially when her smiling face kept getting plastered onto them and allegations were being made about her involvement in her husband’s death. Death, as if his passing was blase of any sort. Some days, she woke up from another nightmare sequence of her finding his body the way it was in the living room of their penthouse. Some nights she just didn’t sleep. 

And just like clockwork, tonight was deemed to be one of those sleepless nights. It was how she even she found herself in the detective’s house that night. Found was the operating word here, being that it was so simple to just throw a couple hundred bucks from her dead husband’s gifted bank account to her to one seedy private detective to find this place. Peering at Elijah’s glass of bourbon, Elaine silently wished he had offered her the same. Instead, she sighed and leaned back into his chair. “Why is it so hard for you guys to consider the obvious alternative?” she questioned, shifting her gaze to look straight into his eyes. “Maybe I’m innocent.” The slight edge in her voice hinted that maybe she wasn’t innocent in all other aspects, particularly about her sudden visit to the--let’s face it--ridiculously attractive detective. 

[bratpackage]

deterioate:

                 closed starter ( @bratpackage )

After everything that went down with Zayn and Quinn, Zayn wasn’t sure what to do. He went a couple weeks staying off the radar, doing his own thing. Giving Quinn what she wanted and staying away. Zayn found himself going back to old habits. Hooking up with girls, drinking, partying, getting himself into trouble, living life as the bad boy actor with all eyes on him like he always did. What he wasn’t expecting was for it to be so hard for him. He couldn’t help but think about Quinn in everything he did or think about how she was imprinted in his head. It was screwing with him. He’d never felt something for a girl the way he felt for Quinn and he didn’t know how to handle those feelings in all honesty. It was doing all kinds of things to his head. Drinking didn’t do anything but make him feel more fucked in the head, when he was with a girl he couldn’t help but think about Quinn and how he’d rather be with her, the parties weren’t filling the void he had inside of him as much as they normally did. Zayn deep down was a sad person, he’d always been. He’d always wore masks to hide the weak person inside but as of lately he just felt like he was going even more insane than normal. Like he was having emotion overload and it was too much for him. With the issues he always had and the feelings he was dealing with that he had for Quinn, it felt like too much. He was better at being emotionally unavailable.

It was possibly the worst decision Zayn could make but he found himself standing in front of Quinn’s door as he waited for her to answer. Honestly, he didn’t know if she’d see it was him and pretend she wasn’t there or tell him to leave? but he was tired and a little wasted, all sense went out the window. Once the door opened Zayn stepped back slightly. “Can you please give me a second chance?” The words left his lips so quickly he couldn’t stop them and honestly he didn’t know if he would? Not with the way the whiskey was rushing through him. It took liquid courage to a whole new level. Especially for someone like Zayn who was actually great at keeping in anything real. There was a big chance he’d regret his words later. He hated coming off a vulnerable idiot. He’d rather come off as a dick, queue why Zayn was the way he was. 

After a long grueling day, all Quinn wanted to do was forget the word surgery for a night and just go to bed. Sadly that wasn’t going to be the case tonight. Just as she had slipped into her very tempting, very comfortable bed for the night, she heard a rap at her front door. Honestly, who the hell had zero decency and came over to people’s houses at this damned time of night? Figuring it was simply one of her drunk cousins looking for a couch to crash on after an excursion of hard partying from one of the fancy bars down the street, Quinn didn’t think it a big deal to come to her door in a worse for wear Oxford sweatshirt and barely there sleeping shorts. As she had come to open the door, she knew she was right on one count. Finding Zayn there, she was right on the part of somebody who had zero decency, but wrong on the count that she was in appropriate attire to be greeting guests. She pulled down on her shorts as if the act would somehow create more fabric, but alas it didn’t work. 

Quinn barely caught the tail end of Zayn’s words, only to give him a quizzical look in response. “If you knew anything, anything about me, Zayn, other than maybe where to stick it in,” she began, laughing dryly. Jesus fucking Christ, she was too damn tired for this, but something about the way Zayn looked and sounded gave her pause for a moment. “You would know that I’m all for second chances. But I think you don’t get you’re already coming onto your--what?--fourth? Maybe fifth chance here?” She sounded just as tired and resigned as she felt. Without motioning for him to come inside, she simply left the door open and padded soundlessly over to her couch. She wanted to sink into soft pillowy things and pretend she didn’t have to deal with this now. As she rested her head on the arm of the couch, Quinn looked up at Zayn when he followed her in. “Telling me it was all about the sex, coming into my work and treating nurses like shit, coming into my work and looking like shit, showing up to my house at ungodly hours, probably drunk as sin...” she ticked off the things she remembered him doing. “Can you please give me a break?” Her tone mimicked his from before when Zayn was simply standing at her doorstep. 

[bratpackage]

deterioate:

There was a time when Luca wasn’t as closed off as he was now. He was more open about his life and his feelings but ever since he was put in the position of having to deal with a cheating wife and a brother that’d hurt him the way he did, he found it hard to trust anyone. It seemed easy to keep things to himself. It was almost as if he was putting up walls to protect himself when really he was making it impossible for anyone to really know him again. Then there was Jessica, Luca hadn’t told her much about his life or the things going on in it other than different things about his job but the woman knew him better than anyone. If he looked at her and said “he was fine” there was a chance she’d be one of the people that’d be able to tell that something was off because of how well she knew him - or because of how well she knew the boy he was back when they dated. They may have been different people from those young teenagers but those people were still inside of them. Luca should’ve seen that, he should’ve seen that she still knew him. Knew when something wasn’t right or even when he was putting up a wall. That wall being a way to hide things about himself. It was something the male felt guilty about. He had feelings for Jessica. They came crashing back the moment he saw her again but he also felt like he was lying to her by not telling her he was going through a divorce, not telling her that he was practically married still. She never asked but it still felt… Wrong. 

Leaning into her touch, Luca couldn’t help but smile softly before raising his hand and cupping his over hers before dropping it when she dropped hers. “I get it, you don’t have to explain.” Giving her a small nod, Luca did get it. Exes weren’t supposed to get back together, there was always a reason a couple broke up and they usually didn’t work in the long run… Right? Or was that the reason she couldn’t? Luca was trying his best to understand and he didn’t really want to question it. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. “You’ll always be the one that got away, Jessica Grier.” Smiling once again so she’d think he was joking around with her, even if that wasn’t true and he meant ever word. Luca really didn’t want to ruin anything. If he couldn’t have her the way he really wanted, he’d take her as a friend. Then again, could he be her friend? Could he really be her friend without losing his mind? Noticing that she was switching the subject, Luca shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t say there’s any future MJ’s but there are definitely some potential headbangers.” 

Hearing his next words, Jessica felt the immediate need to leave. How could she, though, being that this was her apartment? No, it felt like she had to leave in the same manner she did all those years ago--to completely uproot her life once more and find herself in some foreign place where she knew no one and no one knew her. It might’ve seemed like a drastic reaction, but it was the first thought in her mind. Why? One could ask why that was her immediate need, but Jess didn’t even know herself. It probably had to do with not wanting to let anyone down, and in this case, Luca. Despite his joking manner, Jess had the faintest feeling that Luca wasn’t quite as go with the flow about the situation as she wanted to be. The one that got away, my ass, she thought to herself. Patting her hands down her pants legs to suggest that she was getting up, she heaved a sigh. “You want something to drink?” she asked as she stood up. She barely waited for a response before walking over to the kitchen and leaning against the counter for a good few seconds. “I’ll go get you some juice.”

“Headbangers?” she questioned from where she stood, calling out to Luca a room away. “You headbanging would really be quite the sight for sore eyes, Wolfe.” Standing in a different room to him, Jess regained whatever ease she could. It wasn’t a lot if she was being honest. Part of her felt like she was eighteen again, with the twenty times rehearsed breakup speech in her head for the one person she knew she didn’t want to break up with. Jess sighed once more and walked over to the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade and poured some out into a glass. Walking back into the front room, Jess took a deep breath. “Here you go,” she said, placing the glass on the coffee table fronting the couch. “You know, maybe it’s not such a good idea we keep hanging out? It’s cool to know there’s a familiar face around a new city, but...” But what? What exactly was Jess’s reason for abruptly ending this would-be friendship with her old ex-boyfriend? “But you obviously want something more here, and I’m not in a position to give it, I guess?” 

[badflowxr]

QUINN LACROIX.

Quinn absolutely despised it when people could not get a hint, much like Zayn wasn’t getting any of hers. It wasn’t like she was skirting around anything or whatever. She was being upfront and point blank with him. Why did he have to be so persistent? Maybe she should’ve known this about him if she took maybe just a couple of minutes of reading his IMDB profile or something, right? But Quinn was so far up her own ass about her getting rid of him from her life, and that also meant no sort of contact with him digitally either (no matter how good Google images of him turned up).

At first Quinn was simply your typical brand of rolling her eyes, half eye contact annoyed at this little exchange, but as Zayn tried to wear her down, she finally started to get downright frustrated. “Don’t use whatever I can to push you away?” she scoffed his words back at him, looking him squarely in the eyes. Unbeknownst to her, she’d clenched her hand tightly into a fist, fingernails digging right into her skin. “Oh, baby. I don’t need to do that. You pushed me away all on your own. Do you not get that?” She turned her back toward him, making her way toward the door. The fifteen second walk was just about enough time for her to gather herself and relieve some of her frustration.  “And you don’t just get to show up at my work and pull this on me. It probably means nothing to you, because you don’t get what it’s like to have an actual job, but it’s a really shitty thing to do, Zayn.” Once she reached the door and got herself halfway through it, she turned back toward him. “You still need to get yourself fixed up though, so I’m going to call someone else in here to help you with that,” she said softly, looking not directly at him but probably someplace over his left shoulder. “And please don’t be an ass.”

Zayn could scream at the top of his lungs that he never wanted to hurt her but it would’ve been a lie. He wanted to hurt her, there was something bad in him that craved for that kind of pain. The only difference with Quinn was he regretted what he did to her after he did it, he regretted hurting her. Zayn didn’t want to be that guy that craved the hurt, he didn’t want to be the guy that used people like pawns in his life, not to her. That was why he came back, he wanted to make things right because around her he was a better person or maybe he wasn’t a better person… but he wanted to be a better person for her. Zayn knew he wasn’t a good person and Quinn deserved someone good, she deserved someone great and smart, someone talented and kind. Someone that wasn’t Zayn but Zayn was stubborn and he wanted her. What he shouldn’t have been surprised by was the rejection he was facing. It was as if he went in expecting it but it still hit him like a dozen bricks to the face. Hell, the pain from the bruises and scratches on his face and hands didn’t hurt as badly as the way his head and chest felt. It was uncomfortable and completely invisible to everyone else’s eyes. 

Zayn’s eyes were blank while she spoke. Maybe if he showed some sort of hurt or even truth that told her something or anything more than he’d already said. Maybe she’d be able to see the glimmer of truth rather than the stream of lies that followed when it came to Zayn Lloyd but it was as if it was one of the many walls or masks that Zayn wore. His eyes went blank to protect himself, to feel as if he was still in control of the situation and himself when really he wasn’t. Not even in the slightest. “I know.” Was all he could muster up to say which was a new for Zayn. Keeping the same look on his face before sitting back down on the hospital bed. There was a part of him that wanted to keep fighting her. That’s who Zayn was. When he wanted something or someone he would fight until he went blue in the face. He was a determined person and nothing could stop him when he had his mind set but possibly it was because this had to do with real feelings? Something he wasn’t used to? Supposedly it was because this had to do with his heart and he didn’t know how to properly function or be because of that. When she turned back around a little but kept her eyes off him Zayn was tempted to tell her the three little words that he’d never said and meant but the words got caught in his throat and he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it. Instead he let his eyes fall from her and down to the floor. Was this what it felt like to have your heartbroken because if it was Zayn wasn’t a fan. Which was ironic being that all he did was break hearts. 

[bratpackage]

deterioate:

Luca was trying his hardest to be the most supportive and understanding guy he could be. To put it gently, he knew what most drunken nights that lead to sex meant to at least half of the party involved. There was always one or sometimes both that regretted the whole situation and then there was the other the didn’t regret anything. It wasn’t his first rodeo and he had a feeling that things were working out more in the favor of Jessica slightly regretting what happened and Luca not regretting it for a second. The point was, he was trying to be supportive of what she wanted but as well as he wore the smile on his face there was something in his eyes that were screaming for her to say she wanted him back the way he wanted her back. Would it be stupid? Luca knew first hand how messy it was to try and work things out with an ex but Jessica was different. They didn’t end in a huge explosion. They let each other go because they had to go live their lives… Now they were back and it seemed a little like… Fate. Was fate the right word? It seemed a little optimistic and like a fairy tale of sorts but when it came to Jessica the romantic in Luca came out. 

Laughing, he knew he could be one of the people running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Actually Luca was a hard worker and he let a lot of the weight of work fall on his shoulders. It made things stressful but luckily he did love his job. Or more so he loved the end product of his job despite the stress. Sitting down next to her Luca couldn’t help himself when taking her hand in his. It seemed like a reflex. Muscle memory even. It felt right. Listening to her he took a small breath at her words. They weren’t what he wanted to hear but he really didn’t want to push her. He wanted to be what she needed but he couldn’t help the way his eyes went from slightly lit around her to dropping slightly. Forcing himself to smile a little he shook his head before nodding right after. “No, no yeah of course. We are friends. We’ll always be friends.” Would they? Had they ever been just friends? Was it possibly for Luca to be just friends with Jessica? “I just - I had to know where you stood, you know? See where we stood.” Keeping her hand in his, he ran his thumb over the top of hers, not wanting to let go just yet. “I don’t regret it though.” The words slipped out – he really wasn’t great at the whole shaking it off and being okay with the friendzone, was he? Had to say something. Looking at her he lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Just so you know, I don’t regret what happened.” 

Jess was still in the process of getting her life in order. She was neurotic and had a set list of things she wanted to accomplish and dealing with the complicated implications of rekindling an old flame was never a part of it. It wasn't like being with Luca was ever complicated. No, in fact being with him was one of the easiest things imaginable. It was just that in all the weeks they had spent catching up over the last ten years, Jess felt like she had barely scratched the surface with him. Along with the fact of Jessica's being neurotic, she had the absolute misfortune of being an open book. She never shied from her feelings, her past or any minute detail of herself. She could remember every instance of her filling Luca in on the former goings-on of her life all melded together in a giant mess, but could distinctly remember each instance of Luca doing the same, because his were only a handful. He talked about his work a lot but any further than that Jess didn't know much about his life. And on both counts (him possibly tucking some big chunk of his life away or him being problematically married to his job), Jess felt uneasy.

Hearing his words, Jess simply smiled at him. With her free hand, she reached over and cupped his cheek. “Hey, I don't regret it either,” she said, hoping to fan any flames she stirred in his brain that led him to think that maybe she had regrets. Letting her hand fall from his face to her lap, she let out a soft sigh. “I’ll be the first to admit it was very fun, what we did. And it would be very fun to do it again, but we can’t.” While Jess had sensible reasons as to why they couldn’t, she didn’t know how to phrase it in a way that sounded more rational than some simple excuse. Plus, at the detriment of losing their easygoing friendship dynamic, she refrained.”So tell me about those artists you’re working with,” she said, trying her best to change the subject. “Any of them got it in them to be the next MJ?”  

[bratpackage]

speaknowrps:

Muffy was practically frowning, but she’d given the girl an opening. Sally was all eyebrows raised as she waited for the inevitable sex joke. No, not sex joke. A kissing joke. Good enough. “Wow, Muff, you’re losing steam.” Shoved her shoulder playfully. “I was waiting for a blowjob joke.” She swirled her drink in her cup, feet outstretched. “A gag, if you will.” She’d lightened up, now, in the presence of her best friend. This was the only thing she liked about parties. She shared in Muffy’s laughter, throat a little raspy. She took a swig out of her red solo cup for the sake of something cold against her throat. “We’ve gotta find you someone then, huh? Pick a victim.” They couldn’t both go home alone, or so early. Even if that was Sally’s prerogative, she wanted Muffy to enjoy herself. Keep them on brand. “I know what you mean. My bed is calling me.” It was her turn to rest her head on Muffy’s shoulder.

If it was possible, Muffy’s frown deepened some more. Of course that was the perfect opening for a sex joke. How could she have missed it? Pure, unadulterated exhaustion was the answer. She let out a heavy sigh, watching as Sally swirled her drink in her cup. “If I can barely think about giving blowjobs, I’m not thinking about them at all, you know?” she responded lackadaisically. “Not for me, not tonight. Maybe one for Kim though,” she said, scanning the room for their missing piece. Her eyes fell upon the dark haired girl and she pointed toward her. “What’s she on that we’ve both missed out on?” she questioned, watching as her friend laughed and enjoyed herself with a group of people. “Oh, please don’t talk about beds. It reminds me of things this couch is unfortunately lacking. LIke a good ol’ blanket and softness. Is it possible to be turned on by a bed? Because I think I am.” 

[bratpackage]

deterioate:

One of the many things Ezra found attractive about the woman next door was the fact that she didn’t care what she did or said, she just did and said exactly what she wanted. She had no time for the games and Ezra liked that. They were both very to the point people. Ezra had grown up in a home where he had to learn to grow up fast, games weren’t necessarily his forte despite the male being a boxer. Then again, boxing was one of the rare games that was more to the point. So in a way, it was fitting for Ezra to have the career. Nevertheless, this wasn’t about Ezra’s career of crappy childhood. This was about the attractive woman on the opposite balcony from him. 

Still leaning against the side of the balcony walls, Ezra smirked at Zoe when hearing her words. He shouldn’t have been surprised about her saying something so open and nonchalantly. It was sort of her motto, the thing he liked about her, but he couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised by her words despite the sarcasm that laced through them. It was nice to know he wasn’t coming off as the obnoxious crazy neighbor he once was or maybe he was? Maybe she was just into it now? “I thought I was supposed to be the one to say you have my attention first? You’re screwing up my game, neighbor.” Ezra said before laughing and shrugging his shoulders while looking down at his get up, still holding the t-shirt in his hands. At this point he was purposely keeping his shirt off - he was a boxer, he might as well show off the body that took as much as it took to hold up. What can he say? He was trying to get Zoe’s attention, sue the guy. “Depends, would I be a dick if I said it’s a show or would that give me some brownie points?” 

From her beat-up old folding lawn chair, Zoe stretched her arms out before placing a dog-ear on the last page of the book she was reading. She then set the book down on the small stool beside her chair. It became painfully obvious to her that there was no way in hell she was gonna get any of her light reading down anytime soon. For a split second, she felt annoyed that her neighbor was doing her dirty like that. When she considered that reading about some lazily written 18th century smut was nothing compared to the sight before her, she knew there was no use in annoyance. Zoe was doing the whole carpe diem thing anyway, and she sure as hell wasn’t carpe-ing any diem by reading some damn book on her balcony. 

“Hate to break it to you, neighbor, but if that’s your game, then it’s pretty much already screwed up since the get-go,” she said, quirking a brow up at him as if to challenge him. She had years on her and not just of experience, but of hearing over and over again played out come-ons (not just for herself though, but also from friends’ and colleagues’ experiences). “First off, you aren’t allowed to talk about dicks, although you are one, and second, I wholly support showing off,” she answered, letting a small smile grace her lips. “If you worked hard for it. hide it from the world?”