@abandonmxnt @heartsunnys
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@ccrvscendo
@abandonmxnt @heartsunnys
There was about her a wildness that flashed in her eyes. She was spoiled and beautiful and easily bored. She was either fiercely excited or cool and detached.
Kendra Bean, from Vivien Leigh: An Intimate Portrait (via violentwavesofemotion)
abandonmxnt:
His words slapped her in the face, and she recoiled both physically and mentally. He wasn’t immediately recognizable, not someone who she thought would know enough to insult her like that. A second passed, then two then three, and finally she mobilized. Ivy climbed to her feet, dusting the grit from her hands and elbows. The seconds allowed her anxiety to recede and logic to take hold. “Most people in my side of town wouldn’t have bothered acknowledging you, much less apologizing.” She met his gaze, head angling. But she wasn’t most people. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people out running this early.” Four years had passed since she could be comfortable about anything in the town, but she didn’t say as much. Whoever he was, he didn’t know her, nor did he know enough to understand why she felt so out of touch in the place she’d always called home. “Are you bleeding? My house is like-” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Three blocks up there.”
HE DOESN’T NEED TO BE A ROCKET SCIENCIST to see how unsavory his words were to her. those few seconds of silence between them felt deafening and there’s small pieces of him that flood with regret. she obviously had zero intentions of smashing into him, only the displeasure in the situation itself suffocates any and all rational behavior within him. his mother would be mortified by his actions. ❝ remind me not to go wherever you’re from then. ❞ he mumbles, more - so to himself than to her, as he wipes the back of his hands on his shorts, rolling back his shoulders and checking his skin for any evidence of the crash, though hearing her apologize has his head jerking back upright. great, now he feels even more like a dick. ❝ ― whatever, it’s fine. ❞ he lowers his head once more so that he could check out his calf, which was blooming with bits of red blood from ripped skin. great, pt 2, just another thing to add onto his morning. off of ( a stupid ) instinct, he wipes the blood with his hand and shakes his head up at her, ❝ you want me to go to your place after you just told me about the people on your side of town ? ❞ he questions, trying to emphasize on her earlier statement. ❝ do you think I’m stupid ? ❞
abandonmxnt:
It was hard not to feel a small dab of excitement. Marissa had never put much stock in the idea of a party life before, not because she couldn’t use the release, but rather because she always had better things to do. At first, it was studying, doing her best to drag herself out of the tragic hell that was her mother’s downward spiral. Then, it was an affair that ruined her life. Doing something as carefree as a kegstand, as simple as laughing with a friend, was a foreign concept, sure, but she took to it like a fish to water. “Okay,” her laughter covered most of the word. “Alright-” she kicked up, squeezing her eyes as tight as possible. Her arms locked out, some sort of survival mechanism or something considering she wasn’t anywhere close to what the dictionary labeled strong. But…she didn’t fall. Brandon was there. Another set of hands steadied her, too, and after a second or two of trying to remember how to breathe, she opened her eyes. She heard him, of course. She knew she could have waited for him to finish her off, but she was inspired by the adrenaline. Grabbing the spout, she placed it in her mouth and drank until she felt her eyeballs floating. All of three seconds, truly. But it was enough. Wiggling her feet, she let him know she was ready to be flat on the earth once more.
THE MOMENT IS OVER BEFORE brandon can really enjoy it. that’s the thing that sucks about adrenaline, it almost always ends up feeling like someone’s pushing the fast forward button on life right before a person can indulge and enjoy themselves. first the brunette is up and then she’s down. one minute he’s holding her up by tiny limbs, steadying her with the grace an inebriated soul like his own should not possess, and the next she’s back to level ground like it never happened. ❝ not bad, not bad, ❞ after giving a semi - thanks to the other helping hand, brandon turns in full to his protégé with his features splitting into a toothy, dimple deepening grin despite the tiny smudge of disappointment in not getting a few more seconds in with their lift. ❝ we’ll have to work your timing, but I see a keg champ title in your future. ❞ or maybe it’s just the beer talking. either way, brandon’s more pleased now that she didn’t yack anything up after landing. bonus points, because he’s definitely seen that happen more than once. ❝ now, ❞ taking a step beside her, he loops an arm around her shoulders and motions them forward to the kitchen. ❝ let’s go celebrate with some real drinks. ❞ handstands not required.
harvestmooned:
“ 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 and juliet, the real forbidden love story is me an’ my fresh produce. ” yes : this is absolutely not the correct level of small talk for someone she’s only briefly been acquainted with, but who else is there to hear her moot grievances ? she’s been away from the georgia farmlands for one whole week and is already begging to go home. “ y’can’t tell me that ain’t the saddest shit you’ve ever heard. back home i got more food than i know what to do with —- i should’a packed a damn suitcase full of it. ”
HIS SMILE ONLY PULLS at her words since never has he ever meet anyone so passionate about fresh produce that they’d name drop a tragedy just like that. this is serious, he can tell. ❝ I’m sorry , ❞ the words fall out of him more like he’s trying to find the right answer, question - like, as if he’s unsure over how to respond to this sudden agricultural travesty. ❝ I mean, I wish I could help, buuuut, ❞ anthony spreads his arms out wide, motioning to the space around them like he’s trying to gather as much of their breezy coastal surroundings as humanely possible. between the sand, trees, and crashing of waves, anthony isn’t entirely sure this person knew what they were getting into by coming here to the outer banks. ❝ we are on an island. there’s not much of a need for organic squash and such. ❞ he knits his brows together, ❝ what are you even looking for, anyways ? ❞
heartsunnys:
@ccrvscendo / brandon.
“ you know , i have half the mind to say those are not-yo nachos, “ the brunette eyes the male , then the plate of apps between them . “ but i’m a nice person so i’m not going to . and i’m going to share . “ a single chip is dip into some extra queso & popped in her mouth . “ this is where you say thank you , sunshine . “
❝ THEN I’D HAVE TO BE the asshole that tells you that your jokes are just as bad as the ones they have on the back of popsicle sticks. ❞ he says, or at least tries to, through a mouthful of oozy cheese and crunchy tortilla chips before letting her finish on the talk of her being nice. as if they hadn’t already established the whole ‘ what’s mine is yours ' portion of their imaginary friendship contract. ❝ and besides, ❞ he takes hold of another chip, drowning dripping it dramatically into warm queso. ❝ it’s a known fact that food just tastes better when it comes from your plate. ❞
abandonmxnt:
@ccrvscendo
The world was barely pink, soft enough to enhance illusions, but not bright enough to solve any real problems. Ivy cut the music when she found her stride. The sound of her feet hitting the pavement settled her. There was something about the rhythmic aggression that made the echo inside her disappear. The running began as a way to acclimate to a new place, tiring herself out enough to crash at night, but soon enough she started depending on the numb high that came after she’d pushed her body just a little too far. Running with an abandon so thorough had its drawbacks, though. Ivy cut the corner by Cherries, deciding to take the long way home, but the split decision didn’t give her the chance to react. To be fair, it wasn’t like she was expecting someone to be walking the sidewalks before sunrise. She put on the breaks, but it was too little too late. Their bodies collided, and she bounced off like a pinball, falling with a less than graceful flair. After a string of breathy cursing, she glanced down to the new hole in her leggings, head shaking at her luck. “Fuck me,” she muttered, only then glancing to her victim. Here she was acting like the victim, and she all but bowled them over. “Well, if you weren’t awake, I’ll bet you are now,” she said, laugh tapering off with uncertainty.
IT’S NOT SURPRISING to find him with his feet pounding against clean slices of concrete at the peak of sunrise. it’s not surprising that the habit’s been formed thanks to years of enduring his father and his persistence to shape his only son into the mirror image of the man himself. a habit he often wishes he could give up on because it reminds him too much of the man who makes his stomach stitch up into perfectly made figure eight knots. music blast in his ears as he reflects on the realization that he hasn’t been running in ages, it taking one run in with aubrey for him to be en route to clearing his head, clearly still rattled by the blonde and her new colorful personalities, and falling back into such habits he wishes he could just give up on. a foot lifts to speed up his pace, a corner cut and a moment later and his body is doubling over onto the ground. all six feet and two inches of him clashing to earth quicker than bowling pins. ❝ funny, ❞ the word drawls out of him as he pushes himself up by his palms since he rather not spend another second on the ground. ❝ is that how they say sorry on your side of town or ? ❞
pvtrichors:
@ccrvscendo
SOME THINGS, PEOPLE, PLACES, they were all meant to be labeled with the off limits sign, for better or worse. Typically, that didn’t stop him, or anyone in his family, but this was just a touch different. It was a line, expertly toed for the most part, until now…or so he assumed. The joint was pulled from behind his ear, almost like he was caught red handed as he looked up from the makeshift perch on the porch railing. “He’s not here.” He always assumes the dark haired boy is here looking for his brother, which was a shame, because even in the dying light of the day he was the kind of beautiful that could, and should, have been spread across the canvas in his room.
THE VOICE THAT CREEPS UP on him is unfamiliar to the point that it shakes brandon back to reality after poorly trying to scope out the scene in front of him for any sign of a certain friend hanging around, making him flustered enough to burn red like a child with their hand caught in a cookie jar. ❝ oh, ❞ fingers tighten against the skin of a football in hand and he’s quick to drag his eyes away almost at once after feeling like he’s been staring at the other like an idiot. ❝ — I mean shit, ❞ he tries to recover by clearing his throat ( and pushing away the current rush of thoughts dancing about in his head ) and forcing himself to look up at the door of the home instead of the blonde. ❝ dude owes me like ten bucks, ❞ smith actually doesn’t. he’s just here because he’s bored and wants to cook some mischief up before the sun goes down, only that sounded too lame to admit all of a sudden. ❝ you know when he’ll be back ? ❞
heartsunnys:
lips part with something resembling offense colouring doll like features at his comment. “ i would not kick a puppy, you think i’m that much of an evil bitch ? “ she scoffs, nearly appalled by the mere idea. “ you ever think that how i acted when i was with you was the changed version and that this is the real me? you knew me for like , a year anthony . you barely actually know me. “ a lie & they both know it.
HE WANTS TO TELL HER that he has half the mind to say yes, he does think she may be capable of a little act as heinous as that, only it’d be lie and he’s trying to do this thing where he doesn’t lie to people he’s trying to communicate the truth out of. aubrey just has the tendency ( he’s currently vividly realizing ) to make that promise to himself beyond difficult. he bites back on his words and forces himself to take his eyes off her, growing more restless the more she talks about how much he doesn’t know about her. ❝ what is your problem with me ? ❞ the question falls from him before he can catch himself, ❝ we were friends once, right ? or did I make that whole year up just like you made up ― what was it again ― private boarding school ? ❞
pvtrichors:
JAQ KNOWS FULL AND WELL WHAT PAIN LOOKS LIKE. She’s had ten years to learn it, really, especially when it comes to the kind that ends up in her reflection. His thought, his ears a little bit more concern, because it has always been easier to worry about other people than it has herself. There is a pause, taken to actually look at him, a little longer than expecting, before a nod. “You’re not as a damn lucky, because I do.” She warns like it is a threat, but she’s already moving to pour the drinks, half tempted to switch his out for something a little harder. “But, I will get you properly wasted, in exchange for a little story time, of course.” She was, naturally a huge fan of venting and probably held the secrets of the universe trapped in that pretty little head.
A STRONG PART OF HIM is holding back the want to roll his eyes since he sure as hell isn’t up to being picked at with sticky little questions by pretty girls carrying champagne. so he stiffens a lean against the wall as he watches her pour their drinks, prepping himself mentally for the white lies he’s certain to spill if she asks him anything too beneath the surface . . . only his brows end up twitching together when she offers other terms for their little on a whim arrangement. ❝ you want to hear a story from me ? ❞ his tone adjusts to something flat, features twisting as if he can’t imagine anything worse for them to do. ❝ what’s exciting about that ? I’m boring, believe me. ❞
pvtrichors:
SMITH ISN’T QUITE AS OUT OF IT AS HE MIGHT LOOK. He knows that he has seen his face before, and the way that his gaze drops for a second before laughing at the statement. The sarcasm is the respectable response, really, and he appreciates that quality in both a person and a conversation. Grin is flashed, before head shakes, which only succeeds in brushing long hair into his face. “New here and already thrifted this shit?” He reaches out and plucks the hoodie, laughing a little bit. “You have your priorities in order but not your directions, because let me tell you, this is certainly not the beach. It’s actually the YMCA.”
❝ MY AESTHETIC IS VINTAGE. ❞ brandon rolls off a shrug like his pricy $35.99 ( not including tax ) senior class hoodie is designer and not from champion, playing into the idea he indeed thrifted it like he’s sure kooks obsessed with their instagrams do at their local goodwill. only the reality is that he’s saved up weeks of bad tips from mowing lawns in the eight over the summer so that he could afford such a nice piece before he graduated. ❝ but shit, I knew I was in the wrong place. ❞ a hand cards through the length of his hair after he’s got a good enough look of the other to let recognition settle. the name escapes him, but the face offers a better memory. sort of. so he offers up an easy introduction to iron out the details, ❝ name’s brandon. liam garrity’s my dad, he used up to coach up at the school. ❞ he rocks back by the heels of chucks with a short laugh. ❝ so, yeah, I’d say I come here often. ❞
MASON GOODING IRMOH - AYISA (Official Music Video)
abandonmxnt:
She could sense his frustration, and she totally understood. Marissa found herself wishing she had never even mentioned her keg stand virginity. One minute they had been watching some seven foot (at least) caveman hold himself up to chug, and the next Brandon had been ushering her to the front of the line like some VIP on parade. Despite the knot in her stomach, she smiled. The logical side of her brain believed him, knowing if he wanted to pick her up and toss her like a hacky sack, he probably could. The other part of her brain, though, was a bitch to quiet down. “That’s easy for you to say, considering you won’t be-” but his hands on her shoulders stopped her tirade. Sighing, she flicked hair from her face by shaking her head, only then meeting his intent gaze, and as he spoke, she wasn’t sure if there was anything she wanted to do more than believe him. “Trust you,” she repeated, though not in question. She licked her lips, her own hands raising to settle on his shoulders, too. She nodded. “Okay.” Brows raised. “Fine, I’ll trust you.” She let go, turning around again to grab the keg. She grabbed the tap, closing her eyes for just one more second, and then she was ready. “Do it before I change my mind.”
AND THERE IT WAS, finally. the tiny idyllic words of I’ll trust you slipping from her mouth and getting caught up in his ears before he could feel the warmth of her hands on his shoulders. it’s enough confirmation needed for what they were doing, though he knows deep down she has every right to be nervous. she’s about to flip upside down to drink beer in a shitty one floor home in the thick of the cut from a keg he and a few of his friends hurled from off a random truck. anyone in their right mind would be skeptical, only brandon’s got enough faith in himself for the both of them. ❝ thank you ! there we go. ❞ he says as he lets a grin spread across his face as light traces of dimples inherited from his mother popped into his cheeks. ❝ ― now just grip tight, lock your wrists, and keep your head down once you’re up. ❞ standing behind her, he whistles to the closet person he knows around them to help spot and then steadies her at the waist, lips at her ear for another moment of support. ❝ kick up whenever you’re ready and let me worry about the rest. ❞
pvtrichors:
AS PER USUAL, he was tucked into the corner of his own party, perched on the counter like the crooked king of this particular castle. A hand wrapped around the glass he’s filled with his personal favorite, the old reliable mixture of gin and juice, lifting it to his lips to hide the devil in the details of that particular grin. It didn’t stay hidden for long though, cup being abandoned on the counter as he looked at the few people he was entertaining. “Never have I ever…” It was drawn out, taking time to look at each person with playful accusation before leaning back. “Fucked someone else’s significant other, and before anyone says anything, I will be drinking.” @ccrvscendo
THE THING DEE LOVES THE MOST about parties hosted in the eight is not the fact that the liquor came easy or that party favors came in dainty forms of goodie bags being slipped discreetly into moisturized hands. it isn’t the satisfying feeling of throwing your coat in the safety of one of six closets or feeling the mayhem booming beneath heeled feet while those in the prime of their lives vibed to whatever overpriced dj that’s been hired for the night. no, dee’s true appreciation for it all comes in the form of society kings perched on marble, addressing subjects and harboring future secrets through innocent games of never have I ever. ❝ in other words, be careful of this one, ❞ she says as she swoops in with just enough time to catch the tail end of his words. ❝ or you may just find him with yours. ❞
heartsunnys:
@ccrvscendo / open.
“ i will never understand how people survive the winter without indoor pools . “ he says from the comfort of a hot tub .
❝ IF YOU’RE SO CURIOUS just ask the closest pogue you see the next time you’re dealing molly in the cut. ❞
poppyhq:
okay, so maybe it had been something of a long shot, but poppy was still a little disappointed to find out that he didn’t just so happen to have the exact shoe she needed on him. “well…” poppy sighed, reaching out and grabbing a hold of brandon’s arm when she felt herself starting to sway again, holding her broken shoe up higher so he could take a look at it. “what am i supposed to do? i look like a flamingo.”
❝ HAVE YOU SEEN some of the people on the boardwalk these days ? ❞ it may have been a brisk february day with nothing but scattered clouds for the rest of the afternoon, but that didn’t seem to stop the overflow of bodies cluttering about the beach around them. kids ran up and down the boardwalk in sandy steps with their pants rolled up at the knees, locals roamed around in sleek wet suits for windy surf sessions, and fratboy - wannabes / tourists hung around the shops that lined everything together in tanks with stupid sayings like LEGALIZE COCAINE or BLAZE IT UP, OBX underneath their jackets. so if anyone was to turn their head in poppy’s direction, brandon’s sure it would be because she’s pretty, not because she looks like a flamingo. ❝ wanna piggyback ride to the surf shop ? they should have flip flops, right ? we could get some and then that way you won’t have to worry about looking like a ‘mingo. ❞