[hitides]

⚓︎ ┆hitides — written by eno for angelenosfm .ᐟ

ㅤ ㅤ ⤷ㅤ starring ELIO & CEPH & NIK

[hitides]

› ft @takxmxhighxr !

“how much more did you say you need, again?” it’s not that he’s having a rough time carrying all of luci’s purchases, exactly—and being able to cruise along on his board instead of walking certainly helped—but it was a little too early to be carrying this much weight. “i thought rose’s turn was a cafe and a bookstore. this feels a lot like bookstore and wholesale.”

[loveforsale-1]

“oh,  boy.  consider  me  ridden  with  diarrhoea,  then.”  she  supposed  she could  have  felt  guilty  for  disturbing  his  precious  free  time,  but  honestly?  couldn't  find  it  in  herself  to  care.  not  when  he  was  being  such  a  haughty  little  bitch  about  it.  book  in  one  hand,  some  holier-than-thou  attitude  in  the  other...  she  would’ve  been  amused  if  she  wasn’t  so  annoyed.  she  thought  about  being  the  bigger  person.  she  could’ve  just  ignored  him,  pretended  he  wasn’t  there,  carried  on  with  her  life.  but he  kicked  her.  not  hard,  but  enough  for  her  to feel  it,  enough  to  make  her  breath  hitch  in  disbelief.  her  head  snapped  down,  glaring  at  the  point  of  contact.  “oh,  you fucking—”  she  cut  herself  off,  her  own  foot  shooting  forward  and  landing  against  his  shin  with  just  enough  force  to make  a  point.

[hitides]

ceph doesn’t react—years of dealing with all of the industry’s bullshit gave him a hell of a poker face—but he does respond in kind, the heel of one foot digging into the tip of her shoe before his legs stretch out even further. it’s not exactly comfortable, but getting even wasn’t meant to be comfortable. it was meant to rankle, to annoy, and sometimes both parties got caught in the crossfire. just part of the territory, really, and ceph was nothing if not used to it. he flips to the next page, casual as you please, poring over the words as the opposite heel digs into her other shoe—symmetry and all that. “wouldn’t want it to feel left out.” he deadpans.

[coldwhisk]

loc: studio harbor

the idea came to her while she was lying down in bed, scrolling mindlessly through tiktok late on a wednesday night. the video was simple—an insanely pretty girl dressed in black, molding clay like it was the easiest thing in the world. huh, looks interesting. and that was how she ended up registering for a pottery class that weekend. now, seated in front of the wheel, sleeves pushed up and a streak of clay already on her cheek, she cracks her knuckles like she’s about to win something. “alright, let’s see if i’m a natural.” she pauses, glancing over to the person next to her. “what are the odds this thing collapses in the next five minutes?”

[hitides]

nik wasn’t exactly an expert in pottery. he dabbled, sure, and the end result is rarely awful, but he’s aware that there’s room for improvement. still, he enjoys it enough to make time for it when he can, taking full advantage of studio harbor’s equipment to make random trinkets that his friends end up being saddled with one way or another. today’s project is a panda with holes boring into its poor head, and nik’s carving details onto its fur when he registers the question. “five minutes? pretty low.” comes the response, but the smile he pairs with the words suggests that there might be something more to it. “the third minute’s going to fuck you up before you even get to five.”

[coldwhisk]

loc: new heights rec center

jaekyung arrives with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a grin wide enough to convince everyone he passes that he’s happy to be here. whether he’s trying to convince them or himself, he’s not entirely sure. he’s been hitting the gym 3 times a week— there’s no real reason for him to need the extra cardio. but a change of pace sounds good… at least, until he remembers one tiny little detail. he’s not a terrible swimmer, promise. well actually— let’s just say he does better on land. the sharp scent of chlorine hits the moment he enters the pool area. “guess who’s back?” he announces to no one in particular. nevermind that he’s never actually been there before.

[hitides]

it’s rare, seeing elio in a pool—he grew up on the coast, prefers it—but when a friend calls him up to ask for help teaching a beginner swimming class, the last thing elio’s going to do is say no. it’s been a little over an hour since the lesson ended, but he figured there’s no harm in hanging around a bit longer; and so he stays, doing laps and making the most out of his trip to van nuys. he’s taking a break when he spots the newcomer, and elio greets him with an easy smile spreading across his lips, a response to the grin that the stranger is sporting. “who’s back?” he asks, eyes alight with curiosity. “i hope you’re not new heights royalty or anything like that. it’s my first time here, so i wouldn’t be able to recognize you if you were, sorry.”

[overspends]

open starter / location: random nail bar

"which colour do you think i should go for?" jaya asks the other, looking down at her choices. she loved getting her nails painted, jaya always felt a little more confident whenever she left the shop, "i was thinkin' of maybe getting some cute flowers, like daisies on there too, for some spring vibes or has that been done to death?".

[hitides]

“i don’t really think it matters.” he responds with a shrug, having given her nails a cursory glance before leaning back in his seat. “if you like it, you should go for it. i mean, how many bottle blondes have you seen today? everything’s been done to death in los angeles.” not that it’s a bad thing. nik’s guilty of having a list of old faithfuls, too. case in point: his nails are done up in neon pink, ultramarine, and electric purple—a combination dating back to college that he has yet to outgrow. “if it makes you feel better, i do the same colors each time.”

[coldwhisk]

"you're gonna pass?" he repeats, raising a brow before his lips curve up slightly into an amused smirk. "wow, i didn't take you for a coward. it's just eggs. you've definitely put worse things in your body tonight." ceph still looks like one wrong move might send him over the edge though, so he sighed before setting the glass aside with an exaggerated shake of his head. "alright, fine. no eggs. three shots of espresso, coming right up. but if you puke, i'm making you mop the floor." he says, his eyes lighting up with mischief and amusement. as he moves behind the counter, he looks back over his shoulder and shoots one last grin. "you know what, i should actually charge you extra—this is technically a crime scene."

[hitides]

“listen,” he begins, the ribbing having cut through the fog in his brain, “have you ever had one of those? ’cause it’s not fun, and it doesn’t even fucking work. i would literally rather have—” but there’s no need to go that far, ceph tells himself, somehow managing to slap a filter on his drunken rambling. that would’ve been useful two nights ago. “just get me my drink, man.” his jacket needed a wash yesterday, but he wraps it a little more tightly around himself all the same—the tank he was wearing did nothing to keep him warm, and it was the only thing he had in his car. fucking industry parties. fucking jude and his fucking styling. “i’m not even going to pretend i know what that means.” he responds, shaking his head (gently, because anything else would have him throwing up). “if it’s a crime scene because my dignity died or whatever, you’re six years late to the funeral.” ceph looks around at all the empty tables then, squinting slightly in the light. “you guys got any warm spots? i’m really fucking cold.”

[uponcanvas]

"you  can  your  surprises..."  dani  mutters,  but  there's  no  actual  complaint  whatsoever  in  her  tone.  between  them,  they  both  know  she  loves  the  surprises,  whether  it's  in  the  form  of  unplanned  visits,  spontaneous  text  or  simply  random  calls  at  an  ungodly  hour.  fingers  idly  toy  with  the  hem  of  her  sweater  as  she  feels  his  touch  against  her  hair.  the  gesture's  gentle,  reassuring,  and  something  she  never  realized  she'd  grow  to  love  and  feel  attached  to;  it's  enough  to  render  cheeks  warm.  "you  didn't  have  to,  y'know."  but  the  way  she  chases  after  touch,  how she's subconsciously  leaning  into  it,  betrays  her  words.  because  of  course  he  knows  her  too  well,  knows  how  much  these  seemingly  trivial  things  matter  to  her.  "alright,  mr.  hairdresser.  let's  see..."  a  glance  casted  around  apartment,  eyes  twinkling  with  childlike  excitement  as  she  faces  him  once  more,  tugging  nik  by  both  his  wrists  as  footsteps  take  them  deeper  into  their  little  home.  "let's  use  the  bathroom.  remember  when  we  stained  the  couch  with  pink  dye  last  time?  wouldn't  want  that  to  happen  again."

[hitides]

“hey, don’t knock the pink couch. it was cute. we put our own little spin on it.” he allows himself to be led away, and laughing at the memory that’s been called to mind. nik swears he could spot remnants of that dye even now— that is, if he looked very closely—but half of him thinks that he might just be seeing what he wants to see. as much as he’d like a repeat, he didn’t want dani to deal with extra cleanup on top of the week she’s had; and so he starts setting up near the sink, taking the dye out of their boxes and grabbing hair products off of their shelves from elsewhere around the bathroom. the chair’s the final piece of the puzzle (reclining and foldable, purchased specifically for this purpose), and he moves it from its spot in the hall closet, soon unfolding it by the sink. “c’mere,” he says, smiling as he calls dani over. pretty soon he’s got fingers in her hair, working suds into the wet strands. “how was the project?” he asks, and then: “now i sound like a hairdresser and a housewife. how was work, honey?” his voice is soft even as he laughs, and washing someone’s hair isn’t meant to take this long; but this isn’t about that, not really, and it isn’t entirely about dyeing either. for the most part, he just wants dani to be able pause for a few moments and just breathe—and if playing hairdresser is what it takes, nik was more than willing.

[uponcanvas]

jude  doesn’t  react.  not  right  away,  not  until  he  meets  ceph’s  eyes.  shoulders  lift  into  a  shrug  in  response.  it’s  bound  to  happen,  he  knows,  and  it’s  happened  more  than  just  a  few  times  to  him  in  the  past—  whether  it’s  with  ceph  or  with  someone  else;  he  hates  it  everytime.  “i  know.  we’re  both  only  in  this  for  the cheap  thrill."  they’re  more  similar  than  he’d  like  to  admit,  jude  thinks.  someone  who  seeks  nothing  more  than  what’s  deemed  ‘temporary’.  only  to  keep  their  minds  occupied.  someone  who  avoids  commitment  at  all  costs.  "so  let’s  try  and  not  get  carried  away  next  time,  it’s  easier  that  way.”  because  knowing  how  they  both  are,  jude  knows  that  there  will  be  a  next  time  despite  them  making  a  big  fuss  over  of  it  right  now.  a  sigh  escapes  parted  lips  then,  fingers  reaching  for  a  pin—  something  he  had  picked  up  on  the  way—  intricately  detailed  with  accents  of  silver  before  gesturing  ceph  to  come  a  bit  closer.  a  final  touch to attire,  just  so  it won’t  look  too  plain  on  its  own.  “at  least  try  not  to  look  like  you'd  rather  set  yourself  on  fire  than  be  here."

[hitides]

he holds the other’s gaze long enough to be polite, just a few beats or so (any more of this and ceph would want to wince), before busying himself with a cuff that didn’t really need fixing. “we could talk big all we want, but there’s a nonzero chance that this is going to happen again. there’s no point in saying it won’t.” and it’s true, too—they both know it. they weren’t compatible, strictly speaking; they were far too similar to get any of this to work, but it meant they could come to an understanding. some things didn’t need to be spoken, not when dealing with someone who’s often on the same page. “all that really matters is that we aren’t weird about it after. moving to the couch? fine. i don’t want to sleep next to you either. but don’t fucking sneak out of your own house. that just makes it so much worse.” he steps closer as he’s beckoned, a little more at ease; and he looks down, inspecting the pin as best he could while jude fixes it onto his lapel. “kind of hard not to do that when i look like a box of nerds.” he didn’t, not really, and the barb carries less weight now that they’ve aired most of their shit out.

[loveforsale-1]

it  was  kind  of  elio  to  do  this,  making  the  effort.  for her.  organising  little  hangouts  like  this,  indulging  her  passions  even  when  they  weren’t  his  own.  it  was  one  of  those  things  about  elio;  he  never  made  a  big  deal  of  it.  he  never  expected  anything  in  return.  he  just did  things  for  the  people  he  cared  about.  ayumi  glanced  at  the  clock,  tilting  her  head  slightly.  “i  think  we  have  about  twenty  minutes  left?”  she  sighed.  twenty  minutes  felt  too  fast,  especially  when  time  always  slipped  away  from  her  when  she  painted.  she  set  her  brush  down  for  a  moment,  rubbing  absentmindedly  at  a  smear  of  paint  on  her  wrist.  “what  something,  though?”  the  corners  of  her  lips  turned  up  slightly.  she  leaned  in,  staring  at  her  friend.  “i'll  show  you  what  i've  done  so  far  if  you  show  me  yours.”

[hitides]

the response has his eyes growing wide, but elio (miracle of miracles) somehow manages not to react any other way. he’s a little floored by the fact that he was able to do so much yet so little in the time that they’ve been painting, and he’s fairly sure that twenty minutes isn’t enough to make his work presentable—but ayumi was having fun, and that’s really all that matters. elio doesn’t mind rediscovering his lack of artistic ability (time and time again) if it meant she could do something for herself every now and then. “well...” the word is drawn out, hesitant; he really didn’t want to have to show ayumi his canvas, but if anyone had any hope of figuring out a way to salvage his painting, it’d be her. “you can’t laugh,” is all the warning he gives before he angles his easel towards her, and he knows what she’s going to find—ice cream melting in the heat that could easily be mistaken for gasoline spilling across the pavement, and an off-color sugar cone in the right corner that looked more like a traffic cone than anything else. at least his painting looked like something, elio supposed.

[hitides]

task 001 :  nik’s playlist !

come here dominic fike hi grace dominic fike sick dominic fike bodies dominic fike love hangover jennie ft dominic fike & more songs ( not by dominic fike ) in the playlist . . .

[hitides]

task 001 :  ceph’s demos !

die in california mgk cancel me dominic fike sniffing vicodin in paris blackbear ugh! the 1975 help blackbear & more songs in the playlist . . .

[hitides]

task 001 :  elio’s mixtape !

best friend rex orange county disconnected 5 seconds of summer feel the same the millennial club why you look so sad? diverseddie hear me out exo & more songs in the playlist . . .

[escuerzoresucitado]

[uponcanvas]

hours  spent  in  the  studio  always  takes  a  toll  upon  one’s  body,  physically  and  mentally.  it’s  something  dani’s  learned  from  experience.  the  knock  startled  her  (almost  made  her  knock  over  a  cup  of  coffee,  at  that),  but  what  startled  her  even  more  was  the  person  standing  behind  the  door.  “nik?”  lips  part  in  surprise,  a  second  taken  to  process  his  disheveled  state  along  with  skateboard  hugged  under  an  arm.  (surprised  she  may  be,  but  deep  down?  perhaps  she'd  been  spending  the  past  few  hours  hoping  he'd  visit).  only  when  eyes  fall  upon  the  bag,  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  dye,  does  realization  settle  in.  fingers  instinctively  drawn  to  her  own  hair,   through  the  natural  dark  color  peeking  through  strawberry  blonde.  seems  like  it  slipped  her  mind  again,  with  all  the  deadlines  and  late  night  sessions.  “god.  is  it  that  bad  already?”  she  mutters,  more  to  herself  than  anything before features  soften  to  a  smile,  door  opened  wider  for  him  to  enter.  "you  could've  called  beforehand.  or  texted."

[hitides]

“i could’ve, but i figured you’d like the surprise.” he says, walking in through the door and propping his longboard up against its usual spot against the wall. he’s here often enough that his boards have their own version of a doorstop, something to stop them from rolling off—a little lump of plaster that nik had sculpted into a shark and spray painted neon pink and electric blue. it stands out bright against the rest of the apartment, all earth tones and muted colors; and the sight of it always makes him smile, reminds him that dani has carved out a space for him in her home somehow. “it’s not that bad,” he replies, both arms finding her waist as he reassures her. “you could grow it out and you’d look just as pretty to me.” the hand that’s not clutching the dye comes to a rest atop her hair, smoothing it down where the roots have begun to show. “but i know this is important to you, and i know you haven’t had time for it lately, so i wanted to help.” he plants a kiss onto her forehead then, feather-light and brief, before letting his gaze roam. “come on. i’m playing hairdresser for the night. where should we do this?”

[serpcntskirt-deactivated2025031]

✧  𓂅  open  ,  junction  flea  market

"  isn't  that  insane  ?  "  xochitl's  mouth  was  left  partly  agape  as  she  watched  the  muralist  at  work  .  the  person  seemed  to  be  lost  in  their  own  world  entirely  .  the  small  crowds  of  people  coming  together  and  dispersing  behind  them  as  they  worked  seemed  to  do  nothing  to  distract  them  .  they  continued  to  carry  on  .  the  story  she  was  chasing  ,  intel  she  was  trying  to  capture  completely  forgotten  as  she  watched  the  color  fill  the  otherwise  blank  wall  .  and  in  true  xochitl  fashion  ,  she  had  to  ruin  an  otherwise  fine  moment  .  "  what  do  you  think  they'd  do  if  someone  just  came  behind  them  with  the  biggest  water  bucket  you've  ever  seen  ?  "

[hitides]

he’d been trailing after xochitl for the better part of an hour. it’s one of the perks of being virtually unemployed—nik could waste the day away, just following his friends around, and no one would be the wiser. he keeps enough distance between them to stay on his cruiser without overtaking her, but he stops just as she does, kicking his board up and tucking it under his arm. “isn’t that guy famous or something?” he asks, having followed her line of sight to watch the artist at work. nik tilts his head, trying to make sense of the mural that’s slowly taking shape, only to exhale a laugh once xochitl throws out another one of her trademarked hypotheticals. “well, you know what they say...” he starts, tipping his head in the direction of the mural. “fuck around and find out. i’m sure you can find a bucket somewhere.”

[serpcntskirt-deactivated2025031]

“  no  .  ”  suddenly  the  two  letter  word  had  become  her  favorite  .  it  was  a  kneejerk  reaction  to  being  seen  .  leaving  so  many  tables  vacant  to  insist  on  sitting  with  a  stranger  was  an  easy  tell  ,  but  xochitl  spent  a  lot  of  energy  into  being  mysterious  ,  hard  to  read  .  made  her  eye  twitch  when  someone  could  crack  the  spine  and  study  a  page  .  “  have  you  not  been  getting  my  love  letters  ?  the  lock  of  hair  ?  ”  sarcasm  found  her  as  easily  as  the  faux  look  of  embarrassment  .  she  really  put  her  all  into  her  act  ,  shaking  her  head  and  learning  forward  ,  a  fake  laugh  on  her  lips  .  “  i  thought  for  sure  you'd  gotten  my  letter  about  meeting  at  the  creaky  table  next  to  the  window  with  the  two  year  coffee  stain  on  the  sill  .  we  were  suppose  to  exchange  vows  .  "  the  last  line  might've  been  overselling  it  ,  but  better  that  than  be  forced  to  answer  any  question  about  herself  ever  .  she  popped  a  few  m&ms  in  her  mouth  and  sat  back  with  a  scoff  ,  using  her  free  hand  to  pull  her  journal  from  her  tote  bag  .  ”  is  one  of  those  habits  moping  at  a  bookstores  ?  “  she  questioned  through  a  half  full  mouth  as  she  chewed  .  "  or  is  this  some  sort  of  mating  call  all  the  sad  curly  haired  boys  are  doing  these  days  ?  don't  tell  me  you're  writing  poetry  .  can  i  be  a  muse  ?  "  it  never  took  long  for  the  sarcasm  to  find  her  .

[hitides]

‘strange’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, he soon finds, amending his first impressions in real time. he’s used to dealing with oddballs—creatives often were—but he’s having a rough time trying to come up with a descriptor that wasn’t off her fucking rocker. “hate to break it to you, but the table’s been fixed and i’m married. there’s nothing for you here.” he makes a show out of jostling the table, just a bit, before wiggling the fingers in his left hand to showcase the lack of a ring. “ring’s being resized, but you should’ve seen it. bespoke lorel, absolutely gorgeous. jacques spoils me.” is what he says next, syllables drawn out as he slips into a valley girl accent—the hand that was raised bending at the wrist for effect. if she’s pulling out the theatrics, so is he. “and no, i’m not writing poetry. ever heard of soundcloud rappers? we’re the future of prose as we know it. i’m actually about to drop a new mixtape about a girl who likes trail mix and proposing to strangers. it’s going to be lit. fire, even. you should pre-save.” the slang doesn’t come easy, but years of spewing bullshit enables him to keep a straight face somehow. “you’re avoiding the question. don’t think i didn’t notice.” ceph should know—avoiding questions is part of the job. he locks onto the journal, then, nodding in its direction. “what’s so important that you need to do it here?”