professional asshole

He’d thought she’d move back, but she never did what he thought she’d do. 💩 LIZ HOLT • TWENTY NINE ANGRY FUCK • NOMAD BAD MOTHER • 100% TEQUILA cold to the touch but she's warm as the devil

[jizz-holt]

sarah-bluth:

“Not really. I saw you from that window and I thought you could use a beer.” Sarah said with her raspy voice, pointing the window across the street. “Moving is a bitch. And boring, so there’s that.” The red head shrugged a single shoulder, taking a sip from her drink. “Oh, so you move back here. Welcome back then.” She chuckled. “Do you need some help? I am free and I am bored. I’d rather helping a stranger than staying at home one more minute.”

        “You saw me from a window, huh? Dude, you’re horror filming me now, I dig it.” Liz laughs, amused by the woman’s sudden quirkiness. Not a lot of people are so blatantly honest, or maybe she’s just not thinking her statements through on how they might be percieved from a total stranger. Either way, Liz doesn’t care, she doesn’t care because she’s got a free beer now and someone to complain to all the while. “Eh, it’s whatever. It’s the only place that’ll take a piece of shit like me, I’ve found.” She responds with a casual shrug. “Sure, why not? Like, I’m not gonna pay you and I don’t have any beer yet, but if you’re down I am.”

[jizz-holt]

bashbaker:

“What? I have whatever power I want, this is my office.” He said with a roll of his eyes. He couldn’t look back often, he stared as she moved things around on his desk. The woman really needed to stop, or learn how to keep her hands to herself and not touch things that weren’t hers. “Hypothetically?” He groaned, he did this for a living, for an excess amount of money. Why would he do it now for free. That was just counterintuitive, but he’d humour her for a minute. “So you hypothetically, cut him up into little pieces and put all those pieces in a blender?” He paused, “just left with the sticky parts on the wall like you repainted for christmas?” He thought about it for a second, “I’d tell you to mix some simple green and bleach then clean the walls. If you’ve blended the body I’d tell you to feed it to a dog, and and then well– you’re probably good to go. If they don’t have a body they can’t charge you with anything, and if you’ve fed the body to something, it’s quite literally gone so they can’t find it. Then it turns into a missing persons case and those go cold all the time.” That was easy. None of them were that easy. “And i don’t know what Facebook think you’re talking about– I don’t deal with robbery.” He paused, “Also what the fuck is an Uncle Gussy?” 

              It is his office, and it’s a lot of clean that reminds her of when she used to service houses in Kingsgate. The amount of trophies she’s licked, expensive colognes and perfumes she’s used, and trinkets she’s broken in those luxurious homes is an endless list. She was never the most morally correct cleaner, but the rich and popular were usually too dumb and busy to notice. Still, she caught her reflection in the plaques on his wall a few times and decided she wanted one. Not for the fact of being praised for something via a wall mount, but because it made a pretty ego stroking mirror. Maybe she’d take one of his and see how long it took him to notice it was gone.

     “Repainted, oh you’re good.” She squints, but is clearly mocking in the same way she’s genuinely intrigued. People who get paid to do weird things amuse Liz. Help people get away with murder (it doesn’t really occur to her that people might not be guilty) feels fun.

              She clicks her tongue and waves him off, like his answer hasn’t satisfied her. It’s not creative, that’s for sure. “It’s a thing. She did a thing then videoed it and put it on youtube. Bitch got nailed, basically.” She looks at the clock; literally no time has passed since she last checked it. She feels like she’s being babysat, and she knows Bash would rather feed himself to the dog than be the babysitter. “Oh come on! Dude, it’s a Greek food truck on Park Avenue and 51st. Like shit, they’ve got these bagel rolls --- so much cheese and bacon and shit in it, you’ll fucking lose your mind.”

[jizz-holt]

edythesh:

“There’s no greasy and delicious pizza like New York pizza, that is true.” Edythe laughed. “I actually grew up in Salamanca, so I can vouch that it is a real place. But you’re right about the name sounding strange. At least to foreign ears. — Thailand’s Hell Garden? I haven’t even looked it up but I already have a small belief that you’re correct.”

         “I mean, there probably is. But I’m willing to ignore the rest of the world’s greasy dollar pizza and vouch for ours.” She admits indifferently, regardless of her statement. “Foreign, wow. So where’s this Salami place anyway?”

[jizz-holt]

chloeharperrp:

“Do we have klepto homeless in Lanford? I thought we were too Pleasantville for that.” Arms full of pieces of the brunette’s life, things that were meaningless to Chloe but had mattered enough to be boxed and transported, she gave a shrug in response. “Sort of. I generally have a constant stream of nonsense ready to go when I don’t want to try and pull together words that actually matter.”

It was something to do, a moment that pulled her out of her usual numbness, and Chloe was grateful for it, taking a tentative step forward. “Where do you want me to put this? Unless you really want the klepto folks to have it, in which case I might lay claim to these blue shoes.”

           “Girl, you’ve either never touched North End with that cute little pinky finger of yours or this place has really gone to the dogs. I mean I guess Republican vote wins all, but shit, still, you know?” She waffles. She doesn’t remember this girl at all, has no idea if she’d even ever met her before. But then half the time when Gus would turn up after a day, it would take Liz a good second to figure out if he was something that belonged to her or not.

          “Man, that’s like --- that’s better than being constantly ready to bail, in my opinion. Like fucking.... why bother ditching someone when you could just make their ears bleed, right?” She admires the girl’s antics in a peculiar way.  

Looking at the woman with her arms full, Liz gives a casual shrug and decides to utilize the manual labor. “Shoes are yours, but not the plunger.” She reaches and snatches it from the top of the pile with the haste someone might grab something that was dear to them. “This little shit’s been through the works with me. Shoes fall apart--- this guy’s forever.” She brandished the plunger and then tucked it under her arm with one swift motion, nodding behind her. “Might as well help me cart it up. I’ve got more to go, I’ll probably be here all day otherwise. The klepto-hands could come in handy if you wanna lend them.”

[jizz-holt]

val-boyd:

Val wasn’t so good with expressions or sarcasm or… jokes. Not that he couldn’t detect one when the time came, but often he was so nervous of stating the wrong thing that he would end up overthinking everything said. Not good for social cues or ‘being a conversational human’, as his sister said. He agreed with that, though. A conversational human, he normally was not. But he kept seeming to run into people hellbent on speaking aloud, and he was never sure if their words were directed at him or not. And it confused him. Perhaps it was an American thing. 

He stopped and watched all the things from the obviously split box tumble. Toiletries mostly. Things she would need. They wouldn’t look better on the floor- ah, joke. Of course. Val bent to pick up a few of the items that had rolled towards him. He rather needed a distraction from going back to work anyways. “I have a feeling toilet paper, hairbrushes, toothpaste, and towels don’t look better on the sidewalk.” He commented, lifting the items in question and, making sure they all balanced on the folded towels he’d tried to pick up with as little mess on them as possible. “Can I put these somewhere for you? Perhaps… out of his reach?” He asked, watching several tampons spill onto the ground while a very wide-eyed child held a now empty box in his grip.  

                 She turns when there’s a voice, one she most definitely knows isn’t familiar to her. Liz is bad with that kind of thing, she’s quirky in the way that she likes to pretend she knows strangers while she ignores the people she actually cares about. She’s an easy conversationalist though, as long as a person isn’t too rigid on their moral code or mind. Eyeing him as he picked the things up, she squints.

         “I mean, you can. I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t physically do...” She begins to pull his leg with more dry humor. “But I was really going for more of an urban art movement --- like something that’ll really catch people’s eyes you know? Make a statement or whatever.” She glanced down to her son playing with the tampon box, empty now, and completely engrossed in it. “Maybe something that super appeals to the youth, you know what I’m saying?”

[jizz-holt]

nolangirl:

                “Language, Liz – he’s what, two years old? You don’t need him going around saying the f-word.” Jenny commented, laughing lightly as she looked down at the child. “Not gonna lie, he looks amazing. More like you than anything. Come here, buddy.” Picking the two year old up, the blonde wrapped her arms securely around his small figure. “It’s good to have you two back. At least now I can have someone to team up with against a-holes around here.”

                She looks at the blond, not over fussed by the reprimanding, but she also knows it’s coming from a place that cares for her. That was the thing about this town, people here gave a shit. About her, about Miles. Even when they hadn’t deserved it the most. There were still people here for her.

          “You think? I guess I do have my dad’s tits and mustache.” She replies, deadpan. But her expression cracks at the edges when Jenny picks Miles up, as if no time has passed at all, and he’s ecstatic to be paid attention to.

         “ A-holes? Come on, Jen, where’d your fire go? Don’t tell me this little old town’s got you calling your snatch a hoo-ha too.”

[jizz-holt]

vicxcarlsson:

Victoria stopped abruptly when random objects ran down the pavement right in front of her. It took her aback, surprising her and distracting her from the text message she was reading in that moment. She was about to crouch down for help when the woman started speaking, taking Victoria by surprise again, frowning at first when she didn’t really understand what the point of her little speech was. Her eyes moved to the little kid next to her, picking up something from the floor, and letting its contents fall all around him. Victoria couldn’t hold back a little laugh, covering her mouth to try and be discrete about it. “If it makes you feel any better, one time this chick dropped a vibrator in the middle of a shopping mall.”

               Ah. There was always the familiar silence. The pondering between when Liz had spoken and a person had to decide if they were going to sheep it and hate her on principal for her brash nature and insensitivity. She was used to it; welcomed it actually, as it was definitely part of Lanford’s old demeanor. A new year, and she couldn’t imagine much had changed in the way of Lanford’s social justice warriors.

              Giving an exhale of mirth, Liz gave a small shrug. “Me and this chick should exchange numbers.” It sounded like something from the pages of her life.

[jizz-holt]

jude-nolan:

Jude watched the scene unfold like a slow disaster with the curl of a smile on his face, unable to conceal his pure delight in seeing either grown up or little person to be back in Lanford. It was like Hollywood going and releasing Pacific Rim 2 early, but better. He would’ve asked why the shit she hadn’t called or texted to announce her return, giving Jude at least an opportunity to buy a crappy bottle of wine or some other half assed homecoming gift, but Liz was to accountability as a snowman was in a sauna.

His eyes went to the wrapped packages that rolled out by his feet, to Miles (jesus, he had grown), then back to her. “Shit, you still need those? I thought you passed that milestone.”

                        Looking down at the wreck then back up at Jude, her face cracked at all the seams, allowing a smile to reach her face. It didn’t feel like forever ago that she would come home to him and Gus passed out due to food coma on the couch, or that they’d all collect around the dining table for take out, warm beer and freshly rolled joints. But as time went on, each of the whacky Ohana had to split off and learn a thing or two about growing up. Jude got sober, Gus got famous, Liz got pregnant, Sierra got a boyfriend, Addie got married…. and so many more. All of them seemed to find a new beginning to stick to, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the way things used to be all that time ago. Still, seeing Jude was like finding a piece of herself from back then, so she clutched onto it for dear life, if only to reminisce.

          “Fuck you, I’m fertile, and practically still twenty-one, thanks.” She argued; her mother hadn’t hit menopause until what seemed like never. Longevity and the ability to come back from basically every hit life had to offer was all part of the Holt gene. She’d be stuffing shit up herself for a while to come, if she was going to turn out anything like Marie Holt.

          “Anyway, where the fuck have you been, I tried calling you.” She said, before breaking into a snort. “No I didn’t, that’s a lie. But whatever, you wanna come look after the shitting machine while I get this stuff inside?”

[jizz-holt]

sarah-bluth:

The red head watched the other individual moving her stuff in. God, she could only imagine how annoying it was. It was almost a year since she’s moved to Lanford, yet she still remember how boring the process was. All those boxes, clothes and heavy lifting. Not to mention her arms were weak and she had to carry every box one by one. 

Sarah approached the brunette, she was holding two bottles of beer. The woman looked stress, so Sarah thought she could use a beer. “Hey.” She said with a chuckle. “Welcome to Lanford.” Sarah said, handing the beer.

                      Tossing a loose odd or end into the back of the truck, Liz turned back when the figure behind her spoke, not really caring for a polite introduction or anything of the like, but she noticed the beer first. Squinting, she turned fully.

         “Shit, it’s like an emergency pack or something. You always carry around the convenient amount of beer for random people on the street?” She was suspicious over the situation, the girl just happened to have two beers, ready to go. If anything, they were almost warm, so that relaxed Liz a little. Made her think this wasn’t some Illuminati shit or something.

                      She wasn’t suspicious enough not to take the offer though, so she grabbed a bottle, rose it in a brief and casual toast, then drank. “Thanks. But lucky for no one, t’s not my first time here.”

[jizz-holt]

chloeharperrp:

“I think Ghandi’s point was that you shouldn’t have any boxes of shit to cause a mess to begin with, but I get where you were trying to go with that.” Chloe had half stifled the snort that came out of her when the little boy upended the box of tampons. Ironic, on the days she felt the most together it seemed as if the world fell apart for everyone around her, like she was one side of a cosmic seesaw and it was her or them.

Long legs took her across the grass, body bending to start picking up some of the items. “Nah you leave this stuff out here and the squirrels will gnaw at it. Then all the messed up chemicals in all the things we make will mutate them. And then you’ll ultimately have an army of mutated squirrels to deal with every morning. Trust me on this.”

               She squinted at the girl, not following on her train of conversation despite her own lapse. Lest she actually make any sense, Liz would have to pay attention harder. And she couldn’t be bothered, not right now, not when she had a whole apartment to fill up before she called and abused Sierra to come help her with it. 

        “And here I was just thinking about the klepto homeless.” She muttered dryly as she watched the woman start picking up her shit like she owed it to her. That was another thing --- people in this town, they were so fucking nice for no reason. It gave Liz the creeps.

        “No thanks. Did you just come up with that then?”

[jizz-holt]

ryxngriffon:

“Oh wow.” Were the only words uttered out of Ryan’s mouth as his hands slowly moved from his pockets. “Do you need help with this, ma’am?” He cocked his head to the side for a second, just as the boy had his own disaster, “because I have two hands that ain’t doin’ much at the moment.” 

               Oh boy did she have a plethora of mocking insults conjuring up in her mind right now at the guys obvious charm and chivalry. Who even called anyone ma’am anymore? It was twenty-seventeen, he might as well have been asking straight out for her gender preference if he was going to be so weird about it all. Still, she was a spiderweb and whether he liked it or not, he was caught in it now.

      “That, my jaunty observer, sounds exactly like the start to a beautiful porno script. I dig it. Except that you’re so missing the assless chaps, but no hay problema, dude --- we can hook you up right after you do me the solid of moving these piece of shit boxes.”

              Making a face, she then looked at the two year old who was chewing on the edge of the Tampex box. “Or hey, if you’re into kids in the non-pedo way, you’re welcome to spawn-sit.”

[jizz-holt]

charlie-jfc:

“Liz… you can’t just leave it out here.” Charlie referenced to the mess, watching as Miles picked up the tampon box and dropped it back on the ground. He chuckled, reaching to scoop the child up and playfully throw him over his shoulder. Charlie had always loved little kids and Liz’s son was the most cutest… though he’d never tell Liz. “I’ll get the other boxes if you want to pick this one up…” He offered, knowing Liz probably wouldn’t clean up the spilt box anyways. 

                Sweeping around to look for the source of the protest, she stared at the man with heavily crumpled brows. Then the confusion cleared when she took a moment to actually look at him, swiftly remembering and giving a crass grin. “It’s like you still need your ears cleaned.” She watched as Miles screamed in joy with all the attention Charlie was giving him. Maybe she wasn’t a great mom, but she was reminded then and there that she still had people around her to pick up the pieces when she couldn't. “But I won’t say no to the box moving though.”

[jizz-holt]

jaxmorgan:

Jaxon had heard that she was back in town, apparently having had moved to the city or – somewhere. Who really knew, he tend to blank out a lot when other people spoke. But the absence of Liz in Lanford was definitely known, therefore he had felt the need to see this with his own eyes at first. As well as her pumpkin seed. He had to be – what? Two, almost three? Still, even after all this time, he found it a hard fact to believe. Then again, he didn’t really know the woman. He stood a few feet away from the destination in which she moved within, a box in hand, and a small child behind her. For a split second, he didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He just watched, and the scene – it brought a strange longing to him. Like something he had missed out on – well, not him. But his sister. His mind swirl around that idea, all the way not seeming or presenting himself much like someone deep in thought. In fact, he looked more statue-like, like a hunter seeking out his prey. His focus being brought back to the present moment when the box she held collapse beneath her and among the ground. She spoke, and he proceeded closer, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Not urging towards to help gather up the pieces of said box. “Glad to see some things never change.” He finally stated, turning his head slightly towards the small kid who was now holding a box of tampons. In that same second, they rested at his feet, and Jax arched a brow, turning his attention back upon Liz, “I’m almost curious to see what he’s going to do with those.”

                 She wasn’t the most quiet of townsfolk, nor was it easy to ever look past Liz and her tirades, as if they simply just didn’t exist in the first place. If there was anything she knew about herself, it was that she knew she was hard to ignore. She’d designed herself that way. So she probably should have assumed that one person would find out she was back, and a grapevine of gossip would ensue over it. She just hoped to get to the people she’d actually given a shit or two about first before anyone else did.

        “Almost would mean picking them up and putting them back. And you ain’t budging.” She called bullshit, trying not to spend too much time looking at Jaxon. His face was one of the few she recognized by instinctive nature, and maybe they hadn’t spent months bonding over their mutual loathing for pretty much everything, she felt like he was among the top list of people she hoped to run into now that she was back. “Grab a box, will ya? Or fuck off and crawl back to where you came from.” The corner of her mouth twitched up before she went back to picking up another cardboard box.

[jizz-holt]

jessixaclements:

Jessica dulled hues stared blankly into the pooling water that was settling on the road opposite her bench, she wasn’t one to sit in the rain and occupy space but she felt adrift. . Her features not faulting when a body occupied the seat next to her –– they were gone, dead. Her parents were obsolete. “Unless you’ve got something amazing to say –– don’t. Unless it’s important, stop.” She mumbled, her eyes finally flickering to the body next to her own and back to the puddle. 

      Liz frowned, her whole forehead creasing up in confusion. Whatever was wrong with the girl, she probably wasn’t going to be able to help. “Amazing? Everything I say is fucking amazing, what’s your problem? You look like someone just died.”

[jizz-holt]

harleymarshxll:

Harley carried her paper bag filled with produce in one hand and scrolled through her newsfeed in another. With her luck, she managed to hook a passerby hard enough to knock the bag from her grasp and have it collapse at her feet. “Fuck,” she groaned, turning around to apologize to the person who’d only kept walking. “Dick,” she hissed out before kneeling down to pick up what could be saved. 

       She felt the magazine catch her knee as she strode on passed, but it was only the woman’s short outburst that made Liz pause and turn. “What --- you’re acting like I did it on purpose... Some people have places to be, you know? Maybe you should get out of the road.”

[jizz-holt]

                 The box tore itself open from the inside out, or at least, that’s what Liz was convinced it had done since all she was doing to be involved was moving it from truck to doorstep. She’d moved away from Lanford a little over a year ago, back to the city to let it swallow her whole, but like anything with its mind in the right place, it knew it spit her back out again the second it hit uvula. There were a few key reasons why she could still leave Lanford completely behind in the dust, and the fact people here had a knack for striking up conversations with randoms, was definitely one of the good ones. But that still didn’t stop her from taking in their expression as her shit clattered and rolled all over the pavement, and giving a decent sigh of eighty-three percent defeat. It was probably karma for warning literally no one that she was coming back to ruin everything for everybody.

       “You know what, no, it’s fine. Leave it there, it looks better this way. My life’s always a fucking mess, this is the way Gandhi or whatever intended it.” She bluffed, always missing the bar on saying what she actually meant, and caring little for the worn Tampax box her son bent over to pick up. He lifted it and allowed all it’s contents to fall to his feet in a mini-mess, eyes following with a blank stare afterwards. Like mother like son.

[jizz-holt]

@sierra-moore.

                    Sometimes, Liz was able to put aside all her shit and throw herself on a train to Lanford, the town that had once become so much a part of her, she always found it a silent struggle to leave. But regardless of her pride, she had friends here. She’d made friends here, and that was a feat she hadn’t been able to do any other place before, no matter how much or little she’d tried. Somehow, for some un-fucking-known reason, it had come easily here, and ever since, she hadn’t been able to shake those people from her thoughts either. And she thought about Sierra a lot when she wasn’t texting her pictures of gross people on the subway, reciting something hilarious she’d caught in passing from people in the city, or simply texting her a photo of her lunch burrito because she missed her. The truth was, even when she’d tried to move on from this life and put herself out in the world again, she could shake anything that had ever happened to her except this damn town. 

                    She couldn’t shake the bar fights her and Si had almost caused on countless messy nights of drinking, couldn’t shake the comfort she felt when she came home to find Jude passed the fuck out on her couch, BJ curled into his stomach like a pathetic excuse for a guard dog. She couldn’t shake the wholesome unit of a dumb family she’d created with fellow kids who found themselves whole and not so when it came to people actually related to them, and couldn’t shake how familiar the streets felt to her whenever she allowed herself to walk them again. This place felt like home, and that wasn’t a feeling Liz had ever come to know before. She hadn’t grown up here, but she’d grown here. These people, these streets and buildings, the sticky bar seats of The Cellar, the over saturated smell of Muncher’s friers from the car park, the low glow of Lammar’s and the scuffed pavement in front of Lanford’s Police Station... they were all places that Liz knew as well as she knew her own body. For a time, Lanford had been the only place happy to always have her. She’d never felt like that before in her life.

                    Catching up with Sierra was always better in person, she was one of the few that made Liz’s sides ache with laughter and introduce new perspectives, ones Liz wasn’t actually too stubborn to look from. Sierra was a reality check but better, usually because she came paired with tequila somewhere along the line. Like now, three cocktails in (because slammers and shooters weren’t allowed at the tables, who knew?) and Miles in a highchair beside them, Liz slapped some keys down on the table between them.

        “Alright, stop being a piece of shit and shut up for a second. I have something to tell you---” She knew the second she said this, Sierra was going to come up with her own list of possible news, so for a good two seconds, she let her roll. Then, she interrupted. “--- I’m moving back.” She laid it out plain and simple, letting the other woman react. “I put my name on an apartment that’s getting cleared out at the end of the week in North End, it’s right around the block from the first hole we crawled into here.” She said. “Because, like, I’m just sick of being fucking alone in that piece of shit apartment, staring at the walls all day, making excuses that it’s not always going to be like this. Like one day I’m just gonna wake up and I’m no longer going to have to be a mom, or that Gus is gonna stop doing what he loves for five minutes just so I can let my guard down and admit I’m actually not okay with being the East Coast Girl while he’s the West Coast Guy, you know?” Her voice was strained with it’s natural husk, but even as they joked and shit talked, Liz wanted to be real with Sierra for a second. She also knew that out of everyone, Sierra would get it. Her and Zack had done it, and for a while, it seemed like it had worked. Until it hadn’t. “And like every time I get shitty about a place and get that urge to find a new one, I realize it’s not really about anyone else, it’s about me. I’m unhappy with me, and I need to stop treating myself like it’s a crime to be pissed off at myself and ruining every opportunity I get to be happy. So I got online a few weeks ago and I put a deposit down on the first garbage dump I could find.” She looked to Sierra finally, full in the face. “And you’re fucking helping me move in this weekend, I don’t care what old lady Zumba class you’re doing or whose dog needs walking.”