THE LOWS DON'T SEEM SO LOW.

you're probably like the sweetest girl i've ever known — but i'll probably fuck it up ... 'cos to me falling in love is uncomfortable .

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[dailypaddys]

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margcts:

it’s easy for margot to pretend she doesn’t care about jordan when he’s far away - a concept in her mind, an untouchable object. but when they’re close it’s a different story entirely. he has a magnetic pull over her, it seems: she’s always moving just a little bit closer than she should be. this moment is no exception as she slides over to him, placing a small hand on his arm. but then she smiles at his words, and this time it’s all calculated; a small bite to her lip, a quick flutter of eyelashes. “well, you know what they say,” she speaks, words dripping from her tongue like honey, slow and sweet and falsely innocent. she pauses for a moment, making damn sure he’s listening before her next words spill out. “talk is cheap, honey.” her lips curve into a smirk, and she looks up at him with trouble in her eyes. she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but hell was it nice.

POWER and CONTROL— it’s all jordan knows in the dance they share together; a dangerous waltz between falling in and out of love that, veritably, he’s still learning how to perform. it’s always been about ( dominance ) ... a game of limitations and pressure to see who’ll be the first to   b e n d   beneath the other’s thumb, breaking backwards for a place cruel and loveless people like them could never REACH. for many, the relationship did not bode well from the very start— as it played off of each other’s egos, building themselves up only to break them down harder. but disaster, as inevitable as it is with a girl like her, is something he’d always been fond of. and margot has always been his favorite heartbreak. in the end, no matter what he thinks about the whole situation, they're always going to be destined for tragedy. and jordan’s not the type of person to defy fate. what he can do in the meantime is indulge in the moments he has left with her— knowing that eventually, like most things, they’d come to a bittersweet end. perhaps knowing that made him only want her more ... because with his hands braced against the curve of her hips and his lips closing the distance between them, all jordan can think about is how he NEEDS her. close enough to almost taste the gloss on her lips, he leans in to murmur, “then maybe you’d like to show me, margot—” her name is delicious on his tongue ( sweet, short, and painfully addictive to say ), “—what exactly it is that you want.”

[thutmosethe3rd]

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[scraya-blog]

now i be fuckin' with these bitches like they hypo-allergenic ( w o m e n ) are from VENUS; caught in L O V E playing tennis some girls are the   lebron james   of playing   mind   g a m e s and switch their home team up every single time their mind CHANGE

[scraya-blog]

zoetomi:

“ not so much crazy for you – more like crazy because of you. wait a minute – you seriously aspired to be a gigolo ?? this just keeps getting better and better. you know, most kids would have answered ‘ pop star , ’ or ‘ astronaut , ’ but i’ll give you credit for knowing what you wanted so early in life. true. like zoro totoro needs her jordy oh lordy, lydia fuckunaga needs her raleigh danes. it must be written in the stars or something that we’re destined to never leave each other’s sides. ”

“how about we agree to disagree, tomika? i mean, this huge and whopping crush of yours – i won’t tell if you don’t. hey, listen. don’t pass your judgment off on me. i had big dreams when i was younger. fuck all my presidential aspirations and songwriter dreams. being a gigolo was my real all time goal. but seriously though. how much am i going to have to pay you to retire that disgusting nickname of yours? i’m starting to get afraid that it’s gonna catch on around here. and should that happen, you can be certain that there’ll be hell to pay, zoe. don’t think our friendship will save you this time. i’ve fallen for your stupid little smile enough times to know better now.”

[scraya-blog]

plzlennon:

if there was one thing that was EASY to figure out about lennon, it was that she absolutely, without a doubt, L O V E D acting. it was something that always came naturally to the young girl. whether it be when she starred in her first play, ( THE WIZARD OF OZ ), and had the pleasure of p r a n c i n g around the stage as dorthy, or even now as she got to challenge herself in the difficult task of portraying roselyn, she put her heart and soul into the craft. it didn’t matter what role you threw at the girl, she’d take it and deliver a performance that was damn near perfect. with slender fingers tapping at the table in front of her, she focused on memorizing the last few lines of her upcoming scene. she had a gift of being able to memorize lines and cues effortlessly, but she still worried about stumbling on set. with bright eyes zoned out on the few of donuts set out across from her, she only realized how she must’ve looked when she heard the familiar voice next to her. “huh-” she mumbled, perking her head up to flash him a small smile. “oh gosh, i wasn’t even thinking ‘bout touching them. i can never eat before i film, my stomach gets all rumbly with nerves and i’m convinced the microphone picks up on it.” she chuckled, turning to face JORDAN completely. “are you alright? you seem extra tired today. i could make you some coffee if you’d like? you already know i make the best around.” she smirked. 

only jordan would have the kind of luck that would compel him to say something as IDIOTIC as that in front of the one girl that, strangely enough, had such a baffling and ( s i g n i f i c a n t ) effect on him. he wasn’t entirely sure what it was about lennon that made his tongue twist into serpentine shapes, over and under itself-- tripping over simple words and lost thoughts that he’d kept swallowed in the back of his throat. something about her was an ENIGMA. a mystery shrouded behind powder blue eyes and lips stained sunset pink. and though he’d never been the curious type, instead preferring to allow things to settle in the silence that surrounded them, lennon was the kind of question he could spend a lifetime trying to answer. so, despite there being many things jordan wasn’t sure of in life-- his career, his love life, his family-- he took a deep comfort in being certain of lennon’s existence, so unlike the vast multitude of girls he typically spent his time with, and how she didn’t just GLOW when he looked at her-- she BLINDED him. it was a dangerous attraction; one that balanced on a fine line between disaster and disappointment ... and jordan’s clumsy steps, so inexperienced from anything as real as this, had no chance on surviving the circus act that was their friendship. at lennon’s offer, he had to really consider what it was he wanted from her-- the TRUTH stuck to the roof of his mouth like glue, hardening with the relentless tick of time, and he struggled to fight past the urge to ask for more. jordan smiled softly,”i’m alright. i just haven’t slept yet.” he glanced at his watch, hazel eyes hooding over exhaustion, and did the quick and simple math. it’d been two days since he’d last gone to bed ... and he was only now beginning to feel the effects of it in his bones. weary and oddly touched by her suggestion, he said, “sure. i prefer it black but if you feel that a dash of bleach might just PERK me up, then by all means, don’t let me stop you from your creative duty.”

[scraya-blog]

there was something inherently unnatural about acting— ( i n h u m a n ), even. like pinning butterfly wings against dry and aged corkboards or pressing flowers in between the pages of stale and forgotten books. something as visceral as the experiences of human life— what with the pleasures, the OBSCENITIES, the ghastly, and the ( b e a u t y ) of it all ... they were never meant to be preserved, they were meant for the brave to conquer. only those that were COURAGEOUS enough to defy social norms became the versions of themselves they truly wanted to be — instead of pretending to become somebody they never were and would be. and, now, standing here with a script rolled up in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other — he found the entire process of filming ... well, pointless. what was his fucking purpose in being here? filming for a show that’d inevitably be cancelled in favor of another tv sitcom blindly chasing after the trends of social media? what came NEXT? everything was temporary here: the lights, the fame, the set, the people. perhaps that was the answer TMZ needed upon asking: “why does jordan blake not seem to care about anyone — or anything?”

maybe because everything and everyone was fleeting; disappearing and reappearing in his life as quick as they’d first come. and trying to make sense of it all was tiring. he was goddamn EXHAUSTED with understanding why, why, why, why people disappointed him so. so, it’d just become a habit with concerning himself more on when and less on the why. it was while he was thinking this that someone stood beside him, perhaps to help themselves to the snacks that had been prepared for them. jordan, feeling a bit social today, decided to speak first, “ the donuts have been out since 5am. i’m not saying that eating them would kill you, but i’m also saying you probably shouldn’t be eating them. “

[o-dylanstiles]

[scraya-blog]

「 TMZ BREAKING NEWS! JORDAN BLAKE SEEN LEAVING THE BEVERLEY WILSHIRE EARLIER TODAY! 」                                                                                                                                         by Diana Mariano

IT'S BEEN DAYS SINCE WE'VE SEEN HIM. TO BE HONEST, WE HARDLY KNOW WHERE HE IS HALF THE TIME.

has jordan blake, notorious for his scandalous hollywood affairs & questionable past time activities, taken on a full-time lover? according to a source who works closely with him on the new netflix series, university, blake has been consistently running late to rehearsals for the past week in a disheveled and distracted manner. his erratic behavior was the first tip off to those around him that perhaps something drastic has changed for him in regards to his love life. normally known to be quite focused and put together, blake’s newly adopted chaotic and unorganized attitude is strangely reminiscent of an adolescent boy with a serious summer time crush-- too excited to eat, too happy to sleep, and all together too in love to think. although he went on to dismiss these rumors, having said during an ellen interview last thursday that he was “too busy for a real relationship”, there’s been a heaping amount of evidence lately proving quite the opposite. 

for example, other than performing his contractual duties to the show by performing on set and attending the standard and obligatory promotional events, blake’s whereabouts has been rather difficult to trace for the past week. while his colleagues meet up together to share a meal on their off hours, he’s no where to be found-- not in the background of their hilarious snaps or present in any of the instagram photos tagging the university cast. now, even though blake has always been known to be quite the recluse, preferring the peace of his privacy over being in the spotlight, the silence on his social media has been deafening-- leaving fans to ask if he’s alright and if he will return. another example pointing us to the direction of “part time bachelor to full time boyfriend”, has been the visiting of odd and peculiar places for someone of his nature. when blake was able to be located in the past week by fans, it was usually in stores such as victoria’s secret, the french florist, and bath and body works. it doesn’t take a mathematician to conclude that blake’s been running around for his mysterious lady friend, trying to concoct some sort of romantic date!

and not to mention today on the scene reporters from tmz caught him leaving the beverley wilshire, one of los angeles’ most expensive five star, luxury hotels, around 2pm. upon asking for a quote, this journalist was responded with a curt and brusque “get that fucking camera out of my face”. poor blake! he must have been so surprised by our camera crew that he immediately reacted on an impulse. now, our theory? blake has been secretly meeting his girlfriend in one of the wilshire’s many beautiful suites in order to avoid putting their relationship on our radar. if you ask me, it’s rather an expensive hobby for a boy like him-- being that each night in the wilshire is a hefty price of a thousand dollars. but for jordan? it must be a love worth the cost! we’re so excited for him and wish him luck in this relationship. and one more thing is for sure, we just can’t wait to uncover the identity of the woman who’s got his heart!

[cherchezlaflow-deactivated20190]

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[scraya-blog]

she’s all that i want.. she’s all that i  ( need ) , i’m filling your cup up with sprite and   c o d e i n e   . she get me so HIGH but i’m ( d o w n ) on my knees. was it your DESIRE? your life or that lean? wait a minute. cause ain’t shit changed, just a different day. this the kinda PAIN i just couldn’t take away.

[timotaychalamet]

Closer (2004) dir. Mike Nichols

[dailypaddys]

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♕, ≡ ( I may be movie but I will not be stopped )

♕ = bowing down before them .

smiling was a rather serious offense against the aloof and solitary nature hollywood had assigned jordan — but maybe the mold had been cast for a reason, and now, breaking out into that dumb little grin of his was, somehow, a crime to the type of person he stood for. whereas devin was sunflowers in a room, anxious kisses behind the school bleachers, a first time summer’s ( l o v e ), bike riding up and down a dusty road, and a swim in the salty blue sea — jordan was forgotten cigarette buds, chipped glass beer bottles, bruised knuckles and bloody bandages, drowning in the darkness of a motel room, and leaving before dawn. they were polar opposites and yet two faces of the same coin. where he basked in his evil, relishing in the moments that made him feel truly  A L I V E, devin held him steady — hanging onto a rope he’d tied long ago, and so close they were together that if jordan fell, he would only naturally drag devin down with him. it was because of that image that made him wary of the things he did. and while it tired him to be kept on his toes around the boy, it also made him feel … happy to have some form of purpose with devin. he really couldn’t help it, though. there was something about him that just made him want to protect him. and laugh. god, did devin make him wanna laugh sometimes. not in a mean or pompous way but rather in an ( innocent ) and childlike manner. as if they were kids again, stubby legs and scraped knees and sticky hands, just lost in the span of time and stuck in the wrong bodies. there was an eerie, nostalgic feeling about devin’s carefree attitude. like someone had left the television on in the night and he was left still playing a character even when nobody else but him was watching. sometimes it baffled jordan to think of how someone could be so happy. looking at devin now, bowing before him with that ear splitting, toothy grin, it made him realize how loved devin must be. nobody could be that well adjusted without the proper foundation to start on. while jordan was fighting to keep his grounding on a hill of salt and sand, there kneeling before him was a wholesome kid, still learning the rights and wrongs of the world, bred from loving parents, white picketed suburbs, and genuine friends. there was a pang of jealousy for a split second— so visceral, so shattering to know that this could have been him somewhere in an alternate universe. the ache in his heart did not subside as he picked devin up, the smile wavering on his face as he chuckled, “you don’t bow to me. you’re a king on your own right, weber.”

≡ = offering a place to stay overnight .

"i’ll be fine,” jordan slurred as he swatted devin’s hands off of his shoulders, “don’t worry about me. you just worry about eating your vegetables, man. i still don’t know how you’re alive. you eat your weight in fucking cheetos. i just wish you’d listen to your dad for once and eat a cabbage or something. fuck.” much like any other drunk, jordan was vaguely aware of the spectacle he was creating now in front of the club, but was far too gone to really care much about it ( this would be a problem for his sober but painfully hangover self to deal with in the morning ). it wasn’t typical for him to be so drunk ( because after abusing alcohol for so long, he’d built quite the tolerance to it, and therefore knew how to hold his liquor ) but jordan chalked it up to a rough night and an empty stomach. rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he attempted to refocus his vision on his friend, a lopsided smile growing in place of the frown that was just there, “listen, i’d love to sleep over, but i really ought to get my mom’s permission first. she likes to know where i am at all times,” he joked half-heartedly, knowing fully well that he could have died a thousand times and his mother still wouldn’t have given the slightest damn. “just call me an uber or something,” he slung an arm over devin’s shoulder, "or you could let me go to sleep on this concrete. whichever works for me."

[scraya-blog]

☾ஐ▤☁⇕♢✦

☾ = being found shirtless .

12:42am– the glare of jordan’s phone lit the back of his driver’s car, illuminating a tired and forlorn face in the darkness. there was a certain depth to the silence of the drive – an unspoken peace that lay in between the slow and steady breaths he took and the clicking of the turn signals. it was ataractic to be in the company of himself, to be floating ( f r e e l y ) in the void – amorphous in the haze of his drunken stupor and alive in a world that had been paused. jordan had been out for the past fifteen hours, running on energy drinks and coffee alone, promoting the show through pointless events and signings – and had even topped the night off with a visit at the AVALON. shifting his eyes from the screen, he watched as the streetlights blurred into a stream of steady colors – spots of orange and yellow dancing along the midnight edge. when the car pulled up to the front of the house, he mumbled his thanks before getting out. steadying himself against the frame of the door, he looked up at zoe’s apartment wondering exactly how he got there. fuck. he must have given the driver the wrong address. but as quick as he’d come, the man had sped off, leaving jordan to wonder if he had intentionally come here after all. it was too late, he decided as he ambled up to the porch, zoe wouldn’t mind if he crashed for the night. after all, what had been the purpose of giving him a copy of her key if she never intended him to use it? jordan opened the door, fighting back the urge to yawn, and allowed himself in. now, where the hell was her guest room? unsure of where to even begin looking, he walked up the stairs and opened the door on his left, certain that this was the place he’d slept the last time he was over.

“oh, shit,” were the only words he could manage as he caught zoe in her topless glory – wide eyed and slack jawed at his sudden appearance. it briefly occurred to jordan that he should avert his gaze, or perhaps … even better yet, leave the room out of courtesy. but drunk and somewhat fascinated with the contours of her body, he found it difficult to really walk away. “i didn’t think you knew i was coming,” jordan teased as he crossed his arms, “but maybe next time, you could lose the winnie the pooh bra. it’s really killing the vibe here, don’t you think?”

ஐ = slapping them .

for as long as he knew her, zoe had always been something of a lion heart. and because of it, jordan couldn’t help but secretly admire her. after all, when she spoke, it was like drinking whiskey – he could always feel the punch before he did the heat of her words. and uncannily enough, he would get warm from the exchange of unpleasantries, as if zoe had been getting him drunk off her anger. it was sick in a sense, to derive a deep pleasure from pushing her to her limits, but there was a beauty in her madness – one that jordan selfishly thrived off of. he liked the pomegranate blood in her cheeks, red and ( v i b r a n t ) in hue, and the twitch in her brow as she enunciated his name. the way she could say it could strike him so painfully – every syllable thick and heavy on her tongue, the sound of her straining voice rushing down in waves. but as difficult as he was at times, jordan respected his friend – perhaps the only friend he could really confide in – and thus, knew when to leave when he’d upset her a notch above the appropriate state for the both of them. there were only a few things that their friendship could not survive and jordan wasn’t always keen on testing what they might be. he valued zoe, more than he would like to admit, and although frustrating her was something he enjoyed – it also came with a shred of guilt. he suppose he was fond of her … and all her complexities, stupidity and all, and so when she struck him with all the force she could muster in such a small frame as hers – it took quite a bit of discipline to steel himself and regain his cool, unbothered composure. he reminded himself that this was a girl he truly, deeply cared about … in a way he could not possibly fathom, and took a deep breath. alright. perhaps mentioning zoe’s horrible tendency of dating wrong people was one of those topics he had no right to bring up. he noted this as he rubbed his sore jaw. “i deserved that,” he allowed after a long sigh, “but next time, go for the other cheek. we need to even up the bruises.”

▤ = falling asleep on them .

in the past few months that they’d been together, looking after zoe had become more or less of a habit. now, for someone who was quite accustomed to ( never mind comfortable with ) being alone, jordan found this change to be particularly unwelcome. he was happy living in solitude. ecstatic even. it was liberating to do what he damn well pleased without ever having to think twice about the repercussions of his poorly made decisions. it was partially the reason why he found it so hard to be in a committed relationship. having to answer to someone every hour of the day ( “where are you?”, “what are your plans tonight?”, “want to grab dinner?” ) or consider someone else in any major life decisions – it sounded fucking tiring! there was no freedom in dating. and jordan had never been the type of person to willingly allow someone into his life like that. he fought all potential girls off, keeping them at a comfortable distance where he could both see and leave them whenever he wanted, and there had been a lot of effort put into protecting himself from them. it was also protection for them. he’d never been the best person to be with – what with his penchant for dangerous things and a passion for toxicity – and it was quite possible that he was an unsuitable boyfriend in all respects. so, for all intents and purposes, jordan blake was simply a better bachelor than he was anything else. naturally, it came as quite a blow to his personal ego when he realized that someone, somehow managed to hurdle over the many walls he’d built. so easily, too! in fact, he hadn’t even noticed that zoe had wormed herself into his life until he caught himself shopping at the grocery store – stuck between buying tampons or pads for her ( thinking about all the discomfort of shoving something up there when it was already a bloody, bonafide mess, he ultimately went with the pads ). their friendship was a whirlwind of emotions – and as grounded as he claimed to be, he couldn’t help but be swept away with her whenever they were together. it was a little too easy to pretend, he thought as he watched her sleep on his lap, that things were normal. she’d domesticated him – like a goddamn animal. she had him running her errands, looking after her when she was ill, and worrying about her when she didn’t return a call ( well, she always did ). how annoying. to be so emotionally tethered to someone who would inevitably, like all the others, leave. jordan turned his gaze away from her. what a mess she’d made for him. and where to even begin fixing it – he had no idea.

 ☁ = being caught in the middle a storm with them .

he promised himself he wouldn’t say it, he swore on his first born son that he wouldn’t utter the three fucking words that would, undoubtedly, send him to his grave. jordan knew he shouldn’t, not if he wanted to live another hour or so, but he figured that with all things considered – the feeling of satisfaction from looking at her face would be so fucking gratifying, so delicious, that he would gladly take the brunt of her anger anytime. “i was right,” he said victoriously, a big grin overtaking his face, “i told you it was going to rain. i told you but you never listen to me.” the irony in this was sickening, given that it was almost always zoe saying these exact words to him, and he hoped that the humor in this was not lost on her. but judging by the expression on her face, she didn’t find this as amusing as he did. which was really a shame because the weather was actually quite nice – and he never minded a little rain in the presence of good company. “don’t be mad, princess,” he smirked as he opened up his umbrella, “the walk home won’t be so bad. come on.”

⇕ = holding their hand .

as stupid as it was, he believed that there were three cardinal rules in maintaining a healthy and platonic friendship. number one: do not establish an emotional connection that one might regret in a future point in time. number two: do not give the other person a drawer worth of space at the home as it is an invasion of your space and implies a desire for more intimacy. number three: do not hold their hand unless there is a justifiable reason that would be approved by a jury of your peers. up until today, jordan was making do with the best of the situation he’d been given. sure, so zoe might have already broken the first two rules – from having shoved her head so deeply into his deep rooted issues that he worried if it was still screwed on … to even demanding more closet space at his place – but the friendship was still salvageable. this was something he knew. it had to be. jordan was determined not to allow their friendship teeter on that dangerously fine line between pals and lovers. it wasn’t very often, anyway, that he was liked someone so much that he wasn’t going to jeopardize the relationship over a stupid high school impulse. he was fine with the way things were. content. being friends with zoe was like eating a great meal and forgoing the dessert – so, yeah, there might be that fleeting sense of disappointment at the thought of what could have been, but the overwhelming joy of knowing that he had resisted temptation would always be far sweeter. he took comfort in this thought as he walked alongside zoe, their footsteps somehow always falling in alignment. jordan glanced at her, somehow meeting her gaze, and offered a small smile. as he was facing her direction, he caught a glimpse of their reflection in the glass panels. he observed their mirror selves, contemplating for a moment if it was possible that they were just parallel versions of themselves, because it seemed like… almost as if they were holding hands in the glass. jordan looked down at his hand instantly. sure enough, the culprit was linked together with zoe’s hand, and without the slightest change in expression – he slowly withdrew from her grasp and shoved his fist into his pocket. holy shit. how did she always know how to break the rules he had in motion? jordan sighed as he sped up his pace. if she wasn’t going to play the game, he’d have to change it all up on her. 

♢ = reading them a story .

"you’re killing me,” jordan groaned and rolled onto his back. he was now facing upwards, hazel eyes glued to the popcorn ceiling and course hands hanging off the side of the bed, and yet no matter what position he assumed – he could not get comfortable with zoe droning on in the background. “please, stop,” he begged, his voice edging on tired, “i’ve listened to you read this book a thousand times. i understand you love proust but if you’re going to insist on reading in search of lost time, can you please do it in english?” jordan loved when zoe spoke french, really he did, but in between mentally rehearsing his lines, deciphering the many mixed signals he was getting from lennon, to debating what he should eat for dinner – translating the words to understandable english was a task he simply did not have the energy nor the want to do. propping himself onto his elbows, he opened his phone and dialed a number, “if i can’t shut you up, will pizza?”

✦ = being well-dressed .

"u look nice” jordy said as he looked @ zoe

[themartinnguyen]

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[scraya-blog]

typical me, deceptively dreaming of a real kind of love… ( not just somebody to talk to ) am i so wrong for trusting in fate so long ? don’t wanna end up alone got a   t o u c h   so good, make you feel better than you knew you could ! someone out there is the one for me somehow i know you’re there, i’ve been ready and waiting are you the one, baby ?

[chicgarden]