Lila stayed after school at the insistence of her math teacher who’s concern grew as she failed yet another test. She hated math most of all. Numbers spun around in her head, as if they were a foreign language. The brunette thought about skipping out of the tutoring session, but it almost seemed like less trouble just to show up an appease the adult. Lila tip toed a line - careful not to bring too much attention to herself, so no one looked too far into her home life.
The teenage girl unlocked the front door, pushing the screeching screen in. She tossed her backpack on the table. The square house was small, only containing 1 floor and 3 rooms, not including the bathroom. The kitchen and the living room shared one space. Lila’s room, that she use to share with her sister, was to the right. Her mother’s room sat on the left. A stack of mail, mostly bills, piled up on the kitchen table along with some dirty dishes. Lila thought her mother would have been at work, but the TV hummed lowly in the corner of the room. Her dark eyes traced to the other side of the room. All she could see from this angle was her mother’s hand hanging off the side of the couch next to a half empty bottle of Whiskey.
“Hey, mom.” Lila croaked out almost positive her mother was passed out. Silence echoed back to her. She untied her toes, kicking them to the side before making her way towards the couch. The light from the TV highlighted her moms face. Lila often wondered what the woman looked like prior to all of the drinking. Now her mother often looked ill, like she had the flu. Lila sat on the ground next to the couch, picking up the bottle of alcohol. She checked over her shoulder one more time to make sure her mother was sleeping before taking a swig for herself. Lila hated Whiskey. It tasted like a dead old man, in her opinion. She was starting to realize the more she drank it, the less it tasted like garbage.
Lila placed it back down on the ground. In some ways, times like these were when she felt closest to her mom. When she was younger, after her sister passed, she found she had no one to speak to anymore. The young girl would talk to her mother, asleep on the couch, because it seemed when she was awake she wanted nothing to do with Lila.
She hadn’t done it in a while, finding comfort in others now. “Some guy at school said he wanted to have sex with me. He said it like it was a compliment, but I’m not sure. I might do it. Have sex with him, I mean. He’s cute. I think he’s popular. Maybe he’d invite me to parties if I did.” Her stream of conscience started flowing from her lips. Her eyes traced the characters fighting on TV, even though she had no idea what was happening. “I think I want to have sex with someone else and maybe it will be helpful to know what I’m doing beforehand.”
Lila turned back to look at her mother, noticing now for the first time she looked different than normal. She fought the instinct to call an ambulance, recalling the other time she did that her mother was furious. The teen didn’t know they costed money. The lanky brunette stood from her spot quickly, running over to rummage through the cabinets for a metal bowl. She’d done this before. She placed the metal bowl right next to the couch as she rolled her mother over, so her head was hanging just slightly. Lila pried the woman’s mouth open, delicately sticking her fingers down her throat. She hoped she hadn’t gotten home too late. Her fingers poked at the back of the fleshy tube until her mother’s limp body started to retract. She couldn’t move her hand in time, catching some of the bile on her skin. With her other hand, she held the older woman’s hair as she began to vomit into the metal bowl.
Lila sat there petting her mother’s hair for around a half an hour, before the woman peeled herself from the surface of the couch. Not a word was exchanged between the two. She tried to tell herself her mother was simply embarrassed, but it was hard not to let darker thoughts seep into her mind. Did her mother not love her? Did her mother wish she’d been the one that drowned in the pond instead of her sister? Lila felt the cycle of thoughts begin as she watched her mom walk to the bathroom and shut the door.
She carried the dirtied bowl to the kitchen, rinsing it out over and over until the stench seemed almost gone. Maybe she should call Mari and see if she could sleep over, or see if Josh was still awake. Lila shuffled down the carpeted hall to her room, closing the door slowly behind her. She peeled off her clothes tossing them in the pile by her dresser. Tears began to stream down her face as she climbed into bed.
In the silence of the house, she heard the shower turn off. Her mother closed the bedroom door behind herself, only to leave the house entirely a few minutes later. Lila wondered where she went. She wondered what made her mother so sad. All she wanted to do was fix it.
Lila climbed out of bed, now with the house to herself. She grabbed the Whiskey bottle from beside the couch, bringing it back to her room. It felt like the only thing she knew about her mother. She wanted to understand, and she was beginning to. The teenage girl laid back in bed, taking swigs of the amber liquid as the rush of intoxication began to consume her. It felt better than the pain of wondering. It certainly did.
Characters: Jasper (age 20); feat. DJ, an npc
Summary: One of his more significant break-ups in a long line of failed relationships
Time Period: September 8, 2015, 2:30pm
Setting: In DJ’s car, outside Jasper’s dorm building in Vancouver
Tags: @vancityroleplay
Trigger warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of death, mentions of bullying and implied homophobia
It’s late afternoon, but you wouldn’t know it from the lack of sunlight. The sky is one colossal dark gray cloud and the ferocity of the ongoing thunderstorm suggests the world is coming to an end. Jasper has his hood up when he runs to DJ’s idling blue Jeep, but he’s still soaking when he climbs inside.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, pushing the hood down and ruffling his hair. “I got super distracted with that project for my sculpture class.” Evidenced by the paint all over his hands and up his arms, but at least his hoodie covers the worst of it. “It’s coming together though, it looks awesome, you should come inside and see it later.”
DJ says nothing. His elbow is leaned against the window, fingers in his hair, the other hand in his lap, holding his phone. The rain drums endlessly against the car.
“What?” Jas presses after a minute, already annoyed. It’s so fucking classic DJ, quietly seething about something instead of just saying it. “What’s your problem now?”
“You fucked Ian,” says DJ bluntly, finally turning his head. Jasper’s chest contracts, but an angry, helpless sort of self-righteousness safely buries the guilt before it can make him too sick to his stomach.
“And?“ he says coolly. “I didn’t realize you were monitoring my sexual activity, Deej. I could’ve made it easier and started a Google sheet for you.”
“God, you’re so fucking —” He breaks off, hand coming away from his hair to ball into a fist briefly and go limp again. Jas can see his jaw muscles working, too. His own posture hardens, but worst of all, he can feel his throat swelling up like it does when his emotions take him off guard and there’s suddenly a horrible possibility of tears. Normally, this wouldn’t bother him — he hasn’t given a shit in years what anybody thinks about him sleeping around, but DJ is different. Because he likes DJ. Kind of a lot, actually, only he’s still been trying to figure out how to deal with that.
“I’m so fucking what?”
“Selfish,” says DJ. “You’re so fucking selfish, Jasper.”
Jasper laughs incredulously. “For fucking Ian? Are you serious?”
“Are you serious?” asks DJ. “You’re gonna fuck one of my friends —?”
“Your friends?” Jasper echoes, twisting in his seat and raising his voice. “I’m sorry, what the fuck am I, a leech?”
“Oh my god —”
“No, I’m glad you’re being honest,” Jas cuts him off. “I’m so, so glad you’re being honest, DJ, because I wouldn’t wanna go around thinking your pretentious asshole friends actually like me when they’re really just tolerating me like they would any of your hookups —”
“We’re just hookups, huh?”
“What does that even mean?” Jasper demands. His heart is pumping so hard he can feel it in his fingertips, and far off in the distance there’s a low, threatening roll of thunder. “What the fuck does that even mean, what else are we supposed to be? Boyfriends?”
DJ stares at him a few seconds, frowning, like he’s trying to read beneath the words, then says in a low voice, “I thought we were…” He shakes his head. “Something.”
“We literally fuck other people all the time,” says Jas.
“Yeah,” DJ agrees, “strangers. One night stands. Not my fucking friends.”
“I’m sorry, is this for real?” Jasper laughs. The tears are finally stinging behind his eyes. “So we were, like, unspokenly ‘something,’ whatever the fuck that means, while also openly having casual sex with other people every weekend and you being literally incapable of showing any emotion towards me that isn’t horny or angry or both?”
“We talked about my fucking dead cousin a couple weeks ago, Jasper!” DJ shouts just as a deafening crack of thunder rattles the sky. To Jasper’s utter horror, he realizes he isn’t the only one on the verge of tears. “Last week you were telling me about that dude who bullied you in high school!”
“Yeah, and then you blew me off to fuck some girl from your Poli Sci class the next day.”
“I didn’t fucking blow you off!” DJ says. “We didn’t have plans —!”
“Oh, we didn’t have plans!” says Jas, approaching hysterics. “Cool cool cool, so let me just get this straight. We’re something when I feel like fucking somebody so you can act all betrayed and shit but when you’re telling me you’re too busy to hang out because you’re fucking someone, that’s, like, totally fine and normal.”
“You fucked Ian!” DJ says again. The side of his fist comes down on the wheel. “How do you not see the difference there?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me you fucking liked me then!” Jas yells, and wipes furiously at his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You could’ve just said it!”
“You’re impossible to talk to, Jasper.” His voice is cold and Jasper realizes suddenly that something has broken between them. Just like that, with no warning or gentle easing into it. “I never know what the fuck you want from me, don’t act like I could’ve just come out and been like, ‘hey, by the way, it’d be cool if we could go on a date or something,’ when you know you’d have sprinted in the other direction after laughing at me.”
“Incredible, that’s your assumption, is it —?”
“I’m not finished,” DJ says over him, and Jasper’s jaw clicks shut. “I can’t keep up with you anymore. One day you’re talking about how it’s hot when we ‘hate fuck,’ whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean, and I never said anything ‘cause, like, yeah, it was fun at first when you were this really interesting and super hot little fucking freak obviously starting fights with me on purpose, whatever, we both got off on it. But then lately you have these moments sometimes where you’re, like…” He pauses, clenches his jaw, swallows, and Jasper wipes at his cheeks again but stays silent. “You’re, like, kinda soft or whatever? And it seems like maybe you’d want more. But then the other night I asked you to stay over and you got all freaked out and left. And then you fucked. Ian.” He sighs. “And that’s it for me, Jas. I’m not doing this anymore with you, it’s emotionally exhausting.”
Jasper licks his lips and turns away to stare out the windshield, where the wipers are working fruitlessly against the downpour.
“Okay,” he says.
Next to him, DJ shakes his head again and utters a short, humorless laugh. “Okay,” he echoes.
“So we’re not going to Opus, then.”
“Nothing to say, huh?”
“What do you want me say? You just told me you’re not doing this anymore.”
“And that’s cool with you?” says DJ. “You’re fine just calling it quits, just like that?”
“What should I do, DJ?” says Jasper sarcastically. “Beg you to give me a chance to explain myself? Yeah, I’m kind of a fuckwit and bad at relationships, I know that and I’ve never pretended otherwise, but don’t act like you’re some patron saint of communication, alright? Don’t act like I’m the evil sex demon luring you into an emotional trap, you could’ve told me how you were feeling straight up, and I’m not talking about asking me to have a sleepover after we fuck —”
“You would’ve done what you always do!” DJ says desperately. “You would’ve changed the subject or turned it into sex or suddenly had somewhere to go and you know it!”
“I’m allowed to be freaked out!” Jasper shouts. “I’m sorry, okay! This shit isn’t fucking easy for me, it’s not like I don’t have feelings for you, you fucking know I do!”
“Then why did you fuck Ian?” DJ says, and Jasper buries his face in his hands, palms pressing into his eyes until he sees stars. Ian, Ian, Ian.
“Because you blew me off,” he admits finally, dropping his hands and turning back to DJ. “Because you could’ve canceled on that fucking rando when I asked if you wanted to hang out the other night but you went out of your way to tell me you had plans to get your dick wet, DJ. I’m not the only one culpable here, okay? You fucking do it too. You play games. You wanted me to know you were fucking someone.”
For a long minute there’s only the sound of the rain. Then DJ says, “I wanted you to tell me not to.”
“Well that’s fucking manipulative and weird,” says Jasper.
“Yeah, it is,” says DJ. “The way we act with each other is fucked up.”
“Great. Good thing we’re done then.” He picks at his chipping blue nail polish. “You freak out at Ian too or is it just my fault?”
“He just told me two minutes before you came out here.”
Jas whips his head around, pausing in his anxious picking. “Ian told you?”
“Yeah, he texted me.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause he feels bad, Jasper,” DJ says wearily. “‘Cause he and everyone else knew we were a thing even if we hadn’t put a label on it. And yeah, obviously I’m pissed at him too, it was a huge fucking betrayal. If you didn’t think it was a big deal, why didn’t you tell me?”
Instead of answering — because the answer is that Jasper did know it would hurt him, and maybe he’d been pulling the exact same thing DJ had pulled with that girl the other night — he picks up his backpack from where he’d set it between his feet.
“Are we going to Opus or not?” he asks. “‘Cause I need art supplies.”
“No,” says DJ, “we’re not going to fucking Opus. Are you gonna answer the question?”
“What’s the point?” Jasper asks. He feels distinctly like he’s going to throw up.
“‘Cause I wanna hear you say it. That you did it on purpose.”
“Fine,” Jasper says tonelessly. “I did it on purpose. Happy?”
“Not even a little.”
“You, hard to please?” says Jasper, fingers on the door handle. “That’s new.”
“You know, we may have both done fucked up shit to each other, Jas,” he says, “but you put the last nail in the coffin when you fucked one of my best friends. This could’ve been something. Now it can’t.”
“Great,” says Jasper. The tightness of his chest and stinging in his eyes tells him the next time he opens his mouth, he’s going to start crying for real. And he desperately wants to be in his dorm when that happens. “Is that it then?”
“Guess so.”
“Cool.” He opens the Jeep’s door and the rain soaks the side of his right leg. “Have a nice fucking life.”
VCTASK 007; home ( /hōm/ ): the place or region where something is native or most common; the place where you feel that you belong.
The general definition of ‘home’ would be the place to which you live. where you wake up in the morning, where you sleep at night, where you spend time with your family. But most people would tell you that their home is somewhere...else.
Task - Create a mood/aesthetic board or post a photo of what represents your muses home. This can be their actual house/apartment, a person, another place, where ever they may consider their home. As the caption, explain the emotions or why your muse deems this item/place their ‘home’.
❝ love doesn't exist . there is no such thing as love . therefore , there's no sorrow . that's what i thought . ❞
― 𝐑𝐘𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐀, 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡.
╰ halloween 2021 ：castor kung as ryo asuka from devilman crybaby .
the brightest of them all, loved so dearly by his creator. yet he shared no love back, consumed by his own radiance, the evening star rebels against his own father.
╰
fall .
.
fall
.
.
fall .
even with an angered yell towards the high heaven, he was still the most beautiful of them all
❛ ❪ o’ my little angel, how does it feel to watch everything you once loved burn away into ashes ? to be devoured by the darkness in your heart , this lost paradise that you seek . . . ❫
pink mesh sneakers · green retro plaid dress · blonde in the fall
could she recall a time, in the past two years she’d been residing in the gang infested town of agdoeg, where there was such an event? to have said it’s been going for seventy - four years made her wonder where was she during the last year. surely, this was the first she’d heard of the ‘ fall into autumn festival ’. the waterfront carnival deemed a fitting choice for her to attend. the lights illuminating by the harbor during the night times view was something that sparked an interest in kiyomi more than any other. the amount of festivities and amenities, kiyomi felt that she could be more enthused than the other’s. not to say the other events the festival had to offer the previous days were less dull in comparison, she just preferred engagement and excitement over ritzy type galas and flea markets.
she figured to go for an outfit that would blend between summer and autumn. she felt that this was a ode to the ending of the humid and blistering days the season brought to the city and a welcoming for the coolness the new season would give. she wanted to look cute but not wanting to overdo her outfit to make her seem out of place. kiyomi found no problems standing out due to her beauty but to blend in some with the crowd and maintain a sense of comfort was also important.
*Note the task below is pertaining to the event that was posted here! These tasks will used in regards to these next two weeks activity check!
Task #006: Winter wonders and waits for no one.
Options
Write a self para (minimum, 3 paragraphs) of a memorable Christmas/Holiday/Winter time in your muses past, how has it effected their view of the holidays?
or
Create an aesthetic/mood board depicting how the holiday time makes your muse feel. Are they nostalgic? Does it remind them of a past trauma or hardship? Provide a brief explanation in the description of what they feel like and why. (minimum, 50 words)
Task 2
Participate in at least two threads related to the event and/or plot drop posted in relation during the annual tree lighting held on the 24th. [ Please tag all starters/first replies of these threads with #vctask006 ]
Helloooo it is time for our first Task Tuesday! Tasks will be posted every Tuesday and will be due the following Monday. So with out further ado, bellow are the details on this weeks Task.
The ‘In-between’: (n), a place somewhere between the living and the divine where children of the gods can come and live out their royal pampering with their parents. These places exist outside of time and space, and is significantly unique to the their parent.
While the in-between in canonly only for the Children of the realm, we’d like to explore the vast other world with everyone.
Children of the Realm - What does your in-between realm look like? Is it based off your parent or you? How often do you visit ? What traits have you acquired from that parent?
Other species - What *would* your in-between realm look like? Which deity fits your muse the most? Why? (Don’t just think Greek!)
Task 001. - Create a mood board, aesthetic board or Pinterest board to show what you’re in-between would or looks like. Answer the questions pertaining to your species below it! Your in-between can look like anything as they are not burdened by the gravity and physics of our current world.
