-
10 months ago
I’m here everyday
but nothing’s really happening; am waiting for someone to reply to my RPs :) ohwell but I’m having a camp, so I won’t be here until next Saturday! 2 weeks long sigh. Hopefully you guys will all be back :D
-
Notes: 3 / 10 months ago from huckleburryfinn-deactivated2012 (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: another lit class @finn
Finn’s eyes opened wide at the mention of Ellie’s name. “W-what? Ellie who? I don’t remember,” he said hurriedly, confused and shocked at this revelation. Surely it had to be the same Ellie from the cafe. Ellie isn’t a very popular name, after-all. The beautiful Ellie in his dreams was the only other person besides his sister he’d ever met with that name. He sighed deeply, trying to calm himself down. He smiled cheekily. “Guess I am thick afterall.”
Finn tried his hardest to keep the blush off his face. “Er, yeah. It was a great lesson.” He mentally kicked himself for missing the first real lesson in his Ellie-filled haze. He smiled genuinely at the offer to grab a bite to eat. “Sure thing, mate. I’m starving,” he said as he threw his bag over his shoulder. He took a second to respond, considering wether to admit he hadn’t listened at all or to lie. “Er, actually mate, I didn’t hear a single word. I zoned off, sleep deprived and all,” he chuckled nervously. “So, warming up to Shakespeare, then?”
“You don’t remember Ellie?” Wyatt chucked, seeing Finn’s flustered face. “You must know her; she’s gorgeous!” He grinned, letting it sink in for a moment before continuing, “You know, she told me she met you at some cafe, I think. She didn’t know you were huckleburryfin and I don’t know if you know she’s ellielikescats.” He scratched the back of his neck, giving Finn a moment to put all the pieces together. “What a coincidence, eh?”
“Yeah, I was fascinated throughout,” Wyatt started, and he elaborated on some of the points the teacher raised. He never really understood Desdemona’s stand in the whole play and why she was so passive but he now finally got it. “And yeah, let’s go. The cafeteria’s shit; Sam told me not to eat anything from there, but hell, maybe I’ll take a risk this time. Unless you’ve somewhere else to introduce…?” Wyatt let himself trail off. It was not that hard speaking to him when he wasn’t looking straight at Finn. It was easier to keep your eyes on a random spot on the ground and to fill his head with Othello.
When he heard that he was sleep-deprived, Wyatt turned and looked at him, feeling bad for the guy. Finn did look a bit tired to be quite honest. “Why the late nights?” He asked, concerned. And yet when he realized he might be over-stepping the boundaries of an acquaintance (“I don’t know him at all, I don’t know him at all,” Wyatt repeated to himself), Wyatt quickly added, “Too much shagging goin’ on?” From this, he could see if Finn, being so good-looking, was a player, though Wyatt seriously doubted it. Still, he had to have Ellie’s back, if they were to become anything serious. “And yeah, when you said you were offended, I kind of went back to study it a little more, and put in more effort into appreciating him. Thanks for the wake-up call. Never thought I could do well for an exam with a book I disliked.”
-
Notes: 16 / 10 months ago from ellielikescats (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: breakfast @ellie
Ellie just blushed in response to Wyatt and hid her face. “Stooooop teasing meeeee!” She giggled and put her forehead on the table. “I’d love to. And if you ever need any help, I could teach ya’ a thing or two,” she replied, still with her head on the table. She smiled to herself, knowing that Wyatt trusted her enough to play in front of her. She knew how nerve-wracking it could be.
She looked up at Wyatt and smiled. “Even better,” she said and plonked her head back down on the table. Her back was starting to hurt, so she stretched and leaned back in her seat as Wyatt talked about the beach bash. “I’m not sure if I want to go, really. The beaches here are crap. I wouldn’t mind going if you went, though. You could be my little gay wing-man,” she chuckled and smiled sweetly at him.
“He is pretty delicious,” she said with a nod of her head. “Sam is some cashier at the same cafe I met Finn at. When I went to get my order my cup had her name and number scrawled on it.” Ellie shrugged. “Not sure if I really want some girl hounding after me, though.” Something clicked in Ellie’s head. “Holy shit! It is him! I knew he looked familiar. Small fuckin’ world!” Ellie blushed bright red at Wyatt’s compliment. “Er, thanks.” She wiggled in her seat a little. “No, definitely not pursuing anything. I think I’ll just play the field a bit. I’ve been here maybe a month, I don’t want to strap myself down already.” She shrugged and looked up at Wyatt, breaking into a smile. “So, anyone you’ve got your eyes on, Wy? Come on, dish.”
He grinned and ran upstairs to get his ukulele. Walking down the stairs again, he tried to remember the fingerings that he learned and as he reached the bottom, he started to sing. ((OOC: Refer to audio uploaded.)) He finished and stuck his tongue out to the side. He said, “That’s the only song I sorta can play fully. It’s Fell Down The Stairs by Tilly and the Wall. I love them.” Putting his ukulele down on the table, he laughed and said in reply to her offer, “Thanks for that. I don’t know what else am I supposed to do with the ukulele. I can’t play tabs for sure.”
“I could always try being a wing-man,” Wyatt said, winking, “I don’t really know what it entails.” He listened as she talked about Sam. “So you got some lesbo’s attention eh?” He raised an eyebrow and beamed. Looks like Ellie’s got a lot of unwanted attention; and she didn’t want to strap herself down. However, he sort of got the vibe that Finn was someone she was relatively interested in and he didn’t want to spoil it for her. So, truth or not?
“I don’t exactly, um, have anyone I like,” he drawled, “I haven’t exactly met him in real life yet. Online, he seems really, well, nice.” He paused. “Well, no secret, I think Finn’s nice. And pretty cute. But,” he laughed, “don’t worry, you’ve got him first. And I support you, hundred percent!” He stuck out both thumbs at her. “He’s definitely straight. And since you’re so gorgeous, I’m sure he’s already fallen for you.” He smirked confidently.
-
10 months ago[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
OOC: Wyatt to Ellie. No bashing; I’m not that well-versed. Fifth time trying to upload this.
-
Notes: 6 / 10 months ago from i-dont-wear-a-fucking-kilt (originally from vialucystone)
I literally cried for about an hour.
No, it’s not the vodka. I’m not an emotional drunk. I lost something at the beach that meant practically everything to me.
I shall scour that beach with a fine tooth comb until that ring is found.It was pretty quiet when we were there, no one would have picked it up. We can head back tomorrow and have a look?
What happened, Ryanne? I’ll help out, definitely. Just holler and I’ll be there.
(Source: vialucystone)
-
10 months ago
therapy sessions
Can’t you see that it isn’t helping? Our relationship is fine without the therapist’s help, Mom! If you’ll just see me for who I am, things would be fine. I’ve changed a lot for you; but if there’s one thing I can’t change, it’s my sexuality. I can’t be who you want me to be, not anymore. I always wanted to make you proud; and I still do. That’s why it breaks my heart when I can’t do make you proud anymore. But it doesn’t make sense that you’re ashamed of me just because I like dick. What’s the point of studying then? Or being well-read? There’s no bloody point to it at all when I always just did it so you can be proud of me. Fuck this shit.
-
Notes: 16 / 10 months ago from ellielikescats (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: breakfast @ellie
Ellie blushed at the mention of her guitar playing. “Er, yeah, I can. Have since I was old enough to hold a guitar. I’m not very good though,” she shrugged and looked around uncomfortably. She was never sure what to say when the topic was brought up. She knew she was good, but you couldn’t exactly just come out and say that. Not unless you were Scout, that is. “You play any instruments, Wy? Piano, flute? Any other cliche Asian instruments?” she joked.
Ellie’s mouth hung open at the mention of Asian food. “That’s it, you just hammered the last nail into your coffin. I’m officially moving in. Asian food is my favourite,” she patted her belly and looked down at her now empty plate. “Next to pancakes, that is.” She shuddered at the thought of Roundview’s bathrooms. “They smell terrible. Not like typical bathroom smell terrible either, more like the smell of 20 rotting rat corpses in the ceilings.” She crinkled her nose in disgust. “Ew, no, enough about toilets. Blech. Okay, change of subject. Want to come with me? To the beach bash, that is.”
She laughed at Wyatt’s excitement. “Colm yo titties, Wy. I’m not really interested in anyone at the moment. Sure, there are some possibilities, but it’s all too soon to tell. There’s this guy Rowan, have you met him? Well, he’s delicious and we hung out about a week ago. He’s been on vacation with his fam bam, though, so haven’t spoken to him since. Er, this girl Sam gave me her number. I’ve yet to call her, though. Oh! And I met this really adorable kid at the cafe the other day. Finn.” She laughed. “He was practically shitting his pants talking to me, the poor kid was so nervous. I don’t quite understand why, but it was fucking cute as hell either way.” She giggled. “I’m not a big relationship person, though.” Ellie said with a shrug.
“Ha! You don’t usually act so modest,” Wyatt said, “You must be incredible on the guitar then.” Wyatt rubbed his hands together when she asked and smiled shyly. “Um, I do have a ukulele and for me, I’m really pretty much a beginner and I feel nervous playing for anyone. But do you want to hear?” Wyatt knew he couldn’t sing very well and he got nervous performing. But he didn’t think Ellie would judge.
“You like Asian stuff? Mind you, my mom makes the real stuff, not those ‘Chinese’ take-out shit.” Wyatt stuck out a tongue, showing a disgusted face. “The beach bash? I would love to go! I’m not sure if I can make Friday though…” He bit his lip, trying to remember. “If I do make it, hopefully I’ll see you there.” He grinned, knowing that any kind of party felt better when you knew a friend was there. It was not like him aimlessly walking around the clubs for random Roundview Students.
“Oh, Rowan!” Wyatt tipped his head back and laughed. “What a coincidence. I met him too; he is gorgeous,” Wyatt said, enunciating the end of the word to emphasize it. “Sam? I never heard of her; but as for Finn… is he huckleburryfinn on Tumblr? He’s cute.” Wyatt’s eyes kind of glazed over, just for a second, before he continued, “He’s apparently in my English Lit class but I haven’t seen him before.” Then Wyatt broke into a huge beam (he should be excited for her, shouldn’t he? It’s not as if he and Finn would ever have a chance.) and said, “Who can’t help but be nervous around you at first, Ellie? Even I was, a few minutes ago. You’re gorgeous.” Then Wyatt got a little closer to Ellie, whispered, “I bet he has a little crush on you,” and tapped her on the nose lightly; he then started to giggle. “So you’re not going to pursue anything? Just waiting to see what he’s up to next?”
-
Notes: 16 / 10 months ago from ellielikescats (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: breakfast @ellie
“Yeah, I rarely see him in class, but he’s really nice,” Wyatt said, chewing at the same time. “He’s pretty interesting too and charming with that Irish accent of his.” He stabbed one of the remaining pieces on his plate and stuffed it into his mouth. So far, meeting Ellie had been fantastic. It was nice to meet someone who wasn’t Bristolian (was that what they called themselves?) and who also loved pancakes as much as he does.
He broke into laughter. “Yes, Doug did that OGGY OGGY OGGY thing at me too,” he said, imitating his actions, “but I didn’t cry. I just, um, did it back to him. I thought it was a greeting that the people do around here, but I haven’t met anyone who did that so far. Do you know what it means?” He giggled again. “Nice one though, crying and all. I can’t believe you dared to do that to nice ol’ Doug.”
When she got into the graphic details of what she would’ve done to the fella, Wyatt grimaced but felt really grateful. He used to have protective friends like that too, who would stand up for him when he didn’t dare to stand up for himself. He had started to become more confident until his mom found out and all that confidence just disappeared. Now, in a new place with new people, it was hard once again, to start from nothing. “I appreciate the sentiment, Ellie. I think having an axe murderer as a friend would be freaking useful now.” He winked at her and then took a long sip at his coffee. “How has school been for you, though? Ever clubbed again after that day I missed you guys?”
“Ooooh, has someone got a widdle cwush on the charming Irishman?” Ellie smiled cheekily. “He seems nice enough, haven’t gotten to talk to him much. If he’s half as great as you make him seem, I’ve oughta hit him up.” She shoved another disgustingly large bite into her mouth. She smiled with closed lips as Wyatt complimented her on her stupid antics. She held up her finger and swallowed her bite. “Ah, everyone is susceptible to my torture, nice or not. Doug just happened to shout in the wrong girl’s face, dooming himself to be my form of amusement for the next couple of weeks or so until I find a new victim.” Ellie rubbed her hands together menacingly. “Look out, or you could be next,” she grinned and picked up her fork again, cutting herself another large piece. “These pancakes are delicious, by the way. You’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me now, with my knowledge of what a fabulous cook your mother is.”
“Oh, the benefits of having a serial killer as a friend,” she laughed. “We’ll always have your back in a fight, that’s for sure. It’s worth the risk, I suppose,” she said and laughed haughtily. “School has been confusing. After spending the first week of it in the bathrooms, I have no idea what’s going on in class. As for the clubbing, not yet, but I hear there’s a beach party coming up this Friday.”
Wyatt blushed, just a little. “Well, he’s just, he’s just really nice, alright?” Wyatt began. When Ellie said she should hit him up, Wyatt nodded eagerly. “He did say you could play the guitar; I think he’s looking to start a band.” Wyatt thought about his ukulele, lying in his room. When he got it, he thought it would be nice to learn an instrument; and he ended up loving it. It was just a pity that it wasn’t that much of a band instrument. Especially if they were looking to be a rock band.
Ellie then said that he could be her next target. Wyatt laughed and winked. “I can’t wait,” he said, eyes crinkling up at the sides. He cut a piece of pancake and chewed hard on it. He was almost done with the whole stack: that was how much of a pig he was. He grinned when Ellie complimented his mom’s cooking. “There’s only so much she can do. I don’t think you’d like the rest of the cooking she does; mostly Asian dishes. Pancakes are just about the only exception.” He lifted up the maple syrup and drizzled more on. “Besides, what doesn’t taste good with maple syrup?” The golden sticky liquid covered the remnants on his plate and he attacked it with gusto.
“Ha! Bathrooms,” he burst out, laughing again, “I think Roundview has the worst bathrooms ever. The PE locker room is the only one that seems adequate; but I hate PE so,” he ended the whole rambling about toilets with a shrug. He listened and found out there was a beach party on Friday. He just nodded. He wouldn’t like to be there if he weren’t invited… or was there such a thing? Did people invite each other to beach parties? He didn’t like water anyway; it was embarrassing to wear a swimsuit when everyone else was about a hundred times hotter than you were.
“This is going to sound like an interview, but this I must know: who are you interested in now and what are the developments?” He asked excitedly, turning to face Ellie with sticky maple syrup all around his mouth with a big grin.
-
Notes: 19 / 10 months ago from i-dont-wear-a-fucking-kilt (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: in school: @samuel and anyone else
“Oooh, custard. Lovely,” Wyatt cooed. He liked custard. He liked maple syrup. He liked sweet things. Or salty things actually. Or both together. Salted caramel sounded awesome right now; but he hated sticky things. “Custard is lovely; but one thing I can never get is sticky things. Why would anyone want to eat chewy caramel? It’s gooey, it sticks in your teeth and ugh,” he just grimaced, unable to continue.
“Yeah, thanks. I really hate being the new kid; but things seem to be settling down. The worst that happened so far was someone insulting me during math class but I got over that.” He rubbed his knuckles. No one could really get over something; but this was as close as he could come to it. People were at least friendly online, and today he had finally spoken to someone nice. Things were definitely looking up.
“Why don’t you try? Ladies love the drummers,” Wyatt said, grinning. It wouldn’t be hard for Sam to get laid, but if he became a drummer of a band, he would really have to fend for himself and push the sea of women away. “I think there’s this guy called Scout; he has a band of some sort. You know him?” He wasn’t sure but he saw many pictures of Scout having gigs and the sort. “Yeah, I don’t like clubs. They are so… unappealing, somehow.” He knew it was a bit strange since most people his age loved the clubbing scene; and he was pleasantly shocked when Sam too agreed.
“Hey, thanks for answering so genuinely,” Wyatt said, his eyes lighting up as he looked at Sam. He chuckled as he received a friendly thump on the arm. “You’re the best person I’ve met so far in this school.” He was absolutely honest when he said it. He was a little amazed by Sam’s openness. It’s like, around him, whatever Wyatt said would never seem pathetic. There was no such thing as a ‘wrong thing’ to say or a wrong way to say it. That was the beauty of being friends with Sam. “If you ever need a favor, and there’s any way I could help out, feel free to ask,” Wyatt said, crushing the paper cup in his hand, holding it and waited for Sam to finish his so they could toss it into the trash-can.
“Ah, what, like toffee? I fuckin’ love toffee. And fudge. Fuck it, just pour sugar into my face and I’ll be happy.” It was seriously a massive shock to Sam that he didn’t weight like 18 stone, the amount of food he ate. Maybe it was the drinking…no, that couldn’t be it, people got beer bellies. Then, he never drank beer. Maybe whiskey kept the weight off? He could patent that shit, it’d fuck over the Atkins diet…
He snapped back out of his ridiculous whiskey weight loss fantasy, and carried on talking. “Anyone gives you shit fella, let me know, I’ll fuckin’ glass ‘em. Us foreigners gotta stick together.” Not that he was really foreign, having lived in Bristol most of his life, but the principle was the same. And really, he wasn’t violent enough to glass anyone. He was playing up to his stereotype a wee bit there. He never even really got into fights, he was too lazy, and too much of a coward. He was much more proficient at legging it when things got hairy.
“Yeah, I know Scout. He’s alright. Good name. Won’t lie, seems like a little bit of a prick, but who am I to judge, eh? And I know ladies love the drummers. We do it out of time, you see. Good sense of rhythm, us.” He gave a cheeky smirk, quoting the oldest drummer pick up line in the book, but to good effect. Really, he didn’t get laid half as much as he would like, but still. Quirk of character or something.
He sank the last of his tea, swilling around the mess of sugar at the bottom of the mug, before smiling at Wyatt. “Well thank you kindly fella. No point in being a prick if you dinnae have to, that’s what I say. And you seem nice enough. If you turn out to be a murderer or something, I will be very very disappointed, alright?” he said, obviously joking. The kid looked like he didn’t have a violent bone in his body, but then, there was something people said about the quiet ones, wasn’t there?
OOC - Wanna wrap this up?
Wyatt grimaced, listening about toffee; he liked sucking it but not chewing it (and somehow dirty thoughts just entered his head and he couldn’t stop thinking about it for a while and he bit his lip hard and tapped his fingers on the table, trying to think about something else) so he kind of understood where the appeal of toffee came from, but no, no, no, not the texture of it. He had this little paranoia that his teeth would be full of bits of sticky caramel or toffee, and often dreamed of his teeth falling out.
“Yeah, we gotta stick together,” Wyatt said, balling up his fist and staring at it. Would he fight someone if he had to? He looked at Sam, with his curly hair and bright eyes; and he thought. If anyone dared to do anything to him, actually, Wyatt would. Wyatt would stop it, whatever it took. His knuckles turned white from the clenching and he relaxed his fist, shaking his head to try to clear his mind again. Upon hearing about Sam talking about Scout, Wyatt smiled. “I don’t know him enough to judge; but I’m always surprised when people put pictures of themselves on Tumblr. I guess it’s just because I don’t. Not really.” It was a concept he didn’t really understand. Sure, he read the Greek myth about Narcissus but did people really look into ponds and fall in love with themselves? However, Scout seemed pretty friendly to everyone noticeable. Not Wyatt though; no one really notices him.
“If I were a murderer, at least you’d know I won’t murder you.” Wyatt grinned and tapped Sam’s nose as he finished his sentence. He stood up, holding onto the crushed paper cup and said, “It was really nice meeting you Sam Irwin. Hope we could meet up sometime, outside school.”
OOC: Done! <3 Thanks for roleplaying with me! My first tumblr roleplay.
-
Notes: 19 / 10 months ago from i-dont-wear-a-fucking-kilt (originally from whywyatt)why, wyatt?: in school: @samuel and anyone else
Sam thought for a minute. “You’re probably right. I won’t lie, I know fuck all about the human body. Never really listened in science, all I know is my liver is probably in pretty poor shape by now, the amount I sling down my neck.” He was always up front about the amount he drank, because he never saw it as a problem. Other people might, but it wasn’t detrimental to the way he acted, the way he lived his life. Not like his mother. That was addiction, what he had was simply a liking. A fancy for it. Definitely not an addiction. “I can sort of cook. I can run to cheese on toast, and that’s about it. I could properly go for some fuckin’ custard right now though.” He thought for a minute, contemplating just eating a whole tin when he got home. A little trampy, yes, but who the fuck cared? Custard was lush.
“You’ll find that. People here are a little…well, every poor cliche you’ve ever heard about English people can probably be confirmed by a weekend in Bristol, that’s all I’ll say. It’s the novelty of a newbie really, give it a couple of weeks and the novelty will wear off, they’ll find something else shiny and fuck off.” he assured Wyatt. He sort of knew what it was like being the new kid, even if he had been five and at nursery. Him and his daft accent were still the topic of ridicule. Of course, now he’d embraced it, but then, it had stung a wee bit.
“Don’t worry, I cannae sing for toffee. Drumming isn’t even that difficult, it’s all limb independence and hitting shit. But the ukulele is pretty cool man. It’s all hipster and indy. And you know, I might just start a band. It’d be pretty bitching. I’d do well in a band, getting pissed and mad.” He made a mental note to think about asking a few people. He thought Scout might play guitar, as well as Ellie. “Clubs here are shit, the floors are all sticky and the people are dickheads. House parties are where it’s at.”
He smiled, and gave Wyatt a gentle thump on the arm. “Of course we’re friends, you dick. You’re a nice enough lad. Clever. Not to mention a lot nicer than half the pricks in this college. You didnae even need to ask.” That was Sam. Constantly, always friendly, to people he thought were worth being friendly too. And he could at least talk to Wyatt, and understand him, and actually discuss stuff with him. It was a refreshing change.
“Oooh, custard. Lovely,” Wyatt cooed. He liked custard. He liked maple syrup. He liked sweet things. Or salty things actually. Or both together. Salted caramel sounded awesome right now; but he hated sticky things. “Custard is lovely; but one thing I can never get is sticky things. Why would anyone want to eat chewy caramel? It’s gooey, it sticks in your teeth and ugh,” he just grimaced, unable to continue.
“Yeah, thanks. I really hate being the new kid; but things seem to be settling down. The worst that happened so far was someone insulting me during math class but I got over that.” He rubbed his knuckles. No one could really get over something; but this was as close as he could come to it. People were at least friendly online, and today he had finally spoken to someone nice. Things were definitely looking up.
“Why don’t you try? Ladies love the drummers,” Wyatt said, grinning. It wouldn’t be hard for Sam to get laid, but if he became a drummer of a band, he would really have to fend for himself and push the sea of women away. “I think there’s this guy called Scout; he has a band of some sort. You know him?” He wasn’t sure but he saw many pictures of Scout having gigs and the sort. “Yeah, I don’t like clubs. They are so… unappealing, somehow.” He knew it was a bit strange since most people his age loved the clubbing scene; and he was pleasantly shocked when Sam too agreed.
“Hey, thanks for answering so genuinely,” Wyatt said, his eyes lighting up as he looked at Sam. He chuckled as he received a friendly thump on the arm. “You’re the best person I’ve met so far in this school.” He was absolutely honest when he said it. He was a little amazed by Sam’s openness. It’s like, around him, whatever Wyatt said would never seem pathetic. There was no such thing as a ‘wrong thing’ to say or a wrong way to say it. That was the beauty of being friends with Sam. “If you ever need a favor, and there’s any way I could help out, feel free to ask,” Wyatt said, crushing the paper cup in his hand, holding it and waited for Sam to finish his so they could toss it into the trash-can.
Ask me why.
Following
