fashion design
sleeping around
you're so good, he's just wishing he could bite it, huh?
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Post by ZELPHYR AVA BROOKS on Jun 6, 2014 20:27:21 GMT -7
| she grew up hating the powell's without questioning why the two families had a feud to begin with, but she figured that it could be over something silly. however, she didn't care enough to ask about it, nor enough to bother ashton for answer. some days she wanted to slap him and yell at him to get out, other times she wanted him to shut up and sexually please her. it was never an easy calling when it came to the two of them, and she didn't understand why he insisted on annoying her everyday. she had spent most of the morning cruising around in miami and the intersecting cities to get her shopping done for summer outifts. she did have a problem, but she wasn't anywhere close to admitting to it. by the time that she was finished with shopping, all she really wanted to do was take a nice hot bubble bath while sipping on some of the finest wine. she pulled up in her drive way, opened the door and slipped out of the drivers seat. she dropped her keys into her purse, while grabbing her other key ring that had her house key on it and made her way towards the door to unlock it. she tossed her purse on the couch, before turning on her heels to the car, when she felt vendetta suddently land on her back and used her shirt to climb up the mere fabric, it was then that he perched on her shoulder. "hey little man." she said, with a small grin. "i missed you, too." she softly purred, and continued her journey outside the house.
she opened her backseat and pulled out a handful of bags, and rolled her eyes when she heard the all too familiar voice and let out a light groan, "go away, ashton." she said, with her voice firm but light. she didn't have to look back to know who it was, she spent most of her life hatting the guy and noticed all the little puberty hitting him rather hard, it wasn't until afterwards that she became sexually attracted to him, yet said nothing to him about it for a few odd number of years. she heard a slight hissing nose escape vendetta's location and lightly giggle, it was one of the many reasons why she adored her furry little friend. there was also the fact that she was horrible with human relationships, and barely dealt with them to the point where she honestly felt like she had no real friends. fake friends were the essential accessory that she took to some of the locations around the united states to make her appear like a normal person. she turned her head to look at him, "don't you have anything better to do, than to harass." she complained, while running a hand through her loose curls. she nibbled her bottom lip when closing the door, and carrying the bags to her humble home. "if you're coming in to further the painful experience in dealing with you, close the door. thanks." she said, while rolling her eyes and finished walking into her room and setting her bags ontop of her desk that was neatly organized some of her art supplies for her chosen career path. |
tagg: toxxic w/ dickhead outfits: here words: so many notes: xoxo
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drug runner
perpetually single
don't hate the player, hate the game.
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Post by ASHER DAVID POWELL on May 5, 2016 18:18:00 GMT -7
i tear myself from the beaten path, never to look back. and still i glance the lure of the forbidden dance. i'm hypnotized by the sordid nymph who races from me.
it was known that the powells and the brooks hated each other, and that same hatred had been instilled in their children. asher never asked why to hate them and never dug into the past, but it was easy enough for a young boy to hate the brooks girl. boys and girls often didn't get along and it was all too easy for him to push her in the sandbox or roll his eyes whenever she uttered a word in his presence. as they grew older, it became the classic story of two kids that hated each other. he often went out of his way to annoy and irritate her; it took years for the revelation of asher's attraction to the girl to hit him. they eventually somewhat grew out of a childish hatred for each other and their relationship changed. well, at little at least. she would text or call him, and he'd show up at her house where she would model new lingerie that he would promptly tear off. the two always wound up in the same situation no matter what: sweating and naked in her bed, satisfied and content. the contentment only lasted so long before one of them said something irritating and they'd get into fighting. sometimes it ended with another round of rough encounters, and sometimes it ended with him being chased out of her house. either way, it was the vicious cycle of their interactions.
he was just finishing a run for work, his cut of the money tucked into his wallet while the rest was folded in his dress pants. just a couple streets up was a familiar house, so he figured he would swing by and annoy his favorite person. as asher neared her home, he saw her walk out and start collecting bags from her car. he rolled his eyes and strode up behind her. "can you go even a day without shopping?" she asked snidely. her reply made him smirk. he looked at the ball of fur she had so affectionately called vendetta and raised a brow when it hissed at her. "i could wear you as a slipper," she said the threat as if it would understand. he watched her carry the bags and took a moment to admire the figure underneath the outfit that left little to the imagination, though he didn't need his imagination to know what was hidden. "harass? i'm offended. i came to shoot the breeze, catch up. it's been such a long time, friend." he smirked again and followed her inside. her comment made him roll his own eyes, but he shut the door behind him. "such a pocket full of sunshine you are, zelph. always a joy to be in your presence."
tagg: marie w/ zelphyr ✖ words: so many ✖ notes: xoxo
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fashion design
sleeping around
you're so good, he's just wishing he could bite it, huh?
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Post by ZELPHYR AVA BROOKS on May 11, 2016 15:53:03 GMT -7
| if it wasn't one thing, it was another when it came to asher annoying the fuck out of zelphyr. of course, it didn't take much to annoy her to the point that she was ready to punch something, but she wouldn't resort to violence - yet. she never understood why someone whom was suppose to hate her with every fiber of her being, be so off limits and unobtainable. she was suppose to hate him with every fiber of her being, and she did, except those moments of weakness. when she gave in to the temptation that he brought with him, and his perfect face, hair, body.. she mentally shook those thoughts out of her head. she never understood the times that she didn't see the annoying kid that used to bully her in school, and she would turn around a bully him right back. she hated the way he stood with his shoulders align with his stupid smirk, that caused so many reactions from her point of view. she even hated that she fit perfectly in his arms, the fact that her head was just underneath his chin in the crook of his neck. she hated that she felt could feel so comfortable within said arms. and when she got to comfortable with him, she'd open her mouth and say something mean and hateful; she had to push him away before she got too attached to having him around. what would people even say?
she was so used to ignoring the house down the street, that she hadn't noticed that the vane of her existence was on his way to her. she obviously wasn't prepared to tolerate him when she heard his voice, when he got a mouth full of attitude. "bet you can't go a day without being an asshole." she responded, while rolling her eyes. "negative, i'm far bigger than you say." she says, as she can tell that she's starting having to diet to keep in her sizes or her boss will start chastising her. "sounds more like harassing to me." she responded, glancing over at him while walking into the house. she heard his little nickname, "you know i hate it when you call me that." which was a lie, she actually kinda liked the small abbreviation of her name. the thing that she hated from it was the fact that he was the one that have given it to her. "finally some appreciation for my presence." she said, while rolling her eyes and set her bags near her bed on top of her vanity. she looked up at him and cleared her through, "so, um.. how was your morning exercise?" she asked.
remember we hate him. she had to remind herself, while gazing into his eyes.
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tagg: toxxic w/ dickhead outfits: here words: so many notes: xoxo
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drug runner
perpetually single
don't hate the player, hate the game.
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Post by ASHER DAVID POWELL on May 14, 2016 0:13:38 GMT -7
i tear myself from the beaten path, never to look back. and still i glance the lure of the forbidden dance. i'm hypnotized by the sordid nymph who races from me.
it actually felt earth shattering sometimes, in the most frustrating way, the level of their attraction and chemistry between them. there was something about it that just felt... right... and that disgusted asher. she was a brooks and he was a powell. they were supposed to be enemies and hate each other, like cats and dogs. and yet, with every annoying, frustrating, insulting remark that left those perfect lips, he found himself not hating her... and that made him hate her even more. it was really an incredibly conflicting and irritating things ot be going through and he tried to convince himself that it was really just a conflict between the brain in his pants that often made the worst decisions conflicting with literally every other fiber of his being. a very, very tiny part of him knew that wasn't true though; that part of him was the part that lead to the constant self-assurance and tried to urge with tiny thoughts that it wasn't just a case of the 'i-just-need-to-fuck-you's.
"nah, i'd probably die. like you know when diabetics have to have their insulin shots or whatever? yeah, that's kinda like me a being an asshole." he shrugged with a smirk and crossed his arms casually. he rolled his eyes. bigger than he thought? oh please! he scoffed. she looked perfect...ly fine. fit. thin. not fat? what combination of words could he possibly think that weren't an insult while still being an insult but totally not being insulting? he pinched the bridge of his nose. "i know you do. why else would i call you it, zelph? i could go for something catchier. zelphy. zellie!" he reminded himself to stick with irritating her and focus less on her. he followed her into her bedroom where he fidgetted with various objects. girls were so weird with their frivolous knick-knacks. like, who needed twelve different makeup brushes? "superb," he drew the word out with a hint of sarcasm. it was a reminder that he needed to hit the gym again. he turned around to face her, arms crossed over his chest against and he leaned back against the wall. he looked at her for a moment in silence then dropped his eyes to the floor. "how's work been?" god, that's such a friendly question. getting on her good side was so hard. he knew a snide comment would be coming from one of them at any moment, he could just feel it hanging from the tip of their tongues. he licked his lips.
tagg: marie w/ zelphyr ✖ words: so many ✖ notes: xoxo
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