you are born, you bleed, you burn.

Sebastian: Fancy hanging out for a bit?

Sebastian: I've been working all week and need to be dragged away from my work.

“I think it’s more of the second one. You put so much effort in that it just comes out and you don’t even realize it.”

“No, it takes no effort. It’s like twisting off the a bottle-cap. That easy. Everyone can do it, so I don’t understand why everyone looks surprised that I can do it. Do you think people think I’m defective?”

“ Yeah, a sex face, ” Hannah shrugged casually, “ Like this. ” She pretended to unscrew a jar, her lips soon parting to feign a moment of bliss. “ You could invest in a jar opener. That might help. ”

“Why would I need a jar opener?” She asked, genuinely confused. “Oh! Oh no, you’ve misunderstood me. I meant that it’s really easy to open it, you know, a sarcastic like it’s hard, or something....Er,” She trailed off. “Everyone can do it.”

Sebastian shrugged at the pretty brunette, “I haven’t got a clue, gorgeous. I haven’t seen you open a jar so I can’t really say anything to you or offer any advice.”

A weird look pinched her small face at the endearment, as well as a faint blush. “Um, anyway, the point is it’s not hard to open a pickle jar, and people always look really shocked when I manage so I’m...I’m, uh,” She said, flustered, suddenly losing the plot of the story. She cleared her throat. “Weather’s nice.”

“Ho-ly-crap,” Wesley dragged out as if the phrase was split up into separate syllables. “You,” he pointed. “Are creepy as shit, babbling on and on about fuck knows with that creepy ass smile. Please, get out of my face or I swear to god I will shit in your cat’s litter box.”

A look of unrestrained hurt pinched her features, and she suddenly felt very anxious talking to this very angry man. “Um... I don’t have a cat,” She said, almost apologetically. “I have a husky! But he doesn’t shit in a box...Sorry.”

Wesley motioned to Starr’s entire body with his hand, “I’m going to need you to take all this fucking happiness and scurry on out of here,” he requested, pinching the bridge of his nose, so furious with pure annoyance he did not even know what insult to use in that moment.

A frown tugged at her mouth. “Hey, there’s no need to be sad all the time. I bet you have a great smile, Mister.” She tilted her head to the side, trying to make sense of his expression. “Mister? You look kind of constipated. I might have some medicine in my bag!”

QJ: yeah in movies or as the butt of a joke. that sounds traumatising, were you alone in there?

QJ: i don't think you will, no. but is it worth risking it? i'm no expert or anything but i can come take a look if i ever get out of here, if you'd like?

STARR: NO. SOME WEIRD OLD DUDE WAS IN THERE AND HE KEPT ASKING ME QUESTIONS LIKE WHAT'S MY ZODIAC AND HAVE I EVER BEEN CANED AT SCHOOL NO BUENO

QJ: you know that old cliché

QJ: of the person with claustrophobia

QJ: getting stuck in an elevator?

QJ: well hi. i could really use a distraction.

STARR: I've never heard that one actually do you mean like in movies or stuff I feel like that would be really scary I was stuck in an elevator once and I cried BUCKETS. so many tears.

starr sent payton at 8:10pm

starr sent wesley at 7:58pm