we run on gasoline.

Booked a few shoots, see you whenever

Thanksgiving, it was a big thing, and Ben had made the mistake of inviting his whole family over for dinner in some sort of grand gesture he figured would be appreciated by… —well, someone. Problem was, he wanted to do it all himself and he had no idea where to even start. As he wandered the aisles of the grocery store, aimlessly, he sighed heavily, and then caught the eye of the nearest person. “Any idea how much food I’d need for, like, eight people? For Thanksgiving dinner?” he questioned. “This place is…” He paused, laughed. “It’s like hell to me.”

“Do I look like someone who knows how much food people eat?” She eyed him for a long time, “I’ve never even celebrated Thanksgiving, dude.” 

Their gaze may have only lasted for a few mere seconds, but it was enough to make Tanner’s pupils dilate. Unfortunately, it was something that always happened when they made eye contact with someone incredibly attractive– that, and well, they typically flushed to the extreme.

For someone who tried to make it obvious how gay and out there they were, their confidence was quick to shrivel up, eyes flickering their focus down onto the cup of hot chocolate in their hands. And with a bit of an inhale, a mumbled, “wow,” was released.

           Skye was walking home from her dad’s place when she decided to take a detour and swing by the lake. It wasn’t really on the way, but it had been a while since she had been there, and with the sun hanging low above the trees, casting long shadows and bathing the area in a picturesque glow, she figured it would be well worth it. She wasn’t surprised to find another person down there, enjoying the view, and after a few moments of silence, she turned to them with a light smile. “Do you think the water is too cold for bathing now?”

“ Yeah, well.. you said something about coffee too, didn’t you? The easiest way to ruin anyone’s day is to put too much sugar in it… or, rather just stick with salt, there are people who actually like the sugar part. “

“You’re missing the point here. I am not going to bring them anything they’ve asked for. Whether I’ve fucked with it or not. Because for the briefest of seconds, they’re going to think I did what they wanted me to do, and be so happy, and I don’t want them to have that single minute of joy.” 

                         “… Maybe? I don’t know, if I get into it, I think you’d either be pretty interested or pretty grossed out. Probably pretty grossed out.” Ava cringed as she pictured Riley’s reaction. It wasn’t too pretty. “You really are living the life, aren’t you? You get to fuck with cops, and get paid for it too. Where can I sign up?”

“Well, I don’t want to be grossed out so spare me the details. I’ve lived this long not knowing, I can probably live the rest of my life being okay.” She said with a sigh, “like yeah, but only because they are fucking assholes. I’m thinking about quitting to be honest. 90% of them hate me so why would I want to work there?” 

Emil smiled slightly, though privately he wondered how one could possibly roll their eyes so hard without physically harming themselves. “They probably should have sent the intern, yes,” he said. “I hope you will inform them of their mistake.” He couldn’t imagine her possibly holding herself back like that, but he could always be wrong.

“I mean, I already told them that as I was leaving. Yelling it out the door, the poor kid’s went red, there was a whole scene.” The brunette laughed, it was too much, but they shouldn’t of asked her to do something she didn’t really want to do.  “Maybe I could just never go back. Who even wants to work somewhere where you think half of them hate you.” 

“I don’t have of those, no, but I would if I had raccoons in my backyard to use it on. Or if I had a backyard to begin with.” Owning a house, with a backyard and a fence and all, rather than an apartment, was never something he thought about much, and while he’d grazed upon the idea just now, it still didn’t filter through his mind too much. Her blatant rejection of his belief, whether or not they were wholly meant, has once again made him feel bad, but he should’ve been used to it by now, especially with her. He knew the science of it, of course, but he liked to think that all living organisms— or most, at the very least—had some capacity to feel. “Well, I forgot. I could’ve been talking about anything, and we’d still end up here.”

“Or you’d keep it on a shelf like you do.” She said with a shrug, not listening to him when he said he didn’t have any. She didn’t care, that version of the story didn’t fit in her narrative, and he was really freaking weird anyways. So to her, it all seemed exceedingly plausible. “Why would you forget something you’re talking about? That you brought up? Seriously. Is there something wrong with you?” 

“Well that’s stupid of them,” said Hazel and frowned. “They definitely don’t deserve donuts or anything else rewarding.” Hazel wasn’t sure if she believed Adrian was part of the problem, but she was always likely to make him an exception and then believe the rest of the lot were the ones in the wrong. “Well… I don’t know if you can get pink eye from a toilet, but I hear you, I definitely hear you.“

“Yeah I know. It’s why I am not getting them for them.” She thought she’d made that clear, but apparently she hadn’t. “You can. It’s literally caused by fecal particles getting in your eyes. Putting your face near a toilet is quite literally asking for it to happen to you.” Riley rolled her eyes, like that was obvious and everyone should have known. 

                       “… That’s true. His tastebuds technically do make him a pretty fucked up person.” She paused thoughtfully, but playfulness was still visible in her features. “I wonder if freudian theory expands to tastebuds. Hm.” Ava nodded upon Riley’s demand, giving a soft shrug of her shoulders. “Alright. Aren’t you worried though? I mean, these things are super nasty. Like, I’m nauseated just thinking about them. They’ll never trust you again.”

“Freudian what? Am I supposed to know what that is?” Riley questioned, clearly not knowing what it was at all. “I don’t want them to trust me anyways. Then I can just sit there, and them do everything for me, because they’re not sure if I’ll actually do it or not. It’s a win/win for me.” 

“None taken. Neither do I.” Moving in– yeah, that was never a thing that he would ask. Or at least– not in the near future. That was some next level shit that he wouldn’t even be emotionally available, or stable for. Really, the thought of getting a different dresser – a smaller one for her – was all out of selfish gain. After all, what was she doing right now? Wearing his clothes.

There was, however, a fairly decent laugh that escaped him as she didn’t catch the socks. It wasn’t even a bad toss. But whatever, it was his turn to chuckle. “Mhmm–” But maybe he chuckled too soon, after all, she then hit him with a comment that made his jealousy meter rise. Because the thing is, some of his workers probably would. Riley was hot, some of them were assholes and about to be plastered. The idea of it wasn’t an off one. “If they wanna keep their job, they won’t. So try not to cry over your bruised ego tonight, babe.”

[ time skip ]

After maybe an hour roughly, everyone had finally arrived and settled themselves in. Philip had nabbed a table with Riley, and a few of the others. Chatting along for a while, shooting the shit, and greeting everyone in the venue could only go on for so long before he was craving a drink. 

Philip had excused himself to make a drink pick up, ordering a few pitchers to be placed on practically every used up table– it was going to be on his tab anyways. “Soon.” He mumbled out, lazily flopping down into his seat again, “The booze is on its way, and if you didn’t want beer, then that’s too bad. Go up and get your own, not my problem.”