#i left it pretty open to either one of ur muses :)

[buckets-and-trees]

Any thoughts on Mafia bucky and Steve? Love ur works!!

I thought I didn't really have any thoughts other than that I pretty much am always weak for them.

But then I got struck with this idea about an hour ago, and the muse BOLTED with it...

Title: Little Lark Characters/Pairings: Mafia!Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader x Mafia!Steve Word Count: 950 Summary: You were already in a dangerous situation, but one meeting may drive you into far deeper waters than you're ready to swim in.

Content/Warnings: non-con, non-main character death, vaginal fingering, non-explicit PIV and oral (male receiving), use of pet name (little lark), mild degradation, implied praise kink, dacryphilia

Author Notes: Catching up on week seven of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - using the COLLARS prompt - and filling my November box for Build-a-Bucky Bingo with OBJECTIFICATION.

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You flinched at sound of the gunshot and looked away.

Somehow you didn’t think they would do it, but they did.

You didn’t need to look to know your boss was dead.

You would be relieved, finally free from the debts and blackmail that had held you captive to work for him and keep your family safe, but you didn’t know if you would truly fare any better with the men in front of you now.

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers had come from Brooklyn to Atlanta to make a deal with your boss only to find out he had tried to cross the two men before they’d even sat down to negotiations.

“You have a choice to make,” Steve said.

Hesitantly, you turned your head back to look at the most handsome and intimidating men you had ever seen – it would be your opinion even if you didn’t know the things you already did about how dangerous they were, and you were sure you didn’t know even half of what they had done or what they were capable of.

Steve unlocked and flipped open the briefcase he’d brought in for the meeting, then turned it to face you. “You’ll walk out of here wearing one or the other, but it’s up to you.”

You frowned, looking at a leather collar on the left and a silver chain with a stunning sapphire pendant. Then you looked back up at the men.

The choice seemed too obvious.

“What’s the catch?” you asked.

“No catch. Your ours now, but you can pick what that looks like,” Bucky explained.

“I’m not–” you tried to protest, but Bucky cut you off.

“Unlike your idiot boss, we thoroughly did our homework before this meeting. We know you only worked for him to keep your family alive.”

“So, let me go! The debts owed were to him, not to you!”

Steve smiled, but it was cold, calculating. “But we don’t want to. Why would we squander a pretty little asset like you?”

Your chest tightened and you could feel angry tears welling up. “It wasn’t like that! I was only his assistant!”

“The only decent thing about him was that he never cheated on his wife,” Bucky admitted, “but his intentions for you were never innocent. You were on the list of things that could be part of our potential deal.”

An object, not a person. There was a sudden pit in your stomach now, too, but you tried not to react in any other way.

“Neither of us need an assistant, but we have other needs we think you’re well-suited for,” Steve took over explaining the situation, and made no attempt to hide the way his eyes roamed your form.

“Again, your choice,” Bucky said, “or we choose for you. You can be either our whore or our companion.”

You were quiet for another moment, then you dropped your eyes and softly murmured, “Necklace.”

The modicum of dignity would be minimal, but maybe you would be afforded at least some semblance of humanity as a companion.

Bucky took the necklace from its velvet case and strode around the desk and the dead body on the floor. He motioned for you to stand so he could put it around your neck. As he fastened it, you couldn’t help but notice the sound and feel as there was twisting and then a click.

The chain fastened with a permanent lock.

“Aw, our little lark is trembling,” Bucky cooed, tracing his fingers along the side of your neck.

“In fear or anger?” Steve asked.

You looked at him sharply.

He smirked. “So, it’s both. Good.”

Bucky didn’t move away from behind you, and his hands reached to tug your skirt quickly up around your hips. You yelped in protest when he pushed his hard bulge up against your ass and groped the fleshy globes.

And somehow Steve was suddenly in front of you, moving before you could even register. He took your chin in his hands even as Bucky’s fingers moved down between your legs, invading your panties to start playing with your folds.

“Bucky and I have always shared everything,” Steve said. “It’s why no one can beat us or come between us.”

Bucky suddenly found your clit, and it made you jump and whimper.

“Mmm, give her more of that, Buck,” Steve said, a wicked glint in his eye.

“We’ll make your body sing for us,” Bucky vowed, “don’t fight it, little lark.”

Your breath hitched, and you fought back a sob.

While Bucky kept tormenting your clit, his other hand went to the small of your back, urging you to arch and present your hips more readily for him. You couldn’t do anything but comply.

It was Steve who nudged your legs further apart with his foot edging your right to move out to a wider stance. Then he stepped back, and Bucky continued to push you forward. You almost stumbled forward, but Steve caught your hands to steady you.

And then he put your hands at his belt.

“Go on,” he urged, looking down at you, “be our good girl. You know what to do.”

Disobedience could mean death – maybe not yours, but someone else’s. They’d killed your boss in front of you without hesitation. You didn’t want to test them in the slightest. Your fingers worked open the leather belt and zipper in front of you while Bucky peeled your panties down over your ass and let them fall to the floor.

One cock in your pussy, one in your mouth, you tried to ignore their degradation and praise as they worked your body into unwanted bliss, tears falling down your cheeks and their collar hanging around your neck.

You were theirs.

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READ THE SEQUEL: BIRD ON A WIRE

When I tell you these mean mafia men really came and took over my creative brain about an hour and a half ago, I'm not lying. Start to finish, they were direct, brutal, and exacting in what they wanted.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Ok but can u also do this but with ron + the twins, I love ur smuts !!!!!!!

pairing: reader x ron weasley x fred weasley x george weasley 

warning(s): 18+, unprotected sex, foursome, double penetration, oral (female and male receiving), face fucking, fingering

word count: 4.2k 

a/n: soooo this is the longest thing i’ve ever written on this account but if anyone deserves it its the damn weasleys. i tried to make this as non sweet home alabama as possible and that’s probably why it’s so long. anyways, enjoy this ungodly amount of smut while i decompress. 

You had been spending a majority of your summer at The Burrow, where you boyfriend Ron lived. You spent day in and day out with him, practically on top of one another whenever you could be, but that didn’t stop you from spending time with his family. His mother was incredible, albeit a little scary at times, his father was charming, and Ginny was becoming a fast friend. But you couldn’t help the particular draw you felt towards the twins, Fred and George. 

You couldn't deny they were attractive, the genes were strong in the Weasley family. And you often did a poor job at hiding your attraction. 

You didn’t think any of them had noticed your subtle glances or blushes. Little did you know, all three of them had noticed over the few weeks you had been there. They were just waiting you out. 

~~~

Tonight you were all cozied around the fire pit, drinking some firewhiskey, taking advantage of the fact that Molly and Arthur had gone to visit Ron’s oldest brother Bill and his wife, Fluer, for the weekend. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were certainly feeling good. 

You were cuddled up to Ron’s side, his arm slung around your shoulders, a knitted blanket draped over your laps. You were so wrapped up in your boyfriend that you had barely noticed that Fred had taken the spot on your other side until his leg brushed against yours, making you still. 

“Do you need another drink, sweetheart?” Fred asked when you finally looked his way, his face far too close to yours in the situation to be normal. 

You blushed at his proximity, but nodded. “Um, yes, thank you,” you added bashfully. 

Fred dashed a charming smile at you and placed a soft kiss to your cheek before dashing off to get you another glass of whiskey, your blush only intensifying when you felt his lips on your skin. You prayed no one could see it through the light of the fire. 

Ron tugged you back into his side and dropped his lips to your ear. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop,” he said lowly, clearly not pleased by the situation. 

“He kissed me,” you argued softly, your head turning to press a kiss against his neck. He pulled back and shot a look down at you, his brow raised. A look you couldn’t exactly argue with. You got caught and you knew it. 

You stayed quiet, trying to keep your eyes anywhere except the two men that currently had your stomach in knots. But that effort was broken when Fred made his way back over to you, plopping down beside you. He passed you your new drink and you thanked him for it, sitting up straight to take a sip. 

You were caught off guard when you were pulled into his body and away from Ron, Fred’s strong arm now wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Have you been enjoying your summer here so far?” He asked quietly, making sure only you could hear him. 

Your eyes flitted cautiously over the group around the fire, making sure no one was noticing the strange behavior. You paused when you met George’s eyes, his own trained on the interaction between you and Fred, but you tried your best to ignore it. 

“Um, yes. You’ve all been quite lovely. I like it here,” you told him genuinely. You had been enjoying your summer despite tonights most recent turn of events. 

“Mm, good,” Fred mused, shooting another smile down at you. You couldn’t help but notice the little mischievous glint in his eyes that he got every time he was thinking something that was likely to either end brilliantly or disastourly. “I saw we play a little game. Are you in?” He asked. 

You swallowed nervously, knowing this could end very poorly. “And what is this game?” You questioned. 

“Let’s see how jealous we can get Ron,” he whispered, the smile never leaving his face. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you argued, knowing fully well Ron had already told you to stop… doing whatever you were doing. 

“Oh, c’mon Y/N. Live a little. Anyhow, you already know how this is going to end,” he told you. 

“And how will this end?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at him. 

He moved closer to you, so close you could feel his breath on your face. Your whole body was hot and the blush was creeping back onto your face and you knew he could see it. 

“Judging by the noises I hear coming from his room almost every night, he’ll fuck you stupid. And I get to hear those pretty noises again,” he told you shamelessly, pulling you into him closer. 

You shot a nervous glance at Ron, only to find that he was already looking at you over the rim of his own cup, fire in his eyes. He raised a brow at you and you could see the way the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, practically daring you to continue on. As if he knew exactly what you and Fred were talking about. 

“By the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to mind,” Fred added from behind you, making you whip your head around back to him. 

“Of course he’d mind. You’re his brother,” you argued incredulously, still not believing this conversation was even truly happening. 

“You think he doesn’t see the way you look at me and Georgie? You look at us like you want us to devour you,” he told you. 

You snuck a glance at George only to find that he was still looking at you. You could feel Ron’s eyes still on the back of your head. You gulped nervously, your brain short circuiting for a half a second. Did they… did they plan this? 

“I - I haven’t been -,” you went to argue, but Fred cut you off. 

“Don’t play coy with me. Maybe if you beg him nicely like I hear you do so well, he might let us join you tonight,” Fred teased, causing your core to pulse and drip with arousal at the thought. 

You could only stare back at him, his breath fanning your face as you took in his words. He knew he planted a seed in you that wouldn’t go away until it was satisfied. The smug look on his face only proved it. You didn’t get the chance to reply before you could hear Ron getting up from his place on the bench. 

“Bunny, come with me,” he said innocently enough to the ears of everyone else in the group, but you could hear the edge in his voice. 

You detangled yourself from Fred and rose up from your spot, taking Ron’s hand as he silently led you back into the house. Once you had passed through the threshold into the kitchen and away from the eyes of everyone else, he spun around to face you. 

“And what was all that about?” He asked, stepping right into your space so you had no other choice but to look up at him. 

“N-nothing. We were just having a chat,” you stuttered out, trying to not seem intimidated. 

“Wasn’t what it looked like to me. Spill it,” he said roughly, continuing to back you up until your back hit the counter, leaving you nowhere to go when his hands were placed on either side of your body. 

“Promise you won’t get mad,” you half heartedly requested. 

“Just tell me.” 

“He- he said, um, he said that we should try to make you jealous,” you told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it was only a half truth at best. 

“That’s not what has you blushing like a virgin though, is it? What did he say to you?” He pressed, the fire in his eyes growing larger by the second. 

You swallowed and took a deep breath before you even opened your mouth, knowing this could only go one of two ways. He’d either blow up entirely, or you’d have a night you’d never forget. “He said that if I begged you you’d let him and George join us,” you said quickly, all in one breath. 

You shut your eyes, waiting for his response. But when a chuckle fell from his lips your eyes shot back open in shock. 

“Is that what you want, bunny? Do you want them to join us?” He asked, his eyes now more playful than they had been just seconds prior. 

“Are you serious?” You asked after a moment, you head spinning that he was just offering this to you on a silver platter. You expected yelling, anger, the whole fit. You didn’t expect a cheeky smirk and twinkling eyes. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  

“They’re your brothers,” you argued. Why you were even arguing this, you weren’t sure. You wanted this and he knew it and they knew it. You just couldn’t understand why he was letting it happen. 

“It’s not like I’ll be fucking them,” he said with a laugh. “So, tell me what you want.” 

“If it’s okay with you…,” you started, trailing off. You looked up at him nervously, hoping your eyes conveyed enough of a plea that he would continue agreeing with you. 

“So beg,” he said, his voice dropping low as he continued to stare down at you. 

“I’ll be good, I promise. Just this once. I just - I - please,” you said, launching right into it but quickly running out of words as you watched the smirk grow on his face. 

“Go to my room. Strip. I’ll be up in a minute,” he told you, placing a kiss on your forehead before heading back outside. You watched his figure walk away for a moment, letting your mind race until you booked it up the stairs not wanting to wait any longer for the night to truly begin. 

~~~

You were waiting in your position on the bed for what felt like hours, but you knew it had only been a few minutes before you heard multiple sets of footsteps coming up the stairs. You moved to cover your chest when you heard the doorknob turn, unsure if you should be exposed or not right away. 

Ron came in first but left the door open just enough so your guests could hear. “Last chance, bun. Do you want this?” He asked, slowly coming over to rest his hands on the bed, leaning over slightly so his tall form was eye level with you. 

You knew it wasn’t your last chance to say no, but it was your last chance before the twins waltzed in. 

You took a shaky breath and nodded your head, saying “Yes,” loud enough so Fred and George could hear. 

The door was opening once more, the twins walking through, both pairs of eyes immediately on you. When the door shut, you stared up at them, unsure what to do or say, but their matching smirk told you they already had plans. 

Ron walked around the bed until he crawled on to it behind you, his legs bracketing your hips as you knelt between his spread thighs. 

“Let them see you,” he coaxed gently, hands coming around you to grip your forearms. 

He only put a light pressure on your skin, letting you move on your own as you exposed your chest to them. They took you in with hungry eyes but they didn’t move from where they both stood before you, waiting. 

“All of you,” Ron spoke again, his hands trailing down to your thighs, gently prying them apart. 

You leaned back and hid your face in his neck as he repositioned you, unable to look the two men in the eyes as your entire body got exposed to them. You knew you were a dripping mess over the situation and the embarrassment of it being so obvious made you squirm. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re more perfect than I imaged,” you heard George say, the bed dipping down infront of you. 

Your eyes snapped to him, watching him as he looked down at your glistening sex. His eyes were hungry when they met yours, desperate. Probably the exact mirror of your own. 

“Can I touch you?” George asked, his fingers twitching against the sheets, waiting. 

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for one of them to do anything right now. 

George wasted no time in bringing his fingers directly to your cunt, trailing one long finger through your slit while his thumb trailed soft circles onto your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from your lips when he pushed his finger in, immediately searching for you g-spot. 

As if your noises were a cue for Fred, the bed dipped on your other side and without a word, he was kissing down your chest. Soon enough, he was attacking your nipples when George was working your from the inside out. Your back was arching and your hips were moving at their own volition, unable to stop yourself under their ministrations.

“Does that feel good?” George asked you softly, placing kisses on your shoulder. 

When you only nodded, Ron grabbed your chin and forced you to look directly at George. “I won’t remind you again, bunny. Use yours words,” he said sweetly, but you knew there was danger laced in his words. You knew better than anyone else what he could do to you if he reminded you one more time. 

“Yes. Feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you told George, already breathless from the three men surrounding you. 

You felt Fred chuckle against your skin and you knew the smirk George was wearing was only mimicked by Ron’s behind you. They knew exactly what they were doing to you. 

You couldn’t stop the whine that left you when George removed his hand, but your eyes lit up when you saw him go to kneel at the edge of the bed. He pulled up his to the edge, draped your legs over his shoulder, and started trailing kitten licks all along your slit until his tongue was swirling around your clit. 

You held fell back against Ron’s shoulder, a moan falling from your lips as Fred moved to your other side to attack your opposite nipple. 

“Having fun?” Ron asked, beaming down at you. 

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes rolling back in your head with a flushed smile on your face. “Want you too,” you told him. 

“Of course you do, my greedy girl,” Ron mused, his finger coming to tilt your lips back and locking your lips in a kiss. 

Your body was overwhelmed with just their lips. You weren’t sure how you would handle it when their pants came off. 

Your hips were grinding down onto George’s face without you sparing it a second thought and you kept pushing your chest into Fred’s lips, your entire body grinding back on Ron’s body. 

“She tastes like fucking heaven,” George said, finally coming up for a breath. His entire chin was soaked in his own saliva and your juices and his eyes were blown with lust. 

Ron made a noise of agreement that was swallowed up by your lips, but you were ripped away from your boyfriend by George’s grip on your neck. He pulled you into a kiss with him, tasting yourself on his tongue, as Fred trailed kisses down your body until he was getting a taste of you for himself. 

Fred quickly brought you your orgasm, his tongue so deep inside of you that your toes were curling. Your hands had a monster grip on Ron’s thighs and every noise you made got swallowed by George, his lips hot on yours. 

You finally relaxed your body against Ron’s, his chest being the perfect place to settle against, as your body calmed down. 

“Think you can handle all three of us?” Fred asked cheekily, looking up at you from his place on the floor. 

You gave a shaky nod, but in your head you were unsure how this would even work. You never thought you’t get this far to even have considered it. 

That line of thought was abruptly cut off when Ron grabbed your hair and yanked back so you were looking up at him again. “What did I say about using your words?” He asked darkly.

“Yes, I want to. I can,” you got out breathlessly, still basking in the sting of your scalp. 

“Good,” Ron said, now satiated with your words. “Get on your hands and knees for us, bunny.” 

He gave you one last searing kiss before releasing you, letting you adjust your own shaky limbs on the bed until you were in the position he instructed you to be in. As you did that, the boys began stripping themselves of their clothes, Fred and George both strategically in your line of sight depending on which way you turned your head. 

You watched as they both ripped their shirts over their heads, a sight you were accustomed to thanks to many sweaty afternoons in the yard playing Quidditch. But you didn’t know where to look as they peeled down their jeans and briefs, relieving both of their impressive lengths. They were both around the same length, but Ron was thicker than both of them. No matter what, you knew you’d be sore in the morning. 

“This is how it’s gonna work, bunny,” Ron said, finally rounding the bed so he could see you. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt,” he told you, adding emphasis of his possession when he bent over and easily hooked two fingers inside of you, pressing directly on your g-spot. You jumped at the abrupt action, but you never broke your eye contact with him.

“Fred’s going to fuck that tight ass,” he continued, and you watched as Fred rounded the bed until he was behind you. 

“And George is gonna fuck that cute face,” Ron finished, George coming up on the other side of you to grip your face to force you to look at him. 

“Does that sound good, sweetheart?” George asked, looking down at you fondly. 

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you said, your hips beginning to move against nothing now that Ron had removed his fingers, searching for any ounce of friction you can get. 

They moved in almost perfect sync. Ron maneuvered his way underneath you swiftly, George pulled your head off to the side so your mouth was lined up with the tip of his cock, and you could feel Fred’s lube covered fingers breach the entrance of your tightest hole all at once. You were overwhelmed in the best way, unsure what to do with yourself but totally just along for whatever ride they were about to bring you on. 

When Ron fucked up into you roughly, George immediately pushed your head down to feel the full effects of your moan of his cock, causing a shiver to run through his body. They were practically fucking your mouth and core in tandem, one pulling out while the other brutally thrust in. 

You felt as if you were splitting open for them already, but when Fred’s cock finally lined up with your entrance and began pushing in, you practically saw stars. 

George let you pull away from him for a moment so you could breath through the new pressure inside of you, your head now buried in Ron’s neck as you panted and moaned. Ron had slowed down his thrusts to match with Fred, balancing you on the precipice of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for us, Y/N. Just give it a minute and it’ll feel so good. You’re gonna be so pretty when you cum for us,” Ron mused quietly in your ear, knowing that you’d latch on to his voice to get you through the intensity. 

Finally, your hips starting moving against theirs, a silent signal you were ready for them to fuck you, all three of them truly went wild with you body. 

George dragged your face back over to him, letting you do your own thing but keeping a steady hand in your hair in case you tried to pull away. Ron and Fred were fucking into you in perfect sync, pulling out and fucking into you at the same time. 

It was so intense you were shaking, only being held up by three strong pairs of hands at this point. But you couldn’t hide how good it was making you feel. Even as deep as George’s cock was down your throat, it was barely muffling the screams of pleasure you were giving them. You just hoped someone remembered to cast a silencing charm. 

You could hear them talking around you, a mix of praises directed at you and words shared between themselves. “Fuck, you feel so good” and “Just like that” mixed with “She feels like fucking heaven” and “Her mouth is a dream”. You could barely hear them over the blood pumping through you, but you knew you’d remember it later with a blush and a smile. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. Swallow it all for me,” George told you, bruising your hair out of your sweaty face. You felt the unmistakable twitch of his cock just before he spilled his cum inside of your mouth and fucked it down your throat, giving you no choice but to follow his request. He came with one of the prettiest noises you had ever heard, and you knew you’d want to hear it again someday if you were lucky enough. 

You pulled away from George panting, finally able to have a minute to catch your breath as Fred and Ron continued to pound furiously into you, your body jolting with every deliberate thrust. 

“Ron, please I’m so close,” you begged, for what you weren’t entirely sure, but you knew he’d know what to do. All you could focus on was how close you were, how tightly you were gripping both of your cocks, and trying your best to balance on shaky arms so you didn’t collapse. 

Without missing a beat, Ron turned his head to George. “Touch her clit,” he told him, finally sounding breathless from all the work he was putting in. 

Fred’s arms came around you to pull you up until your back was against his chest, giving George full access to your most sensitive spot. 

“Cum for us. Show us how much you loved this and cum for us,” Fred said low in your ear. 

Your eyes never left Ron’s as all three of them worked you closer and closer to the edge. As much as the twins were turning you on, this orgasm was for you boyfriend. Everyone you had was. He was the one that let this happen. Let them take you like this. And he was the one currently fucking your g-spot with every thrust it made your head spin. 

“Cum for me” was all Ron had to say, seeing and feeling just how close you were, for you to explode. 

Your vision went white and your whole body shook, the only thing keeping you grounded was Fred’s warm chest pressed against you. You knew the scream you were hearing was your own, but you couldn’t keep it quiet no matter how hard you tried. You pulsed around their cocks, milking them of their own orgasms as you were going through yours. You felt their cum fill you completely, another moan leaving your mouth at how erotic it felt. 

When you finally felt as though you had come back down to real life, you were settled against Ron’s chest, his cock still in you, while the twins were busying themselves with getting dressed. They were talking quietly while Ron ran his hand up and down along your back, just waiting until you were finally back in the present. 

George was the first one to notice your eyes had opened again when he finally got his pants back on. He walked over to the bed and knelt down so he was almost eye level with you. 

“That was wonderful, darling. You were perfect,” he told you, placing a quick kiss to your forehead before righting himself only for Fred to take his place. 

��What he said,” Fred told you with a smirk and mimicking his twin's kiss to your forehead. “We’ll see you two lovebirds in the morning,” he added with a wink. 

They both made their way out of the room, the door clicking behind them, leaving you and Ron in a blissed out silence. 

“Did you have fun?” He finally asked, tilting his neck so he was looking down at you. 

“I did. Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. 

“My girl always gets what she wants. You just have to ask, bunny,” He said, placing a kiss on your nose. 

When you moved your lips up to move against his, he stopped you with a chuckle. “No offense but my brother did just cum in your mouth. So let’s go get you cleaned up so I can kiss you properly, yeah?” He asked, wrapping a blanket around you so he could get you down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

“I thought you weren’t going to be weird about it,” you grumbled under your breath as he adjusted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. 

“That’s different and you know it,” he said defensively as he made his way for the door, making you giggle.

[spinster-sisters]

ohh okay! so to kick it off, can we get ateez members’ reactions to their very successful partner taking them to a company party like their trophy wife/husband/partner — not in a derogatory way tho!! but just like,, flaunting the members around and going on about how handsome and hardworking and amazing they are, even though everyone’s attention should be on their partner in that big event?

This is very different from the stuff I normally write but honestly I had so much fucking fun doing it. Like genuinely this made me smile like an idiot the whole time.

-

Hongjoong:

It's ur birthday or sum shit, but here's the dealio, he had some big work promotion at some smaller company. Most people haven't heard of it and it's nothing like the major corporation you work for so most people there just think of him as your trophy husband cuz he's so good-looking. while the party and presents were for you, you just could stop bring up how proud you were of him. He would immediately shut it down every time you brought it up, "yeah thank baby, I appreciate it. Hey, guys don't you think my baby is beautiful tonight?" Just won't let it distract from your attention no matter how much you bring it up. He doesn't think that he should be praised for doing what he should be doing. It's a nice sentiment and it makes him giggle but he wishes you would just let the guests congratulate you.

Seonghwa:

It's some work party on your behalf at your home. And Seonghwa planned the whole thing. Your not gonna deny you were just looking for a hot husband with social perks (read: rich parents and rich friends) but after meeting Seonghwa you genuinely fell so hard and so fast for how humble he was despite his wealthy upbringing, and you wanted to work even harder to provide him with the lifestyle he had always had at home. And he is happy to fulfill his house husband role for his doting partner. So yall are just happy and in love. Everyone at the party is your coworker and honestly, he would probably have just been your arm candy under any other circumstances, except you keep reminding people how great of a job he did getting everything set up. From a 5-star catering company to a live band, to imported wine from somewhere fancy, the whole thing took him weeks to put together and you will be dammed if he doesn't get the recognition for a job well done. He takes the praise blushing and mumbles quiet thank yous to all you and all guests who praise him, but he leaves it at that. If they ask him questions about the things around him he will keep his answers short and minimal yet polite before slipping away. Despite planning it, it isn't his party and he wants to keep it that way.

Yunho:

it's actually your friend's launch party for something or other. But you had a fair amount to do with the starting of the company as an investor and your friend had wanted to honor you as much as her. But here's the thing. Yunho's also pretty fucking cool, he doesn't have a permanent job, instead, he bounces around to all kinds of random things to keep himself entertained instead of just being at home all the time. the entire fucking time you're like "oh but have you heard what Yunho's been up to lately." He tries to one-up you with praise. Every time you say something cool he does, he brings up something cool you have done. And it just gets more and more intense as the night goes on to the point where the other giggles just fucking giggle cuz yall are so obvious in love.

Yeosang:

Yalls wedding is gonna be the social event of the year. You both come from very prominent families, but Yeosangs family got their money from fame not business. So when yall got engaged there was quite a bit of gossip about how "real" the relationship even was. Who the "throphy" was would change based on who you asked and it was getting annoying reading all the headlines. It was your wedding shower, and it was no secret that most of the people there were there for you and not him, but he couldn't care less. People kept coming up to you trying to talk business, and you were endlessly shutting them down because this was a day for both you and your soon to be husband, not for social climbers to try and get on your good side. The wonderful thing about Yeosang however is how much he can read you emotions even when you are trying to hide them. His course of action was simple. You both just fucking leave. You both had already talked to your actual friends and at a certain point you couldn't be bothered to keep up appearances with people who didn't respect both of you equally. So you left. Probably went and got some food in your cocktail attire. Much better use of time anyway.

San:

You're some kind of model or something. So it's like fashion week. So the whole time u have cameras shoved in your face and are being followed everywhere you go. But ur mans San is also incredibly beautiful, so you play a little game where whenever you go out all you do is put on sweats and a hoodie and you bring him out with him dressed in full fashion week regalia so the photographers are fucking confused who they are supposed to be taking pictures of. He thinks it's funny ao he plays along, wearing whatever you put him in and posing dramatically for literally every photo he can. You two go through the posted photos absolutely howling at them all night.

Mingi:

Your some big-time producer and Mingi is this like an underground rapper. Yall have been together long before you ever made it big and back before you got the job you lived almost exclusively off Mingi's part-timejob. But now the turntables have flipped and he can live mostly of your income allowing him to focus on his music and yall wouldn't have it any other way. But here's the shit. Some dopey fucking pop star you produce for comes over for dinner and makes a "joke" about mingi being a freeloader and you get so fucking petty. Especially after seeing Mingi's dejected face. So basically you help mingi produce a professional track and release it legitimately and not just on SoundCloud or in some shitty nightclub, and it fucking blows up way more than the other person music ever did and you just do nothing but talk up how amazingly talented Mingi is to your boss and he gets signed after the other person is dropped from the label. It's a great time.

Wooyoung:

Allow me to paint you a picture(this is a pun just wait for it.) Your an artist 😃 and Wooyoung is your husband and your muse. Almost everything you paint is either of him or reminds you of him. And your opening this big art exhibit and it's just this super fancy cocktail party with all the art snobs in the city and of course you bring him. As soon as yall walk in people immediately notice he's the guy in all the paintings and you're just like "yes isn't he stunning" and he's like "yes I am stunning" he's only half kidding. Whenever you go on and on to some art blogger about your muse he just sits there drinking it in with a smirk on his face, occasionally adding things like how you owe your success to his beautiful face. In that case, he's completely kidding cuz he knows damn well your talented enough to make anything beautiful with or without him.

Jongho:

ima say you married rich. You didn't have much growing up but Jongho has done nothing but spoil you. Despite the fact he came from a big business family, singing has always been his passion. When you begin to work in his father's company you rise through the ranks alarmingly quick due to your skill. It's some party for your father in laws retirement and everyone coming up to you betting your gonna be the next CEO. Here the thing though, Jongho left the company not long after you joined, so he could pursue singing and most people there haven't seen him since then and they keep giving him side-eyes, clearly thinking he threw his life away and he's just gonna be your "trophy husband" for the rest of his life. Not on your watch homie. You expected this so you and your supper supportive father-in-law set aside time for him to perform to the whole room and you're standing there all proud and satisfied as all your coworkers are dumbfounded at his amazing talent.

[tobesolonely]

muse

A/n: hello everyone!! im very excited to put this out :-) i was going to make a long one shot but ive never written anything multi-part before and i wanted to give it a go!! also my first time with an oc 🌟so i hope everyone enjoys!! not sure when the next part will come out but i wanna upload at least once a week or every two weeks or something idk haha but anywayssss lmk ur thoughts!

biggest, biggest thank u to my love @harryysstyless​ for beta reading and being so encouraging<333 luv u!!

photographer oc x harry styles

please let me know your thoughts on miss aminah, iman, serena, and harry!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

Los Angeles was your newest muse.

You had always been the spontaneous type. It came as no shock to your family and friends when you told them you had purchased a one-way ticket and were moving across the country. Although your parents weren’t too keen on the idea of their daughter moving so far away from them, they helped you withdraw your savings and find a modest apartment in LA before sending you on your way.

Your reason for moving to LA was simple, really. You were a freelance photographer that felt your career was growing rather… stagnant. You had a thick portfolio and were proud of the work you produced, but your clientele wasn’t as impressive as you’d hope it would be after nearly six years of working at it.

And so began your desire to move from New York to Los Angeles— one big city to the next.

People who knew you often described you as ambitious, fiery, and an absolute go-getter. If your big move scared you in any way, no one knew any better. Your confidence never faltered— not even in the slightest.

After nearly three months of being in LA, you developed a routine of sorts. You’d wake up, eat a breakfast that almost always consisted of avocado toast and coffee, and go on a run. After your run, you would come home, shower, and decide how far you wanted to venture to take pictures that day.

Sometimes your roommates, Serena and Iman, would join you to keep you company. Although you’d never met either one of them before answering their ad for a roommate on Craigslist, you had grown extremely close to the girls in the few months that you’d known them. Despite the two girls being friends since their childhood, they never made you feel left out, and you fit in with them effortlessly.

During your short time in the city, there were so many places you had been, but still, even more you had yet to see. Serena and Iman, both native Angelenos, would often suggest spots for you to check out and even offer to drive you around— you were from New York after all, and at twenty-four years old, you were still not the owner of a driver's license.

“You’ve never been to North Hollywood yet, right Aminah?” Iman questioned as you all lounged around, trying to come up with a place you had not yet been.

“No, I haven’t really gone anywhere farther than walking distance,” you reply, looking around the cramped living room for your camera bag. “Or the places you guys have driven me. That was still considered Downtown though, right? Where we went the other day?” You were still getting used to how absolutely massive Los Angeles was.

“We should go to Santa Monica or something— wait, Malibu!” Serena exclaims. “We have to go to Malibu, Mina. It’s so nice there, you could totally get a bunch of good shots.”

“Yeah, we might even see a celebrity!” Iman chimes in, stifling laughter.

It was an on-going joke between the three of you. When you first moved to LA, you told your roommates that you couldn’t wait to make your way around the city because you were hoping to run into a celebrity. It was Los Angeles after all— you figured they were everywhere.

You quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Celebrities here kept a low-profile and even if you did encounter a celebrity, it’s not like you would approach them. “You’re not funny, Iman,” you tell your roommate with a roll of your eyes.

“Yes I am,” Iman quips, wiggling her eyebrows. “If we’re gonna go to Malibu then I gotta change. Can I borrow a cute shirt from anyone?”

A short twenty minutes later, the three of you were piled in Serena’s car on your way to Malibu. You’d heard of the city before and knew it was a wealthy area, but that’s about it. Your roommates promised you that out of all the beaches in LA, Malibu had the nicest ones, and lots of places to take pictures. Since none of you had anything to do, you all decided it was as good a day as any to have a beach day and get some shots of your roommates to add to your portfolio. Since you didn’t know anyone except Serena and Iman, the pictures on your camera from the last few months consisted entirely of nature and inanimate objects. While it was good practice, you really preferred to photograph actual people.

“Traffic is so bad today,” you say from the backseat after traveling approximately two feet in five minutes. Iman snorts from the passenger side.

“When isn’t traffic bad, Mina,” she turns to look at you, an amused look on her face. “Don’t worry about it. It always gets backed up at this fuckin’ exit and then as soon as we get past it there’s like, zero traffic.”

“Right! I always complain about how shitty this exit is. I have no clue who designed it,” Serena adds, skipping through songs on her playlist. “It’s still early in the day, though. I’m just hoping the beach won’t be too crowded by the time we get there.”

“I don’t care how crowded the beach is. I just don’t want it to take us forty minutes to find parking…”

You tune out your roommate's voices, instead choosing to focus on the traffic jam outside the car. To Serena and Iman, people who were born and raised in Los Angeles, the city wasn’t necessarily anything special. Sure, they loved how there was always something to do, but the bad drivers, traffic, and smog got old. The novelty of LA hadn’t yet worn off to you, though. You didn’t know how your roommates were content to sit inside the apartment all day when there were tons of things to do basically right outside your doorstep. You felt like you were the one convincing them to go out with you half of the time, and you didn’t even know where you were going.

After what feels like almost entirely too long but was really only half an hour, Serena pulls into a fairly empty parking lot. “Are we not allowed to be here?”

“Why do you think that?” Iman asks, squinting her eyes to read a sign. “It doesn’t say it’s closed. I mean, there are a few cars–– look.” She points to a few cars scattered around the parking lot.

“I mean, it is nine in the morning on a Wednesday. People are probably at work,” you tell the two girls in the front seat. “Besides, there’s someone in the parking booth. Can you even close a beach?”

Serena drives forward, rolling down her window. “I mean, I guess not. You can close the parking lot, though.” You hum in agreement. She quickly pays for parking and tosses her receipt on the dashboard before driving slowly through the parking lot.

“I love when no one’s at the beach,” Iman sighs, clapping her hands. “No one will get in the way of your picture-taking either, Meens.”

You smile at the nickname. “Yeah, that’s true. We picked a perfect time to come too, guys. The lighting’s great.”

“Really? Is it gonna make my skin pop?” Iman turns around and sticks her arm out, sensually running her fingers along it.

“You always look good no matter what the lighting’s like, Iman,” you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at her. “You have the glowiest complexion out of all of us.”

“We’re literally all the same skin-tone, Aminah,” she retorts, crossing her arms.

“We have different undertones, though,” you answer. “So not really. Plus, Serena is way lighter than us! What are you talking about?”

“Should I park here?” Serena asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Why here? All these empty spots and you wanna park directly next to this car?”

“This is a good spot, Iman. It’s a parking lot. If they didn’t want anyone to park next to them, they should’ve taken an Uber and got dropped off.” She turns into the spot, quickly putting the car in park and crossing her arms to prove her point.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, smiling at your friends’ bickering. They were so close they were basically sisters. They argued sometimes and were quick to call the other out on their shit, and you loved it.

“I just think you’re weird for parking next to this car. It’s a nice car.”

“Who cares, girl?” Serena groans, exasperated. “We’re gonna be on the beach. They’ll probably be gone before we will.” She pops the trunk before unplugging her phone from the aux cord and stepping outside. Iman mimics her before flinging the door open as well and stepping out of the car.

You make sure your camera bag is closed all the way before situating it over your shoulder and climbing out of the car as well.

“It’s kinda cold,” Iman says, wrapping her arms around her body. “If I knew it would be so overcast I would’ve bought a jacket.” Serena hums in agreement and you look up at the sky, unphased.

“It’s like, seventy degrees?” you look at the weather app on your phone in confirmation.

“We get it, Meens. You’re from New York,” Serena teases, closing her trunk. She hands you a few towels and a blanket to carry while she rolls the cooler and Iman carries the beach chairs and umbrella.

“It’s a cold seventy degrees and you know it,” Iman defends. “Look at my goosebumps. I can’t fake this shit.” You shake your head at your overly dramatic friends and follow them down to the beach. You take off your sandals as soon as you’re off the pavement, wiggling your toes in the cold sand.

“We can set up pretty much wherever we want,” Serena points out, tucking flyaway curls behind her ears. “Where do you think the best place to be is, Mina? Y’know, so you can get good pictures?”

“It doesn’t really matter, to be honest,” you tell them distractedly, too busy looking around the beach in awe. Your friends were right–– out of all the beaches you’d visited in Los Angeles so far, this one was the nicest (and cleanest). “Maybe we can get a little closer to the water?”

The three of you walk for a couple of minutes before Iman abruptly stops, dramatically dropping everything she was carrying. “Let’s just set up here. There’s no one around anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“There actually is someone around,” you tell them, looking at a stranger who seemed to be fixated on staring at you and your friends. “Don’t look, but a cute guy is staring at us.” Serena and Iman immediately turn around, shading their eyes from the bit of sun that was starting to peek through the clouds. The guy couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away from where you were setting up.

...“Huh,” Serena says, turning back around. “Is it just me, or does that guy look a lot like Harry Styles?” She looks back over her shoulder again, but he’s no longer staring at the three of you, focusing on what appeared to be a book instead.

“Why would Harry Styles be at the beach by himself at nine in the morning?” Iman asks, unfolding a beach chair and flopping down on it.

“Why wouldn’t he? It’s Malibu, dude,” Serena responds. You could tell your friends were about to start bickering again, so you quickly jump in.

“Doesn’t matter. Neither one of you would go up to him even if it was, so what’s the point in arguing about it?” They both raise their eyebrows at you.

“And you would, Mina? Bullshit!” Iman exclaims, laughing. “I dare you to go see if it’s him, and if it is, ask him if he wants to join us.”

“That’s weird! What if it’s not him?”

“Even if it’s not him, we’ll still get to hang out with a cute boy.” Iman points out. Serena nods in agreement and you can’t deny that she makes a convincing argument. “Just ask him if he wants a mimosa or something!”

“No, don’t ask that,” Serena interjects. “Tell him that you’re a photographer and you’re working on building a new portfolio. Ask him if he would be cool with you photographing him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Are you sure that’s not weird, Serena?”

“Aminah, trust me. I wouldn’t deliberately let you make yourself look weird.” Your roommate reassures you.

And so you found yourself clearing the short distance to where the handsome stranger was laid, half hoping it was Harry Styles, half hoping it was not. You couldn’t act like you weren’t a fan of him–– you thought he was incredibly attractive and enjoyed his music just like most people. If Harry Styles was the first celebrity you encountered during your short time in Los Angeles, you‘d never stop talking about it. Ever.

When you’re almost to him he looks up, dog-earring the page he’s on. After making eye contact with him, there’s no mistaking that this is Harry Styles. You pinch the back of your hand, urging yourself not to freak out. He has a knowing look on his face and you’re grateful for your darker complexion that hides your blush.

“Hi,” you speak first, stopping a few feet away from him. “Uh, my friends and I are just uh, we’re... you know.” You internally wince at your inability to form a coherent sentence. His gaze never breaks from yours and you look away first, growing shyer by the second. If you thought he was beautiful on Instagram, he was even more gorgeous in person. It was incredible.

“Hi,” he finally says after a brief moment of silence. “‘M sorry if I was starin’ at you ladies a moment ago. I jus’ usually never see anyone else this early out here. Are you a photographer?”

You almost ask him how he knows when you realize your camera is still hanging around your neck. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” He’s still staring intently at you.

“Would you like to sit?”

You look over your shoulder at Serena and Iman who were pretending to be preoccupied putting on sunscreen, but you know they were waiting for you to come back with the man you now knew to be Harry Styles.

“Oh, my friends are waiting for me,” Harry looks up at you patiently, waiting for you to continue speaking. “I was actually going to photograph them. I’m working on building up my portfolio. I understand if you can’t for… I dunno, legal reasons? Or if you just don’t want to–– and that’s fine if you don’t, but would it be okay if I photographed you as well?”

“That actually sounds like a lot of fun. It’s kinda boring jus’ readin’ out here on my own,” he agrees quickly, surprising you. Harry stands up and stretches a bit before leaning down to gather up his blanket, towel, water bottle, and book. “What’s your name? I’m Harry.”

You know that Harry knows that you know exactly who he is, but the fact that he introduced himself to you makes him even more endearing. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Aminah.”

Harry extends his free hand to you. “It’s very nice to meet you, Aminah.” You love the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth.

As you approach Serena and Iman, their eyes go wide when they realize it really was him. Serena nudges Iman and you know without even having heard it that she’s saying, “I told you so!” Harry stops a bit behind you, smiling at them.

“Hello,” he starts. “S’okay if I join you ladies? Aminah here extended such a nice offer that I jus’ couldn’t pass it up, but wanna check with the two of you first.”

Serena’s mouth is shamelessly hanging open, and you realize that she may have been a bigger fan than she let on. Iman answers for them. “Of course! Mina’s building her portfolio and I bet it would look like, super cool, if you were a part of it!” Harry nods, setting the few things he had with him down.

“I don’t think I would even be the center of attention if ‘m sittin’ beside you beautiful ladies. I’ll jus’ act as a prop or something,” he flashes them a dimpled smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are your names? I’m Harry.”

“We know,” Iman answers a little too quickly. “I’m Iman and this is Serena.” Serena gives him a timid wave.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you all. Are you guys from around here?” He lays his blanket beside all of your stuff and sits down cross-legged, not once breaking eye contact with any of you. You had no idea how he did it.

“We live Downtown. We’re only over here so Mina could get some good pictures, she’s a photographer,” Iman answers proudly. “She’s amazing, but she’ll never admit it.”

“Iman…,” you trail off. “Stop, dude.”

“It’s true,” Serena jumps into the conversation, now seemingly over the initial shock of who was sitting barely two feet away from her. “She’s the best photographer I know.” Harry turns to look at you, an amused look on his face.

“That’s a hefty claim. I can’t wait to see your photography skills, Aminah.”

“They’re just hyping me up,” you reply, making a mental note to yell at your friends for embarrassing you once the three of you were alone again. “I’m not that good.”

“That looks pretty professional to me,” Harry says, gesturing to the camera that has not yet left your neck since arriving at the beach. “I bet you’re just as good as they say you are.” You look away, hiding your face. Iman, being the wing woman she is, can tell you’re growing flustered from all the attention and moves the conversation away from you.

“Do any of y’all want a mimosa?” Before anyone can even answer her, she’s popping open the champagne and handing the orange juice to Serena to open. Harry politely declines, as he drove himself to the beach that morning. You and Iman are ultimately the only ones who indulge in a drink since you were the only ones not driving.

Talking to Harry was like catching up with an old friend. He wanted to know everything about the three of you and whenever he felt the conversation was becoming too much about him, he quickly changed the subject. Harry learned that Iman and Serena have been friends since the second grade when Iman pushed some boy off of the monkey bars for teasing Serena. He learned your favorite take-out spots, your favorite bars, and what freeways Iman and Serena tried to avoid at all cost (it was the 405, which he agreed with). What seemed to intrigue Harry the most, though, was him learning that you just moved from New York and had never even been to Los Angeles before moving.

“Why did you pick somewhere all the way across the country that you’d never even vacationed at before?” He had a look of confusion written across his face. You shrug, not really knowing the answer.

“I mean, I’ve seen it on TV shows and in movies. That doesn’t count?” you joke. Harry still looks utterly bewildered.

“I mean… no?”

Serena laughs. “We were just as confused as you were, Harry. We were scared for a moment when she moved in because we were like, oh shit, what if she’s insane? You know? Like, what sane person would move all the way across the country to live somewhere they’d never even vacationed before?”

You let out an offended, “heyyyy”, lightly smacking Serena’s thigh. “I just needed a change and I’m a drastic person! I either go all-in when I do something, or I just don’t do it at all.” You defend yourself.

“I actually think that’s really fuckin’ cool,” Harry says after a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could just… up an’ go. Y’know?” you all nod, and it falls silent again. “Well, should we take some pictures now?”

Any intimidation you felt to photograph Harry disappeared as soon as he started posing for you.

Being that he was a major celebrity, he was no stranger to posing for a photoshoot. Harry was ethereal–– you knew the pictures of him would most likely require minimal to no editing. Serena and Iman also looked incredible, and you were thankful to have such gorgeous people as your muses. You were taking pictures of them in various places around the beach, only stopping once it started getting too crowded. There were starting to be too many people in the background of your shots and Harry wanted to get going, not particularly in the mood to be recognized. The three of you decide you should get going too. You had more than enough pictures to go through and besides, you were all starting to grow hungry.

Harry follows the three of you to the parking lot, keeping his head down the entire way. The closer you got to Serena’s car, the sadder you got. You didn’t want to stop talking to Harry and photographing him. However, you knew you were just in the right place at the right time, and it was likely that you’d never cross paths with him any time soon–– if ever again.

“Thank you for letting me photograph you,” you tell him sincerely once you were almost to Serena’s car. “That was really kind of you. I can promise you I won’t post them anywhere without your permission or like, disclose the location or anything like that.”

Harry finally looks up, determining you were far enough away from the crowds and he was no longer at risk of getting recognized. “It was my pleasure, really. Thank you for inviting me to hang out with you and your friends. It was a lot of fun getting to know you all.” You feel your body heat up.

“Where did you park?”

“Right there,” Harry points straight ahead. “You?”

You let out a loud laugh, causing Serena and Iman, who was walking slightly ahead of you and Harry, to turn around and look at the two of you. “We parked right next to you! Iman was getting on Serena for parking next to you because the lot was pretty much empty when we got here this morning.”

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle. “I guess it’s fate that we crossed paths then, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in agreement, stopping a few feet in front of Serena’s car. You hear her and Iman debating on where you should stop for lunch, but you were waiting to see what Harry would say next.

“Aminah? After you get a chance to look at those pictures, do you think you can send them to my manager? His name’s Jeff. I’d love to see how they come out.”

“Oh yeah, of course! Do you have his business card or something?” You were excited that Harry actually cared to see your work but based on the couple of hours you spent interacting with him, you learned he was just an overall insanely kind person.

“I can jus’ put his contact info in your phone? If you don’t mind,” his gaze falters, a sheepish look on his face.

“Totally! Let me just unlock my phone,” you dig in the pocket of your shorts, pulling your phone out and unlocking it with your face. You hand it over to him and while he’s looking down typing you glance over at your roommates who had shocked looks on their faces. You would explain to them later that he wasn’t giving you his number, just his managers, but for now, you’d let them think he was giving his number to you out of all people–– a total stranger.

Harry hands it back to you a few moments later, running his fingers through his hair. “Thank you again for such a great morning, Aminah. I’ll let you get goin’, don’t wanna hold you ladies up any longer,” he waves at Serena and Iman. “It was really nice to meet all of you. Hope to see you all again soon.” You notice that his gaze lingers on you for a moment when he says that, and you feel your body heat up for what must have been at least the tenth time that day.

The three of you watch as Harry unlocks his car and throws his items haphazardly into the passenger side before climbing in, slamming the door shut. His car starts immediately afterwards and he gives you a quick nod before quickly backing out of the spot, leaving. None of you say anything for a bit, just processing what just happened. Serena is the first one to speak, her hand on the handle of her car door.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Harry fucking Styles?” her voice raises at least two octaves and you know she’s about to have a mini freakout. “Did he ask for your number, Meens?”

“No dude, he just gave me his manager's number. He wants to see how the pictures come out after I edit them,” you tell her, opening the backseat of her car. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, that’s definitely a big deal, Aminah. Stop being so humble,” Iman tells you, exaggerated annoyance lacing her voice. “Did you see how he looked at you? When he said, ‘Hope to see you all again soon’?” She puts on a terrible posh accent.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, shaking out the blanket and beach towels before throwing them onto the seat. “Where are we gonna eat?”

Iman and Serena pile into the car as well, telling you about the three restaurants they were stuck choosing between. You hum distractedly, typing the name ‘Jeff’ into your contacts to see if Harry left a number and an email, or just an email. Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see the name is nowhere to be found in your contact list. You chalk up the mistake to Harry just forgetting to press ‘save’ after creating the contact and figure you can just find his manager’s contact information on the internet somewhere. As you’re scrolling back up through your contact list, your eye lands on a name that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

Harry Styles.

[sweetlavenderwritings]

Little to No Space

summary: tendou has a little crush on a certain someone, their straight faced manager that never reacts to his weird shenanigans. his best friend advises that they should get closer. 

-or, you get stuck in a locker with the guess monster.

a/n: this was based off an asmr i listened to a couple nights ago (you were hiding in a locker with a teacher of yours) it was kinda funny bc the one who  voiced it was oikawa’s official va. anyways, take whatever this is lol.

pairing/s: tendou satori x reader

wc: 2 147 (whoops)

tags: crack, comedy(?), humor, ur literally just in a funny situation lol, nsfw implication if u squint

-ꦼ———▸  crossposted on ao3

⋅. ♪ .⋅  Loving Tendou Playlist

“You need to stop staring at our manager and actually talk to her Satori.”  Ushijima’s deep voice broke him out of his trance, catching his attention.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wakatoshi-kun.” He deflected. Okay, maybe he did tend to stare at you. But he swears he didn’t do it that much.

Ushijima rolled his eyes at that, “I may not be the brightest when it comes people-”

“You got that right.” He snickered while putting his gym clothes away.

“As I was saying, I at least know she isn’t the least bothered by you,” he shut his locker door with a firm bang, interrupting his musing for a moment, “we can all see how she isn’t fazed by whatever antics you flung at her.”

“But that’s just because she’s just like you!” His best friend raised his brows at him. “Not completely, but she’s uhh, I don’t know-stoic. Straight faced and doesn’t say anything much unless necessary.”

“I’m not stoic.” 

“Sure you aren’t.” Has he really not noticed?

“So you’re implying that you can be close to her?” He knew his best friend can be quite obtuse sometimes, but where did that come from?

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, where did even get that idea?” He turned his attention to his duffel bag, already done with the conversation.

But it seems Ushijima wasn’t, “You said she was just like me, even if it was just a bit. And since we’re close, that means you could be with her as well.”

“You’re grasping at short straws here Ushiwaka,” he teased. “Why do you seem so persistent to get me to talk to her?”

“Because I think she might be one of the few people that would actually tolerate your weird personality, rather than shun you for it like most people would.” Oh, that was actually helpful. He knew Ushijima rarely spoke, but whenever he did, it was always something meaningful and helpful.

Ushijima scratched at his neck, looking around the locker room looking for something.

“Uhh, watcha looking for there buddy?”

“I’m missing my pair of socks.” Ushijima groaned. Suddenly, all his previous thoughts of him being meaningful was diminished within a second. 

“That’s the fourth time this week ‘Toshi.”

“I know, but for some reason they don’t end up where they’re supposed to be.” He was pouting, the redhead could tell. You wouldn’t actually see it until you looked closely.

He had to reassure their captain before he drones about ads he read in today’s newspaper. He was not interested in discounts held for sock stores. “We’ll ask the janitors tomorrow, okay? Don’t fret about it.”

Satisfied with his answer, Ushijima nodded. They both grabbed their bags then turned to leave, until they heard a knock at the door.

“Uhm, excuse me. Is Tendou-kun here by any chance?” Speak of the devil...

He stilled, clearly not expecting for you to look for him. He wondered how long you’ve been there, hoping you haven’t heard a single word from their conversation that just happened to be about you.

Ushijima looked at him, a faint smirk curved at the corners of his lips. He gave him a look as if to say, this is your chance.

Without consulting him if he even wanted to answer, he strode towards the door and opened it without warning, causing you to jump back in surprise. The basket of jerseys nearly fell from your hands in shock. 

He mentally slapped himself in the face. Way to go Wakatoshi, scare off our manager.

“Satori’s right here,” He waved to him, standing still like a deer in the headlights. “I must go.” He walked past you, leaving no space for you to even start a conversation with him.

“Oh, uhm alright. Thank you Ushijima-san.” You waved to Ushijima before to turning to him, looking at him with a blank expression.

“I’m sorry, it seems I interrupted you on your way home. But I promise this will be quick.” You said with a flat tone. You reached down on the freshly laundered basket of jerseys, fumbling with the different colored fabrics as you looked for something. 

With a victorious ‘ah’, you held up a familiar pair of socks. 

“I kept seeing these somewhere in your locker rooms whenever I clean after practice. I usually just place them on the benches but this time it was on basket with the rest of the jerseys so I took the liberty to wash them.” He took them from your hands, fingers lightly brushing when he grab ahold of the very socks his best friend was pouting about. He jolted, feeling a sensation from the minimal contact.

Either you ignored him or didn’t notice, which was probably the latter, you moved on to place the basket on a corner. 

‘You need to stop staring at our manager and actually talk to her Satori.’

“So, how are you managing so far manager-chan?” He hoped his voice didn’t reveal how nervous he was to be alone with you. 

In truth, he liked being with you at any chance he could get. It was fun flinging non-nonsensical shit at you, just to get a reaction. It was like a challenge for him really, wanting nothing more than to see you flustered or even better, laugh at his jokes just for once.

You never looked irked or disgusted by his whole demeanor, which was something he appreciated a lot. He hoped you never would, fearing that it might be the inevitable truth he wasn’t willing to accept.

That he was a monster no one could truly understand.

“I’m still afraid of getting hit by a ball every time Ushijima-san serves, but other than that I’m doing fine.” You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, exhaustion evident on your face. “You’re not going home, Tendou-san? It’s already late, I suggest you hurry now so you can rest easy for tomorrow’s practice.”

He smirks, suddenly feeling a mood for a good teasing. “Dawww, is our dear little manager concerned for the resident Guess Monster?” He quirked a brow as he leered at you with a teasing grin. 

Unperturbed, you tilted your head, looking a bit puzzled. “Of course I am. I am your manager after all, isn’t it my job to look after the team?”

“Don’t be shy, you can just say you like me, manager-chaaan~” He thought really shouldn’t tease you like that but he really can’t help himself.

What happened next surprised him the most.

He figured you’d wave off his teasing like always, roll your eyes then move on with your day. But instead, he spots the blushing of your cheeks. Something he didn’t expect from you at all.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops at the sounds of footsteps nearing the locker room.

Shit. If the team saw you alone with him in the locker rooms at this hour it’ll be the death of him. You wouldn’t have cared, but he knows they’ll hold it over his head and tease him relentlessly, insinuating that there’s something going on between the two of you.

With a hushed ‘Quick!’ he grabs your arm then pulls you into a vacant locker. He shuts the door in haste, making a loud bang that makes him wince. 

“Tendou what’re you-” he shuts you up with a hand covering your mouth. He looks at you pleadingly as he zips up his lips, urging you to stay quiet. You nod with his hand still covering your lips. 

“Hurry up Semi! We’re gonna be late!” Reon’s voice booms loudly as they enter the room, causing the both of you to jump in surprise.

“Wait a damn minute will you? I just forgot my wallet.” The sound of a locker opening fills in the sudden silence. He waits with a bated breath hoping they’ll leave soon.

But it seems that wasn’t the case. 

“Say... Isn’t that Tendou’s duffel bag?” You both hear Shirabu’s voice ask with uncertainty. Tendou freezes, unsure what to do.

There’s a muffled noise of shuffling. “Yeah, it’s his alright. It’s his jacket draped over it.”

“Then why is it still here? Shouldn’t he have left by now?”

“Didn’t we pass by Ushijima just earlier?” Shit. Shit. Shit.

The locker you were both hiding in was getting hotter by the minute. He feels a sweat trickle down his neck as he tries not to breathe loudly as to not grab attention. 

When Ushijima told him to get closer to you, he surely didn’t mean this!

Your soft hands reach to take his off your mouth. He mouths a soft ‘sorry’ but you shake your head softly, not minding his mistake in the slightest. With the ongoing conversation about his whereabouts outside he distracts himself with little details he begins to notice.

Like how you smelled of baby powder and faint deodorant, or how there are strands of your hair sticking to your exposed neck from your ponytail. He tries hard not to think about how close you were. Your shoulders pressed against his chest, head just below his chin, and your hips just right where his-

“Tendou-kun,” he hears you whisper. He cranes his just a bit, trying to get a look at your face. “Your phone is bumping my hip, I know there’s not much space but can you please move it a bit?” 

Phone? What phone? He was pretty sure he left it in his bag━

“Sorry.” He apologizes meekly, wiggling his hips away from you as he desperately wills his sudden hard on to calm down. This locker was gonna be the death of him soon if he stays here any longer. 

He thanks whatever deity is at work above for your obliviousness. A blessing in disguise he’s really thankful at the moment.

“Eh, why’re we wasting time here? He probably just went to the bathroom.” Semi cuts off as he grabs his wallet. Tendou thanks the ashen blond silently, promising not to tease him just for a day.

He hears the door shut. He waits until the footsteps are completely gone, then sighs in relief when no one comes back.

“Phew, that was a close call. Who knows what might’ve happened if they found us here.” He lets out a laugh, “we can leave now, [y/n]-chan.”

Then he’s looking at you, head ducked so he couldn’t see much of your face. But he peers between the strands of your hair and finally notices how flustered you look.

He smirks. “[y/n]-chan?” 

For once in your life, you try to avoid his eyes.“O-oh! Tendou-kun, are they gone yet?” 

“If I knew better manager-chan~ Judging by your flustered face, I would assume you actually wanted to stay here with me.”

Your eyes widen like saucers. “No! It’s just that it’s cramped in here, it got hot so I am blushing for different reasons!” Your composure was breaking by the minute, hands flailing in exaggeration as you try to explain in defense. 

He barks out a laugh. “Manager-chan, I was just kidding! Calm down for me, hm?” You don’t reply.

“Alright, I’m sorry for teasing you.” He says as he reaches for the knob, “let’s just get out of here-”

You shoot your hand on his wrist, surprising the both of you. “Uh... about what you just said.”

He waits for you to continue. With a deep breath you try to finish your sentence. “I don’t mind, being here with Tendou-kun.... that’s all.”

The message clicks in his brain. I like you Tendou-kun.

“Oh.” He replied numbly. He was sure he must’ve looked stupid with the face he was making, still awestruck at what you just admitted.

You giggle, a sound he finds himself emitting to his memory.

“You’re weird as ever Tendou-kun,” the look of adoration you gave him nearly made him choke. “But that’s fine, I like that about you.” 

Two confessions all at once? Was this a dream? Boy, he surely was gonna panic about this to Ushijima later, not that he’d be any of help.

Waving away the butterflies in his stomach, he ruffles your hair. “You’re too full of surprises today [y/n]-chan. Someday you’re gonna give me a heart attack if you just suddenly give me these cute faces without warning.”

He feels himself smile wide at another bashful look you give him.

“Now let’s get out of here.” He twists the knob inside but it doesn’t budge. Confused, he tries to twist it another way but it still doesn’t move. He struggles with it for a minute until he gives up. 

It wouldn’t open.

“Uhh... Tendou-kun, I think we might have to call the others.” He hears you say tentatively. 

“Sure, do you have your phone with you?”

You pat your pockets for a second. “Oh, I must’ve left it in my bag. How about we use your phone instead?” 

“...” 

[lebrookestore]

I think ur a great writer so I wondered if I could request smthn? Could I request a short detective!johnny Drabble? the genre is ur choice hehe :)) btw don’t feel obliged to write this 💕🌸

thank you for sending this in Jessi! I’m sorry this took so long, I was trying to get a plot, and tbh idk what it is either. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: detective! Johnny x reader

Themes: slightly sherlock esque, inspiration from one of the episodes of a series of unfortunate events

WC: 914 words

“It’s quite obvious”, the detective deadpanned, taking a long slow drag of his cigarette. You rolled your eyes at his antics. Johnny was always one for dramatization, but you didn’t think a murder as gruesome and complicated as this one needed any. 

The officer sighed exasperatedly, “John, this isn’t the time”

“Have you sent the samples to the lab?”

“We did, nothing came back”

“Incompetent fools”, he muttered, “Of course they wouldn’t get anything, the culprit is too smart”

“Smarter than you?”, you quipped, causing him to look at you, lips twisting upwards into a smirk. His dark eyes scanned your figure, making you shift uncomfortably, “No one is smarter than I am”, he said, “But I suppose you have theories, Watson?”

You glared at him, “I am not your Watson”, you stated, even you knew very well yourself that the relationship the two of you had was very much reminiscent of the great detective Sherlock and his friend. 

You had known Johnny for three years now, solving several crimes, from petty to impactful and sometimes plain annoying. You knew him better than anyone, and he had been a constant in your life, however annoying.

He was a proud man, but rightly so, for his intellect was unmatched in the whole of Seoul. But he was difficult and stubborn and refused to admit defeat. Granted he was usually right, when he made mistakes, he somehow blamed it on another, or used them to his advantage.

Johnny Seo was brilliant.

“Didn’t she have a snake? I thought we had agreed that she had died from its bite”, you added, taking a sip of the tea you had. He clicked his tongue, “No, the bite marks are too precise”, he picked up the pictures of the victim, looking at it intently. You took a moment to admire your best friend, before recollecting the fact that there was a murder to solve.

You bit your lower lip, realizing that this was happening more and more often. You would find yourself spacing out, thinking about Johnny. Sometimes it would be idiotically obvious, it was a marvel he didn’t notice.

You were undoubtedly in love with Johnny Suh.

His eyes lit up, you could almost see the gears in his head clicking in place. “Taeil, take me to the scene”, he said, “I want to see something”

Officer Moon Taeil nodded, grabbing his coat. You got up to get yours, but Johnny handed it to you instead, not sparing you another glance as they walked out. You sighed, shrugging on your coat and following them out. 

After all, every Watson followed a Sherlock.

Johnny picked up the needle that was on the carpet, inspecting it in his gloved hands. It was pretty thick, slightly curved and extremely sharp looking. “Of course”, he muttered, turning towards Taeil, “Take this to the lab and have Doyoung examine it”, he instructed, “I believe I know how our victim was killed.”

“Do tell”, Taeil urged the man, putting the needle in one of those clear bags for later. You inspected the place, looking around, at the cabinets and at the frames.

“We’ll need more proof first”, he mused, “So until I’m sure I won’t say”, he turned to you, “Tea at Kim’s?”

“Sorry, I have some writing to finish up”, you explained, “I’ll be off”

He nodded, “Send that to Doyoung”, he repeated his instruction, he turned to you again, “See you later”

You bid him farewell, leaving the scene of the crime.

Johnny felt quite stupid, which wasn’t something he was used to. 

He looked at his phone, at a picture at the both of you. You were smiling, and he was staring at some sort of device, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He sighed, rubbing his temple. 

You walked into the room, throwing your coat on the couch and standing near the window, pulling out your phone, “Hey”, you greeted, “Were you right?”

He smirked, “Of course I was. The murderer was clever”

“Complimenting the murderer?”, you asked in mock surprise, “What has he done to achieve such high praise?”

“He created a device, with needles, a mix of a syringe and gun, to mimic the snake so the blame couldn’t be placed on him. Of course, in his hurry to get away, he dropped on of the needles, leading me to my conclusion”

You raised an eyebrow at this, “You and your far fetched deductions that somehow are always right”, you tsked. He stayed silent for a minute, walking over to you. You froze slightly as you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. “But I can’t see what’s right in front of me right?”

“Hmm?”, you hummed in question, looking behind. He smiled.

“With all my deductions, I never deduced your affections for me.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. He smirked, resting his head on top of you. You didn’t respond, realizing there was no way you could deny it, especially not to him. 

“Do you”, you paused, your mouth feeling quite dry all of a sudden, “Do you-”

“This is why I’m the detective and you’re my Watson, I suppose”, he mused, “I’m the one who gets stuff, no matter how late.” You stayed silent, not following, mind still clouded by the fact he knew. Instead, you waited for him to say something, anything honestly, but when he did, you were left speechless.

“I deduce you will go on a date with me?”

@lebrookestore,2021

[reversecreek]

pops hip n winks at the dash. haaaaiiii. me again. i’ve honestly missed playing lana fr a while she’s one of. my most treasured muses bc she’s jst a silly n vivacious ball of sunshine or alternatively? a train wreck depending on which way u turn her in the light..... i actually hv two playlists made fr her n one is rly old bt it’s more like. songs that Remind me of her which u can find here n then here is more like. stuff u’ll most often catch her blasting on her record player as she dances around in her underwear w the curtains open. OH and here is her pinterest 🍓⚡

* kristine froseth, cis female + she/her  | you know lana jameson, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a few hours? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to play that funky music by wild cherry like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole cherry red gym socks worn with nothing else, doodling penises in the condensation of a stranger’s car window, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘scrappy doo is a filthy slut’ thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 2nd, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her  )

HISTORY:

lana grew up in a big house in albany, NY. i picture it w dark oak floors n lots of light furniture. albums framed on walls. mayb some rolling stone covers too frm way bk when of the bands her dad’s label signed. kind of like… a rock star palace w no evidence of children at all. i think i described it best in one of lana’s self paras once when i said the garden ws “as big as it was unloved”

lana’s mum victoria (vic) ws a music journalist w a pretty fruitful career ahead of her when she met lana’s dad richard (rich). his record label ws jst starting out, founded on the coattails of his wealthy best friend’s (jensen peters) investment w his other best friend (who he jst calls knoxville). it rocketed to success when they signed poppy injects, a rock band w an electric stage presence, n vic ws drawn to the glitz n glamour of a man tht ws at the helm of his aspiring industry. their love ws very impulsive, all or nothing right frm the start, n it ws almost like she ws mre in love w his accomplishments n what he represented than him.

(DRUGS TW) anyway so jameson records repped a few rock bands bk in the eighties, altho poppy injects r who they’re mostly known fr, namely bc of hw brightly they crashed n burned. they were a big chart success bt the lead singer hd quite an intense struggle w heroin (wsnt rly subtle abt it either while he ws in the public eye as u cn probably imagine frm such an on-the-nose band name) n he ws always in n out of the papers. it eventually brought down his career n it ws a big publicity nightmare

lana pretty much… grew up around figures like this throughout childhood. real characters who wld kind of… b extremely volatile n destructive abt their troubles. the jameson house was an open one as welcoming clients went n a lot of parties took place there. a lot of the time musicians wld b snorting lines in the kitchen when she wnted to grab a bowl of cereal fr breakfast n it was just. a very strange environment fr a child to grow up in. more zoo than home. more shaken snow globe than resting place. (END OF TW)

(ABORTION REFERENCE) her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her much. her older brother caleb ws unplanned bt they sort of welcomed the surprise more bt… quickly realised they weren’t cut out fr parenthood n then when lana came as another surprise 3 yrs later they didn’t even try to hide their resentment abt the situation. her mum ws actually booked in to have an abortion bt cldnt go through with it at the last minute. once when lana ws a kid she asked her why she’s so cold towards her she jst turned her head frm her dresser, looked at her, told her abt this n said “idk why i didn’t go”. lana didn’t kno wht to say to tht so she jst left her room n closed the door (END OF REFERENCE)

(DISSOCIATION TW) bc of the intensity of her parents ignoring her growing up lana adopted this sense of like…. she didn’t rly kno what it ws bt it ws a delusion of sorts where she thought she ws a ghost bc she gt this strange outside feeling. she’d jst sort of… drift around the halls w no-one acknowledging her n sometimes she ws jst convinced she wsnt actually there or they cldnt see her n she ws jst haunting the house frm a previous family. (END OF TW) her imagination festered an explanation out of smthn she didn’t understand essentially. lana used her imagination to do this a lot growing up. it ws kind of like the band aid she slapped over everything. after all she wasn’t alone if she was sword fighting imaginary pirates dwn the hallway with a poker from the fireplace. 

the one saving grace tho tht sort of?? gt her thru this n made her feel Seen ws caleb. lana quite genuinely hs always thought the sun shines out of her older brothers ass like she jst thinks. he’s the best person in the entire world. wld b rly bewildered if anyone questioned tht. he wld always look out for her n cut the crusts off her sandwiches (he’d cook fr them most of the time bc their parents were too busy/didn’t care to) n sometimes wld even sleep at the bottom of her bed curled up like a guard dog. it ws always lana n caleb n his best friend tommy against the world in tht house (tommy lived next door bt was always over bc he had very strict parents tht he found suffocating)

(ARMY MENTION) SO when tommy announced tht he’d signed up to the army (bc of pressures from tommy’s military dad to fulfil some kind of stupid “legacy” tommy didn’t even care abt) n caleb said he was going with him lana ws understandably…….. completely blindsided. she ws rly upset tht they were leaving n was kind of like “wtf why are u doing this like what do u even think this is gna solve” etc n begged caleb not to leave her there on her own n jst to not sign up in general bc tommy had to bt he didn’t listen. 

ERM i won’t go into it but it didn’t turn out well as u can probably imagine bc the army is a terrible industry n caleb had to return home without tommy. he wasn’t the same after that. (END OF MENTION)

what’d been a rly close relationship before where he ws basically like a surrogate father figure to lana was Not there any more. he ws rly withdrawn n always pushing her away n snapping at her for the sake of getting her to leave him alone. on top of this lana had a lot of shit go down while he was away n rly just shouldn’t have been a kid alone in tht house. regardless lana thought if she kept grinning as wide as she cld she’d convince caleb to join in too. maybe if she seemed fine n happy he’d take the lead. maybe she’d believe it too n start to feel it n everything could go bk to how it was before her world became so different. lana liked the way the sky flipped when she tipped her head back on the swings bt this was different. everything was upside down bt this didn’t make her belly feel like she’d swallowed a butterfly and it wasn’t funny bt still, she kept laughing. always desperate to find something to laugh at n if she couldn’t find it she invented it. as long as ur laughing the world can’t b that bad.

she ws always well liked in school bc she jst tended to treat everyone like they were bffs no matter who like u cld have literally bumped shoulders w her once in the corridor n she’d be like OMG HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII let’s kiss<3 n like she ws a huge notorious flirt w any n all as well as incredibly impulsive n jst. wild honestly to put it simply too bt things like. changed a bit frm 16 onwards. (HYPERSEXUALITY & IMPLIED TRAUMA TW) she jst became far more reckless honestly n like....... jst didn’t rly seem to care after a certain point abt herself too much.... got herself in a bunch of bad situations.......... kind of jst flung herself to the wolves numerous times without any caution abt the way they’d bite. formed a lot of self destructive habits one of which ws cruising craigslist personals fr random hook-ups n like. she literally cld have wound up in a ditch somewhere honestly it’s a shock she hasn’t. despite various dips n inclines in her journey navigating this side of her it’s very much still present in her life to this day n she struggles to kno hw to control herself at points. sometimes she feels like a melting candle tht needs moulding by thumbs until it can form a person again. sometimes she’s only sure she’s real when she’s being touched. (END OF TW)

ANYWAY. laughs nervously. went to college to study dance bc she’s always loved dance in general bt specifically ballet (despite definitely not hving the discipline for it) n honestly this was both good n bad fr her. had a whole string of terrible heartbreaking relationships bc she tends to fall into those hard n fast n they were w a lot of bad people fr like 98% of the time. she kind of learned more abt what love is during her time there tho which is a gd thing bt she still isn’t very good at knowing hw to believe she deserves it so it’s a process. she hd fun tho. threw 498572598475 outrageous n elaborately themed parties. ws friends w pretty much everyone on campus. 

despite a strained relationship w her brother n having to go home to visit n check on him whenever he got rly bad it ws the first time it actually felt like she’d found a home in a lot of rly loving n genuine friendships n lana will never forget hw much that experience meant to her even if she definitely struggled there too. college felt like a place she belonged n then suddenly she couldn’t belong there any more n there was a big sense of floundering in that. like where do u go now when u’ve never known home elsewhere? how do u happily go out into the world if it means leaving ur world behind?

she applied to a dance company in LA n fell in w a pretentious art scene there full of wannabe andy warhols n the like. became a makeshift edie sedgwick to some guy w dyed white hair n the idea his every concept was revolutionary when rly he jst shot her dancing barely clothed splashing around in a random fountain in his friend’s mansion on an ancient film camera. she’d spend her days floating around on lilo’s and prancing in feather boas and racing with glitter leftover frm last night in her leotard w smudges of faint red lipstick to barely make her job on time. always a sexy train wreck bt this time? make it hollywood. 

(IMPLIED ALCOHOLISM TW) i won’t lie to u lana hs always partied way too hard bt then partying way too hard turned into slurping merlot thru a crazy straw shaped like a flamingo at 4 in the afternoon wearing penis novelty sunglasses n it wasn’t quite so much of a party when u were doing it on ur own. this rly snowballed into place in college bt carried on n wound up getting her fired from the dance company bc she turned up to rehearsals drunk one too many times n they didn’t allow fr sloppiness like tht. it was a “professional operation” that didn’t “accept that kind of behaviour” bt lana was jst like ummmmmmmmm that’s totally dramatic btw way to spank me in the town square like i’m gale w a raw ass n back in the hunger games bt ok sure i’m out ig. BOOP! (literally booped the director on the nose before leaving) (END OF TW)

honestly hd no idea what to do w herself after her job fell thru in LA n was pretty embarrassed actually upon sobering up the nxt day. cldn’t bring herself to tell her friends for a hot minute bc she felt like a failure or smthn n she was meant to be living this glamorous life out there being the classic wild n silly n fun Lana Jameson. cldn’t figure out how to repackage it into a funny story tht wouldn’t worry ppl. eventually wound up jst caving n telling her closest besties (shoutout freya n rosa) bc she ws hving a weird time dating losers n randomly living in LA even tho she didn’t kno why she was there any more after losing the job n they were jst like. fk it then. jst come here. we’re in irving. and so? mizz jameson packed her bags....

PERSONALITY:

always smells vaguely of wild cherries or strawberry starburst or jst the candy aisle in general. if she ws a vinyl record she’d b this one n she’d only play good vibrations by the beach boys, dancing on my own by robyn, play that funky music by wild cherry, femme fatale by the velvet underground n (i can’t get no) satisfaction by the rolling stones

the jameson family r pretty well off n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. mostly kids of celebrities n stuff like tht. she amassed a bit of an instagram following #nepotism bt also fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects. lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, bright red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights, holographic stickers of planets on her cheek n glitter used like highlight, 90% of the time a red lip) n bc she’s not gna make ur eyes bleed to look at or anything let’s b real

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. knew everyone n everyone knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once.

deliberately puts on tht kind of Magnetic Alluring Act tht femme fatales wear in movies w most ppl. kind of…. is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as. hates being sad n always wnts to be happy / making ppl happy. chameleons to situations. feels like she’s performed as the vivacious n fun loving Lana Jameson fr so long tht she doesn’t rly kno who she is beneath tht bt she isn’t too keen to find out. sometimes gets glimpses n feels the urge to close her eyes.

she’s always been rly spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand ridiculously absurd n chaotic stories. she’s like oh ya this one time this guy made me ride him with a daddy saddle like i was woody and he was bullseye. he literally made me call him bullseye. or she’s like. oh ya once i had to run barefoot thru a cabbage patch bc this one farmer wanted to have a threeway w me n my friend tht we met off craigslist n every framed photo in his house was a pig dressed up in cosplay bt honestly they were kind of cute n he was sexy aside frm the murderous vibes n the fact he kept calling me babe which i’m pretty sure means he wanted to dress me up next bt like whatever honestly.... she tells jst the most batshit stuff n the person she’s telling it to is left blinking like. wtf.

uncontrollably flirty. insanely confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n will try. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine.

likes to roller skate n hs a red pair she’ll glide around in at night lit up by amber street lamps breath sticky w the taste of wine n lollipops probably heading to a random hookups. who needs ubers?

always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. honestly likes dangling her whole body halfway out too. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s sour haribo cherries or strawberry lollipops.

luvs bowie (ONLY aesthetically) n prince (wholeheartedly) n madonna (completely) n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think.

daisies n poppies r her fav flowers bc daisies r wild n overlooked n poppies r the first thing u look at in a green field. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. honestly it’s like a burning train wreck but u can’t quite tear ur eyes away. often the heart of many sordid gossip scandals.

PLOTS:

TBA bc she’s only jst arrived in town i won’t lie to u all but i’m gna whip things up on here anyway n link in chat w updates at some point........ that said? lana is insatiable n it isn’t rly unlikely tht she cld’ve bumped into ur muse in a grocery store aisle n somehow a wild spontaneous adventure spawned frm that alone.......... if u have any immediate ideas we can discuss 😋

[normiewrites]

happy bday kat u big fat pussy ass whore, heres ur iwa smut @bigpokico

also thank u to @bubblebanks1611 for beta reading this for me!

other tags: @kingtamakimurder @kbakugouwu

Practice is over - Iwaizumi Hajime x (fem)Reader

Warning(s): daddy kink, jealous fucking, orgasm denial, being used as a cumdump, choking, shower sex, semi-public sex, oikawa is a cuckhold hahAHA

“Who do you belong to, y/n?” Iwaizumi grunted against your wet back, your body trembling as you leaned against the cold tiled wall. You bit your lip harshly, holding in your moans as you felt his hard member thrust in and out of your soft velvet walls and his finger playing with and pinching your bundle of nerves, sending shocks up your abdomen. The steam from the hot shower that was running onto both of your bodies left your skin glistening with water drops and you admired how it accentuated the muscles of Iwa’s hand that was leaning against the wall along with your right hand.

You felt a spank against your ass, the skin slightly scorching due to the hot water running over the sensitive spot, making you moan as you arched your back, pushing your ass further against Iwa.

“I fucking asked you a questions, answer me” he growled, his other hand leaving your clit, snaking up your body and pulling on the roots of your hair, making you groan out his name as he leaned in to your exposed neck from behind, softly biting onto your sweet spot.

“I-I’m yours, Hajime” you moaned, clenching your pussy around him from his roughness.

“Say it louder”

“I’m yours, daddy!”

“Oikawa, stop pouting, you’ll get wrinkles” you chuckled, making him pout even further. You were on your way to pick up Iwaizumi from practice when you bumped into these two training late. You ended up staying for it despite the neediness between your legs that you had for your boyfriend.

“I’ll still be pretty, y/n-chan” he replied, taking a sip of water as you let your eyes linger on his neck for a bit too long.

“But what else can you be anyways? Definitely not loyal, always breaking up with your girlfriends, you can’t stay with just one” you mused, smirking at him as you took the water bottle from him.

“Maybe because the one I want is taken” he winked at you.

Being with Iwa and Oikawa for a while, his teasing never got to you, but you did know who it got to, and you wanted him to do something about it.

“Oh really? Maybe you can borrow me for a night, though I may be more than you can afford” you chuckled, patting his bicep in a mocking manner as he scoffed softly with a smile.

Before Oikawa could answer your tease, Iwaizumi interrupted, “Oi, get here, Shittykawa”, holding a glare with his words.

You turned to your boyfriend, smiling at the banter between the two as Oikawa joined him on the court, not before his eyes landed on you, a darker glare piercing you and making you subconsciously hold your thighs together. Yet you smirked, because he had heard all of it.

You couldn’t help your eyes trail down the muscular expanse of your man in this new position; your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you against the wall, the water glistening and highlighting the muscles with each move. Your eyes trailed down from his neck to his collarbone, then his pecs and abs, your eyes stopping at where his cock entered your pussy. You could just cum from the sight if it wasn’t for him denying you your release, especially from the way that your lips dragged around him when he pulled out. You threw your head softly back against the wall, your hands pulling at his wet roots as he kept slow and deliberate thrusts, bottoming you out every time, pelvises hitting each other.

“You’re such a slut, ‘you can borrow me for a night’? You just want to be used up as a cum bag, fill every pretty hole of yours up” he growled before latching his mouth onto your left tit, nipping and sucking at the skin around before softly biting down on your areola. You arched your back, your chest pushing against his face as he continued his ministrations on your body.

Your thighs quivered and tightened around his waist as his fingers groped your ass cheeks, leaving a few bruised marks on them, ramming his hard cock into your tight clenching walls, his tip pressing against that soft spongey muscle inside of you that made you see stars, making you tug onto his hair tighter as your back kept moving further up the wall.

“Don’t cum till I tell you to, doll.”

“Hey, y/n-chan, can you get the balls with us?” Oikawa called out to you, his voice interrupting your Instagram adventure.

Sighing softly, you murmured “I wish those weren’t the only balls I was getting” before going across the court to help them collect the balls after tucking your phone into your pocket.

As the three of you shared a comfortable silence, at one point when you got up from your bent over position near the nets and turned around quickly to put the ball into the basket, you banged into a strong and tall object, toppling on top of it. You groaned as you looked down, your hands on either side of the brunettes’ head, your hips straddling his as he propped his knees up as your school skirt flared around his stomach.

“Oh, hey there, Shittykawa” you laughed, sitting up straight, still straddling him as you looked at his flushed yet smirking expression, “What are you smirking at?”

“Nothing, y/n-chan, you’re too cute” he chuckled, getting up on his elbows before he pushed you off of him, making you land on your ass, earning him a kick to his calf.

You may have acted innocent, but you were so thankful with how wonderfully this all played into your hands, as you could feel Iwa’s glare at you the entire time, and you knew it would become worse if he spotted the boner that Oikawa sported.

“Practice is over” Iwaizumi suddenly announced, grabbing you by your wrist and picking up his bags on the way out as you sent a friendly wave to Oikawa.

As you both reached the locker rooms, you managed to snatch your wrist away from his grasp, pouting at him as you rubbed it softly not before being pushed up against the lockers, his hand making them echo on the inside as he slammed it against them.

“You’re such a tease, don’t act so innocent, you knew what you were doing” he growled lowly, his other hand wrapping itself around your throat, his rough calloused hands thumbing circles onto your skin.

You smirked softly, rubbing your thighs together in victory as you got what you wanted; Hajime jealous over you. You knew what all entailed in this and you wanted every second of it engraved onto your skin.

“I’ve been such a bad girl, Daddy, pleeease don’t punish me~” you whined softly through a pout as you let your hands run over his chest, licking your lips as you felt his muscles twitch underneath, his musk enveloping you into a faint daze as you watched a few beads of sweat drip down his face.

He shook his head, grabbing your hands in one tight grip as he pinned them up above you before leaning in close to your ear, wedging his thigh between your legs, whispering, “You won’t be ready for this.”

You watched in amazement and slight pain as only his cum dripped out of you, none of yours. You felt him fucking his own seed into you for the second time that evening as you stood with your back against the wall, one leg draped over his hip as he held it close to him, his cock buried into you at such a perfect angle. You had to bite onto your hand to not moan too loudly and not orgasm as he had instructed. Your insides burned from holding on so much as you were kept from releasing, the coil unbearably tight inside of you. Everything got even tighter as you both heard the door opening.

“Iwa-chan? Are you taking a shower right now?” the familiar cheery voice asked, the door slamming shut to the locker rooms.

You couldn’t help but to clench onto Iwa’s cock, the possibility of being caught much too exciting. What was even worse was that the shower walls were semi-opaque with a hazy coating, so it was easy to see shadows. Hajime didn’t miss out on your excited clenching, a low growl ripping out in him as he rutted into you deeper, smirking at your worried eyes.

“Yeah, what do you want?” he grunted out before moving his free hand to rub at your clit, biting down harder onto your hand as you clenched you eyes shut, seeing white as you felt like you were floating. You couldn’t hold it back any longer as you slowly let your strings snap one by one.

“Nothing, I just wanted to say, you’ve got a pretty cute girlfriend” he smiled, going through his locker and retrieving his stuff.

“When you fucking cum, you better let him know who’s making you cum this hard” he whispered to you before adding the most power he could to the thrusts.

“Oh yeah?” he responded to his best friend, his lips twitching as his oversensitive tip kept kissing your cervix, watching as his cum fell out the more he fucked it into you. At one particular thrust, his tip hitting deep against your g-spot, you felt everything snap inside of you, your toes curling and fingers leaving long scratches down his wet back as you finally came around him.

“Hajime!!!” you screamed out loud, your body shuddering as you couldn’t stop cumming, taken aback by how hard your orgasm hit your body. Iwaizumi followed you soon after, biting into your shoulder as he filled you up with his cum and you felt so blissed out with all of the seed filling you up, you almost forgot about the third person.

“Y/n-chan?”

[heroprose]

the regular;

a/n. well what do u know.... turns out i WILL be writing for jojo on this blog...... @jojosmilktea, that is!! hi jojo i was ur bnha spring event anon! and i’m SOOO sorry this is late RIP!!!

ship. shoto todoroki x reader

summary. bubble tea shop au. it’s true that he knows your order by heart, but he wishes he knew a little more.

//

to be quite honest, you didn’t know this bubble tea shop even existed in this part of the city. 

it certainly didn’t look the part, all pristine with white stone walls and flower boxes hooked onto the closed glass windows. no, in fact it looked a little too bougie for this gray high rise district and you suspect that if it were not for the current downpour, wherein great big rivulets of water are endlessly streaming down the streets, hipsters would populate this cafe’s space in no time.

you cannot blame them, of course. it’s certainly a nice building and totally instagram-worthy. but what attracts you to it is not the vintage stone walls nor the massive poster plastered on the inside of the glass window, with vibrant letters that spell out NEW SEASONAL FLAVORS! but instead, it’s the generous pink awning in front that’s saving you from the insidious downpour. 

you were supposed to do a little grocery shopping before heading home, damn it. technically, though, you could brave the rain for a while and shop for bread and eggs while sopping wet, but it’s a deeply unappealing idea. it doesn’t help that your go-to grocer with the terrific deals is three train stops away either and that your phone is dead, drained from too many rounds of crossy road on your commute long before the rain even began.

restless, you squint through the window of the shop inconspicuously and gape in horror as you realize it is just as cute inside as it is outside. from what you can tell, it’s set up like a little garden party, with metal outdoor chairs and circular tables and the tiles even have flower smiley face stickers on them. oh no. 

it is something of a relief you’ve only discovered this bubble tea shop now because any earlier would have you blowing your bank account on extra boba and grass jelly. and in this economy? not ideal.

still, your eyes waver to the poster again. rose milk tea? peach iced tea? the prices aren’t listed anywhere so you presume they must be absolutely monstrous. completely insane, probably, and jacked up immensely to compensate for the expenses gone in the decor alone and--

“we’re open, you know. you can come in.”

you pull away from the window hastily, letting your back bump into the metal back of chair. biting back a cry of pain, you eye the speaker head-to-toe before letting your shoulders slack. the black apron tied at his waist screams barista. actually, everything about this dude screams barista, from the rolled up sleeves to the vaguely disheveled collar. even the watch on his wrist-- woah. is that a limited edition tag heuer watch? you blanch a little.

he grips the broom with both hands and gestures with the jerk of his chin to the door. “you can come in,” he repeats. his bangs flutter about his forehead thanks to the gusts of wind and it’s a bit mesmerizing to see the red and white flutter like that. 

“oh,” you say, desperate to recompose yourself as you pretend you weren’t wringing out droplets of water from your clothing just minutes before. “it’s okay, thank you. i’m just waiting for the rain to pass.”

the barista opens his mouth but before he can speak, a loud clap of thunder zips through you and goosebumps erupt across the expanse of your skin. with ears ringing, you wince and the tag heuer-wearing fellow only watches. you purse your lips, glancing from him. to the onslaught of rain, to finally the door. 

well. so much for staying outside. wordlessly, he pulls the door open for you and you oblige quietly, mumbling a small word of thanks as you pass him.

unsurprisingly, the shop is wholly vacant, save for him, the boy who follows you in, and another barista behind the counter, who leans against the table behind him with arms crossed. the radio is on but it’s turned down so low that it might as well be off.

it would be painful to loiter in this shop for an hour or so without buying anything, so begrudgingly, you pull out your wallet and pray to whatever higher deity up there that you won’t get hooked on their drinks and subsequently, their freakish prices. you’ve got a budget, for goodness sake. 

when you step to the counter, the barista that met you outside sets his broom aside to meet you on the other side. “what would you like?” he asks automatically, with the tilt of his head. you glance over the menu above his head despite knowing your answer deep inside your heart.

“taro milk tea, please,” you say, bringing your gaze back to him. a trickle of rainwater slides down the curve of his cheek and you have to tear your gaze away. “medium, with boba. and extra sugar too.”

“will that be it?”

“yes,” you reply with your eyes downcast, carefully deciding on whether to use cash or credit. maybe you can use some of your spare coins this time.

his gold name tag says “shoto,” and it gleams even in your peripheral vision as he nods and turns to the other barista with the spiky hair who stands a few ways’ away and glowers a bit. 

“katsuki,” says shoto. “one medium taro milk tea with--”

“yeah, yeah,” says the other barista snappishly. “i heard. i’m literally right here.” he pulls away from the table and exits to the back forcefully and you two watch him in relative silence. a guitar-heavy shawn mendes song plays in the background; played too softly for you to determine which one though.

shoto’s gaze swivels back to you, undisturbed by the attitude his coworker just presented and so you do your best to remain indifferent as well. it is similarly pure irony to have such a gentle cafe hosted by such personalities. 

“name?” he simply asks and you tell him, not bothering to question why that was still necessary if you were the only customer in the entire shop. 

and it is equally strange that after katsuki returns with your drink, about to hand it to you, shoto acts to intercepts with an extended hand to take the cup away.

“what are you doing?” says katsuki incredulously, drawing back.

shoto presents the sticker with the order printed on it in the air. “i need to put this on.”

“seriously? it’s not like you could hand it to the wrong person,” he mutters, but lets shoto tease it out of his hand before promptly returning to the kitchen again, letting the doors swing behind him. you refrain from smiling too wide as shoto carefully presses the sticker onto the cup behind the counter with an unexpectedly concentrated expression on his face.

when he utters your name to catch your attention, shoto slides your drink over to you, not letting go until your fingers accidentally brush over his. “here you go.”

“thank you,” you say brightly, shaking it for good measure. the ice clinks distract you momentarily from the noise of rain hitting concrete. the cream and purple taro swirl together brilliantly.

he nods, turning away to take a cleaning rag into his hands. shoto wipes at the counter meticulously, every once in a while swiping a smudge with his fingertips to evaluate his work. the quiet is only periodically punctured by the clap of thunder and when shawn mendes starts belting out the background adlibs via the radio.

“when do you think the rain will let up?” you muse absentmindedly, fingers drumming the raised counter as you push along your bubble tea and dig around the container for a straw of your favorite color. “not for long, i hope.”

shoto blinks, glancing up. “i heard it’ll last all through the night.”

steely dread pools at the bottom of your stomach. “no!” you gasp, confronting shoto. “really? i don’t have an umbrella or anything.” you didn’t hear anything of the sort, but then again, you haven’t checked the forecast since this morning. maybe you can wave down a cab or something. you let out a brief laugh of disbelief that rapidly devolves into a groan. “man. that stinks.”

he looks at you sympathetically, watching you deftly pierce the plastic seal top of your milk tea with more force than necessary. 

you bring the straw to your mouth, sipping quietly as you think of your next line of action. the richness is disturbingly good and you’re saddened to know that you’ll be returning in the future, rain or no rain. 

taking a seat in a metal chair, you finally give the shop a thorough glance over. with all the bright lights and pale wallpaper plastered with colorful stickers. above you, the ceiling vents buzz quietly. the whole shop is just--

“dazzling,” you murmur after several minutes, submitting to its glamour. “everything’s so pretty here.” the interior designer really went ham here and it shows. you fish your phone out of your slightly damp pocket and wipe at the screen with a sigh. you’d even take a photo if you could.

unbeknownst to you, shoto had left the counter upfront and is wiping down a table nearby as you speak. “thank you,” he says and you jolt, head snapping towards his direction. “we do our best to be presentable and comfortable.”

“full marks on both then,” you say breezily and a ghost of a smile teases at his lips before he walks away to the backroom. 

he’s amused. did he think you were funny? your ears start to warm up a little and you drain your milk tea faster. in any case, it’s best that you brave the storm sooner than later. 

there’s little doubt that the rain won’t be stopping any time soon and it would really be the icing on the cake if you not only got stuck in a thunderstorm but fell ill as well. you’ve realized, from all your years of life, that people don’t appreciate their functional nostrils until they get stuffed. 

and you don’t know how much time passes in that cafe with the absence of clocks and your phone, but after catching yourself glancing over at shoto for the fifth time, wondering if you can make him smile like that again, you finally think that enough is enough. your chewing speeds up. 

then you stand up, careful to not let the metal feet scrape the tiles. should you just book it, through the rain? or should you stand under the awning a little longer, hoping the rare cab will notice your helpless self and save you? as you mull these thoughts over, you toss the cup into the bin and wipe your hands with a spare napkin, getting rid of the condensation.

“wait.” 

shoto’s calm voice makes you whirl around yet again.

as he walks closer, you notice that he’s gripping something in his hand and you can only bring yourself to stare as he presents it to you.

“take it,” he says. “this is my umbrella.”

your heart stutters for a second. “huh? no, i couldn’t,” you say hastily, dismissing him with a wave. “that’s really kind of you though, thank you.”

“but you said you didn’t have one.”

you give him a quizzical look. “but if i take yours, then you don’t have one.”

“katsuki-- um, the other person who works here-- lives near me. we commute together sometimes. so please,” he says, gesturing the closed umbrella.  you wrap your fingers around the clear plastic gingerly to his coaxing. “take it.” 

tears nearly prick your eyes as you lean over to pat him on the arm graciously. he’s more alarmed than anything else as you do, silently wide-eyed, and is it only then that you notice his eyes are different colors. “thanks, shoto. i’ll be back tomorrow to return it then. i promise!”

he gives you a quick nod. “i don’t work tomorrow. i’ll be here all weekend though.” 

“alright, shoto. i’ll see you on the weekend.”

“stay safe.”

you’re already turning away and pushing open the door before you see the flicker of a smile pass over his visage again.

/

“you gave away your umbrella?” says katsuki after the cafe closes later that evening. his eyes narrow down at his fellow coworker sharply. “to a damn customer?”

“it’ll get returned,” assures shoto. his upper arm is warm where you had touched him, and his hand hovers over it for a second before he shrugs on his jacket.

“that’s not the point,” his coworker seethes, angrily hanging up his apron. “my car is two blocks over and i was relying on you to do your part in bringing the umbrella. idiot!”

ah.

/

you come back that sunny weekend, with shoto’s trusty transparent umbrella in hand... as well as the weekend after. and the weekend after that. sans the excuse of the umbrella, of course.

when it is katsuki that greets you at the counter, he does little to hide his disapproval of your order; grunting when you greet him with a cheerful “hi katsuki!” and grimacing each time when you smile and add, “with extra sugar!” to your order.

“you’re aware of how much sugar is already in this stuff, right?” he tells you. 

“i’m here for a good time, not a long time,” you reply. “and are you really supposed to be asking me that? as someone who works here?”

katsuki scoffs and wordlessly punches your order in anyway. his brew, however, is immaculate without fail so you don’t question his tactics.

but when it is shoto... he greets you warmly, stretching the conversation by asking about how you are and about your day.

“the regular?” he eventually asks after several weeks of you making the same order as the last. 

you smile. “the regular.”

sometimes, you loiter near the counter when it’s not busy. you learn, with some semblance of glee, that shoto is a student like yourself and he only works part-time-- the rainy afternoon you met him on had been a shift he was covering for someone else. other times all you can do is take your drink and wave him goodbye.

even on the extremely busy days where you cannot even find a vacant seat, there are brief seconds where you think of leaning against the wall and enjoying the atmosphere. it is a startling realization, how desperate you want to linger in his presence. 

your affection is making you ill. ugh, and being bloated is not a good look on you either.

drinking taro milk tea at competitor bubble tea shops don’t even sate you. it’s always too watery, too thin; the flavors rounding off as bitter, over brewed tea. but you drink them to wean yourself off. you should probably stop drinking them altogether though.

some time passes before you can find it in yourself to return. the storefront is as pretty as it always is whenever you pass it by on your commute.

“hey, how are you? have you been alright?” asks shoto right off the bat, dropping his washrag haphazardly beside the sink when you find yourself at the counter again after the weeks of hearty self-restraint.

his concern is so vivid it unnerves you. it’s a funny and ill-placed nervous look on his face, eyebrows pulled tense. “i’m fine,” you say, “how have you been?”

“i’m well,” shoto says. “and... that’s good. it’s been a while. i thought you might have started getting your milk tea fix from somewhere else.” he pauses. “have you?”

his sincerity makes you throw your head back and laugh, but your stomach gurgles at the recollection of drinking so many subpar taro milk teas. “never,” you tell him finally. “i like this place too much. and the people here too.”

“i see.” shoto’s smile is bright this time, eyes so soft even as he speaks. “the regular then?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your own gaze crinkling up. “you know me so well, shoto.”

/

“quit freakin’ flirting at the counter,” snaps katsuki, mopping the floor vigorously. “do that shit when you’re not at work, icy-hot. it’s disgusting that i have to stand here and listen to you two.”

shoto frowns. “it’s not flirting. we have to be kind to customers.” he calls from the kitchen.

“kindness is you giving extra napkins, not asking if they’ve been going to other bubble tea shops. as if.”

“we’re... just friends then.”

“just friends, my ass. what, you think that extra sugar ass sweet tooth loser came in every week alone just to get tea? you know what...” katsuki’s peeved grumbles trail off until they’re no longer comprehensible.

shoto just ponders on this as he drains the sink.

/

“here,” says katsuki one saturday afternoon. “take it. and go.” he pushes the purple drink into your hand and wipes his own hand on his apron. “extra sugar. don’t blame me when your teeth fall out.”

“damn,” you say, although you are hardly taken aback by his crudeness anymore. “but i will. i’ve got a lot to do today, so i can’t stay and chat. bye guys!”

“take care,” says shoto just as katsuki says, “don’t care, didn’t ask.”

(when you wave goodbye, however, you are pleased to see that they both reciprocate kindly.)

by the time you eventually take a sip, you’re already on your way to the rail to get to your favorite grocery store. today, it’s buy one get one free bags of potatoes so you know you’ll be stocking up this time.

mindlessly, you pierce the top with your straw, careful to aim for the center. you give it a stir before taking a sip, the familiar creaminess filling your mouth. 

although it’s... different, somehow. 

sweeter, you think. did katsuki actually overload it with sugar this time? seemed like a weird prank to pull. perhaps he was teaching you a lesson but considering that he hasn’t been fired yet indicates that this was an infrequent occurrence. hopefully. 

chewing the boba thoughtfully, you pull the cup away in order to squint at the dark text printed on the sticker. it’s the same as you always say it: a medium, iced, taro milk tea, with boba and 25% extra--

the word “sugar” is scrawled over with black ink, although not deliberately it seems. it’s just covered up with a slew of numbers and letters written unbelievably neat in spite of being on a cylindrical cup and you nearly hack up a black clump of sugary boba onto the concrete sidewalk. 

but nevertheless, you force it down to look at the order again, more closely this time.

they’re numbers, and your heart stutters in your chest at the realization there’s just enough to be a phone number; followed by a name that you only ever saw emblazoned on a gold name tag.

you want to commit the numbers to memory, but it’s undeniably hard to concentrate. not when shoto’s gentle smile is on the forefront of your brain and  when big, fat droplets of water are hitting your forehead with incredible force. 

you glance up at the swirling, ashen clouds above you, bloated and expecting. an uncomfortable feeling crawls up your spine at the realization that you’ve forgotten your umbrella at home today too. 

oh god. not again.

/

“i can’t believe you actually wrote your number on my cup today... very smooth, shoto.”

there’s a beat before shoto replies, his voice tinny and distant over the phone. “actually, i did that the first day you came in-- when it was raining. i figured you didn’t notice or you were rejecting me.”

“oh. so, wait-- you did it twice then? that day and today?”

“no,” says shoto. “just that day.”

“then who--” you stop yourself.

outside your window, a clap of thunder shakes the sky. and the epiphany that follows renders you both silent.

[creepy-carrion]

Wrath | Eyeless Jack

Not a reader insert for once. I guess you could insert yourself into a particular character here but,, yeah. Idk what this is, more of a character study that turned weird.

cw; heavy gore + organ consumption, kidnapping

taglist; @just-a-creep-babe​ (sorry if ur just on this for reader inserts fjdfdgf)

They were all just cattle. The unsuspecting, brainless lifeforms roaming this city, each one of them more disposable than the next. The pungent smells coming from the cities they lived in made Jack’s lip curl up in disgust. He’d never understood how his former self had allowed himself to live in these horrible conditions. Then again, the human mind ran about as deep as a puddle after a summer shower. How could he have known better?

Even with so many people around, the demonic being had no trouble staying hidden as their voices drowned out any sound he made. Though their loudness pierced his ears, it was probably one of their most convenient inconveniences. Save for a few times, Jack had never been caught during one of his hunts.

Speaking of which. Hunts. The only reason Jack bothered to drag his lifeless body to urban areas anymore. It had been so long since his previous one, he could already feel the saliva gathering in his mouth at the thought of human flesh. Of course, there was a particular organ he hungered for the most, but he was not protesting thought of liver or even just a meaty leg either.

His tongue lapped at his yellowed teeth, his excitement managing to dampen the disgust he felt for his environment. Now for the interesting part… Jack gripped his dark blue mask between his fingers, lifting it off his face. The demon drank in the scents, the sounds, the movements, anything to locate whoever was bound to meet their fate tonight.

Pretty soon, a particularly interesting scent drifted his way, catching his interest. It almost had a hint of sweetness to it, but not to the extent that it was sickening, like most of the superficial women that wandered around at this hour. This one would do.

Jack started moving, following the scent until he reached a window. The lights were off, save for one small nightlight and the lamps in the hallway. Perfect. And foolishly, the windows had been left open to escape some of that summer heat that had accumulated in the room. Humans truly did not like to make things challenging, did they?

His hands were trembling as he yanked the window open, with a roughness he hadn’t expected from himself. His hunger was overtaking his sense of reason. Jack suppressed an impatient growl, slipping into the room quietly. His ears perked up, listening for any signs of the victim waking from their slumber, but he could not hear any.

Jack was a careful demon, usually performing his kills in a cleanly matter unlike most of his little friends. But tonight, he knew he would not have the patience for that. With a swift movement the mask was ripped off his face, revealing his shark-like teeth and empty, oozing sockets. The girl in front of him stirred in her bed at the clattering noise, before opening her eyes. But it did not matter. By the time you see the train coming, it’s too late to move out of the way.

Her mouth opened, but the icy screams that were supposed to come out where replaced by the sounds of gurgling as blood started filling her throat. Before the poor girl had even had time to process someone was in her room, the demon’s sharp claws had ripped clean through her artery, windpipe and vocal cords.

As she was still hanging onto whatever little threads of life she had left, Jack had already started feeding. His claw dragged across her belly like a scalpel, bright red blood oozing from the wound as her organs lay bare. Her last breaths left her mouth as the eyeless demon dug his teeth into her intestines. 

As soon as the warm juices filled his mouth, a sense of relief coursed through his body, causing his muscles to relax. It was a kind of relief only those who have suffered from demonic hunger pains could really understand. The pains he’d felt as his stomach begged for nourishment subsided, his uncontrollable salivating was finally put to good use, and most importantly, the rich, metallic flavors were addictive. It was probably the closest Jack would ever get to a serotonin rush, and he knew it. 

His feverish feeding session was not peaceful for long. It could not have been more than a few minutes when the vibrations of someone running up the stairs and the sound of the door slamming open snapped him out of his bliss. A growl erupted from his throat. He had no time for such disturbances.

Jack did not even have time to decide on what to do when the ear-piercing war cry suddenly echoed through the room. Before he could process what had happened, a kitchen knife had plunged its way into his cold, unbeating heart. The demon tilted his head, his eyeless sockets meeting her gaze. He did not need a sense of vision to feel the vigorous spark in her eyes.

There were no tears. Just screams, cries of anger, and the aggressive stabbing motions as the girl rammed the blade into his body, over and over and over. Meanwhile Jack just waited, taking in her presence. That sweet scent had not been from the girl he had just killed. It came from this one. He could almost taste it, the scent of her adrenaline mixed with the sweet scent her body naturally gave off. 

The phenomenon intrigued him. He had been attacked before. But the wrath radiating from this girl... he had not seen anything like it before. She could not have been older than 25, he mused, as he felt the knife tear the flesh of his stomach. Was this a family member he had killed? A friend? ... Girlfriend?

It mattered not. Anger had overtaken her, and she did not seem to realize it took more than a kitchen knife to kill a demonic entity. He let rip into his flesh like tissue paper for a bit longer, before roughly grabbing her wrist midair.

She tried to rip away from him, but his grip tightened, making her growl in frustration and pain. She should count herself lucky. If it had been anyone more... disposable, Jack would have crunched the fragile bones just with his tightening grip.

The girl did not have time to protest further. Jack gripped her hair with his other hand roughly, forcing her to reveal the fragile skin of her neck to him. No seconds were wasted as Jack plunged forwards, digging his sharp canines into the flesh.

He could feel her body freeze beneath his as she just gripped his shoulder tightly, sharp breaths leaving her nose. Clever girl. His fangs were mere inches away from scraping her carotid artery. A wrong move, and she would be the cause of her own death.

The taste was so sweet. So satisfying. Part of Jack just wanted to rip into her and indulge in her tastes all night long. But hesitance gnawed at the back of his mind, keeping him from ripping her throat out.

His life had been so... eventless, as of late. The days went by at a slow rate, and all Jack could do was wait for them to pass. And although his patience was saintly, the lack of interest and excitement even got to him, at some point.

Usually the humans of this town provided him nothing but nourishment, a good meal, his only solace in his cursed, uneventful existence. But this girl... she truly was an interesting specimen. The fighting spirit of a lioness, no fear of him or the death he brought with him, her intellect and awareness despite the wrath coursing through her veins.

It would be a waste to kill her.

Slowly, his fangs popped off her neck, and he heard the girl suck in a breath of air. She rubbed her throat, gaze spitting fire as she looked at him, no doubt calculating in her mind on how to kill him. Jack’s lips, gray skin stained red, curled into a wide smile, displaying the sharp rows of teeth behind them. The girl merely spat in his face. She truly was something, hm?

His hand was wrapped around her neck before she could react. The sounds of her gasping for air, desperate to fill her lungs... it was all delicious to the demon. Slowly, he felt her kicks and punches weaken, until her body was limp in his grip. Not dead, of course, but no doubt purple in the face and passed out.

Yet again, Jack thought back on her wrath, as he slung her limp body over his shoulder. Those screams of anger, the force with which she tried to kill him... truly fascinating. He wanted to see more of it. Needed to taste it at its fullest. Watch as it fought against the restraints he’d put her in. Face the isolation he’d put her through. Watch as her spirit slowly faded, breaking into a million pieces.

Jack, for one, could not wait to destroy it and watch it die a miserable death.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 1 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: hey everyone! no ur not getting deja vu, i’m reposting what i have of this fic again just with a few necessary adjustments if u kwam. rip all my notes and lovely comments as i’m going to have chapter 1 deleted after this for obvious reasons, so feel free to still leave me some luv bc i’m ngl, re-jigging two fics is taking it out of me asdfghjklkjhgfds. without further ado may i now present to you strictly au 2: electric boogaloo xo

(this one goes out to the anon who wanted radio 1 DJ Heidi Nina Closet xo)

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

8th August 2020

Political correctness gone mad. Or at least, that’s what all the straight, white, 50 year old men have been tweeting. But the TV bosses thought that a same-sex version of the nation’s favourite dancing show would pull the viewers in, at least get some hype going like the good old days. The show’s been going since 2004, Vanessa thinks, as she rolls her neck and looks at the various alleged celebrities opposite them. This is what caused the death of the X Factor, all these sensationalist spin-offs, and now they’re doing the same with this one. She supposes the BBC were intimidated by Dancing on Ice, who had a single solitary same-sex couple on their show and were called out live by H from Steps. How humiliating. She’s only been part of the show for two years; this is her third, but her first one with a partner. She scans her eyes back down the line again, her gaze interrupted as Akeria whispers to her.

“Who you gunning for? I like that goddess, third from the right. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin. Shit, our babies would be beautiful.”

Vanessa pauses, looks at who Akeria’s talking about and snorts a laugh. “Keeks, that’s Asia O'Hara. The chef? She’s been on Saturday Kitchen a couple times.”

“You actually watch that shit?” Akeria side-eyed her.

“Hey, drop the judgemental tone, bitch! It’s easy, chilled-out Saturday morning viewing. Anyway, chefs? Nah. Two left feet and they stomp their way across the dancefloor.”

“It ain’t the dancefloor I’m worried about. I’m more interested in what’s going on in the bedroom,” Akeria wiggles her eyebrows, making Vanessa snort a laugh. Seeing her friend’s expression of disbelief, Akeria rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, Vanj. You telling me you never thought about it? A lil’ steamy affair? Get the Daily Mail’s tongues wagging?”

“Shut the hell up. You’re awful,” Vanessa laughs long-sufferingly in reply, casts her eyes back down the line of celebrities. Scarlet Envy is at the top- Vanessa knows her, she’s in one of the big soap operas. She’s talking quite earnestly to Yvie Oddly. Vanessa is aware of Yvie only because her niece is obsessed with her Youtube channel. What is it she does again? Gaming walkthroughs? She can’t remember. There’s a tall newsreader with dark hair that Vanessa doesn’t remember the name of but she knows that Jan’s eyeing her up from across the room, so even if she ends up being half-decent and Vanessa gets on well with her Jan will still cut her to make sure she ends up with her as a partner. There’s a black girl with a mane of dark hair and a gap tooth chatting to a blonde woman with glittery makeup, some pretty girls that must be influencers or makeup artists or something (in fact, Vanessa definitely recognises one from Love Island), and Monet X Change. Vanessa definitely knows her, and she’s quite surprised the show managed to net Monet given that most of the singers that appear on the show are usually washed up talent show rejects. Vanessa’s seen some clips of her touring, she knows she’s a good dancer. Maybe she’d be good.

Vanessa takes one final sweep down the line as she sees the producers readying themselves to begin. One, two, three, four…hang on. There’s only eleven celebrities, and unless she’s suddenly lost the ability to count Vanessa knows there’s twelve dancers. Maybe they were going to be more cutthroat than she thought, maybe this would be where they decide which dancers they’re giving partners to and which one they’re cutting. Vanessa nervously shifts in her character shoes as the producers begin their welcome.

As they’re talking, the huge rehearsal room doors burst open and a tall blonde comes rushing through them, dressed in white trainers, a baggy white gym top, and black Nike leggings. She looks on her way to be sweating half of her perfectly made up face off as she runs over to join the other celebrities, sweeping her long, curling-ironed hair up into a bun and apologising frantically as she does so.

“Kiki,” Vanessa whispers to her friend. “Who’s that?”

She feels Akeria shrug beside her. Luckily Monique is standing by her right side and has heard her question.

“Oh, bitch! That’s Brooke Lynn. She presents stuff.”

“What the fuck’s stuff?” Vanessa laughs quietly, not wanting to incur the wrath of the producers by talking over them.

“She did, uh…The Voice. An’ she did some kind of consumer show in the evenings. She does The One Show now. Bunch of boring ass shit, basically,” Monique waves a hand dismissively towards the end, gets distracted by a wink and a small wave across the room from Monet X Change.

“Damn. So they give her all the boring shows to present because they know people will tune in ‘cause she’s hot?” Vanessa muses. It’s just a fact, after all. She’s not been able to tear her eyes away from her since she rushed into the room. Vanessa hopes she’s a good dancer.

“Oop. Here we go already. The Strictly curse claims its first victim,” Akeria overhears her, sticks her tongue out at her as Vanessa bats her on the arm. The sudden movement causes one of the producers to whip round and glare at Vanessa and she immediately drops her arm and fixes him with an easy smile.

When she looks back at Brooke Lynn, she’s hiding her mouth with her hand and her eyes are twinkling at her in a laugh. Vanessa presses her lips together to keep from smiling back.

They all warm up together, even though Vanessa’s already warmed up, but it’s a good chance to see who has potential and who looks more like an octopus out of water with half its limbs cut off. She scans the mirrored wall as she rolls her shoulders in time with the EDM that’s blasting from the speakers. The blonde influencer-looking girl is fucked from the start, Vanessa notes. She’s rolling her shoulders both the wrong way and off-beat. One of the celebrities, the pouty one from Love Island, is already complaining that she’s pulled a muscle. Vanessa makes the executive decision that if she gets partnered up with her then she’s quitting the show and also possibly going on a killing spree in Elstree Studios.

Brooke Lynn hasn’t met her eyes since they caught each others’ earlier. She’s not being weird, it’s just an observation. Vanessa’s, however, have drifted her way a couple of times. Brooke seems to be sailing through the warmup that Jaida’s leading easily, and Vanessa notes how easily she’s managing the split stretches, how she can bend her body almost in half until her head touches the floor. She’s clearly had some sort of dance training before, and Vanessa thinks her good looks would just be a bonus of being partnered with her. She sweeps her gaze across the room again as she stretches out her other leg, her gaze landing on Yvie. She’s bendy, her forehead pressed to the floor as she stretches out and giggles at Scarlet beside her whose body appears to be made almost entirely of cardboard. Vanessa stifles a giggle herself as Jaida starts leading them in squats, hears Monique muttering something to her as she drops to the floor. Vanessa fixes her with a confused face.

“Think you’ve got an admirer,” Monique repeats a little louder, raising her eyebrows and jerking her head behind them to where the celebrities warmed up. Vanessa brings herself up out of the squat, whips her head round to see Brooke looking right at her.

Or rather, her ass.

As Brooke suddenly looks at about six different places in the room in the space of a second and her face turns roughly the same colour as a fire engine, Vanessa turns her head back round, trying to ignore the heat she can feel attacking her own face.

It’s kind of ironic that every year at least one couple is claimed by the Strictly curse and yet the producers still call the process of finding a potential partner “Speed Dating”. The curse is a phenomenon that Vanessa has felt the brunt of and knows all too well- a partner and a contestant, almost every year, end up either falling for each other or falling into bed with each other. It’s natural, she supposes- you can’t spend practically every waking moment of every day pressed up against someone else and not trip and fall onto their dick. However, this is a room full of girls, at least half of whom Vanessa knows are gay as all hell, and maybe this year there’ll be a bit more nuance and obliviousness and just general all-round idiocy.

Looking at the celebrities, she sees Scarlet joke-grinding against Yvie, both of them almost falling over laughing. Maybe everyone will be a little less oblivious than Vanessa has given them credit for.

One of the producers launches into a spiel about how the pairing up process will work. Everyone knows they won’t get properly paired up until the launch show, but this will be more of a chemistry test than a dancing test, he explains, to see who gets on with each other best. Then at the end, all of them will get to write down their top three potential partners.

“After all,” he laughs, “You’re going to be spending a long time together!”

There’s a polite bubble of laughter that pops in the room, and Vanessa feels her stomach explode suddenly with butterflies. What if she gets paired up with someone she doesn’t get on well with at all, never mind someone who can dance? Her mind drifts. Phi Phi’s standing beside her, her face set in a small frown. Vanessa whispers to her.

“Who you got your eyes on?”

Phi Phi doesn’t shift her gaze, and Vanessa follows it. Her gaze lands on the woman with the glittery makeup who’s laughing like a seal at something that gap tooth girl has said and isn’t paying any attention to what the producers are saying. “Anyone with a pulse who’s taking the competition seriously. I know who I don’t want, put it that way.”

Vanessa indulges her in a laugh. Phi Phi has reached the semi-final four times and has never advanced further, and her frustration is starting to show. Vanessa supposes she’s at an advantage here- she’s fresh on the show, she doesn’t have any chips on her shoulder. As she looks around the room, she can see each of the dancers’ past experiences reflected on their faces like battle scars: four-time World Championship finalist Courtney is smiling easily, happy in the knowledge that she won last year and will probably get a dud partner this year, Shea, former West End Choreographer who could literally get given Theresa May and still manage to advance to the finals has a calm exterior, and frowning determinedly is 2018 Latin European champion Vixen, who bowed out early last year with her partner and has expressed very openly and very loudly to everyone who’ll hear her that she’s going for the glitterball this year. In a similar boat is World Cup Freestyle Latin Champion Aja, who was up against Courtney in the finals last year and lost by only a tiny margin of the vote. The girl doesn’t seem bitter, but she’s already got her eyes trained on Monet and has clearly backed her winner already. Crystal is lost in a daydream, classic. To the untrained eye the girl may look as if she couldn’t even do the macarena in time, but the girls know better. Crystal is hard-working, determined, creative, clever, and one of the highest-ranking ballroom and Latin dancers in the country. Vanessa knows that whoever she gets as a partner she’ll be able to mold into something amazing.

Vanessa’s gaze then lands on Plastique. The girl is a fierce dancer and it’s her fifth year on the show already. If she’s nervous, she doesn’t show it. Then again, she trained under Alyssa Edwards so she’s very possibly not felt butterflies in her stomach since the year 2012. Vanessa’s eyes widen a bit as she notices Plastique eyeing up Brooke. She’s going to need to turn up the charm all the way to 100, as Plastique’s reputation precedes her and she’ll be top choice for a lot of the girls opposite.

One by one, the dancers introduce themselves. Vanessa keeps her introduction short and sweet. She doesn’t like to brag about her titles unlike some of the other girls, and she knows that her achievements are outshone by many so she focuses on the fact it’s her first year with a partner instead.

“I ain’t got a track record like Courtney, but I also ain’t got one like Monique either,” Vanessa jokes, her friend nudging her and shouting in protest as the other girls laugh. Monique takes it in good humour though- she’s been an early out for a few years in a row having kept landing Olympic sportsmen with limbs like toy soldiers, so it’s a fair enough comment. Vanessa continues, trying not to let her eyes land on Brooke all that much. “So whoever gets paired with me don’t need to be worried ‘cuz they’re gonna always end up being special to me. My first partner on the show, and the first person I get to experience it with. And I’d be happy to get any of you, because you all look nice and smiley an’ friendly!”

She adds in that last bit to come across as gracious, and it seems to work as the celebrities opposite all smile at her gently and she hears a couple of “aaw!”s thrown her way. She can practically feel Phi Phi, Aja and Vixen all roll their eyes at her, but she doesn’t care. It’s a point in her favour with the girls opposite at least.

After the professionals have all said their piece, the celebrities pipe up. To give them their dues, there are quite a few that Vanessa would be glad to be partnered up with. Peppermint, a TV journalist, seems like she’d be great to gossip with if nothing else, Gigi, the once so intimidating-looking model has got a goofy side that would keep Vanessa sane in rehearsals, and Instagram influencer Blair seems similarly sweet and is so eager to please that it almost hurts. Then Brooke steps forward, her expression the serene calm of a woman who’s used to speaking in front of an audience, and all Vanessa can think about is how much of a point that confident, in-control body language would be in their favour when they took to the floor in week one.

No, not when. If. She’s getting ahead of herself.

“Hey everyone! I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes, uh, I present stuff. I’m basically like Ant and Dec but without the loveable double-act element and the millions of national TV awards clogging up my trophy cabinets and gathering dust.”

Vanessa lets out a snort. The actual joke isn’t even that funny, but Brooke’s delivery was so deadpan and matter of fact that it made the whole thing ten times more hilarious. Akeria turns to face Vanessa, raises her eyebrows and hisses over to her.

“Girl. Any further up her ass and your new nickname is gonna be suppository for the rest of the season.”

“Uh, dance-experience-wise I actually have a fair bit. I did exams and dance shows in high school. I don’t know if I should’ve mentioned that, now you’re all gonna be fighting over me like a pack of zombies,” Brooke laughs. The other girls join in with the laughter and Vanessa shifts from foot to foot. Brooke doesn’t know how accurate she’s just been. Oblivious, she carries on. “So yeah! Good luck to us all. Please don’t tear me limb from limb.”

Another laugh that Vanessa joins in weakly with. Unsurprisingly, Brooke introducing herself to the room has done nothing for Vanessa’s nerves. She has a favourite now, but it’s akin to putting money on a greyhound race- it’s a complete gamble. She tells herself that she can’t pin her hopes on getting partnered with Brooke, even though that thought is a bit like locking a stable door after the pony’s bolted, or whatever the goddamn figure of speech is. As gap-in-teeth-girl who’s standing beside Brooke begins to introduce herself (Heidi’s a Radio 1 DJ, and that explains why her voice sounds so familiar) Vanessa jumps a little as she hears Monique whisper to her out of nowhere.

“Girl, Jesus. Dare you to be less obvious.”

Vanessa narrows her eyes at her as she turns her head. “What?”

“Brooke Lynn,” Monique cocks her head towards the girl in question. Vanessa keeps her gaze steely. “Put your tongue back in your mouth, sis.”

“Oh, like you’ve not got a favourite already,” Vanessa whispers back. She’s got the Monet card she can use if she wants to.

“You know you don’t have to take that partner thing literally, right? You don’t actually have to fuck the person you get matched with,” Monique shoots back, pressing her lips together to stop herself from laughing. Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous. She’s got dance experience, the height difference is good, I could win with her. There’s nothing more to it than that. I’d be happy with any of these bitches.”

Monique raises her eyebrows. “You’re not tryin’ to be Miss World, Vanj, it’s okay to say you wouldn’t kick her outta bed.”

“Okay, so what about Monet? I’m sure the reason that you keep lookin’ all the way down that end of the room is definitely…shit, I don’t know…some sort of eye condition?” Vanessa uses her trump card, smiles and sticks her tongue out at Monique who gives her a little shove and clamps her mouth shut in a pout, knowing she’s been outmanoeuvred. Vanessa tunes back in to the introductions. The Love Island girl introduces herself as Farrah, and she’s pouting and asking the pros not to work her too hard. Vanessa thinks back to what Phi Phi had said. She’ll give the girl some credit. Maybe Vanessa should focus more on who she doesn’t want after all.

The producers start leading girls from their side of the room to the middle so that they form two big vertical lines in front of each other. Vanessa starts in front of Blair, who smiles kindly at her and appears too shy to speak. There’s no time for Vanessa to really attempt to strike up a conversation as they’re all getting shuffled around based on their heights. She watches as Brooke gets moved from in front of Aja, past Shea, past Crystal, and finally given to Jan.

Fuck.

Vanessa shakes the disappointment off. She’s being ridiculous, she knows she’ll get a turn with mostly everyone and the fact that Brooke’s tall, statuesque frame contrasts with her pint-sized self means that she’s a dead cert to get a shot at dancing with her. There’s not many people smaller than her so she knows she’s not going to be leading. This is good, as she’s obviously not used to it. The girls paired up with the smaller celebrities are going to have to work twice as hard.

Blair gets shuffled around to be partnered with Aja, and eventually Vanessa gets Gigi deposited in front of her. She gives her a friendly wave and a pleasant smile, and eventually everyone is paired up- for now. Vanessa looks over at Akeria, notices she’s been given Asia to dance with first. Akeria meets her gaze and gives her a smile that Vanessa doesn’t think she’s going to be able to wipe off her face until mid-June of next year.

As the producers give the girls some time to teach the celebrities an incredibly basic salsa step to start them off with, Vanessa relaxes as she begins talking Gigi through the steps. She’s glad she’s finally getting to do what she loves instead of being consumed by nerves and what-ifs. She knows how to dance and she’s good at it- it’s just a fact- and she knows she’s able to teach things, having helped out with the kids at her dance school when she was younger. To her delight Gigi picks things up quickly, and the two of them are simply dancing the same four basic moves in a loop as they move on to chatting.

“You’re a good teacher! It’s taking some of these other bitches ages,” Gigi laughs, Vanessa giving a guilty giggle at the comment as she notices Jadia, very patiently and very deliberately, walking Scarlet through the steps again.

“See, you wouldn’t think I never had a partner before!” Vanessa beams back at her, twirling around and landing back in Gigi’s hold. To some of the girls it might be a little awkward trying to make small-talk with someone they’ve just met whilst holding one of their hands and having another pressed to their back, but to Vanessa it comes naturally. She notices that Gigi is scanning the room and looking at the other girls. Vanessa knows a searching pair of eyes when she sees one. “You got your eye on a girl?”

“Well, you’d be good,” Gigi says immediately, although how much of that is out of courtesy Vanessa doesn’t know. “Or, I mean. Jaida’s a fierce teacher, and she’s won it before, right?”

Vanessa nods. She knows that Gigi is still holding back the namedrop of the girl she really wants. “But I guess, you know, Crystal’s a talent. It kind of seems like everyone sleeps on her despite the fact she’s got all these trophies and ranks so highly and she does ballroom and Latin. She ever won before?”

“Not yet. She got paired with some stompy politician last year and was an early out, but she made the semis before that,” Vanessa indulges her, although she’s quite sure that judging by the slight blush on Gigi’s face that she’s well aware of where Crystal’s ranked in previous seasons. Gigi seems nice, and she’s complimented Vanessa so she decides to throw one her way too. “You’ve got potential, you could take her to the finals easily. She could do a lot with you.”

“That’s sweet. Thanks,” Gigi smiles, Vanessa giving another twirl just as the producers get everyone to stop and switch round again. Time passes by in steps and twirls rather than minutes, but the variety of people she gets paired with ensures that things don’t become boring. Vanessa gets Scarlet, who steps on her toes about three times and, in her own words, dances like an inflatable waving tube man stuck outside a car showroom, then actress Willam, the one with the laugh like a seal and sparkly makeup and scant regard for the moves she’s been taught, preferring to make Vanessa laugh the whole time. After that she is paired with Jackie, the newsreader she’d noticed earlier. She shows promise but Vanessa does notice Jan’s head bobbing about looking at them from the other side of the room the whole time they’re together like an invasive meerkat so Vanessa does her a solid and talks Jan up a storm. She can’t really focus too much on Jackie, to be fair, because Plastique’s been partnered with Brooke and the two of them are already laughing and hitting it off with each other and Vanessa feels her blood fizz with determination.

Finally, mercifully, Brooke gets led down by one of the producers to stand in front of her, and for a moment Vanessa is tongue-tied. Brooke’s dark green eyes and her gorgeous face are a little intimidating, not that she’s got a crush or anything, and Vanessa feels herself growing shy for a second. But then she remembers that they only have minutes together, and if she wants to be partnered with this girl she’s going to have to up the charm offensive. The producers have been stalking the room like lions with notebooks, recording every laugh and lingering glance.

“Hey!” Vanessa starts cheerfully, fixing Brooke with the winning smile she always used to flash at the judges when she was competing. “I’m Vanjie. Well, Vanessa. Either. Is fine.”

Brooke smiles back at her despite the fact that her introduction was so awkward Vanessa feels like digging a hole in the ground and leaping into it. “Nice to meet you, Vanjie-Well-Vanessa. I’m Brooke Lynn.“

Before Vanessa can feel any more embarrassed at Brooke’s teasing, she takes a little bow and stands ready, her hand held out for her to take. "May I have this dance?”

Vanessa lets out a laugh at the cheesiness of it all, takes Brooke’s hand and stands in hold with her. Their hands seem to fit perfectly together and even though their bodies are still quite far apart Brooke’s hand on her back makes Vanessa feel close to her in a way she’s not felt dancing with any man before.

Monique’s teasing face appears in her mind and Vanessa shakes those particular thoughts away.

“I bet you said that to all these girls,” Vanessa quirks an eyebrow at her, and Brooke tilts her head to the ceiling in thought.

“Uh…no, don’t think so. Just you so far,” she shrugs, and it definitely doesn’t make Vanessa feel special in any way at all.

They start to step and oh shit. This is exciting. This is the first girl that’s properly led her, the first one that the moves have seemed to come so easily to, and Vanessa can feel her heart going like a train as she imagines what she could actually choreograph with a girl like Brooke to work with. She’s a bit quiet as she’s lost in thought, so she cracks an impressed face at the girl opposite her.

“You’re good.”

“Yeah, so are you,” Brooke looks at her a little funny, her face inquisitive. “Hey, how come you didn’t mention any of your accolades? Y'know. World Latin Champion 2016, four-time finalist. That’s a bragging right.”

Vanessa almost loses her steps she’s so shocked. How the fuck does Brooke know about all that? She’s not mentioned it. Brooke can clearly see the shock on her face and a blush hits her cheeks. “That probably sounds weird. I looked you up when I knew I was coming on the show.”

Vanessa laughs, pulls a face at Brooke. “Nah, that sounds even more weird. You’re just digging yourself a hole now.”

Brooke gives an embarrassed giggle, looks up at the sky to avoid Vanessa’s gaze and oh fuck she’s still moving perfectly and she’s not got her eyes trained on her feet holy shit. “No, I mean I looked all the girls up!”

Vanessa bursts out laughing again. The girl’s not helping her case. “Dig, dig, dig, bitch!”

Brooke squeals in protest as Vanessa feels her smile hurt her face. “You know what I mean! Ugh, God. Just answer the question and stop picking on me. I’m a very important celebrity. Don’t you know who I am?”

Brooke’s deadpan sort of humour is killing Vanessa. She tries to get out another jibe through her laugh. “Jesus, I hope that’s not how you normally interview people.”

There’s a pause as Brooke laughs back. Vanessa thinks over her question. “I don’t know. Guess I just didn’t want to come across like a showoff.”

“But it’s just a fact. You’re good,” Brooke shrugs. The praise makes Vanessa’s heart light up.

“An’ I guess I didn’t want the same as you. People fightin’ over me,” she shrugs back, making light of Brooke’s compliment. Brooke pulls a face.

“I don’t know about that, I think I’m going to have to fight off a couple of these girls if I want you,” she comments offhandedly, Vanessa suddenly feeling like she’d been shocked with a tazer. She’d been so focused on trying to charm the partner she wanted that she had no idea the celebrities would’ve been gunning for her too.

“Who wants to be partnered with me?” she asks, thinking retrospectively that she could’ve tried to appear a little less keen.

“Well, Asia’s making a bee-line, I know that much. And Willam was all smiles after she left you. And, I mean, I wouldn’t mind getting you either,” Brooke says, her last comment making Vanessa happier than it should.

“Wouldn’t mind? You’re gonna have to work harder than that,” Vanessa raises her eyebrows, faux-unimpressed. She has to slam her mouth shut at the end of her sentence to avoid tacking on a “baby” to the end of it. Jesus, what is wrong with her?

“You know they give us that card at the end where we write our top three partner choices on it,” Brooke continues. The fact she is trying so hard to come across as nonchalant is making her seem everything but, and Vanessa is loving it. “Hypothetically…would I be on yours?”

“Hypothetically? You might be,” Vanessa grins at her, spins round and misses the look that Brooke gives back at her. Is this flirting? She needs to stop.

“And, uh, hypothetically, of course, would I be first, second or third on that list?”

Vanessa looks to the ceiling, maintains the charade of not appearing overly keen. “At the moment, you are…third.”

Brooke’s face is so actively shocked that Vanessa bursts out laughing. “Third?! You bitch! Why?”

Vanessa composes herself. “Well first of all, I don’t know where you’re putting me on this list, girl, so I gotta hedge my bets. Second, I’m still trying to recover from wouldn’t mind, so that knocks you down a place. Also you just called me a bitch, so you’re now reserve-third.”

“If I told you you were first on my list, does that move me up a place?” Brooke smiles at her cheekily. Vanessa tries to keep a calm exterior and not show Brooke that she’s maybe-sort-of-a-little-bit melting at her words.

“You could. How do I know you’re telling the truth, though?”

Brooke shrugs a little. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

With that, Vanessa feels Brooke’s hand being ripped out of her own and coming to rest in between her shoulder blades, and suddenly she’s being dipped to the ground and brought back up again. She ends up pressed up against Brooke’s chest, her face tilted up to meet hers and her lips way too close to be good for Vanessa’s heart rate. She hears an impressed cry from someone- probably Monique or Akeria stirring the pot- and there’s a kind of hush that falls over the room in response to the move that’s a little bit more advanced than anyone was expecting.

“O-kay!” a producer exclaims, and Vanessa melts out of hold, only a little bit captivated. “If we could all switch round again, uh, I think we’ll have Aja with…Farrah-”

Brooke gives her a wink and a smile as she walks away towards Courtney who she’s been paired with next, and Vanessa attempts to compose herself as she gives a little wave back and tries to focus on Monet who she’s now in front of.

If things all ended up the way she wanted them to, this was going to be a very interesting season.

[daisychvins]

｡･ﾟﾟ･ — introduction.

introducing ... violet’s demise ! aka grayson aka her big brother she’s been wiring money to stay away in europe <33333

name: grayson swag money jeon  age: 22 turning 23 (don’t ask me about his sign that’s for liza to figure out someday <3) gender: cis male; he/him hometown: baltimore, maryland sexuality: bisexual & biromantic

listen i was feeling rlly committed to completing his stats but i’m already over it so don’t ask dont tell xx anYWAYS let’s get on to the juicy stuff hehe

i tend to ramble a lot so this intro is gonna be probably a mixture of paragraphs and bullet points and everything in between but let’s start simple. also i rlly wanna emphasize a massive DRUGS TW bc his character largely revolves around his interest in and addiction to drugs

blackmails

grayson is claiming that he's been in a rehab program for the last year and is now completely sober and reformed when he really was just using the money to party and travel throughout europe.

without his parents paying to support him now, he's had to start dealing to make ends meet and keep up appearances. it’s mostly coke, but he dabbles in harder substances depending on what his connections can get him. 

grayson dabbles with calligraphy and was notorious for forging excuse notes and parent signatures all throughout high school and even now sells forgeries for a quick buck. the most notable of these was xavi’s letter of recommendation that helped him get into yale. 

background

grayson is violet’s older brother!!1 yes, that’s right, THE big brother who’s been out of the country getting LIT (and by lit i mean he’s been traveling europe on a series of solo trips w his parents’ money and doin lots of recreational drugs)

i haven’t fully fleshed out the dynamic he has w his parents but just know it’s ,, bad ASDHFJNK basically the jeons treated their children like accessories and expected them to be their little trophies and grayson just was not having that as a kid!!! so he acted out a lot and obviously got himself into a pretty bad scene (thank u goosie) and is basically the bane of his parents existence at this point <3 yet they still try to appease him to keep him under control but that’s for the family task to work out hehehehe

despite hating his parents, he adores both of his siblings. before the drug use started, he was always a big nurturer and would have done anything for either of them......now he wouldn’t be caught dead praising violet but he loves her in secret from afar HSJDFKG

yeah basically he met goose when he was around 15 i think????? and got introduced to drugs around 16 or 17 i wanna say and by the time he graduated high school he was just....a much different person than the soft big brother he used to be. his parents sent him off to europe pretty much as soon as he turned 18 under the guise of going to school internationally, but grayson obviously knew the truth and understood that he was being sent away so he wouldn’t be his parents problem anymore. 

he basically spent the last four years galavanting europe and just....trying to enjoy it???? but it’s hard to enjoy an extended vacation when u have no family or friends on ur side anymore </3 he basically used the money to stay in hostels and worked odd jobs here and there to stay afloat and keep supplied w the...special goods....but yeah lots of drugs, alcohol, sex, and recklessness but he DID learn a couple languages??? or at least enough to get through some pretty basic conversations in most european countries so <3 guess it’s all okay then!!!! 

anyways idk what else to put here that u won’t just find out in the family task so uhhhhhh idk lmk if u need anything else i guess

present/personality

so now grayson is just vibing at yale obviously ummm he actually got super into writing after high school, especially poetry. he used to carry journals full of just random prose about his addiction and his deepest thoughts, as well as probably some lighter stuff about his love escapades or maybe goose idk...basically he used poetry as an outlet and it allowed him to really ground himself and find his place in the world even if it didnt include who he thought it would SO with that being said, grayson got into yale due to a poetry competition he was a part of. he saw some big fancy competition being advertised and on a whim decided to submit some poem about his struggles with addiction and losing his family (a v raw piece that he didn’t expect to ever see the light of day) and he actually ended up winning! it caught yale’s attention and they invited him to apply and, knowing how much it would probably disturb his little sister, grayson very smugly applied and was pretty stoked to see he got in 

because that poem gained such publicity, it was assumed that he was a survivor of addiction and was writing from a sober perspective. he didn’t want to correct anyone, so he just went with it and has basically crafted this story about his massive success and has become an advocate for addiction treatment and rehabilitation. of course, none of the companies that sponsor him or the events that host him as a motivational speaker know that he’s snorting lines in the bathroom beforehand or dealing to half the elites, but that’s between grayson, god, and the blackmailer !

basically grayson showed back up because of violet’s blackmail being exposed. he was off in europe, unable to defend himself, and with a massive vendetta against his family so he decided what better way to reenter society than by publicly outing himself as a martyr <3333 his plan is basically to bash the family name to fulfill whatever angsty coming of age arc he has in store for him to make up for the pain of being sent away .... really angsty yeah </3 rip grayson 

anyways yeah he’s a total fake. he’s been using his status as a martyr to his advantage a lot, the best example being his recruitment into the elites. he guilted them into accepting him by discussing the PR benefits of recruiting a member that struggles with addiction and how supporting addiction treatment and second chances would be such a good look for them. like he basically threatened to publicly expose them for denying him due to his troubled past and accuse them of being exclusionary so they said boop ! ur in. now the elites are proud advocates for second chances <3333

i would describe grayson as fearless, overconfident, infamous due to his condition being exposed recently, a little gloomy, he’s kind of just got this chip on his shoulder and feels like he has something to prove....he’s gotta be better than his parents, gotta stick it to them and to violet and to everyone who doubts him. he’s a grumpy guy with a massive vendetta and a need for some kind of justice. he just doesn’t know what that is yet. despite all of the bad, however, he’s genuinely a pretty good guy. he’s really goofy and a genuine person, pretty friendly with literally everyone until they give him a reason not to be. basically, unless you are a member of the jeon family he probably likes you or is at least cordial to you (unless we plot differently ofc but u know). he’s just a big lovable dummy with some sweet drug connects and a knack for poetry. he also knows calligraphy but that’s beside the point . 

idk if this is enough to describe him but yeah if u have any questions just let me know hehe

this is probably gonna make things hard but considering violet was just exposed i think that he’s pretty new to yale ???? like probably just transferred in/started this spring semester rather than being here for the entire year/a prolonged amount of time so most of our plots will likely have to be newer/center on him first showing up OR we can establish their connections from pre-europe which is also fine w me....idk i didnt rlly think this timeline through so let’s just plot and see what happens aghbfjnd anyways i included some connection ideas to help us all just in case

wanted connections

i’d say he’s the honorary dealer of the elites aghbdfjn so literally anyone who needs a plug could be a potential connection. we can obviously tweak this and customize it to each character <3

maybe someone who met grayson in europe. they could have travelled together for an extended period of time or even just a brief encounter. he was over there for four years, so the possibilities are endless. 

building off the last one, this same connection could work with a romantic interest. maybe they were romantically involved for a time in europe and fell out of touch or maybe grayson/your muse just left in the middle of the night and they never saw each other again until now and maybe there’s some unresolved feelings/one-sided longing or need for closure. it could also be that they just hooked up whenever this person was in the area and that was that, no strings attached. 

maybe someone who genuinely believes that grayson is actually sober and really admires his strength and idk maybe they’re struggling w their own issues and seek advice from him or maybe they just make it harder for him to actually do his thing bc they’re constantly around and it’s not like they can catch him strung out and acting up 

someone in the literature department or with a background in english or writing. someone he could read poetry to, or share his favorite lines with. someone who’s taken the same professors and can tell him who to watch out for or what to expect. idk i just want him to have someone to share his passions with. maybe a little crush is forming? maybe they’re just friends who share a love of fiction? idk i’m open to literally anything 

he’s sort of a motivational speaker now bc he advocates for rehabilitation resources and stuff so like maybe ur muse saw him give a presentation or participate in some kind of seminar and they called bullshit on him after the show bc they were like,,, bro i literally saw u partying w max and avery last weekend what the fuck are u on about and now they could potentially hold that blackmail over his head hehe......

exes plots are always fun we love angst in this house 

fuck it let’s bring another family member BHJFNGKM no but grayson rlly is a nurturing guy and like....definitely develops unhealthy attachments to cope w his loss of family so he’d love all the sibling-like bonds he can get to kinda numb the pain of “””””losing””””” violet 

if none of these interest you i’m literally so down for anything pls just let me know and i’m happy to brainstorm always <333333 

thank u for reading this....smooch . 

[antiadvil]

i AIM 2 b w/ u

summary: Dan’s life is a little bit of a mess. He met his only friend through a chat website, and Dan doesn’t even know what he looks like. The only person he’s ever come out to is said friend. He’s wasting his gap year away.

But hey, at least there’s that cute boy he met at London Pride.

rating: PG13

wc: 4k

notes: for the @phandomreversebang! lovely art created by @anironsidh and betaing provided by @quackitity (also stay tuned for @judearaya‘s version which i betaed and is very good)

read on ao3 or under the cut

Dan glanced at the time. He had a few minutes to kill before he had to catch his train to London Pride, he decided, so he logged into his laptop and opened AIM.

His heart skipped a beat. His best (and only, if he was being honest) friend was online. He sent him a message.

danisnotonfire: hey

amazingphil: hi!!!

He and Amazingphil had met in a chat room about five months ago. They bonded a bit over their sexualities, and then Dan sent him a PM about Muse, and then here they were, still messaging almost every day since.

amazingphil: what r u doing?

danisnotonfire: im never doing anything

amazingphil: lol

amazingphil: yes u r >.<

amazingphil: guess what im doing

danisnotonfire: what

amazingphil: guess >:(

danisnotonfire: no >:)

amazingphil: pls

danisnotonfire: hmm

danisnotonfire: maybe

amazingphil: hurry up

danisnotonfire: wait im thinking of a good one

danisnotonfire: ok

danisnotonfire: ur running away from the police bc u stole the crown jewels

amazingphil: no u spork

amazingphil: im picking out an outfit

danisnotonfire: an outfit? :0

danisnotonfire: u wear clothes?

amazingphil: i hate u

amazingphil: i have Plans today

Dan glanced at the clock. He had to leave soon for his own plans, but he still felt a tiny bit jealous.

danisnotonfire: you have Plans?

amazingphil: yes

amazingphil: what r u doing?

Dan checked the time again. He frowned. He had to leave now if he wanted to make his train.

danisnotonfire: getting ready to take a train

danisnotonfire: g2g actually sry

danisnotonfire: c u?

He didn’t wait to see amazingphil’s response before he closed his laptop and bolted for the door.

The train ride to London was nerve wracking but uneventful. Dan had never travelled so far on his own before, and his mother’s warnings rang in his head. As tempted as he was to pull out his phone and pretend to be busy, he kept himself alert, his phone safely stowed in his pocket and his backpack clutched in his lap.

His mother didn’t know where he was going. No one knew where he was going. It was a little bit scary, but also exhilarating. He could do anything; he could be anyone, as long as he was on the 8pm train home.

When his train pulled into the station, it was easy to follow the crowd of people in rainbow apparel to the parade site. Dan’s train had arrived a tiny bit late, and it looked like the parade had already started.

The street was crowded, but Dan wriggled and elbowed his way to the front of the crowd, where he had a decent view of his first ever Pride parade. He found himself sandwiched between two girls holding hands and a dark haired boy who looked about Dan’s age.

“Hey,” Dan found himself shouting to the boy next to him.

The boy glanced over, flicking dark hair out of his eyes. “Hey,” he shouted back. “What brings you here?”

“I’m gay,” Dan shouted. He laughed. It was so exhilarating to say out loud that he said it again. “I’m gay!”

The boy laughed. “Me too,” he said. “What a coincidence.”

“What’s your name?” Dan asked.

“Phil,” the boy replied. “You?”

“Dan,” he said back.

“Well, Dan, is this your first pride?”

Dan nodded. “What about you?”

Phil shook his head. “This is my third.”

“Wow,” Dan said.

Phil laughed. “It’s not that many. I’m sure there are some people here who have been to every single one.” He nodded toward a group of older men riding on a passing float.

Dan tried to wrap his mind around the fact that there had been fewer than forty London Prides. That everything around him was new and fragile and still in its infancy. “That’s crazy,” he said. “That that’s even possible, I mean.”

Phil nodded emphatically. “I know, right? If I had been born just fifty years earlier…” He shuddered.

“It’s not like it’s that great to be gay right now either,” Dan admitted.

“No,” Phil admitted. He looked down.

They were silent for a few moments.

“Sorry,” Dan said, clearing his throat. “I kinda killed the mood there, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil said. He shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the plastic rainbow flag in his hands. “Does your family know you’re here?” he added softly.

Dan shook his head, eyes welling with tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Phil said in a rush, “That was such a personal question, I don’t know why I-”

“It’s okay,” Dan said softly.

Phil hovered awkwardly just at the edge of Dan’s personal space. “Um, do you want a hug or-”

“Yes,” Dan said, immediately crushing himself into Phil’s arms and squeezing his eyes shut.

He resolutely ignored the tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Shh,” Phil said, holding him tighter. “It’s going to be okay.”

Dan didn’t know why he believed everything this beautiful stranger said, but he did.

It was going to be okay. Dan let that message sink into his body, settle in his stomach, until his limbs felt less shaky and his footing more solid. He pulled away from Phil, wiping his eyes.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t know what that was.”

“It’s okay,” Phil said. “It’s your first Pride; it’s overwhelming. Are you from nearby?”

“I’m from near Reading,” Dan said.

Phil whistled. “That’s pretty far.”

Dan shrugged. “No one will recognize me here.”

Phil nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Dan shrugged again. “It’s okay.”

“Well, I hope you have a good time. It’s a lot of fun.”

Dan looked around at everyone wearing various different pride flags, all of the floats covered in rainbow. “I think I will.”

Dan and Phil stayed together for the rest of the parade, bumping shoulders and pointing out people with particularly funny signs. When the last float passed, though, Dan realized he didn’t want to break apart.

He turned to Phil to say so, but before he could open his mouth, Phil interrupted him, looking nervous. “Actually, um, if you don’t have anywhere to be yet, I thought we could hang out for a bit? Get coffee or something?”

Dan had left a few hours after Pride for exploring London, maybe even looking at some colleges so what he told his mum wasn’t a complete lie, but he’d rather spend them with Phil. “I’d love coffee,” he said.

Phil brightened. “There’s a Starbucks really close by. If you like Starbucks?”

“I love Starbucks,” Dan said. He loved anywhere Phil wanted to drink coffee together.

“Perfect,” Phil said, already walking, presumably towards the Starbucks. “My treat.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” Dan scrambled to keep up.

“Please,” Phil said, smiling. “It’s the least I can do.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “In exchange for what?”

“You travelled all the way to London to see me,” Phil smiled.

Dan rolled his eyes even harder. “It wasn’t to see you, dummy-”

Phil gasped in mock betrayal. “It wasn’t?”

“No,” Dan said, “It was to learn and grow as a person, to find myself, to-”

“Shut up,” Phil said, giggling. “Just let me buy you coffee.”

“Fine,” Dan said, pouting.

“Perfect,” Phil said, leading Dan into a Starbucks, “Now come on.”

Dan’s coffee was delicious, but he let it cool in his hands as their conversation went on. He and Phil had a lot in common, and their conversation flowed easily. They both followed a lot of the same online creators, they had similar taste in music, and they had similar senses of humor. They even had nearly matching hairstyles, Phil pointed out with a laugh.

“It’s a cool hairstyle,” Dan said defensively. Phil didn’t need to know that the only way Dan could make it look even slightly good was by straightening it every morning.

“Of course it is,” Phil said. “It’s mine.”

Dan rolled his eyes and lightly shoved Phil.

When Dan finally finished his coffee, he looked at it regretfully. “I guess I should get going.”

Phil hesitated. “I don’t know if you want to go back to my apartment or anything?”

Dan nodded, then looked at his watch. It was getting dark out. “Fuck. I can’t. My train.”

Phil’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Oh. Well, can I walk you to your train at least?”

Dan smiled. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

It was lucky that Phil had offered to walk him, honestly, because Dan was completely turned around. London was one of the most confusing cities he’d ever been in, but Phil seemed to know his way around it like the back of his hand.

“Here you go,” he said, pointing out the train station Dan had arrived at earlier in the day. He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at Dan with an intensity that made him blush. “I don’t want to go,” he admitted.

Phil drew closer, and Dan glanced around nervously. There were a few people around. No one seemed to be paying much attention, but that could change.

Fuck it, Dan decided. It was Pride. If there was ever a day for kissing cute boys in public, it was today. As Phil leaned in closer, Dan closed the gap and pressed their lips together.

It was sweet, shorter than Dan would have liked, but as Phil pulled away Dan noticed a man standing at the other end of the street, glaring. Dan could see Phil looking too.

“How about I just stick with you until your train comes?” Phil said lightly, but Dan could see his eyes still on the man on the other end of the street, who made eye contact for another second before finally turning away.

Dan felt the tension in his shoulders unwind just the slightest bit. “That’d be great,” he said.

Phil hovered protectively by Dan’s side for the next few minutes until his train came. Dan wouldn’t be much good in a fight, and he didn’t get the sense that Phil would be either, but his presence was reassuring. When it was time to say goodbye, Phil opted for a hug.

Dan sank into his arms gratefully. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Of course,” Phil whispered back.

“Stay safe,” Dan whispered.

“I will,” Phil promised, pulling back. “See you?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “I hope so.”

Barely a minute after Dan boarded his train, his phone buzzed.

phil: did u make it?

Dan smiled.

dan: yes

dan: ty 4 coffee btw, it was good

phil: :)

phil: b safe

dan: u 2

He waited a bit with his phone out, wondering if Phil would say anything more, but he didn’t, so Dan closed his phone and put it away. He let his head fall back against his seat and turned to look out the window, watching London pass by until it was left firmly behind him.

***

The first thing Dan did when he got back home was check AIM. Almost as soon as he logged in, he got a message.

amazingphil: ur back!

amazingphil: where were u :0

Dan hesitated. He didn’t know why he felt like lying.

danisnotonfire: i have a life that isnt online u kno

amazingphil: D:

amazingphil: betrayal

Dan didn’t talk much about his offline life with Amazingphil. He knew the basics: Dan was gay, no one knew, everyone still managed to give him shit for it somehow. But he didn’t know where Dan lived, his little brother’s name, or that he had traveled to London today for Pride.

And if he said something about Pride, then he’d be asked how it went. And then he’d have to talk about Phil. And he didn’t want to talk about Phil for some reason.

danisnotonfire: u have a life offline too

danisnotonfire: remember u said u had plans 2day?

amazingphil: :0

amazingphil: i guess i did

danisnotonfire: howd they go?

amazingphil: good :3

danisnotonfire: is that all ur gonna say

amazingphil: yes :P

amazingphil: i need 2 have mystery or ull lose interest

danisnotonfire: :0

danisnotonfire: i would never

amazingphil: good

danisnotonfire: now tell me

amazingphil: no

danisnotonfire: ಠ_ಠ

amazingphil: :D

amazingphil: it wasnt really interesting anyway lolol

amazingphil: i dont wanna bore u

danisnotonfire: impossible

danisnotonfire: u could never bore me D:

amazingphil: i could

amazingphil: law

amazingphil: textbooks

amazingphil: school

amazingphil: math

amazingphil: r u asleep yet

danisnotonfire: (-_-)zzz

amazingphil: c? told u

danisnotonfire: ok ok

danisnotonfire: u win

Dan still wanted to know what Amazingphil had been up to, but Amazingphil didn’t seem like he wanted to tell, so Dan decided to let it drop. He started to type up a question about whether or not Amazingphil had seen a video uploaded by a YouTuber they both followed, but he was interrupted.

amazingphil: im kinda tired actually

amazingphil: i think im going to bed

Dan’s smile dropped. He had been looking forward to talking to Amazingphil.

danisnotonfire: :(

danisnotonfire: good night!

amazingphil: good night!

He went offline. Dan stayed online for a bit longer, but no one else was really there, and none of the chat rooms he normally joined were interesting that night. Eventually, he gave up. He went to bed early too.

***

He woke up the next morning to a string of texts from Phil. He smiled, grabbing his phone and rolling over to read through them.

phil: hey i have some free time this wknd

phil: i could visit maybe?

phil: if ur free 2

Dan smiled harder.

dan: im free :]

dan: idk why u want 2 visit tho theres nothing here

phil: theres u

Dan had to put his phone down for a second to make sure his face did not actually combust from how hot it was getting.

dan: thatd be nice :3 i miss u

phil: lol, we saw each other yesterday

phil: (i miss u 2 :3)

dan: call me? :3

Dan’s phone started ringing immediately. He picked up. “Why would you want to visit Wokingham?” he asked. “London is way cooler.”

“But you’re not in London,” Phil said.

“I can be,” Dan said, his mind already racing to find excuses for visiting again so soon. “I could say-”

“Dan,” Phil cut him off with a laugh. “I want to visit you. Calm down.”

Dan hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Dan,” Phil said. “Why? Are you?”

Dan hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you again; I really do. But I mean, there are so many people here who know me and I’m not really out. To anyone. Except you.” And someone online, he added silently in his head.

“That’s okay,” Phil said. “We don’t have to- do anything gay if you don’t want to.” He paused. “At least not in public,” he added hopefully.

Dan chewed on his lip. “Even if my parents were out of the house, my little brother is really nosy. Sorry, I don’t think we’d be able to go there.”

“That’s okay,” Phil said, even though Dan thought he still sounded a little bit disappointed. “I’d still like to visit you. I don’t want to make you come to London every time we want to see each other.”

Butterflies erupted in Dan’s stomach. Every time? This wasn’t a one off thing?

“That’s sweet,” he said. “But really, London seems better in pretty much-”

“Awesome,” Phil said. “What time can you pick me up from the train station this Saturday?”

***

Dan opened AIM again, halfheartedly hoping that Amazingphil had come online in the five minutes he’d had AIM closed. He hadn’t, so Dan sighed, closing it again. He checked his twitter for another five minutes, then opened AIM again.

Amazingphil’s away message wasn’t even descriptive: “How much pain has cracked your soul? How much love would make you whole?” Just a Muse lyric. If it meant something, Dan wasn’t going to bother trying to decipher it.

Dan closed AIM again. He opened twitter. He closed twitter, and opened AIM. He repeated the cycle until it was time to pick Phil up at the train station.

Luckily, his mum didn’t ask why he needed the car, just absentmindedly handed him the keys and told him to drive safely. He parked near the train station, hoping he wouldn’t forget where he left the car.

“So this is Wokingham!” Phil said when he got off his train.

Dan nodded. “This is Wokingham.” Phil was disturbingly excited to be in Dan’s town. Dan wasn’t sure why, it was nothing compared to London.

Phil jumped up and down, smiling. Dan couldn’t help but smile back.

“So,” Phil said. “Show me the sights! Hear me the sounds! What is there to do around here?”

Dan shrugged. “Uh, I don’t really go out a lot. But there’s this coffee place I go to a lot if you don’t mind more coffee?”

Phil narrowed his eyes. “Is it Starbucks?”

Dan laughed. “Starbucks? You wish. Phil, I am going to take you to the indiest, least mainstream coffeeshop you have ever been to.”

Phil blinked. “Low bar, if I’m being honest.”

“After this, you’ll never be able to go to a Starbucks again without being disappointed.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Tall order.” He giggled. “Get it? Tall order? Because Starbucks drinks are-”

Dan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help giggling either. “Shut up.”

Phil’s tongue poked out when he laughed, Dan noticed. “Never. I will not be silenced.”

Dan shook his head. “Disappointing.”

Phil pouted.

Dan relented. “It was a little bit funny.”

Phil immediately perked up. “You think I’m funny?”

Dan rolled his eyes so hard they hurt.

Phil giggled.

“Shut up,” Dan said. “Let’s go.”

When they got to the coffee shop, Phil spent an obnoxious amount of time reading the menu.

“It’s just coffee,” Dan said. “It’s not that complicated.”

“It is absolutely that complicated,” Phil insisted. He ended up taking about ten minutes to decide what to order, and when he did it was the same caramel macchiato he had ordered at the Starbucks they went to in London.

Dan reached past Phil to put a wad of pound notes on the counter. “My treat,” he said. “Since you got the train tickets and all.”

Phil glared at Dan and stuffed a wad of pound notes in the tip jar.

Oh well. At least Dan could say he tried. And the barista, who was honestly a little bit cute, seemed very happy about it, so Dan was going to call this a win.

Their coffee was ready in just a few minutes, and Dan watched Phil’s face carefully as he took his first sip of his caramel macchiato. “How is it?” he asked.

Phil closed his eyes. “It’s amazing.”

“Better than Starbucks?”

Phil’s eyes flew open. “Now, now. I didn’t say that,” he said.

Dan snorted at the look of near-panic on Phil’s face. “Don’t worry, Phil. I won’t tell Starbucks you’ve been cheating on her.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dan. You’re such a good friend.”

Dan looked down. Friend. He didn’t want to act ungrateful, but he had been hoping that Phil didn’t want to only be his friend.

Phil groaned. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dan looked up, confused.

“Sorry,” Phil said. “I kind of just got out of a relationship, and I know we live in different cities, so I don’t know if it’s honestly the best idea, but I really like you. And I want to make it work. If you do too.”

Dan smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Their coffee date- date? Was this a date? It really seemed like a date- well, whatever it was, it went well. Phil admitted that this coffee was, in fact, superior to Starbucks. He told Dan a bit about his job- he worked as a video editor- and asked Dan about his. Dan was a little embarrassed to admit he worked at Asda, but Phil didn’t seem fazed. Before long, Dan was telling stories about all the outraged customers he’d dealt with, and Phil was laughing along.

Dan let himself relax a little bit. It didn’t seem like Phil was going to judge him.

They spent the rest of the day wandering around Wokingham. There really wasn’t much to see, but Dan pointed out all of the places he and his friends used to spend time, before, well, they stopped being Dan’s friends, and all of the little coffee shops and secondhand clothing stores he still went to.

When Phil got on his train home, he didn’t kiss him. Dan knew too many people in Wokingham for that. But Phil did hug him, tightly, and Dan whispered a promise to visit soon in his ear.

***

When Dan got back to his room, the first thing he did was check AIM.

Amazingphil still had the same away message as that morning. Dan sighed. Why was he so hard to reach today?

Oh well. There were other things to do on the internet anyway. Twitter was boring today, but there was always YouTube, and random AIM chatrooms where he didn’t know anyone. Dan lost track of time, chatting with someone he was pretty convinced was a fifty year old man pretending to be a teenager, until he got a notification that Amazingphil was online.

He immediately closed his other chat window; the fifty year old man would have to wait.

danisnotonfire: ur back!!! :D

amazingphil: lol

amazingphil: im back :D

danisnotonfire: was ur relaxing day unplugged relaxing

amazingphil: lol

amazingphil: yes

amazingphil: i had a good day :)

danisnotonfire: that’s good

amazingphil: i was thinking though

amazingphil: u know what’s weird

amazingphil: i don’t know what u look like >.<

amazingphil: we should skype or something

danisnotonfire: we should

danisnotonfire: when?

danisnotonfire: like rn?

amazingphil: sure

amazingphil: if u want

amazingphil: im not doing anything

Dan glanced around. He should clean his room.

danisnotonfire: give me 5

He glanced around again. There was no way his entire room was getting cleaned in five minutes.

Oh well. He had committed. He slammed his laptop shut and surveyed the room, trying to figure out what he could clean in five minutes. Or, well, what he could shove under his bed or in his closet in the next five minutes.

He managed to hide all his dirty laundry, then kicked a bunch of the clutter in his room to one side and pointed his laptop camera firmly away from it.

He opened AIM again, composing a message.

danisnotonfire: ok im ready

danisnotonfire: my skype is danisnotonfire too

He barely had time to open skype before he got an incoming call from Amazingphil. He picked up, then gaped at the screen in shock.

“Wait,” he said. “Phil?”

Phil blinked. “Dan?”

“What are you doing here?” Dan asked stupidly.

“Skyping you,” Phil said, just as stupidly.

“You’re- you’re Amazingphil?”

“Yeah.”

“And also Phil.”

“I think?” Phil extended his arms, staring at them, as if to check that they were real.

Dan groaned, putting his head in his hands. “How did we not figure this out?”

“To be completely honest,” Phil admitted, “I couldn’t really figure out what your screenname was supposed to say. I didn’t really know your name was Dan.”

Dan laughed. “What did you think it said?”

Phil blushed. “I don’t know!”

“No, really,” Dan said, an embarrassing amount of affection leaking into his voice. “What did you think it said?”

“Like, Dani snot on fire or something,” Phil said. “Look, it’s hard to read, it’s all lowercase-”

Dan groaned. “You thought my name was Dani and my username was about my snot being on fire?”

“Look,” Phil said, still blushing, “I don’t know. What’s your excuse for not knowing who I was?”

Dan felt his face heat up. He shrugged. “Phil is a common name?”

Phil laughed. “Not that common. Dan, you spork-”

“Shut up!” Dan said. “I’m not the one who doesn’t know how to read-”

“Maybe if your username wasn’t so hard to read-”

“Oh, blame it on me-”

“Look, I’m just saying-”

Dan scoffed. “You’re just saying.”

“I am,” Phil insisted. “Look, we both made bad decisions-”

“Bad decisions?” Dan said. “You think us meeting was a-”

“Okay, okay. Stupid decisions,” Phil corrected himself. “My point is, we’re here now. Isn’t that what matters?”

Dan had to agree that it was.

[dyingnwshes]

😠

❛    what ? what’s got you glaring at me like you’re going to kill  me ? ❜ she finally asked after feeling the daggers at her for some while now .  teagan didn’t understand why they were staring hardcore at her.  trying to recollect their face for something she had done . nothing .   ❛  plus - sweetie , you could get nowhere near me without me hurting  you . ❜ threating her as she smiles as sweet as she can .  ❛  now please , go be cheery somewhere else .   ❜

[marlacrane]

『COURTNEY EATON ❙ CIS FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like MARLA CRANE is here for HER JUNIOR year as a JOURNALISM student. she is 22 years old & known to be inventive, dogged, heedless & blunt. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ mia. 23. pt. she/her.

[without me by eminem plays muffled from the next room as marla wanders thru the door w a mickey of vodka in her left hand and the communist manifesto in her right]

tws for drug use, mental illness

history

she has a happy childhood in a seattle suburb. she’s the youngest of two girls, and even though her mom works all the time, and her dad’s overseas, everything’s fine. until marla gets to second grade, which she hates, gets into a fight with a boy, and nearly bites his finger off. this time she gets off with a warning. then, later that week, said boy and her are working on this paper maché duck together, and the teacher's keeping an eye on them at first but has now dismissed them as totally getting along, and then the teacher glances at them again to find that they have vanished, and so have the art supplies. the two of them are found six hours later hiding in a park. they’ve been hanging out there all day, asking for a quarter from each unsuspecting parent or guardian they’ve seen. they’ve used this to buy as much food from the community centre vending machine as they can carry. their goal: wait until their parents are sleeping, steal the tent from marla’s backyard, and go live in the treehouse in his backyard. upon discovery, they’re both grounded for a month. marla is no longer allowed to read calvin and hobbes  –��  her mom is pretty sure it’s what inspired the escape attempt.

she and this boy, whose name is jasper, regroup once they’ve been ungrounded. jasper and her are both the sort of kids who bite their nails at the sign of a group project. their fight had been over who got to read the classroom’s only calvin and hobbes anthology. their initial truce had been based entirely around a mutual desire for treehouse living. now, they just want insurance. so they agree to partner up, always.

they’re bad influences on each other. apart, they’re both a little feral, sure, but they understand that certain things are not possible, and they avoid danger if they can help it. when they hang out, though, they egg each other on. jasper breaks his arm because marla dares him to climb the school; marla’s suspended after jasper dares her to pull the fire alarm; jasper and marla accidentally burn down a garden shed; jasper and marla scam five people out of their lunch money so they can go see a movie after school. (they pay them back a week later. they’re not total monsters. also, they were getting scared one of the kids was gonna tell on them).

jasper’s parents are moving. jasper’s moving with them, out to the country. marla hates it, but she steels herself. she can be independent. she’s nearly sixteen now, and it’s about time she started. but she’s going to miss him. he tells her that nothing’s going to change, which she tells him is bullshit. he takes this the wrong way, and they stop speaking to each other. this goes on for five months. marla’s lonely at first  ––  she doesn’t know how to talk to people who aren’t him. she starts dating this guy, and that opens things up a little bit. he introduces her to his friends, and suddenly she doesn’t feel as wild. she’s no longer a product of the outskirts.

one night she thinks fuck it, that’s enough silence. she sneaks out at one am, texting jasper to meet her halfway. she borrows her sister’s car. marla figures she practically knows how to drive. she’s done it a few times. and, to her credit, she makes it to where she and jasper are meeting. she also wraps the car around a pole. she emerges relatively unharmed, and she panics. jasper doesn’t show up. he texts to tell her he got caught trying to leave. she calls him an idiot. then she waits there, arms crossed, incapable of doing anything but dreading consequences, until it’s nearly morning. that’s when a cop drives by and the process of being in trouble begins. it’s a clusterfuck. this is when her sister stops speaking to her  ––  marla’s been on thin ice with her for a long time, but now it’s over. it isn’t so much that her sister wants to hold a grudge. it’s just finally too much. and marla gets it. for once, she doesn’t try and change things, or slip out of trouble. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get into a number of shouting matches with her mom. her phone is taken away, as is all of her money, which goes toward buying her sister a new car. her laptop is sold in the name of the new car too. she can use the family computer if schoolwork absolutely demands internet access.

she hasn’t heard from jasper in a long time. her now ex boyfriend is still sort of a friend, but not the kind she can hang out with. there was one girl she really got along with at their school, but they made out at a party and the next day the girl wouldn’t really look her in the eyes. she turns seventeen, the birthday celebrated more or less alone, and does a little stint in juvie for keying a teacher’s car. she then spends a year at a community college, followed by radcliffe. she picks radcliffe because she’s accepted, and because it’s far from home. being at home fills her with this sick feeling now  ––  something went bad somewhere along the way, and she’s pretty sure it was her that made the wrong turn at the crossroads. not her mom, not jasper, not anyone else that had power over her life. and she won’t reach out to her friend, or to her sister, because that would mean admitting she cares more than they do.

she sort of wishes she could go back to being a careful person. she wants to understand boundaries. she also wants her life to have a purpose, and she likes writing, and she’s always loved nancy drew, but being a detective would’ve meant being a cop and she'd genuinely rather die, so she’s gone for journalism. she’s not loving the university experience, but it’s better than before, and it’s provided a lot of distractions that she’s grateful for.

headcanons / personality :

she can be a little abrasive.

she smokes weed whenever she can afford it, because if she doesn’t she tends toward feeling depressed and highly uninspired. she carries this apathy with her, and then every once in a while she’ll snap, and either get a lot better or a lot worse. klonopin is her best friend now.

she’s 100% a leftist and the way to her heart at this point is through communism memes. she’s slowly but surely making her way through the works of karl marx. she’d probably be done by now, but she keeps reading romance novels instead. (this is also a secret. she reads them on her phone and deletes them the moment she’s done so that nobody can know).

she lives to pirate movies, but claims that the only movie she’s ever seen is showgirls. this is because she dated a film major during her first year of college and found him so insufferable that she’s decided nobody can ever know she watches movies. she gets that he was just a jackass, and she shouldn’t judge anyone by their major, and yet................ that said, she has a secret letterboxd account (when she made it, she found her ex’s account and blocked him, just in case) and on it there’s a list of films in which richard nixon gets punched in the face.

deep down she’s actually very sentimental and sensitive, which is why she worked so hard to Not Be That growing up. she does her very best to never show that side of herself  ––  if someone sees her crying she’s just gotta kill them ! those are the rules. and after a while it got more and more difficult to actually access that side of herself. when she cries, it’s an Event.

she’s always broke. she’s also somehow always capable of scraping together exactly enough money to go out.

she knows that if jasper contacted her now, even after the years of radio silence, she’d do anything for him. they’re still friends, even if that friendship only exists in her memories. she realizes she could text him, but that would violate her strict double texting rules. and she’s afraid to.

she definitely makes bad decisions while drunk. like, all the time. speaking of which, she’s up for anything ! wanna attempt to summon a demon at 3 am? she’s ur girl ! wanna break into someone’s house and move all of the furniture over by about an inch before stealing away into the night? she’s already there !

she’s actually a good listener, which is one of the only positive traits she credits herself with. that, and creativity.

she’s a taurus but like . there is almost definitely some pisces / scorpio / sagittarius on her chart

she can play piano. she’s actually pretty good at it. or she was, back when she had access to pianos.

she really really really really really really wants a dog but there is no way in hell she can afford one

she’s bisexual

wanted connections :

(i mean. i will love anything, but....)

exes  –  whether they dated for a while or just hooked up once or twice tbh

enemies  –  these are easy because marla often does not consider consequences, so she could easily have done smth :/ to ur muse

friends  –  pls ! she needs them

unrequited crush  –  on her part, probably ? maybe they’re friends and she doesn’t wanna fuck that up but she’s starting to care about them in a different way. I Love Repression. what a good trope.

if anyone’s down for spontaneous tattoos............ she loves those (@chase hi, hello, come here)

a good influence would be fantastic

anyone else from seattle / the seattle area who maybe knew her in passing

um i really want this

[daysiias]

{ zendaya ♔ 24 ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t daysia collins running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for six years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a crisis counselor for a living. they have been known to be quixotic yet nurturing. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { kim ♔ 25 ♔ est ♔ she/her }

yall know me. i’m kim, i play serenity, and i’m one of the admins!!  this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.

however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.

he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.

when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again, up until recently when she started letting @malcolmvramsey​​ drive her places she needed to go. she always tries to give him gas money, but he rarely takes it.

a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.

in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.

daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.

she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.

in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.

about three weeks ago, daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she’s mere days from flunking out of school and losing her job. but nobody knows, because she acts like she doesn’t know either.

all in all, she’s doing a lot of self sabotage but covering it up with every ounce of grace she has.

as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.

she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!

FUN FACTS

she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.

really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.

roomate(s): ^^ the forementioned current roommate or two!! i would like her to be veeeery close to whoever lives here. they have to be ok with her dog, her weed, and how mf needy she is.

current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.

party friends:  this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them

exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.