#( && * verse | xoxo gossip girl )

[gunchamber]

krissy getting arrested & recording her testimony hmmm who's bailing her out ?

[in-the-pocket]

The attack of the downbeat sets the tone for the entire song. When it's sharp, clean, in time, everything else is also sharp, clean, in time. When it's uncertain, dirty, out of time, everything else is pointless. You never keep going after a bad attack. You always cut and go from the top. And you go from the top over and over and over and over until you get it right.

[173 bpm, 4/4 time] click, click, click, click, click, downbeaTt-

And there it is. The slightest muddying of the water.

Pippa grimaced and threw her hand up into the air, making a tiny, tight fist. The group of twenty students before her came to an abrupt halt. Sticks paused right above the cymbals, fingers released the keys and valves. The air flowing through mouthpieces ceased as quickly as it started. Except for one. One stray note fading out after everyone else.

The room was dead silent, the air as tight as an up-tuned snare. The muscles in the woman's neck were just as tense, which drove her to the brink of insanity. Relaxed means in control. Tight means the loss of control. Like a dog, the music can take you for a ride if you don't put it in its place first. At that point, you're being played instead of doing the playing.

Pippa's eyes were calmly shut, as they often were during rehearsals. Quite frankly, the insane fashion choices of some of these kids made her question when people lost the feeling of shame. Does showing up in pjs really help you play better? Does the feeling of spit occasionally dripping on your barely covered tits really make you feel like a better musician?

"Preston." The name fell from her mouth like a chewed up piece of broccoli steamed without salt. It was a name she said often, which made it all the more unpleasant.

Preston Neilson, supposedly the top brass player of this cohort, was well over six feet tall with slicked back hair and horrible wire framed glasses that made him look evil.

Pippa greatly disagreed with his "top" designation. As with most high brass musicians, if you had the muscles to squeeze your lips together tight enough to scream a high C, you were treated like a god. Preston, was treated like a god.

From day one of rehearsals, Pippa had made it her mission to test this false god. "Top" and "good" were adjectives that were earned with hard work and being in fucking time. She slowly opened her brown eyes to stare at him. He was staring right back, somewhat defiantly.

"Yes, Professor Belt?" he replied.

Pippa's gaze dropped to his lips for just a second, noticing their red, puffy nature. He's straining. Her eyes flicked back up to his blue ones.

"Why is it that no matter what, you're the one who can never seem to cut off in time with everyone else?"

The boy licked his swollen lips and clenched his jaw. If she hadn't known better, Pippa would've assumed the redness in his face was from exertion and fatigue. But she did know better. He was angry.

When he said nothing, she raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "You'd think the so-called 'top' player of the cohort would be able to cut off in time, don't you think? So either you're incapable of tightening your diaphragm and biting down on that air, or, you're not watching my hands. I don't care which it is, because they're both bad."

She gave him no room to protest, forcing him to cut that air off as soon as he tried to get it out. So he's not watching, she concluded. Her head snapped in the direction of the saxophones. They were a horribly sweaty and chatty group of young men with wiry, patchy facial hair. Her eyes bored holes into each of their heads, one by one. One of them nervously licked his reed as if anticipating being singled out to play the attack.

"Tighten up, altos. I can hear the hesitation. If you're going to come in late, be confident about it."

She looked back down at the charts on her music stand. "Hot Mallets" by Lionel Hampton. This chart was incredibly easy for the average level of musicianship in this room and to make it worse, very under-tempo. Pippa looked at her watch which read twenty seven minutes past seven.

It had been two years since she'd heard and felt things that weren't there. But tonight, she felt a warm, familiar breath on the back of her neck. She could practically smell him, the whiskey, the cigarettes, the empty words of adoration.

"Harder. You need to be harder on them. Get them on your fucking time," he cooed. The breath grew warmer, and the feeling of a wet, hot tongue grazed her ski-

"Professor?"

Pippa's shoulders tightened up even more than before and she winced. She looked back up at Preston. He looked far less like a jerk and maybe even slightly concerned. The eyes of every bushy-tailed, optimistic and eager musician in the room were glued to her. She had to give it to them, they never did anything unless she told them to. They were all still upright, ready to start if she decided to pick her hand back up.

The breathing on her neck disappeared when she locked eyes with Fanghua Chen, the tiny trombone player with spiky pigtails. The girl looked exhausted, and her lips were three shades darker than her flushed cheeks. Still, the girl smiled at her.

"Let's call it early tonight."

The students shot each other sidelong glances and nervously bounced their legs. Pippa simply gave them a curt nod, and began to pack up her things without another word. After a few moments of silence, the kids followed suit. The room filled with the noise of shuffling papers, spit valves being emptied, hushed conversation and the closing of instrument cases. The kids were gone in under ten minutes, leaving her chest with a familiar ache.

Pippa made her way to the bathroom, carefully avoiding the puddles of warm saliva dotting the floor. She glided past the janitor who always gave her a little nod. "Sorry for the spit," she said, just like every other week.

In the bathroom, she stared into the mirror. The face that stared back was familiar. It was Pippa. Her hair was still red, still curly. Her cheeks were still puffy, her eyes still brown. At the ripe age of thirty, she carried a few more wrinkles than before, but nothing was out of place. Nothing except for the man standing behind her.

Despite the years that had passed between their last encounter, she remembered every detail about him. He looked the same as when they had first met. Devilishly handsome, well dressed, smug. The only difference? He had no eyes. Instead, he had two black empty sockets with crimson dripping from them. If she looked hard enough, she could see the remnants of tendons and other viscera.

He always had such beautiful eyes. Eyes she wanted to never forget every time he brought her to the edge of ecstasy. Eyes she wanted to tear out every time he watched her play.

Her eyeless torturer smiled at her and oddly enough, she smiled back.

[shiitb4lls]

i take note of the way the others eyes widen when i state my profession. something akin to surprise or shock, now that's interesting. once again information to tuck away for a later time. i can't help but let out a small laugh at the warning to be more careful, now this is not the first time i have heard that. my hand raises, moving to rub at the back of my neck. i should have been paying more attention, head in the clouds, perhaps. so far the case hadn't seemed to be a particularly dangerous one. "well, unfortunately for you, no offense taken. you're right, my guard should have been up."

my hand drops as his is extended forward. bear, what an intriguing name. i accept the hand and shake it firmly, sending a smile in bear's direction. "benoit blanc, pleasure to make your accentuate." and then i am laughing again as he mentions heroics. "i will be sure to note your act of bravery in my notes. would be a shame to turn a blind eye to such a kind act."

[yaziciyasemin]

CORE 8 AND THEIR LAST BLAST ON GG // @mythvlogie @frgilebones @wearyhands @glcssed @outofloved @lovesonged @ladygenie

[plexiglassed]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆:  new  verse  tag  !

[wistfulrat]

a 4-part rec list of my fave drarry fics - the thrillers, dramas, soft bois, and wankbanks getting me through 2020′s shitstorm

[the soft boi list is here and truly i’m not surprised this rec is going to be the longest bc if there’s one thing a bitch is going to do, it’s yearn.

as always! if you love a fic, follow the authors, leave kudos & comments, send them nice msgs bc free art is still labor xoxo]

part 3: soft bois

mood: for when I need respite, a balm to the all-consuming shittiness of life

includes: fluff, comfort, low-stakes, slow-burn fics. a wistful look, a rainy morning, an unexpected grace, a stupidly disarming joke. i could live inside these fics. the smallness of human lives removed from the site of that which hurts & irreparably changes. the story-equivalent of a deep breath after a long day. pregnant silences & pensive mundanity & shy smiles. banter with bite but without the cruelty. the color lavender. weirdly whimsical. soft fics are not necessarily conflict-averse (no drarry fic rly can be, considering the context) but, they offer the reader a generous distance from the initial harm. they’re the quiet cleaning up after a storm. sometimes healing is an exacting surgical knife and other times it’s a slow scabbing. you read these fics to be reassured that the way forward is not always ruthless. and honestly?? they deserve a semblance of peace godDAMmit.

The Way Down by @letteredlettered - 65k - T “and I thought that if someone talked to you as though you were a human being you might—maybe you could act like one” --the way i think about this line daily. the characterization of draco in this fic is one my favorites bc he’s earnest and neurotic and tired of harry’s shit. which is to say, he cares so so much. and harry doesn’t know what to do with that bc he’s got a monster in his chest and lives as a recluse. but they both humanize each other in ways no one else can. “you’re just a person” has to be some kind of drarry ethics of belonging and it makes me CRY. -

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by @greaseonmymouth and dustmouth - 96k - T “Maybe it’s not about deserving it? Maybe you just get to have it anyway. . .I’m allowing myself to want something and to let myself have it and to fight for it.” --harry runs a daycare and also works at a library. draco spends a lot of time in said library. they bond over sci-fi books and therapy anecdotes and quiet philosophical conversations held over cafeteria soup. and harry’s struggling to understand his asexuality. draco’s learning how to live with anxiety and depression. they both want to be deserving of love. incredible fic with beautiful art by dustmouth. - 

Open for Repairs by @drarrytrash - 35k - T “A few leaves rustle in the gutter and the muggle world pays no mind to them, to two lost boys holding on for dear life.” --all of their fics feel exactly like this. like you’ve been allowed to look at something private, tender, unexpected. draco, known abba fan, is a repairman in the muggle world & harry can’t stop breaking thrifted things in order to see him? say less, i'm thERE. also “I think I have a crush on you” goddddd  - other faves by them: Counting Down By Ten - 2k - T: draco’s stepped outside of the party for a smoke. harry follows him bc of course he does. i could read this 100 times and not get tired of it. - Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - 36k - E: FUCKING HILARIOUS I CACKLED THROUGH THE WHOLE THING. draco’s wolfy problem and harry helping him and harry being flustered by how much he likes draco and draco’s hot heroic moment. shutup it’s perfect. “He almost asks if Draco ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit all the time, but he knows that he, personally, never ever gets tired of being a miserable complaining shit.” and “It’s the traumas,” Harry says gravely” --lines that live rent free in my head -

Harry Potter and the Future He Doesn't Really Want, Thanks by seefin - 70k - E “That was the only logical thing to do here, wasn’t it? It was the next step, it was the end of hurting each other and the beginning of the exact opposite.” --harry lives with luna and neville and also he dreams about the future sometimes? and he keeps running into draco. draco thinks this is sus as hell, until he doesn’t. feat. taxi rides, museums, cinemas, rooftop conversations beneath a lunar eclipse, mid-sex innocuous banter, draco and harry discussing nicki minaj. this fic charmed my ass off. seefin writes the most effortlessly hilarious dialogues. i smiled at my phone like an idiot at least 7 times. -  other faves by them: Wild - 93k - E: “he liked feeling needed, for the things that he was needed for back at the house in Ireland. For cooking and gardening and driving. Easy things.” --this shit makes me cry it’s so good. harry lives in Ireland with these three brilliant, hilarious, wandless witches and draco’s a potions student who's come to study under one of the housemates and the boys have so much shit to work through but their love becomes so tender and honest. draco yells at harry a lot and harry lets him and they both keep each other grounded in something real and fuCK.  - Divination for Dickheads - 7k - G: “I’m terrible at having crushes. I’ve never played anything cool a day in my life.” -- oh harry, we knOW. a bus ride, a fortune teller, an aquarium birthday party. god i love this fic. -

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic​ - 61k - E “But we’ve worked so hard at this, haven’t we? Yeah, I know it’s a horror to have to talk about it, but fuck it. We’re friends now, but it took so long to get here. Have you ever had to work so hard at something before?" --the steady blossoming of their friendship in this fic is so goddamn beautiful i want to yell. it’s draco and harry learning to trust each other and the whole thing unfolds so slowly, in this whimsical mix of london streets, wizarding politics, church halls feat. a Hot vicar, and a magical antique shop owner who’s married to literal poseidon?? goD the environment of this fic. immaculate. [also there’s a tender shower scene that makes me cry every single fucking time so if you read this fic pls dm me so we can be embarrassing about it together tbh] -

Nice Things by aideomai - 22k - M “He kept waiting for the weird shock of touch to not knock him clean out of his head, leave him quiet and warm and happy.” --8th year. harry forms an unlikely friendship with draco that begins with smoking weed on a windowsill. harry is touch-starved and draco touches him like he touches all his close friends - like it’s easy. the quiet affection in this fic, the way harry burrows himself into touch bc he’s been without it for his entire life. reading this is like being held. -

Running On Air by @tinyhistory​ - 74k - T “do you remember when we were eleven?” --alexa play coldplay’s the scientist it’s sad girl hours and we’re about to fucking yearn. you’ve seen this fic rec on every drarry list under the sun and i'm here to be redundant. the hype is so goddamn real. this story is a lyrical masterpiece held together by lines that act as refrains that will rattle around your brain until you die, probably. draco’s been missing for 3yrs. harry goes to find him. it’s their odyssey of homecoming. -

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken - 12k - T “But Draco, Draco was everything but boring. Draco made sitting in the rain watching an empty house fun.” --auror partners pining and draco being eccentric and harry being very earnestly gay about draco’s eccentricities!! god this fic is so genuinely fun skskd feat. undercover missions, murderous faeries, a book heist, a stunning navy dress, harry’s eyelashes. -

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by @thistle-verse - 14k - T “Draco is about to say something else— to thank Potter for what he’d done, however poorly— but Harry is smiling at him again, and it’s so soft and perfect that Draco holds in any inadequate words, lest he spoil it.” --draco collects tea cozies and of course harry has the one he wants. the sad and tender gays are at it again feat. conversations in the rain at a train station, melancholy Blaise, muggle photos, wizarding e-bay, the Dursleys.  -

Helix by Saras_Girl - 92k - E “Draco sighs in his sleep and Harry clings on to consciousness, needing to hold on, to give this tiny, insignificant moment the attention it deserves” --I think maybe you can describe every soft Saras_Girl story as giving tiny, insignificant moments the attention they deserve. like, this is an 8th year fic about snails and it’s full of whimsy, grief, compassion, and easy humor. an absolute must-read author in this genre if you want languorous, episodic fics full of distinct OCs and affectionate creatures. - other faves by them: Light up the Night Sky - 98k - M “Draco, sometimes you make my head feel like soup” --the one where harry is a fireworks artist and has a pet chameleon named ken. draco is on the wizarding arts council. they both pine like hell. - Headlights in the Snow - 71k - M “they stare at each other in silence, Harry’s heart beating so loud in his chest that he thinks the biddies must be able to hear it over the sound of their card game.” --the one where draco drives the knight bus and carts around the biddy club, a group of rambunctious old ladies who knit and drink tea and gossip. harry can’t help but fall in love with the everything about this. -

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 - 38k - T “Harry’s heavy thoughts lift at the sight, like dark clouds blown away from the sun by the wind. The tent doesn’t feel so cramped and stifling now. It feels cozy. And safe. It’s the same feeling that Harry gets when he’s at the Burrow for Sunday roasts, when a group of people who care for each other deeply are crammed into too-small a space.” --harry wanders to the lovegood house on a sunday afternoon. he’s baffled to see that luna’s taken pansy, greg, and draco under her wing. what follows is a summer of forest walks, scavenger hunts, gardening, water fights, odd cakes, faerie rings, and picnics. so many picnics. i love the pace of this fic, the innocent return to childhood things, the way luna brings out the best in all her friends. reluctantly soft slytherins are just *chefs kiss*!! -

Going Postal (A 125pg comic) by dustmouth - T what. a. beautiful. ass. comic. the wizarding fashion, the textures, the character design!! harry travels a lot for his job as a resourcer. draco works in the regulations dept. they pine like a bunch of lovesick idiots via field report notes. god i love dustmouth’s art. -

All the Earnest Young Men by @tepre​ - 29k - E “Draco is twenty-seven layers of personality wrapped up in drama and humour, and a wit so sharp it still stings when he doesn’t see it coming. But there is something below that, too. Something that makes Harry ache just looking at him.” --the way i would lay down my little life for tepre’s characterization of draco, whom invented the word earnest. he’s a magical art theory expert and portraits are disappearing all over London and harry’s the auror assigned to this case. and well. they’re both so very avoidant about how gay they are for each other and it’s like!! shutup and kiss!! which they do in fact, shutup and kiss.  -

Trenches by sara_holmes - 3k - M “Somewhere in the distant part of his mind that hasn't frozen solid, he thinks that maybe he and Draco are about to become more than auror partners, smoking buddies, wine-mates and co-inhabitants of a snow filled trench somewhere in western Scotland.” --the plot line here is literally “it’s cold and i need a fucking cigarette” but let me tell you how I never tire of the shared loaded-silences of two emotionally repressed gays. -

The Years Before Love by lomonaaeren - 13k - M “That’s one of the meanings of peace, he thinks, as Hermione hugs him...That he can do things slowly, softly, without worrying that they won’t be there tomorrow.” --andromeda taking harry under her wing and harry finding solace in teddy. narcissa and draco showing up and the tentative relationships that slowly develop in the quiet calm of andromeda’s house. found families and kisses in the snow and special xmas gifts ugh what’s not to love -

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy - 35k - M “I want this to be a house where people are welcome, where they don’t have to be any one way or another” --in which harry collects lost things--owls, best friends, inept bakers, potions experimenters--and turns the mausoleum that is grimmauld place into a home. feat. your fave drarry tropes like shared-beds and reluctant waltzing partners. -

[part 1: thrillers | part 2: dramas | part 3: soft bois | part 4: wankbanks]

[fubureaders]

♪ tracklist ♪

the masterlist

♪ dc comics-verse

to the watchtower!

♪ cw's gossip girl

xoxo

♪ hbo max's gossip girl

xoxo, but for the gram

♪ boy meets world

life's tough, wear a helmet

♪ tvd-verse (the vampire diaries, the originals, legacies)

something for the (undead) hotties

♪ teen wolf

mccall pack with added black

♪ first kill

netflix's undead gay hotties

♪ julie and the phantoms

netflix's julie and the phat ones

♪ mcu

the one with stan lee

♪ disney channel

and you're watching...

♪ disney plus

and you're watching... but paying more $$

♪ percy jackson and the olympians

what is love? baby don't hurt me...

♪ formula one

lights out, and away we go!

♪ rpf (real person fanfic)

smile for the camera!

♪ big time rush (show and/or irl)

four [lovable] minnesota hockey players

♪ miscellaneous

these folks need love, too...

more incoming...

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 43 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters here on AQ or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

And thank you again to our wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane

Chapter Summary: It’s finally the night of senior prom!! It starts out great...but will it end in disaster? (Spoiler alert: yes)

Chapter 43: I Just Wanna Dance

There were a million things Courtney loved about being in the The Scarlet Pimpernel--finally getting a chance to play a lead role in a musical, the songs themselves, the beautiful costumes they’d borrowed from a nearby university’s theatre company, the warm encouragement from Mrs. Maguire, watching her friends and castmates shine, when her dad surprised her by showing up for one of the weekend shows with a bouquet of pink roses…

But her favorite thing of all was being onstage with Adore. It was the first time they’d had multiple scenes together since playing Annie and Miss Hannigan in 5th grade, and for Courtney, it made the experience a million times better.

Closing night was bittersweet. In some ways, Courtney wished that it would never end. But she was excited for prom and graduation, their Mexico road trip and their first apartment. So even though it was a little bit sad, she didn’t cling to it. Instead, she focused on the excitement she felt about everything to come, and really tried to live in the moment, committing every single second to memory.

In the garden scene with Adore, she noticed the little wisps of hair around her face that were lit up by the bright stage lights, the way her hazel eyes gleamed, and when she leaned toward her, it was the closest they’d ever come to actually kissing in this scene. All Courtney wanted was to surrender, to just close her eyes, let their lips touch, but she fought it, finally pushing Adore away like she was supposed to at the last possible second, heart pounding, feeling a bit light-headed while she watched her sing. Really listening to the lyrics for what felt like the first time.

“Marguerite, don't forget I know who you are. We were cut from the same surly star, like two jewels in the sky, sharing fire. Where's the girl, so alive and still aching for more? We had dreams that were worth dying for. We were caught in the eye of a storm! Come again!”

Adore grabbed her hands, spinning her in a circle, and a lump formed in Courtney’s throat.

“Let the girl in your heart tumble free. Bring your renegade heart home to me. In the dark of the morning, I'll warm you, I'll rouse you . . .”

As they slowly stopped turning in a circle, Courtney swallowed hard, the dizziness getting to her, stomach in knots, and it was if Adore could sense it. She pulled her in by the waist, singing the last verse softly, directly to her. And something happened for the first time that Courtney couldn’t explain--a single tear began to slip down her cheek.

“Where's the girl? Is she gazing at me with surprise? Do I still see that blaze in her eyes? Am I dreaming or is she beside me . . . now . . .?”

The music slowly faded out, and Courtney knew that Adore was waiting for her next line, her eyes soft and expectant. She knew that she had to get it out; this was the script, and she couldn’t change it no matter how much she wanted to. So she mustered up all of her strength, squaring her shoulders and speaking, firmly and hoarsely.

“No. Get out.”

Adore’s eyes went cold as she turned and left the stage, and for a second Courtney really did think that she was going to fall, to faint or throw up or something else entirely unexpected. She knew she only had about three seconds before Willam and Gia entered, so she quickly swiped the tear from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing down the terrible feeling that something had broken inside of her, something she wouldn’t ever be able to fix.

-

“Hey…”

Courtney whirled around as Adore touched her shoulder, a startled look on her face that softened when she saw Adore.

“Oh, hi.”

“Are you alright?” Adore asked. She’d noticed the tears while they were onstage, and had a feeling that it was more than just acting.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s...I guess just that this is the last time we’re gonna be doing the show. Kinda silly.” She wiped her eyes, looking a bit embarrassed.

Adore smiled softly, pulling her in for a hug. “Nah, I know how you feel.”

Courtney squeezed her back tightly. “Thanks, Dory. I love you.”

“Me too, babe.”

-

“You girls are just so gorgeous and grown-up,” Bonnie said, sniffling a little as she snapped photo after photo.

It was finally the night of their senior prom, and as a treat, Bonnie and Karen had gotten together and treated the girls to a little spa day: mani pedis - the fancy kind with paraffin wax and massages and rhinestone embellishments, lunch at their favorite café, and professional hair styling. Courtney had gone for a glamorous updo studded with tiny red roses, Adore for a half-up style with criss-crossing fishtail braids, and Tati for smooth finger-waves that made her look like an old-time movie star. Afterwards, they’d all headed back to Adore’s house to do their makeup and get dressed.

To Adore’s relief, Courtney hadn’t brought up her weird objections to Tati being her date, and she was friendly as can be to Tati just like usual, gossiping about their classmates, giggling, having a grand old time.

Adore was very pleased with the outfit she’d ended up with: an amazing thrift store find, a short, square-necked black lace dress, very bruja, and she’d paired it with studded black boots, fishnets, and the leather choker that Courtney’d gotten her for her birthday last year. Tati looked amazing as always, her skin-tight hot pink minidress really pushing the dress code limits, but the color so fun that she’d probably be fine.

And then there was Courtney. Adore was surprised when she’d chosen it, the sleek white two-piece so unlike her: no sparkly embellishments or flouncy girliness--just a simple, spaghetti-strapped, open-backed top and long slitted skirt that made her early summer tan glow. When she first put it on, Adore had to look away for a moment, so as not to get choked up about how beautiful she was. Then of course, she completed the look with sparkly silver star accessories, red stones in her necklace matching the roses in her hair. Before they’d headed downstairs for photos, Adore gestured to her charm bracelet, the rose-gold obviously not fitting the color theme of her ensemble.

“That doesn’t really match,” she noted, and Courtney bit her lip, meeting Adore’s eyes with a look that made her insides twist.

“I don’t care.”

Now, in Courtney’s backyard, they posed for the dozens of pictures that Karen and Bonnie insisted on. First all the girls separately, then together, then Adore and Tati, who were still posing when Roy finally rounded the corner in his white tux. The second Adore caught sight of his red pocket square she burst out laughing, unable to help herself.

“Thanks, Delano, exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said.

“No, it’s cause your pocket square is...Courtney, I fucking knew that you’d do that shit again!” Adore laughed, and Courtney just shrugged, accepting first a kiss on the cheek and then the wrist corsage with the requested red roses.

“I never denied it!” Courtney said. She reached out and adjusted Roy’s lapels, grinning. “I think he looks perfect.”

“Thank you, babe, and you’re beautiful,” Roy said, before ruining the moment by turning and blowing a raspberry in Adore’s direction.

“That’s mature.”

“Adore, please pull it together for two more shots!” Bonnie interrupted, and Adore put her arm back around Tati’s waist.

Courtney and Roy were next, followed by group shots, and then Karen insisted on a couple with Courtney and Adore.

Adore swallowed, letting Courtney take her hand and lean a head on her shoulder, feeling slightly awkward.

“It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Courtney asked, between shots.

“What?”

Courtney gestured to their outfits. “Black and white.”

“Oh yeah. Very fitting, huh?” Adore said.

Courtney gazed up at her, a starry-eyed smile on her face, and Adore could feel herself melting right back to the place she’d insisted she’d never go again as the camera flashed.

“Mom! I wasn’t ready!”

“It was cute!” Karen defended herself.

“Do you think we should call Pearl and ask when-”

“Limo has arrived, bitcheeeeeees!” screeched a voice, and everyone turned to see Willam at the gate, along with Trinity, Pearl, Fame and Violet, who all came bounding in, dressed to the nines.

Courtney squealed happily, clapping her hands. After about ten or twenty more pictures of the whole group, Bonnie and Karen finally dismissed them, letting them pile into the limo, laughing and screaming happily, music blasting.

Adore was the last one to go, turning to give her mother one last little wave, pretending not to notice the tears shining in her eyes as she called, “Bye Ma! Don’t wait up!”

-

The hotel ballroom where their prom was held was the fanciest place Adore had ever been. After looking up at the huge crystal chandelier over the dance floor, Adore turned to Tati with a look of confusion and asked, “Oh my god...is our school bougie?”

Tati laughed, pulling her onto the dance floor with the rest of their group. The DJ was surprisingly good, and they twirled and laughed, dancing for hours before Tati finally admitted that her feet were killing her and she needed a break.

“Ugh, same,” said Pearl.

“This is why you wusses should have worn more comfortable shoes,” Adore proclaimed, modeling her combat boots as they trooped over to grab some punch and sit down.

“Not everyone can pull that off, dear,” Tati told her.

“Or you can just do what Trinity did,” Pearl said, gesturing to her prom date, platform sandals kicked off to the side of the dance floor, her bright yellow dress hiked up with her hands as she, Courtney and Willam shook it to Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie,’ Roy awkwardly joining in with decidedly less enthusiasm than the others.

“Still think my solution’s better,” said Adore, settling down at the table with a glass of sugary punch.

They relaxed for a few minutes, chatting and giggling, before they were joined by first Violet, then Fame, then Bob, who came bounding over with April to hype up the afterparty.

“You guys are going, right? It’s gonna be amazing!” he exclaimed, and Violet shook her head in disbelief.

“You really think a school-sanctioned afterparty will be that much fun?” she asked.

“I’m telling you! Everyone says it’s the best part of the night.”

“Really? I would think the best part of the night is how sexy your girlfriend looks,” said Pearl, sending a wink in April’s direction, making her giggle and preen.

“Okay, yes, she does, but also...after the afterparty, there’s a pancake breakfast. So, come on...”

“Robert! Hello young man! Lookin’ slick!” Roy called, walking over to give Bob a hug and slap on the back. He looked a bit sweaty and disheveled, and it made Adore chuckle.

“Courtney’s giving you a real workout, huh?” she teased.

“That girl wouldn’t leave a dance floor if you paid her,” Roy answered with a sigh, dragging a chair over from a nearby table to sit heavily. “Luckily, Willam and Trinity have much higher endurance than me, so-”

“Guess again!” Trinity exclaimed, as she flopped into Pearl’s lap. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Aww, you guys all abandoned the blue-eyed devils,” Bob said, gesturing to Courtney and Willam on the dance floor, making April crack up.

“They’re fine,” Roy said, leaning back in the chair, eyes closing.

Adore looked over at the dance floor, watching them while everyone chatted. When the song ended, to her surprise, Courtney made her way over to the group too.

“Whoa, maybe she’s actually tired! Did someone slip you some Benadryl, Court?”

Turned out, she was only there to ask Adore to come back onto the dance floor.

“Will you come dance with me?” she cajoled, reaching out her hand, a soft and hopeful look in her eyes.

“Uh…” Adore knew this was a bad idea. As much as she tried not to, told herself not to, she’d already spent too much of the evening with one eye on Courtney with Roy, fixated on the way they laughed and flirted and touched each other--it was like regressing two years, and she just wasn’t in the right headspace to confront her feelings.

“Please?” Courtney touched Adore’s lace-covered wrist, adding with a twinkle, “I’ll be your best friend...”

Adore had to chuckle at that, standing up with a resigned sigh. “Good one, bitch.”

Courtney beamed at her, leading her to the dance floor. Of course, it was some slow, schmaltzy pop ballad. And of course, Courtney’s arms immediately went around her neck, pulling her close. Head resting on her shoulder.

Adore didn’t know where to put her hands. Courtney’s skimpy top left so much of her back exposed, she could feel herself panicking before finally letting them settle on her hips. Even then, it was impossible to avoid her waist, her thumbs grazing the soft bare skin a few times before she tried tucking them into her palms.

“I love you, Dory,” Courtney murmured, and Adore gulped.

“Love you too.”

Adore tried to get her heart to settle, tried to stop the churning in her stomach, the song dragging on for what felt like an eternity while she sweated and held back her tears. When it finally ended, she broke away immediately, mumbling about how she needed a cigarette, and bolted from the dance floor.

-

Courtney watched Adore go, misty-eyed, wondering why she always ran away just when it felt like they were getting closer, and couldn’t help the dejected feeling inside, stomach twisting with regret.

“Punch?”

Courtney turned around to see Roy, holding out a cup of red punch for her. Of course he was. He was always there: dependent, steadfast, the one person in her life that she could always count on. The guilt Courtney felt would be crushing if she didn’t love him so much.

She slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close, asking, “How did I end up with the best boyfriend in the world?”

Roy sighed, setting the cup on a nearby table and wrapping her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Just lucky, I guess.” After a few moments, he ventured softly, “Do you wanna dance some more?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, arms tightening around him even more. “Yes, I really fucking do.”

-

“There you are…” Tati said, when she finally found Adore in the hotel courtyard, sitting against a stucco wall, smoking a cigarette. “You alright?”

She settled in beside her, maneuvering the best she could so as not to let her dress ride up around her hips. This didn’t feel like a conversation where it would be productive to have her underwear showing.

“Just fucking peachy.” Adore took a long drag.

“Yeah. Listen, I-”

“I really don’t want any advice right now,” Adore said, and Tati immediately closed her mouth.

“Ooookay,” she breathed, realizing that now wasn’t the right time to say what she had to say.

“Sorry. It’s just, my head is all-”

“Nah, I get it.” Tati patted her fishnet-covered thigh.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Adore’s head leaning back on the wall, Tati watching the smoke curling up into the midnight sky.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“I guess.” Adore’s voice was tired and hoarse, so Tati tried to phrase it as gently and tactfully as possible.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? If you, like, told her?”

Adore took a long drag of her cigarette, pondering the answer before saying, “I could die. I could literally die.”

“Alright.” Tati said, stretching her legs out in front of her. She wasn’t inclined to push it, adding a simple, “Just seems like something to think about.”

After a few more moments of tense silence, Adore sniffled, and Tati realized that she was crying.

“I should get out of here,” she said, stabbing the cigarette out on the pavement, using her lacy sleeve to wipe her eyes.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. It’s prom. Stay and have fun,” Adore said, and Tati was overcome with sympathy, wished there was something she could do to make her feel better--or at least, enough better to have a carefree and fun night like they all deserved. It had started out so well, and Tati still wasn’t sure where it’d gone wrong.

“Adore, come on, you can-”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tati said, staying on the ground while Adore got up, resigned to just let her have her feelings, realizing that there really was nothing she could do in that moment.

-

“Yeah, I know! There’s just something off about his face!” Violet laughed, following Trinity out of the bathroom, still talking about an idiot jock who’d tried to feel her up on the dance floor.

“I think it would be an okay face if he wasn't such a jerk,” Trinity said.

“Okay face is probably the best he can hope for,” Violet agreed. “But don’t you think he-”

Violet stopped short, abdomen twisting when she spotted Fame, in the same location they’d left her outside the restrooms, looking beautiful as ever in her full, floor-length gown covered in a large-scale blue flower print. Only she wasn’t alone. There was a blonde girl chatting with her...a blonde girl in a short, sparkly pink dress who was acting awfully familiar, a hand on Fame’s bare upper arm, flashing a bright white smile.

“Who the hell are you?” Violet asked, and the girl turned to her, blinking her brown eyes slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“I said-” Violet began, but Fame jumped in.

“You know what? We should talk later,” she told the girl, mouthing ‘sorry’ in an annoyingly obvious way, clearly not caring that Violet could see her. Or maybe doing it specifically for Violet’s benefit. Violet’s nails dug into her palms at the thought.

“Alright. Later then. Can’t wait to hang out again,” the girl said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Fame’s cheek before sauntering away with a victorious smirk.

“Who the fuck was that?” Violet asked, and Fame turned to her with crossed arms and a crosser expression.

“Hey, I think I hear...something...uh…” Trinity stammered out, backing away so as not to get caught up in the drama, calling out to an imaginary person, “What? Oh, you need-okay, coming!”

She turned and ran back towards the ballroom, leaving Fame and Violet alone.

“Well?” Violet asked, her tone still hostile, but how else was she supposed to be right now?

Fame let out a long sigh, asking, “Why are you so difficult?” She began to walk away, but Violet reached for her, fingers closing around her wrist and tugging her back.

“Fame. Who was that?”

“She’s just a girl I know from working at the bakery,” Fame said, eyes closing as if the conversation was too exhausting for words. “She graduated last year, but I guess she’s here with a friend, so-”

“No. I mean, why were you flirting with her? I thought tonight was about us.”

“Vi…” Fame finally looked into her eyes, blue eyes a bit sad, shaking her head. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?” Violet could feel herself growing more and more agitated, more and more uneasy, the ground shifting beneath her.

“Talk about us, like that. You’re my best friend. You know how much I love you. But not...not like that.”

Violet didn’t like where this conversation was going, not one bit. She bit back her anger, her impatience, her jealousy, and made her voice as soft and calm as possible.

“But you agreed to be my date. You came here with me-”

“As friends.”

“I don’t get it!” Violet exploded. “You finally broke up with Patrick, officially, and-”

“This is not about Patrick!” Fame exclaimed, exasperation all over her face. “It never was. I guess it was easy to use him as an excuse, but...I just don’t think of you that way.”

Bitterness swirled in Violet’s chest, and before she could stop herself, she spit out, “But you think of that random slut that way?” She gestured angrly in the direction of the blonde, the girl who it seemed had single-handedly managed to ruin her night. “And what did she mean by ‘again’?”

“I...we kind of...hooked up last year,” Fame admitted. “When Patrick and I were on a break, after-”

“You hooked up with a girl and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?” Violet said, anger and confusion combining, the whole thing like hands wrapped around her throat, making her eyes water and her chest constrict.

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I guess I was wrong, since you’re being so understanding.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat out, turning and walking away.

“Violet, wait!”

Violet stopped walking, but she didn’t turn. She couldn’t bear to look at Fame’s face right now, not when tears were burning in her eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

“Look, I’m sorry! Okay? I guess I just...I didn’t want to say anything that would risk hurting you. Because I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I do love you-”

At that, Violet whirled back around, those angry tears streaking hotly down her cheeks.

“No you don’t,” she said. “You never have. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Vi-”

“Enjoy your prom,” she choked out, before breaking away and rushing towards the lobby. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew that she couldn’t go back into that ballroom, with those people. Not like this.

-

Adore trudged slowly through the parking lot, wondering where she should even go. This part of town was mostly new--lots of pointless high-end stores, yuppie restaurants, hipster bars.

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going?” demanded a voice, and Adore smiled to herself, turning around to find Violet, face streaked in tears, stomping from the hotel angrily.

Adore chuckled sadly. “You look like I feel.”

“Well you look like shit,” Violet countered.

“Okay, so I guess I look like I feel too.”

“God fucking damn it, why can’t we just have one night where we’re like, normal teenagers?” Violet exclaimed, face turned upwards, and Adore shook her head.

“I dunno.”

“Where were you going, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. Just...anywhere but here.”

“Same.” Violet took her hand. “I think there’s a diner a few blocks away that’ll be open. Come on.”

[piraticalarchive]

adding an ouat/gossip girl mash up verse to my list of cringe AUs   xoxo, gossip pirate <3

[scmpiiternal]

( & * | illyssa. )

@angcldxst

     & * || DRAMA NEVER SEEMED to be in deficit on the Upper East Side–a truth that Zaiden Hendricks had all but GROWN UP with. Secrets and scandal were rampant throughout Manhattan… and with Gossip Girl lurking in every corner, every crevice, keeping stock with watchful eyes, there was no doubt that being sucked into the whirlwind of issues was INEVITABLE. In fact, the blue-eyed young man had been watching, himself, gauging with a m e t i c u l o u s gaze as his twin brother dug his own GRAVE and subsequently was forced to LIE in it; cheating on ILLYSSA GIORDANO was a dumb move to begin with. Cheating on her with her b e s t f r i e n d was suicide. A fact that Zaiden would murmur with the arrogant EASE of a spectator with a smirk gracing his LIPS and a glass of Scotch grasped FIRMLY in his hand. He had expected it, in all truthfulness; he awaited with BATEDbreath for the culmination of Zacharie’s blunders to come to a head with a sense of sadisticGLEE.

       What he HADN’T expected was the way his heart twinged ever so slightly in his chest when he saw h e r.

       The annual debutante gala was a marvelous occasion–bathed in rose gold, dipped in champagne, and showered with the crystalline lights shed from chandeliers hanging from arched ceilings. With his FINEST suit fitted to his body perfectly and a young, playful thing on his arm, Zaiden hadn’t expected to feel anything LESS than p e r f e c t i o n. But as the night wore on, the dark-haired young man couldn’t help but feel… OFF. It wasn’t until cool blue eyes rested on H E R. Alone, at the debutante ball. It was a spectacle, an anomaly, something out of the ordinary–and most DEFINITELY because of the drama that had unfolded. All it took was a polite smile and a well-timed ‘excuse me’ for Zaiden to dismiss himself from his date ( she was dreadfully dull, anyway ) before weaving his way through theCROWDS to find her.

      “Illyssa Giordano, alone ? How strange.” His drawl was SLOW and laced with the sort ofc o n f i d e n c e that was all but TRADEMARKED for the Hendricks. “Don’t tell me there weren’t at LEAST ten boys hounding your penthouse for a SHOT at being your date tonight.”

[haus-of-wu]

First Impressions and Speculations: 악몽 (Ticky Tocky) & Shadow (赤霞)  Highlight Reel

악몽 (Ticky Tocky)

I really loved the instrumental, which was used with the Shadow version album/photo teaser. It’s SJ’s first dive into trap, which should prove to be interesting.

I love how the verses sound, but I’m gonna say upfront that I’m not a huge fan of the chorus lyrics. It’s literally onomatopoeia/noise. (Boom Clap Clap Clap could literally be any other four syllable phrase, why are we adding backing word sounds when the chorus literally singsongs Ticky Tocky)

HOWEVER, I am interested in what the rest of the verses actually mean, because a quick translation of the hangul title gives you Nightmare (恶 梦 for fellow fans that can read some Chinese). I’m crossing fingers for some sort of pre-release MV of this (animated, random stuff cut together, something, anything).

Random tidbit (mayhaps a stretch), but the rhythm of the ending percussion in the Shadow version album teasers sounds suspiciously similar to “Hickory Dickory Dock”. Which may explain the Tick(y) Tock(y). Ah yes, we’re hitting the Time concept on the head here.

HENCE, I’m predicting some serious and/or dark content (that probably throws a good amount of shade at fake ELFs) depicting how SJ feels after almost 15 years in the industry.

Here are my guesses of the potential themes/lines, based on the vibe of the instrumental, the meaning of the Korean title, the tidbits of English in the lyrics that have been revealed so far, and despite knowing how to read pretty much no Korean:

General theme might be about how becoming an idol was their dream, but every dream has its dark side (nightmare), aka all the shit they’ve gone through

Ticky Tocky probably refers to either haters calling SJ old, or them feeling like the clock is constantly ticking and nagging them that time (youth) is running out

“Yes it’s love” might be something sarcastic! Like shade on ELFs who say they’ll love SJ forever and then wanted to kick Sungmin out !! Or just shade on any fan that’s against them and their dongsaengs having romantic relationships Like yeah I would totally trust Ryeowook to sing the shadiest line ever

XOXO - I can’t help but read this in the shady Gossip Girl way aka thanks for nothing you rumor-spreading fiends

“With you stay forever” - either this is SJ’s call out to ELFs saying they’re willing to endure all of this for us, or once again sniping fake ELFs for making promises they didn’t keep

TLDR is I want a dark fantasy animated MV with SJ members trying to escape from a forest (read: fandom) that has become poisoned and evil (don’t mind me, i just want a new shade song bc it’s been almost 6 years since the boss that is mamacita)

WATCH ME BE TOTALLY WRONG IN A WEEK

Shadow (赤霞)

They fuckin’ played us!! The instrumental for the Bright version teaser was actually Shadow !!

The hecking Chinese character translations are giving me “cabernet savignon” - If I break the characters into individual translations, it doesn’t make any more sense. If I try to translate this as kanji from Japanese, you get “red haze”. If you google “red haze” you end up with a strain of weed, so that’s probably not it. We’ll just go with the wine concept then.

I am totally out here for more upbeat dance hall music. Something about the tune gives me a party Maroon 5 vibe. (It’s probably all the high pitched Youuu’s)

Upon another listen, I’m realizing that this one has clock noises during the quieter/cleaner verse section. They’re really committed to making sure they’ve hammered the Timeslip/line/less concept into you.

This track so far has a great mix of soulful vocal verses, chill rap bars, and a bass drop / chorus that you can’t help grooving to. I already liked the track when it came out with the Bright teaser, but now I love it.

More speculations/observations:

“Shadows like you” - maybe ELFs are the supportive shadows, in the sense that we follow them diligently

The D&E not-bridge before the slow verse that’s before the chorus (what are words): the E/D/E/D/E/D line distribution is so on-brand for the D&E sound. Eunhyuk throwing in an upbeat rap line, Donghae interjecting with “This way, this way, okay”, another rap line, another injection, Eunhyuk sings, Donghae closes up that verse.

“This way, this way, okay” / “Walk this way” = keep on following us ? (Leeteuk always says poetic bullshit about walking the flower path together with ELFs, so this is probably that line)

don’t even get me started on the 2YA2YAO MV teaser, i literally wasn’t expecting to get hit with more content after i finished work today

[trystcne-blog]

at a glance ;

from BROOKLYN.

SCHOLARSHIP student.

owns,  and loves,  a motorbike.

17 years old.

poor  ( only by manhattan terms )

ARTIST

not shit dan humphrey

biography ;

               never too far from the art room, TRYSTANE MARTELL is a picture perfect representation of the BROOKLYN spirit. he’s the safe bad boy,   from the wrong side of the tracks, but smart enough to have his SCHOLARSHIP fully funded.  usually found with a pencil behind his ear and a sketchpad between his fingers,  he manages to look cool even in a place he will never truly belong.  he’s not rich.  his family don’t scramble for money, but in a place like this, even he looks like a pauper. daddy owns a bookshop,  independent and running well,  his family are the artistic presence that make everyone else question just how deep they could possibly be.  with eyes that seem to see all and a mouth that doesn’t move until he is convinced he knows the truth,  TRYSTANE is a mystery to most of the students at his school.  he is a way to rebel,  a safe way to kick back against the society that they’ve found themselves in,  without feeling like they ever have to leave it.

              he’s got his sights set ahead of him and a portfolio in his hand.  he’s going to be the one who puts the MARTELLS on the map. he’s going to art school, he’s going to be one of the greats and there is NO ONE who will stand in his way.  he doesn’t know why anyone really pays attention to him,  least of all why he would be end up on GOSSIP GIRL (  though he does figure that being publicly called SCHOLARSHIP does fit  )  suddenly,  he’s out of the shadows,  looked at as more than just the boy that they date when they want to shove a middle finger up to the world that they were raised in.  his world is about to get rocked,  he just doesn’t know how much yet.

important relationships ;

rhaenys targaryen  ;  cousin.

shennen clegane ;  best friend

sansa stark ;  baby mama   ( doesn’t know )

[zxiiden]

[ @illvssa​ ]

With a glass of champagne grasped in one hand and a silk robe draped loosely over his tattooed body, Zaiden Hendricks found himself wandering the expanse of his Upper East Side penthouse with mild boredom. His dark, raven-black locks were haphazard and messy and he hardly noted the sound of shuffling from the open door of his bedroom, instead letting out a tired yawn as he paused before the glass window overlooking the city’s skyline. With his brother out on what he assumed was another secret rendezvous with their friend, Julia, Zaiden couldn’t help the subtle smirk that graced his features. He raised his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip of the champagne before the ding of the elevator caught his attention.

One brow quirked as he glanced over his shoulder. As the metal doors slid open, he couldn’t help the way his smug smirk broadened as ice blue eyes caught sight of the familiar brunette that hurriedly allowed herself into his penthouse. “Well, well, Illyssa. Pleasure to have your company this fine morning,” he drawled slowly, tugging his robe on properly before raising his glass to her in a mock toast. “Though if you’re looking for your boyfriend, I’m saddened to inform you that he had a bit of business to take care of. You’re welcome to wait for him with me if you like, of course.” Every word that left his lips was coated thick in a goading, sarcastic tone just as his gaze tore away from her. As if one cue, the call-girl he had stay over the night before shuffled out of his room, already bustling for the door as he exhaled a breathy chuckle, concealing the curl of his lips behind the rim of his glass.

“Would you like anything? A drink, perhaps?” He drawled out once the call-girl disappeared behind the elevator doors, blue eyes once more resting on her.

[cortanawield]

GOSSIP GIRL HERE. YOUR ONE AND ONLY SOURCE INTO THE SCANDALOUS LIVES OF MANHATTAN’S ELITE. 

long time no blog, upper east siders. have you missed me as much as i’ve missed writing about you? gone are the days of our queen b and s, but i’m still here, and i’m sharing all your dirty secrets. if you thought you’d escaped your posh prep schools without me, you’d be wrong. you see, i’ve been watching, and i know everything you want to keep hidden. keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, upper east siders. 

YOU KNOW YOU LOVE ME. XOXO, GOSSIP GIRL.

GUIDELINES: this is a small group verse based around gossip girl, and taking place in the new elite’s college years. 

1. to join, please submit the follow application HERE.

NAME: AGE: FC: COLLEGE OF CHOICE: here is a list of colleges in new york city!  GOSSIP GIRL NICKNAME:  THE BIG SECRET: what do they not want gossip girl to find out about? this will stay private... for the time being.  MUN NAME/AGE/PRONOUNS: DISCORD: there will be a discord chat, but you’re not required to join if you don’t want to.

2. please be active! i don’t expect you to be on every day and every night, but group verses thrive on activity.

3. be respectful of your fellow roleplayers. we’re all here to have fun, but please, keep ooc drama out of the verse.

4. due to the nature of the plot, this verse is 18+.

5. you’re welcome to play as many characters as you can juggle.

6. track these tags: iwalyooc & iwalyic

7. please post a short bio/bullet point fact sheet about your character after joining the verse. 

THE LUCKY ONES: 

EMMA CARSTAIRS, 20, gabriella wilde, columbia, blondie, played by hales ( she/her, 24 ) || @cortanawield 

CLARY FRAY, 21, kat mcnamara, berkeley college, firecracker, played by hales ( she/her, 24 ) || @morgensternblood

JESSAMINE LOVELACE, 20, olivia rose keegan, socialite, rich witch, played by hales ( she/her, 24 ) || @luxuriiants

TYLER LOCKWOOD, 22, michael trevino, nyu, quarterback, played by court ( she/her, 27 ) || @lastlockwood

HOPE MIKAELSON, 19, danielle rose russell, columbia, new orleans, played by court ( she/her, 27 )

CHASE STEIN, 20, gregg sulkin, columbia, prodigy, played by holly ( she/her, 25 ) || @mythborne

CAROLINE FORBES, 21, candice king, nyu, barbie, played by kaja ( she/her, 25) || @objectivelyhot

SOPHIE PARK, 20, lee suhyun, nyu, sunshine, played by kaja ( she/her, 25) || @madeherkind

QUINN FABRAY, 21, dianna agron, columbia, q, played by kara ( she/her, 25 ) || @mysticalquinnfabray

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

💊- what is something that you wish you knew before you started writing?🎈- what’s a spoiler for a wip or series?😂- a line that made you laugh out loud🎀- favorite story

💊- what is something that you wish you knew before you started writing?

BACK UP EVERYTHING!!!!  I lost a 100k word novel when I was 16 because my computer crashed (I also lost all of the pictures from my best summer ever)

🎈- what’s a spoiler for a wip or series?

Two for the price of one: Katarina Aliano can lift Mjolnir, and the entire final endgame battle in Skyscraper is set to Radioactive (I’ve already written half of it as a songfic, I just need to go back and write Kat undusting)

😂- a line that made you laugh out loud

I can’t even lie, I’ve had a lot of fantastic lines but “The alpha packed warned you they were coming? Like ‘Derek, we’re coming. Xoxo, Gossip Girl” (Arianne Martin) and “So what’s your favourite?  Iced Americano?  I hear they’re a national treasure” (Bianca Davis to Steve Rogers) are the most iconic things I’ve ever written, eat your heart out Shakespeare

🎀- favourite story

The entire Seeking Weakness verse, hands down!  I don’t know yet if that’s because it’s genuinely the best writing I’ve done (cough, baby please come home is a literary masterpiece) or because it’s the only project I have that’s really advanced past the exposition stage, but it’s my pride and joy

Send Me Emojis

[artificialqueens]

Sunshine, and Glory Too (Trixya) - Chapter 1 - fannyatrollop

AN: This is technically my first time posting here… not counting the collab fic with Grey-Darling because that Earth angel posts it up for both of us. I’m an independent woman this go around. On AO3, I have a nasty habit of going in and picking at my work constantly, so my writing gets a lot of post-production edits that way. It’s why I don’t sleep much. I don’t think I’d be able to do that here, so AQ will forever get my fics after they’ve been finished/edited to death and back.

So here I am, bearing a quality-controlled sort-of Princess fic. xoxo, Gossip Nya.

The night before the twins were born, their mother dreamt that one of her daughters would accomplish something truly wonderful. She always said that the moment Pearl was born, she got the feeling it would be her.

Unfortunately, Trixie was the one she pushed out after she had filled her quota for love. This sad fact was even reflected in her naming choices: Pearl the precious gem, and Beatrice, after a dead grandmother. Her words and behaviour to her daughters as they grew would only prove the point further; as far as the Baroness Liaison-Mattel was concerned, her daughter Trixie was an afterthought.

Trixie consoled herself by thinking that all her mother’s waffle about Pearl being born special was just the way she justified her blatant favouritism, and for her part, Pearl thought so too. She thought it was absolutely hilarious that she, out of the two of them, was supposed to be the special one.

“She tells people I’m quiet because I’m thoughtful, not because I can barely speak my own native tongue,” Pearl would say, on those odd nights when they would share a bed like they did when they were little girls. “Seriously, Trix, I’m the family idiot. You’re the one I’d be watching if I was her.”

“But you’re the pretty one,” Trixie would respond, gently poking the tip of her sister’s nose.

Poor Pearl never wanted to be exalted above her. She always seemed to be apologizing for her existence, and though Trixie secretly thought it was the least she could do, Pearl had always been a wonderful sister and friend to her. When Pearl brought herself down to cheer her up, Trixie would naturally build her back up.

They had lived that way all their lives. Having no one else, the sisters could not afford to be rivals. Something like real love existed between them, bravely making cracks in the resentment their mother’s treatment would naturally create.

Trixie was no angel. She was capable of feeling jealousy towards Pearl. But in the end, when nobody else cared to, it was Pearl who held her hand, and that mattered a great deal.

***

For all her talk about being an idiot, Pearl had accomplished at least one important thing in their short lives. If it wasn’t for her, they probably wouldn’t be the crown princess’ ladies in waiting.

It wouldn’t have been possible at all without their mother’s aggressive push to involve her daughters in high society. Though the Liaison-Mattels were only rich in status nowadays, the baroness had the tenacity of someone who never did take well to the loss of her husband’s fortune, which she spoke of as if it was simply misplaced under a cushion rather than gambled away through a vice passed down his noble line for generations. Wherever the money had gone, they were still landed aristocrats and there was no reason to behave lower than their rank allowed. Besides, until the girls’ father actually landed himself in debtor’s prison it really wasn’t all that bad. They could show themselves among their kind of people.

By this logic, Pearl and Trixie were perfectly worthy of being presented as companions to Princess Violet, heiress apparent to the throne, on the occasion of her heading off to the Royal Academy for Royal Ladies. Her Royal Highness had decreed that she wished to mingle with the nobility, so that she might get to meet other young ladies, and choose her companions according to her own taste. Naturally, a grand ball at the royal palace was in order.

There was some fun involved in preparing for the ball. The girls were both well-versed in breathing life into old gowns, for it was not always within their means to commission new ones for the season’s big events. Pearl carefully restored their mother’s old debutante gown, and Trixie, once she had recovered from nearly suffocating on the dust she had disturbed by producing it for her use, went to work on one of her namesake grandmother’s party dresses.

Beatrice the Elder had, reportedly, been very fashionable in her time, but the aggressive pastel ruffles that threatened to swallow the dress whole were no longer au currant. Even so, Trixie did not have the heart to get rid of them, not completely. She liked the way the dress made her look like a cloud, as light as she could possibly claim to be. Her body was not shown to advantage in the sleek styles favoured by the fashionable crowd, anyhow.

Neither of them expected anything to come out of being presented to the princess. For Pearl and Trixie, the evening’s excitement was based solely on the simple fact that they would be going somewhere. They did not foresee that their family would be contacted with the news that Pearl had been selected as Princess Violet’s new lady-in-waiting.

It puzzled Pearl, for she had only exchanged some brief words with the princess, about music. Her cheeks got pink when she recalled this brief conversation to Trixie, who had left her alone to go on a quest for refreshments when the interaction had taken place.

Being a small kingdom, news traveled fast, and they eventually came to know that it was only Pearl who had been selected as the princess’ companion. Violet was known to be decisive, to know exactly what she wanted and what she wouldn’t abide by, so as soon as she expressed her inclination that was that. Though she had every right to be like this, her actions still created a buzz among the privileged. The princess was, after all, entitled to having as many ladies as she pleased. It was strange for her to only come away from the evening with one. There were whispers about the princess being confused, behaving like a prince choosing a bride.

If that really was the case, it wouldn’t be surprising. Violet had been brought up like a prince in many ways, with full knowledge that she would rule on her own right when the time came. Many a frustrated adviser to the king had expressed worries about the day their first queen regnant would ascend to the throne, as she was already proving rather inclined to getting her own way.

The Baroness Liaison-Mattel, in her infinite wisdom as a well brought-up lady, and one who was acquainted with the gossip about the princess’ character, had the gall to insist on her second daughter tagging along into service as a condition for taking on her precious Pearl.

“They’re twins,” she said, coolly staring the royal envoy in the face as a torrent of sweat sprouted from his brow. “Surely I’m not expected to have them separated, am I?”

The princess delivered another sizable shock by taking them both without much of a fuss. Trixie was sure she could thank Pearl whispering into her ear on her behalf for the opportunity, rather than her mother’s impertinence. She felt more comfortable thanking the sister she liked for her good fortune, rather than the mother she resented. Her assumption was confirmed upon her first meeting with Violet.

“I hear you’re clever,” she said, addressing her words to the wall rather than to Trixie. “And that you’re an accomplished musician.”

Trixie nodded, and then remembered that Violet was not glancing in her direction. Trixie wondered if she held all of her conversations this way, or if she only did this with people she felt were beneath her.

“I have been said to be those things,” she said.

Violet took a lengthy pause.

“I should like to hear you someday,” she said, finally, giving her a quick glance. “I do like music.”

***

The Academy was located at what may as well have been the very end of the Earth, especially to a lady as unaccustomed to travel as Trixie. A carriage led to a ship, which led to yet another carriage on a journey requiring frequent stops. Pearl slept through most of the ordeal, often slumped against Her Royal Highness herself. Violet would venture to run a tender finger through her hair when she didn’t think Trixie was looking, or when she was too weary to care that she saw.

Trixie was only able to rest when her body could not physically maintain its refusal to sleep without the basic comforts she was used to, a common ground she shared with Violet. The two of them would share insomniac silences while Pearl slept and Violet’s fae companion, Fame, had drifted off to attend to business neither of them were privy to. Sometimes they attempted conversation, but they mostly gazed out of their respective windows and waited for another member of their party to take charge of brightening the air. When she chose to be among them, Fame proved to be the most eager to step up to that challenge.

At approximately five hundred years of age, Fame was apparently considered a tad young to be part of a royal entourage by the judgment of her people. She normally looked and behaved as if she was of age with the rest of the group, though she had known Violet since she was an infant and sometimes shared stories about her childhood antics. According to Violet, Fame looked exactly as she did then when she was small. She would carry her in her arms to soothe her if she hurt herself, and rock her to sleep while singing lullabies in the fae tongue. Even though she was told not to coddle her, Fame persisted in her gentle ways with the young princess. As her presence was more of a boon to the king than it was to Fame, disciplining her for ignoring his wishes was not really an option.

Trixie had never met a faerie, nor had she shared any contact with magical beings before entering royal service, so she couldn’t really say she had any expectations about Fame. She hadn’t been certain she’d get to meet her at all.

Her knowledge of the fae folk implied that they would only bother to interact with humans if an effort was made to attract them. Trixie wouldn’t have been surprised if Fame had refused to appear before her, but appear she did. She would speak to Trixie when Pearl and Violet were too caught up in the camaraderie they had fallen into ever since they met, and, having noted her discomfort, offered to put her to sleep at various points. She swore her magic was perfectly safe, and that she was skilled enough not to accidentally put her in an eternal sleep, but Trixie would always decline and then regret her choice, vowing to accept the next time Fame offered her help.

Fame told Trixie all she knew about the Academy, to help her pass the time.

Essentially, Trixie learned, it had been established as a place to allow princesses from a remarkably large geographical reach to mingle. Princesses generally receive plenty of education at home, so there would have to be something more in it for royal families to send their daughters abroad in such large numbers. A place where a sisterhood of princesses could emerge, it was assumed, would make diplomacy an easier task, and create alliances that would otherwise be impossible. It was known that women were the relationship builders of the world.

The founder was rumoured to be some sort of fae. Fame was certain they were, for they were able to produce fae companions for exceptionally beautiful girls of low birth and essentially transform them into marriageable princesses. There was no way these special cases could be so blessed without the help of a benevolent fae. Even someone like Trixie, gifted with rank though not with gold, would never have been able to attract one with her family’s resources.

“Which is a shame, really,” Fame had said, toying with one of Trixie’s curls. “I’m certain you and your sister are more than worthy on your own merits. Alas, my kind are far too fond of gold and other shiny things. Precious few would be wise enough to know what a pleasure it would have been to help raise such charming girls as the two of you.”

Trixie hadn’t known how to respond to that, had simply nodded and thanked her. The look in Fame’s eyes betrayed her true age. It was a bit overwhelming to be under Fame’s gaze. To Trixie, it felt like her mother might look at her like that if she ever decided to love her.

***

The Academy’s grounds were a whole universe unto themselves, with a grand palace as its centerpiece. Upon entry, the palace would prove to be larger on the inside than the already mammoth structure they beheld as they approached. Pearl grasped Trixie’s hands in hers as they pulled in, gasping at the sprawling campus.

If there were stories of lonesome ladies simply disappearing in its halls, or somewhere in the surrounding wilderness, it would be reasonable to assume that they were true. Though she was one of Violet’s official companions, Trixie was more or less left to fend for herself from early on. She was told that she had all the freedom in the world to carry on with her days how she pleased, and that she would be sent for if her presence was required. As she was seldom needed, she had plenty of time to risk being swallowed up by her temporary home.

Pearl settled into her role as the princess’ companion with far more fervour than Trixie did. Perhaps that was to be expected. Violet liked to keep her close, and the longer they were all together the clearer it became that Pearl liked it too. She started sleeping in Violet’s chamber a few days after their arrival, and seemed rather pleased to do so. The space in her and Trixie’s shared bedroom became a sore sight with how lonesome it was. Trixie tolerated it, though, as there was no challenge to her in growing accustomed to a state of affairs that had been clear from the beginning. She was no stranger to being unwanted, to the point where it was almost a comfortable feeling.

Still, Pearl had been Trixie’s constant companion since birth, and she missed the way it was when they only had each other. Trixie missed being a sister. She wished her twin had not been taken away from her.

When she thought of it that way, though, she would be struck with guilt. All things considered, Violet had been rather gracious in her treatment of her. It would benefit their family if the future queen decided Pearl was her favourite, and Trixie prayed their mother wouldn’t spoil that with her personality.

Not long after their arrival, a new member was added to Violet’s entourage, easing Trixie’s loneliness a little.

Kim was the most promising young seamstress in their kingdom, and had been selected to take charge of the crown princess’ wardrobe. Violet had a keen interest in fashion. Her wardrobe was enormous, and would only continue to grow. As part of her duties, Kim would sit with the princess and create new designs for gowns, with her creative input. She would often be sent to gather materials, and spent a large portion of her time sewing, though she was mercifully allowed to procure an assistant or two for particularly difficult projects. Kim was a true prodigy, quite adept at going it alone most times, but even someone with golden hands like hers sometimes needed a little help.

Trixie would offer her services when Kim required them, and sometimes even when she did not, so they could spend more time together. Kim had a room set aside for her use, but when she was not abroad with the freedom to chase rumours of some wonderful new type of fabric and a bottomless budget, she would share a bed with Trixie. It was almost like being a child again, sharing secrets with her sister until the sun rose back up, or until they both nodded off.

“If I had my way,” Kim said, on a particularly silly night. “My eyes would cover half my face.”

Trixie had laughed out loud at that.

“You could ask Fame to make it so. I might do it too, then.”

As her presence was only specifically requested when her princess wished to hear her play, it didn’t take long for Trixie to start feeling like a useless charge. Even so, she was determined not to fall into an eternal sulk. It was not because she valued cheerfulness, or had a particular wish to be agreeable to the people around her. Trixie had always had a contrary streak. If the world insisted on putting her in a situation where it mattered little if she lived or died, letting that get her down would be akin to losing, and she was not going to stand for that. She may have been a fearsome general in another life, or a very stubborn mule.

So she devoted more time to her lute, and her harp, than she ever had at home. She had free rein of the library, and had as much paper as she desired at her disposal to write if she so chose, even if she wasn’t a great poet or thinker. She laid in the sun and let freckles bloom on her skin, enjoying the lack of a shrill voice telling her it made her look too low class. Sometimes, she joined Violet and Pearl in their amusements, and made the most out of having Kim nearby when she did. She focused more on her freedom, and less on her desire for someone to share it with.

***

Written into the code of conduct at the Academy was a truly noble attempt to create a semblance of equality among its many residents. This was mostly meant to benefit the special cases, those girls who had been so charitably plucked from obscurity in order to keep royal bloodlines fresh and inspire the dreams of the downtrodden. To discourage divisions over rank, every young lady within the walls of the academy, whoever they may be, should be referred to as one would a noble lady. Violet and Trixie, different as they were in rank, would be known as Lady Violet and Lady Beatrice to those outside their circle.

This didn’t change the reality of the situation; some ladies were destined to wield more power than others, and this was not hidden in the least. The size of a lady’s entourage played a great part in distinguishing those born with a golden crown in their future from those who could only weave them out of wildflowers and dream if not blessed with divine intervention. Violet was an unusual case in that her personal household was rather small, for she did not wish to be responsible for too many souls when there was no need. Bringing a personal pastry chef, for instance, was permitted to her, but it would be a display of status rather than a real necessity. Equipping their daughters with all the luxuries they did not need was a show of strength, a kingdom’s assertion that they had riches enough to waste on their precious princesses.

Violet preferred to show strength through her own regal bearing and lack of concern with proving herself, but the same could not be said of all her peers. She became fast friends with a Lady Valentina, who boasted one of the most extravagant entourages at the Academy. Her court away from home included a full band, three dressmakers, and one individual whose occupation was to provide fresh roses for her suites every other day. She had five identically-dressed noble ladies whose sole purpose was to follow her silently wherever she roamed. They were called The Five Lady Marias, because even their names matched.

Lady Valentina had a personal pleasure barge, complete with a rower. She was gracious enough to allow Violet, along with both Trixie and Pearl, aboard for a sunny afternoon on the campus lake. The water was uncommonly pretty and clear. Trixie liked watching the fish go about their business as the barge moved over the water with the speed and urgency of a tortoise. There was no possible destination available to them, but the lake was large enough that it was difficult to see the opposite end from shore, so they had room to float lazily.

From their position, they could see Valentina’s ladies waiting at shore, content to fan themselves and play cards on a blanket laid out for them to sit on. Trixie had spotted the Lady Adore taking her daily swim; a mermaid princess, she found it taxing to keep a human form for as long as she would need to if she ventured a full day on land. She once said that she longed for the sea like nothing else, but as long as she was in water once a day she could make do. Sometimes she could even be found there twice in one day. She would search for and wave cheerfully at the boating party whenever she rose from the depths, the patches of scales that were always visible on her skin gleaming in the sunlight.

That day, Lady Adore was joined by another lady, one Trixie was not acquainted with. Trixie watched the girl jump into the water with a whoop and a giant splash, while her fae companion conjured up a plush chair to sit in. Like Fame, this faerie chose a human form, appearing as a heavy set woman with shocking orange hair. She shouted as her charge splashed some water her way, but they seemed to be friendly.

Trixie strained to get as good a look at the girl as she could, oddly intrigued by the stranger. She did this until it felt too silly to continue, too silly and a little mortifying. She guided herself back to her company, which she had parted with momentarily to shove her nose into the affairs of others. They had been discussing music while her mind was away.

“I am still at a loss as to why you haven’t brought your own musicians from home, my dear,” Lady Valentina said, the air sweetened by the musical stylings of her country’s best lute player. “You’re a curious creature. You have such a great opportunity to show off your people’s talents, and yet you leave them at home.”

“You could always visit,” Violet said, with her customary inability to make eye contact with the person she is speaking with. Granted, Valentina often fell into that habit as well.

“Lady Beatrice is very talented.”

Trixie sat in shocked silence. She remained so while Pearl murmured her confirmation that Trixie was, indeed, musically gifted, and rattled off the instruments she had learned in her efforts to while away her childhood. She wasn’t used to being singled out by Violet, much less complimented.

Valentina fixed her eyes on Trixie, along with the wide smile she always wore, one that never quite reached her eyes.

“Lady Beatrice, could you please play for us?” she asked, gently.

Trixie felt Pearl squeeze her hand, and caught Violet looking at her with a small smile on her face. She gulped, but nodded her agreement, and quickly found herself holding the lute Valentina’s court musician had been playing, which had been directed her way with a wordless gesture from his mistress.

Though her hands shook at first, Trixie loved music dearly, and when she concentrated on the song she wanted to play she was able to shed her nerves. She chose a traditional song, one that had always calmed and comforted her when she heard it before learning to play herself.

When she finished, she was met with Valentina’s enthusiastic applause, and a surprising spark of life in her normally cold eyes.

“Brava, Lady Beatrice!” she shouted, without tiring from the applause. “Could you play another? Lady Violet, did you know she was so accomplished when you took her on?”

“I had a reliable source,” replied Violet, with a fond glance at Pearl.

Trixie hoped she wasn’t blushing. She agreed to play again, had to admit she enjoyed the attention.

“Aja!” Valentina called out, until the most original looking girl manifested in a shimmer next to her. “Could you please make the sound of Lady Beatrice’s music carry better? I’d like it if my ladies could hear it too.”

Trixie chose a song she knew to be Violet’s favourite. She let herself be absorbed into her playing, in the sound of the music and the way her hands felt like they were gently guided by a supernatural force. She wondered if she truly was talented, or if she had a guardian she could not see showing her the way.

She felt a hand settle firmly on her shoulder to shake her from her trance. Pearl motioned to the water, where Adore was peeking up at them.

“Hullo,” she said. “Got a message for Lady Beatrice.”

“Go on,” Trixie said, smiling back at her. There was something about Adore’s easy manner that just made her smile.

“Lady Katya, the one waving at us over there, well, she just wanted you to know she really liked your music,” said Adore. “Wouldn’t rest until I came all the way here to tell you.”

Trixie watched the girl on the shore as she waved with both arms back at her, and cupped her mouth with her hands to cheer at her. She must have looked awfully stupid, for she eventually felt a splash of cool water hit her face. Adore must have put her back into it.

“I’ll tell her thank you, yeah?” Adore offered, sticking her tongue out at Trixie.

Trixie nodded her assent.