#CURSEPLAY.

[sordidery]

“yeah. . .” a warhead travels around her mouth. she used to have a sour candy every day, practically prescribed by taffy, just to cope with the hordes of mindless zombies around her. 'it'll shock your system into being, like, normal!' she throws her backpack to the ground in front of her, actually savoring the sour flavor, her eyebrows knotting together. “i don’t enter pacts over stupid things. i think they’re kinda life or death, yknow?” that might be the most words she’s ever strung together in front of paris. lisa’s not used to having anything to say, and now that she does, she’s not supposed to say anything about it. it feels wrong to let taffy take all the credit for her creature’s vogue-like style instincts, but she figures keeping the secret is more important. besides, she has to be used to lisa's lacking conversational style by now.

the girl only glances over at them, hands already fiddling with her locker combination. the rest of the school is looking at her for the first time, but paris is looking at her different. she feels different. still gangly and awkward, but her hands wild, whirling hands are feminine and her poorly done make up is stylish. lisa curls a frizzy piece of hair around her fingers with one hand, opens her locker with the other, pleased with the looks she’s fielding. no one she’s actually wanted to have a conversation with has looked at her like that.

“i- um. needed a change.” she swings open her locker, unceremoniously shovels notebooks into her bag, wide eyes sneaking a look over her shoulder at her friend. “d’you, like, like it?”

@sordidery 🖤’d for a starter. [ for lisa. ]

❝ you look . . . ❞ paris pauses to let their eyes travel up and down lisa's frame again. ❝ uh, different, ❞

not necessarily a bad different, though the bewilderment on their face may be indicative of such a train of thought. it's just that they've never seen lisa so . . . dressed up before. she's standing taller than usual, eyes a little wider, more alert. paris must look sleepy in comparison. they fiddle with their locker combo for another second, which would be easier to do if they could take their eyes off her.

people are definitely looking at them. paris can feel the eyes of their classmates boring into the back of her head, which makes her want to book it down the hall. normally, no one pays them any mind unless they're looking for some freak girls to pick on. paris gets it a little worse, they think, 'cause taffy improves lisa's social capital a smidge. that, and the fact that she's actually really pretty, which paris would not describe themselves as.

she seems to be taking advantage of those looks now, if her new dress is any indication. paris finally manages to open her locker, swallowing as she reaches inside to grab a few books.

❝ did you lose a bet to your sister or something ? some kind of makeover pact ? ❞

[seoafin]

happy kinktober (2.4k)

stsg x fem!reader

MDNI; threesome, mfm, pronebone, overstimulation, toys, mating press, marathon sex, c-curseplay............stsg get off to being married (they refer to themselves as your husbands), breeding kink, restraining, stsg absolute menaces warning

18+ only

You cum again for the fourth time in the last hour with a long, muffled cry. Satoru greedily takes in the sight of your legs trembling as you drip onto the sheets, the folds of your cunt pulsing the long vibrating silicone embedded deep into you. He can see the walls of your pussy tighten in an attempt to push out the intrusion, to relieve the overstimulation, but it fails.

Suguru doesn't even look at you, seemingly engrossed in the book in his lap, but Satoru can tell Suguru's patience is waning. His eyes trace the line of words down the page at a speed slow enough to tell Satoru that his interests lie outside of the book.

Mainly, in your spread body, forced open by a curse of Suguru's as the toy he placed in you an hour prior overwhelms you to the brink.

Satoru watches the black tendrils gyrate around the length of your thighs, completely exposing you to them. Suguru had placed you in a particularly humiliating position, ass raised to the air, face planted in the sheets, arms and hands bound by a black rope like entity Suguru had chanced upon during a mission a couple of years ago. Satoru can almost feel the tightness around his own wrists, the memory of it binding his own legs, and he grows even harder, cock straining against his pants.

It's perverted, it's perverse, watching the curse curl around your naked, glistening body, caressing you like a lover while you cry out for them. It's all Suguru in the end. The curses are a part of him, in a way that Satoru doesn’t blink at.

It’s different when someone else touches you, with an ease that signifies a lack of understanding for their position. You are not someone who can be casually touched anymore. Not by any man that isn’t them. 

You breathe out a sob. You've given up trying to upright yourself with your latest orgasm, and the tentacles dig into your flesh as you let yourself fall limp, your exhaustion evident. You've made a mess of the sheets, and all Satoru can think about is having you make an even bigger one.

Suguru closes his book.

Satoru grins. Without another word he shrugs off his shirt, and unbelts his pants.

When Suguru sits on the bed next to you, he easily pulls out the toy from you, glinting and wet with your juices, and you exhale shakily, relieved. The curse shrinks away at its master’s presence until it's only wrapped around your wrists, trapped behind your back. Suguru turns you around, and the two of them gaze at your weary body, your tear stained face, for a little longer.

“Have Satoru and I been neglecting you?” Suguru asks lightly, knuckles brushing the wetness from your cheek. His voice takes on a consolingly sweet murmur, “We’ve been busy lately, haven’t we.”

A repeat cycle of missions and meetings and days, seeing Suguru’s face in passing, and yours not at all. You’ve been holing yourself in your apartment for the last couple of days coaxing that hellcat of yours out of its place underneath the couch. As if sensing the approaching move, it had refused to come out, distressing you greatly. But Satoru is a new man, with patience and generosity to spare. He’ll endure that horrible ugly cat of yours (which looks nothing like him) that you refuse to be without, the monotony of missions and meetings, the constant squawking of the higher ups, if only to come home to you and Suguru at the end of the day.

And the rings of your fingers.

He’s a married man now, after all.

Everything changes when a man gets married, he thinks, looking at you. For better or worse, you’ve given yourself to them, unaware that they’ve also given themselves to you.

You blink, staring up at them with confusion marring your face. “N-no…?”

Suguru smiles. You balk, as if finally understanding where this conversation is heading. Satoru has to give you some points though, it’s taken quicker than it once would’ve for you to understand.

“That’s a shame,” Suguru breathes, “Satoru and I missed you,” he trails a finger down the valley of your breasts, and you shudder, squeezing your eyes tight as your nipples perk in response. Satoru can imagine your wrists straining against the confines of your binds.

“Aren’t you lucky,” Satoru crows, with a wide grin, enjoying the wide eyed panic settling on your face. “Having not one, but two husbands that miss you so diligently.”

“I missed you two too!” You blurt out, embarrassment alight on your face, more for the predicament you seem to be in than the words itself. Satoru could listen to you say you missed him over and over, if only you’d indulge him. It seems to him these are the only moments you’re most truthful to yourself. You never understand, not fully. You’ve always rationalized their love in ways it doesn’t make sense, especially when it’s never been rational in the first place. 

Satoru’s never been a picky man when it comes to you. He’ll take your increasingly distressed declarations of love over nothing. He knows they’re genuine at heart.

Maybe it’s all a last ditch attempt to placate them, to ask for forgiveness, but there’s only one way to placate the both of them, and it won’t be with words.

He moves closer to you, slotting himself between your legs as his hands spread you open once more. You make a small noise when you feel the hardness of him pressed to your slick sex.

“You’ll make Satoru jealous,” Suguru says, eyes glinting, as Satoru lines his cock up at your glistening entrance, “if you don’t give him as many orgasms as you gave that toy.”

“Double the amount,” he agrees with a heated look. Until you’re not thinking of anything but them. The way his cock splits you open and touches you in places only he can reach. He’ll make you feel so good you never entertain the attention of another man ever again. And then maybe he’ll grant you some reprieve. He can’t promise the same of Suguru though.

After Suguru, you might be a little too messed up to function properly for the next couple of days, but Satoru can think of nothing better than the two of them having you to themselves until reason inevitably grabs hold of you.

You try to squirm away, but to Satoru’s delight, black tendrils snake back around your thighs and hold you open. Suguru smiles innocently.

“I’m…” you hiccup, squeezing your eyes shut, “sorry…”

“I know,” Suguru says, settling into the bed, and freeing his cock from his pants. Satoru watches his hand firmly grip the base of his leaking cock, and wonders if Suguru’ll let him suck him off after he finishes his turn with you.

Suguru pushes the hair from your face, and kisses your sweaty forehead.

Your previous orgasms make it easier to slip into you, and Satoru sighs when the familiar wet heat of your pretty pussy sucks him in. Nothing in the world compares to the feeling of when he and Suguru fuck you together, in seperate holes, or one, but this comes pretty close.

“Ngh…” you moan, no doubt already sore and overextended as he pushes into you, past the lingering tightness. If Satoru didn’t know better, you’d be a virgin with how tightly your walls cling to him, but he knows he and Suguru have thoroughly divested you of that title long ago.

Satoru hums, stilling himself inside of you, letting you really feel him, despite the urge to wildly thrust. You lay almost limp before him, blinking away the wetness in your eyes. He smiles. “I guess I’ll just have to show you how much your husband missed you, yeah?”

Without another word of warning, he pulls out, and thrusts into you fully. You choke on your breath as he begins to fuck you in earnest, letting his cock drag against your folds before touching that part of you inside that he knows makes you lightheaded. His hands are wrapped around your waist, the black tendrils doing the work of keeping your hands bound, and your legs spread, forcing you down to him at the same timing of his thrusts.

You’re already on the cusp of another orgasm, sobbing, lips trembling in a way Satoru is tempted to bite. A few more thrusts and you’re shaking, squeezing around him as everything gets even wetter. It takes everything not to bury himself to the hilt, brush against your cervix, and come inside of you. 

His gaze drops to your cunt, to where the two of you are connected, and his blood runs hotter. Suguru is watching, pumping his wet length, chest starting to heave as he approaches what Satoru knows won’t be his final orgasm of the night. He’ll be inside you before long, painting your insides white, their seeds mixing into a mess inside you. 

The three of you, together, always together. It gives him a high akin to violence, to know you’re indisputably theirs in a way nobody can say anything about anymore, even you. You gave that right away when you said yes.

The room is obscenely loud as he fucks into you, wet squelches and the slap of skin against skin. Your legs have gone limp, held up only by Suguru’s curse, and your breathing goes funny in a way that makes him even harder.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he grunts, sinking himself into the hilt once more, “neglecting your husbands.” He hasn’t even played with your clit yet, hasn’t really made you sorry like he knows he could, but you’re already approaching your next orgasm, and even he isn’t strong enough to let you come by yourself. “Don’t worry,” Satoru says breathily, “We’ll take our time with you tonight. Make up for lost time. You’ll indulge your husbands, huh?”

You don’t get a chance to answer, or even register his question.

His hips slam into yours with reckless abandon, fingers marking indents into your hips. Satoru watches your face twist, watches as you try to fight off your impending orgasm, watches the shameless pleasure on Suguru’s face when you start to become incoherent underneath him. He feels the vice tight squeeze of your cunt, and presses your raised thighs until they’re nearly level with your chest. With one final thrust, he comes inside of you, feels your pussy pulse with his release. Your feet on either side of his head twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You’re a pretty sight, nearly bent in half, half sobs escaping your mouth, his hands on both sides of your head, as he keeps your hips flush together. Every small movement sends the legs resting on his shoulder into overdrive. He meets Suguru’s gaze, trails his eyes down the flexing muscles of Suguru’s abdomen, to the painfully erect need between his open thighs.

Satoru snorts. Sometimes he can’t decide on whether or not Suguru is a masochist or a sadist. If he’s indulgent to the point of excess, then Suguru is restrained to the point of delayed gratification. 

You shiver when Satoru slips out of you, your leaking cunt a sticky mess. You look blankly serene, gazing up at the ceiling. Not a single thought in that head of yours, just the way he likes it. He and Suguru have always been of the opinion that you think too much. If he can give you quiet, then he’ll consider it one of his husbandly duties.

He almost feels bad for you when Suguru claims his seat, after giving him a long kiss. Satoru can’t help but reach and give Suguru’s cock a hard squeeze, relishing the harsh grunt that leaves his throat, and the warning nip of Suguru’s teeth against his neck.

You blink, as if regaining some semblance of cognizance, when Suguru’s hardness taps against your stomach, smearing it wet with precum.

You blink when Suguru brushes your face with his knuckles, takes your hand, adorned with the ring they had given you, entwines your fingers, and smiles.

-

Satoru watches as Suguru fucks you in a new position. It looks like punishment, and it must feel like punishment too. The rough, measured thrust of his hips slaps against your nearly limp form, a foamy white ring around his cock as he unrelenting spears into you. The weight of him against your back pushes your body deeper into the bed. Rivulets of come slide down the curve of your ass, dripping onto the sheets. 

You’ve long given up on trying to fight. Suguru had unbound your hands in what seemed as if it might be temporary forgiveness. But then you had tried to run away. Suguru can be capricious too, because after sighing earlier that he could be tempted into forgiveness with a few more direct ‘I love you’s’, he had decided then and there that you needed to be thoroughly chastened. Your wrists hadn’t left your back since. 

Suguru’s fingers are wrapped around your throat, with just enough effort to keep your head upright as he murmurs into your ear. 

When Satoru sticks two fingers in your mouth, and presses against your tongue, your jaw easily falls slack, drool pooling down his wrist. Your eyes are glazed over, any indication of consciousness in the slight shift of your breathing.

This might be the most fucked out Satoru has ever seen you. And he’s seen you in multiple, varying states of dissociation following sex. He feels his dick twitch in interest, a rush of blood following. A challenge it’d be, to bring you back to a world of awareness. To have you calling his name after you had been nearly unresponsive just minutes prior.

Suguru comes with an exhale, and you with a whimper as tears rush to the surface of your eyes, animating you back to life once more. Suguru spends the next few minutes rutting his hips into you, fucking their cum back into you with a vigor that tells Satoru that he’s thinking about children. 

The two of them have come inside of you so many times that Satoru thinks there isn’t a possibility of you not being pregnant. They’ve made a game of it, whose seed will be the first to take. You leak when Suguru leaves you. The curse enveloping your wrists dissolves into air. Suguru takes your wrists with his hands, and gently rubs his finger over them.

The two of them look with unabashed interest when Satoru pushes down on the slight distension of your lower stomach, and you leak even more, a mixture of your slick and their come onto the sheets. You blearily watch, unable to do much more.

Satoru’s eye catches on the glint of the pretty rock on your finger as he pets your hair. You’re theirs now. Formally and forever. 

Well, he thinks. They have all the time in the world.

[bnjmin]

there are so many people, it's too hot, and everyone is so fucking attractive. like, debilitatingly sexy. he hates la. were it not for paris being here, he'd happily make himself persona non grata for the entire fucking state of california.

he doesn't like coffee much - standard issue benjamin things - but that's what everyone does when they catch up with an old friend, right? get coffee? so he's sat across from them with a lemonade that he's almost certain the barista judged him for. (the barista who was also stupid good looking. it's like he's living inside a billboard.)

"so... how much of all that shit about you on the internet is true?"

starter for @curseplay

[deatheless]

@curseplay sent: just let me know what shape you want your pancakes in. / accepting.

she's getting more used to this by the day. surprisingly ( or unsurprisingly, considering the developments of the last few days ), it's happened much quicker than she thought. sometimes, she can hardly remember there was a time when paris and andie weren't around — when the apartment had been absent of the now near - constant hum of a guitar being played somewhere, and of the new abundance of fruit and meat slowly taking over the fridge, and of the warmth of someone always on the couch ready with open arms for her to drop into at the end of her shift. she can tell lauren feels it too, and while she'd be much less willing to admit it, she can tell she likes it too. her princess can pretend all she wants, but she's caught her in more than enough smiles to know how she really feels.

it makes her feel close to normal again. something that's probably pretty silly to think, considering the four of them are anything but normal, but there's a fullness in her chest she hasn't felt since it had bubbled out of her along with the last of her breath. it's not quite back to normal, but — she's starting to think it might be better.

one thing she's definitely gotten used to is waking up to breakfast being made, and the sweet smell tugging her out from under the covers this morning is no exception. mina pads into the kitchen, hands still clumsy from sleep reaching up to rub at her eyes as a smile slips across her face at the sight of paris posted up by the stove. ❛ morning to you too, ❜ mina says with a giggle, yawning through her words as she leans against the counter to watch them for a moment. paris' hair, longer than yesterday and starting to brush their collarbones again, is in a clumsy ponytail, and she recognizes the scrunchie. it's all very cute.

she sidesteps the counter and steps closer, arms wrapping softly around their waist from behind, and she rests her chin against their shoulder, peering down at the sizzling pan with a thoughtful hum. ❛ are they all shaped? or am i getting a special one? very cute, ❜ mina teases, lifting her head to press a soft kiss to her cheek as her own turn rosy. even if they've all been doing this more often, it still makes her blush. she tilts her head to look down at the pan again. ❛ surprise me. ❜ like she can predict their groan of just pick something before it comes, her lips split into a teasing grin. ❛ or do a frog. hyper - realistic, please. ❜

one hand drifts up to flick the end of paris' ponytail playfully, before she pulls away entirely to reach for the scrunchie and tug it out, dark hair tumbling down against her neck. as she gathers their curls away from their face in her hands to prep a new ponytail, careful not to pull too tight, she twirls one curl idly with her pinkie. ❛ i can go grab the scissors once we're done eating, if you want. it's starting to get long, huh? ❜

[winterbeheaded]

@curseplay liked .

riley was thrilled paris ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ , the night before still big and bright in her mind . not only did she get to see her perform for the first time , she got to meet her too . she had hoped her little tshirt would bring attention , create something for paris to remember her by - and it worked . she had kept the scrap of paper with her number on it and decided maybe riley could be interesting enough to get to know .

and despite the power of a thousand butterflies in her stomach , she knocks on the hotel door ; scared but excited beyond belief .

[bejewe13d]

@curseplay requested a song!

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤. it was a risk savannah's label was willing to take. she had proven herself in the pop scene and breaking out of that box was going to be tough. the musicians she worked with for her last album had backed out, not sure they agreed with the sound she wanted. lucky for savannah, her manager was able to scout out talent in time for rehearsals before needing to record.

the girl in front of her seamed familiar. maybe they had met in passing or savannah had seen some of her stuff. savannah takes a couple strides over to her, she had already met every one else playing for her today so she was the only one left. ❝ hey! ❞ she says in an up beat, sing song tone. ❝ i'm savannah! just wanted to thank ya for coming on such short notice! ❞ a pause as she decides if she should say something or not. ❝ i just have to say you look suuuuuuper familiar to me. ❞ well the words left her mouth before she could decide.

[fxglove]

@curseplay sent: i don't know how much i can tell you. / accepting.

❛ yeah, i get that. ❜

despite all the time they've spent together, orla doesn't know very much about paris. likewise, paris doesn't know very much about orla. not in a way that really tells anything, at least, beyond food and drink preferences, and that she's got a workout buddy for the first time in years, and that they're startlingly easy to talk to. she thinks they both kind of like it that way.

even if they don't talk about it, they can tell there's something paris is hiding — or maybe not hiding, that's not the right word. something she's avoiding. something she's running from, maybe.

( it didn't take long to recognize it through their behaviour. after all, she knows that deep down, she's doing the same thing. )

so when she'd leaned against the side of her couch, shook her hair out, and asked so why'd you come here, in the first place?, she'd expected a joke, or a reference to the long road trip they'd vaguely mentioned once or twice before. she hadn't expected the open, nervous hesitation in paris' voice. she's not really sure what's spurring them to talk now. maybe it's the same reason both of their cheeks are a little flushed.

❛ you don't have to say anything, if you don't want to, ❜ they say, wondering if paris can hear the clumsy attempt at damage control in their voice. if you don't want to. what if she does? her stomach flips a little at the thought. not at the idea of becoming closer, but ... she knows it doesn't need to be an exchange, but it would be fair, wouldn't it? two matching cracks in the walls between them instead of just one. orla hesitates, reaching for her glass to take what she hopes looks like a very casual sip, before she speaks again. here goes nothing. ❛ unless you want to. you ... can say whatever you feel okay with. if you want. ❜

[nuks]

STARTER CALL: @curseplay ! ˖* ft. kitty carlisle ☆

     Kitty's batting her lashes at Paris, her glossed, pouty lips in a sweet smile as Kitty drapes her arms over Paris' shoulders, drawing her closer. There's a twinkle in Kitty's eyes, her gaze soft- a harsh contrast to the ice that's for anyone other than Paris.     ❛❛   You know I love you, right?   ❜❜     She begins, tilting her head as she twirls a lock of Paris' hair around her manicured fingers. Kitty gets clingy sometimes- especially when she sees other girls fawning around Paris too much... Like she did tonight, after one of Paris' performances. 

     She knows Paris is hot, and Kitty's got her kitten claws in her, refusing to give them up or share them. Even now, Kitty catches someone looking their way with what Kitty knows is envy. Kitty's quick to smirk as she leans in, holding the person's gaze as she presses a kiss to Paris' lips.     ❛❛   You did so well tonight, baby.   ❜❜  

[v4vile-a]

paris harrow / @curseplay : 048, fairgrounds during a large event .

HE HADN'T BEEN TO THE FAIR since he was a kid. chris always associated it with his parents' version of fun, which was often the equivalent of sticking two fingers down your throat and -- you know. but there was an electricity to it that he'd missed. not only that, he was out of practice & fucking awful at the games.

‘ people do this for fun? ’ chris exhales, having missed the fifth and final soda bottle with the rings provided, ‘ there's a fucking soda stand right over there, fifty cents less! ’ paris, in comparison, was wildly good at everything and chris tried his hardest to remain fun & smiley.

he and paris eventually depart from the game, presumably onto the next, and chris sticks his v's up at the soda ring toss dude. a final, well-needed act of defiance.

[goofily-moved]

✉️ @curseplay asked: GAZE ― sender and receiver lock eyes across the room - for kitty!

         Kitty sighs to herself, arms folded over her small form as she leans against the wall behind her, her glossed lips in a tight, displeased purse. She hasn't had any luck sinking her kitten claws (as many have nicknamed her habit of clinging to people) into anyone tonight, as no one's garnered her attention properly. She just wants some company, damn it... Whether it be for partying or whatever. She's almost ready to call it a night when her wandering gaze locks with someone else's in an instantaneously intense staredown.

         Kitty's brows raise, and a soft blush warms her cheeks as she greedily takes in the stranger's attractive features, and a smirk is soon to curve her mouth as she decides right then and there she's found someone to keep her interest. She pushes herself off the wall in a fluid movement and makes sure to swing her hips just right on her way to the enticing stranger.      ❛❛   You almost look as bored as I am.   ❜❜     Kitty drawls as she approaches, eyes glimmering with unspoken interest. 

[curseplay]

@bnjmin: this mirror is gaslighting me. [ NOT ACCEPTING! ]

❝ — what the hell are you talking about, man ? ❞ they say bluntly, gaze downcast and focused on the strings of the guitar they're tuning. there's some humor in this . . . in the fact that it's taking ben longer than her to get ready. that they're "going out" at all. paris has coined the endeavor 'MISERABLE BASTARDS HIT THE TOWN!' just to give them some branding they can use should tonight prove to be a success.

they kind of assumed at first that ben was the type of dude to party on the weekends. this is probably only based on the fact that he's conventionally attractive for a guy, because he's not exactly a social butterfly. paris isn't either, but they're desperate to become one, and if they can drag ben along on that journey with them . . . score ! no matter where they end up, he's been promised a free meal at the diner for his efforts.

❝ you look fine, man. seriously, ❞ more than fine, actually. not in an I WANT YOU way, but in an I WANT TO LOOK JUST LIKE YOU way. paris squares their shoulders just a little and sets their guitar to the side. ❝ don't tell me you're getting cold feet. we made a deal, ❞

[denniisa]

@curseplay / starter call.

"oh great, it's you. what the hell do you want ?? can't you get good and drunk at your own bar ??"

[bnjmin]

you’re the coolest person i know. (:

accepting. @curseplay

which, is very suspicious. he fiddles with a sugar packet (just coffee today, his appetite is -- well, something he doesn't want to think about) while he frowns a little. then, "that's sad." the laugh leaves him, dies against the lip of the mug when he brings the ceramic to his mouth. "also... sweet? but mostly sad."

[deatheless]

@curseplay sent: i daydream about women sometimes. / accepting.

mina can tell from the moment paris speaks, from the floaty sound in her voice and the lingering slur from the drinks they'd had earlier that night, that she has no idea what she's really said. something in her chest twists anxiously, despite the hope she knows she probably should be feeling. but this isn't what she expected as a response to her apology, and she doesn't think it makes her feel much better.

( she just couldn't stop seeing the stricken look on paris' face before she'd stumbled away, leaving her alone with the rest of their classmates and a bottle pointed at a now - empty spot. even if she didn't really do anything, she had to say something. it was still because of her, wasn't it? she'd already rambled out an apology then, when paris had finally come back, but it didn't feel like enough. she could hardly even look at her, then. )

this doesn't really come as a surprise, not really. she's not blind. and it's not like paris has been particularly hiding it ( or at least she doesn't think she's been ), but it's the first real sort of confirmation she's gotten since they've started hanging out. people always talk, so she’s heard whispers even before the two of them became friends, but … well, she didn’t want to assume. or maybe she didn’t want to get her hopes up. but she didn't want to hear it like this, when she's not even sure if paris meant to say it at all.

there's a quiet sort of shame layered in their voice even now, and she wonders if it's her fault. i just don't want you to think i'm weird, they'd said, back at the party. you know everyone here thinks i'm weird, and i don't want you to think i'm weird. and mina's stomach had flipped so hard, just wanting the distress in paris' eyes to go away, that all she could think of to say in return was i like hanging out with you, which is ... hardly a response. it had worked in the moment, but now here they are, in paris' room, the air still a little bit buzzy and warm and full of something, and she still doesn't know what to say. she kind of just wants to hold her hand.

instead, she reaches for her water bottle with a nod, and bites the inside of her cheek. paris doesn't sound like she wants to talk about it, if she even knows she said it, so against her instincts, mina tries to change the subject instead. she nods towards paris' laptop, sitting on the bed in front of them. ❛ should we, um — do you wanna watch something? until my parents get here? ❜ she'd planned to walk home from paris', but her parents had insisted. if she'd known, she would've said yes when tommy asked if she wanted to be dropped off at home instead of coming to theirs. normally she'd love to stay, but ... it doesn't feel like paris really wants her here. ❛ you can pick. ❜

( part of her, the one still making her fingers twitch by her side, wonders : did you really mean weird? or was it in the place of something else? )

[crushsung]

🎁 and ☎️ !

my experience in the roleplaying community.

🎁 what platform i started roleplaying on. very sad to say that it was facebook. but happy to say it's where i met one of my best friends (you know who you are).

☎️ my first character i ever roleplayed. hit-girl from kick-ass. i stand by that being a great choice and i would do it again (but less cringe).

[loetise]

🎃 <3

halloween costumes with allie <3, not accepting cause they're sooo late.  ˎˊ˗

MEGAN AND GRAHAM FROM I'M A CHEERLEADER!!! WAILING!!!! potentially barbie and ken from the new movie in their cowboy outfits with allie as barbie and paris as ken, so paris can wear a vest. also woody and bo peep from toy story, with allie as bo peep and paris as woody, so paris can wear a vest. idk allie wants see her in a vest maybe.