#poc fiction

[dracoqueen22]

Chapters: 3/13 Fandom: Original Work Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Tyrael Ashborne, Celeste Stiel, Rathi of the Cinders, Tempest Teapot, Dakota Sorrel, Nym Tattersail, Sinoun Sunblood, Easton | Riordan Shaye, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Original Character(s), Fantasy, Fantasy Typical Violence, Characters of color, Queer Characters, Queer Cast - Freeform, Dungeon Crawl, Tethers Universe, Adult Language, Sexual Content, Vampires, Blood Drinking, Sexual Tension Series: Part 1 of Tethers - Main Story Summary:

Arc One: Paths cross as our intrepid heroes meet and embark on a slightly less than epic adventure.

Chapter Three: In which Tyrael makes a choice, Celeste and Nym go shopping, Dakota and Tempest discuss their next moves, and Easton finally gets a drink.

[bixels]

I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.

[writingwithcolor]

It wouldn’t be historically accurate for my story to include BIPOC!

This is an argument often made about European-style fantasy media like Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and Disney’s Frozen. Audiences, often white, assume that due to the majority-white setting, adding any visible number of BIPOC to the story would be unrealistic.

What these critics fail to realize is that BIPOC do in fact live, and have lived, in these settings, and records of BIPOC presence in places assumed to be majority-white have been buried, written out, or not taught due to white supremacist and/or colonial bias in the field of history. There are historical European settings that were far more diverse than is often portrayed. Consider:

The Moorish Empire exerted an extensive influence over life and culture in Southern Europe from Spain from 711 to 1492

The Ottomans were heavily involved in European affairs up until the treaty of Karlowitz in 1699, but still considered a part of Europe even through the 19th century

The sheer size of the Roman Empire ensured the continued movement of people from various backgrounds within the Mediterranean well until the end of the Byzantine Empire.

“Historical accuracy” should not be used as an excuse for media to be exclusively white in its casting. While there are places which are or were predominantly white, there will always be factors like global trade and immigration that bring multiculturalism to their doors.

And even if the presence of a certain demographic is unrealistic for a certain setting? Consider that we’ve accepted far worse inaccuracies in historical fiction in the name of artistic license. Consider that our understanding of human history is, and will always be, incomplete.

Further Reading:

Historically Diverse London, “Historical Accuracy,” and Creator Accountability

Making a Black Pride and Prejudice Resonate

---

This Q&A is an excerpt from our General FAQ for Newcomers, which can be found in our new Masterpost of rules and FAQs. If you're new to Writing With Color and/or want more writing resources, check it out!

-Writing With Color

[pamperedollie]

XOXO. જ⁀➴

A GOSSIP

‎‎ ‎‎GIRL AU

. ۫ ꣑ৎ you've gone your whole life hating the spotlight, but soon find yourself enveloped in it

summary. a scandalous gossip girl-inspired au where you—an aspiring fashion designer is caught in the chaos high society, stumbling into a dangerously irreristible love triangle between the wealthy & powerful vanderbilt brothers, all under the eyes of gossip girl …

tropes. love triangle, fake dating, forced proximity, social media, poc reader

characters

☆ GGAU!READER

☆ drew vanderbilt

☆ harris vanderbilt

☆ ryan bennett

☆ lila vanderbilt

☆ alexa esparza

☆ evan ortiga

☆ damson sinclair

☆ taylor beaufort

chapters

one

two

layout ib by musegyra

[linos-luna]

Hi

Can you give various kinks to each skz member?

Sounds good! Sorry for super late response! 😭

—————————————— 💞

Skz Kinks Headcannons ❣️

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI

—————————————————— 💞

Chan

DDLG (Soft dom and Hard dom)

I know… typical. But! It’s so true! For the most part he’s the soft daddy that’s loves to praise and spoil you. He loves when you call him daddy. You’re his babygirl. But he is fairly strict… if you break rules he will be rough. Hard dom will come out and you will be punished. He’s merciless when giving punishment! So don’t break the rules…

Minho

Spanking and Pet Play

Are you surprised? You shouldn’t be. Minho LOVES spanking you. Sometimes hard and sometimes playfully. The sense of power he gets from bending you over and spanking you turns him on so much. He also likes squeezing your thighs a bit for fun. Minho also loves to make you his sweet kitty. You’ll wear cat ears and a collar. You’re expected to wear a cute skirt and crawl. He loves it so much. You better do it… or else….

Changbin

Degradation and humiliation

God, he loves it so much! Call him dirty, call him a slut. It doesn’t matter what you call him. Humiliate him by putting him in compromising positions and slap him around like a toy. Tell him you just wanna use him like a toy. Heck, objectify him. He will love it

Hyunjin

Hair pulling and Praise Kink

This boy will be putty in your hands if you call him a pretty boy. It’s his favorite praise. He loves when you praise him! He also has a thing for hair pulling. He gets so aroused when you pull his hair. He’s not exactly sure why and it embarrassed him at first but he’s accepted it. Pull it, tease him, and call him pretty boy. He loves it!

Han

Pet Play (Puppy Play?)

At first he was embarrassed to admit it. But eventually he didn’t care. If he’s good , Han will get on his knees for you and willingly wear his collar. When bad, you punish him and make him beg for forgiveness by licking your shoe. You’ll deny his orgasms and pleasure yourself in front of him to teach him. Lowkey he may have a pain kink. He loves when you punish him. Spanking, slapping, anything! He loves it!

Felix

Mommy Kink

He just wants to be good for mommy. Felix is pretty compliant and obedient. He loves sucking your breasts and twisting your nipples— kinda hurts tho 😭. He wants to be your perfect babyboy. Heck, he loves being spoiled. But sometimes he can be a little bratty. Maybe he does it on purpose? Maybe he likes being punished? Who knows? Even the smallest touches from you will get him aroused.

Seungmin

Dacryphilia… with a slight tinge of sadist

Seungmin seems so sweet and quiet but that’s just a front. Sexually, He loves bringing you to tears. Whether it’s rough fucking or harsh spanking. He’ll do anything to make you cry. Don’t worry, he won’t do so without your consent. — he’s not that crazy— There’s always a safe word. Although… he may like a little more than just your crying…

Jeongin

Sensory stuff? — specifically being blindfolded

Jeongin loves when you blindfold him. It gets his heart going and excited. With his vision blocked, every touch feels sensitive and he’s so vulnerable to you. He’ll whimper and moan, maybe even cry a little as you touch him. Suck him off when he’s blindfolded and he’ll go crazy. but be gentle with him. He just wants to be your good babyboy after all.

[moonbeamoclock]

Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

[dailydoseofsluttythoughts]

~♡Brat♡~

"Nemiiii, I wan' that one!... Pleaseeee..?" You flashed your big doe eyes at him, pointing at the bright pink juicy track suit you had yet to acquire.

You had been meaning to buy one for quite a while now but could never find one in the color you want, unfortunately.

"No. The jacket alone is $113, baby, an' you haven't quite been on your best behavior today" He replied, never breaking his gaze away from the Jordans he was looking at. He was referring to the 8 bags he was already holding. (Even though you had repeatedly told him you could pay if he didn't want to).

Your arms flopped down at your sides in defeat, the bangles and bracelets on your wrists clinking together as you pouted up at your fiance.

You felt the familiar sting of tears well up in your eyes at the denial. You really wanted it. And you'd be damned if you weren't gonna get it by the end of the day.

You smirked as an idea popped into your head, and stepped closer to Sanemi. Your left hand came up to grab at his right biscep and your right hand moved to lay on his chest.

Your tan wedges added a good few inches to your height, making it easier for you to reach and whisper into his ear. "Oh really? So there's nothing I can do to change your mind, huh?... Bumer, I was thinking some time on my knees might do the trick" You knew you had him wrapped around your well-manicured finger by the way his eyes shifted slightly to towards you in contemplation.

He grunts under his breath, "Your on, princess. You make me cum an' it's all yours baby, " He leaned closer to you as he spoke.

You smiled up at him, your glossy lips shining and your sickeningly sweet Victoria's Secret perfume intoxicating him. His head was getting foggy at just the thought of your plump lips slickly wrapped around his already hardening cock.

You led him out of the store, looping your arm in his as you shut your brain off and let him lead you to the family bathroom in Macy's. Good thing it was a Wednesday and there wasn't many people here at the mall.

You and Nemi liked coming here on Wednesday's because you had worked at this mall in your teen years and knew that Tuesday was the day that all of the restock items came into the stores, and nobody's comes to the mall on Wednesday, so you get first picks at all the good stuff.

The two of you had already been to Victoria's Secret, and bought some new sets fro special occasions, Zumiez to get Nemi some new pants, - there was a sale - and to get you some new beanies. You had also spent almost $200 at Spencer's, buying brand new 'adult' toys to try out later. You had also stopped at Forever 21 to get a new dress for you and Nemi's date night on Saturday.

But for now here you were in a family bathroom that was, surprisingly clean. Nemi sat down on the closed toilet seat, after unbottoning his pants and shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the floor in front of him, leaving him in a white wife-beater.

"Kneel on that. Now." His voice was stern and dominating. The lowness of it combing over your body, almost forcing you to kneel down in front of him.

"Well? Get to it slut... Don' tell me your backing out now, after allat talk earlier" His crystal white grin was sinister, but nonetheless put you into a deadly trance.

He didn't wait any longer and pulled out his raging hard-on. He wasn't the longest you had seen, - you had never really liked them too long - but his girth. My god, you could go on for days about how perfectly his thickness fit inside your holes.

You knew you had to be leaking at this point. You could feel the sticky wettness on your thighs. His dick was leaking at the tip, giving away how excited he actually was right now.

You breathed in deep, inhaling the heavy scent of his musk. It made your vision hazy and clouded your brain. Your head with filled with non stop thoughts of his cock.

Finally, you leaned forward and gripped the base with your small, manicured hands. Your gaze never left his as you left small kitten licks up and down the sides of his manhood, tracing the prominent veins lining his shaft.

Your mouth came back up to the top, tongue trailing along the bottom, where he had the thickest vien out of all of them, your pink tinted lip-gloss leaving kiss marks along his thickness.

You popped his tip into your mouth and sucked slightly. "Oh fuuuck, that's good, baby" He grunted out, in between heavy sighs.

His reaction pleased the hell out of you, motivating more movement from your tongue as you sunk further down his dick. You pulled back up and hollowed your mouth around him, creating a stronger suction than before.

His hips stuttered and lifted towards your hot mouth. "Shit!" He murmured under his breath as one of his large hands came to the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock as he fucked into your throat harshly. "Bet you like this don' you, baby?" You answered by humming out a muffled 'mhmm'.

"Course you do, your my good girl, after all. M'perfect baby. You belong to me. Nobody else can do what I do, huh? I've ruined you, haven't I?" His voice got more coarse and his hips sped up their pace. You could tell he was close. He always talks like this when his on the brink of coming.

You reached up to the hem of your strapless bubble-gum-pink dress and pulled it down, letting your plump breast fall from their confines. The silver of your pierced nipples shining in the harsh bathroom lighting.

Letting go of him, you grabbed both of your breasts and lifted yourself up into your knees, wrapping them around him as you continued to suckle on his tip.

"Holy shit! M'gonna cum princess, g'na cum down that pretty throat then m'gunna take you home and fuck that perfect little pussy" His pants were getting faster and faster as he chased his release.

You gazed back up at him through tears and subtle lash extensions. You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked harder, simultaneously moving your tongue around his tip and sliding your tits up and down his shaft.

"Holy fucking- shit baby, so fuck- so fucking good" His breathing was speeding up and shallowing out. You could tell he was about to cum, so you kept to what you were doing until you heard him suck in a quick breath and felt his hips stuttering.

His warm fluids flowing down your throat, so hot you thought it might be boiling. His hand came down unto the back of your head and his cock pushed to the back of your mouth, sending his cum further down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow.

As you pulled off and caught your breath he spoke, "fuck baby, keep sucking me off like that and I'll buy you whatever the fuck you want"

You smirked, and wiped the corner of your mouth while standing up. Grabbing the straps of your dress you readjusted yourself, before turning to Sanemi. "Maybe I will then" you turned to the mirror in the bathroom. And reapplied your cherry lip-gloss.

He shrugged his pants and underwear back up and came behind you to rub your hips with his much larger hands.

You finished touching your face back up and turned to meet his lips in a soft kiss. You practically melted into him as his arms circled around your waist.

He pulled away and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together, and walking you out of the bathroom.

"Let's go get you that track suit, sweet girl"

[theorahsart]

Incorruptible Chap 3 pt 19

I love how this pamphlet reads like a boxing match lol

...Lameth begins the 200+ year tradition of rich white guys throwing a tantrum when anyone else is given a chance to have their say.

[moonsbijou]

jennifer kale - potion witch

[elumish]

When people talk about fandom and fanfiction, I will sometimes see people saying, almost in the same breath, that fanfiction is important and should be preserved as/because it is queer art and that the lack of or negative female/disabled/Black/etc. representation doesn't matter because it's just people's taste or reflective of broader society.

This isn't in any way to disagree with the first point, but to say that, if representation matters, it matters for all and not just for (white bi/gay male) queerness, and prioritizing the queerness of fandom as the one true important aspect of it while dismissing the importance of all other forms of representation because you personally are less invested in reading them is just logically inconsistent and kind of hypocritical.

Start figuring out how to celebrate female art in fandom, and disabled art in fandom, and Black art in fandom, and parts of fandom that have nothing to do with queerness. You (and fandom) will only benefit from it.

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[cherubshert]

"do you love me?" his heart is pounding under you, his hand holding his phone drops onto the bed. "what do you think?" you shift propping yourself up to look him in the eye, he's already looking at you. "I- I..." you trail off, eunseok chuckles his hand raising to hold your face. "I'm a little offended." he laces his fingers with yours, dragging your hands under his hoodie placing it directly above his heart, his free hand pulling you close till your faces were close. placing soft kisses on your lips, trailing up to your nose before ending with a kiss on your forehead. he lingers, before pulling away, pressing your foreheads together, "i love you so much, you're so beautiful, so smart, so precious." you're the one pulling away now, shyly returning to your earlier position. a satisfied hum leaving you.

don't mind me i am just ever so casually simping over eunseok.

[realmofsolitaire]

“For one reason or another, I grew up feeling trapped in my own body, but as I have grown older, I consider myself existent in my purest form on a page. The blank page holds no expectations of you. It doesn’t say, “Okay black girl, you are this…” It just tells you to write.”

— S.S. Harrington

[catsandpens]

HEATED

Bada Lee x Reader

Bada refusing to give reader a break

Word count 440, fluff, slight angst, toxic behavior

You were the leader of an international dance group and were invited to attend Street Woman Fighter. Taking the opportunity immediately after finding out your girlfriend, Bada Lee, was joining

Even though Bada was only a few steps away, you avoided her as much as possible. You wanted to be a strong competitor, finally realizing that this was a competition, and you knew that being around her could make you weak.

Avoiding Bada was a piece of cake; having your girls battle other teams and win them was an amazing tool to stay away from her. Yet this all came to an end when the leader-class mission happened.

Each leader had to present and choose a choreography for the class music video. Bada spared you no mercy when she criticized your choreography, blinding you completely.

The group chose Bada’s choreography, and the judges picked her as the main dancer. To congratulate Bada on her win, you went to her team's room to celebrate, but when you went in, she was only focused on her dance. You called her name multiple times just for her to tell you that she's too busy without giving a glance in your direction.

All the leaders gathered together so that Bada could teach the rest of the choreography. You thought this would be easy, but she had to make things difficult. She constantly watched over you and called you out for any mistakes you make. When you noticed that everyone else was not getting the same treatment, you started to become frustrated.

After practice you quickly left the practice room and went to your hotel room. Luckily there was no one inside so you can finally let your frustration out. You heard a knock on your door and saw Bada walk in.

“ Do you need help with the choreo?” She asked. You thought she was trying to drive you crazy by asking you that question.

“No thanks, I know the choreo perfectly well.” You replied with a scoff.

“Doesn’t seem like it.” She joked.

“ Why are you bullying me?” You said,while raising your voice.

Bada grinned as she examined your face. She circled her arms around you as you stood there speechless.

“ I’m so sorry baby. I found out why you were avoiding me, so I wanted to show you that you need me just as much as I need you.” She mumbled in your hair as she rocks you side to side.

“That’s so messed up Bada” you said looking up to her.

“I know, but I’ll make it up to you.” Bada said as she closed your door.

[pamperedollie]

previous | next

XOXO. જ⁀➴ ONE

. ۫ ꣑ৎ "you look great,"

summary. your mother’s high-society dinner party pulls you into the orbit of the vanderbilt siblings—a tense exchange with drew, an electrifying moment with harris, and a night that takes an unexpected, chaotic turn.

word count. 3.9k

warnings. underage drinking, cheating, language

You trudge into your bedroom, dragging your feet beneath you as your legs burn like fire. Your brain feels foggy, and all you want to do is close your eyes. You flop onto your bed and sigh. You don’t miss this feeling—you hate it, in fact. Today was your first day back at your internship after being on vacation, and you’re now weeks behind on your work. You stayed four hours late today just to catch up.

“Honey, could you help me in here?” your mom calls out from the living room, her voice in a sing-song tone. Could she have chosen a worse time? You feel your soft mattress sinking beneath you, but you force yourself up, trudging toward the door with the weight of the day dragging you down.

As you pass through the kitchen, the conflicting sweet aroma of rich vanilla and the smoky scent of the grill surprisingly pair together nicely, instilling you with a slight sense of calm. All you want is to sit still and enjoy it. But instead, you drag yourself into the living room.

“Why do you always insist on doing these things yourself? You’ll end up hurting yourself again,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. You already begin to regret it as your mom turns to glare at you. She’s holding one of her signature curated art pieces—one she only brings out for these dinner parties. She says it “sparks conversation.”

“We’ve been through this! Your father helps cook dinner, and I fix up the house,” she adds, adjusting the frame. “I really don’t even do that much anyway…”

You can’t help but laugh, looking around the penthouse. You observe the meticulously arranged dinner table, the balcony doors slightly ajar letting in a breeze that feels almost intentional. Your father is directing a small army of dessert and dinner caterers around the kitchen, and floral arrangements adorn every corner of the home. You sigh. ���Sure, Mom. Whatever you say!”

It may not sound like a typical dinner party, but your mom takes these events very seriously. These so-called dinner parties rarely have a guest list under one hundred people; they are extravagant affairs where the rich and elite fight tooth and nail for the juiciest gossip and the chance to one-up each other with tales of their latest business ventures and lavish vacations. You loathe every second of it and would just stay in your room the entire time if it weren’t for your parents.

But it isn’t all bad.

There’s one frequent guest you can tolerate—barely—Ryan Bennett. She was born into a family of doctors and therapists and raised only by her father. In a world of superficial people, she’s genuinely sweet—the most authentic person you know in a never-ending sea of snakes. She’s mature, which suits her since her father is a behavioral therapist, and she hopes to follow in his footsteps. Ryan is the kind of girl you wish you could be more like—a diamond in a sea of pearls. Although she does have her flaws...

Ryan is impossible to keep up with when it comes to relationships. Once one ends, it’s on to the next. Now, this would be fine if her taste wasn’t exclusively in older men—college students, CEOs; it didn’t matter. As soon as she turned eighteen, she tossed aside anyone her age. 

---

Time slips through your fingers as you sit at your vanity, staring at your reflection for hours, covering every blemish and pimple, applying just enough blush until it looks like you’ve just come back from a romantic walk in the snow. Your dress of choice is gold; it covers you down to your feet and hugs your figure like a glove. Its silk drapes elegantly at your chest. You carefully brush each section of your hair, rolling each strand into perfect curls. The tension in your shoulders aches, but what can you say? You love a flawless blowout.

KNOCK KNOCK

With rollers still clinging to your head and your setting powder baking under your eyes, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your parents aren’t knockers; they’re more of the “coming in!” types, barging in without a second thought. But it’s only six; the party hasn’t even started. Panic fills your entire body from head to toe.

“Who is it?” you ask, holding your breath.

“Me, dummy!” a familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You release a deep sigh of relief and shuffle to the door.

Ryan steps inside, plopping down onto your bed like it’s her own. She looks you up and down. “The invitation said formal wear clubbing,” she jokes, raising an eyebrow as she assesses your outfit.

You glance her up and down as she smooths the hem of her glittery black mini dress. Her stilettos click as she crosses her legs. “Okay…” you tease, eyeing her from head to toe.

“What?” she giggles, unbothered. “I heard the Vanderbilts are coming.”

You laugh, leaning back against your chair. “You going after the dad next?” you remark, knowing full well where this conversation is headed.

“Oh, not yet,” she yawns, stretching her limbs as if she’s just getting started. “I’m saving him until I’m twenty-five and he’s in the middle of a midlife crisis.” You can’t help but laugh at how nonchalantly she says it

“Then who?” you question, leaning back a little more.

“Harris, the oldest,” she replies without hesitation, a gleam in her eyes.

You gasp. Harris? The model child of the Vanderbilt family? Currently studying law at Yale? He’s back?

“Yes, he’s back, staying till winter’s over,” she adds, almost as if she could read your mind—and casually at that. You’re not surprised Ryan would know all this; she’s almost always the first to know when it comes to this stuff. Ryan’s a silent observer of the world around her, and it’s kind of charming how perceptive she is.

A short while later, you get up from your vanity and fall back onto the bed, the weight of it all sinking in. “I’m so tired of it all, Ryan,” you admit without thinking.

She shifts on the bed to face you, looking… concerned. “What’s up?” she asks.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should burden her with the mess that is your life and ruin the mood. But Ryan’s always been the one you could talk to about this stuff; she’s never not been there for you.

“You can tell me anything, Y/N,” she reassures you, smiling softly.

You can’t hold it in anymore. “Well, there’s the internship… I feel like I’m invisible. My boss doesn’t recognize me for anything.” You exhale sharply, looking up, trying to stop the tears from bubbling in your eyes. “Then school—God, I’ve been so worked up from the stress of my internship that I’ve forgotten what’s going on in any of my classes.” You can feel the frustration and exhaustion release from your body.

Ryan’s eyes soften. “Listen, Y/N, this is gonna sound so shitty, but hear me out,” her voice lowers, quieter now. “You’re too humble for your own good. You’re ashamed of your privilege, trying your hardest to get by without it, but—” she laughs, “You have the opportunity to forget about school and really take on fashion fully—but you’d rather try to juggle the two? Trust me when I say so many girls would kill to have something to fall back on if school doesn’t go well.” The weight of her words hits you hard.

You’ve spent so much time hating your wealth and power, wishing it away, but now, in the quiet of your room, you realize how fucking stupid that is.

“I hate how right you are sometimes,” you admit.

You and Ryan finish the final touches of your hair and makeup and head outside the room. The space is crowded, the sounds of expensive chatter and clinking glasses ringing in your ears. You take in the sea of faces you know all too well.

Businessmen who can’t separate work from play, the silver-spooned socialites, trophy wives, and burnout trust-fund kids—including… the worst of them all.

Alexa Esparza, heiress to her family’s billion-dollar hotel chain, and an absolute snake. Then Evan Ortigas, the burnout skater who thinks rolling out of bed qualifies as getting ready. His father owns a massive production company, so Evan never really had to try at life. Damson Sinclair, probably the most genuine out of all of them—he was just so annoyingly rich, his family founded the largest tech company in the world. Surprisingly, Damson never fell back on his wealth; he’s actually a straight-A student and an amazing coder. He’s just shitty by association. Then worst of all, Drew Vanderbilt. The Vanderbilts were all lawyers—like literally every Vanderbilt—hence why they’re such assholes. Drew is the walking embodiment of privilege and arrogance.

All they really did was gossip, party, and… nope, that’s it.

You’ve seen it all before—their reckless antics at almost every event. They’d get high and/or drunk and act like they own the world, making absolute fools of themselves. Once, you caught Evan HOOKING UP in YOUR ROOM. What really gets under your skin most of all is the fact that they thrive on the attention, live for it, really.

Gossip Girl eats this up—the blog that tracks every scandal and ridiculous moment of their lives. You’re proud to say you’ve never made an appearance on the blog, and you intend to keep it that way.

You shuffle around the room, exchanging shallow, substanceless small talk with the guests, swarmed with empty chatter. You can feel your exhaustion creeping back in. All you want is to get away, to breathe for just a moment.

You slip away to the balcony, but of course, Evan is there waiting for you—the burnout, stoner, and skater who thinks he’s God’s gift to everyone. “You look pretty,” his eyes scanning you like a piece of meat.

You sigh. “Save it for your girlfriend, Evan.” You brush him aside, but he doesn’t falter, grabbing your arm before you can get away. “Can’t I give a compliment?” he asks, flashing a predatory smile.

You snatch your arm back, repulsed. “Not when your girlfriend is in there sitting alone. You’re such an asshole.” His smug expression fades, and he backs off, returning to the party.

Just as you start to find solace in the bustling space, a voice breaks the silence. You turn to see Drew Vanderbilt, all 6’2” of him.

Great…

As he walks toward the edge of the balcony, you notice he’s on the phone. “Are you fucking serious? Dad’s waiting on you, and so is Lila. You can’t just put that on me!” His voice is sharp and strained, and he gives you a polite nod, barely acknowledging your existence before returning to his argument.

“Could you just leave your work behind for one night and be with your family?” His voice rises, making you feel like an intruder on something personal.

You stand frozen for a moment, hearing him argue into his phone, his brow furrowed and jaw tight. For the first time, you feel a flicker of empathy for Drew Vanderbilt—but then you immediately withdraw it. Taking a deep breath, you know it’s time to exit the situation.

You step back into the party, the heat of the room overwhelming from the sheer number of people. You grab a cold glass of champagne from a passing waiter, the bubbles tickling your throat as you slowly take a sip. Finding a quiet corner to sit alone, you let the chaos whirl around you. Your eyes begin to wander—Alexa and Damson trying to sneakily hit their vapes (it’s painfully obvious), Evan getting touchy with his girlfriend in the corner—a reminder to lock your bedroom door later.

Then your eyes land on her: Lila Vanderbilt, the youngest of the family. You’ve always thought she was sweet, and it’s hard not to feel sympathy seeing her sitting alone with her head down.

You decide to go over and keep her company. After all, you share a bit of history from being on the student council together. You’re sort of friends?

“Hey, how are you?” you place a hand gently on her shoulder, trying to grab her attention. She looks up, her face brightening when she recognizes you, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“I’m great!” she says, standing up. “How are you? Oh my gosh, we haven’t spoken in forever,” she asks, her voice filled with genuine kindness.

“I’m good, just waiting for this party to be over,” you reply sarcastically, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Lila giggles. “Right? I had to come straight from practice. I got ready in the locker room. I’m so exhausted!”

You share a chuckle, bonding over the shared annoyance of these events. It’s nice having someone to talk to who gets it.

You chat for a while, catching up, talking about everything from school to how obvious Alexa and Damson are being. You almost forget where you are in the midst of the conversation.

But then, you hear a deep, husky voice that brings you back to reality. “You missed me?” There he is—Harris Vanderbilt. His voice carries such power that it instantly makes the air heavier. Lila’s face lights up as she turns to see her brother, practically jumping to hug him. “You came! Drew said you had to work!” Her excitement is clear. It’s sweet to see.

Harris chuckles. “Thank Drew. He practically called me every name under the sun to get me here.” There’s a slight annoyance in his tone.

So that’s who he was arguing with…

You let out a small chuckle to yourself, accidentally catching Harris’ attention. His gaze lands on you with a familiarity that sends a strange flutter through your chest. Taking a slow sip of champagne, his gaze doesn’t leave you for a second. His smirk grows slightly, as if he knows something you don’t.

You awkwardly laugh and smile, avoiding direct eye contact. Then he breaks the silence. “Y/N, how are you?” His deep voice is smooth as he extends his hand to you. You stare at it for a second—large, confident, powerful—and place your hand into his, feeling his warmth against yours.

“I’m great, how’s Yale?” you manage, trying your hardest to keep your composure.

“Stressful,” he replies with a slight humor, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “But it’s nice to see you.”

He begins to rub his hands together, as though he’s considering something. His eyes scan you up and down. The look is quick, but it sends a shiver down your spine. You try to ignore the dreadful nervousness creeping in.

“You look great, by the way,” Harris adds, licking his lips. His voice is low and steady, the compliment lingering in the air between you two, making you fumble over your words.

“Thank you,” you respond, nodding rapidly, the smile on your face a little too tightt.

You finally make your way to the bar, desperate for an escape from the intensity of the night. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face in the cold marble counter. The chill against your forehead is almost comforting, and you try to let go of all the frustration of the evening, wishing you could make sense of it all.

Slowly, you lift your head from the counter and glance back at the party behind you. People are starting to leave, and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. This night is almost over, and soon, you can retreat to your room.

But just then, your peace is shattered once again by that all-too-familiar presence beside you. You glance to the side and see none other than Drew Vanderbilt—the last person you want to see right now.

Isn’t that enough Vanderbilt for one evening?

He rests his elbows on the bar. “Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Drew mutters to the bartender, looking utterly exhausted and worn out. Before he takes a sip, he lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down to face the counter, his posture slumped in a way that makes you wonder if the night has drained him as much as it has drained you.

After a moment, he glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly when he notices your worried expression. “Do you need something?” he asks, his voice dripping with his usual attitude.

You cringe. What an asshole.

“You looked like shit, but I forgot—that’s just you!” you shoot back, flashing a dry smile. Without giving him a chance to respond, you grab your champagne and make a beeline for the door, not bothering to look back.

You just need to get out of there.

Hoping for some solitude, you lean against your room door, putting all your weight on it. But as you open the door, you freeze. Your brain takes a second to process what it’s seeing—Ryan and Damson, completely enveloped in each other, kissing on YOUR bed.

You can’t believe it. “Not you, Ryan…” you mutter under your breath, disbelief clouding your thoughts. You step into the room and slam the door behind you. “OUT!” you snap, your voice sharp.

Ryan looks up at you, her eyes wide, clearly caught off guard. After a split second of hesitation, Damson bolts from the room, leaving you and Ryan alone.

Ryan tries to explain herself, her voice frantic. “Wait, don’t hate me, please! I promise there’s a valid reason—”

You pause. You can’t just kick her out without hearing her out. Crossing your arms, you let out a sigh. “Fine, talk,” you say, flopping down onto the edge of your bed.

She crosses her legs, holding a pillow for comfort. “Harris totally rejected me. Like, he wanted nothing to do with me,” she sighs, frustration lacing her words. “I was just upset and needed a rebound.”

You blink, stunned. Harris rejecting… Ryan? That’s hard to fathom. You haven’t heard of someone rejecting her in years; it’s a rare occurrence. Seeing her like this makes your heart ache, especially knowing you weren’t there for her.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur under your breath. But before you can continue, you can’t help but ask, unable to suppress your grin. “But Damson?”

You both burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation. For a moment, the chaos of the night fades, and you share a brief moment of calm together.

But, of course, nothing lasts.

BZZZ, BZZZ

You both pull out your phones at the same time. The sound of a notification echoes in the now silent room. You look at your phone—and for a second, your heart stops.

to be continued…

[courtneydeservesbetter]

The td fandom can be so freaking weird because every now and then I’ll be talking about racism in the fandom in regards to Courtney specifically and I’ll get comments like ‘well is Courtney a poc? They never said she was’… the girl is literally colored brown. She has brown skin. Would you say the same thing about leshawna or Dj I’m so confused??? Ik the writers are ridiculous some times and they don’t know the difference between race and ethnicity themselves but characters like courtney and Noah and Justin are very clearly poc. If you see me walking down the street and I don’t disclose my race and ethnicity, do you think that prevents people from seeing me as a brown skinned woman? Is it that easy? Is everyone just automatically white to you no matter what they actually look like just because you don’t know if they’re latinx or south Asian or something? That’s not how it works