#you know i was wearing some insane coloured skinny jeans too

[jacobglaser]

Facebook reminding me that I met Russell Howard and also making me feel old as SHIT.

[writingsbychlo]

let me down slow (05)

word count; 8368

summary; mitch finally gets to take you out on a date, and you have an important discussion, confessions from both of you.

notes; y’all are going to love this part, their date is just adorable.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, slight cum play, that’s about it.

You weren’t used to Mitch’s car pulling up in broad daylight, the middle of the day with the worry that someone might see the two of you. Either, you pulling him into the house with a fistful of whatever jumper he was wearing that day, or him taking your hand and pulling you out of your house and toward his car needily before you’d barely even had a chance to close the door.

Today, you wanted to do exactly that, but for entirely different reasons. 

You watched as he walked up the driveway, dressed a little more presentable than usual. The messy hair he often wore, and always wore so well, was styled up, freshly washed and fluffier than usual, something you suspected was up to blow-drying, instead of the slightly wavy curls that normally took over on the longer mop at the top of his head, and your fingers itched to run through the softer looking tresses. 

The skinny jeans you were used to, but his dirty sneakers had been traded for the cleanest pair of black shoes he owned, a pair you’d seen sitting in his closet, ‘rarely worn but brought out for special occasions’ he’d told you. A dark blue henley on his upper arms that clung to his chest in all the right places and you were absolutely certain he knew exactly what it was that he was doing to you, the outfit no doubt picked with care to be formal but drive you a little insane over the course of the evening. 

His jacket was slung over his arm, a lightweight black layer for later in the night, and you watched as he shuffled his arm a little, adjusting the jacket before he was disappearing from your sight, and only a second later, he was knocking at the front door. Hopping down from your windowsill, you snatched up your boots from the floor and took them with you, swiping your bag from the dresser as you passed it, and making your way down the stairs, taking a second to catch your breath before you were swinging the door open to greet him.

“Hi.” 

He grinned, eyes scanning down along your body slowly, before he was looking back up to you, his eyes twinkling a little. “You’re wearing the jumper I gave you. On our date.”

“You didn’t tell me what we were doing, so I figured I could go half and half. I’m casual with the jumper, but I figured the skirt dresses it up a bit, and then the boots can be either, so..” 

You knew you were spewing out nerve-induced rambling, but you were nervous. It was a date, with a really attractive man who for whatever reasons he had was very much into you, and you felt the same about him, and it was different to the other dates you’d been on. 

Going to dinner with someone you vaguely know is fine, because you can exchange small talk and ask questions like ‘what is your favourite colour?’ and ‘what are your plans for the future?’ but this was entirely different. If things didn’t work out with them, it didn’t matter because you weren’t losing much, but if for any reason this date went badly, you were losing Mitch, and you weren’t sure if you could handle that.

“You look beautiful.”

You let out a sigh at his words, giving him a smile, before stepping out of the doorway and letting him inside while you put your shoes on. You’d never really bothered with your outfit to see Mitch in before, because it usually ended up on the floor within a few seconds of being together. 

“I brought you something.” Glancing up from where you were doing up the laces on the front of your shoes, he shifted his jacket out of the way, the crinkling of plastic soon being followed by a small bouquet of flowers, your jaw dropping as the brightly colourful bundle was revealed to you. “Kat always used to get at me about not being romantic enough, and I know it seems like a little much for a first date, but I thought you’d like them.”

“I love them, they’re amazing.” You took them from his hands, the stare lingering between the two of you as heat crawled up his cheeks a little, and you leaned in to press a simple kiss to his cheek, before taking the collection through to the kitchen, and you heard him shuffle through to follow you. Silence hung in the air as you filled up a vase, arranging the flowers neatly within and placing it down on the counter, fingers stroking over one of the petals. “I can put them upstairs in my room later.”

He nodded, his face lighting up a little bit, but then that silence was back, and you wiggled your hands a little by your sides, opening and closing them in fists, before he was holding his own out to you, clearing his throat a little as he offered his hand, and you only hesitated for a second before placing your hand into his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he did the same to you. 

“This is tense, right? It’s not just me feeling that?”

“It’s incredibly fucking awkward.” He let out a dry laugh, but the rigidity in his body slipped away a little and he shook himself off. “I haven’t had to do the whole first date thing in like five years and it’s just.. strange. It feels weird.”

“If it makes you feel any better, there’s really nothing I can think of that would make me not want to go on a date with you, and there’s nothing that I think would make me not want to know you. We kind of have an advantage.” His brows raised a little at your words, and that same playful energy was coming back between you both, sparking at the air and changing the tension into more of a sparkling chemistry. 

“An advantage?”

“Yeah, I mean, think of it this way: you already know I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if we just drive around and get milkshakes, like other nights. Plus, you already know you’re going to get some action at the end of it, and you know I already like you. Those are like, the three big first date worries, and you’re already in the clear.”

“Y’know, I didn’t think of it that way. Can we start over then?”

“I would love that.” You promised, and he grinned, adjusting his hand in you own to lace your fingers together properly, before tugging you closer to him and bumping his nose against your own, teasing you a little as the tips rubbed together slowly, and he let out the breath he was holding in a long sigh. “Hi kitten, you look fuckin’ gorgeous.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to your own in a slow kiss before he was bringing his other hand up to circle around your waist, pulling you up to press you into his chest, and you held onto him tightly, hands smoothing along from his forearms and up to his biceps until you reached his shoulders rubbing slowly as he let out wanton little sounds of satisfaction into your mouth, before he was finally pulling away.

“I figured we could do something casual, I didn’t want us to have to do anything too fancy, that felt like a lot of pressure.”

“I’m not a fancy kind of gal, I don’t own the kind of outfits you wear to restaurants where you have to book two months in advance and wine is only sold by the bottle and costs a month’s bills per glass.” He grinned at your words, tugging you along towards the door as you grabbed your bag, swinging it up onto your shoulder and pausing to lock the house, before letting him guide you down to the car. 

“So, what do you think about dinosaur-themed mini-golf and then going to a diner after?”

He started up the car as you buckled yourself in, your head snapping up to look at him with wide eyes and a smile that could light up a room. “Did you just say dinosaur-themed mini-golf?”

“I found this cool little place just out of town. It has miniature waterfalls, a volcano that erupts and these mechanical dinosaurs that look great.” He confirmed, and you pressed your face into your hands to mask your excitement, your whole body all but vibrating with sheer giddy thrill. He reached over to pull one of your hands down and away from your face, holding onto it tightly as he pulled your hand across to sit in his lap, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as he held onto it tightly. “So, I’m assuming I made a good call, then?”

“The best call! Like, ever! Holy shit, I can’t wait. Can you take pictures with the dinosaurs?”

“There’s even one where you can climb up so it looks like you’re riding a t-rex. I googled it very intensely to make sure it was right.” Your jaw dropped, you hand squeezing around his so tightly you swore he’d drop it, but he just he'd on with his own strength instead.

“This is going to be the best first date in the history of first dates.” He laughed at your words, turning to look at you for only a second, before he was turning up the music, the playlist the two of you had been working on was already playing, and you settled back into the seat, the lyrics already flowing from you as you sang out the words, and he did the same.

Pulling up to ‘dino-golf’, you were already practically bursting at the seams with excitement as you hopped down and out of the car, looking around at the environment. A song that was eerily familiar to the Jurassic Park theme tune was playing out over the speakers of the carpark and you could hear the waterfalls and laughs of the other people on the course, just across the lot and on the other sides of some fences. 

The top of the volcano was visible, lighting up with orange as it rumbled lowly, clearly building up to its explosion but not having reached it yet, and Mitch made his way around to the side of the car towards you, pressing his lips to your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. Guiding you up to the front desk, you swiped a leaflet on your way, tucking it into your bag as you moved through the lobby, and curled into his side a little, cherishing the fact that you were allowed to do so, and an intoxicating rush of excitement shot along your spine at the idea that someone was going to see the two of you together, and that it was okay.

She didn’t even blink twice, taking a payment from Mitch as he handed over his card, before giving you both the clubs from behind the desk, a paper wristband to put on and a small pencil and score sheet, before sending you over to the doors, on the other side of which you could pick out the colour of golf ball you wanted to use. Stepping out of the way of those in the queue behind you both, you balanced your club under your arm as he held the paper strip out to you with a bashful smile, and you peeled the plastic off of it and sealed it onto his skin, allowing him to do the same for you.

Stepping through the main doorways and back outside, your feet hit artificial grass, a member of staff greeting you almost immediately, and offering you a basket of multicoloured golf balls, and you picked out an orange one, matching it to the colour on your jumper, and he followed with pale blue, before you were guided in the direction of the first hole and told to follow the arrows. 

You had decided to go first, placing the ball on the marked little ‘x’ at the beginning, the first hole being simple enough and straight ahead, a little green flag sticking out of it, with a dinosaur fact printed on that you could read once you went over. It only took you two hits to get it to its destination, and you were overly proud of yourself, your ego feeling boosted, before watching Mitch swiftly do it in one, a smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him, your boasting cut off. 

“Kitten, I literally got a scholarship for sports, I play lacrosse, I have an edge here.”

“You’re just irrationally good at all things involving balls.” Your words had been huffed out, before he was scooping both up from the little basket that had caught them, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you in close to him.

“I don’t know, I’d say you’re pretty good with balls too. I mean, you’re certainly good with m-” His words were cut off by a laugh as you clamped a hand over his mouth, staring at him in shock, before breaking out into your own giggles, despite your attempts to hide them, and his next statement was muffled behind your hand as he spoke, the two of you moving on to the next one, and you removed your hand and allowed him to repeat himself. “I said that maybe if you’re lucky later on, I’ll let you win with some other balls.”

“Yeah, well, I always win at that game.”

You scoffed, writing down your scores onto the sheet before lining yourself up for the second shot, and before you could shoot, he was directing your gaze back to his, his mouth meeting yours for a quick but sweet kiss, that soon became deep enough that you dropped your club in order to hold onto him, his own hands dropping what they held so that he could grip your waist tightly, pulling you into him further and further until your bodies were pressed together. “I think I win that one too, because I get to be with you, and nothing tops that.”

“You’re ridiculously cheesy. What happened to the moody Mitch who barely spoke to me unless he had to, and just thought I was his brother's annoying best friend?” You flicked the tip of his nose, grinning when his face scrunched up a little, before you were pulling away to pick up all the equipment you had discarded, before someone caught up behind the pair of you and made you hurry. This was enough pressure as it was, but you couldn't deal with an audience. 

Lips brushed your ear as you lined yourself up for the next shot, and you paused, waiting to hear what he had to say and you pressed back into him a little. “He found an awesome chick, and realised that she was so much more than the girl he thought she was.”

Shaking your head fondly, you made your shot, watching as the ball went way beyond its destination, bounding off of the small wall at the other side, and you pouted, watching for where it would roll to. To your great surprise, it inched closer and closer to the hole, and seemingly seemed to slow as it approached, and for a second you thought it would stop just shy of falling in, but it didn’t, and you held your hands up in a loud cheer, turning to the man behind you to see that he was wearing an equally proud smile, holding his free hand up to high-five you upon making the shot. 

“I knew you could do it. You’re a pro, already.”

“You’re going to jinx it.” Your words came out in a sing-song tone as you walked over to the other side, watching as he took his own shot, perfectly making it on the first try, and you wondered if he was going to make every shot a hole-in-one. 

The two of you moved on, and around the tenth hole of the course, he caved to your asks to help, the insists that you should do it alone to feel proud were dropped the second you pouted and bent over a little further than necessary, you skirt riding up at the back, and he was more than happy to stand behind you and help you adjust your aim and stance if it meant that nobody else would be seeing anything that he deemed for his eyes only. Not that it gave much assistance to your skill, you were still all over the place with the pressure of your swings and the angles you hit at, but you had fun, and that was all that mattered.

It was also incredibly enthralling to watch Mitch each time, once you had notice the way his fingers flexed instinctually around the metal pipe, or the way his eyes narrowed a little bit when he prepared to shoot, the way he nibbled on his lip in concentration and how the veins in his arms that drove you wild were flashed to you when he pushed his sleeves up to his elbows halfway around. He was like a walking work of art, and he didn’t even know it.

He didn’t make every shot the first time, but he never exceeded needing more than four, even on the rounds that were taking you over ten hits to achieve each time, and he rewarded you with mumbled praises each time you got it, the open affections being something you knew you could find yourself getting used to. You liked not having to hide with him now, you liked that when you noticed another girl’s gaze lingered on him that you could lean in and press a kiss to his lips that he would reciprocate without question, or that when he did something that made your heart flutter a little bit, you could take his hand in you own and he would hold onto you tightly.

All you had wanted for so long was to have someone to give your love to, who would give it back and more, and now you felt like you’d finally found that. You watched the volcano erupt on the hour, water pouring from it and made to look orange by brought lights that shone underneath and out from the base, and you took a picture in front of it, the sky behind you lit up with shades of orange and the drops of water that had fired into the air raining down around you. You took pictures with all of the animations, and with Mitch, and a fair few of him while he wasn’t looking, a collection you could save for yourself, the small and genuine smiles he got each time you cheered him on for getting the shot, or when he was watching you make your own, not realising there was a camera on him while his eyes were on the ball.

A wave of sadness flashed over you at the idea that you couldn't post the images anywhere, you couldn’t profess your adoration for him to the people who really mattered, to your friends and family, without fear of it getting back to Stiles before you were ready to tell him, but at least you had them, the memories of the two of you to be saved forever to your phone, until the day came for you to either delete them, or share them with the world. You really did hope it was the latter choice that would come into play.

It was near the end of the course that you found the giant t-rex that you could take pictures atop of, and he chuckled at the gasp of excitement you let out, your hand finding his upper arm as you squeezed excitedly, and the next few holes seemed to simultaneously drag on while flying by, and you knew you’d completely bombed on all three of them, but you couldn’t help it, and your scores weren’t going to be winning any prizes anyway. Upon reaching the base of it, you peered around the back, finding a set of steps that you could climb up to reach the top, before turning around to look at the man before you, and he waved his phone at you, already out and on the camera app as he prepared to snap the picture of you. 

“Get on up there, I’ll get a good shot.” You turned to look back at it, humming under your breath as you stared up at the giant statue,

“You think we can get someone else to take it, baby? I want us both on it.” When you didn’t get a reply from him, you turned around to find him staring at you intently, and your brows shot up in silent question. “You don’t have to take a picture with me up there, I just thought it would be fun i-”

“You called me ‘baby’.”

You paused, looking at him for a second to face him more fully, before clearing your throat and trying to ignore the blush rising on your cheeks at the pet name you’d barely even processed having said, the word just slipping out with the sentence. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever given me a nickname.” He pressed in close to you, cupping your cheeks and pressing an eager and passionate kiss to you lips that had you melting into him as he laughed breathlessly into your mouth at the way you repeated it to him, the exchange intimate and private and utterly perfect given the timing, before he was resting his forehead against your own and taking quick puffs of breath. “I absolutely want to take a picture on that fuckin’ dinosaur with you, let me just go and give someone my phone.”

He was dashing away from you a second later, jogging down towards a couple on the next course, and you made your way up the steps to the little platform out of photo-sight behind it. There was a ledge to sit on, definitely only designed for one person, but you’d make it work, you were determined too, and after a few moments, he was appearing at the top of the steps beside you, eyes locking on the small seat.

“Huh.”

“We can make it work.” He nodded, navigating himself around you until he was sitting on it, before guiding you down into his lap, the two of you positioning until you were squeezed onto the chair, but fit comfortably, looking down at the woman standing with the phone at the base, taking a few steps back to get it all fitted in for you, before she was shooting you a thumbs up. The man with her, whom you assumed to be her husband from the playful way they bickered over the angle, held up his fingers in a count down for you both, and you smiled widely, holding your hands up in the air above you as the picture was taken. 

She took a few more, before others were waiting for their chance to get a picture, and so you stepped down from it, thanking the two of them when they handed the device back, and they headed back over to their own section of the course to continue their game, and you did the same, but not before looking through all of the shots and choosing the ones that were your favourites, each of you sharing the photos from your device with each other, until you had copies of every shot from throughout the evening.

Once you reached the end, you were adding up your scores, finding that Mitch had less than a quarter of what you did, the staff member at the end informing you that he may actually have broken a record and that he would be put on the leaderboard if he asked at front desk, and you were absolutely determined to make sure he did. 

It turned out he had, and was now being placed as third on the Top Ten board they had out, giving you a mock glare as he filled out a little form with his score, and his name on, and some details for next time while she printed him off a certificate from the machine. You looked around the waiting room, finding a photobooth tucked into the back with Jurassic themed greenscreen backgrounds, fishing into your purse for extra change as you stood near it pushing the coins into the machine and selecting your background choice, but not starting up yet. 

He came walking back over, face a little red as he gripped his certificate and had a badge in his hand that said ‘I am a dino-golf legend’ on, and you cracked up at the sight of it. He rolled his eyes, opening your bag where it hung at your side hiding the piece of paper and the plastic award inside. 

“You are the absolute worst.” He grouched, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, laughing lightly, and he continued to frown at you, but wrapped his own around you in return, tipping his head to the side when you leaned in to kiss at his cheek, and you felt the pull of the skin indicating he was smiling, even if he did pretend to be mad. “I did get a voucher though, we get free entry next time.”

“Next time?”

“If you want to come again, that is.” He showed you the waxed piece of paper, before adding that to those in your bag and sealing it up, accepting the kiss you gave him as you nodded. 

“I would love that. But, before we leave this time, we have to take photobooth pictures. It has backgrounds.”

“Backgrounds, huh? Can’t miss that.” He crowded you into the box, and arm over your shoulders as you pressed into his sides, and you clicked go on the machine, the countdown beginning as you posed. It was exactly as romantically cliché as you’d hoped. You posed for the first two, before feeling his nose nudging at your cheek in the third, and his hand on your jaw turning your head to the side for a kiss at the camera click went off. 

The sounds of cogs turning and photo developing sounded out, but with the curtain pulled and a moment of privacy to yourselves, you allowed yourself to press back into him a little deeper, your tongue dipping out to play with his before he even had to ask, the lingering taste of mint on his tongue, and you were more than happy to indulge in it, letting yourself get lost, until you heard the click of the photos dropping down to be collected, and you forced yourself to pull back from him. 

Pushing back the curtain and climbing out, you grabbed the set of four, holding it up to show him as he followed behind you, the two of you making your way back towards the car as you observed the pictures you’d taken.

“Look at that, now we’ve made out in a Triassic jungle. Don’t you feel accomplished?”

“You’re such a little weirdo, I love it.” He muttered, nuzzling at your temple before holding open the car door for you and letting you hop up and inside. You pushed the picture card into a piece of the framework on the dash, watching it hold steady, and brushing your fingers over the plain bit outside of each frame, loving the way it sat there, making it all feel a little more personalised. “Can I keep them?”

“Yeah, you can keep them in your car, or your wallet, or whatever.” You waved at them, strapping yourself in and watching as he sat up enough to pull his wallet from his pocket, before selecting them. Tearing the paper in half, he tucked the final two into his wallet, leaving the first two goofy ones up in the place you’d left them, showing it to you with a grin. 

“How about both?”

“I can’t believe you’ve got a picture of us in your wallet, that’s deep.” You teased, and he thumbed at them adoringly before putting it away and digging out his keys instead, starting up the car. 

“So, you hungry?”

When Mitch had said diner, he really meant it. It wasn’t the city kind of diner that was more like a restaurant, the ones that pretended to be but actually had an elite menu with four courses and everything you’d expect from someone fancy, but this was a diner.

It had a small menu that mostly consisted of greasy and fast to cook foods, a range of breakfast meals that could be served at any time of the day, and it still had a sixties theme lingering about it despite the efforts to redo it, the history was still shining clear underneath. It was perfect, everything from the checkered floor to the leather booths, you were loving it, settling down happily to pour over the menu and decide what you wanted to eat.

“The burgers here are amazing. I always stop here for food when I’m on my way too or from college.”

“You stop here? It’s only, like, an hour out of town.”

“Best food for miles, though, and it’s just kind of a tradition now. Maybe in fall, we’ll be driving together, and I can share it with you.” He reached out across the table, taking your hand in his and pulling it across the table towards him, your other hand coming up to hold onto his as well, and you laced your fingers together, menus temporarily forgotten.

“Have you ever shared your tradition with anyone else?”

The question hung heavily between you both, and the movement of his thumb over the back of your hand paused for a second as he looked at you, swallowing thickly and ducking his eyes for only a second. “I’ve never brought anyone here before. Everything I do with you is totally brand new, I promise.” You let out a relieved breath, nodding for a second, and he stood up, leaning over the table to press a kiss to your lips before sinking back down into his seat, and taking his menu in both hands. “You’re not a replacement, or a substitute for her. I like you for you, and I wasn’t looking to get feelings for someone else while I came home but I did, and I like that you and me happened while I was being myself, so I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, even if he didn’t look up at you as he said those words but you knew he was hanging on your response, and you stretched your feet out under the table, nudging your foot was his and tangling your legs together. “Just so you know, you’re not a replacement for what I felt for your brother.”

“Felt, or feel?”

The question felt like a punch to the gut, and he looked at you for only a second, a thousand different emotions flashing through his eyes before he cleared his throat a little, looking down at his menu and leaving the silence hanging thickly in the air between you both. You were still staring at him, lost and confused and looking like a deer caught in headlights, and you were still a little frozen from the question, feeling like there was stone weighing you down from the inside out.

The waitress came over to take your orders, and you had no idea what you wanted, Mitch listing off what you assumed or be his usual with ease, and he looked at you, your eyes directing down to your menu to avoid his, before you barely managed to choke out what you wanted, giving the woman a polite smile before she was moving away to get your drinks, and you finally looked back up at him.

“Mitch, I really like you. Like, more than I‘ve ever liked anyone other than Stiles. It’s different now, with you. You make me feel different, you make me feel everything I never thought I’d get back. The way I feel about you is nothing like the way I feel about him. It’s exciting, and new, and you want me back, an-” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and he stood up from his side, rounding the booth and cupping your face in his.

“Kitten, please don’t cry. I’m not mad at you, I’m really not.” He shushed you quietly as tears welled up in your eyes, and he kissed at your cheeks delicately, letting you calm your racing heart. “Don’t cry on our first date, I don’t want that to be what we look back on.”

“I’m sorry, Mitch.”

“Don’t be sorry, he was your first love, and that’s always hard to forget. I may not be in love with Katrina anymore but she’ll always hold a place in my heart, and I suspect my little brother will hold that for you, too.” He tipped your chin up, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips, and breaking away when two glasses were placed down on the table before you both, and he pulled your soda over to you, prompting you to take a sip.

“I have such an amazing time with you, every single time.”

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” He tucked some hair behind your ears, letting you curl into his side as his arm wrapped around you, and he let you press your face into his neck, soothing yourself with the warmth of his skin and the smell of his cologne, the familiar and unique way it made you feel when he held onto you. “Just tell me I have a chance, okay? I don’t think I could handle competing to make you fall in love with me, if you’re already in love with him.”

You let out a breathless laugh, nodding slowly and pulling away to hold onto his face, pressing your forehead to his as the unshed tears began to clear from your eyes. “You have a really good chance, Mitch. Like, a sure thing. You have the game rigged.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.” His eyes lit up at the use of the pet name once again, and he leaned down, connecting your mouths in a kiss deeper than any you had shared before, expressing everything that you weren’t saying but confirming everything that you had.

When the food arrived, the mood had cleared, and the two of you ate happily together. He remained on your side of the booth, the two meals becoming shared as he tempted you to try some of his and stole some of yours, your plates pushed up together and your meals shared, until the plates were empty and you were both stuffed, slouched in the booth with your hands held and mumbled words shared.

When he went to the bathroom, you jumped at the chance to pay the bill, wanting to share the costs together and treat him just as much as he liked to treat you. When the table was clear of plates and waitress handing you a receipt when he came back out, he shook his head, but was biting the inside of his cheek to contain his smile, and he took both of your hands in his, pulling you up to your feet and thanking you server as he pulled you out of the door, the bell jingling overhead.

“How am I supposed to treat you and win you over if you buy dinner?”

“That would be called buying me, which makes it prostitution, and I’ll put out for you anyway.” He poked at your sides, growling in your ears a little as he pulled you back into his chest by the waist, and he nipped at your ear lightly. “Besides, you won me over the day you looked after me during my period, even though you didn’t get anything for it.”

“I got to spend the whole day with you, didn’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him away a little but connecting your hands before he got too far, the two of you stumbling along as the night began to set in, the sunset painting a pretty picture across the horizon. He dragged you in close until your bodies were pressed together, just the two of you wrapped up in one another beside the car, the world slipping away for just a moment. “Do you want to go for a walk along the edge of the preserve?”

“I would way rather take you home, while we still have a few hours to ourselves, and take our time as I have my way with you.” Your jaw dropped as his lips brushed your own with every word, but he pulled back, shrugging his shoulders casually. “But, if you want to go for a walk, we can do that, I guess.”

“You’re right, let’s go home.”

“No, no, no.” He sighed, trying to pull you away from the car, a shit-eating grin on his face, and you dug your heels into the ground to hold yourself still. “You wanted to go for a walk, so let’s do it.”

“If you take me home right now, I’ll blow you when we get there.”

“Sold. In the car, kitten.” He was singing a different tune from the second you’d said the words, slapping at your ass cheekily as he encouraged you up into the vehicle, before getting in himself. The drive was fairly short all things considered, but it still felt like it dragged on for an eternity, the lingering touches you shared and the longing glances being something that only teased the pair of you further and further.

Stumbling into the house consisted of messy and wet kisses, tongues tangling visibly and moans pouring out into the air as you tripped up the stairs in a bid to reach his room while pawing at one another desperately. Making your way along the halls, you fell through the door, your hands tugging that dark blue henley up and over his head, his arms raising to allow you too.

He was pulling at your skirt, yanking it down your legs as you messed with his belt, yanking it from the loops and dropping it to the floor as he stopped the movements of his mouth along your neck, snapping away to peer down at the panties you had one, a loud sound bubbling up from his throat. “Black lace panties, does the bra match?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You lifted your arms up, and he peeled the jumper off of your body, the matching top half being revealed to him as he threw away the rest of your clothes, and you stood before him, in nothing but lingerie and heeled boots. “So, you like?”

“I’ve never seen you wear these before. You’ve been hiding them from me.”

“They’re special, it’s my super pretty date underwear. You earned it today.” You smoothed your hands up his chest, his eyes blown wide with lust and practically black, before taking a handful of his hair and pulling his mouth back down to clash with your own. While he was distracted with your mouth, you were able to pop the button on his jeans, slipping your hand underneath to palm at him through his boxers, his hard cock pressing into your hand and throbbing with each rub.

His own hands were cupping your cheeks, hips rolling into your hand as your other clung to his waist, and he nipped at your lower lip when the burn for oxygen became too much. Kissing along his neck, he tipped his head back, letting you suck and nip along his throat, before your tongue was dragging between the defined lines of his muscles to lick down across his chest and stomach, before settling on your knees.

Brushing his fingers through your hair, he beamed down at you, watching as you tugged his jeans and his boxers to sit around his ankles, his cock springing up and pointing out towards your face. Dragging the tip of your tongue along him, from the base to the tip, before lapping at the slit that was leaking precum out onto his skin.

“Fuck, you look so good on your knees for me. Even better when you let me fuck your pretty mouth. Open up for me.”

You did as told, your jaw dropping open and he slipped his cock between your lips, groaning out as the wet heat of your mouth surrounded him entirely. He pushed in until you were gagging, before he set a slow and steady pace once your lips sealed around him. His fingers were pulling at your hair as he continually tried to smooth back the strands so that he could see your face. He loved the way your lips would stretch around his cock, he loved the way you looked when your eyes watered and spit drooled from your mouth with every thrust he delivered to you.

He liked to take care of you, but Mitch was truly filthy in his own ways. Gripping at his thighs, your nails were digging into his flesh as you forced yourself further down, pressing past your gag reflex as far as you could go, and his legs trembled under your hands, his eyes wide as you pulled back to drag in deep and gasping breaths, and you licked along his shaft, before taking the tip back between your lips once again. Focusing your attention there, you swiped your tongue along the underside, loving the noises you knew how to drag from him, and the reactions you knew how to get out of him.

“Tell me what you want, tell me how you want me.”

He groaned out at the prompt, his mouth dropping open and beginning to spill his thoughts without a filter as you went back to bobbing along his shaft slowly. “I want to fuck you slow and deep tonight, not our usual quick and frantic hookups. I need you to know how much you mean to me tonight, and I need to know you feel the same, so I want to fuck you until you’re begging me for more, begging me to make you cum. I want to watch you unravel, I want you to remember that I’m the one who drives you wild, I’m the one who knows how to take care of you.”

You stilled, looking up at him through your lashes, the words you wanted to speak so badly to him were right there, but you didn’t want this to be how you said it at first, you didn’t want to tell him what you wanted to say until you didn’t have to hide it.

You didn’t want to say it until you knew you were completely and utterly his. Instead, you rose back up, letting him kick off the rest of his own clothes as you slipped off your boots and made your way over to the bed, dragging him with you by both of his hands.

“Show me how much you want me.”

He slipped a hand up behind you, unhooking the latch on your bra and peeling it away down your arms. He cupped your tits in place of the fabric, thumbs dragging over your already pebbled nipples and the sparks shot along your body, your back arching up into him, but he pushed you back with a wicked grin, letting you fall back onto the bed and bounce with the mattress.

“Just gonna’ throw me around like that?” You teased, but lifted your hips, anyway, when he made to peel your panties from your legs, and he threw them away over his shoulder, crawling up the bed toward you as you moved away from him and he wrapped a hand around your ankle, pulling you back down towards him to trap you underneath himself.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“Touché.” He nodded at your submission, before he was dipping down and taking a nipple between his teeth to tug on it, pulling it away from your chest and scraping his teeth across it before he let go, and you could feel yourself becoming undone with every touch he gave to you. Lining himself up, his hips rocked into you slowly, thrusting up slowly until he was fully sheathed within your tight heat, and you looped your arms under his own to grip tightly to his body.  

His chest was pressed to yours, and he set a slow rhythm, fingers clenched in the bedding beside your head as he began to drag in and out of you slowly, and you rolled your hips up to meet him. The usual rapid and bruising collisions of your bodies was changed tonight, it was emotional and passionate and you let out a sob of pure need at the feel of it, overwhelming as he showed you what it meant to be loved.

Your nails were tearing streaks down his back, your throat raw from crying out his name each time he hit against your sweet spot perfectly, every time his skin dragged over yours in a way so erotic you felt yourself flooding around him. He was working his mouth over your body, no patch of skin left untouched by his mouth, covered with kisses or trails of his tongue, as he made sure to worship you in the way he had promised to do. You had never felt this way before, not even with the way he held you when you weren’t fucking, or the way he held you were, but this was a connection on a whole new level.

Locking your hips around his waist, you flipped him over, sinking back down onto him as he gripped at your hips and let you rock your body down onto him. Sitting up to meet you, his mouth found yours, and your movements slowed until you were simply circling in his lap, his hips twitching up the occasional urge to meet your own, but other than that you were both still. The only movements shared were the grasping of wandering hands and the swirling of your tongues between lazily dancing lips.

“You are my world right now, do you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, how does your soft talk affect me more than your dirty talk?” He cursed out as you clenched around him, laying back in the pillows and dragging you with him so that he could fuck up into you with as much power as he could. You cried out, your eyes rolling back in your head and colours exploding around you as everything in your life seemed to fall into place as an orgasm more meaningful and memorable than any you’d had before came crashing over you, leaving you a trembling and quivering mess in his arms. “Fuck! You’re so tight!”

“Don’t stop! Please, just don’t stop.”

You were gasping for breath, riding back onto his cock as the stimulation overwhelmed you but the orgasm building up within you for a second time was undeniably stronger, and you could no longer form words, screams leaving you in desperate begs as you hurtled over the edge, and pulled out of you quickly, cum splattering across your stomach and tits, painting your skin with his arousal as he bit down on his lower lip to muffle the noises that he was making.

Your body collapsed down on top of his, uncaring of the cum splattered across your body as you dropped down onto him, and it seemed he didn’t care either, because he wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over so that his body was sprawled out atop your own. You were both fighting for breath, sweaty and dirty and perfectly content as you curled up in his arms. Tears came to your eyes as you snuggled into him, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, sniffling a little as he brushed a hand over the back of your head, twisting his head to kiss your temple.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“I’m just so happy here, with you, right now.” You didn’t bother to lie, and he pulled back long enough to press a collection of longing kisses to your lips.

“You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been this happy, and you did that.” He pushed himself up from the bed, and waddled away for a moment to the bathroom, before returning with a clean chest and a washcloth, wiping over your skin and pressing kisses to each clean patch. Once he was done, he disposed of the cloth and his old clothes into the wash basket, folding yours as he placed them on his desk and kicking his bedroom door shut, lest anyone in his family come home early and see you both.

Crawling up the bed beside you, he collapsed down into the pillows, letting out a low groan of satisfaction and relief, and snuggling down into his own pillows as the two of you lay in companionable silence together, regaining your clarity as the sex-drunk haze cleared up a little.

“Will you stay?”

“What about your dad, or Stiles?” You whispered, and he rolled onto his side, brushing some sweaty hair out of your face and pecking your lips sweetly.

“I’ll lock the door, won’t let anyone in. Give you some of my clothes to wear, sneak you out in the morning.” You remained still, nibbling on your lip as you contemplated it, before sighing and nodding, a gentle smile offered to him.

“Fine, but only if you let me wear those really soft-looking black sweatpants with the crocodile on the pocket.” Your bargain was well received, because he nodded, waving in the direction of the drawer, before pulling you back into his arms.

“You got it.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #414

“mirror, mirror, tell me who you see  /  am i you or me?  /  i can never remember”

How many people have you kissed? Four. Ever kissed someone you weren’t dating at the time? No. Of the people you’ve kissed, how many do you regret kissing? Two. Ever been kissed by a legal adult when you were a minor (or vise-versa)? Yeah, with Jason, but it was only a two-year difference. Ever kissed someone on a dare/as part of a game? No. Where’s the most public place you’ve ever made out with someone? Nowhere public. I wouldn't do that. Can you snowboard? Never tried. Have you ever made a mixed cd for someone? No. Do you use recycle bins at your house? Yes. Do you own more than one bathing suit? No. Have you ever kissed someone who smokes weed? Jason did occasionally with his best friend, but he stopped for me. How are you right this second? I'm all right. Last night was pretty rough, so I'm just glad that's over. My body is just tired. Is there anything you disliked about your last birthday? Honestly, I barely remember what I did on my last birthday. I just remember it was fine. Oh wait, actually, on the way home from going out to eat, we had to call the cops while behind a car whose driver was obviously drunk or high OFF. HIS. ASS. He was swerving like crazy and almost hit SO many cars. I was having an absolute panic attack. I pray to God that guy was more than just found and fined. Do you keep a diary or journal (offline or online)? No, unless you count surveys, I guess. What were you like a year ago? I was the unhappily the same. Is someone on your mind right now? Fucking always. Having a warm dream about him last night didn't help. Who was the last person you sat next to? My mom. What do you currently hear right now? My screen is split so I can watch John Wolfe play some indie horror games. What’s something you need to go shopping for? I need to get new bras baaaadly because I'm tired of none fitting properly. What’s the last thing you ate? I had a donut 'cuz Mom stopped at Dunkin' for coffee. Do/did you do good in school? I did up to college. Then I just... sucked. Do you always get along with your siblings? I mean I don't see/talk to them every day or anything, not even very regularly even, but we generally get along fine now as adults. We disagree about shit for sure, but keep our mouths shut. Or probably talk to Mom about it while I'm not present. I don't even think they like me half of the time. Are you frustrated with anything? So much. Why did you fall for the last person romantically? There were/are a lot of factors. Just she as a person is phenomenal. What’s your younger sibling’s name? Nicole. Can you speak in a different language conversationally; if so, which language? A tiny bit of German. Do you ever fear of falling asleep? With my nightmares, I used to dread it. Now, thankfully, my APAP mask has prevented them from happening, mostly; I've only had two in the month that I've had it, and I ordinarily had them every single night. Do you have an idea of what kind of profession you’d like to have? I do, but I honestly doubt I'm going to succeed in even making it a part-time job by this damn point. Which beach would you say is your favorite? I don't have a favorite. I don't even like the beach very much. What kind of cookie is your favorite? Chocolate chip. Have you ever had a churro? Yes. Too crunchy and ridiculously sweet, not a fan. Truth be told, are you more into looks or personalities the most? A good personality beats good looks any day. How is/was your chemistry class in high school? I actually didn't take chemistry; my graduating year, physical science was offered as the alternative, which I took. How does alcohol affect you? I get hot, and my face flushes badly. It'll make me more talkative. Have you ever tried lemon brownies? No, and I don't want to. I don't like lemon-flavored stuff like that. What was the last type of meat you ate? Beef. Have you taken any medication today? I have prescriptions I take every day. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? I've seen some of it at Sara's house. What is your favourite kind of pasta? Just spaghetti with tomato sauce and meatballs, really. I've been on a major chicken pesto kick lately, though. Have you set an alarm today? No. Think of a random person, and give them a message here, no names: Literally just the chance to say "I'm sorry" would be fucking amazing. Just two fucking words. What if there were two of you? Would the world be in trouble? No. That'd be a waste of space, though. Not like I'm contributing much to society. Would you prefer an ice cream sundae or an ice cream cone? I dunno man, it depends on my mood and what I want in the moment. Do you watch movies with the subtitles on? No; I find it to be distracting. Is the last person you kissed yours? I hate this saying. She's her own person that belongs to nobody but herself. But to just go along with it and answer the question, no, we're not together. Do you think you will be married by the time you are 25? Welp, I'm halfway through 25, so. Do you have siblings over the age of 21? All of my siblings are. Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? No. Especially as I've aged, I'd say I'm pretty quick to accept if I've fucked up. Who has the ability to hurt you the most emotionally? Jason will probably always have that power, even if he's not in my life. Would you ever be a stripper? God no, nobody wants to see that. What are your plans for tomorrow? Just get through the day, man. Do you owe anybody money? No. How would your parents describe you? Reserved, shy, a deep thinker, animal lover, uhhhh... What is the most you have ever weighed? Let's not. Would you ever work at McDonald's? No. I'm never working in food service. If you aren't already, would you go vegetarian or vegan? I want to be a vegetarian and being a vegan would be perfectly ideal for me, but I really don't think I can healthily accomplish either. I am FAR too picky to where I'd almost definitely become malnourished. To make it even worse I absolutely cannot "suck it up" if I don't like a food, so it's not like I could choke down stuff I don't like. Not to mention I'd be pretty sad without any yummy food to look forward to, aha. Coolest person you've ever met? Uhhhh I don't know. Do you wear boxers? No. Girls, how old were you when you first learned how to put in a tampon? I don't remember. Would you ever attend a gay pride parade or festival? I would absolutely love to. Did you see Paranormal Activity 2? I think I've seen all of the movies. I liked them, given paranormal horror films are probably my fave. What would you do if an old man grabbed your ass? Kick him in the fucking balls so goddamn fast and probably slap him across the face at the same time. Probably cry later from feeling violated and having my fear of men aggravated. Do you like moustaches? It depends on the person, but I'd say I generally prefer an attached beard and a mustache versus JUST a mustache. Could you hack into someone's computer if you tried hard enough? No. I have no idea how to do that. Have you ever smoked a cigar? No. Do you go out on Black Friday? Hell no. NOT worth fighting people for deals. Do you have curtains in your bedroom? No; I have those blinds that you can close upwards or downwards. Did you like the Spice Girls when you were little? Yeah, I did. Can you sing the entire Fresh Prince of Bel-Air theme song? I think I can. Do you get heartburn? I'm literally on an antacid prescription, or else I get insane heartburn every day. Are you scared of elevators? To a moderate degree, yes. I'm terrified of it getting stuck. Have you ever seen a dead body in person? Yes, at an open-casket wake. Have you ever seen The Goonies? I have. If you're white, do you ever wish you were black? Or vice versa? I'm fine being Caucasian, but ultimately don't care. Do you bake cookies all the time around Christmas? I don't bake. Do you like your hair pulled? Uhhh... I'm assuming you mean this in a suggestive context, in which case no. Never pull my hair, actually. What kind of jeans do you like? Ripped skinny jeans. What do you think is overrated? Who really cares. Let people enjoy what they enjoy. And what are your goals for the remainder of this year? Lose lots of weight, find a job, get back into old hobbies and develop new ones... Name a city that starts with A in your state/province etc. Asheboro. Name a landmark that starts with M in your state/province etc. I'm blanking right now. When was the last time you gave a horse a carrot? Been years. I think I've only done that once, and I can't even remember where it was. Have you ever had to shovel snow? No. How many seasons is your favorite TV show in so far? MM was just revived for its fifth season! :') Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? NC actually has this really old Wizard of Oz theme park! It's on the other end of the state, though, and NC is one wiiiiiide state. What was the last bird you saw? A robin, I think. What color was the last thing you drank? Green. Has a wild animal ever been loose in your house? Besides insects, no. Well wait, scratch that, once or twice we had a small mice problem when we lived in the woods. What’s the name of the bookstores in your city? The only one I know off the top of my head is Books-a-Million. Where do your parents live? I live with my mom, and Dad lives in the same city as us. Have you ever seen or touched an iceberg? No, but that would be cool. What colour are your father’s eyes? Brown. If your ex turned up on your doorstep now, with nowhere else to go, would you let him/her stay? Well one, this isn't my house, so I can't make that decision. My mom being who she is though, she'd let pretty much anyone stay the night. If it was Sara, Mom would let her stay as long as she needed. The last time you cried, was it connected with someone of the opposite sex? Ugh, yes. My PTSD was BAD last night. Delicious warm brownies or a giant cookie? I'll take the brownie. Have you visited a haunted building or area before? No, but damn I'd love to. Have you been to North Carolina? Ayyyyeeeee that's my home.

[miss-edith-cushing]

The post that is about hip dips, but not really

A few weeks ago I stumbled upon Rachel Maksy’s video called ‘Let's Talk About "Hip Dips" (& other insecurities)’. I saw it in my recommendations on youtube, but I clicked on it before I’ve even read the title - seeing two small drawings on the miniature, one called ‘No Dip’ and the other ‘Dip’, was all that I needed to watch it immediately. I never heard of hip dips, never knew it was a problem common enough that it had its own name - all I knew was that the drawing called ‘Dip’ was showing something I saw every day in the mirror, but what I never saw anywhere else. I knew Rachel’s channel, I saw a bunch of her vintage clothing videos, so I was very surprised to see her in sports bra and leggings, with no or barely any make up. She talked about hip dips and what causes them (no, it’s not badly fitted underwear, lack of workout or family curse - it’s your bones, your literal skeleton, so there’s not much you can do about it), about her insecurities (stretchmarks, flat booty, colour of her eyes, hip dips, tummy rolls...), about a lot of other stuff. I don’t remember much from it, but seeing her in those very revealing clothes, showing exactly what parts of her body she doesn’t like, made an impact on me. Something about her figure made me think about myself - the fact that she is both slim and soft, looks ‘feminine’, but is not very thick, has no butt, rather slim hips, those darn hip dips, she’s pale and red-haired... And seeing her made me feel better about my body.

I don’t have a lot to complain about when it comes to my looks, I won the genetic lottery, but there are still parts of my body I don’t like. Or, I should rather say, I learned to not like. I used to think I was mediocre, 5/10, alright, but nothing more. When I was a child, I wanted to be a blonde, but I got over it quite quickly; like many girls, I talked a lot about how fat I was (from age 13 to 16 I used to wear size 38 EU, then lost some weight due to stress), I hated my face covered in acne and always wore stupid bangs that made my poor skin on forehead even worse. But the thing is, I never truly believed it. I never fully and completely thought my bangs were awful or that I was fat. I never hated myself for it. My acne, well, that’s another story. And no one ever said anything bad about those things. Not my family, not my peers, no one. Those were insecurities I created myself, maybe except for acne - my mother used to talk with me about it, but wasn’t mean, just tried to be helpful. We know a lot about the pressure media and society puts on young people, especially women, about their looks, but it’s not what I wanted to talk about today.

When I was 16, someone told me one of the boys from my class called my profile doglike. Oh, I thought, I never realized that, and tried to understand what he meant. My nose looks kinda like Michael Sheen’s, but it’s a little smaller, so I figured it’s about it looking kinda like dog’s head. I never particularly liked my nose, but I still tried to just shrug that comment off. 15 years later, I still remember it. When I was 18, my then best friend told me a few times with snide laughter that I don’t have any butt, just very long back. Oh, I thought, I never realized that, because I never really paid attention to it. When I was 19, a man I was in love with told me my bum looks like it belonged to young Greek boy. Oh, I thought, he is right, that’s very accurate description, but I didn’t knew if he was mean about it or not (now I know he was). When I was 28, I met a girl a few years younger than me, with the same case of flat ass like me, who talks quite often about new excercises she tried, going to the gym, everything she does to make her bum more round. She teases me a little about it and I tease her back, but never to hurt each other. Still, after our conversation about two weeks ago when I talked with her and our other friend on zoom and they discussed yet another excercises and diets, I’ve spent next evening being miserable and thinking about how no one will ever love me, because I have no booty (and I mean, that would be the only reason, how ridiculous is that).

I thought about all of that a lot in recent days. About how lucky I was that the first thing I watched about hip dips was Rachel’s video that named the problem I had and at the very beginning explained it was a matter of my bones - not a bunch of advices about what to wear to hide them or what kind of workout will be helpful to make my hips rounder. How I had no idea that there’s ‘something wrong’ with my body until other people pointed it out and were mean about it. How much discussing these characteristics as something that obviously should be get ridded of, when combined with poor mental state, can throw me into a pit of misery. How on one hand it’s great that thick women are starting being seen as attractive after years and years of simply calling them fat (yes, of course, not all of them, but that’s another topic), but on the other hand I feel more and more repulsive every time I see pictures of influencers or celebrities, so often with their features more or less photoshopped to look juicier. I know I’m babbling a lot here, but I just need to do it, because... I’m so tired of having a body. Of having it so peculiar that today’s fashion rarely have anything for it to offer. Of sewing my own clothes, especially blouses, because nothing really fits my figure how it should. Of not being able to wear some clothes I like, because I would know I look very bad in them and that would make me uncomfortable. Yes, there are some things that don’t make me look 10/10, but I still wear them because I love them so much and I love how I feel in them. Of being aware that other people might find some parts of me unattractive. I’m tired of feeling miserable about myself and I want to find some way to stop it.

One of the things that striked me in Rachel’s video was her confession, quite logical, that wearing vintage clothes, especially wide skirts and dresses, hid her hips and booty and therefore helped her with presenting herself in a way that made her feel attractive. I thought ‘If this video is about insecurities being ridiculous, then why are we talking about hiding those unattractive parts?’ I used to do that too, but for some reason that wasn’t enough for me anymore. I don’t want to hide anymore, I just don’t want to think about it, wear whatever I want - and goddamit, I love skinny high waisted jeans, I don’t want to go back to wearing wide skirts on the days when I feel insecure. So what to do about it, how to not give a damn?

And then, as quite often in the last 1,5 years, Good Omens helped. Every day since June 2019 I see Crowley on my dash, wearing insanely tight clothes, sauntering like he hasn’t full control over his limbs, being so damn skinny, having absolutely no bum whatsoever, looking almost ridiculous, but still being described by fans as, yes, ridiculous, but so loveable. Trying to be cool in a way he thinks is cool, not adjusting completely to current norms. If Crowley was a real woman with the same type of figure as David Tennant, she sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing wide skirts with a petticoat, or padded underwear, or A line dresses. Crowley doesn’t hide who he is, what he finds cool, what is imperfect about him (no, we’re not discussing his sunglasses right now, that’s a topic for another conversation). He’s honest about who he is and what he wants.

And hell, if I need to learn to be like that by buying and wearing black waxed high waisted superskinny jeans, so be it.

I just got the email, the package with my new clothes is just on its way.

[hlupdate]

Harry Styles sumptuous new video for Lights Up took the world by storm last week. Exclusively for GQ, the young, half-American, half-British designer Harris Reed shares the inner workings of how Styles’ killer blue outfit for the brand-new solo song came together...

If you know about Harris Reed, you know. And if you don't? Well, keep up at the back. Reed is one of fashion's most exciting new talents, his designs lauded for their sparkly romance, their craft and unbridled otherworldliness. Reed came to GQ's attention a couple of years ago while he was still at Central Saint Martins, his designs already imbued with a silhouette that was both modern and nostalgic, all washed with an achingly cool, non-binary LA energy: his aesthetic has darkness, light, glamour and a non-threatening sense of their own sexiness. His designs aren't just gender-fluid, they're like wearing liquid gold.

Fashion's worst-kept secret is the fact that Reed has been working with Harry Styles for a couple of years now, making one-off outfits for the singer's spectacular stage shows and offering the musician looks that seem in harmony with his renewed sense of self and megawatt style. Last week, when Styles' lascivious, wonton, sweaty and damn good new song, "Lights Up", was blasted out into the world, we noticed it was one of Reed's bespoke designs that the artist had decided to wear for his second solo jaunt. As the video caught fire and went global, we called the ever-charming Reed to talk to him about working with Styles, how the outfit for "Lights Up" came about exactly and just how far he thinks Styles is willing to go with his new covetable gender-blurring aesthetic...

GQ: Hey Harris, nice talking to you again. How's it going?

Harris Reed: "Well, I have a stinking cold, which is the worst. Especially when you are supposed to be working and selling a collection, it can seem like it's ruining your life. But it's OK, I will get through it."

Congratulations on your design for Harry Styles' outfit for "Lights Up". You must be thrilled?

"Thank you, I am really happy. And it's cute as well that Harry made his little icon photo on Instagram an image of the outfit from the video. Quite pleased to say the least."

When did you first start working with Harry Styles?

"My big connect with Harry goes back to Harry Lambert, his stylist, who was the first person I ever worked with and the first person who pulled in any of my clothes years ago. I had that relationship with him starting about two years ago and after a while [Lambert] told me, 'I think you're ready, even though you're right at the beginning of your career, to meet this person...' I pulled some designs together – I didn't really know who it was at this point – but I put together some references. Jimi Hendrick and [David] Bowie and Mick Jagger – you know, just classic rock’n’roll iconic frontmen whom I could see in the designs. Then that's when I heard that it was actually for Harry Styles."

When did you first meet Harry?

"It was November 2017 at one of his shows, at the Hammersmith Arena, and I got a text message from Harry Lambert saying, 'OK, just meet us at the stage door.' It was insane – a sea of screaming girls, men and women were fainting and being taken away in ambulances... I was like, 'What the fuck?' It was insane. And so I found the stage door and went up to this woman who was wearing this huge red coat and I went, 'Hi, I am here to see Harry Styles.' Obviously she laughed in in my face, saying something like, 'Who the fuck are you?' I replied, 'I am going to be Harry Styles' designer.' Like that, I'm not sure where the bravado came from! She goes, 'Of course, come with me.' I was led me through the crowd and right then and there I met Harry and the rest is history, I guess."

How much steer did Harry give you initially for the clothing?

"Honestly, Harry [Styles] was truly the way I envisioned. I think it was Harry Lambert who originally gave me some references for the first work I did for him. It was never a strict brief, but initially I only had about a day to put something together, like, the day before. It was so late to the process. It was more how I could see my designs adapting for him. And then when I went into the meeting I was like, 'Let's do ruffles!' I went a bit crazy, and that's when [Styles] got a lot more involved and was steering me in the direction he wanted. But Harry [Styles] was so open to what I saw for him and what I wanted was an old-world elegance rather than seeing some hot guy in skinny jeans and a T-shirt jumping around on stage – which can work and is amazing - but I wanted to make this aesthetic far more romantic. Watching him as he performs on stage, he is so explosive and amazing at dancing and moving around... Listen, I have so much respect for Gucci and what they do for him, but because of that relationship he was wearing so many suits, so I felt like what I could offer was more fluid, a flounciness or a different silhouette, billowy sleeves and so on. Even the outfit I did for the 'Lights Up' video was sleeveless and the trousers had a slight flare, so he could dance and do his pelvic thrusting, which he loves to do."

The outfit for Lights Up, when did you start working on this particular style moment for him?

"I was coming back from my week-long hiatus in LA during the summer after finishing at Gucci, so I was exhausted. I was in New York and Harry [Lambert] got in contact to say, 'Hey, I don't know if you're up for this but Harry would love you to do something for the next video.' All top secret, of course. All he sent me were two Pantone colours of blue with a note: 'It needs to be in this shade of blue; I can't tell you too much else.' And I was like, well, OK. And at the time I wasn't drunk... But let's say I was enjoying myself in NYC and it was really late at night and Harry [Styles] was actually there shooting his Rolling Stone cover and, as a coincidence, his stylist was like, 'Can you get some ideas to me really quickly. He needs to be able to move in it and it needs to look like he's about to go on stage and take the world.' So I kind I thought, 'movement', 'take the world' and 'stage' and got to work..."

Did you design it straight away?

"Yeah, I was in a bar, [The Bowery Hotel] so I asked the barman for a napkin and he handed me this piece of paper and I did a chicken scratch drawing and sent it back to Harry right away. He was like, 'This is perfect.' I did so many more sketches at the time, but he liked this one, it was so easy and clean and it reminds me a bit of David Bowie's 'Dog Days' but more sparkly and upbeat and less linen and long hair."

Did you have time for fittings and so on?

"Erm, no! We made the piece literally in three days. I got back from NYC with that sketch and they were leaving on a plane to do the video imminently. So I landed in London, went to all my favourite fabric shops in Soho, running around like a crazy madman with all these Pantone swatches of fabric. I have dozens of photos of all these different hues of blue. We ended up using a blue silk moire as it needed to be water resistant, or not water resistant, just be able to work with water, so reflective and shiny without being too heavy and not too hot, as the video was being filmed in South America. And we didn't have any time to do a fitting, so I had to fit the whole outfit on myself. Harry and I have very different body proportions so we were just very lucky. I remember they flew to South America to shoot the video and Harry [Styles] texted me, 'It fits! It works!' And I was in fucking heaven. I didn't sleep for a solid three days doing that outfit so I was thrilled."

This isn't the first outfit you've made for Harry Styles. Where are all those incredible one-off designs stored? Surely this archive must be preserved somewhere?

"I can't say where it is located, but everything goes to an archive. It's basically like a giant refrigerator – a frozen vault – somewhere in London where I am not going to disclose. But the clothes all have 24 hours surveillance, which you can look at via an iPad, specifically done for his outfits, and they have all been cryogenically frozen in time to preserve them. That's also what is more surreal for me. After his first solo tour that I produced 14-15 looks for – he wore about six or seven – I was wondering where the others were and he was like, 'Don't worry, they are all under surveillance.' I was like, 'Oh, that's chic.'"

Can you tell us what is next in the pipeline for you and Mr Styles?

"Hmm... Let me see what can I say. I think people can expect some pretty crazy, fabulous things coming. I can't say too much. I think with Harry I am hoping this is really just the beginning and as he evolves with his own music, and I evolve as a young designer, I hope we can work on more possible projects and clothes and... things!"

Do you hear the music before you make the outfits for him?

"I think the way he speaks about the music, the way he speaks about the process is a real influence on me as a designer. I was lucky enough to go an see him in the studio this summer, and just seeing the passion and the ideas... I am someone who talks a lot with my hands and he's the same, like he's really orchestrating his whole universe. Even the way the 'Lights Up' video was teased, it's never just music with him as for me it's never just clothes – it's the message too. That is what inspires me. I hope I get to hear little teasers of new music along the way, although I always have his stuff sort of on a loop in the studio anyway... Old school rock’n’roll and dashes of Harry Styles along the way."

Do you ever get intimidated by the fact these designs will make up part of his musical legacy?

"Honestly, from a design perspective, I don't worry, because when he tells me he loves something nothing else really matters. And because I'm not just designing a black T-shirt or a simple pair of trousers, I am making a statement, so it actually takes the pressure off me. I don't worry about it if he doesn't. I worry more about a seam splitting open. I remember he wore a few outfits for his big tour of Asia and I made all those outfits on my £50 sewing machine while eating chicken nuggets at five in the morning. I was still studying, and I don't have a proper atelier, so its those technical worries that are the things that stress me out. People don't know this but there's a picture in Rolling Stone where he is near naked holding a ping pong bat and the caption is something like, 'Harry waiting for a garment to be fixed' and it was my garment and the zipper had ripped right off. But he sort of says, 'Let's take this fashion risk together', so nothing else matters. As I said, if he loves it, I am happy."

Ever feel like you're pushing him too far with your designs?

"[Laughs.] He is so lovely and I don't think he ever wants to tell someone 'no' but there's definitely been a time when I laid out the designs from the most timid to the craziest, and when we got the craziest, he does this thing with his lips where he smiles, but he he's like, 'OK, we're not going to go this far.' But it probably involved an outfit with his ass hanging out or some huge Liberace cape... So he's always open, but sometimes I can see in his eyes that he's not quite there with me. I try to read those little mannerisms."

[purplesurveys]

593

Horror movies: the bloodier, the better. Right? Not necessarily. Gore is generally great, but some horror movies do bank on psychological horror, which doesn’t always have to rely on blood but still ends up just as great. Have you ever seen the movie Turistas? No. I think I’ve already heard of it, though. What do you think of people that smoke pot? I honestly don’t know how that works or what it does to people, but you do you. Would you rather have an iPod or a Zune? iPod. I’ve never even heard of Zune...lmao I think my Gen Z-ness is showing. Would you ever go surfing, if you don't already? I probably would in the future. I’ve had chances to take surfing lessons whenever we stay at beachside hotels, but I always get too conscious to ever try it out because I know my balance is awful. But who knows, maybe I’ll try it someday when I finally stop caring about what bystanders think.

Would you rather have it raining or snowing? Raining, only because I’ve never seen snow. Do you own any Volcom clothing? I don’t. Do you like honey wheat pretzels? I’ve never had those but I’m craving for snacks right now and those sound good so I might as well say yes, I like em lmao Do you like any weird food combinations? French fries with hot fudge sundae. It has a bit of a cult following here in the Philippines but I’m not sure what the rest of the world would think of it. Do have pests in your house? (ants, termites, etc) We have ants, but here in this country we don’t really count them as pests because they’re so common, they can show up anywhere. Strictly speaking, we don’t have pests in the house. If not, have you ever? We had termites for a bit and they ruined our stairs, but it’s been taken care of. Do you own any milk crates? If so, what do you use them for? No, as far as I know we don’t. Don't you hate when gum loses its flavour really fast? Yeah that’s why most times I get too lazy to eat them hahahaha. I don’t like how they lose their flavor after like, 20 chews. What brand of gum, in your opinion, loses its flavour fast? Gum in tablet form, in general. That’s how it feels for me, at least. Were you/are you in band or orchestra in high school? Nah I was never musically inclined. Have you ever driven a tractor? No.  Have you ever had to do community service? Nope. Have you ever been on probation? In any sense of the word, no. Where does your family buy bath towels? I have no clue. My mom bought all our towels but I wasn’t with her when she got them. What is normally on your Christmas list (if you celebrate it)? For the longest time it used to be Starbucks planners for the incoming year. Eventually I realized I’m never able to finish any so I stopped asking for them. These days I don’t really ask for anything... the last thing I (read: me and my siblings) asked for is a Nintendo Switch, but as for me individually I don’t really announce a wishlist anymore.

Are you sleepy? A little bit, but I miss taking surveys so I’m still up doing one. What CD do you think has the coolest album artwork? Paramore’s Singles Club cover has always resonated with me. That was a bit of a chaotic and sad time for fans of the band, and seeing the three bars on the cover kinda forced us all to think that what was happening is real life, but that it’s okay. Do you like KoRn? I don’t feel anything towards them. At what age did you stop wearing diapers? Not sure, although I think I was 2. We have home videos of me when I was 3 and I was no longer in a diaper. Would you ever spend the night in a house you knew was haunted? I’d probably pussy out at the last second HAHA What family member do you get along with the least? In general, my uncle (one of my mom’s brothers). In terms of opinions, my maternal grandma. I love her to bits, though; her political affiliations just drive me insane. Do you know how to make a daisy chain? Nah, I haven’t tried it either. Did you play hopscotch when you were little? Of course. I was always the one with the chalk and drawing the court.

How about four square? I only know the website lol. Must be an America thing. What do you think of dodgeball being banned at some high schools? Y’all are debbie downers. Do you enjoy doing yardwork (such as planting flowers, weeding, etc)? No...I’m sure others love it, but that kind of activity just sounds boring to me. Would you do yardwork if you got paid? HAHAHAHAH, probably. When you were little, did you pick up worms? No. I was awful though, I’d step on some of them :/ Do you pick worms up now? No. Do you look at yourself in the mirror often? Only if I happen to pass by one. Would you ever gauge your ears? Hell no. Is your house normally hot or cold? It more of corresponds to the weather outside, so it will always depend on the general temperature. At this time of the year, obviously, it’s colder. Do you always have a lighter on you? Never. Do you constantly mess with your hair? Not really, it’s a mess as it is most days. Would you ever ditch a friend just because they are gay? Fuck no. This survey is showing its age, haha. Heads up, it’s 2019 – nearly all my friends are gay. Do you rip things out of magazines and hang them on your walls? I did that one time when I wanted to do some art up on my wall. But it’s not a regular thing at all for me. What do you use to hang posters on your walls (tape, thumbtacks, etc)? Tape. Did you like the movie Finding Nemo? Yes, I watched it many many times as a kid. Partly because I enjoyed it and partly because it was one of the few Disney movies we had on DVD. Who is your favourite comedian? Not a huge comedy fan. Would you ever go see a stand up comedian? Sure.  If you have younger siblings, do they play sports? My sister was good at volleyball but she never pursued it; my brother likes playing basketball but only as a pastime. Do you go watch their games? Do you own any Michael Jackson CDs? I don’t think we do. What social networking site, in your opinion, is most addicting? TWITTER. Do you have a Twitter? Yep. If so, do you follow your favourite celebs or bands on there? No, I like keeping my circle to the people I personally know. Do you update it from your phone? Phone or laptop, whatever I happen to be on. Do you wear those neon-coloured skinny jeans? Nah, generally not a fan of neon-colored anything.

[sprnklersplashes]

burning the memories

AO3

On a trip to visit her grandparents and Aunt Veronica in Ohio, Janis comes across her Aunt's high school memories and learns more about her than she thought she could. Veronica's past comes back to haunt her and she realises she can't outrun it unless she lets it go.

Words: 7k

(Set in a universe where Veronica is Janis’ aunt)

Janis is convinced her Aunt Veronica is the coolest person on the planet. From living on her own with her two cats in her New York apartment to being a kick ass social worker to somehow always knowing exactly what Janis wants every birthday and Christmas, there is no one like her. Her style still seems stuck in the 1980s; she’s almost always wearing a blue blazer and a skirt but she makes it work. She still turns heads and despite a few flings with men and women here and there, she doesn’t seem to want to commit to anyone. She just flies above it all, not caring about what anyone else has to say, stating simply that she ran out of fucks to give in 1989.

So of course, when her mom proposes that they go to his childhood home in Ohio during the summer to meet up with her and her grandparents, Janis has her suitcase half-packed. Aunt Veronica is the one thing that can make these reunion trips worth it. It’s worth the four hour drive in her dad’s car and people asking if she has a boyfriend yet and having that awkward conversation (how many times can people “forget” that she’s a lesbian?), casting eyes at the tips of her hair and her clothes and fake nails and heavy make-up, the rolling eyes and fake smiles when Janis tells them about her plans to study art. She has to fight the urge to flip them off until she can get home and vent everything to Veronica in private over coffee.

They get into her grandparents’ place first, with her grandma remarking how much she’s grown and asking about school and giving her cookies and her grandpa handing her a ten dollar bill and asking if she’s keeping her hair like that and mentioning how her outfit (graphic tee shirt, ripped black shorts, fishnet tights and an oversized blue shirt) is very creative.

“Creative is one word for it,” a voice says from behind the stairs. She turns and sees a thin, dark haired woman in a blue blazer and grey skinny jeans leaning on the banister, smirking.

“Aunt Veronica!” Janis laughs, running up for a hug.

“You got tall,” she remarks, throwing her arms around her and squeezing her tightly. “Though that might the boots.”

Within half an hour they’re all sitting around the kitchen table. It’s more cramped now than it probably was when her mom and Aunt Veronica were living there, but her grandpa insists on sitting on the armchair in the corner to make room.

“So Janis how’s school?” her grandma asks, pushing her pasta bake around on her plate.

“Fine,” she says. “I won a prize at this art expo.”

“Oh my god, Janis, that’s awesome!” Veronica says, nudging her with her elbow. “What was it?”

“It was this portrait I did of me and Damian and Cady,” she explains. “Cady’s new, she just joined this year.”

“She moved there from Kenya, right Jan?” her dad adds, refilling his glass of Coke. “Janis stepped in to help show her the ropes.”

“Well that was sweet of you,” her grandpa remarks from the chair.

“What brought her from Kenya to Illinois?” Veronica asks, snickering slightly.

“She said her parents were researcher zoologists until they lost their funding,” she explains. “But yeah, Cady’s pretty cool. I mean, she’s a little weird, but she’s awesome.”

“And… how is Damian?” her grandma asks, twirling her fork around, and Janis suppresses the urge to groan.

“Damian’s great, Grandma,” she says patiently. “He just started dating this boy from his drama club, so that’s great.” Beside her, she swears Veronica laughs before disguising it with a drink.

“And what about you, Janis? Any girls making your head turn?” she asks, looking over at her grandma.

Coolest. Woman. Alive.

“Not really,” she says, looking down at her plate. No girls had really caught her eye-except for the girl Damian took to calling ‘Danny DeVito girl’ after that one episode in the bathroom, but she knew her name was Gianna. Still, she barely sees her outside of history class.

“Oh, Ronnie, before I forget,” her grandma said. “We found a bunch of your old high school stuff in your old room. It was all boxed up, we didn’t know what you want done with it. It must have been left here when you moved out.”

“Oh, thanks,” Veronica says. “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.” She stays quiet for the rest of the meal, making small, three word comments on whatever comes up in conversation, even about her own job, which is weird, as well as supremely disappointing. There’s few things Janis loves more than hearing about how she took another kid off shithole parents, and Veronica loves talking about it. Still, she shakes off whatever was bothering her when the apple pie is rolled out, sliding second helpings onto Janis’ plate when no-one’s looking.

“You know,” Veronica says in a low voice while the rest of the adults are stuck in conversation about the traffic on the way up. “If you don’t have any plans this summer… maybe you could come up to New York for a bit?”

“Are you serious?” Janis asks, feeling her heart begin to pound.

“Sure,” she says. “I know there’s art galleries around where I live that you’d love, and I’d get some quality time with my favourite niece.”

“Your only niece,” she reminds her, but she can’t supress the smile on her face. If she were Cady, she’d probably start squealing. “Thank you, Aunt Veronica!”

“Let me talk it over with your parents first,” she reminds her, placing her hand over hers and draining her glass.

“You’re the coolest person here,” Janis says, and Veronica blushes, laughing. “When and how did you get to be so cool?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says, her voice quiet.

Janis leans on the doorframe of her Aunt Veronica’s old room, having snuck away from the brunch discussions of what their neighbours were growing in their garden. She knocks on the wood, holding a plate of French toast, fried eggs and bacon in one hand. Veronica looks up from the box sitting on her bed. The bed is covered with all sorts; photos, books, clothes, all from her aunt’s high school years.

“I come with gifts,” Janis says, waving the plate in front of her. “You wouldn’t want to miss Grandma’s French toast, would you?”

“Of course not,” she says, taking the plate from her with a grateful smile.

“Is it cool if I hang here?” Janis asks, sitting on the bed like the question was already answered. “I’ll go insane if I spend any more time down there.”

“Sure, kid,” she says, placing the plate on her nightstand and taking a piece of bacon in her hand. There’s something in her face, how her smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes, how her eyes look kind of… well, scared. “Feel free to check out the Westerburg High memorabilia.”

Janis picks up a pile of polaroids and starts looking through them.

“You know these are back in fashion now,” she remarks, waving the photos. “This girl… my friend Karen, she loves them.” It’s odd, referring to the Plastics as “friends” now that they’ve disbanded. She’ll never in her life refer to Regina as one, but Gretchen’s not too bad and Karen is actually kind of fun, in a lost kitten kind of way that makes Janis want to protect her for the rest of her life. “Is this you?” The girl in the photo has to be Veronica, same cheekbones and wild dark hair and brown eyes and cheesy, wide smile (Janis kind of feels like she’s looking in a mirror), but she looks way different. She’s wearing a long red dress and denim jacket, a far cry from what she wears now. She looks like she didn’t even look in the mirror before leaving the house.

“Yeah, that’s me. March 1989,” she reads. “I was a junior.” She chuckles under her breath. “God you’re the spitting image of me at that age. I think that was my best friend Martha’s 17th birthday.” She points at the other girl in the photo, dark haired with glasses and a pink sweatshirt. “Yeah, she was my best friend from diapers.”

“What’s she doing now?”

“Kindergarten teacher up here,” she says with a soft smile. “Martha loves Sherwood so much she couldn’t leave if she tried. We’re still close though.” Janis hums and continues looking through them, finding more photos of Veronica and her friend Martha, sitting at school, in the park, in what she guesses is Martha’s room, all while Veronica keeps looking through the other stuff.

Suddenly, she finds one in which her aunt seems to have done a complete metamorphosis. Gone is the frumpy, slightly too big clothes of the ones before, in this one she’s in a fitted blue blazer and grey miniskirt, her eyelids blue and lips red, standing in someone’s backyard with a croquet mallet on her shoulder with three other girls; a tall, blonde girl in a red blazer and shoulder pads, a bright red scrunchie in her hair and a smirk that echoes Regina George on her face, a smaller blonde girl in yellow whose hair is in curls and an Asian girl in green with her hair pinned back. They’re all wearing the same style of all-American preppy blazers and miniskirts, and all have croquet mallets matching the colour of their clothes. While they all stand in a cluster, Veronica distances herself slightly from them, but still leaning in and still smiling at the camera. Along the bottom, someone wrote ‘Heather, Heather, Heather and Veronica-September 12th, 1989’.

“Woah, Aunt V,” she remarks. “What happened in September 1989?”

“What?” Veronica asks hastily. She comes over and looks at the photo in Janis’ hands and her face turns red.

“Aunt V?”

“It’s fine,” she says, not clarifying what ‘it’ is. “For a while… I was friends with some popular girls.”

“You were a plastic?” she asks in disbelief. No way. She refuses to believe that Veronica was ever a Regina George.

“Plastic?” she repeats, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s what we called this trio of megabitches in my school,” Janis explains. “Gretchen, Karen, and Regina George at the centre of it all.”

“Oh, that bitch Regina,” Veronica says. When her life fell apart after the “space dyke” incident, it was Veronica who had sped like crazy down the freeway to Illinois and took her out for ice cream and movies until she could smile again. She had even offered to pay for her to go to a private school in New York when her parents pulled her out. She could never be a Regina George. “We called them the Heathers. There was Heather Duke…” She points at the green one. “Heather MacNamara…” The yellow one. “And… Heather Chandler.” Her finger lands on the red one. She takes in a deep breath.

“I take it Chandler was your Regina,” she says. “Why were they all called Heather?”

“Universe is weird like that,” she answers off handedly. She’s staring at the photo so intensely she might burn a hole through it.

“Aunt V… you okay?” she asks.

“Fine,” she says, shaking her head. “We weren’t friends for that long anyway. We were at this homecoming party and they wanted to do this really bitchy thing to my friend. So….” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “I puked on Chandler and told her to lick it up.”

“Oh my God!” Janis laughs. “You’re such a badass, Aunt V!” Veronica chuckles and shakes her head. She looks around at the stuff around her, two cardboard boxes worth of high school memories.

“I’m going to get some trash bags. At least half of this stuff I want to throw out.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s just junk now,” she says. “Be right back.” She runs out the door, her footsteps fading as she went down the hall. Janis keeps flicking through the photos, mainly ones of her and the Heathers.

The she finds another one. Veronica, still in the “popular girl” look, sitting on a wall, staring up at the sky, laughing. Then the next one, a dark-haired, brown-eyed boy is on the wall with her. The camera is so close that he must be holding it. The old school selfie. His arm is around her and the other holds the camera. She rests her chin on his shoulder, her smile easy and open, her eyes sparkling. The boy is smiling too. The writing on the bottom reads “September 30th, 1989, Our Love Is God”. The next one is them cuddling, him standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her, kissing the back of her head while she laughs. Someone else must have taken it for them or they set it on a timer. “October 3rd, 1989, You’re in my heart like a Madonna on a pedestal.” And another one of Veronica standing against a brick wall, her hands flat against the wall and one foot leaning against it “October 10th, 1989, We love the things we love for what they are”. And another of the boy, who clearly doesn’t know he’s having his photo taken, drinking a red slushie. “October 15th, 1989, JD doesn’t know I’m taking a picture and still looks good”.

“Holy shit, Aunt V,” Janis mutters. Who knew she had a thing for bad boys? She flicks through more photos, all of her and Mysterious Trench Coat Kid (JD, she assumes), until she finds herself back at the start. She puts the pile down and keeps sorting through stuff, finding a yearbook and older class notebooks and a small, black book with 1989 written on the spine in gold lettering.

Holy shit. Her diary.

She looks over at the door and back at the book. She knows it’s wrong. She knows she shouldn’t look through her aunt’s private stuff. But then again, it’s from 1989, what could she have done as a teenager that she’s so scared of people finding out? And… Okay, she really just wants to know who the mysterious JD was.

“September 1st, 1989, Dear Diary,

I believe I’m a good person, you know I think that there’s good in everyone, but here we are, first day of senior year. And I look around at these kids I’ve known all my life and ask myself…. What happened?....”

“September 22nd, 1989, Dear Diary

It’s been three weeks since I became friends with the Heathers. Well, friends isn’t exactly the right word. It’s like the Heathers are people who I work with and our job is being popular and shit.”

“Still September 22nd, 1989, Dear Diary,

Why when you see boys fight does it look so horrible, but feel so right? I shouldn’t watch this crap, that’s not who I am, but with Mr No Name Kid here… damn.”

“October 2nd, 1989, Dear Diary,

JD’s dad will not be speaking at our wedding.”

Holy shit, she thinks. Wedding? She was planning a wedding already? Calm down there, Aunt Veronica. So JD. It had to have been a nickname. It suits the boy she sees in the photo-the rebellious bad boy apparently sweeping her off her feet. She imagines some sort of Bonnie and Clyde style love affair, or a Romeo and Juliet whirlwind where Veronica’s dad had been desperate to keep his squeaky clean girl away from the troublemaker?

She hears her footsteps in the hall and quickly closes the book, dropping it back in the box. Aunt Veronica comes back in with two trash bags in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.

“Sorry, got sidetracked by coffee, although I did bring you a cookie,” she says, handing her over one.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a bite out of it while Veronica starts tossing bits and pieces into one of the bags. “So… who’s JD?”

Something changes in her. Janis expected her to blush or laugh off the bad boy she seemingly had a little affair with as a teenager; instead the bag falls from her hand, her eyes look up at her, wide and fearful, her breathing gets faster, her face paler. She looks so much younger now, like the seventeen year old she saw in the photos.

“JD?” she repeats weakly. “Where… how did you hear about JD?”

“I found some pictures of you and him.” She slides her hands into her back pockets, regret pounding in her chest. Veronica picks up the photos and Janis can see them shaking in her hands. She feels like she opened up Pandora’s Box, unleashing all the terrors inside. Another terror sits heavily in her chest, fighting its way up her throat and out of her mouth almost against her will. She could never keep stuff from Veronica. “And… I may have peaked in your old diary.”

“My diary?” she asks sharply. “My 1989 diary? You looked in there?” Her voice gets more frantic and Janis gets more scared and even more guilty. She can feel her ‘favourite niece’ status slipping away.

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have looked in there!” she apologises. “I’m sorry, Aunt V.”

“What did you read in it?” she asks. If Janis didn’t know better, she’d have sworn she was scared. No, she is beyond scared. Terrified is a more accurate term. Veronica looks like she’s struggling to catch her breath, her fists curling and uncurling. “Janis I need to know; what did you read in it?”

“Nothing important,” she says. “Just… like the stuff about the people in your senior year and the Heathers were people you worked with and how JD’s dad wasn’t going to be speaking at your wedding!” She feels her lip begin to tremble and she swears to herself she won’t cry. “I’m sorry, Aunt Veronica, I know I shouldn’t have look in it.”

Veronica sighs and lowers herself on to the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s okay, Janis. I’m sorry I got so worked up.” She pulls Janis’ hand and gets to her sit down next to her. She lets out a breath and laughs slightly, running a hand through her hair. “JD was my boyfriend in senior year.”

“That much I gathered,” she jokes. “I mean…Our Love Is God isn’t something you’d say to your friends.”

“He said all kinds of stuff like that,” she tells her. She pulls her jacket tighter around herself, her eyes filling with tears. Janis puts an arm around her.

“It ended badly?” she asks softly. Veronica stays quiet, looking at her hands.

“He killed himself,” she whispers after a while.

“Shit,” Janis says. “Aunt Veronica, I’m so sorry.” Veronica threads her fingers in Janis’.

“Kid, it was nearly 30 years ago,” she says. “I’m not… I’m not over it but, I guess I moved on.” She reaches over with her free hand and takes the pile of photos, looking at the one of him and her at the 7/11. “And yeah… it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows when he was alive. His dad was an ass, for starters. He messed JD up pretty bad. And that’s…” She wipes tears away from her eyes and Janis’ heart breaks. She wishes she’d never looked at the damn photos. “I guess that’s why I try so hard now. Try to take kids off bad dads like that. Stop future JDs in their tracks.”

“Aunt V,” Janis protests. “You know it’s not your job to stop people, right? If people are bad, then they’re bad.”

“I know,” she says. “I just never stopped thinking what if his dad had been good? Or if someone had looked out for him.” Janis wants to shake her head and tell her that his problems don’t matter if he hurt her (and she can tell that he did) but she keeps her mouth shut. “I’m sorry for getting mad, Jan. And for unloading all of this on you.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m sorry I read your diary.” Veronica shakes her head and pulls her into a hug.

“You know, you’re the only one in this family who knows he was my boyfriend?” she asks. “My mom and dad thought that we were just friends and your mom was away at college while it was all going down.” Janis smiles, feeling small sense of pride amongst all her guilt. Sharing a secret with her aunt, even if it’s about her bad boy former flame. Though she does wonder how her grandparents missed the fact that they were more than friends.

She knows there’s more she’s not telling, and she’s more than okay with that. First things first, she knows she doesn’t want to know exactly what went down between them. She’s not sure she can stomach the details. And she knows that it’s probably better if Aunt Veronica keeps them to herself.

By Veronica’s count, it’s been twenty one years since her last JD related nightmare. Her and her partner Anna had just started getting serious, and Anna was staying over at her house. That night, while curled up next to her, Veronica had dreamed about Anna pounding on her closet door while she barricaded herself inside, telling her about after and destiny and how they were meant to be together, the words “meant to be yours” being repeated over and over again until the voice turned into something different. Into him.

She had woken up screaming and she broke up with Anna the next week.

Still, after that episode, she went twenty one years nightmare free.

Until she bolted up in bed at 2:30 am, muffling her scream with her hands, an old trick she learned in college, feeling her heart in a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She had dreamed about him blowing himself up again up again, except this time he was taking her down with him. She still feels her arms wrapped around him, the bomb digging into her chest, her fingers fisting in his coat as he tells her again “I worship you” and she just numbly nods, Heather Chandler pressing against her, whispering “see you in Hell, biotch” just before the bomb goes off and rips her to pieces.

After senior year, she had stashed everything into a box and hid it under a pile of other stuff in her room, hoping to never have to look at it again. She had almost forgotten about everything that was in there. It’s everything she wishes she could erase from her memory about her time in high school. Everything she regrets and misses the most.

She kicks the blankets off her, feeling suffocated by them, and looks at the bags of trash filled with all her high school memories. She had just wanted to get rid of all of it, clean the slate, to use JD’s turn of phrase, act like those months had never existed, but now she’s not so sure.

She gets up and opens one, looking at its contents from the lamp on her bedside table. She still can’t sleep in the dark, even now. Inside there’s her old notebooks and clothes that haven’t fit since she was a teenager and her old yearbook. She pulls out the yearbook, running her finger down the spine. She somehow opens it to the last page she wants to see; “In Memory Of Heather Chandler”. Heather’s photo beams out from the middle of the double page, all red lipstick and blonde curls. Words from students crowd around it “Always In Our Hearts”, “Rest In Power Heather”, “Drinking Rum and Coke With The Angels” (because there’s plenty of that in Heaven), “I’m Sorry I Didn’t Know” “You Deserved Better” (well maybe that’s not an unfair statement). And pride of place, close as possible to her picture “Best Friends Forever-Heather M” and “Miss You Forever-Heather D”.

She turns the page and finds Kurt and Ram’s memorial page, adorned with rainbows. She bites her lip as tears well in her eyes. More messages from the students are scattered around the page, promises to make the world a better place, to stamp out bigotry and prejudice. Apparently their dads did that until the day they died.

When she turns the page, there’s one more memorial page; Jason Dean. It’s blindingly different from the other two. One picture of him in the middle, God knows where they got it because it wasn’t taken at school. A little blurb explaining how he came into the school in September and died in November during the pep rally. The official explanation was that he had killed himself during the rally by blowing himself up in the football field.

Veronica had forged a pretty great note for it.

Hardly anyone had any words to say about him, though a couple of well-intentioned kids on the yearbook committee added some. “I Wish I’d Known Him” (trust me, she had thought when she first read it, you don’t), “Rest In Peace, Jason”, “Your Time With Us Was Short But Wonderful”. In the corner, there’s her handwriting, “I wish you’d stayed around a little longer”, then scribbled out so violently the page tore. She wishes a lot of things, but not that he had stayed around. Not in the way he was anyway.

She puts the yearbook aside and keeps looking through it, finding an old videotape. No title, except a white label with “Halloween, 1989” written in her handwriting. She wracks her brain for what happened then, and she draws a blank. Thankfully, her old TV and video player are still in her room, so she pulls them both onto the floor with her and slides it in, turning the volume low enough so that only she can hear it.

The picture comes into view and it’s her, wearing a long sleeved black minidress and tights and a pair of cat ears, raising her eyebrows and laughing, putting candy into a large orange bowl decorated with black cats and spiderwebs.

“Are you filming this right now?” the 1989 version of her asks.

“Yeah of course,” JD replies, taking a step closer. “Look at this folks, pure Halloween commitment right here.” The camera zooms in on her dress, on her cat ears, the whiskers drawn onto her unimpressed face with eyeliner.

Her heart stops at the sound of his voice. He sounds so different to what she remembers. His voice is higher, softer. He doesn’t sound like he does in her nightmares. He doesn’t sound like the kind of person who would storm into her room, tell her he wanted to kill her, tell her he was blowing up the school. He doesn’t sound broken or damaged. He sounds normal, happy, relaxed and it cuts her deep.

“Oh, okay,” the younger version of her says. “Now, look at this.” The picture shakes as the past version of her tries to take the camera off him while he makes tiny noises of protest. “No, give it, give me the camera.” Her voice is high pitched and nearly whiny, but she’s laughing, the same loud, dumb laugh she always used as a teenager. She used to complain to him about it and he assured her he loved the sound of her laugh.

“Or what?” he replies.

“Or you don’t get candy,” she teases.

A different fight plays out in the back of her mind, when they fought over something much more sinister. The two teenagers in the video didn’t deserve that. They didn’t know how it would all play out. The girl didn’t know the monster she was creating. The boy didn’t know just how broken he really was.

The younger Veronica wrestles the camera off JD with a triumphant laugh and turns it on him, snickering.

Her breath catches at the sight of him. He’s just like he is in the photos, except he’s moving. He’s more alive, laughing and twirling to show off his full costume. He’s even discarded his trench coat, she can see it sitting on the couch behind him, instead wearing a puffy white shirt and leather pants and an eye patch of all things.

“He’s a sexy pirate,” past her sings, zooming in on him. He leans against the wall dramatically and pouts at her, making her laugh.

“I’m a regular pirate,” he corrects her. “I just happen to always be sexy.” She laughs again, the camera tilting slightly like she’s leaning back.

“Yeah you are,” she agrees. The camera is place on the counter and she goes over to him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. He wraps his arms around her, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. She moans as he pulls her closer, getting rid of whatever space there was between them. Her hands get caught up in his hair while his trail on her legs, but never lifting her skirt.

It always got heated between them. Simple goodbye kisses turning into him letting her push him up against the wall and tongues and teeth clashing while hands were running along waistlines and through hair. He always let her take the lead, set her pace, be in control. It used to make her feel empowered. Having him underneath her, being willing to do anything she wanted, to obey her wishes. She never took it too far, asked if he was okay with it too, and he always was, looking at her with wide eyes and nodding enthusiastically.

She wonders now how much of it was real and how much was just him letting her get comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to be clay in his hands. It’s all so confusing to her know, love or infatuation, how much of her memories are viewed through the rose coloured lens she uses to make it hurt less, was he broken and damaged or just bad?

“Okay,” the younger Veronica breaks away, sounding breathless. “Movie time.” JD joins their hands as she lifts the bowl from the counter. Her eyes fall on the camera and realisation dawns on her. “Shit!”

“What?”

“We left the camera on,” she laughs, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh we filmed that!”

“Oh my God,” he replies, laughing too. “Oh my God we filmed that. We filmed us making out.”

“Do not even talk about that,” she laughs.

“It’s your camera, right?” he asks as he wraps his arms around her. “So your parents will never see it?”

“They might!” she squeaks, wriggling out of his arms. “Okay, go get the popcorn started, I’m going to turn this off.”

Her face fills the camera as she lifts it, still laughing. Still young. Not too many scars.

“Sex tape!” JD whispers in the background, and she laughs harder.

“JD I swear to God-”

The picture changes and they’re in her living room. JD holds the camera, tilted at an angle so a sleeping Veronica is visible, curled up and using JD as a pillow. He’s smiling, open, earnest. His arm is around her and he kissed her forehead gently. She murmurs and snuggles closer to him. The way he looks at her can only really be described as reverence. Like she’s the Virgin Mary and he’s the most devout follower there is.

“Hello, person who is watching this tape,” he whispers. “Probably in the year 2127, when we’re all dead. You might notice this, but Veronica Sawyer is currently asleep on top of me. It is 1am here in Sherwood, Ohio and she fell asleep on my shoulder.” He runs his fingertips up and down her back, losing himself in thought for a moment. “If you’re in the future you probably never got to know her. Which is sad for you, really, because she’s the best damn thing humanity has to offer. And nothing that comes after her will really compare. And I am in love with her. I will love her until I die and even after that, I’m going to keep loving her.” Veronica shifts in her sleep and JD looks worried for a moment, but she just stretches her arm across his chest and settles down again. His face breaks out into a smile once more. “She’s the only thing that’s good in this world. I’m going to turn the camera off now so I don’t wake her up.”

The picture turns to black and he’s gone.

Veronica presses her hands to her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying.

This shouldn’t be happening. This was nearly 30 years ago. While she couldn’t get help with everything, she got counselling after JD’s death. She shouldn’t be sitting on the floor of her childhood bedroom, trying not to cry over a 29 year old video. She shouldn’t be falling back in love with a dead man, let alone a dead man who made her life hell for years and is the reason she flinches away from love even now, a man who was terrible and wanted to kill people and she shouldn’t even be thinking about because he’s been dead for nearly 30 years.

She’s reopened all her old wounds. All it took was one look from him and she’s back where she began.

Stupid heart. Holding onto someone who shouldn’t be allowed in there anymore. She used to think it would be better if she could just rip it out and stop herself from feeling anything again. But then she met people and made friends and reconnected with old ones and then Janis was born and took her heart in her tiny little baby hands. She would never stop herself from feeling all that. Even if it means she has to feel all of this too, the ugly and painful side of loving someone.

She keeps crying as she looks through the rest of the bag, Her fingers brush against something hard and she tenses. Her diary.

She kicks herself for keeping it. Putting aside every painful thing she put in here, it’s evidence. When Janis said that she’d gone through it, her heart had stopped and she had felt the world around her crumble. She only got as far as her first meeting with JD’s dad. But just one page later she wrote “Dear Diary…. Technically I didn’t kill Heather Chandler, I know that, but I still feel bad. But not as bad as I should. And that makes me feel even worse.”  And then just two pages after that is the amazing line “Dear Diary, my teen angst bullshit has a body count”.

The most incriminating lines she could have written.

Janis thinks she’s the coolest person alive. Wonder how she’d feel about her after knowing that she’d murdered three people.

“Not you,” JD had told her. She supposes he’s right. But she doesn’t like saying that she was just an unwilling accomplice. She handed Heather Chandler the mug of drain cleaner, she shot at Kurt, she let JD shoot Ram. She fell for the “Ich Luge bullets” lie. Their blood is on her hands just as much as it was his. She doesn’t know if she believes in Heaven or Hell any more, but she knows that if there is a Hell, then she’ll burn for that.

And besides, in the mortal world, accomplices still do jail time.

She knows what she has to do. She’s just far too scared to do it.

It’s still pitch black outside when she sneaks out of the house, key in the pocket of the coat she wears over her pyjamas. She keeps the diary clutched to her chest as she makes her way down her old street to the one place she’s sure no one will suspect her of going.

Westerburg High stands just as imposing as it ever did before her, locked behind an iron fence. She started her senior year desperate to leave it then two months later she was risking everything to save it.

And where was her damn gratitude?

After the news broke about JD, things changed for her. People gave her sad eyes as they passed in the hallway, whispers of “I’m so sorry” and “if you need anything, I’m here” and teachers offering support and then the newspaper offering her an interview.

Still, she finally saw the hierarchy fall. Heather Mac started eating lunch with her and Martha and, seeing that she can’t exactly lead a clique of one person, so did Heather Duke, eventually. Heathers and Marthas sitting at a table together. Heaven on Earth. Checkmate, JD.  MacNamara and Martha even dated until their second year of college. People stopped hating each other and it became beautiful.

Janis says that the same thing happened in her school. Her little jungle friend Cady broke the dance queen’s crown and shared it and told everyone they were beautiful. Now she’s braiding the former popular girl’s hair like it’s nothing. Everyone sits where they want and there’s no cliques or rumours or stupid bitchy girl fights. No one is afraid, all because one cute little mathlete made a speech. And yet for her school to get to that same kind of peace, she had to steal a scrunchie and four people had to die.

Outside the school fence, she finds an empty trash can, just like she hoped she would. She takes a look around the deserted street. No one’s around to see her. She’s completely alone and yet she still feels like all eyes are on her. Street lights glare down on her like an interrogation and she feels eyes on her back, even though she doesn’t see anyone when she turns around. She flips up the hood of her jacket, pulling it over her face.

She pulls the diary out of her pocket and drops it in the empty trash can, flinching at the sound it makes. It must be louder in her mind. Her shaking hand lifts out the matches. It takes longer than she would have liked to get them to light; her hands are trembling so badly she drops a few before she can get them to the matchbook, and others she can’t seem to strike hard enough.

The ground is littered with matches rolling in the light breeze when she finally gets one to work properly. The flame dances in front of her eyes, bright against the darkness of everything that surrounds her. She looks down at the diary, lying dead, almost invisible at the bottom of the trash can. It has every good memory of her time with JD, every time he made her laugh, every time he made her smile, details about what she felt when he kissed her. But it also has evidence and that’s a risk she can’t afford to take.

She lets the match fall from her hand and set the book ablaze.

“No!” she yells immediately after watching it start to burn. She presses her hands to her mouth because she knows that if she doesn’t do something she’ll reach in and try to grab it out.

She feels like she’s burning him. Like she’s seventeen again and back on the football field watching him explode, feeling her heart get torn apart while her soul and conscience are knitted back together. Simultaneously finding it hard to breathe and being able to for the first time in weeks. Saying goodbye to the worst and best thing to happen to her. She's burning every good memory she had of him and wonders if she'll forget if she doesn't have it to look back on. Does she even want to remember it now? Maybe she shouldn't, but she does. She wants to remember the good but also the bad. The bad reminds her why she keeps going and keeps fighting now.

She stays watching it, silently sobbing until the fire burns out and it’s nothing more but a pile of ash at the bottom.

Her clock reads 3:45am when she gets back into her room, climbing in through her window, nearly falling over the empty trash bag. As quietly as she can, she moves her TV back to where it was and takes the video out of it. She kneels next to the trashbag and fishes out the pack of photos. She had wanted to get rid of them, act like that year never happened. But she’s never going to forget him, no matter what she does. He’s burned into her mind whether she likes it or not.

She places the photos and videotape on her shelf and reties the bag. Maybe if that’s all she has of him, she can pretend he was something else.

After waking up at 11 the next morning and missing breakfast, Veronica decides to take Janis out for pancakes and coffee in town.

“Late night, Aunt V?” she asks, watching Veronica down another coffee.

“Yeah,” she admits, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She predicts she’ll crash out at 9pm at the latest tonight. “Just… looking through some old stuff. Kept me up.”

“Some old high school stuff?” Janis asks quietly, her shoulders hunching. She looks small and it doesn’t suit her. Ever since Janis could walk she’s been unapologetic about how loud she is and how much space she takes up. Even though the Regina incident knocked her down, all she did the next year was come back louder and bigger. She doesn’t look at Veronica, keeping her eyes on her half-constructed pancake house.

“Yeah,” she says. “I found some more stuff of when I was with JD.”

“Aunt Veronica, I’m really sorry,” she says. “That I brought him up. I know he can’t be easy to talk about.”

“Jan, it’s okay,” she assures her. “I’m actually, weirdly kind of glad you did. I just sort of needed that kind of release, I guess. I needed to remember him.” Janis nods, but the confusion is visible on her face. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you going to be okay?” she asks. Veronica smiles and takes her hand.

“I’ve been okay for the past 29 years, Jan,” she explains. “And besides, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about you. You’re the kid here.”

“I’m seventeen,” Janis corrects her. Veronica nods. Seventeen’s a fun age. She felt so grown up when it started and then everything happened and all she needed was someone to hold her.

“That’s not as old as you think it is,” she tells her. “Go be seventeen. Go do dumb stuff and don’t worry about me. Trust me, you’ll have plenty of time for all that later.”

“How do you know all that stuff?” she asks. “How do you know what to say?”

“Easy,” she answers, taking another sip of her coffee. “I just say what I wish adults had said to me at that age.”

[kiszkawagnergvf]

Thanks for tagging me @satans-helper!!!

1. What is your middle name?

Mary

2. How old are you?

22

3. When is your birthday?

August 28th

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Virgo (the best sign, fight me)

Cancer moon and rising in case you care

5. What is your favourite colour?

Purple

6. What’s your lucky number?

If I ever experience luck I’ll let you know

7. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore

8. Where are you from?

Long Island born and raised

9. How tall are you?

5'6 and a half

10. What shoe size are you?

8

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Too many and I never wear them

12. What was your last dream about?

I have so many weird dreams I can never keep track of them

13. What talents do you have?

I can conceal all of my emotions with sarcasm

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I’m a whole ass witch if that answers your question

15. Favourite song?

This changes literally every second because I’m an indecisive bitch but at the moment it’s Foreplay/Long Time by Boston

16. Favourite movie?

Jurassic Park 

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Jacob Thomas Kiszka (duh)

But I’ll settle for anyone willing to put up with my bullshit

18. Do you want children?

Yes one thousand of them please. My own evil little minions

19. Do you want a church wedding?

Probs not

20. Are you religious?

Eh? I believe in higher powers

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

One time I took an ambulance to the hospital in Atlantic City after a go-kart accident... that was fun

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

Nope

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Yeah but they’re not really important

24. Baths or showers?

Both

25. What color socks are you wearing?

None

26. Have you ever been famous?

I hope the fuck not

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Nah bitch I do way too much dumb shit

28. What type of music do you like?

Take a wild guess

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yes in a lake under moonlight it was wonderful

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

2 or 3

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I fall asleep on my stomach and wake up on my back

32. How big is your house?

Big enough to fit my large family

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Black coffee

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Yes

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I wish

36. Favourite clean word?

exfoliation

37. Favorite swear word?

You want me to pick just one?

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

48 hours

39. Do you have any scars?

Haha yeah

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I doubt it

41. Are you a good liar?

Depends on the lie

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I have no idea, people are so complex it’s exhausting trying to figure them out

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

No way

44. Do you have a strong accent?

Yes I have a disgusting NY accent and I love it

45. What is your favourite accent?

Irish

46. What is your personality type?

Addictive

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

I only own jeans and t-shirts so nothing

48. Can you curl your tongue?

No

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

I’m actually a martian so I don’t have one

50. Left or right-handed?

Left (which makes me superior)

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Only if it’s touching me

52. Favourite food?

chocolate

53. Favourite foreign food?

foreign to whom?

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I love to clean and be clean but if my life gets messy, so does everything around me

55. Most used phrase?

“yas bitch” “shut the fuck up” “you’re a bunch of dicks”

56. Most used word?

fuck

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

Depends on how many songs come on that require spontaneous private dance parties

58. Do you have much of an ego?

No but I’m sure that some people think I do because of how I can present myself to others at times

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

mmmm suck it

60. Do you talk to yourself?

Theres usually around 10 different conversations happening in my head at all times

61. Do you sing to yourself?

24/7

62. Are you a good singer?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOOOOOO

63. Biggest Fear?

Never finding true love

64. Are you a gossip?

I absolutely loathe drama

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

Brooklyn

66. Do you like long or short hair?

Depends on the person

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

In alphabetical order

68. Favourite school subject?

History

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Usually an introvert but I’m very outgoing with people that I know

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

nope

71. What makes you nervous?

EVERYTHING

72. Are you scared of the dark?

I love the dark it’s so peaceful

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

I try not to be too critical of others but if I think that correcting someone would help them then I’ll go for it

74. Are you ticklish?

Very

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

Maybe?

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

Kind of

77. Have you ever drank underage?

yep

78. Have you ever done drugs?

who’s asking?

79. Who was your first real crush?

I can’t remember, I develop crushes like it’s my job

80. How many piercings do you have?

4

81. Can you roll your R’s?

Negative

82. How fast can you type?

pretty fast

83. How fast can you run?

I used to be a track star and now I can barely run a mile

84. What colour is your hair?

Medium to dark brown

85. What color is your eyes?

Green or hazel, they change sometimes (usually green)

86. What are you allergic to?

Nothing that I know of

87. Do you keep a journal?

No but I wish I did

88. What do your parents do?

Too much

89. Do you like your age?

No, I don’t like adulting I want to be a child forever 

(but actually yeah I like being independent and having responsibility for myself)

90. What makes you angry?

Pessimists 

91. Do you like your own name?

I didn’t used to but I kind of like it now

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

Yes but I’m too indecisive so I’ll probably just let my partner choose

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

All of the above and everything in between

94. What are you strengths?

I can find the good in anything (thanks mom)

95. What are your weaknesses?

self doubt

96. How did you get your name?

My parents fought over what to name me that they eventually just had to pick something

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

The bastard kids of royalty if that counts

98. Do you have any scars?

you’re trying to trick me

99. Colour of your bedspread?

Purple and gray floral

100. Colour of your room?

very pale pink, almost white

If you made it this far then thank you very much I appreciate your commitment to my insanity and I love you.

I think that everyone else was already tagged so I’m just tagging anyone who wants to do this (seriously go for it)

-Bri

[beccaboosthings]

1-99 for the random asks 😂💛

This is long so its below the cut 💖

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

(In no specific order) Crush-Tessa Violet, Choke-IDKHBTFM, Still Waiting-Sum 41, I Write Sins-P!ATD, Addicted-Simple Plan, Human-dodie

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Does my gf count? Even tho we have only met in person once?

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“You again?” Jared says (page 23 doesn’t have 17 lines so i continued onto the next page)

4: What do you think about most?

My Gf

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“I love you from” my gf

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

With

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I can do this

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

Girls are perfect. Boys are hot too. I’m v bi

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Nope

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Years ago

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I wouldn’t say that its a phobia but being buried alive

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

Nope

13: What’s your religion?

Atheist but if i were to be religious it would be christian 

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Walking my dog

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Panic! At The Disco

17: What was the last lie you told?

That I was okay

18: Do you believe in karma?

Not really

19: What does your URL mean?

Its my name

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

I would say both would be my empathy and wanting to help everyone. Like obviously its an amazing thing, but i also end up taking it too far sometimes and I end up forgetting to take care of myself. And I put others before me far too often.

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

I have like a full list, but Mike Faist

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

Nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

Crying

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Tickets from a bunch of different random stuff

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Video Chat

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Yes?

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Hate: Fingernails on jeans Love: Rain

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

What if thing never change

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Ghosts: Kinda, Aliens: Hell yes. There is no way we are the only ones in this whole universe

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Right: My fidget cube Left: an Eiffel Tower picture

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

My shampoo

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

I have no clue haha

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

East

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Brendan Urie

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

To make a difference. Even if its just in one persons life, or something super small.

36: Define Art.

Someone expressing something (feeling, emotions, ect.) through a creative medium

37: Do you believe in luck?

Kinda

38: What’s the weather like right now?

Freezing (its 29°F or -1.6°C currently)

39: What time is it?

12:43am

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

Nope, I don’t drive

41: What was the last book you read?

Dear Evan Hansen the Novel

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

Yes? Sometimes

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Bec, angel, baby, babe, ect from my gf

44: What was the last film you saw?

Heathers

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

I broke my tailbone when I was like 10 and it still hurts if I ever sit or stand for too long.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

Yes

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

the DEH novel

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

Bisexual

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

No

50: Do you believe in magic?

No

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

No. The is only one person who hurt me super badly who i still refuse to talk to because I’m still mad even tho its been years

52: What is your astrological sign?

Aries

53: Do you save money or spend it?

Both

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

The DEH novel

55: Love or lust?

Love

56: In a relationship?

Yes 💖

57: How many relationships have you had?

2 but the first doesn’t really count

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No

59: Where were you yesterday?

Home all day

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Yes my pencil case

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

No

62: What’s your favourite animal?

Dogs

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

I don’t really have one? I guess my niceness 

64: Where is your best friend?

At her house

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

(In no specific order) @slowtownstan​ @woildismyerster @daveyjacobss @robot-anon @meangirlsx

66: What is your heritage?

I’m Half English, a quarter French Canadian, and a quarter of just a bunch of random shit

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Talking to my gf

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

I have never thought of this and now I’m super curious. idk tho haha

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Yes

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

Yes

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog. I don’t care if I get fired. If my boss has a problem with it then fuck them. I’m not letting a dog die over a job

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

A) I would tell my family and close friends B) I would go spend time with my gf and do some fun shit with her and my friends C) Yes but No. Yes I would over all be scared, but tbh I never really thought I would ever even get this far in life

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Trust

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Carrying The Banner from Newsies

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

Okay I’m not doing this one haha

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Trust and communication 

77: How can I win your heart?

Being honest about your feelings and just being nice

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

Yes

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Starting talking to @slowtownstan

80: What size shoes do you wear?

9-10s

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

I have no clue haha

82: What is your favourite word?

Fuck. Its so universal and can be used in so many ways

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Blood

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

I love you to my gf

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Do it all the time by IDKHBTFM

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

Currently Purple and Black

87: What is your current desktop picture?

This

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Idk, a serial killer or something

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

What really are the depressive thoughts that go through your head everyday?

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Get the fuck out of there

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Mind reading

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Something fun from my childhood

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

All of my depression

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Does Mike Faist count? Because him or dodie

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

London

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

Not currently

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

No?

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

You matter, whatever fight you are fighting, you can get through this. Things will get better. I know it sounds cheesy but its all true.

[skinwalker-casestudy]

Working list of weird shit this girl has done specifically pertaining to the skinwalking (to be expanded upon further as time goes on, if I have proof or stories I'll make a post for it like idk this is basically a checklist) she does lots of other stupid qnd awful things but this is specifically related to wearing my skin in some fashion:

> shortly after I decided to cut my bangs she started talking about how badly she wanted bangs 24/7 and begged me to cut hers, because she "didn't have money to get them cut professionally and didn't know how to do it herself" when I asked her how she wanted them cut she said "just do them like yours". Stopped having bangs after I started refusing to cut them and she couldn't get them to look like mine on her own.

> pretended to like all the music I like when we swapped music, most notably claimed to be obsessed with mitski (this was before she blew up so it wasn't a trend thing) and punk music (which I could tell she fucking hated but every time I was like lol its not for everybody she was like no no no I love punk music :^) no.. I don't know any bands. Not even like the dead Kennedys or bikini kill or whatever)

> loves to bring up being bi even though she is really fucking homophobic (that's a whole thing) and also says she would never date a woman. Idk if she does this because of me honestly but she does this almost every time I mention being bisexual on qny context and it makes me feel weird so

> tried to pretend to have much deeper knowledge of computers than she really does because I am working/studying in q tech field. Like blatantly misusing terms and stuff to try to "help" me idk but embarrassing

> every time I find an indie artist and purchase prints and stickers from them she will start buying stuff from that artist. If I buy non-limited edition items from that artist she will often buy the same stickers/prints to the point with one's "we both liked" I started waiting for her to place orders before I made mine. I have avoided putting limited edition prints up in my apartment until after they sold out so that she wouldn't buy the same ones.

> I used to be a lot more into makeup and she pretended she was too. Bought her some brushes and stuff for a gift that she never uses, but "asks" (waits around until I do it and refuses to do it herself dropping hints the whole time I get ready) me to do her makeup whenever we go out

> begged me how to do that inner corner type of liner until I finally did it (again this was before that style really blew up and was everywhere) because I had been wearing it everytime we went out, she started doing it all the time which is uh as you can tell normal lmao but then declared jt her "signature look" several months later lol

> has bought at least several EXPENSIVE articles of clothing specifically because I owned them. As in asked me where I got something and got the same thing down to the style and colour. I tried hiding clothes from her but it's harder lol qnd she will literally go into debt or sell shit to buy these items. I'll try to find specifics later. Most of her "favourite brands" are MY favourite brands that I've been buying from for years. Literally has bought items she later admits she does not like because of this and never wears

> while we're on that subject, completely changed her style shortly after we started being friends. Went from urban outfitters/forever 21 ripped skinny jeans and cropped tops to... basically edgy "egirl" stuff. This is kind of stolen (literally as in robbed LOL) from her ex roommate too

> decided she wanted to thrift all the time and sell on depop because j said I was gonna start doing it, for some reason thought I was gonna sell the stuff for her and give her all the money? Idk.

> took a pair of Dr martens 90s no longer produced boots from me (I offered them to her before I knew she was insane because they were not my size and she swore she would wear them) and stuck them in a fucking storage unit so I'm still trying to weasel my way into getting those back. I have a pair I bought in my size I won't wear out because then I know she'll dig those little shits out of her storage until qnd make them another one of her "signature looks"

> has copied multiple of my Instagram stories/posts. Like just posted extremely similar pictures days/weeks after I posted mine.

> copies the uncommon emojis I use, literally put them in her instagram bio. Like the :^) and ♡ which she definitely picked up from me

> organized her instagram stories by year which I do. I know this isn't uncommon but like she did it right after copying q post I made and adding the emojis to her bio... lol so

> started using trippy kaleidoscope/colorful filters shortly after I did (nobody in her circle uses those qnd she sure didn't before I did because the ones I use don't make you look like a stupid fucking Bratz baby and that's the kind she usually loves)

>you can see her insta colour story go from grey/purple to colorful and it's a few months/weeks I made those changes in the filters j would use. She posts more than me so this isn't that obvious but yeah

> literally after I got my job and apartment she said a bunch of shit like "just give me six months I'll be right there with you" which first of all is not how you congratulate someone

> started going to local music venues shortly after I did. Was pissy j didn't invite her like literally brought it up because she saw me post about it(because j wanted to go alone). Tied to some post she made (mine was a story of me in a shirt I got at a show with black shorts and a belt and a specific pose/framing and hers was the same posted like a month or so later)

> oh yeah she claimed to hate the holidays when I was talking to her about how AWFUL they make me feel once but she posts constantly about being with family and shit. Idk she does this with a lot of things.

> such as body image issues lol I told her I didn't like that j gained weight in the hope she would stop commenting on my body like "oh I wish I had your thighs/ass" because that makes me uncomfortable and she was like omg me too I have horrible body dysmophia but like imo (qnd I do know this from experience) she does everything she can to stay skinny and loves to point out when things are tight on me and loose on her etc. Girlie literally won't treat her hyperthyroidism which... if you wanted it to be easier to gain weight isn't that the first thing you'd do? Hm. Brags about skipping meals etc. Anyway yeah lots of "I wish I had your body" while also making xomments about me being bigger than her or remarking on how much I ate even.

> oh!!! On the eating thing. After I told her I didn't like how I had gained weight. Whenever we would go out to eat she would stop about halfway and then INSIST j take the rest of her food. Not "you can have jt if you want" no more like "take it :^) please" and pushing it towards me SEVERAL times after I repeatedly declined before I would give in because I wanted her to stop. Really fucking weird.

> family issues in general. Pretended to be "basically qn orphan" like I literally am but like I said in the holiday post she visits them regularly and even had a family member literally paying for all of her living expenses for like a year (while she spent her paychecks buying clothes I had or said I wanted to get)

> started using the exact same shampoo and conditioner from lush as I did. Literally switched products.

> the fuxking legwarmers lol!!! I wore them out a couple times and she kept pestering me about them until I told her I just got some cheap ones off aliexpress to try them out and she got the SAME ones weeks later, I'm pretty sure she claimed this was another one of her "signature" looks too

> I wore Misa Misa pigtails out once qnd she wore them several times immediately after. Done this with a few hairstyles like high ponies or like the big scrunchies I wear.

> in pictures she would frequently try to copy the poses j would do. Also we would get in arguments about her taking pictures or videos of me without permission or after I specifically asked her to not. Literally admitted once that she was trying to get a bad photo of me and paraded it around the rest of the night because j accidentally took a Polaroid of her early lol

> has a lot of photos up now actually that j have repeatedly asked her to take down because they're unflattering

> frequently begs me to dress her when we go out, usually ends up wearing at least some of my clothes. My bestie says you can tell when I dress her LOL ♡ :^)

> back when we were in a group chat a few times she took my jokes and would tell them to other people and post about how funny they thought she was? Lol like "I said (joke) to my class and everybody was dying"

> one time I told her about a restaurant I thought she would like and invited her to go with me and before we could she suggested it to her bf and his friends as a group outing then told me about how impressed they were with her lol

> she qnd her bf made fun of me for "ruining the resale of my laptop" but putting stickers on it until she saw how fucking sick my laptop looks then she immediately went out and bought stickers to put some on her laptop (which she deliberately left bare for years prior) in a colour coordinated way similar to how I did mine

[wannawrite]

What’s In Your Lair?

who?: Wanna One’s Hwang Minhyun

genre:  🌺🌸 

type: scenario

Word count: 4168   

TW: violence, blood

blog navigator.

vamp! AU, college! AU 

it’s move-in day when you encounter your new neighbour who is welcoming and warm 

but his apartment is out of bounds, completely 

you’re determined to find out why, especially when he spends 95% of his time lounging in your apartment 

it’s official

vamp! AU is going to be a thing

probably will do one for all the Wanna One boys ??? but do request for specific people/groups annndddd thank you

@hamjji-kihyunnie

for requesting and starting off this entire series

- admin L 

The last of your boxes had just landed in your new living room, causing a pile a dust to fly. You let out a series of dry coughs, growling in annoyance. At least with the pile of boxes properly organised, you could have a good glimpse at your new home. You gaped at the interior. 

When you requested for your property agent of an aunt to find you a quality space for a reasonable price and discuss it with your parents, you didn’t exactly expect a high-class condominium flat within walking distance of your private music college. The price of the apartment probably cost the entire family’s savings! To your knowledge, both your parents worked extremely hard and had a fortune stashed in the bank. They also had a bad habit of spending an arm and leg on their only child, or rather, you. You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth but always remained humble about it. 

The marble of the kitchen island pretty much sparkled in the spotlights that hung above it. You weren’t even sure how much time you would spend in the new home you were sure of how much time you would actually reside here. You wanted to stay here until to married or something, there was no way you were moving out. 

Another cloud of dust floated by and elicited a fit of coughs from you. A groan left your mouth when you realised the amount of cleaning you needed to do. Sighing, you unpacked your cleaning supplies and stacked them neatly in your storage room. Might as well start now…… You tried to declutter the living room, slowly unpacking all the boxes and folding those that were empty, making a mental reminder to toss them out in the recycling bin later in the afternoon. First priority obviously went to your essentials such as clothing, toiletries and snacks. Those were shut in cupboards before anything else emerged from the boxes. Do I really need this much space? It’s only going to be me living here, I don’t even have a roommate. You pondered, but after seeing the pile of things you had, you decided against inviting anyone else into your presence. Phew! It’s a good thing I have a week to unpack before orientation week. There’s…so much, too much almost. 

The doorbell rang just as you had finished putting away the last of your kitchen essentials. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you as there were only three other units on this floor and it was clear that no one else was moving in. Just in case it wasn’t a prank and that an actual neighbour was at your door, you ran a hand through your hair in an attempt to neaten it and hastily smoothened your shirt. Your eyes scanned your appearance in the full-length mirror that replaced the wall next to your front door. You look…decent. It’s okay, just open the door. When you peeped at the electronic screen that screened activity happening outside your house via a surveillance camera, you saw a woman and two men standing at your door. They didn’t look scary. You decided to open the door. “Hello!” The woman chirped, beaming. “I’m Eunbin. Welcome to the neighbourhood!” As she spoke, you noticed the distinct sharpness of her canine teeth and how there seemed to be a chilling underlying silver glow that lined her warm brown eyes. Vampire. It wasn’t like you were irked by them, you knew of a few friends who were supernatural and that never affected your friendship with them. So why should her peculiarity change your opinion of her? Eunbin seemed like a nice person, but you weren’t sure about the broody boys that stood next to her. Eunbin gestured to the rather pale, almost translucent skinned boy to her right. He was oddly good looking as well. You had figured it was a common supernatural trait. When he smiled, you didn’t see any fangs unlike Eunbin, and confirmed that he was indeed a ghost. Well, something like that.  He also hovered a few centimetres off the ground. His voice was unusually melodious, it was like he was made to sing. “Hi, I’m your neighbour. My name is Kim Jaehwan.” The ghost smacked his other friend on the back, encouraging him to introduce himself. Just by looking at his features, there was only one word to describe the man that stood next to Jaewhan. Deceiving. His eyes held a universe deep within, completed with an underlying glow of purple. His face was sculpted, well-refined bone structure. You were somewhat envious, there was no denying he was insanely handsome too. He looked tired, agitated and somewhat unimpressed by your arrival but you knew you could read his eyes to identify true feelings. He seemed closed off and cold but something inside of you nudged you to prove that theory wrong. All it took was for you to shoot him your best, Vogue-worthy smile for him to melt into a blushing mess. Eunbin seemed to have a knowing smirk on her face. “Sorry about my cousin,” she apologised but didn’t seem very apologetic at all. “His name is Hwang Minhyun, he just turned 1- 23 a few weeks back.” Eunbin seemed satisfied with introducing him on behalf. Minhyun rolled his eyes and scoffed. He too had gleaming fangs and you weren’t sure whether to be intrigued or feel afraid. “I-I… Jaehwan and I s-share the apartment to your left,” Minhyun informed, stammering slightly but otherwise remained in his cold facade. “Eunbin stays a floor below us.” You nodded, thanking him for the information. In your head, you were scribbling down notes on who lived where in case of…incidents. “Do you need any help with unpacking? I think I can help,” Eunbin offered as she shuffled a few steps forward. You were too kind to accept her help yet too touched to reject her help. Jaewhan practically floated through your front door anyway. When things go bump in the night, you thought as the ghost boy bumped into yet another box passing through walls. I know who to call to come collect their mans.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you?” Eunbin asked as she fell into step with you, trudging across campus together. You smiled at her, enjoying being in her presence. “I’m good. You? I didn’t know you had classes this early.” Eunbin groaned and muttered complaints about her professor. She was a Sophomore in college like Jaehwan while Minhyun was a Junior. It seemed like she was already struggling and you offered to help with any work. “You,” she pointed you, snickering. “Could use some help.” Eunbin plucked about twenty-two textbooks from your arms and ignored your protests, flexing her arms proudly. “Vampiric strength, remember?” It had been about two weeks since you met the group of gifted friends and you felt yourself slowly warming up to them. Eunbin finally confessed - more like confirmed - that she was indeed a vampire, just like her cousin and Jaewhan… you had seen enough of him floating into your kitchen to steal snacks at 2 am. Naturally, Minhyun was always on speed-dial to collect him back. Each time he came pounding on your door in his thin cotton shirt and sweatpants, bedhead and all. A sharp contrast to his usual wear of slacks and a white button up, sometimes he swapped it for skinny jeans but he never actually left the comfort of a collared, buttoned shirt. You swore he had all the colours of the same shirt. Just thinking about him made you blush and you felt super guilty whenever he had to run to your apartment in the middle of the night. You would see Jaehwan out yourself but Jaehwan refused to allow you to walk him back. You couldn’t understand it. He insisted it was dangerous ( yes like two steps away is dangerous ) but honestly, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Jaehwan liked Minhyun to drag him out of trouble. Minhyun had the trouble of constantly apologising to you as he tugged the cheeky ghost out of your house. His irises were always borderline red, just tints of them since he was controlling himself around you. It was no lie that Minhyun was most definitely annoyed by Jaehwan’s playfully intrusive ways but just looking at how…domestic and innocent you seemed made him want to stray further away from you as much as he was tempted by the pull. He argued back and forth with Jaewhan about this issue. “It’s inevitable, hyung. I’m just trying to help,” the ghost pointed out, he intended to only make the best happen. “You’re delaying it. Stop that. It’s annoying.” Minhyun snorted and rolled his eyes. “And you think you aren’t?” He went into his room and slammed the door shut. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face, sighing. Jaehwan had a point and he hated to admit that.

Two solid knocks hammered on your front door, you frowned but heaved yourself off the sofa to answer the door anyway. You were pleasantly surprised to see Minhyun waiting on the other side. Immediately, your heart rate sped up. Whenever Minhyun was around, you felt…oddly complete, like it was meant to be. Sure, he was charming but you swore it was so much more than that. He had a likeable personality and always seemed to be a ray of sunshine with you, unlike his dead outer appearance. 

I suppose he is dead though…..literally. “Hi, Y/N. Sorry, but can we borrow some shampoo? Jaehwan’s complaining about mine smelling too fruity,” he explained, cheeks tinting pink. You blinked, not even sure if ghosts could shower but obliged regardless and went to fetch a spare bottle of your shampoo. You came back and found Minhyun in your kitchen, concentrating on examining your rack of spices. His actions caused a whirlwind of emotions to stir within you and you weren’t sure why. Perhaps you saw it as something unique to him or maybe it was a thing couples did? Yes, inspecting the spices in the kitchen, what a romantic thing to do. You snickered at your own thoughts. He is the perfect man….Boyfriend material. What the hell? “You use this brand too! I can imagine my life without spices. Did you know that-” “You could’ve just called me if you wanted to hang out,” you cut him off, nearly giggling. “But you should probably get this to Jaehwan first.” Minhyun blushed, a playful boyish grin appeared on his face as if his plans had been foiled in the best way possible. He used his vampire speed to whiz the shampoo to Jaehwan, who yelled in shock, ruining his shower sing-off. He scolded Minhyun but the vampire was back in your living room in the blink of an eye. You lounged on your sofa as Minhyun shyly scooted closer. “So,” you started. “What do you want to do?” “It’s up to you. It is your residence after all,” Minhyun replied, shrugging. He sprawled out on your sofa and grinned lazily at you, sporting his fangs. He toyed with the remote control of the television. Your heart was going to burst out of your chest at the rate it was beating. You shook your head to clear it and to calm down. Minhyun is your friend too! Though secretive and mysterious, he is your friend! It’s okay for friends to hang out. “I have Netflix,” you suggested, flipping the channels on the television. “Let’s compare you to The Vampire Diaries, or Buffy The Vampire Slayer.” Minhyun frowned, playfully smacking your arm. “Yah, we don’t actually resemble those shitty interpretations,” he grumbled sulkily. At which you laughed at but selected to watch anyway. He didn’t protest. Y/N, if it’s you, I’d sacrifice anything.

It didn’t come as a surprise when you found Minhyun or Jaehwan at your door - sometimes the duo, other times alone - anymore. They made up lame excuses to hang out at your apartment, like ‘Oh, Eunbin burned dinner so it smells awful.’. Eunbin was an excellent chef, she was majoring in culinary arts. Another one, ‘Our house is currently under attack by lizards.’. You stared blankly at them. “Well, isn’t that great that you’re both supernaturals. A ghost and a vampire. How perfect. Bye!” The door slammed on them but you opened it a few minutes later. The vamp cousins visited so often, you had your own stash of plasma fruit juice boxes. You found those extremely adorable. However, you also realised that you had never actually visited Minhyun’s and Jaehwan’s flat despite how nearby it was. Then again, none of you actually mentioned it and you would hate to chase away your new friends. Especially since you were growing quite fond of Minhyun, the unexplainable pull strengthening each day and you found yourself daydreaming about him in class. You never lost focus in your classes. It was strange. Anyway, you were determined to enter the supernatural’s lair. A plan was hatched. Since they had been such amazing neighbours and friends, you decided to award them with coffee. Well, plasma fruit for Eunbin and Minhyun. It was no trouble delivering it to Eunbin since you had slept over at her place a few times after late night study sessions. You were grateful she didn’t decide to take a bite out of you. The Hwang and Kim lair was a totally different thing. You stood in front of their door for a good ten minutes, looking for the doorbell before settling for knocking on their door. A series of complicated locks were dislodged before the dark wooden door creaked open to reveal Jaewhan. He was surprised to see you but tried to conceal it. When you peeped over his shoulder, the whole house was rather dark and dreary which did make sense since Minhyun was sensitive to light. The interior seemed sombre and very deviant, you couldn’t quite place a finger on it. It was nothing like the bubbly character of the two inhabitants. “Hi! I brought you guys coffee since it is pretty cold today. I could set it down on the kitchen counter-” you were interrupted by Jaehwan. “Oh! Thanks, Y/N! We owe you one.” He narrowed the gap between you and the door. “I’ll take it from here. It must be heavy.” “It’s fine! I can bring the tray in,” you pressed insistently, adamant on entering despite all the warning bells that went off in your head. Jaehwan shook his head and swiftly scooped it away from you. “Thanks, sweetie! We owe you!” He chorused before shutting the door and bolting it firmly. You were confused but that only sparked more curiosity.

Jaehwan let out a sigh of relief when the door closed with you on the other side, as terrible as that sounded. You couldn’t know what happened on the opposite side. “Is she gone yet?” A husky voice growled out. It belonged to Minhyun. The Minhyun of the Hwang and Kim ™ Apartment, not the one who ventured out into the world brightly, but the creature that haunted people’s nightmares. “Yes,” Jaehwan responded and put a hand on his hip. “Hyung, you can’t keep hiding the truth! You know it’s getting worse!” It was becoming increasingly difficult for Minhyun to hide his abilities. His eyes now gleamed a lucid red, claws and fangs fully unleashed. He couldn’t contain it and it was because of you. All in all, he was a Minhyun that Y/N was unfamiliar with. “You know I can’t! I can’t do this to her. She’ll never love me, an abomination! Y/N tolerates me because we’re friends but she won’t accept me for who I am. Besides, I’ll only endanger her. She can never know the truth,” he hissed, breaking open yet another blood bag to devour. “Hyung, watch it. You’re drinking too much blood to quench your increasing thirst. It could kill you. Not even plasma fruit can calm it now. Random blood bags aren’t going to cut it either! You need Y/N, hyung. Don’t do this!” Jaehwan shouted, desperation evident in his voice. “Hyung, don’t hurt the both of you like this.” His voice was on the verge of cracking. Minhyun could only glare back at the younger boy. He couldn’t let this into a fight. They were brothers, nothing good would emerge from it. He tossed his now empty blood bag into the trash and groaned, still hungry. He knew Jaehwan was right. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, giving in. Two slender fingers tapped his dark inked ‘W1’ tattoo just under his collarbone. “To be one.” He didn’t want to argue. Jaehwan exhaled and copied his actions on his own tattoo on his bicep. “To be one.” They spent the remaining moments in silence.

Friday rolled around and you were happily preparing to go to the new mall with Eunbin when she suddenly called to cancel. She sounded apologetic and explained that a family emergency had arisen. Eunbin seemed to be running, out of breath when she called. “It’s fine,” you had said, collapsing onto your bed. “I’m really tired anyway.” You reassured her a couple more times before hanging up. As you lay on your bed, your feelings for Minhyun began to sink in. You liked him more than a friend, maybe loved him and the urge to see him was even stronger than before. There was an ache in your chest that seemed more stabbing than before. You missed his kind words, you missed his strange sense of humour, you missed how he never failed to compliment you or how his smile could light up the entire room. You missed how he was confident even when his differences were apparent. Where is Minhyun? Where is he? Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen Jaehwan either. You had thought of him too but not as much as Minhyun occupied your dreams. Speak of the devil, you heard the telltale noise of clanging in the kitchen that the ghost had passed through your walls. This time, it was a different clanging. It was frantic and urgent. You burst out of your room. “Y/N!” Jaehwan called. He looked terrible. His translucent form was paler than usual, purple bags had begun to form under his eyes and he looked emaciated. “You have to come with me! It’s Minhyun!” That caught your attention and you chased after the Casper out the door, not bothering to properly slip on shoes. The pain in your chest seemed to intensify. You needed to see Minhyun. “Where is he?” You demanded, clutching your heart in fear. Jaehwan paused outside his front door, as if afraid to let you in. He appeared to be having an internal battle with himself which only made you all the more worried. He let out a string of curses and inhaled sharply. “Just promise me, you won’t run away.” You nodded. “You could never get rid of me even if you wanted to.” “I hope you keep the same mindset,” the casper flung open the door to his apartment which for once, had the windows open and curtains unveiled. “after this.” You ignored how spine-chilling it was and focused on following Jaehwan. Roars seemed to be emitting from one room and you knew that it was Minhyun. “What happened?” “It-it’s complicated. You may not like what you see. Minhyun’s sick, no, dying more like. Y/N, please don’t, don’t reject him.” Jaehwan’s words didn’t register before he shoved the key into the keyhole and twisted the door open. You took a shaky breath before entering. It was a painful sight indeed. Minhyun was chained to a bed, his normally neat button-down ripped in various places, his hair tossed messily. His skin was inhumanely ghastly, it appeared as if he hadn’t fed in months. The animalistic snarls he let out was enough to send just about everyone running for the hills but strangely, you weren’t afraid, just shocked at his state. You shuffled closer, face almost to his though he faced the other way. “Minhyun?” You gasped and stumbled backwards, nearly tipping over a bunch of bottles containing mysterious liquids. The trash bin fell over, countless empty blood bags spilling out. The red-eyed vampire glared menacingly at Jaehwan, he looked betrayed. “You promised not to bring her here!” He yelled. Anyone other than his best friends would have crumbled to the ground at the amount of power in his voice. Jaehwan shrugged, “You knew I had to.” Now, the vampire concentrated on you. His tongue flicked over his lips. “Y/N, you shouldn’t be here. You weren’t supposed to witness this. You aren’t supposed to know what kind of monster I can really be. Oh goodness,” he chuckled dryly. “The number of herbal potions I drank just to be normal for a few hours so I could spend more time with you. Now, they don’t work and we need to be forced apart.” He spotted the way your hand was constantly on your chest and groaned. “I wish you didn’t know. You think you love me, Y/N, but really, it’s the soulmate pull that’s attracting you to me. You don’t love me for who I am.” Tears were threatening to flow down your cheeks but you pulled yourself together. Minhyun lifted a clawed hand to cup your face. “It’s funny. I genuinely thought I stood a chance with you. You, you’re perfect, no burdens, no genetically modified problems. You can’t love me, Y/N. No one can,” he declared, hints of sadness in his voice but he was just numb as if he had successfully psyched himself into believing so. “What do you mean? It isn’t true,” you cried. “You aren’t thinking straight because you haven’t eaten.” Your eyes scanned the room for a pack of blood or plasma juice desperately. “It seems you don’t understand. I appreciate your optimism but my body is breaking down from the amount of blood I have downed. I now have an unquenchable thirst. It’s impossible. I’m about to die.” Then, he cracked a small yet genuine smile. “It’s nice to see my eternal love one last time before I die.” Your hand enclosed his own limp one, ignoring how his elongated claws dug into your skin. “Don’t say that! It isn’t true!” “But it is-” “Yah! Hwang Minhyun, I’ve fallen in love with you!” Time stood still once you blurted out your confession. The pain began to fade and colour slowly returned to Minhyun’s face yet he still didn’t believe it and that was what hurt the most. The tears you tried to hard to hold back now streamed down your face. “What part of that do you not understand?” You sobbed. “Why can’t you accept the truth!” You threw your arms around his neck and let your tears dampen his shoulder. “Why can’t you understand!” Why can’t he tell that I love him for who he is and not what he looks like? Are men so oblivious? ( yES thEy arE ) It was silent and cold if you may add. Minhyun tore his handcuffs apart and slowly returned your embraced, his own tears leaking as well. Jaehwan stepped out of the room to fetch tissues. “Y/N…..” “Shush!” He let out a chuckle but sighed in disappointment. “You love me, yes but how? I-I-I’m literally a guinea pig. I was used for experiments in the lab when I was child and I can’t regain full control over myself sometimes. You can’t love me. I’m hideous,” he whispered. “Hwang Minhyun, I don’t care how you look. I don’t care that you aren’t as ‘complete’ as others. I care about you. Your laugh, your words, your quirky ways and weird antics. I loved you before I knew anything and I still do,” you admitted, face burning up when you realised your compromising position and the fact that you were literally pouring out your entire heart to him. “I-I……..” Minhyun was at a lost for words, he never imagined that this would happen. That his soulmate would accept him. “Hush. You need to feed,” you said, offering your wrist out, which Minhyun hesitantly clasped. “A-are y-you sure?” “Yes!” He sunk his fangs in, hungrily drinking but he made sure not to drain you. He let out a low moan purely out of satisfaction which made a different part of you ache. The slight and harmless prick was unexpected, so was the sudden excitement. It made you slightly giddy. Minhyun locked his gaze with yours, his eyes now a glowing purple. “Are you sure you love me?” You didn’t reply in words but swooped down and captured his lips in yours, effectively shutting him up. Though inexperienced, you channelled all your passion and admiration into that kiss. He knew what his answer was.

[ecotone99]

[FN] A Midsummer Nightmare

The forest before you is ancient, and it is dark. Far darker than it should be, in the middle of the day. It is literally noon, yet beneath the heavy canopy of dark green leaves and even darker brown wood, it is as twilight, as you can see. Use your imagination a moment, if you would: at night, it will stay the same, as the moon will filter through gaps that remain elusive to the apparently lazy sun. No wind or breeze disturbs the unnatural silence between the trees, but if it did, it would stink of rot and corruption.

The algae, moss and mould just clinging to the trees is not the healthy kind. It is everywhere: just behind you on that tree, on the log behind it, even on that rabbit hopping fatally slowly to your left over there. It is slowly eating the forest alive. It is also more than capable of swallowing a human in mere hours. Painfully, and slowly.

And this is during the day. The night is infinitely more dangerous. The moonlight has a tendency to show the true nature of things, and reveal what would be hidden beneath the sun. As I said, the sun can be incredibly lazy.

The young man involved in the strange, twisted game of hide and seek is getting nervous. The beautiful woman had not set a boundary for their game, and it had been a long time since he had begun looking. Now that he is thinking with the head on his shoulders, he is getting increasingly nervous. Very nervous. She hadn’t even given him a name, and he is beginning to think that this woman he had met on the edge of the trees had not, in fact, been a woman.

If only he had come to this realisation before he had entered the trees. Very, very few ever left this place, and those that did were insane, possessed, or a myth. He doesn’t spot the movement to his left. The nymph who had ensnared the boy would be irate, to know that something has taken her entertainment. Not many humans could be lured in any more. They were too scared. So a meal such as this one is highly prized these days. She should have stayed nearer. Maybe allowed the boy to taste some of those fruits that had so quickly thrown all logic and reason from his mind.

The rustling behind him remains unnoticed as well, but, as I’m sure you can see, his great blue eyes widen at the sound of a giggle. This giggle did not come from his nymph. This giggle came from something far older, and much more malevolent. You will notice how he has tensed up. Every falling leaf, like raindrops, are scaring him into a stupor, his own shadow terrifying him into a gibbering mess. As that giggle fades away, he is suddenly all too aware of that ever-present, permeating silence. Puck has the tendency to do that. With only a small giggle, he can send the bravest creatures insane, and clear a square kilometre of the woods of any animals, great or small.

He misses the days of the courageous, who could stand against that fear, and provide a challenge, but even then, he will never refuse a little fun. Had Tilda known it was Puck who had found her morsel, she would still have fumed. But she would have fumed silently.

Things in the forest are dire and dark indeed, since Puck killed the faerie royalty. His insane tendencies that had once been so fun and endearing had taken a sour turn since the troupe of actors had escaped him, and none had escaped this nightmare he was enforcing upon the forest.

There were even rumours that Puck wanted to expand the forest, start to creep closer to the city, but none knew what would happen if they were to attempt it. Even the King and Queen, with all their power, had been scared of the consequences of such a thing. The faerie folk may be powerful in this forest, but out in the world, there were greater, much older forces at play, and they would not be happy to hear of this Puck character upsetting the balance they had so carefully achieved.

Anyway, let us return to the boy before us. He has a lesson to teach you. By now he is stark raving mad, and the small part of him that is aware of this hopes that his end is nigh.

It is.

Puck slowly comes out of one of those shadows we saw earlier, into a beam of sunlight, which, for once, actually does its job and illuminates the creature it touches.

The boy whimpers. He sobs, once, for a mother who does not know him, who is from another time and in another world. Puck smiles, and the boy dies.

Let us take a look at this character, this Puck. He has black wings, that, in his disuse, turn into tattoos that stretch down his back. He wears tight ripped black skinny jeans, and his skin glitters a metallic gold despite its matte white colour. He wears nothing else. He has black curly hair, that isn’t quite as long as the short curly horns that poke above it. And his bright black eyes, once so mischievous, glint with the light of unhinged insanity.

He leaps into movement, grabbing the body and running gleefully away, like it weighs nothing, his crouched, jagged, uneven gait unnervingly quick, and he has left our soft, grassy, leafy stage in a heartbeat.

Sometime later, Tilda, our nymph, comes looking for her toy. She finds the evidence of him in the grass, and smells the scent of death. She rages and howls, but she can also smell the sour, acrid corruption that now envelopes Puck, so she curbs her temper quickly, then slips quietly away.

And now our stage is empty. Can you guess? Do you know what message this boy is here to teach you? Do you know why I brought you here, to another world? No?

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I found the wrong world. Perhaps you are not who - or what - I was searching for. Or have you just Forgotten? Many worlds have Forgotten, and while it makes you weak, some have been known to Remember.

I am disappointed in you. But you can be fixed. Next time you pick up a quill, or a pen, or sit at a keyboard, Remember me. Next time you begin to imagine, Think of me. Write of me. Give me a little Power, and I will help you to Remember yours.

And then I want you to return here, and I want you to punish Puck. This may be a beautiful darkness, but it is a darkness nonetheless, and it is powerful. It is unbalancing my world. Kill it, and let the Sunshine create new shadows in this forest. Let the moon reveal new romantic evils, pleasurable pains and heartrending gains. Let this world create its own villains, heroes, births, deaths and conflicts under the harsh honesty of our ever-present moon.

For that, I would love you.

submitted by /u/Komposition_Kenny [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2JOIPBT

[suzyturnerbooks]

I have bunions. Yep. Bunions. A common problem, particularly with women, bunions can be incredibly painful and make wearing some shoes very uncomfortable. I usually struggle with high heels but my biggest bug-bear with my bunions was the fact that I couldn’t wear ballerina shoes. My bunions would rub against the side of the shoe which would also gape down the inner side of my foot. This drove me crazy.

So, imagine my utter relief and delight when I received this gorgeous pair from Calla Shoes. Designed specifically for feet with bunions, Calla Shoes are a Godsend for women like me.

The moment I slipped on this pair of ballerina shoes, my feet sighed in relief! They were, by far, the most comfortable pair of shoes ever. I was fortunate enough to have been able to choose a pair of Calla Shoes from their collection (and they’ve got some gorgeous heels as well as flats) so I opted for these ballerina shoes because of the problem I’d had for years before.

I’m incredibly impressed with the fit, the feel, the quality and the look of these leather shoes. I wore them out to dinner a few nights ago, when I knew we would be walking a little distance from the car to the restaurant. And they were just marvellous.

You know that feeling when you buy a new pair of super soft slippers – when you first put them on and just sigh? Well, that’s what my feet felt like all night! I don’t think I will ever look at another pair of ballerina shoes anywhere else. I’ve already told hubby I’d like a few more in other colours! This particular pair costs £90 – well worth it for such supportive and comfortable shoe that will undoubtedly last for years.

So, on to my outfit for the night. I wanted a bit of a rock chick chic look (!) and think I achieved that 😉 I decided to wear my skinny Salsa jeans and my new one shoulder sweater that I bought from Primark for two euros. Yes, two euros! Insane, I know. But as soon as I saw it, I knew I had to have it. It’s actually a size smaller than I usually get but it was the only one and, like I said, I had to have it lol.

Accessories

My clutch is from Massimo Dutti and I love it because it goes with everything! The two rings were gifts from mother-in-law (I know…. every single post, I show you gifts from her – I’m very lucky indeed!).

I decided against wearing a necklace because the side of the jumper is quite high against my neck and I thought a necklace might get in the way a bit. So, instead I wore a pair of statement earrings. They’re meant to be black butterflies but it was difficult to show that up close in the photos. I’ve had them a few years and I bought them from Bijou Brigitte in Aqua, which has since closed down. Bummer 😦 This silver bracelet was one that I won in a Twitter competition a few years ago – it came with a gold one too, which I sometimes wear together with this one.

Black coat

Because the evenings can still be chilly, I decided to take a black coat with me. The one shown here isn’t the one I ended up taking though. The sweater sleeve is a little chunky and made the coat sleeve a bit too tight so I wore another one instead.

But on this occasion, it was all about the shoes. These super soft and comfy shoes that I can’t wait to wear again! Calla Shoes – I HEART you ❤ ❤

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My bunions are in heaven with Calla Shoes! I have bunions. Yep. Bunions. A common problem, particularly with women, bunions can be incredibly painful and make wearing some shoes very uncomfortable.

[you-absolute-twat]

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

It’s too fleeting for me to answer that

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Buster Keaton 

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

‘Our boats turning nearly vertical beneath us’

4: What do you think about most?

Myself oop

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

Dad: You and Hayden were in the Canberra Times today on page 38. You star. 

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

With. Although sometimes my skin is in such a bad condition that I have to take clothes off. 

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I don’t have any

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

I like the sentences how they are though

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

No but i’ve had improv songs sung about me

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

Never oops

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I wouldn’t call needles/dentists strange

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

I mean, yes

13: What’s your religion?

N/A

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Walking somewhere

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

In front

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Not simple. Probably PTX though

17: What was the last lie you told?

I tell too many to know

18: Do you believe in karma?

Eh. 

19: What does your URL mean?

I means I’m a dickhead

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Confidence > Pretending to have it. 

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Buster Keaton/Frank Woodley

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

No

23: How do you vent your anger?

To myself in my room 

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

Theatre Tickets

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Video chatting. Not that I do it much. 

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Ye?

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Blackboard and Fire Cracking

28: What’s your biggest “what if”

...everyone hates me 

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

Nah

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Blanket/Plant

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

Nothing. 

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

???

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

???

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

???

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

To not take it too seriously. What a waste of time. 

36: Define Art.

No

37: Do you believe in luck?

Ye

38: What’s the weather like right now?

Dark

39: What time is it?

Eight thirty

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

Yes and nah 

41: What was the last book you read?

Holes

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

No

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Arnie

44: What was the last film you saw?

The Lego Batman Movie

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Broken wrists and nerve damage in leg

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

No

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

Always

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

Straight

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

Probably. 

50: Do you believe in magic?

No

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Yes

52: What is your astrological sign?

Taurus

53: Do you save money or spend it?

Spend. Help me. 

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

Jeans

55: Love or lust?

Love

56: In a relationship?

Yes

57: How many relationships have you had?

One

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

No 

59: Where were you yesterday?

Home/Canberra Theatre

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Many

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

Yes

62: What’s your favourite animal?

Snakes and Cats

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

Be goofy

64: Where is your best friend?

Probably at home

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

No

66: What is your heritage?

Dutch and Kiwi

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

Tryna sleep

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

Smith. 

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Duh

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

I hope

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog duh 

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

A, b and c

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

Love

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Left Hand Free

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

eightfiveohsix

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

comfort

77: How can I win your heart?

By being goofy as hell 

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

idk

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

Idk 

80: What size shoes do you wear?

Eleven

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

oop rip

82: What is your favourite word?

idk

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

Body

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

Idk

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

Hearts a Mess by Gotye

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

Magenta, Mustard and Black

87: What is your current desktop picture?

Me n my friends

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

The bitch

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Idk

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

walk out

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

teleporting

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

not sure yet

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

vomiting naked hahah

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

???

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

London

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

No

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

Yes

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yes

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

Heya

[allaboutd2]

“It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not“. Andre Gide

Although not always possible beyond reasonable doubt, it is often relatively easy to spot a Dsquared2 piece or outfit. But how? It is because the brand uses a series of codes, quirks, that make it recognisable as an entity. In other words it has its own DNA.

In this post we have tried to deconstruct the elements that constitute the Dsquared2 identity. Note that we will focus on menswear, without excluding a similar post related to women ready to wear later.

The Caten twins have said themselves that the Dsquared2 style was “accidental and personal”; another time they spoke of “sportswear meets the catwalk”. We decided to look even closer by putting the brand’s DNA under the microscope. Here we go, by alphabetical order.

                                                   The D2 DNA

-Back tab on pants: you will notice that on jeans, as on the majority of pants, including tuxedo pants, there is a small tab sticking out upwards in the middle of the back. This is a typical signature detail, and one that we also find on most swimwear and boxer shorts.

–Bibs: borrowed from formal dress shirts, they appear on casual shirts too, as well as on jackets or t-shirts.

-Bling: flashy doesn’t scare off the twins. Their experience as drags years ago in Milan has left its mark. Gold, neon, leopard prints, necklaces, chains, broches, Swarowsky…and all in the same pot. Often, “More is more” at D2.

-Bright colours: some collections might use ‘black, white and (blue) jeans’ a lot, yet every year, especially in the summer, the brand proposes a range of items in the brightest shades of yellow, red, pink, green, orange… often with contrasting prints.

–Canada: having grown up in Toronto, the twins never forgot their native country. From their first collection ‘Homesick Canada’ to the 20 years anniversary ‘ICON’ collection, from references to their national sport in the ‘Hockey horror Dsquared show’ to the hommage to first nation peoples in the infamous #Dsquaw show, from the maple leaf on t-shirts, underwear, sneakers…to the use of real fur, from the prints about cabins, logs, the wild, to lumberjack checked shirts…the list goes on and on.

-Cryptic prints: the prints we just mentionned range from the classic logo to unfathomable references that probably only the twins can understand. Why ‘Hues of Hockney’? What is ‘marchetting’?

–Cult of personality: not uncommon, a massive ‘Dean’, or a ‘Dan’, or a ‘Dean and Dan’ or a ‘Caten’s’, a ‘Twins’… or their own faces, sometimes morphed into some famous person’s photo, like  Dean into Marilyn (who became ‘Marildean’, see “play on words” below).

  –Denim: because when they grew up, Dean and Dan were not allowed to wear jeans at home, they made up for this frustration later in life by wearing and producing a wide range of denim items, in particular their iconic jeans, often distressed, torn, bleached…with the aforementionned red tab. To our knowledge D2 is the only brand that produces various cuts (‘Clement’, ‘Cool guy’, ‘Kenny twist’…) of the same wash (by wash we mean colour, place and size of various holes, stains…). Note that the brothers worked at Diesel before founding their own label. Who influenced whom? Hard to tell.

-Distressed style: full of holes, speckled, stained, ripped…the distressed style is not reserved to jeans, but t-shirts, sweatshirts, shirts, even boxer shorts are subject to intentional  battering.

-Formalwear mixed with streetwear: copied by many since, Dsquared2 is still the best at that. Tuxedo jackets worn with jeans, even with sweatpants, are a coined style which made us fall for the brand.

–High gorge: The gorge is this break in the lapel of a suit jacket. The higher it is placed, the taller the wearer will appear. this is a similar trick as the “short jackets” one explained further down. Just compare a D2 suit with any classic Italian tailoring and you will really see the difference.

–Higher heels: mens shoes, whether formal or streetwear, tend to have higher heels than average, from 3 to 5cm, which is an advantage for the non-giants.

-Hybrid pieces: is this a bomber? Or a leather jacket? Or a blazer? Or a cardigan? Well, it’s a bit of all the above really. D2 key pieces often combine sleeves from a type of jacket, collar from another, pockets from something entirely different…Some aficionados go crazy for these. Personally I don’t as I would get sick of a piece quite quickly, which doesn’t happen for more classic items, but I do admit that they look good on the runway, or on my friend Frederic.

–Layering: think Joey Tribbiani in friends: “Could I BE wearing any more clothes?”. That’s often what a DSQ runway show looks like.

–Leather: not exclusive to D2, but it is a fabric used in nearly every collection for  jackets and pants. The biker style is always an option at D2.

–Logos:  very appealing to disadvantaged urban youths in quest of social status, the ‘brand’ is everywhere. Logo here, logo there…To the untrained eye it makes little difference whether your t-shirt says Dsquared2 or Jack&Jones. To us, for some insane reason, it does.

–Matching what can not be matched: who else can blend oppressor and oppressed like 19th century aristocracy and first nation peoples? Who else could make trousers that include the Y front of men’s briefs? Who would have thought of having skinheads wear disco boots?…

–Play on words: these are the kind kids come up with. Just one example which will illustrate the point. In the Pop art collection, Andy Wharrol and J.M. Basquiat became Andean and Dansquiat. Far fetched to say the least, but classic Caten twins humour.

-Political incorrectness: not many would get away with a ‘homeless collection’, an ‘asylum’ collection (which included the ‘asylum sneakers’, which is as offensive but to another group)…Runway models smoking cigarettes…Sometimes they don’t get away with it and we know that the brothers have had to apologise in the past (e.g the already mentionned Dsquaw hashtag).

Homeless collection

-Pre-tied bow-ties: blasphemy for the purists, Dean and Dan have made laziness cool. Personally I prefer the imperfection of the self-tied items, and I love the ceremonial of tying one’s papillon, but as the Southern Spaniards say:  “hay gente pa’ to‘”…(there is people for everything, phrase uttered by the colourful torero Fernando “El Gallo” a century ago).

-Red tab: not a D2 invention, but probably (as we discussed in a previous post about trademarks) a Levi’s one, however the Caten brothers strategically changed its position, giving it a whole new identity, by moving it from the back right pocket to the fly of the jeans. Mirroring the style on denim shirts and jackets, the same tab was moved from the left breast pocket to the hem, beside the buttons.

–Sex: there is no lack of sexual elements in D2 clothes. First of all because the clothes themselves are often sexy. Of course this is a subjective concept: a Milanese woman and a New-York ‘bear’ will have different opinions of what sexy means, but the Caten twins actually manage to provide for all tastes in that regard. Secondly because some of the details on the clothes can have a sexual connotation. The aforementionned red tab on my crotch being an example, the visible private bits of the hare (yes it is a hare!) on the ‘horny rabbit’ t-shirt being another one.

–Skinny ties: black, with a tiny symbol linked to the collection, or the classic maple leaf.

–Short jackets: Dean and Dan are quite short…and so is the author of these lines. Smaller men have a few tricks to appear taller, or at least to minimise the impact of their clothes on the perceived height. Shortening the jacket is one such trick. D2 suits, blazers, down jackets, duffle coats, pea coats…are often extremely short, to the point of leaving the whole ass area uncovered (and we’re back to ‘sex’ as previously discussed).

-Street style: Sneakers, jeans, bare chested youths, improvised and unexpected layering, near DIY jewlery…D2 shows at times are closer to college kids hanging out than to typical Milan runways.

Surf collection

–Tailoring: with a capsule collection of nearly a dozen styles, the twins have proven to be exceptionally good at fine suits. There is one for every bodily shape, one for every season, one for every latitude. And with working cuffs!

–Tuxedos: not just an extension of the above, as über-cool odd dinner jackets were commonplace even before the suit collection was launched. Still there, in a range of interesting variations in terms of lapel coverings, colours and fabrics, alongside now the classic full evening suits named Beverley hills, Tokyo, London, Napoli…

–Urban tribes: from mods to rockers, punks and skins, preppies and glam boys…nearly every style has been explored, sometimes even on several occasions.

Mod inspired outfit

  That’s it folks. If you’ve noticed any recurring elements of the D2 DNA that we forgot to mention…let us know!

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DEAN, DAN, DNA. Part I (menswear) "It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not".