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crispyimagines17 · 5 years

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“GOSSIP GIRL: New York, New York“ (Chapter 1).

Summary: Gossip Girl, your one and only social media source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s Elite. Things begin to stagger at the Upper East Side with the return of Alana Howarth and the unexpected arrival of Timothée Chalamet, a European handsome boy and rising ruler who has come for Alana; ignoring that NYC already has an heir and prince in its realm, Tom Holland. Secrets, romance, drama and lots of champagne are our daily bread. You know you love me, XOXO.

Originally based on: R’s & CrispyImagines writers’ idea.

Written by: @crispyimagines17

CAST:

Tom Holland

Timothée Chalamet

Disclaimer: This fiction is set on our days (2019). Gossip Girl is now all over social media, Twitter and Instagram being the best sites to find hot tea. Also, for those who may ask what happens with Serena, Blair, Chuck, Dan, Nate and the original cast, they’re now grownups who set the reign and have left it for new generations.

Author’s Note: Well, I’m really really excited for this. A huge sorry for those who’ve been waiting an eternity; college and our sense of perfection got in the way. But now here it is. Hope you love it as much as we do and enjoy every word <3 (also hope this feels like watching a Gossip Girl episode).

Further author's note: So this me from the future haha I was reading this chapter and holy crap! I needed an editor for this, it's good but some scenes are garbage and just make the chapter really REALLY long. Please new reader, give my series a chance. I promise the 2nd chapter is better (check it on the masterpost). Way better. Also, I'll try to re-write this chapter to take away that shit. In the meantime, please try to enjoy my efforts.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip Girl here… And I have the biggest news ever. One of my many sources – jessica97 – sends us this;

Spotted at JFK International Airport, bags in hand: Alana Howarth. Was it only a year ago our It-Girl mysteriously disappeared for, quote, ‘boarding school’? And just as suddenly she’s back.

You don’t believe me? See it for yourselves. Thanks for the photo, Jess.

Wonder what Tom Holland thinks about her return? Not much, I guess. Manhattan’s elite prince himself was caught low-key undercover at a downtown Starbucks.

But she’s not the only surprise that comes up with foreign winds. Fresh meat sent from overseas, girls. A foreign handsome boy chatted with our Lana before taking his own way. New snack, huh?

Enjoy your mocha latte, Tom; you’re gonna need it. And welcome back, Alana.

The flight 0159 London-New York City had arrived at its destiny. And Alana Howarth breathed for the first time in a long time the air of her city. Maybe it was good to be back at home. The airport was somehow peaceful, at least.

Geoffrey, the family butler, was waiting for her in the same place as usual; near the candy shop where 7-year-old Alana loved to buy chocolates after a long journey.

“Geof!”, she took her Prada pale gold sunglasses up to her hair to glance at her old friend better.

“Miss Howarth”, the 50-year-old man who might be easily confused with Alfred Pennyworth showed her a bright smile.

“Oh, c’mon. I brought you something.”

“You’re so kind, miss Howarth. Let me take your luggage and…” Geoffrey went silent and only made a gesture with his eyebrows for Miss Howarth to turn her face behind her.

A young handsome man was decidedly walking towards her. By the Louis Vuitton travel pillow around his neck, one could say his flight had just landed too.

“Surprise!”, he shouted while shaking his hands as magicians do.

“Timothée?”, but Alana’s reaction wasn’t reciprocal. She frowned and narrowed her eyes, completely confused. “Wha- How?”

“I was on the same flight, London-New York. Literally crossed the sea to see you again.”

“But I never saw you on First Class boarding line”

“Ran late.” Before she could argue something else, he added “And asked for a seat far from yours, I didn’t want you to see me.”

“Wow… Why?”

Both youngsters were looking right into each other’s eyes; Timothée’s with a flash of hope and Alana’s were almost watery.

“I just couldn’t let you go so easily”

The following silence allowed Geoffrey to help her and cleared his throat loudly, bursting their bubble.

“Miss Howarth, your mother gave instructions to have you at the penthouse at 2 p.m.”

The clock read 1:40 p.m. Saved by the bell.

“Sure, she did. Thank you, Geof.”

“Go, go. I’ll send you a DM”, Timothée nodded and made a gesture with his hand for her to enter the limo.

They shared a brief eye contact once more before the handsome man turned back and walked away.

Overwhelmed, Alana was about to step into the limo when she heard a female known voice.

“Alana?”

“Marva?”, a brunette typical-Upper-East-Side-girl approached her with eyes wide open and eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Oh God, you’re back!”

Both girls shared a courtesy hug. Though, Alana was clearly tired.

“And… how you’ve been?”

“Cool. My cousin Jessica arrives today”, Marva answered as opened her purse to take out her cell phone and unblock it. “Well, I guess everyone knows you’re back now. It’s all over Gossip Girl”.

“Wait, what?”, Alana asked with a frown while trying to see Marva’s phone screen, but before she could read anything Marva kept it back into her purse.

“Gotta go, A. See you.”

------------------

Oh, A. New York has never been peaceful at all. You should know that more than anyone. Our princess is back, but apparently her crown has lost one diamond; what did she do last summer? And why did she return?

Down at Starbucks in the Upper East Side, Tom Holland had his phone on Do Not Disturb mode. He preferred it that way. His mother had announced him Alana’s arrival at breakfast, and he wanted to take a breath before seeing her. The last time both had spoken left a weird feeling down his chest, so he better be prepared.

Tom plopped down on his Jaguar’s leather back seats with a sigh, leaned against his back and sip his cappuccino. His mother words echoed on his mind over and over again.

“Our dear Alana comes back today, Tom. Please, don’t forget the party Margot and I have prepared for her at the Palace.”

Our dear Alana. Another sigh escaped through his mouth as he smoothed his hair back with one hand. But he had a special ringtone for Gossip Girl and its sound interrupted his thoughts, couldn’t helping himself on unblocking his device and check out the latest news.

Tom tightened his grip on his phone as his eyes read the lines about a foreign handsome man. In a single move, he dialed a number and approached it to his ear with pursed lips.

“Evan. Tom Holland here. Tell me everything you know about this man, I’ll send you his picture.”

--------------------

Timothée looked through the polarized windows with his eyes fixed on New York City. It was very American, not a single glimpse of Europe, indeed. His phone vibrated under his right pocket and as soon as he read the name on the screen, he answered.

“How was your flight, Timmy?”, a soft female voice asked on the other line.

“Good, mom.”

“Fine. Your father wondered where the private jet was.”

“Father… Asking for the jet instead of his son”, Timothée gritted his teeth and nodded ironically.

“Are you…?”

But he anticipated to her words and answered right away.

“Yeah, I’m on my way to uncle Chuck’s. Call you later… Love you too, bye.”

Chuck Bass, his mother’s millionaire cousin. They were related by Chuck’s mother, but her death didn’t make them close. Though, family is family and the Chalamet were always invited to every Bass event. But Timothée hadn’t seen him in years, he barely remembered Bart Bass’ funeral or more so, Chuck’s wedding with Blair Waldorf.

But he knew one thing for sure; his uncle had been the king of the Upper East Side, and now that he’s not a youngster then his place must be someone else’s.

With a frown and pursed lips only a true Slytherin could do, Timothée opened his Twitter and typed “Gossip Girl”, being immediately presented to an account describing;

Gossip Girl, your one and only social media source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s Elite.

He smirked.

“Time to catch up.”

---------------

February 16th, 2018. One year ago.

The sun drew a soft orange-blue in the sky, ready to let the night its way. Her Louis Vuitton luggage set laid behind her, up in an airport cart.

“Bye, daddy”, Alana kissed her father’s cheek and embraced him as a couple of teardrops fell over his shoulder.

“Take care, sweetheart”, Dr. Howarth’s nose huffed in an effort not to cry.

“Bye, Geof”, she embraced her old friend. The butler took his hat off and smiled at the Howarth girl he had served since her very first day.

“Bye, mom”, Alana kissed her mother. Though their adieu was shorter than her father’s.

A male voice echoed in every corner of the Airport, announcing the boarding room for flight 912 New York-London. Alana took a deep breath before nodding an airport butler for him to drive the cart along her side.

And without further goodbye, she walked towards the VIP boarding line.

***

Once on her seat, she asked the stewardess for a glass of water and an Aspirin. This was more than she can handle. Though, they say it’s better to tear it from the root. So, she typed the well-known user on her Instagram and found right-away the latest hit she had read a couple of days before.

In fairy tales, Cinderella danced until midnight with her Prince Charming. But on the Upper East Side, our Cinderalana ran away before dancing with our Prince T and, instead of a crystal slipper, left a whole crowd open-mouthed. Sorry T, but you had to read the tale first; Cinderella didn’t kiss the Prince on Valentine’s Day ball while he was under vodka’s spell.

Her eyes went watery and bit her tongue to hold her feelings inside. Gossip Girl having perfect timing for dropping bombs. Suddenly, Alana felt the chills running down her spine as she remembered Tom’s closeness and everybody’s eyes on them with their phones out ready to snap the moment.

And it made her sick. She shut her eyes as she leaned against her back on the comfortable seat with a sigh. This had to end, now. But gossips would always be around, and people have no mercy. That’s why she had to leave.

In a movement worthy of dramatic film scenes, Alana looked out through the plane’s window and saw New York City lights vanish before her eyes. Then, she brought her attention back to her phone screen still on Gossip Girl and decidedly clicked ‘Unfollow’.

A new beginning, far far away.

---------------

May 2019. Present Day NYC - Howarth’s penthouse.

“What do you mean dad is not at home?”

Alana frowned at the woman standing behind a desk with her glasses in the middle of her nose, focused on the golden MacBook screen.

“Well, hospitals demand a lot of him these days. And it certainly did not help the fact he had to deal with the Foundation too when his daughter left.” Margot, Alana’s mother, answered throwing a reproach glance in her daughter’s direction while interlacing her fingers to rest her chin on top.

“But I’m back now.”

“He said he’d be here as soon as his meeting with the board finishes. Maybe you can re-join your place as ‘Charity and Foundation leader’.”

“I’d love that, truly.” Alana said as a warm smile covered her face. If one thing she had missed was the Foundation and all its activities; see children’s faces when they were told their surgeries would be free.

“By the way, the Holland’s organized an evening party at the Palace in honor of your return.” Margot added, bringing her attention back to the MacBoook screen and typing fast over the keyboard.

“Oh mom…”, the prodigal daughter rolled her eyes. Margot being Margot Howarth and the socialite.

“You know they’re very fond of you. Besides, Tom and you have always been close, like cousins.” Alana’s mom took her glasses off to fix her eyes on her daughter as she shrugged. “And when Elizabeth told me about her idea, well, I thought it was hilarious.”

“Hilarious for you.”

“Alana please don’t act like a chi…”

“I’ll be on my room!”, she shouted already on her way towards the stairs. “Until I move again somewhere else”, this last muttered under her breath.

***

As soon as her foot stepped into her room, a kind of relief relaxed every muscle of her body, plopping down over her big bed. After a few seconds, the whole world fell under her chest.

“Fuck”

The very one thing she wasn’t ready to face, and her mother arranges everything as always for it to happen. Alana could’ve continued regretting her bad luck, but jetlag dominated her will and a couple of minutes later, fell deeply asleep.

***

It wasn’t until Dr. Howarth kissed her forehead that her eyes opened, and she slowly got up, still under the sleep’s stupor.

“Morning, sunshine”

“God, what time is it?”

“Six.” He answered calmly as he lend her a glass of cold water. “So, how was Europe?”

After drinking the last drop, she placed the empty glass on the bedside table and fixed her eyes into her father’s.

“Great. Thanks for… everything. Spending my Senior high school year there was the best I could’ve ever done, thank you for supporting that.”

Dr. Marcus Howarth sat up on her bed with his lips pursed in an apologizing manner.

“I’m sorry we had to leave so soon on your Graduation Day, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay. You were there, that’s all that matters.”

“You know I’m so thrilled you’re back, and more so behaving like an adult. What happened to my naughty teenager?”

Both shared a laugh. Her father had always been honest with her and knew exactly when to act as a friend or as a parent.

“She grew up.”

Marcus nodded with a proud smile on his face.

“Yeah, she did.”

A brief silence floated in the room. Dr. Howarth was about to stood up when Alana asked.

“Dad?”

He looked at Alana with a slight frown.

“I met someone”

His father’s blissful aura faded and narrowed his eyes, ready to hear the story his daughter was about to tell.

---------------

February 17th, 2018. London City.

Alana closed the door as soon as the last worker left the last suitcase and stood before the mess, but a genuine smile covered her face making it almost shine.

There she was in her new, and so far craziest, adventure: living alone. After enjoying a few minutes of peace, Alana began unpacking. It’d be a long night and she had to hurry.

Tomorrow was her first day at Woldingham School for Girls in Surrey, only 35 minutes away from her location; her father alleged she should study somewhere in London, but her mother decided that, if her daughter was studying in the UK, then she’d do it at the same school she once did. At least Gossip Girl’s realm didn’t get that far.

The bell rang, bringing her back to Earth; approached to the micro near the button instalment that controlled the gate.

“Who is it?”

Her favorite female voice answered.

“It’s me. Blair.”

“Come up!”

A couple of minutes later, godmother and goddaughter were embraced with big smiles.

“Goodness, you’re here!”

“Chuck’s waiting outside, I just wanted to see the place you… chose to live”, Blair Waldorf glanced with a frown every corner of the floor as if looking a horror show. “Seriously, Lana, you should stay at my house here, nobody’s living there. And I’ve heard Benedict Cumberbatch lives a couple of houses from it.”

“I’d like to give this place a try. But thank you.”

Blair hold her goddaughter’s hands and showed her a sincere encouraging smile.

“And remember, no matter if your last name is Howarth, you’ve always been a Waldorf.”

***

The subway ride hadn’t been as bad as she imagined. But living in London with less privileges than in New York felt good.

Alana was about to step outside the principal’s office.

“Here”, the principal handed her a bunch of papers. “Your first class had just begun a couple of minutes ago. ‘Art History’, you better hurry up.”

“Thank you for receiving me, Principal Martha.”

Both women shook hands and shared polite smiles.

“You’re welcome, Alana. It was a pleasure.”

Once on the aisle, she inspected the papers content and between them found a map of the whole campus.

“Not even Harry Potter’s Hogwarts map was that difficult.” Alana muttered under her breath with her eyes locked in the drawings of aisles and buildings.

Apparently, this boarding school was only for girls but was related to the boys’ boarding one next to this, and so, some classes were shared; such as Art History.

When she finally figured out where the hell her room was, it had already begun as the principal warned her. She was standing near the door with her eyes trying to see through the little windows.

“Maybe it’s almost finishing”

But before she decided to leave, a boy with wavy hair and indie aspect cleared his throat and touched her back with his finger. He had drops of sweat running around his face, he ran late too.

“Excuse me uh, are you coming inside?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Seems the class is interesting, I’ll interrupt the professor’s speech, maybe.”

“Mr. Blackwood’s? He doesn’t mind.”

“Really?”

His aura was full of electricity and calm at the same time. And his eyes made Alana’s impression to sound reasonable; both eyeballs were surrounded by a smoldering green.

“Yeah. Besides, if you come in with me, he won’t get mad. Trust me”

“Alright”, she answered doubtfully.

Though his charisma convinced her about the professor’s behavior, this was the first time she trusted someone who had just met.

“I’m Timothée, by the way.” He stretched out his hand to shake it with hers, something not commonly used among youngsters.

“Alana.”

Timothée gently smiled at her as he made a gesture with his hand to let her walk inside first.

“Nice to meet you, Alana. Shall we?”

***

April (one week before Summer) 2018. Woldingham Boarding School.

A couple of months were enough for Alana to feel like a Londoner. She might not know the city by heart but had connected to it in a way she never had with New York. And she barely remembered Gossip Girl or the Valentine’s ball incident.

Mr. Blackwood was in front of the whole class pointing something on the projector’s screen. ‘Modern Art’ era and music was the main subject of the day.

“So, as many of you may know or even have the honor of meeting, Hans Zimmer did change the way film music was recorded…”

The boarding school, despite what her mother commented her, had rich kids from several Western Europe countries. Perhaps Margot referred to the fact most were new monied instead of old monied as in Constance, her former high school in New York.

Timothée was sitting next to her in the middle row.

“He’s getting sentimental.” He turned his head and whispered near her ear.

“Shh.” Alana giggled.

“He is. Jesus, I told him to follow his dream, get his butt to Hollywood and ‘boom’ the Oscar goes to Joe Blackwood for Best Original Score”

Blackwood crossed his legs as he leaned his arms over the desk behind his back.

“Alexandre Desplat finally received his Oscar, but… Alright, back to topic, please eyes on the screen.”

Everyone did as told. Unlike other classes, this one gave them the opportunity to flirt, so in exchange they obeyed the young and cool professor Joe.

“The following video reflects what we’ve been talking these weeks; the power of music.”

Letters – Abel Korzeniowski

Lights had been turned down, leaving the room in complete darkness until two dancers appeared on screen. Their performance was so beyond perfect it almost made her wince.

Once the lights were on again, Mr. Blackwood’s excitement filled his face and voice.

“You see? Every note was sintonized with every movement. Did you feel the passion?”

A moment of silence between the students reigned in the room, until Timothée broke it and everyone’s heads turned in his direction.

“Indeed, Mr. Blackwood. The sequence of the young man reading his lover’s letter reflects pure desperation and pain. Ballet is quite misunderstood sometimes, just bodies moving doesn’t make any sense… But when music accompanies this, it’s… Art.”

His velvety voice was casting a hypnotizing shadow on his very feature. Everyone’s eyes were glued on him. However, it wasn’t interest what she saw reflected on them but a weird mix of respect and fear? She wasn’t sure.

And when he finished his comment, Mr. Blackwood cleared his throat bringing the class’ attention back to the desk where he had been without moving, also spelled by Timothée’s charm.

“That’s art, ladies and gentlemen. Your final Project is about this video, I want an essay on my desk by the end of the week.”

***

Ten minutes later, Timothée and Alana were walking down the aisle in silence.

“What are your plans for this summer?”

She glanced at him with a slight frown as she let out a chuckle. That was unexpected.

“Head back to New York, maybe.”

His eyes were fixed on her, ready to perceive any reaction on her feature while both kept walking.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

Suddenly, her face changed to a completely speechless expression. So, he decided to add more and ease her a bit.

“Yeah, road tripping all over Europe. Or at least Western Europe before senior year.”

Nothing. Her eyes were blank.

“Don’t tell me Summer at the Hamptons sounds better.”

Two blinks. And seconds later, a smile.

“No… Uhm, you know what? I’d like a road trip… Very much.”

It was true, another summer listening to her mother’s speech was the last she wanted to do. Or facing what she left.

---------------

May 2019. Present Day

***

Spotted: The airport handsome young man stepping into the Empire Hotel. There are only two reasons a stranger would walk in with such determination; he’s a guest in a hurry or he’s visiting our former prince Chuck Bass.

***

NYC – Bass’ penthouse.

The elevator door opened and Timothée walked into his uncle’s penthouse. He had his hands inside his pocket as he stared the whole place; it must be the biggest penthouse in New York.

Chuck Bass appeared in a blue suit, holding a glass of whisky on his right hand.

“Timmy, long time no see!”

Bass handed him the glass as he approached to his mini-bar and served a drink for himself.

“Indeed, uncle.”

“Your mother?”

“She’s fine but couldn’t come. You know, Europe is-“

“Her home. That’s what she always told me when we were kids.”

His uncle made a slight gesture for him to seat over the couch.

“And your father?”

“Business.”

“Chalamet… Guess his new empire got him pretty busy.”

Timothée nodded before drinking a sip of whisky.

“I still remember when my father learned your mother was going to marry your father Domenico, a nobody, as he called him.” A hint of a playful grin showed over his face. “He surprised us all when suddenly bought your mother a mansion at Monte Carlo and had investors everywhere.”

A naughty smile covered Timothée’s face as a memory crossed over his mind at the mention of Monte Carlo.

“Oh, that mansion… Got some cool parties over there”

Chuck joined him with the same smile.

“You got that fun sense from your mother’s family side, particularly me.” Chuck blinked as he reminded himself the main subject of that chat.“But, what can I do for you, nephew?”

“Well, I’m pretending to stay here for a while. Yale haven’t accepted me, but Columbia already did and just wanted to let you know.”

“You already found where to live?”

“Yeah, they’re sending my luggage there.”

Again, the elevator doors opened but this time Serena van der Woodsen stepped inside, announcing her hurried way.

“Chuck it’s me! Just came for something Blair left and…”

She was open-mouthed for a splice of a second, before approaching to Chuck though not taking her eyes away from the young man sitting in front of him.

“Serena, this is my nephew Timothée Hal Chalamet.” Both stretched hands politely. “Timothée, this is Serena van der Woodsen, my wife’s best friend.”

“A pleasure.” Serena, despite the years, still glowed in beauty showing him her characteristic smile. “Maybe you’d like to join us tonight. It’s at the Palace, Blair and a friend organized a party to celebrate Alana Howarth’s return.”

“Come, Tim. Blair would be delighted to see you.”

The young man raised his eyebrows in surprise at the invitation. He pretended to be speechless for a few seconds just before a big smile wrote all over his face.

“I’d love to. Thank you so much”

Well, he had to admit it. That insane egocentric philosophy ‘The Universe conspires in your favor to achieve your purposes’ proved him wrong. Thank you, New York.

---------------

May 2019. Present Day

***

Spotted: A prince with bewilderment written all over his face. Poor T, here’s an advice; if you need help, don’t ask Cupid nor Saint Vodka.

***

NYC – Holland’s penthouse.

Tom was under a warm shower. As soon as he arrived, he locked his door and went straight to his bathroom in an attempt to slowly regain his senses and clarity. He later changed warm for cold water, running his fingers through his hair and sniffing loudly at the freezing touch.

A couple of months ago, he would do this same thing and more, and still say he deserved this pain for what he had done. But today, his mind had changed. Now, he did it as a knight would’ve prepared his horse and his best sword before battle.

Evan was fast, his best informer in fact. Tom was quite pleased by his efficiency; he still hadn’t reached the building when already had the file on his phone. It took his informer less than an hour to get everything about Timothée Hal Chalamet and gather it onto a file.

The first pages were enough for Holland to understand what this man was doing here. He felt blood running faster than ever through his veins, his breathing sped up, clenched his jaw hard and his body was almost trembling in rage. So, he got himself into the shower.

And there he was.

“I fucked up, Alana… I fucked up everything.” He shut his eyes, trying to hold tears inside. “And now this son of a bitch appears from Nowhere…”

Tom couldn’t blame him for the main title in the first page.

“Timothée ‘The King’ Chalamet”

He had laughed when he read it; only someone stupid would name himself a king and add it to his own name. But his smile faded as he kept analyzing and reading newspaper headers.

Chalamet had earned his nickname in late years, by heart. All over Europe, people recognized him as a nice charismatic and gentle young man when regarding adults. But among youngsters, a different story surrounded his name.

Not that he was terrifying or a murderer, a psycho or whatever. Not at all. He was more like a plague. A virus that entered through your ears and eyes.

Newspapers described him in few words as a promoter of good, mainly when he attended to hospitals or charity events. They ignored completely his scandalous life. Early on, his social status had remained low-key, almost nonexistent if not for a couple events his family attended hosted by the Bass family. His debut in true high society had been at the age of 11, when his family moved to Monte Carlo and since then have enjoyed a very wealthy life.

Though, he began building his realm in an Italian boarding school when he was 14; a professor was fired. Nobody really knew the reason; some said that had been because he had seduced her, others said that she scolded him after class for not delivering his homework on time and he turned things around until she cried, and others said she sneezed very close of him.

Later, at the age of 16, when his name was known in several Western Europe countries, he offered a party in Amsterdam. Some say celebrities such as The Weeknd and Cristiano Ronaldo were there. And more parties like that were hosted by him; it’s said Ed Sheeran got inspiration for a song that later became his hit ‘Shape of You’ while he attended one.

Although, when Chalamet turned 18 and moved to London, he settled down and devoted to Art in a calm boarding school.

“Months later, just after he decided to agree a kind of armistice with his realm, Alana comes to his life… And everything because of me.”

The water had ceased falling and Tom reached a towel, drying his face first and breathing deep while blaming himself.

“But this motherfucker is not in Europe. This is New York.”

---------------

Summer 2018

Seventy summer nights together. Perhaps Shakespeare, Nancy Meyers, and the whole bunch of screenwriters who wrote romcoms about summer loves were right. And she’d confirm it a thousand times… She hadn’t felt better in a long long time.

Alana chuckled and bit her lower lip from time to time as she reviewed her phone gallery with all her on-the-road memories.

He had told her this was his favorite, thus he set it as his lockscreen.

This was Paradise. Although the deal was road tripping, some luxury wouldn’t do any harm. She couldn’t even believe the beauty in the view their shared suite enjoyed.

The sound of the glass door from the shower made her immediately smile as the picture of Timothée with a towel wrapped around his waist filled her eyes.

He smiled at her too and turned around to open the mirrored cabinet and look for his Hugo Boss cologne. Once he found it, he poured some over his hand and dispersed it around his neck.

“Ready for your surprise?”

Alana smirked. Her eyes had been focused on his movements she didn’t expect that.

“What? You didn’t tell me”

“Oh, it’s true. I forgot to tell you about your surprise, maybe cause that’s what surprises are. A SECRET.”

“You’re a bad bad guy for not telling me.”

He walked towards her with a mischievous smile.

“But I’m YOUR bad guy.”

Timothée approached slowly and then captured her lips with his in a long and soft kiss. He cupped her face in his hands after pulling away.

“Go, babe. Get ready.”

Now was her turn to take a shower. Life couldn’t be better.

***

“Oh God. Timothée you didn’t…”

Alana was open-mouthed as she looked through the window how the limo drove them to the front door of the auditorium. A big poster announced tonight’s event: The 1975 in concert.

He rejoiced in his success for making her that happy.

“I did, darling. I did.”

“But- wh- how?”

“Let’s just say Matty Healy owed me a favor.”

“You know Matty Healy? Oh, dear heaven…”

Once inside the complex, another surprise came for her; Matty reserved them special seats in the front row. This had to be a fucking dream, one Alana wanted to never end.

The lights were all off, only a few white shadows were visible. Some guitar chords resonated. And suddenly, a blue neon light lit up the stage. Robbers characteristic sounds shouted making the whole crowd crazy and she couldn’t help herself but joining them.

Timothée just looked at her, at the shine in her eyes reflecting those lights and felt his heart melt. When he remembered the lyrics, he also joined the crowd and the woman next to him.

The group played a lot of songs more, connected, laughed and played with their audience. Matty even mentioned them:

“A few friends of mine are here tonight. Hope you’re enjoying this. ARE YOU ENJOYING THIS PEOPLE?”

As the end of the night came closer, the illumination changed slowly until a violet-pink light colored the stage and a kind of white smoke covered the arena. One more song and it’d be over.

It was ‘Somebody Else’. Alana’s favorite song from The 1975. Her eyes went watery as a soft smile wrote over her face.

He felt it too. Countless times he had told Matty this was their best song ever, so when it began playing Healy looked at him and blinked an eye before singing.

Timothée pressed his body against hers with her back touching his chest. He wondered if she could feel his fast heartbeats. Though she did nothing, but wince at his touch that only sent shivers down her spine.

He was a few inches taller, so his breath moved some strands of her hair. His hands ran down her arms until it reached hers and hold them as both crossed their fingers; hand to hand. Slowly, he led their arms to raise them above their heads and move with the music.

And if there’s a thought, it was a lie.

Two bodies, two souls, two hearts. Dancing together. Being one.

“Let’s keep dancing, let’s do it”.

Matty said to the audience, but Timothée felt the message had been more for him because he saw the way he danced with Alana. Yeah, he perfectly knew what Healy wondered and he was right; The King fell in love.

***

Backstage, Timothée introduced Alana to The 1975 members.

“You guys enjoyed the concert?” Matty asked as he grabbed a bottle of water.

“Hell yeah. It was amazing, you guys are AWESOME.”

Her smile was infinite. Almost nothing in the world would make it fade.

“Thank you, thank you. And what are you both doing? I mean, you wanna join us at the after-party?”

The couple looked at each other’s eyes and immediately knew the answer; they wanted to spend the night together at the hotel.

“Maybe next time, Matty. But thank you.” Timothée answered as he nodded to his friend.

“The King shall rest.”

The singer and Timothée shared a masculine hug before Alana took a picture of them with her Polaroid.

“Was a big pleasure seeing you, man. And hope to hear more from you, Alana; you gotta be The Queen.”

***

Alana stood before the mirror and started removing pins from her hair.

“What a night. I still cannot believe it.”

“Pure magic”, Timothée said standing behind her and slowly approaching to retake the same contact as in the concert.

Both looked at their reflection and stayed in silence for a minute before she turned her face to meet her lips with his in a soft kiss.

“Do you love me?”, she asked.

Instead of answering, he kissed her again but desperately this time. Her back hit the nearest wall as he deepened the kiss and unfastened her robe before kissing her neck.

But suddenly he stopped. The Killers Mr. Brightside’s chords coming from her purse interrupted the moment; her phone was ringing. She reached for it and her face paled when she saw the name flashing on the screen; Tom Holland.

She tried to collect herself, speechless as hesitance prevented her from making what her memory commanded her almost instinctively. Her thumb struggled between two choices; she answered, obeying her brain’s will.

“Alana?”

Alana winced at the sound of his voice, though she couldn’t utter a word. Timothée stood behind her as he smoothed his hair back with both hands, confused and frustrated.

“If you’re listening… Oh God, I-I-I don’t know what time is in your location, maybe it’s late or… not,” he began with jitters and hesitance cracking his voice. “Listen, it doesn’t matter if you’re a couple hundred miles from Japan… I was wondering if you have plans tonight.”

He made a pause, waiting for an answer or at least a reaction on the other line, but Alana kept frozen in her place, so he took a deep breath to encourage himself and continue.

“Maybe we could talk. Please, let me explain what-”

“Stop!” Alana exclaimed with an angry yet broken voice and hung up the phone.

She stood there for a couple of minutes more, with her eyes glued to the window view facing the darkness of the ocean at night. And when she finally faced Timothée, who had his eyes fixed on her, she swallowed hard. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, pale as ghost.

“I’d like to get some fresh air… Alone.”

He nodded with a slight worried frown. It was clear she had to make an effort to utter a word. He leaned against the couch, letting a sigh escape from his mouth.

The phone rang again. Mr. Brightside’s chords again over the bed.

Timothée answered.

“Alana? Please, listen to me. I-I-I’m so sorry.”

As soon as he heard a male voice, and even more after listening the weak apologize, his blood boiled.

Who the hell ever dared to hurt her?

He clenched his jaw when he read the name; Tom Holland.

***

When Alana crossed the door and entered their suite, a huge relief relaxed every muscle of Timothée’s body. A part of him told him not to, but he couldn’t help himself on pulling her into a tight embrace.

“Thank you.” She whispered over his shoulder before pulling away. “I’m sorry for leaving like that…”

His eyes were filled with tenderness for the woman standing face to face.

“No need to apologize, Alana.”

“Yes, I have to. We were having OUR moment and he suddenly calls with perfect timing and everything came back…”, a knot formed in her throat and her voice broke against her will.

Timothée immediately placed his hands over her shoulders, ready to pull her again and protect her. Only God knew what he was capable of if that man placed a finger on her without consent.

“What? He did something to you?”

Even though her voice was now recovered, he could tell it wasn’t easy for her to talk about it.

“Not exactly. There’s a stupid site called Gossip Girl that makes public everything that happens on the Upper E…”

Her lower lip trembled, perhaps as a sign for trying to keep the calm. So he made a decision; no more pain.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me right now if you don’t want to.” Alana fixed his eyes into his in utter silence. “This is your fresh start.”

“A fresh start.” She nodded.

“The past is on the past”, he gently grabbed her by the chin. “Don’t feel you gotta tell me everything that happened before we met… Let’s make a deal, okay? Like… Hakuna Matata.”

She chuckled. And this relieved him in more than one way.

“No worries, no bad experiences, just today. Present is all that matters.”

“That sounds promising”, she said with a soft smile spreading across her face.

His thumb caressed her chin while both stared straight into each other’s eyes.

“It does, yeah. So… deal?”

“Deal.”

Timothée holded her right hand and kissed it as he promised himself he would never let her go.

---------------

The Palace. Present Day.

The terrace was crowded by those distinguished guests who were, in Mrs. Howarth’s opinion, indispensable to celebrate her daughter’s return.

Tom had arrived earlier than everyone hoping she’d come with her mother. But she didn’t. People started arriving and there was no sight of her. He was sitting at the Palace hotel bar, taking a sip of scotch as he tried not to check his phone again. One hour. One hour late to her own party.

Just when he was about to believe she wouldn’t come; a waiter tinkled a glass to gain everyone’s attention and music stopped. His mother and Margot Howarth stood mid-stairs with a microphone each in their right hand.

“Good evening”, his mother said.

“Thank you for being here, it’s a pleasure for us to…”

Margot’s voice was in the background while Tom kept glancing in every direction to see if Alana was around. But the face he recognized from the pictures made him grip his scotch glass a little too tight; Timothée Chalamet. What was he doing here?

“Well, she doesn’t really need an introduction. Ladies and gentlemen, my daughter Alana Howarth.”

The words resonated in his ears as Tom instinctively turned his face at the stairs. Everyone clapped joyfully.

“Thank you, mom. And thank you, Mrs. Holland. I’m so glad for being here with all of you…”

Still not a minute went by when her voice seemed to have everyone under a spell, as always. Her charm to connect with people had always been her strongest gift.

“…hope to rejoin the Olivia Howarth Charity Foundation and serve our people as it’s meant to be”

More claps. People loved her benevolent soul.

As she walked down the stairs, Alana made eye contact with Tom, but she looked away almost immediately, paying attention to Blair Waldorf and the couple talking with her.

***

Wind wasn’t blowing in Tom’s favor.

Alana had done everything in her power to keep herself busy eating canapes and talking about the beautiful flowers or the dress of Mrs. Perkins with every guest. With this luck, the night would end before he could approach her.

The clock read 9:40 p.m; it was now or never. Tom walked towards Serena van der Woodsen who was standing with a group of people, however when she saw from the corner of her eye her godson, she excused herself and turned to meet him.

“Auntie, I need your help”, Tom said handing her a glass of champagne.

“What is it, Tommy?”

She stared at him with a worried look on her face.

“You see that guy over there?” He glanced at Timothée’s direction talking with Chuck Bass and a couple more businessman. “I need you to distract him so I can have a word with Alana.”

“Oh, I saw him today with Chuck Bass. He’s his nephew.”

“I know. Would you talk to him while I’m with her, please?”

“He’s not with Alana, why don’t you just simply ask her?”

His eyes traveled the whole room.

“It’s… complicated, auntie S.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it, but please Tom don’t make a scene”, Serena placed one hand over her godson’s elbow. “It’s classic of Gossip Girl haunting for something in parties like this one.”

He nodded as putting on a smile and taking a step back from her.

“Don’t worry, auntie S.”

Serena went to the canape table and grabbed two, one for Chuck and one for her, then she headed up to their direction. Timothée welcomed her.

Fortunately, Alana was with a group of women who appreciated him very much. Confident of himself, he took a deep encouraging breath and he took three long strides to stand before her.

“Good evening, ladies.”

A couple of them raised their eyebrows, but they welcomed him nicely.

“Oh Tom dear, we were just talking about high school.”

“Thank God we graduated”, he chuckled, and the group joined him in his polite laugh. His charm might not be as powerful as hers, but it worked, and he used it. After the laugh faded, he cleared his throat. “Alana may I have a word?”

He got her. Fuck. The only thing left for her was nod and force a smile.

“Excuse me.”

Tom led her to a balcony away from the party, not without looking around to make sure no one saw them. In the midst of nervousness and excitement, Tom missed a pair of green eyes watching from the other side of the terrace.

Once outside, Alana turned to face him; she wasn’t chickening out this time.

“Tom, please don’t do this.”

He raised his hands as an innocent man would do in front of a cop.

“I just have to say something, please”

Her eyes were locked on his while she shook her head as if begging him not to press his finger over the wound.

“Don’t, don’t go there.”

“You just need to hear it.” He took one step to be closer to her, and when his mouth opened his voice had a soft sound. “I’m sorry, Alana. For that night. I never wanted to disrespect you or make you feel so bad for you to leave the city and…”

“I didn’t leave because of that!”, she cut him off.

His lips parted, looking genuinely confused. She shut her eyes for a brief moment before letting go a tired sigh.

“Jesus! What happened was the drop that spilled the glass. One day I woke up and… I didn’t want my life to be the way it had been with Gossip Girl shouting every party I hosted or even if I sniffed.” Alana swallowed hard and prayed her courage wouldn’t let her voice fail. “I… thought it’d be enough if I just stayed at the edge, but on Valentine’s…”, a complex mixture of rage and sadness were threatening to crack her voice, but she collected herself before tears flood her eyes. “The very person I cared the most about… showed me this world wasn’t for me cause no one would be truly a friend.”

She let the words hit him as she bit her lower lip in a last attempt not to cry. It still hurt.

“And, you know the rest.”

Silence set between the two of them. Tom was shattered; she had trusted him, and he failed her. He failed. And her words explained a lot of things but one. Tom tried to swallow the knot that formed in his throat.

“So, why you came back?”

“My aunt Blair told me Gossip Girl’s gift for Upper East Side grads was a clean slate for college. That’s why I’m here. A new beginning in New York, with my family.”

“I called you a thousand times and you were mad with me.”

Alana exhaled loudly and her rage seemed to come back for a second.

“I was, right. I knew you had feelings for me, and that night I expected you’d do something. And you did, but under alcohol’s effect. In front of the whole class with their phones out.”

“And I would never forgive myself for that”

Once more, Alana shut her eyes trying to control herself. When she got it, her eyes opened with a calmer pace and saw a dark knight walking towards them. Tom had his back to him and didn’t feel him coming.

“The past is in the past, Tom. Wish you a good life.” She administered the coup de grâce.

“Alana, please…”

Tom lifted his right hand to caress her arm. But Timothée’s hand stepped in the way, pushing his hands away before he could touch her.

Alana rolled her eyes, tired of this drama. She glanced at both men and moved a strand of hair out of her face.

“My dad should be wondering where I am”, she said as she brushed past Timothée making his shoulder move.

As soon as she left, Tom pushed sharply away Timothée’s hand with pursed lips and clenched jaw.

“Who the fuck you think you are to interrupt us?”

Timothée stared at him with a quirked eyebrow, challenging him as a mocking smile threatened to set free at the corner of his lips.

“Would say it was over before I came.”

“Listen to me you…”

But his sarcastic feature changed in a blink of an eye into serious, taking a step closer to him.

“No, YOU listen to me; you got your opportunity and you lost it.”

“Use your words carefully, you’re not in Monte Carlo anymore”, Tom warned him.

“Yeah, that’s what Google Maps says”, Timothée raised his eyebrows as he nodded with a smile.

“Alana would’ve never trusted you if she knew every thing I know about you”, Holland furrowed his eyes while putting his hands inside his pocket.

“And you think she’d believe a word you say?”, Chalamet scoffed. “Wake up, Thomas. She’s not under your mercy anymore.” He enjoyed the face Holland made, speechless. “Do yourself a favor and move on.”

Though, the prince reminded himself his advantage.

“You don’t know her at all. No matter how much time you’ve spent together, the good stuff is on the details and that’s something you won’t get.”

This hit Chalamet hard.

“Are you threating me?”, the European king asked sounding annoyed.

“I’m warning you”, now Tom used Chalamet’s same attitude with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

The atmosphere got heavier as both young men stared at each other with rage overflowing from their auras. But before one could do anything else, Nate Archibald walked towards them with a drink in his right hand.

“Tom? Here you are. Serena’s been looking for you. She’s inside.”

Whether Serena was indeed looking for him or not, Nate prevented him from making a scene and so, Tom had nothing to do but walk away with Nate.

“Thanks”

Alone, Timothée stared at the amazing view.

“New York, New York”

---------------

The identity of the mysterious airport handsome man was revealed; Timothée Chalamet. But our prince is not delighted by his presence. Looks like Manhattan’s Elite might quake with their outstanding chemistry to light a bomb up.

Alana, you did have fun in your year out… Enjoy your clean slate. I know it won’t take much time for you to dirt them up.

You know you love me, XOXO

Gossip Girl.

TAG LIST: (tagged those who asked but feel free to let us know if you want to be removed or added)

@clairesrainbow; @noobmaster63; @claryaki; @silverscreenkid; @vogueworthy-barnes; @persefoneaurispa ; @izdevett ; @mae-petite-etoile ; @tpwkal; @meliketozier; @aliceinwhateverland; @justcallmenameless; @kathrynisadogperson; @loricwizardbluetoastedcake; @vintageroses1014516; @im-not-edgy-im-just-pretentious; @xlilmultiimaginesworld; @sunnygubler; @agentcvrters; @adorablehumanbeing; @goingwiththewind; @rachel-mc11; @candycxorn; @bruvberta; @justficsandstuff

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crickey-itsjake · 5 years

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Friendship Firesale: 50% OFF || A Lake

Though Jake wasn’t one to actually gossip or keep connected, the Uppercrusts and Tritons were hard to ignore.

He was out with Sparky at the market and he’d heard something from an old man about Bradley being falsely accused. He’d been at Hatter’s and overheard the glaring barista talk about how Bradley would probably just pay his way out of a sentence for assaulting a Triton because of his white male privilege. He’d been walking through the labs to check on a couple projects and feed the herpatology lizards when he heard a few graduate Chemists whispering about how, everything for the last few weeks suddenly made sense. He heard Alana’s name and immediately slowed his pace. Was her sister in trouble? He leaned against the doorframe, pretending to read over the lab protocol he’d printed out for the Magizoology TA’s.

“Well, ya know Alana called out that whole week. No wonder. I can’t believe that that happened to her. In Swynlake of all places? We’re such a close community.“

“Bradley’s ruined for sure.”

“I wonder if Alana and Bradley were both on Fey’s, you know this isn’t the first time either of them have partied too hard.”

Alana.

He’d seen her in the hallways at their apartment complex (or rather, Sparky had smelled her and bolted directly for her) a few times over the last couple weeks but she’d always been in a rush to get away from him or something. She looked exhausted too but he just figured it was her being frosty towards him again. They’d had one or two warmer interactions, but there was really no telling with her.

As he walked home with a Sparky trotting by his side (bloke was still happy, still unaware) more confirmations that Alana was involved continued to go around. Those magical texts that Swynlake had just sent off opinions about what happened to just about everyone. Was he supposed to say something? They were like friends or something right? Part of him wanted to find Bradley and deck the shit out of his smarmy face, but he was Swynlake’s only Agent right now. He had too much responsibility to act like ole Jake from the Outback. So the other part of him won out. He’d have to approach her somehow. Well, he knew how, Sparky would do that plenty eventually.

He grabbed some of his mail and saw that someone had a few pieces at the top of the series of mailboxes, probably got sorted into the wrong one and they were too lazy to slip it under a door. He checked through to see if it was any of his and saw a bright coupon card with balloons.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR LOYAL CUSTOMER ALANA TRITON

Well that was just perfect. He took the piece of cardstock and figured he could at least slide it under her door or something. Scented candles or somethin’ would cheer her up right? She was into like... bath bombs? He walked down the hallway with the plan of just sliding it under her door, but he should’ve really known that Sparky had other plans. Against his wishes, the dog took off, barking loudly and happily at the door, scraping his little paws at the front door. He tried to quickly shove the card under and make a break for it, but the door had already opened and he just stood there, half bent over. He quickly recovered as Sparky attempted to leap at the girl in front of him, standing up and holding the card between his index and middle finger, offering it to her with a sheepish smile.

“Was on the mailbox. Figured you’d want your birthday savings. 60% off scented candles is not somethin’ to pass up.”

@alana-the-badbitch

#a lake #tw: victim blaming #read more just in case #idk man #tw: drug mention #tw: assult mention

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lucefrs · 4 years

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[ snoop dogg vc ] greetings loved ones ! yes im referencing songs from 2010 , if u see me having a mental breakdown about 2020 marking the end of the decade it’s fine jus look the other way x anyways , hi hey i’m tasha and i’m v excited to be here ! lit rally trying to think of a fun fact abt myself , but my brains rly like no thoughts head empty .. but uk who cld tell u a lot of facts abt themselves ? my bb luce ! amazing segway ik .. without further ado ...

⌠ ALANA CHAMPION, 21, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome to gallagher academy, LUCIE ‘LUCE’ FREAR! originally hailing from BELFAST, IRELAND, they were exposed to too much during the protest, and the academy is now in charge of their safe care. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of wrinkled charity shop tees adorning bands she’s never heard of, a rushed manicure on calloused fingers and a wash of mottled purple hues under her eyes. when it’s the aries’s birthday on 4/3/1998, on the bad nights they request their FRIES WITH EXTRA SALT from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re safe in witness protection.

backstory .

lucie was born in northern ireland to a middle-class family , very involved in one another’s lives ! growing up she was engrossed in american culture , through music mostly .. through bruce springsteen mostly .. but also all the super-american teen tv like 90210, the oc, gossip girl etc ...

thus, she was pretty dead set on moving to america asap , because rationale ? realistic expectation ? she has none of that . zero , zilch . she’s always been pretty fiercely independent , making her way and winding up in sticky situations more often than not , but that’s also kind of the way she was raised , a v much drifting in n out one another’s lives , running into ur pop at the pub , deep chats at 2am when ma’s up knitting for wtvr reason and she comes stumbling in red-eyed n heartbroken by another guy in a shitty indie band .

so while there were def tears shed when her family saw her off at the airport , they were emotionally supportive , even if they cldn’t be financially supportive n that honestly still means the world 2 her . she misses them a lot , cries abt it sometimes rip . how did she have the money to hop the pond ? well . she didn’t .. she’d saved enough ( odd jobs here ‘n there ) for the plane ticket , n bnbs for a couple of months n figured she’d wing the rest of it , had no plans of going to college

her inability to hold a job made her reconsider , she spent way 2 much time talking to the customers , or going off with them which wld always lead to a spat w/ her superiors , probably always in the wrong , but that wouldn’t stop her from parting w/ some poorly constructed rant abt how capitalism was ruining everything , def the type of gurl to get whatever she knows abt marx from tumblr dfghjk

uk when walter white calls jesse and asks if he has plans and he’s like yeah ... and then walt roasts him n says eating cheetos watching porn and masturbating does not count as plans .. a direct @ at miss luce . but in the midst of that n endless swiping on tinder n seeking arrangements , she gets a sugar daddy . iconic , her mind . uses the pleading eyes emoji like pay for my tuition pwease n thats how she ends up at georgetown

she gives school her best effort but she can’t commit 2 shit , so she’s kinda just vibing there , skipping classes whenever , going to all these events n eventually winds up befriending a lot of the protesters , b/c she sees the passion n purpose they have n is just kinda hoping some of it will rub off on her . a bit broken up abt the deaths , but also feels like a fraud b/c she was just there , n all the protesters r like in it in it , n she’s somehow got them to believe she’s in it in it too n she wants to be but also like , she just wants to be the lead in an all girls folk-rock-synth band so . has never dealt with death in any capacity so she’s a bit like .. how does one compute this

personality & physicality .

she's an aries sun , libra moon which is literally described as ‘ rebellious without a cause ‘ and i’d say that sums her up p well . her passion is intense as heck but short lived , she’s flighty and fidgety .

however, she’s super amiable , will talk with anyone . doesn’t rly shut up tbh . n therefore , makes friends pretty easily n is as much as a survival tool as it is just a positive trait to have .

definitely a go big or go home person . w/ everything includin lov , falls in love 456784 times a day , hozier’s someone new is her anthem . she tends to wring ppl a lil bit dry too fast too soon , comes on too strong , falls too fast n hits the ground equally as hard , then does it all again . a vicious cycle tbh .

plays guitar n writes songs , sings at local open mics . has great stage presence but always gets on stage when she’s had one too many , while leaves her ad-libbing half the songs she’s singing n sometimes crying , n saying fuck u to her old bosses and old flames ( one in the same ? / who knowz ) .

kinda feral sometimes , shld probably brush her hair more often . always wearing last night’s make up , never dresses boring thinks of it as a cardinal sin to dress boring . looks at this lil gallagher stint as an adventure .. miss has a big storm coming

*wipes sweat from my brow like spongebob* why do i feel like i’ve written so much and yet none of it is of substance .. a nightmare , it’s rl and im living it . but ! pls pls pls feel free to slide into my dms or discord and plot , i’m truly up for anything luce’s great in the way that she’s practically a blank canvas for anything so ! i look forward to plotting with y’all <3

#gallagher:intro #womp womp

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lenncnwintxr · 4 years

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*/ HALSTON SAGE , 21 , CISFEMALE, SHE/HER . i just watched dean matthews pull lennon winter into his office. maybe it has something to do with them being a member of phi alpha phi. yeah, i spoke to lenny few times. they’re a junior studying fashion design. apparently they’re from upper east side, new york. maybe that’s why they’re so stubborn and captivating, i don’t know, man. all i know is they’re always listening to she’s thunderstorms by the arctic monkeys.

basics:

name : lennon antoinette winter

nicknames : len, lenny, blondie

age : twenty-one

birthday : 12 february (aquarius)

sexuality : bisexual

born : upper east side, nyc

height : 5′5

favorite color : purple

fluent in: english, french, & italian

hogwarts house : slytherin

major : fashion design

sorority : phi alpha phi

extracurriculars: cheerleading (base), dance team, theater (actor)

notable character references : rebekah mikaelson (tvd) & serena van der woodsen (gg)

family:

mother : diana winter ( née carmichael)

father : liam winter

little sister : abra winter (20)

about:

lennon was born and raised in the upper east side of new york with both her parents and younger sister. her mom being a well known fashion designer and her father being a musician.

thankful that her and her little sister are close in age, they’re best friends. have always been there for each other through everything for their entire lives. even now. lennon can trust her with anything.

they grew up surrounded by music and lavish parties, lennon soon realized how much she loved to sing. her sister and father would play instruments and she’d dance around the living room and sing for them. though she quickly stuck to only singing in the shower once she saw how talented her sister was. sure lennon loved being in the spotlight, but wanted each of them to have their own and shine together.

she was the young girl who would sneak into her mother’s closet when they had a gala or late night function the girl’s weren’t old enough to attend yet. perfecting the art of walking in heels by the age of 5.

she’d sneak into her mom’s workshop and “borrow” designs off her rack for parties, being sure to but the items back before morning.

lennon was always drawn to fashion, wearing it, creating it...you name it. when she was finally able to go to all the events she’d study what everyone was wearing, learning what was popular and using it to start designing her own clothes.

she never thought she was any good, so for a while she stuck to drawing anything she could: fruit, people, nature. anything that didn’t involve clothes, but she always found herself coming back.

in the gossip girl world that was her life, lennon was serena. bubbly, fun, loving to be the center of attention, a party girl. she’d been the other woman a few times, letting herself get close to men quickly without asking questions before it was too late and she ended up hurt. now she sticks to flings, guarding her heart to not show anyone the hopeless romantic underneath.

her last real boyfriend hurt her the worst, hence being the last, but he’s the guy that made her see just how amazing she was at designing clothes. she had some major trust issues now, but still found a way to thank him for letting her realize her potential.

they’d volunteer as a family, give to every charity they could. her parents knew how important it would be to selecting collages for her and her sister and that plus all of lennon’s extra curriculars and grades, it helped her get accepted here.

she quickly found herself blending in with the alpha phi sorority. once she was accepted in as a member she didn’t realize how much the extra sisterhood would provide a comfort to her.

after she graduates her mother wants lennon to sign on and be apart of her business, but even though she’s always loved her mom’s clothes she doesn’t see their visions missing well together. she doesn’t know how to tell her, but she’d rather start something fresh on her own.

facts:

if there’s a party you’ll be sure to find her there, especially with a drink in hand

while in high school she found out her father used to be a bit of a hippie when he was growing up and that soon led her to find his weed stash, which she would occasionally steal from. he liked to smoke with his buddies when they played poker or golf, sometimes even waiting to smoke in the house when everyone was asleep.

she only fully trusts one person in her life: her sister

she’s her sister’s opposite. being very outgoing and down to try anything once, the could charm her way in and out of anything she wanted

she loves both her parents though it’s pretty clear to her that her father prefers abra, since she was the one with the musically talented genes.

she’s always felt this bit of responsibility to make her mother proud and constantly feels that pressure.

where she goes, trouble tends to follow.

she’s a big dog lover.

feels that shopping sprees, vacations, or macaroons can solve any problem.

has a small tattoo of a bow on her left hand, middle finger.

connections?:

the last boyfriend : open. he was her number one support system, made her realize how amazing she was at fashion design. if it wasn’t for him she’d probably still be sketching trees. he broke her trust and they ended up breaking up, she hasn’t been in a real relationship since.

best friends : open/f/nb. open/m/nb. besides her sister these two people are always there for her when she needs them.

fwb/hookups/flings : franco. open. open. being a girl who isn’t one for relationships anymore, it leaves the girl with a lot of free time. she get’s bored easily so there’s more than one but it’s always fun and carefree, just like her.

revenge hookup : open. started as a fling to get back at one of her friends/exes, etc. and now the two just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

childhood friend : raina. their mother’s quickly became friends, always visiting lennon’s mother’s store to get the best designer clothes they could. which led to the two girls talking while their moms did, getting close and spending time together at events.

protective friendship : open. the person who always comes to her rescue, won’t let anyone mess with her or talk bad about her in their presence. often is seen throwing lennon over his shoulder and carrying her out of parties before she does something dumb.

bad influence : zo. the two always have a good time out together, fueling each other’s bad decisions, daring one another to do something crazier

cuddle buddy : open. a sort of confidant relationship that usually revolves around them spilling their guts or talking shit, cuddling with no cares in the world. possible that the cuddling could lead to something more romantic.

sexual tension : open. the two can’t seem to stay away from each other and though nothing sexual has happened yet...they’re never far from crossing over that line.

skinny love : open.

unspoken crush : open. lennon would never let herself get into another serious relationship but this person makes her doubt all her willpower.

party friend : open. the person who wouldn’t been seen far away from lennon at a party. both having drinks in their hands and having a good time on whatever dance floor they could find.

partner in crime : alana. family friends that blossomed into being the first person lennon ever got high with back in hs. they were talking one night after getting high and both found themselves curious about being with another girl.

occasional drug buddy : open. when lennon gets high, she likes to do it around someone else, this person allows her to feel comfortable and have a good time. often seen calling her to smoke as well.

supplier : open. in college lennon doesn’t have easy access to her dad’s stash anymore, this person supplies her with whatever when she needs it.

frenemy : noelle. sure the two of them are friends, but more often the two can be seen butting heads, thinking the other is out to get them and embarrass them in front of everyone. they take turns fighting for dominance but still manage to label the other as ‘friend’.

rival : open.

enemies : open.

friends turned enemies : open.

(idk i just started listing things lol. but i’m down for anything and everything.)

#neu.intro #bio #i'm a big ass mess but here we go

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anipwrites · 6 years

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hey can i tell u abt what i Love about Disillusioned so far? *the entire character of Williams* the lil bitch is a manipulative little shit and i love him

Yes, yes, yes!! Will is a manipulative little shit! I love to hate him, y’know? He’s one of my shittiest characters and I love him for that, let me go find a nice good segment of Will Being A Little Shit for you hang on.

Okay this segment is from the very end of Chapter Five, and its like the first time Will becomes majorly important to the plot. I will say, though, Will is the main antagonist for a reason.

Location: Somewhere between Kihiro City and Duskton, California, United States

Time: Monday, September 30, 3:58 PM

William Amadeus Sanders kicked at a rock, watching it almost hit a stray cat near a trashcan. The stone clanged against the can’s metal hull, and the cat scrambled into an alleyway.

He’d rather be on the bus. Unfortunately, some of the football jocks hadn’t taken too kindly to a rumor spreading around the school saying that he’d called the whole team idiots. Granted, the rumor was true, he really had called them all idiots, but did he really deserve to get beat up for it? He was just saying what everyone else was thinking! And they made him miss the bus–now he had to walk home, all the way near Duskton. Good forty-five minutes from the school by car; it was taking forever to walk there. His backpack was all too heavy on his shoulders, and he was nowhere near home all because of a couple of dumb jocks.

His day already wasn’t going well. He’d made a B on his science test, even though all the girls in his class made A’s. He was smarter than that, smarter than them! They were all vapid, constantly drinking their dumb pumpkin spice lattes and talking about what celebrity’s ass was the best or whatever it was girls talked about. Only Alana was different, different enough to be worth talking to. And even she was ignoring him, preferring to hang out with her new friends, or her old friends or anyone but him! They used to be friends, but what was her deal?! She was going to turn out like all the other idiots if she kept at this.

‘Stupid bullies! Stupid school! Why won’t they wisen up, or at least leave me alone!’ Will thought to himself. He was at the bottom of the social hierarchy his school had somehow set up under their teachers’ noses. Even Alana and all of her 'friends’ were a few levels higher than he was! Whenever Brett and the preps or the jocks or anyone got bored, they’d search him out. It was like they had some sort of vendetta against logic and people with high IQ’s. And it’s not like anyone cared to stop them. Teachers would look over and look away, students would gossip and spread air-headed rumors about him and each other. His parents probably thought they had sent him to the best school in the area, but instead he was forced to enter the gates of hell for seven hours a day–if hell was filled with the wicked and the fools.

Will was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice his path until his foot connected with something. The sound of a book cover scraping on the sidewalk jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked down and scoffed, looking at the black leather-bound book and the black pencil near it. This town was full of idiots–now they were throwing away books, perfectly good books. He almost reached for it, but stopped himself.

It was what, sixth grade? He’d seen some anime–Death Note, maybe–about a boy who picked up random black notebooks from the ground and ended up driving himself insane and starting a crime spree that eventually lead to his own death. Some small part of his mind decided to bring this up–how did he know it wouldn’t happen to him? Light was at the top of his classes when it happened, had the highest IQ in the school…

'Don’t be an idiot,’ he thought after a moment’s contemplation. The kids at school were beginning to really get to him. 'That was a fictional TV show! Of course it won’t happen in real life!’ Now determined to prove himself wrong, he reached down and picked up the items.

Almost immediately, he let out a scream. The instant he touched it, the surface seemed to burn through his veins but send a streak of cold down his spine at the same time, pain spreading from his fingertips to his toes. Darkness washed over his vision for a moment–what was going on?! In his panic, he dropped the book… and the pain immediately stopped. He blinked dots from his eyes and looked at the book again.

Had he imagined it? Maybe he was getting tired from all this walking–this was way too far for anyone of his caliber to ever be expected to walk, and he still had a long way to go. Books don’t cause people pain. He’d prove it! He grabbed at the book again, and no pain at all happened. He’d imagined it all along. He snatched up the accompanying pencil–who didn’t need a free pencil–and stood back onto his feet.

Will kept walking, flipping through the book. Turns out, it wasn’t even a notebook Just a sketchbook. It’s pages were crisp, clear, uninterrupted, and just the thickness Alana always liked in her own sketchbooks. It was clearly meant for drawing, not writing–and it was completely empty? Maybe someone dropped it on accident? Too bad for them. Finders keepers; the losers should have kept track of their shit better.

For a brief moment, he considered giving the gift to Alana. It might get her to acknowledge him for more than ten seconds again–maybe she’d date him. But… no. She was getting too air-headed, like the others. Soon she wouldn’t be any fun to be around anyways. Plus… something told him he’d be able to do something grand with this book. Draw something that would woo Alana back to him instead, get her to see things his way, like she used to. Maybe even draw something that would impress the popular kids enough to let him up a few levels, so he could really change how things worked around there. Maybe something better than that…

What he didn’t know was how special–and how wicked–that sketchbook truly was.

And in this moment, Will’s shittiness went up x100.

#anipwrites art #anipwritesart #anipwrites disillusions

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acohleric · 6 years

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TRUE DETECTIVE SEASON ONE AESTHETICS, episode one. repost, don’t reblog. bold whatever applies. tag whoever you want and feel free to add to the categories.

tagged by : tagging : @pekkt @the-alana-bloom @lorncmalvo @pulledfirst @blowupp @shegunfire @kinemasent

THE LONG BRIGHT DARK . you’re the only one who is there to hear the crickets at night. the crunch of freshly cut crops under large boots. a silhouette moving through the dark. the crops are on fire in the distance. double exposure. the sound of a camera zooming in. blurry footage. the face of the unknown. heavy lidded eyes. receding hairlines. time that has long since passed. distant chatter outside of the room. remembering first impressions. the gentle coaxing of an unseen person. knowing that despite their blank smiles, they don’t give a shit. ulterior motives. flowers on the dashboard. detrimental gossip. stumbling through wet grass. setting yourself up for fear an self loathing. the regretful knock on a door. silent car rides. pale shirts and dark ties. stepping under caution tape. the silent reproach of a crime scene. a body perched against a tree. red hair against pale skin. dried dirt. something you have never seen before, and hopefully never will again. antlers where they don’t belong. tall grass. the smell of latex gloves as you pull them over your hands, they are always too tight. living somewhere for years but never truly settling in. a stack of true crime novels. a mattress on the floor. the onterage of officers surrounding a crime scene. sketches in a book. the dead woman, she prays. something dark looming overhead. jumping to conclusions. knowing you’re right but lack the facts to back it up. hearing children on the other side of the door. anniversaries of dead children. there’s something not right about the man standing at my door. they are silenced by the look on your face. “ man, you can barely stand up “. dinner with the family. spaghetti sauce in a can. his wife’s long careless brown hair. the little girls are staring. unrequitted philosophies. a fresh billboard on the highway, who killed me ?? office chatter, they don’t care to lower their voices when they talk shit about you. drinking a bottle of cough syrup, at least you’re not a drunk. a girl stumbles out of a parked semi-truck. 90′s curls. she’s a prostiute so nobody cares if she’s gone missing. too close for comfort. the soft yellow of morning. seeing him asleep on the couch, instead of in your bed. rushed hellos. memories of a town. knowing when to shut the fuck up. a little girl waves to you on the side of the street. sweet southern poverty. they’re not here to discuss racial disparities. a children’s drawing tucked away in a police file. lone star and cigarettes. there’s something about her that makes you want to tell her everything, or maybe it’s the drugs. the sting of a slap. meeting unauthorized authority. the church runs everything around here. refusing to shake hands. big men in suits. steepled fingers. playgrounds unfit for children. something lurks in the shed out back.

#i have to split it up bc one episode has a thousand aesthetics istg #ill make all the episodes eventually

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connormurphyobsessed · 7 years

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I wouldn’t be sure of that (Connor Murphy x reader smut!)

Hiii! I am back and with some good old smut! Thank you again for the response on my first post, it means so much to me!!! Also I got some amazing requests that I will start working on! Keep sending them in! Also there are some random parts about horses and cults, so just be warned hahaha.

Requested: nope Words: 2,642 Warnings: smut!!! And some swearing. Also I forgot to write in protection :P, but if you don’t have protection no horizontal hula!

Sixth period was the definition of boring. The AP US History class was so dull that you had turned to contemplating how many horses it would take to make a horse cult. What was a horse cult? You had no idea, but you were dedicated to finding out during the hell which was called AP History. The only thing you had to look forward to was ‘Spa Day’, or ‘Spa Afternoon,’ with your friends. The monthly tradition was created after your friend Zoe had an unfortunate accident plucking her eyebrows. Let’s just say nobody looks good without eyebrows. After that fateful day you, Zoe, and newfound friend Alana vowed that each month you would all spend time “treating yourselves.” This wonderful tradition switched between the three girl’s houses, and no matter where you were you always managed to laugh the night away, create weird face masks, and leave embarrassing texts to people you were too scared to talk to. This current month signaled that the sleepover would occur at the Murphy’s house, and although her parents were nice it meant running the risk of bumping into Connor. You didn’t have preconceived notions that other people had regarding Connor, but that was just problem. He fascinated you beyond anyone or anything, even more than horse cults. The lanky boy that kept his door closed at all times made you want to be brave, or at least brave enough to talk to him more in depth than you usually had.

You had known Zoe for around a year after changing high schools, and you had become instant friends. Alana had started helping you with your Spanish homework and soon enough all three of you would spend your lunches together filling out quizzes in teen magazines, and confiding in each other. Throughout your year long friendship, you had surprisingly spoken to Connor many times. When the school hallways became too overwhelming you would often wander into the school’s library and sit next to Connor. At first, he was hesitant to talk to you, fearing you were just another mean girl at school, but after some time it seemed as if he actually liked your presence, and that talking to you wasn’t that bad. This small friendship created between the two of you always seemed to sway on the line of flirtation, but no matter how many times you hinted to him that you liked him it always went right over his head. To say that it was frustrating would be the understatement of the year, and you couldn’t just bring it up with Zoe. Sure she was probably your best friend, but why bring anything up if all Connor saw you as was some friend.

“Connor’s going to have to drive us back home today,” Zoe said as you all stood by Alana’s locker while she put away a book. “Wait, why?” you asked while fidgeting with the strap on your backpack. “My mom’s with my aunt today so Connor drove me to school. Don’t worry though he promised me not to be 100% embarrassing,” she answered while reapplying her lip gloss. The three of you started walking towards the front doors of the school which seemed absurdly large. “It doesn’t matter how we get there, besides I bet he wouldn’t mind if we started talking in the car, right Zoe?” piped in Alana. “If that’s what you’re worried about y/n,” Zoe spoke as she slung her arm around you, “it won’t stop us from gossiping. Connor’s used to tuning me out so you can still spill all your secrets.” Alana and Zoe laughed, while your nervous laughter blended in. Together you walked to the school parking lot and looked for the familiar silver minivan that you were used to Zoe’s mom driving. Instead of Zoe’s mom you were used to, you saw Connor leaning against the minivan the family lovingly called “The Beast.” The three of you giggled at the unusual sight, but while Alana and Zoe might have been giggling about how funny it was, you were because of how good Connor looked. He wore his usual black shirt and jeans, but you could see bright yellow socks peeking out from under his jeans. “Uhmm y/n?” Zoe asked laughing. “Oh! Sorry I just kind of zoned for a minute,” Zoe looked at you with a slight smirk but didn’t say anything else as you all got in the car. You sat in the front seat, but only because you got motion sick and nobody wanted you to puke all over the car…again. As soon as Connor started the car Alana started talking a million miles a minute about somebody in here math class who she seemingly liked. You chimed in a few times, but mostly listened and tried to look at Connor without seeming like a stalker. The conversation then shifted to you, forcing you to be pulled back to reality. “What about Shawn? He’s cute, and totally into you!” Alana said shaking her head. “Shawn? I guess he’s cute, but I don’t like him like that at all,” you replied glancing over at Connor who was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had turned white, or at least whiter. His eyes were intense and he was staring at the road as if he had a personal vendetta against it. “Will you all just shut the fuck up?!” Connor yelled. The car went silent as Alana and Zoe looked at each other in surprise. You on the other hand just stared at Connor. “Are you okay?” you asked quietly. He didn’t respond and instead turned the music in the car up. You quickly glanced in the back seat where Zoe shrugged at you, while Alana tried not to laugh. “Sorry,” she said between giggles, “I laugh in stressful situations.” And with that, the rest of the car ride was filled with Alana laughing on and off and some Bruce Springsteen.

After what felt like hours you arrived at the Murphy house. Zoe, Alana, and you all jumped out of the car and ran upstairs to Zoe’s room where you immediately started painting each other’s nails and failed at Pinterest hacks. Eventually, the sun went down and you all changed into pajamas. By 10’oclock Alana had crashed in her sleeping bag and was snoring what would be an obnoxious amount if you didn’t love her so much. Zoe on the other hand had a habit of saying she wouldn’t fall asleep early, but once again by 10:30 pm she was sound asleep on her bed. Although this might be annoying to others you didn’t really mind since they seemed like they needed sleep, and you never really fell asleep until much later in the night. Tonight seemed like one of those nights where falling asleep seemed impossible, so you decided to wash your face again, hoping that maybe the hot water on your face would make you sleepy. On the way to the bathroom, in what was a very dark hall, you started thinking about horse cults again , and if that could actually be a thing. Not even realizing where you were walking you opened the door at the end of the hallway, but the bathroom wasn’t there. Instead, you open the door to find a dimly lit room with Connor sitting at the end of his bed reading. “What are you doing y/n?” Connor asked looking up at you with confusion written all over his face. “This isn’t the bathroom,” you said trying to laugh it off, “I’m sorry about that. I guess the dark really turned me around.” You smiled at Connor before realizing you were awkwardly standing in his doorway in very short pajama shorts and a tank top with no bra on. “I guess I’ll be leaving now. I don’t want to bother you or anyth-,” “You can stay if you want, but I’m guessing that would annoy Zoe so…” “She’s asleep,” you said quickly, “I mean her and Alana already fell asleep and I have trouble sleeping, so thanks.” You silently cursed at yourself for seeming so desperate, but Connor didn’t seem to mind so you made your way into his room. Connor scooted over on his bed to make space for you. As you sat down you took in what was happening. You were in Connor’s room. Connor. The boy who you’ve silently liked for months, and now you were sitting on his bed. “So,” Connor said as he pulled his hair up into a bun, “you don’t like that Shawn guy?” “What? My gosh no. Why?” you asked aloud. “I guess I was just wondering since he likes you apparently and Alana seems to think you two would be good together or some shit like that.” Now it was Connor’s turn to silently curse at himself. “Well he’s okay, but I’m kind of into someone else, but that’s a little hopeless,” you answered trying not to look Connor in the eyes. “Hopeless?” Connor said as he slowly scooted closer to you. “He doesn’t like me like that,” you answered, actually looking at Connor this time. Your eyes flickered from his lips back to his eyes, and you were quickly aware that you were so close you could kiss him. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Connor answered. In a single swoop he moved his mouth to yours and the heat that radiated off of him connected you together. With your lips connected you felt as if the two of you turned into one. All the anxiety of not knowing if you felt the same way slipped away as the rush of your soft lips against his own hit him. The intensity of kissing each other was more than both of you had thought possible, and the way you felt against him was something so incredible that Connor thought no words in the English language could explain it. Maybe it was the passion of the kiss, or maybe it was how intoxicating Connor was, but you wanted more. No, you needed more. With the thrill of Connor’s lips on your own you started to slowly, almost painfully drag Connor’s shirt off. Connor wasn’t as patient as you were and quickly pulled his shirt off lacking any form of grace. You lightly laughed in response but were quickly brought back by the sight of Connor in front of you. He was all you had ever wanted and there he was, with lanky arms, milky white skin, small tufts of chest hair, and he was absolutely stunning. “Can I take your shirt off?” Connor asked with a slight quiver in his voice. You nodded in response as his cold fingers brushed against your sides as he pulled your shirt over your head. Connor took a moment to admire you and every line on your body. You wrapped your arms back around Connor’s neck as he wrapped his around your waist, bringing his hands up to your breasts. His hands were cold, but soft and gentle. You pushed your body against his this time, wanted to be closer to him. A low groan tumbled out of his mouth as you moved to straddle him. Your hands tugged at the hair in his bun, and he bucked forward bringing moans from both of your mouths this time. You quickly pulled away and gently tugged at his pajama pants. In a fluid motion, he flipped you so you were on your back and his arms on either side of you, seemingly protecting you from the outside world. “Are you sure you want to?” Connor asked before going back to your lips. “100% sure,” you replied smiling up at him. “I’ve never really you know…uhmm…I don’t have experience,” he said trying to look you in the eyes. “I don’t care, and we don’t have to do anything,” you said as you pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ears. “I fucking want to, I just wanted you to know,” and with that he brought his lips back to yours. It felt as if all the oxygen was brought back to your body. Suddenly it felt as if there were too many clothes on. You started pulling down his pajama pants and Connor helped as swiftly pull them off and kick them to the floor. With his length free he tugged on your pants. You desperately kicked them off and Connor laughed. Expecting Connor to bring his lips back to yours you closed your eyes. Instead, you felt him slowly kiss down your stomach. Your breath hitched as he got closer and closer to where you felt your heat radiating. With his eyes looking at you he made his way to your core. You gasped and felt yourself grab at the sheets. “I t-t-thought you said you had n-no experience,” you breathed out. “There’s a thing called the internet.” “Thank you internet,” you laughed, “as much fun as this is, I want you…now.” With that permission he brought himself back to you, hovering as you stroked his shaft. “I’d stop that now if I were you, if you ‘want me’,” he said with a shaky voice. You slightly laughed and brought your lips to his once more. The feeling of him on top of you made you feel safe and at home, nothing nerve racking about it, instead it felt right. Connor positioned himself and slowly entered you. Moans slipped from your mouth and you could feel Connor shudder. Even in the moment of so much intimacy you couldn’t help but look at Connor. His eyes squeezed shut, hair tumbling out of the bun, the bucking of his hips that made you believe that there is heaven on earth. With each movement of Connor’s hips against you more and more pleasure surrounded you, and the noises coming from Connor’s mouth were enough to bring you to the edge. With the final thrusts Connor gave, you felt as if your body were on a high, and you knew Connor’s was too with his climax. “My gosh,” he panted, “I think now would be an okay time to say that I like you a lot, shit maybe even love you.” You laughed at Connor’s words, while he dramatically flopped down on the bed next to you. “I like you a lot too. Hell I know I love you,” you spoke as you moved your head onto Connor’s chest. “Good because I was trying to seem cool. I know I love you too.” And with that Connor put his arms around your bare body. “I’m happy we’re on the same page.” You sat up and Connor tried to grab you in his arms. “I’m only putting my pajamas back on so we don’t scar Zoe,” you said trying to find your clothes in the dim light. “Well, I found my shorts.” “Just take my shirt and throw me my pants.” You made your way back to Connor’s bed, half dressed. You got back in his bed and he enveloped you in his arms. “So I guess we’ll have to tell Zoe,” you said with a nervous tinge in your voice. “I don’t think she’ll mind, she’ll just be happy to see you more.” With that you nuzzled your head on his bare chest. “Can I ask you something Connor?” “Anything, I mean you’ve seen me naked, so anything.” “If horses had cults what do you think they would do?” “What the fuck?”

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pt-sink-foetus · 3 years

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It’s the racial stereotyping of Nelly Yuki being the ‘smart Asian’, for me 🥴

It’s the fact that Blair, a white woman, sabotages Nelly so she can do better than her in the SATs, for me 🥴

It’s the fact that Blair’s group of ‘minions’ has token POC, for me 🥴

And it’s the fact that apparently, Nelly becomes one of her ‘minions’ later and is treated worse than them in the series, for me 🥴

#Alana shits on Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl #S1E15 #Nelly Yuki #shows #ik ik ppl are gonna say the show is old but that doesn't mean you can't criticise it #tw racism #cw racism #racism

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nofeelingsandallthefeelings · 4 years

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actual reflection lmao

nov 6.2019.$$ coming i can feel it

-Mind & Mentality -thoughts, feelings, triggers, patterns

oh the everlasting up and downs, i cant decide or know what is actually going on in this brain of mine. how frustrating. In the past few months i havent been to conscious of my thoughts or feelings if im being honest. which is something im currently working on.

on mentality, i realized i complain and talk shit alot and that im a perfectionist. we’re not judging here but we are changing.

-Health/substance use/drink

eh i love pills, but i also love being sober. i went ham on xans in the past few times, probs why i dont remember anything that happened the first half of the semester. anyways, ive had the debate in my head about the mental dependancy so yeah.

-Self Esteem

yeah, emotionally being mature is hard. looking at social media was not a good move for me, i questioned my beauty so many times after looking at that post. i have also in the past few months have had image issues, im still trying to figure out where these came from, i think mostly bc most if not all of my friends are skinny.

-Finances/Wealth $$

ugh. i spent way too much on dumb ass shit, i learned i need to manage my money better and change my perspective/relationship on money. i am abundant and have always been taken care of in the past months.

-Hobbies

-Emotions - anger, frustration, happy, sad, joyous, react vs. respond

-Work -

-Romance -

shawn and i relationship was extremely complex and messed up in so many ways, i met him at the wrong time and i feel strongly in my heart we were supposed to meet in this life. for now, we dont speak. I was mean to him and he would diminish me. Taking me back 3 times showed a lack of respect for himself and his self worth, and it showed how cruel i could be. its indescribable and im not sure what to call it. i loved and still love him and hate him equally. but i made the right choice by sending him the letter to let me be and grow. That was the best decision. i let you go with love. i had so much resentment and bitterness towards him that was not healthy for me, like holy shit. not okay. but i forgive myself and let go with love

dog boy, oh what an obsession. it was lust, lust, lust. I have to be very careful. I went 100000 full throttle on this in my mind. we had almost nothing in common, he was pretty boring, yet i continued to lead him on for ego’s sake, it was my choice to let him go out of the circle to focus on myself and it was also another great decision i made!! In retrospect, i should have spoken up for what I wanted because I had every right to, i went to ny to see him god damn it. but also in retrospect there is no way any romantic relationship wouldve been picked up as i am living my life. i keep the door slightly open with this one, tiniest crack. the obsession was a mess, it was messing with me every single day, that is ridiculous. the things i did and said to try to make this work was silly. i forgive myself and let this go with love.

watch my lust, 9/10 its lust

-Spirituality- affirmations, prayers, meditations

i have been out of touch with my spirituality and i feel like thats something that does keep me grounded ina weird sense.

-Family-mom/sister nan and tio

being around tio meme and nancy, makes me so comfortable and makes me feel at home. In the past 3 months i feel like i have bonded with them significantly and with emily too. they are my rock. as far as my immediate family, i love them but i cannot be around them. the semi fight on my bday was so much, i think we all just misunderstand each other and after years of chaos, we dont know how to communicate with one another. I also realized in the past few months, i do in fact want a family of my own, we can leave this vague bc its just an idea.

-Career

is my passion. end of story. we in that hoe baby

-Social Life/friendships

july, jac gossiping on me. to be honest, i should have seen this coming, but i didnt pay attention, she was pretty manipulative with other people and good at it, kudos. very artistic and creative. I still cant tell if our friendship was real or out of convenience and even worse, im hurt she moved on w that girl as friends so fast!!! Lesson: don’t trust your friends with secrets and smell out the snake in them, it shows

in the past few months, i havent been keen on going out in large crowds, I am not sure why, its too many people?

my new friends are great, i am happy i made the steps and efforts to develop friendships with arabella and alana. they are great inspirations and supports into becoming the woman i want to be and will be. we’re alll very different and similar and i like that, i like that they challenge me to think outside of my box. i have enjoyed and immersed myself in feminine energy.

i love alex. we went through so much in the end of LA, i learned alot about myself as a friend and continue to do so

briney i love briney, she keeps me afloat and hopefully i do the same. our relationship in the past months has strengthened.

and lastly i realized i care too much about what people think which is so dumb but we’re working on it. no judging

lesson: Be grateful and prioritize quality time with those i love and cherish

-Lifestyle

idk if this goes under this category, but i realllly realllyyyyyy played myself this last semester with my priorities, i cant even recall what i did the first half of my semester. I learned it causes me stress and we take preventative steps here at shuco inc.

THERES SO MUCH MORE BUT I WILL CONTINUE LATER

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fridaydoesmedia · 6 years

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in media res [january 2018]

well! things went off the rail for a bit now. but i’m back! and all media’d up.

things i read

i went slightly overboard and read ten books in the first ten days on 2018, so we’re just going to touch on some of them briefly:

you know me well by nina lacour and david levithan, which was refreshingly adorable.

agorafabulous by sara benincasa, which was interesting.

among the living by jordan castillo price, which was dorky gay fun.

all the lives i want by alana massey, which was like a donna tart book produced offspring with a trashy celebrity gossip magazine.

the last dragonslayer by jasper fforde.

the anti-cool girl by rosie waterland, which i had been reading for literally years.

the alpha’s home by dessa lux, more dorky gay fun.

the princess diarist by carrie fisher, which was surprisingly hard to read! (emotionally.)

because you’ll never meet me by leah thomas, which honestly went in a direction i was not expecting.

in more detail!

the spiritwalker trilogy by kate elliott, which was an exciting fantasy romp through a very developed steampunk-y magic-y world where almost everyone is a person of colour because of historical shenanigans (not the colonial kind).

the argonauts by maggie nelson which was delightfully surreal and poetic and all-encompassing.

an unkindness of ghosts by rivers solomon which was utterly devastating and definitely the most beautiful and affecting thing i have read this year.

all the birds in the sky by charlie jane anders which was utterly delightful and a sneaky fave and i want everyone to go read it at once.

blood, marriage, wine and glitter which i have also been reading for years but out of a desire not to have it end ever.

also a bunch of comics! i am up to date on giant days, moonstruck (adorbs), hawkeye (a delight), iceman (moar gay chicanery), critical role, saga (ugh), rivers of london and all-new wolverine.

i finished hexed: the thief and the harlot and it is exactly the right kind of trash to make me love it and godshaper which i really loved a lot.

i’ve also read the first volume of irredeemable (again), faith (delightful) and one of the many recent batgirl restarts (the one where she goes traveling).

the first issue of translucid (fucking weird) and adventure time (cute).

things i watched

the good place! you guys, the good place is so freaking good. i just. it’s so good.

the second season of one day at a time, which was EVEN BETTER than the previous season.

the shape of water, which was problematic in many ways but also breathtakingly beautiful both in design and in it’s dreamy, grimm’s fairytale narrative.

i am like twelve minutes away from finishing the new season of grace and frankie and it’s. there’s some weird shit going on. but overall it is delightful.

what else.

hmmm.

i’ve started the new season of dirk gently and it is just. so fucking bleak. and confusing. i can’t believe i binge watched the first season of this show.

things i listened to

i am OBSESSED with dessa’s new album chime even though i haven’t heard all of it yet. fire drills and 5 out of 6 and good grief are all soul-wrenching and i love them.

allie x’s collxtion iii is amazing, i’m especially obsessed with casanova and paper love.

troye sivan’s new single my! my! my! is out and it’s v cute.

the new adventure zone arc is delightful and i know it’s finished now but i haven’t finished it because i’m slack.

i’ve been listening to atlanta monster and i binged limetown and radiolab’s more perfect.

keep it! from crooked media with ira madison iii is a weekly delight and last week i saw someone on the tram was listening to it as i was and it made me happy.

aaaaannd that’s it for now! more coming soon, hopefully i will be better this year but we’ll see!

0 notes

crispyimagines17 · 5 years

Photo

“GOSSIP GIRL: Summertime Madness“ (Chapter 2).

Originally based on: R’s & CrispyImagines writers’ idea.

Written by: @crispyimagines17

CAST:

Tom Holland

Timothée Chalamet

Noah Centineo as Noah Humphrey

Kiernan Shipka as Kiernan Archibald

Author’s Note: Just enjoy it while it lasts, guys. Thank you to all those supportive souls who sent their good vibes via ask or DM <3 especially to Napofthesoul, your words really meant a lot, sweetie.

Previous Chapters: 1: “New York, New York”

Masterpost

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Morning, Upper East Siders. Time to wake up from bad dreams and face a new day. Though, if you’re a queen just arriving at your realm after time abroad and with two royals fighting for you, looks like things could get uglier in the morning.

Her eyelids hesitated to open at the touch of sunrays coming from a window. Her body was paying off yesterday’s red wine glasses. But she didn’t regret it after thinking about the dramatic performance at the terrace. If anything could’ve calmed her late nerves to see the two men in the same city, and much worse in the same place, that was wine.

“Oh shit”

Alana exhaled loudly as she sat up on the bed at a slow pace for not worsen her nausea. Her hand stretched out to reach her phone. The clock read 10 a.m. It was a miracle her mother hadn’t sent Mishka, her maid and Dorota’s nephew, to her bedroom yet.

But as if thinking of her called her up, Mrs. Howarth and Mishka opened the door seconds later.

“Oh Alana, I almost forgot you were here.”

“Thank you for that, mother.” She rolled her eyes.

Margot eyed from head to toe at her messy daughter for a second before taking her attention back to her smartphone.

“Dress up. We’re running late for the Holland’s annual golf match”

“Mother. I am not going.”

In a single move, Alana stood up from bed to face her mother with a frown. But the cold woman cut her off.

“You are. End of discussion.”

“I agreed to attend your last night’s party. But this is much more”

Her vibrant blue eyes stared straight into her daughter’s as she kept her phone inside her purse.

“You wanted to be back, don’t you? And your grandma’s Charity Foundation would not rise again if you refuse to attend events and show your deep interest on getting more investors.” Margot made a brief pause, but nothing came out of Alana’s mouth. She smirked at her silence. “I’ll be on the limo. Hurry up”

The Howarth girl did as told unwillingly, not before unlocking her phonescreen; one lost call and 4 messages from Timothée. Nothing from Tom. Alana pursed her lips. Maybe her long-time friend understood the message and made peace.

Or at least that’s what she hoped.

* * * * * *

The sun shined bright and clear. A perfect Saturday morning for those lucky souls with no strings and ready to live. Veuve Clicquot Garden looked just as she remembered. It felt so Upper East Side. It smelt like money.

As soon as a waiter approached her, she asked him for a glass of wine. It might be 11:00 a.m., but Breakfast at Tiffany’s with orange juice wasn’t a possibility.

“Oh Alana, my dear.”

“Mrs. O’Brien!”

An elegant grandmother with certainly more class than the British Queen herself stared at her and pulled her into an embrace. The woman who, as her godmother Blair Waldorf, had thought her everything she needed to know about life and this sick elite society.

“My darling, you look wonderful!”

“And you look younger, if I may say so.” Alana exclaimed with a joyful smile over her face.

“Oh, enough” She giggled. “So, what have you been up to, Lana?”

“Europe, recently. But I’m back now. What about you?”

“South Sudan. There’s a terrible situation happening for children there.” The old woman briefly fixed her eyes in the ground with a sad expression. “But of course, the Holland’s believe things can get managed with Golf Match so, shall we?”

Both approached the lunch table to pick some fruit and Alana stayed in silence for a couple seconds until Lilian O’Brien spoke again.

“Christ, I used to enjoy these events very much.”

“Now you don’t?”, Alana frowned as she followed her inside the white tent.

“I still do, dear. What changed was that I don’t only care for my social status anymore, I care about others too.”

Alana seemed to be deeply digesting her words as she nodded. But her analysis was interrupted by a curly mass of hair stepping into the garden followed by the Bass family; Chuck and Blair.

“May you excuse me?”

“Go, Lana. Go”, the old woman nodded gently in a soft attempt to encourage the young girl.

“Was truly a pleasure, Mrs. O’Brien”

Until that very instance, Alana hadn’t paid attention to the music playing in the background because her ears were used to Frank Sinatra’s voice. But when Timothée’s eyes met hers, Etta James’ voice invaded her and suddenly, the scene looked taken from a romantic comedy film.

‘This gotta be a fucking joke’, Alana whispered to herself.

Meanwhile, the European man wearing the latest Berluti’s white design walked towards her. Perhaps aware of the song’s effect, because his steps seemed to be perfectly synchronized with the tune.

“Morning, sunshine.” Timothée said with the same charming smile that made her knees weak.

As soon as he stood before her, Alana thought they’d be dancing or passionately kissing as in an Audrey Hepburn’s films. But they didn’t. A helicopter landing sound interrupted the magic moment, bringing both souls back to reality. Etta James’ voice had faded giving way to Nina Simone’s strong classy style.

‘Am I in Broadway?’

The It-girl frowned sarcastically at the coincidence. The helicopter’s door opened, and Dominic Holland greeted with one hand before helping his wife to step on ground.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Hollands.”

Claps showered the iconic family. Tom was the last to step down. And for Alana’s surprise, his eyes fixed on hers for a millisecond until he turned his head at the crowd welcoming him. Although she tried not to, a part inside her kind of broke when he looked away this time.

But Timothée noticed it; she had blinked twice and finished the glass of wine in one gulp right after Tom joined his family for the magazine picture.

And Chalamet only scowled at his adversary with pursed lips as he posed for the cameras.

* * * * *

The golf match had begun with the Holland boys playing the first holes. Tom won every single one of them. He was good at this; polo and golf were his favorite sports.

Alana and Timothée were sitting along the Bass. At first, they sat there because of Blair, but then she learned that Timothée had followed her because of Chuck. Although Chuck Bass wasn’t anything else than just her godmother’s husband, it shocked her the fact that Timothée had never told her he was related to him.

And she wondered why he’d hide it.

“Well, it’s Chuck’s turn to smack golf’s yard”

Blair Waldorf said with that elegant smile of hers as Bass moved the chair to let his wife stood up. She picked her purse and looked at her goddaughter.

“Your godfather Nate is coming, dear. Tell him to wait for us.”

“Sure, Aunt Blair.” Alana nodded forcing a smile.

Alone in the table, the two millionaire youngsters shared a brief moment of awkward silence filled only by the crowd sound and murmurs of polite laughs in near tables.

Timothée doubted on say something but his heart couldn’t bear her strange behavior, making him sip his drink and swallow hard.

“Are you okay, Alana?”, he inquired in a more worried tone than he’d liked.

The Howarth girl frowned nonchalantly as she brought a vegetarian pressed Italian little sandwich into her mouth and chewed on it carefree before answering.

“I am. Perfectly. Just wondering when were you going to tell me you’re a Chalamet-Bass?” She asked still in a nonchalant mode as if talking about the weather, without facing him. “He’s the real reason you’re here, isn’t it?”

He turned his torso and laid his arm over his chair’s back to completely look at her.

“He’s not, they invited me. And I knew you’d be here.”

His voice was softer this time. Alana kept sitting straight as she glanced the garden, whatever but his eyes.

“When you messaged me last night asking to see me and talk, I never expected you’d go for my godmother’s help.”

“Even she can tell why I am in New York.”

“Bass Industries is a good reason.”

Timothée leaned just a few inches closer to her.

“I didn’t mention him because we said ‘the past is in the past’”

Alana shut her eyes in contained frustration for a second before turning her head to meet his eyes.

“But he’s not past. He’s present!”

“So is Tom Holland.” He said in the same calmed velvety tone as before.

Her whole face went pale with the mere mention of his name and her lips parted yet speechless.

“He told me everything at yesterday’s party”, Timothée continued.

Neither of them uttered a word for a few seconds. The sound of applauses and shouts of celebration for the winner echoed from behind.

Alana’s weak expression was replaced by a serious one. She looked away and grabbed her purse.

“Then we’re even.”

“It’s not that”, Chalamet began to elaborate but she cut him off right after standing up from her seat.

“You know? I really wanted this thing between us worked out”

And she walked away of the white tent in that elegant way of hers, praying that he wouldn’t follow her.

But he did, meeting her just halfway to the lavatories. Again, they were face to face. His eyes were almost watery, and the desperation now reflected over his persona.

“What you wanted me to do if not come here? Can you imagine how I felt? You left 2 days after graduation!”

Her eyes almost went watery too at the sound of his broken voice seeking for answers. Though, she swallowed the lump in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest with pursed lips.

“And so, what?”

“Never really got a chance to talk things out”

“We’ve got nothing to say, Timothée.” She responded forcing a smile with pain in her tone as a tear fell down her cheek. “You were always out in parties to ‘find producers’ for your director’s debut in film business”

“When you learned about my crazy past and reputation, I told you I was about to leave it for my Art… And for you”

“And you did?”

“I tried.” Timothée looked away, smoothing his hair back with one hand in an attempt to hold tears inside before locking eyes with Alana again. “But…”

Though, as soon as she heard the same word that had begun past fights between them, Alana exhaled loudly and showed a tired expression.

“Sure, Chalamet. Now please, stop. Let’s be friends and that’s it. Carpe Diem.”

“Don’t come me with the Carpe Diem thing. I’m here because…”

“Timothée, please. We tried a couple of times, and all went to trash. Just…”

But she added no more. Instead, her body turned to follow her heels somewhere far from there.

Timothée sighed as he let her go this time, not being aware that a pair of brown eyes were glued on him with rage injected on them.

****

Tom had won against Chuck Bass. Everyone cheered and congratulated his victory, even some old men in their 60s patted his shoulder after uttering “great match” with a satisfied smile.

In his way to join his family at the white tent, he recognized Alana’s figure walking in the middle of the garden and then being stopped by a man in white suit. Tom had to narrow his eyes to confirm the identity of who his mind already knew; Timothée Chalamet.

He tightened his jaw when he saw Alana leaving the scene with a shadow of pain on her very feature and got to restrain his desire to hit that black wavy head.

****

Spotted at Veuve Clicquot Garden: Tom Holland lifting a golf club to hit not a ball but a curly head. Current Match Play; Timothée 1 - Tom 0

****

Alana touched-up her eyeliner with a powder shadow and used the corner of the makeup sponge to remove any evidence of the smeared eyeliner made by her late watery eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror as she took a deep encouraging breath. She hated the fact she got to ran into the toilettes and hide there from Timothée. ‘What a child I am’.

The Howarth girl took one last glance at the mirror before opening the door back to the garden.

She hadn’t walked three steps when her chest crashed against someone’s back.

“Sorry, am…”, Alana began to apology.

The young man turned around to face her and a genuine smile crossed his face when he recognized her.

“Lana?”

“Harry?”, she smiled too.

Harry Holland, one of the Tom’s brother twins she used to babysit in the building when their parents were away.

They immediately pulled each other into an embrace.

“God! Good to see you”

“Me too. Look how handsome you look”, she eyed him from head to toe.

“And you, pretty as always”, Harry imitated her.

“Where’s Sam?”, Alana’s eyes looked for the other twin behind Harry’s back.

“Probably eating every dessert available”, he giggled. “Come join us”

****

The table Harry leaded her to was filled with the Holland family and her parents, the Howarth.

Just seconds before Alana took a seat, Chuck and Blair appeared. And while he was excusing for leaving early, Blair approached to Alana close enough for her to hear her warning;

“Drama’s not over, A. Just don’t explode here, darling. For your own sake.”

The elegant couple left. Alana showed a polite smile and nodded, not sure what her godmother referred with ‘drama’. Though, she found out a second later when Margot Howarth, her mother, placed her hand on top of Alana’s over the table.

“Alana, here you’re. We were just talking about you”

Indeed, everyone’s eyes were glued on her with big smiles drawn across their faces. Even the twins and little Patrick were happy.

“Europe must’ve been exciting”, Elizabeth Holland, Tom’s mother, said interlacing her fingers over the table as she genuinely smiled.

“It was great, of course.” Alana answered as she grabbed the glass of wine the waiter offered her.

“We’re glad you’re back, dear.” Elizabeth looked at her husband, Dominic, who nodded graciously.

Mrs. Holland was truly happy for her return because she couldn’t stop smiling. She had always appreciated her.

Margot sighed, imitating everyone’s smiles but with a hint of pride in it because was her daughter the main subject, just as she always loved her to be.

“Can you believe? Harry and Sam’s Cotillion is this Friday as your cousin Cass’”, she said raising her eyebrows as if surprised.

Tom arrived, being welcomed with more cheering from his brothers. He took a seat as far from Alana as possible, which was just two seats difference; Patrick and Sam were in between.

“Remember when Alana and Tom went together to Cotillion?”, Elizabeth added with a nostalgic sigh.

“Time flies isn’t it?”, Margot did the same.

“I know… Just think about it. In a blink of an eye, our sons will be getting married”, Mrs. Howarth gathered her hands as in an applause while raising her eyebrows thus drawing a ‘cannot wait’ expression in her feature.

Dominic Holland, who had been chatting along Marcus Howarth about today’s golf match, joined the conversation.

“Alana would be perfect to wear the family ring”

He patted her wife’s hand joyfully. Margot, Elizabeth and Dominic glanced at them with a satisfied smile given, perhaps, by the picture created in their imagination of a perfect wedding.

“Oh she will.” Margot stated. “They’ve been friends since childhood”

This was what Blair warned her about. Tom and Alana uncomfortably sipped two or maybe three times their drinks as if a mirror stood between them. She wished her wine was scotch, while he wished his brandy was vodka.

A heavy environment settled between Tom and Alana’s bodies right after their parents celebrated their fantasy. Even Patrick felt a little weird being‘third wheels’ in this situation.

Harry noticed it too. And the twins made everything in their hands to change the subject back into the next season’s event, suggesting a polo match.

Alana only recognized gross sounds of what was discussed next. Her eyes were blank, realizing that her return wouldn’t be as easy as she thought it’d be. The Holland’s comment made her think of her latest nightmare; her life could change so fast if she married Tom. She’d basically sign herself up for the same traditional life she ran away from; she’d become a socialite woman caught up in the system.

So, the It-girl fumbled her phone out of her Cartier purse and dialed a number she knew by heart. Her thumbs moved fast over the keyboard and clicked the ‘send’ icon.

*****

Start buying those dancing shoes, kids. Looks like we’ll be going to the chapel soon.

****

Hours later, New York City lights announced the beginning of nocturnal life affairs. The city that never sleeps. And less if you’re in the Upper East Side.

After Timothée received Alana’s text, he arranged a reservation for what he saw as a special occasion at Le Bernadin, one of the top six most exclusive restaurants in New York.

Alana arrived there on time in an elegant blue dress. He was already waiting for her at the table and helped her seat by holding back the chair like a true gentleman.

“Thought we’d go somewhere more… private”, her eyes traveled around the place.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Le Bernadin is excellent”, she slightly frowned.

“Not that. I mean, sorry for today’s”, he cleared his throat and showed her an apological smile.

“I’m sorry too. I was maybe a little too harsh with you about the… Chuck thing”

“But you were right about the hiding thing.” He started in such an honest tone that it sent chills down Alana’s back, freezing her on her seat. “I don’t wanna hide anything from you, Lana. That day before our graduation when we broke up and you told me I never committed to our relationship; I couldn’t sleep trying to see it from your perspective. And you were right. After our lovely summer when road tripping all around Western Europe, I pretended to forget my reputation and begin from scratch when it was clear that could never happen. Then parties came and we split for a month because you weren’t used to that part of me. Art class joined us again, you were my date for several parties more and it seemed to work out this time. I just don’t know where it went wrong…”

Timothée stopped to take a deep breath and calm himself, cause up to this moment his tone had changed revealing the true desperation behind his words.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Alana was perplexed. She never imagined herself in that situation with him; at least not outside her dreams. On the contrary, she prayed not to see him ever again, convincing herself that her decision to leave Europe would make things easier for both. Yet he had found his way back to her quite earlier than expected.

Now she sipped her drink to brush away the lump in her throat when the sudden memory of their fights, the nights alone, and their breakup flooded her mind.

“You left me no choice.” She looked away and sighed as she tried to hold the tears inside. “Remember one of our first talks when I told you about how it made me sick all the socialite stuff and its hypocrisy? Well, I was so happy you weren’t so involved in that sick game… New York seemed just a far bad dream.”

The mere memory of a hopeful time made her so nostalgic, that her brain got to remind her to take a deep breath. She turned to face him.

“But when your parties began, I said ‘let’s give it a chance’, though something inside didn’t feel good. Even when that wasn’t the socialite, yet there was a similar sensation with my past. And when our Netflix and cuddle nights became YOUR party nights as soon as some old buddies of yours arrived at your flat, leaving me there ALONE… I just couldn’t handle it no more. I wasn’t ready to deal this new thing.”

Tears flooded her eyes inevitably. And she couldn’t help herself on a few tears from sliding down her cheek. Timothée’s heart ached by watching her in that state. A state he promised he’d never be the cause of, yet he was.

He approached her slowly, sitting at the chair right next to her.

“We could’ve sorted it out together”, Timothée whispered as he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away the tears running down her cheek with his thumb.

“You weren’t there. Your friends needed you.” She avoided any eye contact for her own sake.

“Nothing, listen to me, nothing is more important for me than you.”

Their watery eyes finally met.

“I’m scared. I just don’t…”

But before she could finish her sentence, Timothée passed his hand around her neck and pulled her into a kiss. Her blood ran cold at first but then she succumbed to the moment.

Once they pulled away, both stared deep at each other for an instance before he showed a glint of mixed hope and shyness.

“I’m scared too. I’ve never felt this way for anybody. Didn’t even believe it was possible but seems like Hollywood doesn’t exaggerate.”

“Timothée…”

“I want to try again, please”

“There are no third chances”

“For me, Alana. Do it for me, for us. If you still have feelings for me, even the weakest one, give me a chance, and I’ll prove to you that we aren’t supposed to be apart.”

“I don’t know… How”

“Me neither but we can take a leap of faith, together.”

“A little faith, trust and pixie dust”

Alana giggled and Timothée joined her. The atmosphere between them slightly changed and both hearts felt less heavy. She bit her lip and gave him a slight nod.

“Okay”, she nodded.

“Okay?”

Relief washed over Timothée’s aura, drawing a big smile across his face. One of true happiness.

“We’ll take it slow”, Alana continued as she got contagious with the hopeful ambience between them.

“At our own pace.” Timothée added.

“And won’t let our past get in the way.”

“Promise. I’ve left all behind.”

He stated. And everything seemed as if taken away from a fairy tale the couple had written themselves, making her forget that such a thing cannot be at the Upper East Side.

****

The moment Nate Archibald’s daughter stepped into the Howarth’s penthouse as she had done countless times back in the days, Mishka knew something was going on.

Kiernan Archibald was Alana’s best friend ever since kindergarten, and she never arrived without a reason.

It took no time before the girls gathered at Alana’s room, and ate macarons with champagne.

“You know? When I saw you the day you came back, I almost faint.”

Kiernan had her legs crossed in the air and her abdomen over the bed as she ate another macaron with a smirk.

“Yeah, if it weren’t for Mishka you would’ve hit your head very bad”, Alana giggled while resting her head over her pillow, also on bed.

“Thank heaven I didn’t”, Kiernan joined her giggles and incorporated herself to see her friend better. “Now, tell me about your dinner with that European king.”

“Well, you’re updated with the whole situation”, Alana exhaled loudly as the yesterday scenes came to her mind. “Tom and Timothée already met and my mother is dreaming of her daughter being a Howarth-Holland”

Her friend made an “upps” face as she sipped her champagne glass and bit a strawberry.

“The thing is we decided to give us a new chance.” Alana continued with a hopeful grin drawn across her face.

“Timothée and you?”, Kiernan raised her eyebrows.

“We said we’ll take it slow but-”

Before the Howarth girl could explain, the Archibald heiress cut her off while locking eyes into her friend’s.

“Hey, you like him. If you feel good with him and your gut’s telling you to go for it then go for it”, her hands emphasized her words by opening both as if showing her the answer to her question.

“That’s the matter, Kiki. My gut is out of service or something”

“Wait what?”

Alana took a deep breath, though she knew it was almost impossible to avoid Kiernan’s inquisitive look.

“Listen, what I feel about Timothée is very special. He’s so damn charming and smart and funny. He’s very observant and caring.”

“But?”

“But… That night at my welcoming party when I saw Tom, something inside me kind of winced. And when he spoke to me… Uggh, it sent shivers down my spine”

Kiernan was open-mouthed, processing the situation.

“Oh Lana, you’re in such a trouble.”

Seconds later, she raised her glass at Alana for an impromptu toast in honor of whatever thing came. After both finished the last champagne drop, Kiki added;

“Just give it time. The answer will come to you, A.”

****

Have you been so busy that you’ve forgotten what time of year it is? Couture, quadrilles and cutthroat competition. That’s right. It’s time for Cotillion.

****

Cotillion was a just as Alana remembered. If not better, but she doubted that. She got to admit, when she was Queen the rules were fancier.

Harry and Sam Holland walked towards her as soon as they saw her coming inside.

“Hey, Lana”, the twins said at the same time.

“Guys, look how handsome you’re!”, she smiled as her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Hugo Boss himself said that too”, Harry added and chuckled.

“So, you’re escoting my cousin Cassandra huh?”

“Yeah”, Harry blushed at the sound of her name.

“Take care of her, Harry. And yourself! The Howarths are not easy girls.”

She patted his shoulder, wishing him good luck.

“That’s a fact”, Harry nodded but went pale as soon as he realized she was a Howarth too.

Sam opened his eyes and glanced at his brother with a “bro, wtf” look. He just screwed it up.

“Well, enjoy your night guys”, Alana blinked and forced a smile before walking somewhere else.

Despite her efforts, she couldn’t help the nostalgia vibe that surrounded her; looking at the prep-school girls excited and nervous for their presentation, the boys wearing tuxedos and trying their best against the current king. Everything reminded her the Cotillion she and Tom attended to; they had been the best couple ever since the legendary Blair and Nate or even the unexpected Jenny and Nate one.

At first, she expected the nostalgia would fade away when her brain noticed this wasn’t her Cotillion. But the more she walked around the place, the more it seemed like time had never passed. Every face around her was a face she was familiar with. And she got a weird feeling that they weren’t because of Cotillion but for her; to see with their own eyeballs she was back in New York.

Kiernan was the bell that saved her from getting an anxiety attack.

“Ugh, people always sticking their noses where don’t belong”, the Archibald heiress said as if she had read Alana’s mind.

“Did it say on Gossip Girl that I’d be here?”, Alana inquired with a tired expression.

“Uhm, nope. But it did say about Cotillion and cutthroat competition. You know she likes pun, A.”

“What about that clean slate? She should leave me alone”

“New York missed you”, Kiernan shrugged. “No sign of T.H?”

“Not yet and praying to keep that way.” Alana said in a serious and a hint of worried tone.

Both friends were about to sit when something in the crowd caught their attention. Every young soul there began muttering and pulling their phones out.

“What’s going on?”, Kiernan wondered.

The answer appeared just after her words. There were they; Tom Holland accompanied with Serena van der Woodsen and Dan Humphrey’s son, Noah Humphrey.

Every single phone camera pointed at them.

*******

Spotted: An elite family reunion. Don’t you love Cotillion surprises?

******

Noah Humphrey immediately recognized his friends and walked towards them.

“Look who’s in town!”, he shouted opening his arms.

“Gosh, Noah!”, Alana smiled as both pulled each other into a tight embrace.

Meanwhile, Kiernan and Tom saluted each other by their last names. “Archibald”, “Holland”. She didn’t like him after what happened with her friend, and he just imitated her attitude. Though, Alana’s best friend sacrificed herself and put her dislike apart to take him as far as possible from the Howarth girl.

“Holland, why don’t you tell me where’s Sam? He’ll be escorting my sister Nicole”, Kiernan hold him from his arm forcing him to follow her.

“Sure, he is. Noah?”, Tom locked eyes briefly with Alana and looked at his best friend.

“I’ll stay here.” Noah nodded.

When their bodies disappeared in the crowd, Noah turned back to face her.

“So… Europe, huh?”, Noah giggled. “Was quite a bomb when you left.”

“I know! Everyone keeps telling me about it”, Alana responded aiming to be sarcastic but instead sounding irritated. “Sorry. It’s just so… overwhelming”

“That’s the UEA… And that guy at the airport didn’t help you with the gossip either”

“What do you mean?”, she narrowed her eyes.

“Well, his presence made your return the big hit wondering who he is? Or what is he doing here?”, he looked at her with inquisitive eyes, almost as powerful as Kiernan’s.

“None of their business.” Alana pursed her lips.

“Seriously, Lana. Do we have to care about him?”

“Wha- No! Clean slate, remember? It’s not like the old times.”

“The good old times”, Noah chuckled by the memory of countless party nights. “So, he won’t be here long?”

“Noah, where’s this coming from?”, Alana frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

“From a caring friend.”

He said that truly, but she didn’t see it the same way.

“Oh tell that to someone who knows you less than I do, Humphrey.” She scoffed. “If this is one of Tom’s strategy then I don’t care”

No answer came out of Noah’s mouth. Alana rolled her eyes.

“I’ll go for a drink”, she stated walking away from a friend for the second time in that night.

*****

Once at the bar table with a drink in hand, Alana smoothed her hair back with one hand while letting out a frustrated sigh.

“What does a beautiful woman like you alone?”, a voice asked her seductively from her back.

“Timothée, you came”, she turned to see him standing in an elegant black suite.

“Of course, sweetie. As soon as I read your text, I rushed here.”

“Thanks, wanna join me on preparing my cousin?”

“Sure.” He followed her through an aisle. “What’s this Cotillion stuff?”

“Oh, well is like a social presentation party. It was supposed to be symbolic, but girls take it very very seriously. A battle for power.” She raised her eyebrows ironically. “Cass is not quite the Queen, but my mother forced me to be her mentor”

At the end of the aisle, a door leaded to an elegant room with teen girls in expensive dresses and makeup covering every inch of their bodies waited for the moment.

When Alana entered, every teenager gasped and made way for her to walk comfortably. She frowned at their reaction that back in the days would’ve been completely normal for her. Two seconds later, she found her cousin.

“Cass, you’re perfect!”, Alana complimented her.

Cassandra Howarth was three years younger; therefore, three years less experienced and more pretentious.

“C’mon you don’t believe it”, she got her arms over her hips and not noticed the young man standing behind Alana.

“Harry Holland is your escort, and you’re a Howarth. It’ll be enough for these people.”

Cass stared at her outfit in the mirror and took a deep breath.

“You’re right. The odds are on my favor, you’re my mentee, Blair Waldorf was your mentee… I’ll be fine”, saying this more to herself than for Alana.

A bell announced the Elite Women presentation ceremony was about to begin. The teenagers rushed to the door.

“Good luck”, Alana waved a goodbye.

Timothée and her stood near the stage as a good mentor would do.

The rest of the iconic elite group were seated near the bar, waiting for the show to end. Tom was quite edgy, like a caged tiger deciding whether to eat the iron bars and scape or stay in captivity. Kiernan sipped her mojito, and while she did, she saw through the glass how he made up his mind as he clicked once something on his phone and then kept it in his jacket pocket.

Alana saw that too, though turned her gaze at the stage and swallowed hard.

The Archibald heiress narrowed her eyes suspiciously; she didn't like his attitude one bit. But before she’d approach him, another event caught her attention.

Different ringtones echoed at the same time and every young witness grabbed their phones out to check the notification.

It was Gossip Girl.

Did anyone notice something strange when Alana returned? No paparazzi. Apparently, Europe wasn’t aware of who you are, A. But don’t worry, an anonymous soul has proper manners and sent some details about her big little adventures. Please, shall we enjoy the reading? Cause Gossip Girl goes Europe.

First things first. It was true she ran away from that indecent kiss with our King Tom… But our Queen found a new King in those tiding European lands.

Timothée Chalamet, ladies and gentlemen. If Carlo Magno had a successor, that’s definitely Timothée.

He showed her his Empire, and found love while they did. Just look at these wonderful FRANCE and CARIBBEAN magazine covers.

But then, uh oh. Is that Matty Healy and Alana on MUSIC ICON cover?

Looks like our Queen just expanded her horizons with flying colours. Monte Carlo and Mallorca are her new capitols.

And the party won’t start ‘till New York walks in.

“Fuck…”, Kiernan muttered under her breath as she looked for Alana’s whereabouts.

But, it took no effort to find her; cause people around her had moved aside, forming a circle with Timothée and her as the center.

Alana was puzzled. It was until Timothée handed her his phone with the Gossip Girl’s latest tweet that she understood what was going on.

For an instance, the whole world fell over her chest impeding her to breath. She stared at Timothée with eyes wide open and a shadow of confusion casted on her very feature as Gossip Girl’s last words resonated in the back of her head.

And that’s when her inner voice reawakened. She clenched her jaw, swallowed the venom she just received and holded Timothée’s hand, walking away from that circle.

Perhaps Alana Howarth returned days ago, but the Queen had just woken up. The bitch Queen was back.

Kiernan recognized that glint in her eyes when she reached her friend halfway from the door. And Noah knew it too. Even Tom knew it.

“We’re leaving, see you K”, Alana brushed past her as the valet boy opened the door for the couple.

Timothée followed her from behind, still holding her hand. He was shocked by her brusque change.

Kiernan just nodded.

And, although Cotillion representatives tried to dissipate the atmosphere, Alana left more open-mouthed witnesses than those in Valentine’s Day.

****

Outside, the show continued.

“That’s fucking it”, Alana shouted with anger cracking her voice. She fumbled her phone out her purse and dialed a number. “Geof, meet me at the front door in 2 minutes please”

“I brought my car”, Timothée interrupted.

“Forget it, go home.” She added before hung up.

The valet boy drove Timothée’s Jaguar and the couple got inside. As soon as they were there, he exhaled loudly and fixed his eyes on her.

“So…”, he started. But received no answer.

Silence reigned in the car for a couple of blocks, when a semaphore made them stop. Alana stared at him with a playful grin across her face.

“You know baby? There’s no need to take it slow. Just…”

But before she added something else, she wrapped her hands around his neck and crashed her lips against his; pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

“Are you sure?”, Timothée asked in a soft voice.

Both lovers wrapped their hands and stared straight into each other’s eyes.

“More than ever”, she smirked.

Timothée pulled her in for a second kiss but it was brief this time.

A satisfied smile spread across his face and Alana raised her head as only Queens know when a solemn phrase is about to be said.

“If you can't beat them… Join them”

*****

A, you left America a star. But after your exploits in Europe you’ve come back a supernova. And yet nothing explodes without a fuse. I wonder what —or who— lit yours. Perhaps we all know the handsome answer to that. Just careful with the fire, kids. You might get burned.

You know you love me, XOXO

Gossip Girl.

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