alias: ana
pronouns: she + her
hogwarts house: hufflepuff tbh lets be real
what you’d like to see out of selfish: a sense of community!!! i love feeling close + bonded with other members, it makes the site experience more home-y n nice.
anything else: ummmmmm im annoying and i love one direction and taking naps thats basically it and rn i sound like a 2012 relatable meme post
gif that represents you: i'm mobile but pretend there is some vague like weird harry styles gif from 2014 like the one where he's going 'i was on a train' idk
liev radford leaves a bitter taste in everyone's mouth. maybe it's his perfectionism. maybe it's his abrasive personality. nobody can quite place it, but there is something sour that sticks around after you mention him. he's never tried to do anything to change that either, liev radford knows who he is. and that bitter taste is undoubtedly him.
+ liev doenst actually know what it means to be a twin he literally seperated himself from alexis as a kid he dont know ok
+ he isolated himself with his ballet.
+ ballet is literally his fucking life. liev lives breathes and dies for ballet.
+ when i say liev is a perfectionist i literally don't mean he is like lol i ahve to have my books organized, i mean he is literally everything in his life has to go as planned and everything needs to be perfect.
+ he'll spend hours in the studio working out a routine until it is flawless, even if that means popping advil so the pain in his ankles dulls.
+ his way or the high way????????? he'll probs scream if something goes wrong.
+ probably a demonic entity tbh. idk if he even has friends he is such... a mean person?? like he doesn't think before he speaks and not in a quirky oh im sorry i didnt mean to offend... he literally just fucking says it???!?! i don't know what to say.
+ he's like the child of regina george and monica geller
+ idk what else to put he's a demonic entity a demon but also possessive and extremely loyal when u get down to the ~~roots~~
nineteen years old. gigi hadid. kind of a huge ass fucking nerd. majoring in bio with plans to go to med school. also fucking kicks ass in the boxing ring. super gay. and really knows her best friend is in love with her.
+ sum fun little notes abt astrid
+ she's super gay also......that's a thing
+ perpetually late and disorganized. she works on her own little clock which is always 5 or so minutes behind everyone else's.
+ always finds a way to sleep in classes
+ she's half-palestinian and is a non-practicing muslim.
+ she really really really wants to be an obstetrician
+ been boxing since she was five
+ allergic to cats, but she's a cat person.
+ a mess.
ok so im making a gigi hadid and she is gonna be a super smart babe who boxes n also enjoys things that are stereotypically feminine and i want her to have a kendall jenner gf :) someone make me a kendall gf...my aim is @ daddypaynes :~~~)
[ one ] about: my name is ana and i'm posting this again and like i said b4 -- im from alaska and that's literally the only thing that matters tbh...
[ two ]sign : i'm a libra with a pisces moon and cancer rising and im an esfp!!!!
[ three ] what you’re excited about : honestly i'm just excited to plot cause im a fucking plot...ho..? i love drama and i love having a community of people to plot with and have die along with me... and just amazing things and beautiful people
[ four ] what you’d want in your ideal site: just a good fuckin time???? im easy 2 please [ five ] what brought you to the site, what you want to bring onto the site: good vibes and good energy
[ six ] kim or kourtney: kim and kourtney who? zayn malik
[ seven ] contact info: um!!!! my aim is @ daddypaynes and i also have skype!!! also im lowkey looking for a liam payne (tentative face) for my hstyles liev so if ur interested aim me and i can dish out deets 4 u ;-)
ok so !!! the face i have on reserve is louis tomlinson and i kind of plan on making him an asshole?? like i really wanna make him like justin bieber-esque???? is that bad???? BUT ANYWAYS he's probs gonna be some like ~pop-star and his mgmt probs has him on this i'm gonna clean up my image-esque campaign so people like him and buy his music again. and he probs isn't supposed to be fuckin' around with people or out partying (but he is bc he literally doesn't listen)?? and probs fuckin around with guys specifically and that's not very like... 'family-friendly' according 2 his label... and if you would enjoy playing a guy that he is fuckin around w/ hmu and we can do smth?? my aim is @ daddypaynes if ur interested?? and we can drum up angst and drama and beef?
kay so im gonna brief yall on abe when i say brief i really mean brief bc this boy is just..... a mess. born in north dakota, raised as an evangelical christian. decided at 16 it was time to book it the fuck outta there, stole some money & landed in la. was homeless for a bit while he learned the ropes & waited tables. then became sugar baby extraordinaire at 17. he’s had about 7 sugar daddies at once that have basically given him everything he has, his apartment, his clothes, absolutely everything he has is way too much but also he didnt pay for it so it’s ok :) now he has a bf (gonna land himself another too, yay for polyamory). and a few things just to sum him up: has tasteful nudes of himself hung up around his apartment, can’t eat w/o making it sexual, is a wine mom, and is sometimes dumber than a box of rocks. he’ll need buddies!!!! n enemies.
josefina flores de la cruz. 19. extroverts. camila cabello.
alright josefina here....is...a whirlwind of just...bitch. born as a first generation american in east la to two cuban parents. she’s fluent in spanish, fluent in bitching u the fuck out, and fluent in the art of using ppl for her own gain :) how cool :) she isn’t nearly as complicated as abe dw dw. she’s currently in university and since she didn’t want to put a heavy burden on her parents (who arent making that much money) she took up being a cam girl :):):):) she’s pretty damn good at what she does so she’s fuckin happy. while also making money for herself and being able to pay for her college :^). sHE”LL need friends enemies. i think ihave her p squared away for lovers but hook ups rncie
more writing shit bc im a great friend pls it's shit but idk
it’s about 3am when he calls harvey, he knows it’s late but he’s aching for some sort of high. micah spend his night tossing and turning, he has coke. it’s right there on his bed side table, but he can’t bring himself to snort a line right now. harvey’s image is etched into his mind, the feeling of harvey’s skin is burned into micah’s finger tips, and he just can’t bring himself to do a line when he’s thinking of harvey like this.
micah needs harvey to be with him now and to his surprise, harvey answers.
and micah pleads with him, his breath shaky because he’s itching for a high and nothing feels right. he hears harvey sigh over the phone, the line is silent for a brief moment, before he says he’ll come over.
relief washes over micah, he lets himself sink into his bed. trying to deter his mind from the drug that is calling his name, that he can’t bring himself to do because of the way some man makes him feel.
it takes harvey longer to get to micah’s shabby apartment than micah can cope with, he is tempted to just snort the coke. make everything numb and feel like he can take on the world, but a knock on his apartment door brings him out of this thought. micah makes his way to the door, opening it for harvey.
harvey isn’t even inside the apartment for a second before micah is kissing him hungrily, hands tugging at the waistband of the sweatpants that are hanging on harvey’s waist.
micah knows that harvey knows something is wrong as soon as harvey mutters out a wait just as micah is about to tug off the sweatpants.
if there is one thing about micah and sex, he is always slow and tender. taking his time, making sure his partner feels just as good as he does. soft touches, long strokes, and deep passionate kisses. sex with micah is intimate, it isn’t rushed, and it’s almost as if he treats sex like he is creating a new painting. he takes his time.
and micah just backs up from harvey after he is told to wait, his facial expression conveying hurt and anxiousness. harvey just knows. he knows him too well already.
it’s absolutely terrifying, but comforting. the other man knows something is up, he tells micah it’s okay that he isn’t okay. that all he wants to do is lie down, micah complies. because he just needs someone to touch him to tell him things will be alright.
when they are curled up in bed together that is exactly what harvey does, he whispers sweet nothings into micah’s hair until micah is reduced to tears in harvey’s arm. this is what love feels like, he’s sure of it. the security that harvey provides is far more extreme than the security of the cocaine, of the pot, of anything he’s ever felt before in his life. harvey hushes him softly, rubbing circles into his back.
micah hates that he is crying right now, but harvey makes it seem okay. that it’s okay that micah is finally showing some emotion, actually feeling instead of blocking it out.
he’s scared. but it’s okay, as long as he has harvey. he’s fine.
the feeling of security is what compels him the next morning to become sober. the coke is flushed down the toilet while harvey is asleep, and micah cries for what seems like hours in the living room.
i dunno what to say about this other than im emo as hell and it's complete n total DOo DOoo but u wanted to read it so lmao here it go
the note had been written for a long time. almost a year. he didn’t know when he planned on going, nor did he know who was going to read it. finn was almost sure his dad wouldn’t read it, if he did it wouldn’t mean anything to him. the note was more of just a goodbye to things he might have cared about, stupid things really. like the stray cat down the block that would always be in the same place whenever he would walk home from school. or maybe just that one time some kid said hi to him in the hallway, it was really just a goodbye to the little things that made him happy.
but inanimate objects wouldn’t miss him, nobody would he didn’t think. the couch he sat on and made little bracelets on wouldn’t miss him, the little radio in his room he used to listen to the radio wouldn’t miss him, and his songwriting notebook wouldn’t miss him. there was nobody alive that cared enough about finnegan knight to really and truly miss him. other kids died before, there were assemblies for them. people who never even spoke to the kids pretended to miss the person for a week or so before they were forgotten. that’s how he pictured how things would be after he died.
the world would most certainly keep spinning.
finnegan knight’s death would not be significant.
today was different, he knew now. he knew he was going to die after school, but it didn’t really make him feel different. every day had practically been the same for him, someone would say something to him. tease him about being tall, tease him about being gay, something of that sort. finn would offer a half-hearted smile in response, not knowing what to say. because he never fucking knew what to say.
he was halfway through the school day which meant he was halfway to dying. and with the kid following him and calling him faggot, it didn’t seem so bad right now. in fact, it almost seemed like it would be better. finn just wanted to go. he wanted to leave. the thought of what everyone said when someone committed suicide, you always had someone to talk to. there was always someone who cared. they were very wrong or at least finn thought so, because never in his hole life had he felt more alone then the day he planned to die.
lunch was the same. lunch was always the same, he sat in the corner away from everyone and nibbled on whatever he had managed to scrounge up from the kitchen. there was a table of upperclassman that always looked at him, whispered and laughed. sometimes they called him names, sometimes they just pointed. either way finn was just trying to not look at them, they were making him sick today. he kind of wanted to throw up.
and then someone sat down in front of him. finn shakily set down his food and looked up, there was a boy. finn recognized him from the table of upperclassmen. this had to be some sort of joke, he was gonna harass finn. he was gonna do something to make finn want to die more.
it was the opposite of what finn thought, it ended up being the first time someone spoke to finn since middle school with words that weren’t laced with pity or calling him a faggot. it was normal, it was conversation. it was genuine.
the boy was beautiful and his name was joey. for once finn was able to block out the table full of boys, everything was focused on joey.
everything was joey, joey, joey. and finn knew that it would be like that from now on.
joey asked him if he wanted to hang out after school and finn nearly broke down in tears right there at the table, because for once someone wanted to hang out with finn. someone actually wanted him to come over after school, talk with him, laugh with him, joke with him. and finn was almost positive he was in love right there.
it was quite silly maybe, but finn could absolutely not help being so dependent and so naive. he didn’t know better. probably never would. even though he had been bullied the majority of his life, the trust he put in people that paid attention to him was excruciating.
they hung out after school, finn didn’t bother to tell his dad. he didn’t care what his dad thought for once, not caring that he’d probably have fresh new bruises on his abdomen tomorrow morning. it would be worth it.
joey’s house was stunning and large, everything was in it’s place and perfect. finn liked how pretty everything was, but he didn’t like how hollow it felt either. but it was okay, joey was vibrant in a way that finn couldn’t quite understand. joey spoke with a slight drawl to his voice, finn loved that. he described himself like he was something boring, but he wasn’t. finn was absolutely determined to figure out joey, even if it took him a lifetime.
they sat in joey’s room and just talked. it was nice, finn just lied there on the floor, turning his head to look at joey ever so often, who was sat on the bed. the light through the window would catch joey’s face in a certain light, and finn wanted to tell him how pretty he was. though he knew if he told someone how pretty they were when they had first met, he would surely lose his first friend. it was perfect, joey was perfect, everything was perfect.
and for once finn forgot how much he wanted to die. he forgot how heavy and sick he felt when he woke up in the morning, he forgot how he reread his note, placing it carefully on his bed before he left. taking so much care even though he knew the first person to find him would be his dad, who couldn’t care less about his own son. finn felt alive sitting there on the carpet of joey’s room. and he couldn’t be more thankful.
by the time he left joey’s, it was dark. but finn only had to weave through a few yards before he made it back to his house. his father was still awake, but for once the yelling didn’t make him flinch and burst into tears. he took the beating he knew he had in store for him, then slunk up the stairs, for once not caring how much his ribs hurt. there was so much on his mind, all of it related to how joey looked, how joey talked, everything was joey.
the note was there lying on his bed, finn felt sick looking at it.
he woke up feeling dead, but now he felt alive.
there was no way finnegan knight was dying when joseph kessler just showed up in his life.
finn ripped up the note, tossing it in the trash bin next to his bed.
micah constantly aches. whether it’s his mind aching for the rush of a cocaine high or his bones aching to feel like they are melting from a hit of a blunt. he always aches.
he’s an art student, with a shabby apartment so graciously paid for by his parents out of guilt. they had asked him if he wanted a better one, he declined. micah needed somewhere where he could smoke and let go. the landlord only complained of the marijuana smell once, micah offered him a blunt with a shrug, and he never came back except to collect rent.
there is a large window in the apartment that faces the sunsets. every evening, micah lights a blunt, takes a seat in his old grey sofa, and watches the sunset. letting himself melt with the colors along the horizon.
when the sun goes down completely, he paints what he saw. letting the oranges on the canvas melt together. there are about half a dozen sunset paintings around his house but he can’t find it in himself to mind. when he finds something more beautiful to paint, he’ll paint that, but for now. it’s just the sunsets.
micah doesn’t do love, he can’t feel love how he imagines he should feel it. though he wants to someday, he knows he can’t. micah is a mess of addiction and wispy behavior, he comes and goes out of people’s lives. there is no constant in micah’s life besides the drugs, which basically make him unable to be a constant in his own life. he is barely there.
he will never allow himself to be a constant in someone’s life until he can be a constant in his own.
so he aches.
he meets the school teacher outside a bookstore late at night, micah is smoking a cigarette as he waits for his dealer, who might not show, he’s 20 minutes late. he is itching for a high as he takes a drag of his cigarette. the teacher exits the book store just as micah’s head turns to the door and he exhales the cigarette smoke in a swirl.
micah swears he has never seen someone so beautiful. he can’t help but stare, micah is an observer, an admirer, he can’t help how his gaze lingers upon the petite frame of the man who is now giving him quite the odd look.
micah just smirks and snubs out the cigarette in the ash tray above the trash. he makes a comment about being at a bookstore so late, the man snorts, says loitering outside a bookstore smoking cigarettes isn’t such a good look either.
they strike up a conversation, he finds out the man is named harvey and it’s his first year teaching upperclassman at a local high school. micah tells harvey that he’s an art student at the university, that he won’t ever have as steady of a job as harvey. harvey laughs and the sound is beautiful to micah. he is unsure of what he is feeling, but he’s slightly scared.
he hasn’t ever let himself even think of someone like he is now.
and with that thought, he tells harvey that he hopes to see him around sometime. micah lights another cigarette as he walks away, knowing that he needs to get high tonight to forget the way he thought of harvey.
micah misses all his classes the next day.
and it seems he has found something more beautiful than sunsets to paint.
tan is the color of harvey’s skin. chocolate is the color of harvey’s hair. he paints the portrait of the school teacher with care, trying to remember the way his cheekbones looked. or the dip of his color bone. the curve of his adam’s apple.
he finds himself at the bookstore later again that night, this time he wasn’t waiting for his dealer. he really doesn’t know why he is here, but a feeling int he pit of his stomach tells him that it’s harvey.
when he sees harvey approach, a grin slowly makes it’s way across his face.
god, he is still so beautiful.
they make small talk and joke about how they both showed up again.
he notices that harvey has a different air about him, micah doesn’t know what is different. maybe it’s the reason why they are here.
they are here for each other.
harvey invites him for something to eat, micah cracks a joke about how it’s quite late and why would he go out with a stranger.
and harvey retorts with something about how he is inviting an art student who smokes cigarettes and loiters outside a bookstore to go out to eat.
micah doesn’t say anything, but he let’s out a sigh that really just signified that micah wishes that is all he did.
he goes along with him to eat though, he is good company. micah doesn’t talk much, but he listens. he takes note of the little things harvey does, how he scrunches his nose when he laughs. micah likes that a lot.
and he forgets whose idea it was, but they go to a bar after they eat. they get drunk. and micah ends up back at harvey’s apartment.
they hook up.
and oh god micah wakes up in the morning scared, because he really doesn’t want to forget the feeling of harvey’s skin under his palms or the way he looked like some sort of masterpiece.
micah thinks he is going to throw up.
he leaves, but he leaves a note with his number.
when he gets back to his apartment he checks to see if he has any cocaine left.
and he snorts what he has.
his pupils dilate and his heart races.
though it’s not enough, he can’t forget harvey. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to really.
and maybe micah just wants harvey to be that drug rushing through his veins.
the way harvey makes micah feel is better than any blunt or any line of coke. harvey makes micah feel human.
and micah hasn’t felt human in ages.
there was a point when micah lost the ability to feel anything, there was one too many blunts maybe, and he knows there was one too many lines. it was something micah dreamt of, to be able to feel numb to everything. to be able to tune everyone out. but now it didn’t seem so good. and a teacher with ocean blue eyes helped him figure that out.
micah doesn’t own a television, he sits in front of the big window that faces the sunsets in the evenings so the orange light washes over him. on this particular night, his hair was a mess, the circles underneath his eyes were darker, and his clothes hung off of him, making it clear what toll the drugs were having on him. none of that stuff really mattered right now.
his mind was concentrated on harvey.
he doesn’t know why but this happens every night.
every night he sits in front of the window, incense burning in the apartment, no sound but a scratchy vinyl of the smiths, and he thinks of him. the way harvey looks when micah is on top of him, marking up his neck with purple bruises, or the way harvey’s torso feels under micah’s paint stained hands.
part of him wants this more than anything in the world, a want more than any drug could satiate. micah wants to rush to harvey and tell him how he feels about him, every single stupid little feeling. how he thinks he is more beautiful than how the sunset melts all the colors together, how the sound of his laughter is more beautiful than any old jazz record, and how harvey makes him feel alive for once.
but that’s what he is scared of.
feeling alive.
micah has been disconnected for basically half of his life, he was able to come and go. not be attached to people, feelings, at least passionate ones, were never a problem. always on the edges of everyone else, he was an observer. only ever feeling emotions as someone on the outside looking in.
then someone like harvey comes along, completely engulfing him in something he has never experienced before. or at least, never in this way.
love has always been a touchy subject for micah, he’s never quite grasped what it was. his parents were always hollow with their love, micah was always unaware if they actually meant it or they were feeling guilty for treating him as if he was unimportant. of course, micah loved things. he loved pot, he loved incense, and he loved sunsets. though none of those things were capable of making him feel the way a live human being could.
when harvey touches him or calls him beautiful, micah’s heart skips a beat. he’s unsure if the feeling in his stomach is him needing to throw up or he’s getting butterflies. everything is so real with harvey, the way harvey looks at him with those blue eyes is enough to send micah into shock. he’s sure of it.
everything is real with harvey, it’s almost too real. that’s the thing.
harvey is so stable, he’s always there. he’s the rock.
micah is like the ocean. he comes and goes, occasionally he engulfs the rock but it’s only for a little bit before the tide washes out again.
micah hopes someday his tides will stop changing so he can love harvey the way he wants to.
