#cttr verse

[puppywritesthings]

wip wednesday

It's Wednesday! I have some work in progress sentences. A text conversation between Camden and Deja.

Before Camden could criticize the choreography even more, she felt a buzz in her pocket.

Deja: Hoe are u doing?

Deja: *How

Deja: SHIT

Camden: I get it, you want us to bang again. 🙄

Deja: UGH 🙄FOR THAT I’M STARTING DANCE MOMS WITHOUT YOU! I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY!

Camden: …what episode?

Deja: CHLOE’S MOM IS MAD THAT MADDIE GOT A SOLO.

Camden: That narrows it down a ton. Thanks.

Deja: It’s the one with empty chair do a solo if you really wanted to know.

Camden: Thanks. As for how my night is going, Bosco hasn’t shown up yet. Their roommate seems chill. We’re watching home videos.

Camden: No that’s not a euphemism.

Deja: Why would I think that? I’m a good Christian woman

Camden: You’re as much of one as I am.

She didn’t receive another response for another couple of minutes, and the chorus concert didn’t get any better. Camden couldn’t have it any other way. Her and Daya nearly died laughing at the brunette's prepubescent voice cracking during a solo, so much that she didn't feel another buzz in her pocket until the show was over.

Deja: SOOOOO…. what are you gonna do if she doesn’t show up?

Shit. She hadn’t thought of that possibility. This whole situation could have been a trick, a cruel joke Bosco played after pretending to surrender. One last 'fuck you' by leaving her alone with someone she barely knew. But now that she thought about it...

Camden: Cry maybe?

Deja: You can always get revenge for standing you up...

Camden: I might be considering it.

"That was fun," Daya got off the couch and ejected the VHS out of the player. "Wanna make fun of my sister's art films next? I say this out of love, of course."

Camden shrugged her shoulders, prompting the other girl to insert a random other tape into the machine.

Camden: Before you ask, do you want me to fuck her roommate?

Deja: Why do you need my permission? It's a free country

Camden: I just need a second opinion.

Camden: Or an enabler.

Deja: Same diff

Camden: Bosco would be so pissed... 😈

Before the little three dots of Deja’s reply popped up, Camden heard a startling knock at the door and the swinging hinges of its opening.

Camden: Speak of the devil, and she arrives. Tty in a bit.

[puppywritesthings]

ah shit, its wednesday, innit. and i have a work in progress.

here’s some cttr sequel.

“Oh hey, Daya.” Bosco greeted, ignoring the ginger who was also in the room.

“How was work?”

“The usual. Brewed some coffee, nearly spilled some drinks, got some stains on this shirt…” They took their shirt off and threw it into a pile of clothes outside of the washing machine, changing into something Camden was a little more used to seeing: a sports bra and whatever pants she was wearing. “I had to break some poor girl’s heart today by saying ‘no, there isn’t a secret menu that you can order off of, and if there is I didn’t hear about it.’ ” 

“Guess that’s why they call it a secret menu then. That stinks. What did they ask for?”

“A cold brew with, like, a few pumps of raspberry, some caramel, and ten pumps of hazelnut with coconut milk. It sounded good, but she got in a tizzy when I told her we were out of hazelnut. She swore it was a drink on some secret menu we had. Even pulled up a TikTok. We aren’t a Starbucks, lady! We might have the same quality coffee and day-old pastries, and we might use your syrups, but – ”

“Maybe we can call off rehearsal, and you can rest for a bit?” Camden asked, ever so concerned for her new friend. “I can leave if you want.”

“Also,” They continued their ranting, unaware of the third British voice chiming into the conversation. “making that oddly specific drink that was one this perceived menu would take up so much time that you might as well just end up getting your usual… or just – I don’t know – a cortado. Speaking of, somebody asked to have a shot of cortado and I nearly wanted to throw up.”

“Please don’t.”

“Holy shit. Camden! About time you showed up!” Bosco chuckled, flopping onto the couch and into her lap after finally noticing the other dancer in their peripherals.

“Damn, Bosco, how long did I keep you waiting?”

“A while… actually, but not long.” The redhead quickly amended, “I had good company.” Daya beamed at the attention given to her.

“Yeah, your girlfriend has great legs!”

Bosco shot a glance at her housemate. “She’s not my–”

“We haven’t put a label on it yet!” Camden cut them off. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but neither of them had the time to think about what they exactly were. They only just stopped fighting a day ago; going that long without insulting each other led to something, right?

[puppywritesthings]

wip wednesday (on a thursday)

so, i’m writing a sequel to Chained to the Rhythm. decent enough way to properly announce that is by doing this.

i hope y’all enjoy what i have so far.

“So it’s a date then?”

Camden held her head in her hand on the other end of the line, half-tempted to hang up then and there. Why did she have to trust people with valuable information? She could have taken that whole encounter in the bathroom to the grave, but when Deja asked her how rehearsal went, her candor outweighed any decency she had left. She left out some of the spicier details – although Deja would have loved to hear those, now wasn’t the time – the events stayed the same. She and her rival accidentally got handcuffed to each other and ended up… doing some things that half-regretted.

“No,” She finally gathered enough willpower to respond,flopping onto the bed so hard that Deja could hear the faint bouncing of the springs. “It’s a rehearsal, and I thought I made that perfectly clear. Nothing is going to happen. We’re just two girls working on a project together over at their place.” Two girls who just also happened to have had sex with each other on a whim.

“That’s a funny way to say ‘date’.” Deja teased. “Be honest with yourself. From what I understand, you both have some mutual attraction to each other, and you both acted on said attraction.”

“Well, if you want to get technical, it would be more like a hookup than a date –”

“Atta girl!” The other woman cheered loud enough to get some looks from the people around her.

“What I’m saying is,” Camden whispered, “Forget that. It might not even go there. What if all of what Bosco was saying was just so she could get out of the handcuffs? Some… high from that. Watch me go to their doorstep, and we’ll be back at square one.”

“Listen, I don’t know her as well as you do, but I hope that doesn’t happen. And if it does, you know I’ll pick you up immediately. Maybe stop for Cold Stone and then we’ll put on an episode or two of Dance Moms?”

“That’s a deal. Talk to you later, and I’ll let you know how it goes.” They said their goodbyes and Camden hung up, charging her phone briefly as she turned over. The possibilities of how this rehearsal could go were endless.

When she told Bosco she had no idea what was in store, she truly meant it. 

Shortly after… everything that transpired, Bosco texted her with a light outline of what they wanted to get done and a few other logistics: experimenting with some more choreography, actually figuring out the right set of cuffs for the dance, costuming, et cetera. One update later, she received some news that made her feel bad, yet only invigorated her at the same time.

They couldn’t rehearse in the studio. Some other group had booked their normal room ahead of time.

Camden: Fuck.

Bosco: oh no. whatever shall we do.

Camden: I guess we just have to go to *your* place then 😉

Bosco: what a tragedy. going over to my place

Bosco: where we don’t have to worry about strangers walking in.

Bosco: i need to clean up. make sure we have room and all.

Camden: If we go overtime and not get as much done,  maybe I could sleep over?  

Bosco: i don’t know… i have to ask my mom first. i have a really big soccer game tomorrow and she normally doesn’t like having people over before then.

Camden: -_-

Bosco: in all seriousness, yeah. i gotta let daya know you’re coming.

Camden: Sounds good to me.

Bosco: see you then?

Camden: See you then. ;)

The alarm clock on the bedside table ticked endlessly, taunting her until her alarm went off, telling her to stop lying in bed and start heading to Bosco’s place. It suddenly occurred to her that she should get changed. Camden quickly sat up and rifled through her drawers. Her outfit was fine, but she needed underneath to be better. She quickly changed out of her underthings into something pinker and lacier, something that would make her feel more confident in her sexuality. 

Sooner than later as she was midway through putting her skirt back on, she got a text message from another group chat.

Little Miss Jorgeous: Good Luck On The Date. 😃

Camden: 🫠

[puppywritesthings]

11 for the wip asks?

here's some chained to the rhythm sequel

fair warning, it's a little spicy but not explicit.

Before she could even think about a rehearsal question, Camden found herself pushed against the washing machine with no real way of escape. It always came back to that height advantage. Plus Bosco's arms were keeping her trapped between them and the machine. “Oh, fuck me…” She cursed under her breath.

“And skip the foreplay? Patience is a virtue, my dear.”

"I somehow knew you were going to do that."

They ignored that remark and started kissing up Camden's neck. "I missed you. Just wanted some you and me time..."

"But here? Of all places? You have a bedroom, after all."

Bosco only laughed, wagging her finger as if they were scolding a child. "That's a lot of restraint for someone who had me eat her out in the bathroom…"

The redhead could barely focus on what she was saying as the growing vibrations of the machine stuttered her words. "Touché... but what if Daya walks in?"

[puppywritesthings]

wip wednesday

here’s some more cttr sequel that i wanted to post for a six sentence sunday, but my motivation was not having it.

tl;dr: camden meets daya

She let the most recent song finish before she turned off the car, hopping out of the driver’s seat with her dance bag slinged over her shoulder. Camden hopped up the flights of stairs leading to Bosco’s apartment and rang the doorbell. Running her fingers over the strings of her bag, she stared at the door. It was a nice enough door: there weren’t many knots in the wood grain as far as she could tell. The painter must have done a good job covering those if there were. She fidgeted with the door handle, the anticipation from seeing Bosco again bubbling up in her gut. 

Her impatience was met with someone who wasn’t Bosco opening the door and towering over the ginger. She was coated in a layer of sweat – Camden could only wonder how much they had the heat on – and one of her hands scratched behind her short, near shoulder-length mullet. “Hi.”

“You’re not Bosco.” An obvious observation that she immediately regretted, Camden wanted to leave immediately but was slightly overwhelmed by the taller brunette in the Paramore t-shirt. It would have been rude to leave since her partner wasn’t there. After all, they did tell her the usual time, and it was a good fifteen minutes before then. 

“I know.” She nearly interrupted as she stood in the middle of the doorway.

“You must be Daya then?” She tilted her head, confused as to why Daya wasn’t moving. “I only asked because… she’s mentioned you a few times.”

The brunette nodded, beaming at the acknowledgement. “The one and only,” she replied. “So you’re why Bosco came home like that.”  

“What… made you think that?”

“She said she was rehearsing yesterday, and that you’re rehearsing today. And if she came home covered in bruises – and I know she’s not that clumsy –, then…” Daya shrugged her shoulders, getting out of the doorway as if she just remembered her guest needed to go in. “I just put two and two together.”

“That makes sense… I guess. Unless she saw someone else...”

“They wouldn’t have had time. Anyway, has anybody ever told you that you have really toned legs? Like… you could crush a watermelon with those without effort.”

She blushed at the unexpected compliment, but mentally smirked. The short plaid skirt seemed to have been working its magic —almost a bit too well— and everything was going as planned. Once Bosco got home, they would have definitely had a cow. “Thank you… it pays being a dancer. I’m doing what I love, plus it’s a great workout. Good on the legs, good on the glutes.” 

Daya laughed as she closed the door behind the two of them, leading Camden to the couch. “Oh, I could imagine… It’s weird not seeing Bosco flopped onto here after a rehearsal.”

“He really gets people knackered, doesn’t he…” Camden said as if Daya had an idea of what she was talking about. “Our instructor, I mean.” She clarified. “I’m not making much sense, am I?” The brunette nodded her head. “Don’t worry. You’re making sense. I’m honestly surprised I know what I’m talking about. Believe it or not, I did theater in high school.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Show choir too. God, I probably sound like a dweeb.”

The redhead could only laugh at how Daya was making it sound like it was the most embarrassing secret in the world. “Well, that makes two dweebs then.”

[puppywritesthings]

Top row: Camden and Bosco at the beginning of Chained to the Rhythm

Bottom row: Camden and Bosco at the end of Chained to the Rhythm

[puppywritesthings]

What is each member’s love language? For dancers camsco?

What is each member’s love language?

Physical touch ;)

But also physical touch in the less ;) sense. Cuddles are nice.

Camden's other main love language is words of affirmation, while Bosco's other ones in this verse are a tie between acts of service and quality time.