#dandelionwritexs

[finelinc]

@dandelionwritexs​ !

––––––––––––IT’S PAINFULLY OBVIOUS how different the two are. they come from absolutely different worlds, it even more so obvious in their interactions. but hey, that didn’t stop dylan from trying. she was someone who easily caught his eye, and he was so determined to get to know her. so hey, that’s exactly what he was trying to do right now. get to know her. easily sitting back in the car, eyes follow the girl as she gets closer, just amused by her entire presence. not quite like the guys he normally surrounded himself with. as she approaches his car, he unlocks the vehicle, and amused look on his face.       ‘ took you awhile. had a hard time getting away ? ’

[homoerotiique]

for @dandelionwritexs continued from here:

It’s looking to actually be a lovely London morning, if the soft light streaming in from narrow windows is any indication. Setting intention and mood for any day is paramount, even one in which she has an unexpected guest. So she has her usual morning ritual going-- a little Blossom Dearie vinyl spinning at low volume and a few candles lit and crackling in her makeshift faux fireplace-- all for ambiance-- and the scent of steeped coffee wafting through the tiny flat.

You have to set the stage for a good day, and it starts as soon as you wake up. Really.

She’s curled into a chair at her kitchen table, dressed in an old white tank and a pair of dark blue boyshorts, one bare leg pulled up to her chest while she surveys the sheet music spread in front of her. The first stirrings from the bedroom perk Ches’ attention. Glancing up at the sound of movement, she sets her pencil down and scoots around her chair to the French press.

“I’ll make coffee,” she calls out into the bedroom. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She can’t help but laugh softly to herself at the specified order coming from the other room. Somehow it doesn’t surprise her. It’s not even that demanding or anything at all, but it’s something specific beyond the offered, simple coffee, and that checks out if her first impressions last night are anything to go by.

Ches uses one hand to carefully stir a teaspoon of sugar into the still warm coffee cup while she hoists herself up on her toes on one foot to pitch herself to the right, reaching with her other hand into the freezer to grab a few ice cubes. She’s nothing if not accommodating.

Once the first cup is ready, bare feet pad into the bedroom ( she has to smile, instantly, at the sight of the golden-haired girl all wrapped up in her bed ) and she offers her hookup the coffee. 

“Good morning.” Still smiling. Still pretty proud of herself. “I’m vegan, so I hope you don’t mind oatmilk creamer.”

[lavenderrpages]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

             margot had the patience of a child. ( a lack of which made her poor for ever creating art, better off sticking with being a curator. she always had faith that she succeeded better down that path, and she had. )  she hadn’t even been hungry. the craving for the blueberry scone she had picked apart came from the growing boredom.  “ how long is it going to take you to finish that sudoku puzzle ? ”  the woman tried all of her might not to string a whine through the vowels as she spoke. it was hard not to, she had planned to get up early and fill her day off with mini-adventures. - adventures that would be decent enough for her Louboutin heels to walk through, that was.  “ any longer, and i’ll have to put on some aging cream...”  there was a slight huff at the tail end. 

              circling around the ballet instructor, margot’s index finger traced the side of the ceramic mug of dark coffee. it felt hot.. and that disappointed her. hot meant freshly poured, and that seemed to come with time to spend drinking it.. time the woman was stretching thin with.  “ i need to age gracefully, and wrinkles aren’t in my near future, darling.”  fingers leaving the mug found a new resting spot onto olivia’s shoulder.  hovering was a tactic, if margot could just make olivia feel suffocated a little bit, perhaps it would get them leaving sooner.  “ numbers make my brain ache.”  she sighed giving the curve of the woman’s shoulder a squeeze. 

                                                        @dandelionwritexs​ . //

[longtxts-a]

                        hello ?

    jian stared at his phone for what seemed to be the thousandth of time, and he doesn’t know what to do. you’d think with how confident he is most of the time: he’d know what to do right ? wrong. it felt like it’s been forever since he’s talked to rowan and suddenly: he doesn’t like it. work has always been a cause of debate in their home, and he feels like a mess. he’s exhausted, overworked. trying to think of a way to be able to make more sales. the people want something new, something to differentiate from the usual boba. his desserts need an upgrade too, and he simply cannot find any inspiration. is there something wrong in his head ?

     he lives with his boyfriend, yet he feels like only a few spoken words are between them. the petit male looks at his laptop and out to the shop and in his savings. how much can he afford to close. just to close shop for vacation. a month ? two weeks ? he needs to find a way to cover for his employees paychecks too. once he closed for the night, he posted up a sign, closed until further notice. his employees even noticed how different he’s been lately. he took a deep breath before fishing his keys from his bag, heading towards his car. the ride home: was suddenly some of the weight lifting up from his shoulders. he was in his thoughts most of the ride, even as he parked and went up the steps. unlocking the front door and stepping inside.  

          “ ro ? “

@dandelionwritexs​

[hcmoheart]

a bottle of red wine splattered in dozen of pieces was all it took for cherie’s mask to break. the charade she managed to hold up for days, weeks, came to an end within an instant. the time she spent flying over to europe, kept the federal bureau of investigation’s name up to the status it lived up to. traveled by train throughout the countries, visiting many as equally professional. england was her final destination, the heart of london she silently oh so adored. but there was no time for adoration, nor appreciation for the beauty of the city. she had to keep focused, play her part and tighten up that rope around her neck just tight enough to not feel a thing.

but when that bottle met the white marble tiles, cherie’s train of thought made way for a repressed trauma memory that made its way back to the surface faster than the blonde was ready for. a darker hue blurred her vision, one that felt warm and sticky on her skin, her hands dipped in them, in the blood that pooled around the locals’ bodies. around the ones she loved and adored so much ... her parents that became a distant memory as she witnessed the life fading away from their eyes — a second it took for cherie to get on her feet and run. run like hell.

and get out of the crowded room, she did. how she made it onto the quiet balcony, was purely based on her survival skills. survival instinct. whatever she needed, her body knew what to do. but her brain ... that was were the flaws started to show, the entire reason why she got pulled back from the field. and put on idle, for sanity reasons. sanity she knew she’d never find.

@dandelionwritexs​

[lovcfools]

BASED OFF OF THIS PLOT ! FOR @dandelionwritexs

ailey wasn’t expecting to jump into the middle of some damn shit show, she just wanted her bra back. nothing else, just the support she spent twenty-four dollars on after she accidentally was accepted for the damn credit card. all that effort to be lost to her damn neighbor ? hell no — but now, she was rethinking. especially when some chick was yelling about infidelity and betrayal. her hands were up in surrender, one hand still holding his plaid print boxers. “ hey , HEY , i just want what i left in the washer, i do NOT want that man — ” her eyes pull past the girl, focused on the other, “ so , please take your damn boxers back , buddy . ” the woman lowered her free hand in expectation of her bra. “ next time , when i call dibs on a dryer , you better listen . ”

[stcrlets]

snapchat ⟶ logan🙄

@dandelionwritexs

NEBRASKA: don’t know why i have to snapchat you NEBRASKA: but are you coming in today or not?

[finelinc]

@dandelionwritexs​ !

–––––––––––IT WAS INFORMATION he wasn’t supposed to know. everyone else had known, and he seemed to be the last person to know, the information accidentally slipping from someone in the mafia to him. it was clear that they didn’t know about his relationship with alexandria, and his reaction to the news showed that he clearly had one. a fact that he was sure, no matter how much he kept a secret, his father had known about and that’s what it had taken so long for it to get back to him. but he’s upset, angry, and suddenly a ball of anxiety. he didn’t know just how long she had been a target, but it had him driving haphazardly too late at night to her place, finding a quiet spot where he wasn’t easily found, and scoping the area. clearly, he was too close to her for him to get involved, but dylan always protected those he cared about, even if there weren’t many. despite the comment he made a few weeks ago about how he would never want to actually be inside her house, he finds himself sneaking in, avoiding every camera, simply knocking on her window and waiting. he really did hope she was home. the anxiety knot in his stomach said otherwise.