#graftisms

[blondcs]

time:  day 32  / after dinner.

location:    lounge.

featuring:   @graftisms​

everyone in the villa’s in agreement that since callie and angel did both the shopping and the cooking, there’s no way in hell they should do the cleaning. jenny does her part, reliving her waitressing days clearing off tables and stacking separate piles of plates and silverware, but the kitchen is tiny and when it gets too crowded she politely steps back to let the louder personalities handle the rest, heading off to pull jude. finding him is easy as ever, like she’s got a built in tracker for him now, an awareness of his body that extends beyond touch and an ear that can pick out his voice all the way across the villa. plus, he’s one of the few people not trying to prove themselves by washing a single dish like it’s the pinnacle of good citizenship.he’s with angel though—anyone else and she might’ve interrupted, but the two have been separated too long today, his words not hers, so she slinks over to the lounge instead, tentatively perching herself close (but not too close) to callie. “they’re cute,” is all she really says by way of greeting, taking a sip of her drink. 

[bomboshell]

“ to be fair, mate, you’re not actually that much taller than me, ” he says whilst looking at their reflections in the mirror. “ and if we were as tall as the quality of our chat, i’d be way taller than you. ” @graftisms​ 

[blondcs]

time:   day thirty / afternoon

location:  main villa / pool

featuring:  @graftisms​

jenny drops her towel onto the lounge chair beside dante to claim it, but swings a leg over his chair instead like she’s mounting a horse, planting herself down in front of him, facing the pool. in one fell swoop and all her hair is gathered up over one shoulder and she’s turning back to sneak a peak at him, lips quirked in a smirk. “i need you to get my back,” she explains, handing off the sunscreen.

[blondcs]

location:  day 24 / evening / terrace / post-breakup featuring: jenny & josh

jenny was always going to pull josh, but there’s an element of damage control in the back of her mind, an awareness that she hasn’t come off looking great where he’s concerned. not enough to deter her though, carefully treading the line between desperate and supportive and biding her time in the dressing room, trying to look busy. a fresh coat of lipgloss, a touchup of powder where she’s gotten shiny, all good on deodorant. or does it look like she’s primping for him now? around the others it’s easy to forget the cameras, but the minute she’s alone there’s nothing to distract her from dissecting every little thing. she turns over each interaction, each move, each angle, fixates on appearances and dwells on the tiniest details. she made a career marketing herself, already leans into that mindset, but being here has amplified her self consciousness. she holds out as long as she can—josh deserves privacy, but he doesn’t seem like the sulk in silence type anyway. besides, she’s dying to know where his head’s at. looking both ways, feeling a bit like she’s doing something she shouldn’t, she approaches with a tentative, “knock, knock,” bare feet chilling with her first step onto the terrace. her head tilts, sympathetic eyes seeking his. “you okay?” @graftisms​

[bomboshell]

“ i got a text! ” he props his foot up on one of the weights he placed down on the grass. “ josh, you have been kicked out of the villa for stinking out the toilet. please pack your bags immediately. shit, mate, off you go. ” @graftisms​

[bomboshell]

“ mate, what a madness. how’re you feeling? ” @graftisms​ 

[blondcs]

who: jenny & josh​ where: the hideaway hot tub 

       * jenny can’t help but think this would be so much easier if she hadn’t watched the season at all. even with mental reminders about selective editing and perception versus reality, she’s entering the villa with her own judgments, expectations and, in spite of herself, desperation for approval. she may not know the other islanders but they have some level of celebrity that instantly drives her back to high school and some deep-seated need to be liked by the popular kids. a sip of production-supplied prosecco helps take the edge off as she adjusts the hot-pink triangles of her bikini top, then double checks that her mic pack is still behind her headrest, then tugs some loose hairs down from her messy bun, if only for something to do with her hands. production told her he’d be right in and all but shoved her into the hot tub with nothing but a reminder that they weren’t to turn on the jets or adjust the temperature with some vague explanation she couldn’t focus on. her thoughts were too busy racing over what ifs, though any trace of anxiety disappears when footsteps signal josh’s arrival and he finally steps in looking every bit as handsome in person. thank fucking god. meeting the rest of the cast later may be a nightmare, but this? being alone with a guy in a jacuzzi with free booze wearing nothing but her skimpiest bikini? this would be easy. “just in time. i was about to start the party without you,” she greets, only partially scripted as she hands him a glass and offers a devilish smile as she pats the seat next to her, never dropping his gaze. “i’m jenny.” @graftisms​