ivy & gold

Wendy Slinkhard. 20 years old and an excitable, rambling, energetic commander of the written word. Work-in-progress novelist (current employee at Rosa Lee Teabag). In addition: Gobstones enthusiast, supporter of Puddlemere United, living in a crowded flat, and presently wondering what your favorite color might be.

[tbelchers]

Kiersey Clemons photographed by Angelo Sgambati

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AU:

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rosalindbungs:

Well, it turns out mum’s engagement with this troupe is in the air. Yeah? Doesn’t quite… isn’t sure where they’ll be going or when she’ll be coming back here, so she’ll be giving up her flat. S’not too inconvenient, since the lease is up, but it’s a bit more flat than I can afford on my own. I know you’ve already got Greta, but I was hoping… dunno. Rent split three ways is more affordable than two. Obviously. And I could be the third cut. Third roommate. What do you think? 

-looking up like :o then :D- Wait — are you serious? Rosalind Bungs, you are making my dreams come true. Really, this entirely makes up for the shit morning. Not only will it be bleeding amazing to have you ‘round all the time, but your presence may even be the thing that keeps me and Greta from ultimately killing each other. It’s the perfect set up. 

You’d probably have to bunk in my room, but that’s not too much of a bother, right? I promise I’m the model flatmate. That and I can’t imagine Greta giving this the okay if her private sanctum is jeopardized.

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AU:

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rosalindbungs:

I’m absolutely up for that. Seems like one of those… you know, warm-up things. Mum’s improv group is always doing that sort of thing — or was, I reckon. Did I tell you she’s joined up with a proper troupe? -grins bashfully, kinda digging the toe of her shoe into the floor under the table- Oh, no. Wends, really. Mean — it’s proper nice of you, just seems like too much, considering the going rate for a bike lock. And, y’know, since my mum’s due to go off with her troupe… -makes the teeth-baring yikes face again- I need to ask you a favor. 

Oh, don’t worry about it. If I can’t afford a couple mimosas and waffles, then that’s proof that my dad truly has cause to worry. And anyway, you can think of it as compensation for years’ worth of similar gifts and favors. -flippin thru the menu n shit, kinda answering distractedly bc whoa hashbrowns???Score- What do you need?

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AU:

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Yes, exactly. Really, I’ve never been surer of anything. Remember the other morning, when I handed you a cuppa a nary second before you asked for it? That was a true melding of the minds, if I’d ever witnessed one. We ought to try that mirroring thing later, see if we can copy each other’s movements without time to think. -laughs tbh !- You’re my absolute favorite person, even if you were once an ax-wielding Medieval executioner. -holds up the lock again with a smile :’) before tucking it away into her own bag- Thank you for the present. Think it’s safe to say today’s meal is on me, this time ‘round. I just deposited my paycheck yesterday and everything; we can brunch like a coupla queens.

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AU:

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rosalindbungs:

You’re joking! Mean, you’re not, clearly, it’s just — look. -pulls a paper bag out of her purse and places it on the table between them- Mum’s been on and on about crime rates and that lately, yeah? So I got to thinking about your bicycle and I saw this in the window across the street — bit’ve a low price point for window display, but — -exhales in that way that makes your lips vibrate, gesturing at the table- It’s a bike lock. Hope it makes up for your less-than-stellar morning. A bit, anyway. 

A bit? -reaches for the bag- This nearly fully makes up for the less-than-stellar morning I’ve had. -opens it up and holds the lock in her hand, looking at it all :’))))- I’m not sure I’ve been this happy and relieved to see anything in the entirety of my short adulthood. It’s essentially fate, when you think on it. Like our brains’re linked somehow. Pretty bleedin’ amazing. I dunno what I’ve done to deserve you — some Wendy in a past-life must’ve been awfully saintlike.

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AU:

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prewettwarrior:

*side smile* I suppose I’ll save my lecture on punctuality for a later date. *sips his coffee* Did you find your keys again or are they now lost to the abyss? Thanks for the warning, I’ll make sure to steer clear.

Probably for the best that you did. M’not necessarily gaggin’ for a lecture on a normal day, so I can pretty much guarantee anything’d go in one ear, out the other, and straight into the gutter. My dad, in particular, can attest to this phenomenon, being the #1 eyewitness for the past twenty-odd years. I’ve been called the anti-sponge; nothing and no reprimand gets soaked up.

The keys have mercifully been tracked down. Greta grabbed them by “mistake” — but I actually made a promise that I’d ease up on the theories about Greta trying to ruin my life, so I’ll leave it there.

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AU:

Sorry I’m late. You’ll not believe the morning I’ve had. Lost my keys, dropped my phone, nearly had my bicycle nicked, and then, of course, it was a bloody nightmare trying to get over here. Fair warning: Leicester Square? Absolute bleedin’ madhouse.

[kierseysource]

kiersey: iPhone shadow dope

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AU:

Sorry I’m late. You’ll not believe the morning I’ve had. Lost my keys, dropped my phone, nearly had my bicycle nicked, and then, of course, it was a bloody nightmare trying to get over here. Fair warning: Leicester Square? Absolute bleedin’ madhouse.

[archirenaux]

The Greeting Committee - Elise

[bhucewayne]

Kiersey Clemons for Modeliste

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Britt Robertson photographed by David Joseph Perez for Nylon Mag.

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