hit me, baby, one more time!

[ohdelighted]

PROMPT POST!

I'm feeling really creatively lacking, but I'm itching to write something-- so please, please, please give me some requests!

Just include the following:
fandom
characters/ship
a prompt of your choosing (sentence, word, whatever you want!)
AND a "soundtrack" song (upload please!) if you want

Comments

[ohdelighted]

For what it's worth, the floor-to-ceiling windows that filter in the natural light of the sunrise and the natural darkness of midnight weren't her idea. She usually has the curtains draped over them, a thick sort of muslin material with random designs swirling to keep it from being too boring, because she prefers the muted warmth of sunlight through fabric to its blinding, au naturel counterpart. She usually keeps a chandelier on the ceiling; the light bounces off the prisms and Jenny finds that if she can stop a moment to smile at the rainbows that form, she stays sane a little while longer.

For what it's worth, she never liked the idea of having to listen to door chimes and security buzzing from her fourteenth floor apartment. Too jaded by city life, she's long ago been living in the wide-open expanses of the Montana sprawl, wildflower and honeysuckle growing on her porch while vines crawl along the stand of her weather-beaten hammock. She flies into the city for a few days at a time, a week at most, curled up in her old room in Brooklyn that she's kept mostly to prevent her from having to furnish another one. She won't stay long, and the visits are infrequent; Jenny only comes when she has to. More often than not, her models are brought out to her-- coltish young things with long legs and a healthy appetite not only for fashion but, surprisingly, for food. She won't hire size zeros, won't tolerate unnatural diets or weights, and routinely screens her models for the very flaws that had been her own destruction back in the day. She's made a name for herself for natural rebellion, a sort of rebellion that flies in the face of the cutthroat world she's torn herself away from.

She's made a name for herself of being not the girl she used to be. Which is why, when she agrees to allow a Blair Waldorf look-a-like to star in her fall line, she doesn't fall head over heels when the photographer her agent sends is a not-young-anymore Nate Archibald. He's older, grayer, a bit worn for wear. He's lost that spark in his eye, that something that used to draw her to him. Instead, he's wiser, smarter, less brash.

When he kisses her behind the curtain, just before she goes on, she knows she's supposed to fall into his arms. She knows this is the moment she's (supposed to have been) waiting for.

She also knows it's not the moment she wants, so instead of falling into his arms, she takes his camera. She takes his camera and walks on stage, down that runway, and it's then that she smiles. She smiles because things have finally come full circle.

[wow, this was way more depressing than it should have been. idek, sorry.]

[overstreets]

Awww, depressing but YOU GO JENNY <3