la vie en rose

↳ INSTAGRAM: @LANA_JAMESON WAS TAGGED IN A POST BY @ALDANABRETT

This probably sounds obnoxious but sometimes I can’t believe how fucking good my life is. Left practice to get this out of the blue. #Blessed #FuckLilWeezy #LilPimpy #Aldana? more like #Pimpdana

❤ 498 ✐ 17 COMMENTS

aj: thanks i think

aj: yeah well it bothered me, people shouldnt say shit like that, he probably just misses you or something idk people fucking suck

aj: and zakir, he's a dick

aj: idk let me know if you like, want me to do something

lana: u think correct!!!

lana: [...]

lana: u mean like u want to hang out or something???

lana: OH

lana: IGNORE THAT I MISRESD WHAT YOUNSADI for gof sake

Eden: just saw twitter

Eden: forget that guy Lana he's just mad cause he's like a full head shorter than you are

Eden: guys like that overcompensate by being dicks

Eden: like a chihuahua

Eden: if it makes you feel better i got slutshamed via anonymous message

Eden: we can open a bakery and call it whores and hoho's

Lana: GOD!!!!!!!!

Lana: i'm so mad i rly wanted to fuck him 2 n now i jst feel like a whore

Lana: whatever it's fine u know what the solution is????

Lana: Riding. That. Peen.

Lana: as in... a different peen not his. i've declared his Stinky and forbidden

Lana: or not forbidden bc calling stuff forbidden always just mkes me want it more. sighs loudly

@zakiramiri: @lana_jameson ur not a whore i was just jokin i'd be dtf you're super hot :)

aj: god no do i look like an adam to you? jfc

aj: well he seems like a dick so

aj: don't let it get to u or whatever

lana: wtf!!! adam is one of my favorite names. u'd suit it, that's all

lana: [...]

lana: it's cool!!! it's just words n stuff it doesn't rly matter what ppl say 2 me

aj: lmao - it's aidan. don't like it

aj: you ask a lot of questions

aj: it was probably the glasses, though, or the clothes. maybe both

aj: [...]

aj: did someone really send you tht david bowie text

lana: AIDAN!!!!! wtf i bet frankie it was adam thanks a lot u just lost me a hot dog

lana: me, poising a mic in front of ur lips with baited breath, licking the nib of my pen as i prop it to my journalist jotter: oh, worm?

lana: oh

@lana_jameson: @desmondbarr it was a GIRL dnt b so heteronormative deszel washington.

“Oh? You’re sick, then?” Thumb and index pressing against the tobacco stained end of the cigarette hard enough to alter the formerly cylindrical shape of it, A.J. took a final drag before sending it to an early grave under the heel of his boot. “If you don’t want it, I’ll finish it,” he offered after a beat, easily brushing off her last comment. The beginnings of a smirk threatened to tweak the corners of his lips upward as he studied her, fingers now involuntarily twitching in the absence of something to twirl between them. She was pretty – not a classic pretty but a kind of pretty that was slightly off kilter. A sunset was nice until you were left sitting in the dark with nothing but a sky full of stars, wondering which you were really waiting for: the day to come to a close in a wash of orange and red or the night to creep in and blacken the picture at the edges. That’s how it felt looking at her – or, at least, how it felt now, sitting under the wash of the flickering lights of the theatre that cast shadows that sat in the hollows of both of their faces. “Right,” he agreed to nothing in particular, realizing a second too late he’d been staring. A limp shrug at nothing had him lightly snatching the cigarette from her fingers and placing it between his lips. “Look, it’s not like smoking a joint,” he mumbled around it, pulling in a quick breath that would have given anyone else the start of a nicotine buzz. “Don’t… like, pull in a lot.” Blowing out a thin ribbon of smoke in the opposite direction, he held it back out to her, flipping it around so she could take a drag while it sat snugly between his two fingers. “Try it.”

True to his word, Teddy sat comfortably on his bed, Dr. Pepper in one hand and Kit Kat bar now forgotten on the blanket beside him. He stared dully at his computer as a somewhat blank word document blinked back at him, the assignment he was planning on causing him more than a bit of trouble. However, in a few more moments, the issue was completely forgotten as Teddy physically felt his heart leap into his throat, the sound of Lana slamming the door then practically shouting from the rooftops causing him to jump ten feet in the air. “Good, god,” he wheezed, dramatically clutching at his chest. “Lana, are you trying to kill me?” Finally really taking her in, Teddy’s eyes narrowed, an amused grin on his face as he raised a suspicious eyebrow, past anger he (hardly) felt gone. “I like your cape,” Teddy teased right before the moment she decided to drop the blanket. Eyes widening as he stared at the outfit she had on underneath, the grin on his face spread further across his features, finally meeting her eyes after several moments, “Lana, you look absolutely lovely. Now I know you’re trying to kill me.” He said with a sigh, pointing to the mini fridge beside his bed, “Dr. Pepper’s in there, but you gotta gimme a twirl or something first. Walk the runway. You gotta model the new outfit for me!”

Framing her face with her fingers beneath her chin like an easel propping up a canvas, Lana fluttered her lashes for theatrical emphasis with an additional fan at her cheeks before dropping the act and flashing him a grin. “Really? I don’t know... I mean, I always used to, like, sew all my own costumes for ballet and shit so I guess I’m okay at that stuff,” she thought aloud, self consciously fiddling with one of the leaves winding its way down towards her hip. It was no secret that Lana had always been a child her parents would have rather forgotten about, that much being obvious in the fact that while all the other mothers at her dance classes would dote and fawn over tulle and sequins until their daughters came out perfect, Lana had to practically scorch her eyes out of her skull with a bright bulb and a late night session of frantic designing at only twelve years old. It was a wonder her instructor had never asked why her fingers always had so many nicks on them from clumsy slips of the needle as she taught herself how to stitch. “God, I kind of regret throwing off my cape. I can feel the pneumonia hunching in the pits of my soul like an evil old man.” Starting with a skipping step towards his mini fridge, Lana shot him a playful scowl as she sank easily down to her knees to rummage inside it. “Get out, Miranda Priestley. I already did a regal circuit, you were just too busy going into cardiac arrest at the slightest glimpse of a nip.” Plucking out a bottle, she cracked the cap and hopped up so she could crawl into bed besides him like a cat seeking out the warmest spot to nestle down and nap in. “Anyway, what’s new? The 411. The hot goss! I feel like a salted slug. I’m totally out of the loop and, frankly? It’s disgusting.”