la vie en rose

“Hitting the gym takes effort and effort is something that I lack. Some people lack potassium, I lack effort.” The mini American flag tickled his chin, the fabric making a rough sound against his facial hair that should have been shaved off days ago. “Maybe I should shower in Cheeto dust to add to my award winning smile. That’s clearly all the rage nowadays.” He teased, running where the mini flag had touched. “I wonder what would happen if people tossed the candy back? I mean, this is some cheap shit they’re giving out.” He bent down to pick up a piece of hard candy that had landed right in front of his feet. “I mean the poor bastard is broken into pieces. At least throw some Twizzlers or gummy bears. Go home and soak them alcohol. That’s when the real holiday starts.” 

“Did you ever see that Tumblr post where a whole stampede of people dressed as bananas flood a restaurant and chant ‘potassium’?” Lips split apart with an infectious laugh, Lana pried at the wrapper of the lollipop stowed in the clench of her thumb besides her American flag, letting it flutter off down to the pavement somewhere. “That’s all I think about when I hear the word ‘potassium’.” Slipping the cavity inducer inside her mouth, she swilled the flush tip of her tongue around the vibrant strawberry globe as she studied him pawing through fallen candy like he was searching through corpses in the gruesome aftermath of a battlefield. “Twizzlers?!” Cartoon ‘pop!’ seeing her lolly tugged free again, Lana jut it at him like the stern finger of a scolding professor. “That’s the shittiest idea I’ve ever heard. Who even likes Twizzlers? That’s like leaving a tub of Marmite under a Christmas tree. Barbaric.”

Caleb had no idea how he’d been convinced to come out tonight. The sun was still up and everyone seemed to be out on the sidewalk, going in different directions to their choice events, dressed clad in clothes that showed off almost everything they had, simply because there was no choice. It was hot and Caleb was forced to dress in a striped muscle shirt and shorts, showing off more than a few scars, simply to not overheat. “Fucking hell, Lana,” he said as he whipped open his door. “We can watch fireworks from the comfort of our own home, you know,” he said. He wouldn’t dare admit that his anxiety came from a place of noise, that fire in the sky wasn’t exactly something he found entertaining, but more like horrifying. “You lead the way.” @lanajvmeson

“Don’t be such a big old spoil sport,” Lana sighed theatrically, elbows hoisted mid air as she fussed over auburn locks to try and scrabble them together into a messy bun, the sun scorching a merciless watch over the thighs peeking out beneath a pleated skirt all the while. “You have to get into the spirit. You know, sometimes it feels like I’m related to that guy. That... one,” she clarified as if it made it any more clear, still fiddling with a silken strand as she clamped a hairpin between her teeth for safekeeping. “Monster House! That’s such a good movie. Anyways, him. The old man, shaking his fist, screaming for kids to get off his lawn.” Finally free from a voice reduced to an incoherent mumble around a metal accessory, Lana pushed the last pin in place and spun around to face him, taking steps backwards that more closely resembled skips. “Besides. Being cooped up all alone isn’t healthy.” Reaching a hand out, she snatched excitedly at the crook of his elbow, pulling him closer to walk alongside her as she leaned against him like an MI5 agent inconspicuously pausing to address a royal. “If you see a guy with a shaved head and a, like, tattoo-type-thing on his right hand, let me know. No big deal or anything. A friend.” Flashing him a nonchalant grin, she straightened again and started towards the heart of the festivities.

For some odd reason, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was just a fluke but Finn was feeling festive. The brunette felt nostalgic, sitting on the curb watching the annual Fourth of July parade. Floats, little children with sparklers, and candy being tossed into the air like a much needed hail storm. Waving back at the floats, excited like a small child. “I wonder what it would take to be the poster boy for a float next year?” 

Stars as white as January frost painted along her cheekbone and lips set alight with strawberry orchard red, Lana looked a vision of patriotism. Ironic, really, given the fact that she’d rather defend the honour of a lazy eyed goldfish than any of America’s history. “Totally got to hit the gym. Dwayne Johnson sets a high bar. I feel like aspiring to be The Rock is the safest bet to get yourself up there.” Stick of a mini American flag clasped in hand, Lana’s eyes lit up with mischief as she tickled the fabric end of it beneath his chin, mouth tweaked up at the corners with a playful smile. “Either that or crack a dentist billboard-worthy grin. Man, maybe they’ll scout you. Look alive, Finnegan. Flash your teeth like you’re a politician that just told an ugly lie.”

finn: simon cowell voice: it's a no from me

finn: my roommates wouldn't appreciate me and my dick being out for entertainment

finn: right in the living room n shit

lana: wow simon u look so different tday... much less chest hair

lana: see my, frankie n dakota's house is sm more liberal u should rly consider moving

finn: dicks? out? oh lana, pls do not get arrested for indecent exposure

lana: so by tht question mark im takin it that ur dick definitely isn't out... idk hw to feel abt this

finn: ....how did u know?

Lana’s outburst actually startled Teddy ever so slightly. He hadn’t expected her to react in such a shocked way - if anything he’d expected her to join him, so when her hand was practically thrown across his mouth haphazardly, he couldn’t help but smirk up at her, amused. Blinking up at her in faux innocence, he parted his lips minimally so that he could gently nip on one of the fingers across his lips, jerking his head back after to pointedly shift her hand away. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, voice taking on a melodic tone. Standing slightly onto his tip toes so that they were around the same height, his eyes shifted all over Lana’s face, the shit-eating grin on his face permanent. He was beyond amused at the moment. “Well why can’t I? Jesus, Lana, when’d you get so stingy, huh? Most people would be happy to hear such things.” Obviously he was boasting on purpose. To piss her off. One of his favourite things to do. He’d never say this out loud - mostly because Lana would probably go on and never let him live it down - but she was adorable when she got all worked up. “Does it? Can you do better then? I dare you to show me.” Teddy was still standing somewhat in between the other’s legs, the position going unnoticed until he could feel her legs pressing into his sides slightly. At the reminder, he stepped closer towards her, forcing her legs to spread slightly and placed a hand on her thigh, the other coming up to tug at a stray strand of hair that was hanging in front of her face. “How’d you know I have a thing for having spaghetti thrown at me? God, Lana, you’re really getting me all hot and bothered right now, y’know.” He snickered, biting his lip as he continued to glance over her face, just wanting to know what was going on in her mind, “Wanna come over anyway?”

“I’m totally not blushing. It’s just, like, a rash. An allergic reaction to ugly little men,” Lana attempted to comment in all sincerity, corners of her lips twitching with the urge to break into an infectious grin the longer she held onto composure. “Maybe I’m a vicious dictator with no mercy. Ever think about that, Teddy? No. You only think about yourself.” Wetting her lips subconsciously once more, the damp of her tongue left them looking like a renaissance painting of a strawberry orchard left out for too long in the scorching midday sun, ruby stain clinging there reduced to a faded and dusty rose. Anyone passing by would probably be under the impression that she’d merely kissed them swollen to get them that way. “The only time I moan is when I’m feeling spiritual, Teddy.” Pupils blown wide as they flit between his, Lana hitched her eyebrows subtly, face painted with all the cartoon curiosity of a prairie girl too naive not to spot a villain right beneath her nose. Innocence, to Lana, was like a stage costume and if it wasn’t clear enough by now, she saw the entire world as the place to act out a starring role. “It’s a really cleansing feeling, don’t you think? Kneeling on a hard church floor,” she started, tips of her fingers straying so they could absently trace along the inside of his wrist as it lingered above her thigh, “putting your hands together like Virgin Mary.” Adding it after a small pause, she dragged his hand ever so slightly higher up her leg, corner of her mouth tweaking with a wry smile as his knuckles unsettled her skirt’s airy fabric. “Like this.” Clasping her palms theatrically together in front of her, a stream of light peeked around the corner of a building across the way and dappled affectionately over the swatch of starlight silver glittering her cheekbone -- she and Frankie had been far too liberal with a pot of the stuff back at home earlier. Lids slipping shut like she was absorbed in the moment, they were soon fluttering open again for her stare to burn on his, tongue skimming slowly up the closest two sides of her index fingers before she cracked a fiendish grin and abandoned the act entirely. “Hallelujah. I always feel way closer to god when I’m pretending to blow him.” Tension between them thicker than a five plank stack of wood, Lana sliced casually through it with a butcher’s knife by letting her lips brush up by his ear. “If you haven’t got your hand up my skirt by the time the title credits are playing, I’ll be totally disappointed.”

finn: hmm. that's a tough one