mr. gorgeous delicious

Iron Heart

Atelier Versace haute couture fw 97, Christian Dior haute couture ss 98, Jean Paul Gaultier haute couture fw 03, Enfants Riches Déprimés rtw fw 24

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would get so messy. they can’t help themselves! those girls were born to fight over things. been squabbling over boys and toys and boytoys since they were eight years old. and then suddenly; you fall right in their laps. pretty, mysterious wealthy new kid at constance, who’s immediately hot shit. they’re already fighting for the queen bee title, and what’s a head bitch without their side bitch? you become a trophy to be had. petty squabbles—they’re not afraid to play dirty.

oh, you’re blair’s escort for the debauntate? serena will show up and start macking with lonely boy dan and get the place shut down with paparazzi. oh, serena’s taking you out on the town and spoiling you rotten? how does a trip around europe, just you and blair, sound? serena walking past with that disarmingly charming smile in the hallways like she’s not ripping blair’s headband off of you. blair, aghast in your bedroom and tearing up the gifts serena left on your bed. even when s vs b becomes s&b, again. you’re always a point of contention. squished beside them on the bed. nails raking against thigh, seeing how far their hands can wander compared to the other. which one can leave their mark, and where.

even when the dust starts to settle, it follows from constance to adulthood. they’ve long dropped the pretence of fighting over you for something as shallow as their ownership over high-school. no. god, no. it’s ownership over you. you’d think maturity would help the cause, but no, it escalated, briefly. they drive you positively buckwild. rigging your college admissions to their respective schools, netting you this scholarship and that. until it turns out that serena and blair are going to college together anyways. and you’re not. neither of them are quite happy about that. they have to work together to pull you back into their collective grasp and, after they’ve got your name inscribed on their two-person-turned-three-person dorm room, they realise. maybe. maybe, they do have one thing in common. relishing the sight of you, on their (pushed together) beds. splayed out in that nice lingerie set blair bought you, tied up like a present in a little neat bow that serena arranged.