Seven’s Strawberry Field

Meet 𝓑𝓘𝓜𝓑𝓞!𝑅𝐸𝒜𝒟𝐸𝑅 always dressed head to toe in Juicy Couture, her tits are always practically spilling from her rhinestone-studded tops, and her ass glitters with Juicy spelled out across the back. You’ll hear her before you see her: the clank of charms on her oversized purse, the snap of her bedazzled Nokia, and the sugary waft of her Victoria’s Secret body spray trailing behind her. If you were to ask her who her biggest heroes were, she would say Paris Hilton and Pamela Anderson, even carrying a thong in her purse for the signature updo just like her.

She’s got a glittering belly button piercing that peeks out every time her cropped tracksuit hoodie rides up, a tiny jeweled stud in her eyebrow catching the mall lights, and a shiny lip ring that glints when she pops her bubblegum. Her nails are always manicured into perfect French-tipped duck nails, click-clacking along her pink sidekick keyboard, updating her Myspace top 8 depending on who pissed her off that day. Her MySpace is blinding with glitter GIFs, "xoxo," and Playboy graphics, along with mirror selfies taken with her digital camera. lip gloss always shimmering so much it could be a mirror, she sips on her iced lattes through straws stained with glittery residue. Her hair is always perfect, often adorned with glittery butterfly clips or a blinged-out headband.

Her car smells like a sugar cookie Bath & Body Works explosion, with fuzzy dice dangling from the mirror and a peeling “Hot Girl” bumper sticker. At home, her room is plastered in Teen Vogue clippings, Paris Hilton perfume ads, and posters of boy bands with a lava lamp bubbling in the corner.

People love to call her dumb and ditzy, but she's not. She leans into her bimbo act because it gets her attention, because it's fun, because being the prettiest and the loudest means she always wins. If attention were a currency, she would be rich, her pretty privileges getting her far in life.

She was leaning over the glass cases in Spencer’s, eyeing a new Playboy bunny belly ring, when a sudden collision knocked her off balance. Pink Victoria’s Secret bags tumbled from her arms, their glossy contents spilling across the tile in a blur of lace and perfume. Annoyance flared instantly, but when she turned, ready to snap, her breath caught instead. Towering over her was a very apologetic, very pierced, very hot emo boy — eyeliner smudged, chains clinking, piercings glinting under the fluorescent lights... whose name is apparently Sam

Divider credits: @leilakittya

Layout heavily inspired by: @deansbeer (please go check her out, she's amazing!!)

special thanks to @ultravi0lence14 for the encouragement (check her out too!!)

Taglist: @reneareads @rileywrites07 @kahory17 @kaylynsworld146

All images from Pinterest!

Meet 𝓔𝓜𝓞!𝒮𝒜𝑀 always dressed in skinny jeans, band tees, and hoodies layered over each other, with more belts than one person could ever logically need strapped around his waist. His hair is perfectly just too long, always falling into his eyes unless he takes his time hairspraying it in place and teasing it endlessly. Sam isn't really emo, just a golden retriever trapped in a brooding emo's body, soft smiles and awkward humor dressed up in eyeliner and angst. If you were to ask him who his heroes were, he would say his big brother Dean and Gerard Way

When he shakes his hair out of his eyes, you can sometimes see the glint of the silver ring pierced through his brow. Another piercing shines at the right side of his lips, and when he laughs hard enough (or gives head), you can see the flash of a metal ball in the center of his tongue. Focused moments always mean his tongue sneaks out to spin the lip ring idly. He paints his nails black, but they end up chipped, not even an hour later, from his nervous habit of picking them off. His eyeliner has practically become a birthmark, staining his waterline so deeply that it lingers on his skin even after a full scrub with makeup wipes.

Sam's Myspace is basic and simple. all black with red and white skull graphics, no flashy HTML glitter, no sparkles — just three mirror pics showing off his piercings, a couple messy blurbs

His room is plastered in Band posters on the walls, piles of hoodies draped over every surface, half-read books stacked on the floor, and his electric guitar mounted proudly on display. The whole place smells like cologne, coffee, and faint smoke. His pillows are stained with smudges of black eyeliner.

People assume he's moody and unapproachable – the height, the piercings, and the all-black uniform don't exactly scream 'friendly.' But the truth is, Sam's one of the most approachable guys you'll ever meet. He's just awkward in that endearing way, sarcastic with his humor, and at heart, nothing more than a golden retriever wrapped in an emo exterior.

He scans the t-shirt collection in Spencer's, grabbing a few more tees before walking to the register. On his way to the register, he gets distracted by something, but continues to walk with his head turned. His attention is suddenly yanked back when he bumps into something much smaller and plusher than a display case. When he looks down, he sees pink bags spilling across the mall floor in a flurry of lace and perfume. Dropping to help, chains clinking, he looked up just as she did, rhinestones catching the fluorescent lights, lip gloss gleaming. His own piercings glinted in return, eyeliner smudged beneath his eyes. Both were rendered speechless by the other until Sam awkwardly introduced himself

Divider credits: @leilakittya

Layout heavily inspired by: @deansbeer (please go check her out, she's amazing!!)

special thanks to @ultravi0lence14 for the encouragement (check her out too!!)

Taglist: @reneareads @rileywrites07 @kahory17 @kaylynsworld146

All images from Pinterest!