oversize denim jacket

Read this if you were at Dodie's London show on the 18th

Hello! I’m really hoping I can find this beautiful girl I saw at the concert? If you are reading this and did go to Dodie’s o2 Islington concert in London did you look like this?
-A bright red duffle coat
-Hoop earrings
-Incredibly long eyelashes with just mascara, not eyeliner??
-Do you also have a bob cut (maybe just below your jawline?) which is light-dark brown and wavy?
Also I think that you were with a friend and an adult (parent?)
If you maybe are that beautiful human, I was the girl a short way ahead of you in the queue with a straight bob cut and wearing a dark denim jacket, with the sleeves rolled up, and a faded blue a white thinly striped scarf, light blue jeans, that were rolled slightly at the bottom, and black and pink Nike trainers. I was with a friend with auburn-ish hair and she wore an oversized denim jacket and a Troye Sivan “Fireproof” sweater with ripped black jeans. She had dark eye makeup and crimped hair. We were with her dad who is bald and very tall he was wearing a black hoodie. I also kept turning around and looking at you because you were literally so beautiful I couldn’t help it and you also saw me look at you like more than twice :D
If you do vaguely remember me then text me because I regret not talking to you because I am a small bundle of social anxiety :))

((Also if you are not this girl, would you mind sharing because I would really like to make contact with her as I’m lowkey in love with her?? )) xx

Hatred (Wonho X Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request: “Hello! could i request a smut where you and wonho hate each other? – anon”
Fandom: Monsta X
Member/reader: Wonho x Reader
Genre/warning(s):  smut, humiliation, strong language, dom!Wonho (VERY DOM), choking, scratching, blood, ok let’s just say extremely hardcore sex so it’ll be easier??? (trigger warning) 
Words: 4k (not even sorry)
Authors note: Just a heads up, this is really rough. I’m hella proud of this and I hope you enjoy this. I adore writing Wonho smut BUT I ALSO WANNA WRITE FLUFF BECAUSE HE DESERVES ALL THE LOVE. But yes, this is hella intense so like just a warning so you won’t die? Or get offended. Basically rough sex, nowhere near vanilla so if that’s what you’re expecting this is exactly NOT it. I’m not even sorry at how dirty this is.

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Being a hypochondriac with an ADHD ridden homeless kid sleeping in your basement can do some serious damage, as Eddie Kaspbrak was about to find out.

CH 1 - CH2 - CH3 - CH4 - CH5 - CH6 - CH7 coming soon…

Chapter One - The Gas Station

It was like he was actually there, feeling the soft, cold water wash over his feet and up around his ankles, splashing at where he had turned up the bottom of his jeans. The water was good, he thought, as he opened his eyes and looked out at the ocean.

The thing that never stopped.

He took in the completely empty beach, and wondered why he was the only one there. Maybe because it was high tide, he thought to himself, and glanced over his shoulder at the pier behind him. He didn’t know where he was in the world, it didn’t look familiar. Maybe he wasn’t even in America. England? Spain, perhaps? He wasn’t too sure, but that didn’t matter.

He turned back to the sea and closed his eyes and held out his arms. He stretched, feeling his muscles sigh in relief and his entire body relax as the salty air enveloped him completely. He breathed in, the smell of the ocean; allowing it to fill him up and make him feel like he was floating. This was beautiful, Richie thought, this was heaven. This was life. This was-

“Tozier, wake up!” Richie blinked and groaned, turning in his seat to come face to face with Wes Ryder. He grimaced. The kid hadn’t been blessed with good lucks unfortunately; eyes too big for his face and an underbite that made him constantly looked pissed off.

Somewhere from the back of the bus, Richie could hear shouting and shoving, meaning the other boys were awake too. Scott and Max, the idiots of their little group, were always arguing, or ‘debating’ as Max called it. Richie once saw Scott knock Max’s front tooth out because he stole a few slice of his pizza. That wasn’t debating, that was unnerving.

“Come on. Shake a leg.” Wes said, standing from where he had been crouched down beside Richie, and taking back his usual spot behind the wheel of the van. Richie grunted and sat up straight in his seat, squinting out through the window and into the warm afternoon outside. The sun had only just begun to set, and the world was covered in hues of orange and yellow, and Richie felt like he was the farthest he could possibly be from a beach.

“Where are we going?” Richie asked, as Wes spat out of the window.

“Pit stop. Need gas and supplies.” Wes said bluntly, not that there was anything unusual about that. Wes just didn’t care if he sounded rude, he never had. The first time Richie ever met him was the rudest encounter he had with him, yet here he was, four months later, still following him around like a stray. “You get the food.”

“Can’t they get it?” Richie asked tiredly, pointing to the back of the bus where the other two were still trying to kill one another. “I got food last time-”

“The last time those knuckle heads tried to get us food, we were nearly shot.” Wes pointed out. He turned around in his seat and glared at Richie harshly. “Do as I say, alright Rich?”

“Jolly good, your highness! I shall do as you so desire.” Richie joked, putting on that god awful British accent he knew pissed Wes off to no end, and unbuckled himself from the seat before throwing open the side door to the van. He heard Wes mutter something under his breath, probably about his smart ass mouth, but he ignored it, and slammed the door shut.

It wasn’t cold outside, it was mid August, yet Richie still stuffed his shaking hands into the pockets of his oversized denim jacket; the one he had stolen 3 years ago from some uptight shop in some deadbeat town, that was now littered with holes and had loose threads hanging off every edge. It was the one thing he kept, that and his old, navy baseball cap, that was stuffed in his back pocket.

Some things never changed.

The gas station was tiny, it was in the middle of nowhere however, so Richie was just glad to finally see a fresh face; even if said fresh face was a pimply teenage boy who looked like he’d smoked his body weight in weed. Richie modded at him, not getting even a blink in return, and casually strolled down each isle, scanning the shelves filled with chips, chocolate bars, candy and drinks. Nothing immediately caught his eye, but then he realised something.

He was broke. He was homeless. He literally couldn’t afford to be picky.

So he grabbed the largest bag of chips he could, along with six candy bars and a small bag of sour sweets, and stuffed them under his jacket. The teenager behind the counter was looking down at something, and Richie assumed it was his phone, so he quickly wandered to the drinks shelf and grabbed a handful of cokes before turning to pick up another bag of chips, just to push himself, before he heard the roar of an engine. His head snapped round to see the van pulling out of the gas station.

“Hey!” He yelled, and clutched the food to his chest before sprinting out of the store, the alarm screaming out the second he passed through the sliding door. The teenager nearly jumped out of his skin, and dropped his phone onto the floor in the process, only just catching the top of Richie’s black, curly hair running past the window.

“Wes!” Richie screamed, waving his free arm holding the drinks and ignoring that they crashed to the ground at his feet. “Wes!” The van was already half way back down the road by the time Richie sprinted past the gas station, and he stopped, out of breath, and watched the van hurtle off into the distance, taking everything he had, and the people he once considered his friends, with it. Richie stood there for a long time, before he dropped everything he was carrying, grabbed a rock off the ground and hurled it at the van, knowing that it wouldn’t even come close to hitting it.

“BASTARDS!” He screamed, throwing his arms up in frustration and pulling at his hair. “Fuck!” He swore, turning around as some cars whizzed past him, staring at the grubby looking teenager on the side of the road surrounded by food. Richie tried to steady his breathing, but then he started hearing the alarm going off at the gas station, and he spun around. The teenager had run outside and was looking down the opposite end of the road, searching for him, before turning his head in Richie’s direction and freezing.

“Hey, you!” He shouted, his voice distant as a strong breeze rolled in. “Get the fuck back here!” Richie’s eyes widened, and he started clawing at the food and bottles of coke that he had dropped, stuffing them under his jacket and bolting across the road as a the teenager made a beeline for him. Richie heard the car horns coming from both directions but he sprinted across the road anyway, not looking in any direction but forward, wanting to head into the forest and out of sight before he got arrested.

He couldn’t have that happen again.

Richie hopped off the metal barrier that ran all the way across the highway, and stumbled into the cluster of trees at the edge of the forest. He could hear the cashier not too far behind him, so he picked up the pace as best he could, ignoring his burning lungs and shaking legs. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest by the time he finally found a large enough tree trunk to hide behind, pressing his back up against the bark and squeezing his eyes shut. He heard the cashier somewhere in the distance pause, as if trying to hear Richie’s footsteps again. There were a few muffled curse words, before the defeated, heavy footsteps went back in the direction they had come, leaving Richie to let out a long sigh of relief.

In the long minutes he had to himself before he heard the kids playing, he thought about the reality of him being abandoned, again. He kicked a stone across the forest floor in frustration and hung his head. Why did Wes leave? Surely he hadn’t been that annoying? Compared to the other people he had hitchhiked with, he had been pretty well behaved. Well behaved for Richie Tozier at least. Richie wondered why they had only just now decided to leave him, forcing him to get food before driving off. At least they allowed him to get food before they fucked off; maybe Wesley did have a heart after all. Then Richie contemplated the idea that maybe they told him to get food at that gas station purposefully, maybe they wanted him to get arrested. Richie scowled. Fuck heads, he thought, and then his ears perked up at the sound of far off laughter. He paused, not quite sure if he actually heard anything, before he heard it again. Kids, laughing. That was something he hadn’t heard in a long time.

Richie kept his food and drinks close, stepping over twigs and leaves and branches on the forest floor as he followed the sound. It didn’t take long, surprisingly, before he came to the edge of a steep hill overlooking a long river that went under a bridge, past a sewer drain, and off through a small town. Richie frowned. He hadn’t expected to find anything this close to the highway, but there it was, a whole town. Footsteps and voices made him duck down behind a bush, and he noticed some figures moving about near the sewer drain.

He hid his belongings under some leaves before creeping round towards the bridge, wanting to get a better look, and leaned against one of the wooden posts and peeking through the slats in the bridge. He saw a group of kids around his age wandering towards a smaller clearing near the sewer, dragging their bikes with them. There were five boys, all of different sizes, and one girl with fiery red hair that was a similar length to Richie’s. He blinked in amazement as he watched them crack jokes and laugh together, wondering what that was like; to actually be a kid.

Their voices started to become clearer as they got closer and closer to Richie’s hiding spot, and he crouched down lower as they all rested their bikes near the sewer and moved over to a pile of rocks that had been placed next to the river. It looked like a dam, a very small, unconstructed one, but a dam none the less, and he watched them all started to pick rocks up and place them alongside each other in the river. Richie felt himself smile slightly at the sight. They were so carefree down there, it seemed almost foreign to him.

He took in each of the kids appearances, staring at the girl first. She was pretty, really pretty, and he could see the sparkle in her bright blue eyes even from this far away. She was wearing a maroon blouse and some brown overalls, some worn out white sneakers on her feet that were now being covered over by water in the river. She was standing next to a short, chubby boy, who was looking at her with a huge grin on his face as they chatted. He had dirty blonde hair and rosy cheeks, and he was already half soaked from the river just by standing ankle deep in it. Every time he took a step he made the water splash up around his thighs and waist, coating him. Richie chuckled.

There were two tall, skinny boys standing side by side on the river bank, handing rocks over to the boy and the girl respectively, both wearing brown, khaki shorts and red sneakers. One, the tallest out of the two, had short curly hair and was wearing a smart, white polo shirt with buttons done up to the top. He had a small notebook sticking out his back pocket and a small smile on his face. The other wore a long, red checked shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and Richie could just make out a stutter from his voice as he spoke loudly to the others.

“M-mo-move that rock over there, no, not that one Mike, this one.” He pointed to a tall boy with dark skin and dark eyes, who nodded and did as he was told, chucking the rock he had over his shoulder without a care in the world, causing a large splash.

“What the fuck, Mike?” A squeaky voice called out from behind him. Mike, Richie now knew him as, turned and shifted his body slightly, giving Richie a chance to see the sixth member of their little group. He was the shortest of the bunch, wearing tiny red running shorts and a bright yellow shirt that made Richie’s eyes hurt. He had a black fanny pack strapped to his right hip and a scowl on his little, tanned face that made Richie snort. He glared at the others as they laughed at him, seeing as he was now nearly covered head to toe in water, but eventually the kid moved away from the others and onto the river bank, perching on a rock and shaking out his no longer neatly styled hair.

“Cute.” Richie muttered to himself, before deciding to leave the kids alone, not wanting to watch them do the same thing, building this stupid dam, forever. He took a step back, only to accidentally snap a twig in the process, and he instantly threw himself to the ground as he noticed the girl raise her head in his direction.

On the ground, Beverly Marsh frowned, staring up at the bridge in confusion.

“Bev? You okay?” Ben asked, noticing her stop building first out of everyone, just like always. Beverly didn’t reply at first, she just kept staring. She could have sworn she saw something move up there, just between the slats, but she couldn’t be sure. It looked like hair, dark hair, and it had moved past the side of the bridge before she could get a proper look. She squinted her eyes and stepped forward, wanting to get a closer look. “Bev?”

Ben’s voice brought her back to reality, and she blinked at him.

“Sorry, thought I saw something.” She said, smiling at him. He instantly smiled back.

“Maybe it was a bird.” Stan suggested. “There’s lots of black birds and sparrows out at the moment.”

“Could be Bowers.” Eddie suggested from where he was sat on his rock, and he nervously glanced at the bridge too. “He’s always lurking round the kissing bridge.”

“Creeps, the lot of them.” Beverly said in disgust, thinking about all the times she had been cornered by Henry and Patrick and Belch, feeling their hands on her arms and poking her sides, their hot, smelly breath wafting over her face. She shuddered, then went back to work, helping Ben place a few smaller rocks together to create a barrier for the bigger ones.

“I-It’s fine.” Bill said to the others. “If it is t-th-th-them, we’ll r-run.”

Eddie glanced up at the bridge again, before he noticed something dark near the side. It looked like…hair?

“Guys!” He yelled, jumping from the rock and pointing at the bridge. They all turned to where he was looking, and tried to see what Eddie had seen. “I saw something too! There’s someone up there!”

“Anyone we know?” Mike asked, walking over to Eddie and wiping his hands on his pants.

“I, I don’t know. They had black hair.”

“That narrows it down then.” Stan said sarcastically and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Probably just someone walking by, who cares?” Ben said, wishing everyone could just get back to building the dam instead of getting distracted, like they always did.

“I’m gonna go check.” Bev said, setting her pile of rocks down and walking towards Eddie who was sat near the hill leading up to the bridge. He gawked at her in shock, and grabbed her arm.

“Are you seriously going to check?” He asked, baffled. Bev raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the big deal?” She asked. “I’m just curious.”

“But what if it is Henry Bowers?” Stan said, stepping forward.

“Does Henry have black, curly hair?” Bev challenged, looking at all of them individually. No one said anything. “That’s what I thought.” She said, and started climbing. Bill glanced at the others and shrugged, and eventually they were all following her up the hill towards the bridge.

“This is so stupid.” Stan muttered to himself, staying as far behind as he could incase of an attack. Bev, with Bill and Eddie right behind her, made her way up towards the left side of the bridge and creeped round the corner slowly, making sure they weren’t about to get jumped. Bev frowned when she got to the top, leaning round a tree only to see…nothing.

“See, told you it was just someone walking by.” Ben said, folding his arms over his chest. Bev sighed.

“I saw someone.” She whispered to herself, and looked around the clearing. Still nothing. Eddie shuffled his feet about nervously, before jumping as he felt his foot graze something smooth. He looked down only to see a coke can lying on the ground.

“Great, now people are littering. As if Derry couldn’t get anymore gross.” He said in disgust. Bill knocked the can with his foot then frowned as he realised it hadn’t even been opened. He reached down, picking it up, and examined it. “Are you serious?” Eddie exclaimed. “Do you know how dirty that is? It’s lying on a dirt track!”

“It’s brand new, it’s not even dirty. Look.” Bill turned the can over in his hands, and even the others had to admit it was weird for a fresh can of coke to just be abandoned by the side of the road.

“Maybe the person that came by dropped it?” Mike suggested, and the others couldn’t come up with anything else that would explain it.

“Can we go back now? This is pointless.” Stan asked, leaning against the post of the bridge. Bill put the can back on the ground, wishing there was a bin he could throw it in nearby, and nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” He then turned to Bev. “Sorry, I thought maybe we’d find something too.” Bev smiled kindly at him. At least Bill had her back.

“Well, I’m glad we didn’t.” Eddie said, straightening up and following Stan back down the hill. “Don’t need anymore kids running around Derry, it’s overpopulated as it is.”

As they slowly made their way back to the dam, the kids failed to notice a bush on the other side of the road rustle. Richie peeked his head out from the side of it, and stared as they kids slowly disappeared from his view, before sighing in relief yet again.

“Keep it together, Rich.” He muttered. “Jheez.” Once the kids were back at the dam, he ran back to where he had hidden his snacks, and scooped them into his arms before disappearing off into the trees again, not wanting to be seen.

He walked around for a while near the edge of the forest that connected to the river, not wanting to stray too far from the town just yet, before finally setting on a large oak tree that had branches close enough to the ground for him to climb. He put his things to the ground and shrugged off his coat, before bundling the food and drinks into the coat and tying a knot with the sleeves to secure it. He swung it over his shoulder and neck, placing the bag over his back, and started to climb. He gripped one of the smaller branches with his left hand, before using his left foot to push himself up onto the first big branch, making sure it was stable before doing the same thing with his right hand and foot. He stood up straight and jumped to the next set of branches that were situated a little farther up the tree, and held on tight before swinging his right leg over it and pulling his body along with it.

He climbed until he was high enough in the tree to not be seen from the ground, shielding himself with leaves and twigs, before settling on a fat, wide branch that overlooked the town quite nicely. He straddled the branch before taking the jacket off from his shoulder and tying it up and around a branch just above his head so he could take things out individually without everything falling to the ground. As he stared down at the town, watching people walk their dogs, drive their cars, pick up their kids from their friends houses, walk into diners to eat dinner, Richie munched on his stolen candy bars and sipped his stolen coke, wondering if any of those people, the kids from the river included, could survive what he survived.

The constant travelling, being kicked out of fields by the cops because they were ‘trespassing’, being called trash by random people on the street for how he looked, having no money to his name since he was born. Being abandoned over and over again. No, none of those people down there could survive that. But he could.

He smiled. He fell asleep. And he dreamt of the beach.


Signs aesthetics based on people I know

Aries: black ripped jeans, silver necklaces and rings, drivning a modern car in the middle of the night

Taurus: picnic on green grass a beautiful sunny day, chocolate bars

Gemini: plants, a room with white walls, glossy hair

Cancer: the ocean, people holding hands, soft ice cream

Leo: lipsticks with strong colours, many pillows in the bed, Netflix

Virgio: independent, sassy and sweethearts at the same time, eyeliner wings

Libra: glitter on the cheeks, oversized denim jackets, bubblegum

Scorpio: Late nights, hoodies, the moon, candles, messy hair

Sagittarius: The forest, bus travel, lollipops, big cozy scarf, coffee

Capricorn: tv shows, gym bags from expensive brands, t-shirts over long sleeves

Aquarius: baseball caps, planets, big eyes

Pisces: loose denim pants, cats, flowers


Who’s That Vans Girl?: @NouxNoux

With a lust for creativity and a passion for style, this Dutch transplant’s head-to-toe Vans Girls looks totally caught our eye. Not only does Anouk’s natural style stand out, but her lust for life and creativity shines through on her Instagram and blog. We caught up with the style grad to talk about her effortless fashion sense and living “Off The Wall” in Southern California.

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