These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things [Requests CLOSED]

Keep My Secrets, Stranger. (Ben Bruce for ArianaWeasley)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Well, the picture over there is Ben.

The one on top, I mean.

I actually used that picture because of Danny's beautiful-ass smile, but whatever.

I needed a good kick in the plot bunnies. Thank you, Ariana. c:

HEEEEEEEEEEEEERRREEEEE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

-- (comeatmebro) --

Chlo's small nostrils flared as someone at the party brushed roughly against her arm while moving past her. Her slim fingers twitched uncontrollably, wanting nothing more than to wrap themselves around the person's throat and indent themselves into their trachea.

Chlo huffed, downing the rest of her glass of vodka like a man.

A random blond came up next to her—as Chlo was sitting on a bar stool, which was by the bar, duh—and pointed at a wine bottle behind the bartender.

"Is that wine?!" the blond girl shouted—and being right next to Chlo, in her ear.

Chlo winced at the volume of the girl's voice, before snorting at her actual question. "No, it's grape juice," she muttered sarcastically.

The girl turned to Chlo after getting her glass of wine and began ecstatically talking. She seemed nice, but Chlo hated people in general so she didn't really care. She pulled out her iPod, stuffed in her earphones, and turned it on.

Immediately, The Depths by Of Mice and Men began playing. Chlo smirked and mockingly waved goodbye to the blond girl, who left when she saw that she was being ignored.

Chlo rolled her eyes skyward at a pair of gorillas (people) that were humping (dancing) furiously on the dance floor.

Why did I even come here? she groaned inwardly. Oh, right. My contradictory personality; lover of parties, loather of people.

A man was suddenly standing in front of her. He ripped one earphone out of her ear—aw, shit, he wants to talk.

"Hi," he said, smirking.

So full of himself.

"Fuck off," Chlo said with the flattest expression possible.

He frowned quite deeply. "Bitch," he muttered and walked off.

Well that escalated quickly.

Chlo shrugged, her deepest sympathies being in the form of the thought, People need to learn to not fuck with my earphones, dammit.

Finally deciding to get the eff out of there for a while, Chlo hopped off of the bar stool she was sitting on and instantly became quite a few inches shorter.

Pausing the song that was playing on her iPod, Chlo waved the barman over—who was entertaining himself with a few Jersey Shore-type girls and therefore greeted her with a scowl for taking him away from what was sure to be a lay or two—and bought an entire bottle of classic Jack Daniels from him.

"Keep the change, you prick," Chlo muttered as she tossed a roll of money at the man, bring her jacket closer to her and politely excusing (roughly shoving) her way through the crowd and out the doors of the packed bar.

She nodded in acknowledgement at the bouncer, who—unsurprisingly—was still sorting through people to let inside the nightclub.

Really, she was only being nice to him because one, he looked like he could kick her skinny ass, and two, he could get her into some serious trouble if he wanted to.