#Friday Night Lights: A Town a Team and a Dream

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

How successful would Eric Taylor…

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[jupitersfall]

single-mom blurb | J. Taylor

Jackie Taylor is the soccer mom. She shows up to every game in her son’s team colors, and cheers the loudest out of all the moms.

She had seen you before, but never spoken to you. All she knew, you were the assistant coach. But, you had started to catch her eye a little more with each game. She found herself showing up to practice to watch rather than just drop her son off.

She was a little hesitant when it came to her love life because, even though she was still relatively young, there were certain stigmas about single mothers. She wanted someone who understood that her biggest priority was her son.

But, things started slowly. Eye contact that would last a second too long, subtle compliments about how you were so good with the kids. Although, Jackie did have her guard up. Not out of fear, but out of caution. She had a life carefully built around her son, routines solid as stone: weekday practices, saturday pancakes, movie nights with popcorn and mismatched socks on the couch.

At first, it was easy to pretend nothing serious was happening. A few dinners. Some long conversations in the parking lot when the rest of the kids had already gone home and her son was in the car, complaining about needing a shower. Jackie told herself it was casual. She had too much going on to fall for someone. Too many responsibilities. Too many nights of worrying if she’d remembered to sign the permission slip or schedule the dentist appointment. But she couldn’t ignore how her chest fluttered every time your name popped up on her phone.

You didn’t press. You gave her space to feel safe. You made things light when they needed to be, but never shallow. She tried to show you her appreciation: showing up early to help set up cones before practice, bringing extra water bottles when the weather spiked and snacks for when the kids got hungry.

She let you in inch by inch. First, it was the casual dinners after games. Then it was you coming by on a sunday morning with donuts and staying to help build a new bookshelf that had been sitting in a box in the corner of the living room for three weeks. The early mornings before the school rush, when her son watched cartoons in mismatched pajamas and she sipped lukewarm coffee from a chipped mug. You started showing up with bagels and that cinnamon-honey spread she liked, which was only served at a bakery across town. It wasn’t every day. Just enough to make it feel like something to look forward to.

There were also the in-between moments. You’d help haul groceries into the house. You stayed for dinner more often, first out of convenience, then out of habit. Then out of want. You’d watch cheesy family movies on friday nights, with hot chocolate and candy. When she was feeling stressed, you’d wash the dishes, take out the garbage, vacuum around the house.

She didn’t just like being around you anymore, she had started to miss you when you weren’t there. She found herself leaning into you without meaning to—calling you when the car battery died, when her son came home with a scraped knee, when she had a bad day at work and needed someone to talk to. And when you showed up, you didn’t ask for anything in return. You just made space for her, for all of it.

Still, there were moments when the weight of it hit her. Once, she watched the two of you from the kitchen window—you and her son in the backyard, kicking a ball around like it was the most natural thing in the world. And she froze. Not from fear, but from the sheer magnitude of how much she was beginning to trust you. How much she wanted this to last.

That scared her, made her feel a weird twisting sensation deep in her gut.

She had her moments. Days when balancing everything felt like too much. Being a mom, a partner, a woman who still had her own dreams. But you never made her feel like she had to choose between it all. You just made space. Held it for her when she couldn’t hold it for herself. The night she pulled back, saying she needed time, that maybe things were getting too serious. You didn’t argue. You just nodded, said you understood, and reminded her that you weren’t going anywhere unless she asked you to.

But she never did. She really didn’t want you to go anywhere.

So she started leaving a toothbrush for you in the bathroom drawer. You started keeping a spare hoodie at her place. Her son started asking if you’d stay for dinner. You always said yes. And the first time her son fell asleep on your shoulder during movie night, Jackie just stared for a second, heart in her throat, throat in her stomach. You didn’t even move. You just shifted a little so he’d be more comfortable, rested your cheek on his head, and kept watching the movie like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It stopped being a question of if you were part of her family and started feeling like you always had been. The love between you didn’t ask to be center stage. It existed in the background hum of the everyday: grocery store runs, the occasional forgotten lunchbox, the routine of bedtime stories and alarm clocks and coffee brewing just the way she liked it.

It wasn’t flashy, but it was full of trust and comfort, which is what Jackie craved most.

For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel like she was waiting for something to fall apart. She didn’t feel like she was making space for someone who wouldn’t stay. She didn’t feel like she needed to be smaller, less of a burden. Really, she didn’t feel like a burden at all. Not when it came to you. You two weren’t just dating, anymore. You were building something. Slow, and steady, brick by brick.

[hoe4hotchner]

Friday night lights | [A.H]

Pairing: Country boy!Hotch x City girl!reader | WC: 1.7k | CW: Fluff, song fic, small town x big city, American football

A/N: Just an FYI I know nothing about american football at all and all terms used in this is a result of my google telling me technical terms and what they mean, so if they're used wrong I ask you to look the other way heheh

It wasn’t hard to spot you in the stands, even with the crowd packed shoulder-to-shoulder along the weathered bleachers of the local high school. Dressed in a sleek black coat and boots better suited for the city streets, you stood out like a sore thumb amongst the denim jeans, battered baseball caps, and Carhartt jackets. Yet, you didn’t seem to mind.

Hotch leaned against the chain-link fence near the field, arms folded across his chest, his work-worn boots crunching on the gravel beneath him. His lips twitched into a smile as his eyes caught yours, scanning the sea of faces until they landed on him. You gave him a little wave, your gloved fingers barely visible in the bright glare of the floodlights, and he nodded back, the warmth spreading from his chest outwards.

Aaron Hotchner had lived in this small town his entire life, and in a way, this field was a part of him. Every Friday night growing up, he’d sat in these stands, cheering until his voice was hoarse, dreaming of someday being the one to make the crowd roar. He had tried out for the team in high school but found that playing the sport was not as fun as watching a game. Hotch had instead become one of the best track and field runners of his time at the school.

Football wasn’t just a sport here — it was the community's pulse. It brought people together, week after week, under the lights and the rhythmic tones of the marching band.

This night was no different. The bleachers were full, blankets draped over laps, hot drinks in gloved hands. The air carried the unmistakable crispness of fall that you didn't get to experience much in the city. Every now and then, the cold bit through his jacket, but it was nothing compared to the energy of the crowd.

“C’mon, kid,” someone near him muttered, their eyes fixed on the second-string quarterback standing in the huddle.

Hotch followed their gaze. The young quarterback — barely more than a boy — looked tense as he wiped his hands nervously on his jersey. The starting QB had gone down in the second quarter, and now this kid, who rarely saw more than the sidelines, was being asked to carry the weight of the entire game.

With less than thirty seconds on the clock and the team down by four, the coach had called a Hail Mary. It was risky and desperate, but it was the only play they had.

Hotch could feel the tension ripple through the crowd, every eye locked on the field. The quarterback jogged to the line of scrimmage, calling out a snap count with a voice that barely carried over the noise of the stands. The ball snapped back to him, and he dropped into the pocket, his eyes scanning the field.

The roar of the crowd seemed to fade as time slowed. Hotch watched the boy wind up and let the ball fly, a perfect spiral cutting through the air. It sailed high, arching over the heads of defenders and receivers alike.

Everyone held their breath.

The ball came down in the end zone, right into the hands of a sprinting receiver.

For a moment, there was silence as you moved through the crowd, wanting to be by your boyfriend's side. Then, the stadium erupted. Cheers and screams filled the air as the team stormed the field. The receiver, clutching the ball tightly, was mobbed by his teammates. The young quarterback stood frozen, staring at the scoreboard before breaking into a grin so wide it was visible even from the stands.

Beside him, you let out a laugh of pure delight, clapping your hands as you turned to Hotch.

“That was incredible!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed from the cold.

The young quarterback was hoisted onto the shoulders of his teammates, his grin even wider now as he waved to the cheering crowd. Hotch glanced at you, the sparkle in your eyes making his chest tighten.

This wasn’t your world. It wasn’t the bustling city streets you knew so well, with their late-night diners and endless streams of people. Truly a city that never slept. It wasn’t the place where you felt most at home. But here you were, bundled up in the bleachers of a football game, sharing in the joy of a kid you didn’t know throwing the pass of his life.

You were trying to understand this world — for him.

As the crowd began to disperse, Hotch pushed off the fence and turned to you.

“Well?” you asked, slipping your hands into the pockets of your coat. “How’d the kid do?”

“He just made himself a legend,” Hotch replied, his voice full of pride.

“Guess I picked a good night to come, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, looking down at you. “You did.”

You looped your arm through his, leaning into him for warmth as you walked toward the parking lot. The lights of the field still shone brightly behind you, illuminating the faint clouds of breath in the air.

“I think I get it now,” you said quietly after a moment.

“Get what?”

“This,” you replied, gesturing vaguely toward the field. “Why it matters so much to you. It’s not just a game, is it?”

Hotch shook his head, his lips quirking into a small smile. “It’s more than that. It’s… home.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked to his truck in comfortable silence.

The barn door creaked as Hotch pushed it open, the late morning sun streaking in behind him. Dust particles danced in the golden light, settling on bales of hay stacked neatly along one side. He paused for a moment, surveying the scene, then walked in, his boots echoing softly against the wooden floor.

From your spot leaning against the fence outside, you watched him with admiration. His broad shoulders were framed perfectly by the sunlight streaming in through the open door. He moved with purpose, rolling up his sleeves as he reached for a tool hanging on the wall.

“This place belonged to my granddad,” he’d told you one evening not long after you visited the town for the first time. “He left it to me when he passed. Everyone thought I’d sell it, maybe head somewhere bigger… but I couldn’t let it go.”

At the time, you hadn’t fully understood why. The farm was a sprawling stretch of land with fences that always seemed to need mending and animals that required constant care. The house itself was small and worn, the kind of place you’d never dreamed of calling home back in the city. In fact, you would've turned your nose up at the mere offer to live in a place like this if you hadn't met him.

But as the months went by, you started to see it through his eyes. The cracked paint on the barn doors wasn’t just a sign of wear — it was a piece of history, a reminder of the generations that had worked the land before him. The wide fields, stretching endlessly under an open sky, were more than a view — they were a canvas for his hard work and dreams.

Hotch poured himself into the farm with a determination that left you breathless. From sunup to sundown, he worked tirelessly, baling hay, tending to the animals, fixing machinery, and planting crops. When the debts his granddad had left behind threatened to swallow him whole, he didn’t back down. Instead, he fought harder, learning as he went, year by year until he finally paid them off.

Now, the farm thrived under his care. The barn was bustling with life, the fields were fertile and green, and the small-town skeptics who once whispered doubts now spoke his name with respect.

The barn door creaked again as he stepped back out, wiping his hands on a rag. His dark hair was mussed, and there was a streak of dirt across his cheek, evidence of another morning spent knee-deep in hard work. When his eyes found yours, a small smile tugged at his lips.

“You’re staring,” he teased, leaning against the fence beside you.

“Can you blame me?” you shot back with a grin. “It’s not every day I see a man single-handedly outworking half the county.”

Hotch chuckled, the sound was low and warm, settling in your chest. “It’s not every day I’ve got someone like you cheering me on.”

You reached for his hand, slipping your fingers between his and giving it a gentle squeeze. His palm was calloused.

At first, moving here had been an adjustment. The slow pace of life, the way neighbors showed up unannounced with casseroles and unsolicited advice — it had been overwhelming. And yet, with Hotch by your side, it didn’t feel so foreign anymore.

“Are you sure you’re not getting tired of all this?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face.

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think I’m starting to love it.”

The breeze picked up, carrying the scent of freshly cut hay and wildflowers. Around you, the quiet of the countryside filled the air — the soft clucking of hens in the coop, the distant whinny of a horse in the pasture, and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

“This place is a part of you,” you said after a moment. “And if I’m being honest, it’s becoming a part of me, too.”

Hotch turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with something that felt a lot like home. Because that’s what this was becoming — not just his history, but yours, too. Together, you were building something that went deeper than roots in the soil. It was in the way he smiled when he caught you watching him, in the evenings spent side by side on the porch, and in the shared dreams of a life that felt simple but full.

As the two of you stood there by the fence, hand in hand, the future stretched out before you — wide and open. Now you just had to convince him to let you adopt 100 dogs that you could run around and play with while he worked.

[americaine-noces]

under the bleachers ⋆˚࿔

what starts with one stolen glance across the soccer field turns into a secret-laced spiral of late-night drives, under-the-bleachers kisses, and the kind of love that makes you reckless. in a town that doesn’t understand girls like them, they find freedom in each other—and maybe something like forever. ⟢ a/n : i know that ts is so short but pls bear w ME💜

it’s friday night. the kind that hums with leftover adrenaline—halftime lights fading, the smell of sweat and soft pretzels still hanging in the air. your team lost. not by much, but enough to sting. you still smiled for the pictures, still did your high kicks and pyramids and fake-laughed at locker room jokes.

but now you’re home. in your room. showered and sprawled out across your bed in natalie’s jersey. it’s too big, drowning you in blue and yellow. the number’s faded. it smells like grass and bonfire smoke and her stupid vanilla shampoo. you’re chewing the inside of your cheek, watching the ceiling like it might blink first.

you haven’t heard from her.

you texted her twenty minutes ago:

you: snacks or no snacks? i got chips & that gross blue slushie you like

no reply.

you try again.

you: unless you changed your mind.

still nothing.

you sit up, hug your knees, and curse under your breath. the jersey falls off one shoulder. you don’t fix it.

it’s past eleven when you hear it—the soft clink of a pebble against your window. you freeze. then another. and another.

you slide the window open and look down.

natalie’s there, hoodie half-zipped, cigarette tucked behind her ear. she looks up like she’s been caught red-handed, but doesn’t seem sorry.

“forgot how high up your window is,” she calls up. “my aim sucks.”

you bite back a grin. “you could’ve just used the front door like a normal person.”

“but then i’d have to talk to your dad. no thanks.”

“he’s asleep.”

“even worse.”

you sigh. “get up here.”

she climbs the trellis like she’s done it before—like muscle memory. you step back as she slips into your room, landing with a soft thud. her shoes are muddy. you don’t care.

natalie’s quiet for a second. she takes in your room, your posters, the flicker of a lava lamp in the corner. then her eyes land on you. or maybe the jersey.

“you really wore it,” she says.

you nod. “a deal’s a deal.”

she laughs under her breath, a little breathless. “we lost.”

“still worth it.”

you don’t mean for it to come out so soft. or so honest. but it does.

natalie’s eyes flash like she doesn’t know what to do with that kind of kindness. she walks over, sits on the edge of your bed, and pulls something out of her pocket. a cassette tape, half-labeled in smeared sharpie: van’s mix, vol. 4.

you blink. “you actually brought it.”

she shrugs. “van made me swear on her cat’s life. apparently this one has a song that ‘might make you cry.’”

“great.”

natalie leans forward, pushing it into your old tape deck. the static is immediate—then music. low, fuzzy. acoustic guitar and female vocals. it’s a little off-tune. a little too real. you don’t recognize the song.

you lie back. she does too. your arms brush.

you think of asking her what’s been on her mind. why she didn’t reply. why her eyes look heavier than usual. but then her hand slips into yours, and she squeezes—once, like a question.

you squeeze back. answer.

you fall asleep like that. not tangled. not kissing. just… next to each other. like maybe that’s enough for now.

outside, the town’s quiet. the cicadas are gone. replaced by the soft whir of a neighbor’s sprinkler. inside, natalie dreams of being someone who doesn’t ruin things. and you? you don’t dream at all.

you already have what you wanted.

at least for tonight.

⟢ a/n : edi sorry kung natapakan yung pagka love team niyo!!!!! anyway ill post pt4 soon because i love u guys so much💜 part two ⊹ ࣪ ˖ part three ⊹ ࣪ ˖ part four ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[ibetonlosinghuskies]

patience and pleasure pt 6

summary: as paige packs to move to uconn, she starts to doubt herself. grasping for a sense of security, she goes to the one person she knows can make her feel better. azzi.

disclaimer: as always everything i write is fictional!

warnings: fluff, angst, emotional distress, mild anxiety mention.

word count: 4.6k +

author's note: ik this probably isn't what you were expecting lol, very sorry. i will be giving yall what you want very soon.

~flashback to july 2020~

paige's pov:

i can't believe i'm doing this.

playing at uconn has been my dream since i was a kid, but now that it's finally happening i feel paralyzed. packing my stuff made things feel final.

i'm really leaving minnesota. everything i know is here.

who's going to build legos with drew? who's going to make my parents coffee in the morning?

my hands shake as i fold another shirt, memories flooding my mind. friday night games, late-night drives with the team, sunday morning cartoons with drew.

what if i'm not ready? what if i can't handle the pressure?

i'd been doing a good job keeping all this to myself. putting on my best smile for every interview, every photoshoot. i had a good enough support system too, my family, friends, fans. but behind every "congratulation", i felt their expectation. a standard of perfection only a prodigy could fulfill.

what if i let everyone down?

i can't let them see me crack.

it's not like i'm not grateful for the opportunity. this is all i've worked towards for years. it just hurts to leave everything behind, especially for a future i had no control over. i felt safe here, in this moment, i'm full of potential.

the weight of my potential weighs heavily on my shoulders, keeping me up at night.

i sink to the floor, surrounded by half-packed boxes. part of me wants to unpack it all, to pretend that time isn't moving forward.

my eyes snap up when i hear a knock at my bedroom door.

"hey kiddo," my dad says warmly, leaning against the door frame.

"hey," i reply weakly, putting on a smile. i feel his eyes scan my face, his expression warming with sympathy.

he knows my smile is fake.

"already packing? you don't leave for another week, it shouldn't take you that l—" he stops mid-sentence looking at my closet. "but with that shoe collection maybe you should've started a month ago," he teases, trying to make me smile.

"i just want to be ready," i say, sounding more insecure than i expected.

"it's okay to be scared, you know?" he starts, his voice gentle. "i know this is a big change."

"i just don't wanna disappoint anyone," i stand, continuing to pack my stuff, eyes glued to the floor.

"you could never disappoint us," he assures me. "we're all so proud of you, no matter what."

a mix of gratitude and homesickness rushes over me. i crumble over his words, a few tears escaping my eyes. walking slowly, he grabs me in his arms. we stand there for a moment, the heaviness of change lingering in the air.

"you know," he says suddenly, "i think azzi's still in town at her grandparents. why don't you give her a call?"

he's right, i usually visit her around this time of year. the thought of azzi brings a small smile to my face. memories of our summers spent together fill my mind—trips to the fair, month long sleepovers, sleeping in her clothes.

"not everything has to change, paige," his voice knowing, eyes gauging my reaction.

if anyone could understand what i'm going through, i'd be her.

"yeah, i'll give her a call," i nod, trying to shake my heartache.

"good," he says, walking to my door. "don't forget to leave some of your shoes behind. we don't need the whole state of minnesota wondering why there's a shortage."

i roll my eyes, laughing. "i'll think about it."

he gives me one last warm smile before closing my door. i take a deep breath, reaching for my phone.

azzi's pov:

i'm sprawled across my bed, scrolling through my phone when it starts buzzing. paige's name lights up the screen, and i can't help but smile.

"hey p," i answer, my smile showing in my voice.

"hey az," she replies, and immediately i know something's off. her voice is quieter than usual, lacking its usual charm.

"you okay?" i ask, sitting up straighter.

there's a pause, i can almost feel her forcing a smile through the phone. "yeah, i'm good. just...packing."

packing. right. she's leaving soon.

i'm hit with a wave of anticipatory grief. i've been trying to avoid thinking about what it's gonna be like when she leaves. we'd fallen into such an easy routine. she's spent countless summers at my grandparent's house, becoming part of my family.

"how's that going?" i ask, trying to sound hopeful.

"it's...going," she laughs gently. "it's just a lot, you know?"

i do know. the spotlight she's received these past couple years has been intense, but paige made everything she did look effortless. her confidence carried off the court, giving her a new charisma.

she was so easy to love.

"yeah...it's a big change," my voice matching her quiet tone.

there's another pause, the soft hum of the phone. i listen for her breath, a sigh, some background noice. but nothing. i feel her worry through the phone.

"can i come over—"

"you should come ov—"

we say at the same time. "i'll pick you up tomorrow morning," i smile at the thought of finally getting to see her.

i hear her take a steadying breath, "okay," her voice sounding a bit lighter.

my mind starts to wander. what if i don't see her again for years after this? all this time, and i never thought i'd have to confront my feelings for her.

"hey, i'll call you later, okay?" i'm sad to end our call, but i didn't have time to waste.

"uh yeah," she says, sounding a bit disappointed. "talk to you later."

i hang up the phone, my mind racing, filled with all of her favorite things. that minnesota lynx jersey she loves, her favorite snacks, the lego sets she builds with drew.

i can't let her leave without knowing how much of me she's taking with her.

i start in my closet, sifting through my clothes. my fingers brush against the fabric of my favorite hoodie—the one paige always steals when she's here.

i pull the hoodie closer to my chest, hoping that, for a moment, i could capture the warmth of her hug. a mixture of my perfume and her shampoo. i swear no matter how many times i wash the damn thing, it always carries a piece of her. like the intricate stitching holding the fabric, our bond sewn into the core of who we are.

i run my fingers along the seams—strong, resilient, trustworthy. i guess some things are too deep to be washed away. maybe it'll remind her that no matter how far she goes, a part of us will always be intertwined.

she should have this. it's practically hers anyway.

next, i move to my bookshelf, scanning the titles. my eyes land on one of my favorite john green books, looking for alaska. every once in a while she'd ask me to read it to her so she could fall asleep. paige always claimed my books were boring, but sometimes i'd catch her leaning in, eyes wide and attentive, consumed in the story. maybe she'd finally get around to reading it herself.

lastly, i grab some scissors off my desk and head for my front porch. the old basketball hoop stands sentinel, a silent witness to countless hours of our shared passion. i run my fingers along the worn metal, remembering all the times we'd scrimmage until the streetlights flickered on. our laughter and trash talk echoing through the quiet neighborhood.

i tilt the hoop towards me cutting off a piece of the net. the frayed edges feel like memories slipping through my fingers.

she was my champion first.

before the world knew 'paige bueckers', i knew paige. the slight competitive spark she'd get in her eyes before every shot. her confident sway as she played, turning my front porch into an arena.

everyone is finally gonna see in her what i've known for years.

back in my room, i surveyed my collection. each item, a different memory. i reach under my bed, adding the final touch to my gift—an old lego set paige and i bought together a long time ago. i put off building it with her, claiming we should save it for a special night.

there is nothing more special than tomorrow night.

i want everything to be perfect. i find myself frantically cleaning the house at 2 am, as if paige hasn't visited countless times. i organize my bookshelf, fold clothes, anything to keep my hands busy and my mind from wandering to her.

my exhaustion finally takes over and i lay sprawled across my bed. i try to sleep but she's all i dream about.

except these aren't the usual dreams.

a sequence of different visions flash through my mind, in each of them i'm losing her. we're on a basketball court, but something's off. paige is wearing a uconn jersey, looking different in a way i can't quite place. older, more independent. i'm still in my high school uniform. we're on opposite sides of the court, the air between us heavy. i call out to her but no sound comes out.

i want to tell her something. but my throat tightens, restricting like it's trying to hold her too.

i wake up before the sun, in a cold sweat. it felt so real, almost predestined. a heavy ache in my chest lingers, still unable to articulate what i need to tell her. the thought of my nightmares becoming real ignites a motivation in me to figure it out. fast.

i close my eyes again, hoping for dreamless sleep this time.

tomorrow, i'll find the words. i'll make sure i do.

paige's pov:

the sun peaks through my blinds, waking me up earlier than usual. awaking to the sight of half-packed boxes leaves me disoriented. but my heart flutters when i check my phone to find seven unread text from azzi.

i'm gonna miss stuff like this the most.

glancing at the time, i start to pack a bag to stay the night. she technically didn't say i was sleeping over, but i know us well enough to know that i will.

i start throwing things into my bag—my favorite hoodie, some shorts, and a pillow. then i pause, remembering the last time we hung out at her grandparents' place.

everything i needed was already there.

i empty half the bag, smiling to myself. the hoodie she'd always let me wear, my toothbrush, that book azzi's always bugging me to read, even my favorite pillow. they're all still at her place.

i'm reaching for my phone to tell her i'm ready when i hear my doorbell. smoothing out my hair, i nearly trip down the stairs running to answer the door.

i take a quick breath. even after all this time, i still want to look good for her. the moment i open the front door i'm met with azzi's smile, carrying two coffees in her hands.

everything i need is right here.

"i'm surprised you're not still in your pajamas," she smiles, handing me a coffee.

"what? no, of course not. i've been up for hours," i lie, letting her roll her eyes at my comment.

"mhm," she turns walking to her car.

i glance at her while she walks, her attitude showing in her posture. within just a few seconds, i already feel lighter.

the drive there is both long and short. as we pull up to her grandparents' house, i feel a wave of nostalgia. how many summers have i spent here? how much of me will i be leaving behind?

azzi's grandma is already at the door as we get out of the car. "paigey!," she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming. "how's our little superstar?"

"hi grandma fudd," i mumble, as she pulls me into a hug. i feel like a kid again in her arms.

"look at you," she says, holding me at arm's length. "more beautiful every time i see you."

i blush bashfully at her compliments. "hey, what about me?" azzi pouts from behind us.

"oh hush, you too," she pulls azzi into a deep hug. "i'm glad you finally came, paige. i was worried you weren't gonna make it this year. azzi here hasn't stopped talking about you since your last visit."

i shoot azzi a look, raising my eyebrows at her. she blushes, looking away.

once inside, memories pass me by like a warm summer breeze. the creaky third step on the stairs, the faded marks on the doorframe where azzi and i measured our heights every summer. old family photos lining the hallway, many of which include me.

azzi leads me up to her room, her hand gently tugging at mine excitedly. i let her lead like it was my first time in this house.

as we enter her room, i can't help but notice how clean it looks. her bookshelf organized by size and color, desk clear and neat. i almost miss the messiness of it all, the way her personality leaked all over her bedroom walls.

had she cleaned everything for me?

i scan her bedroom walls, all of which are covered in photos of us. photos from practice, summer trips to the lake, championship games.

her bedroom a museum of us, a bold testament to our bond.

"you kept all of these?" i asked softly, touching the corner of a photo from years ago.

azzi shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "of course," she clears her throat nervously. "only because i look so good in them," she laughs failing to hide her affection.

i turn to her, ready to tease her about being sentimental, but the words die on my lips. she's holding something behind her, smiling with her eyes.

she takes a deep breath, bringing her hands forward slowly. in them is a carefully wrapped package, similar to the half-packed boxes littering my floor at home.

"i, uh, got you this. well, more like...put together." she hands me the box.

my fingertips brush against hers, heart racing as i look up into her eyes. "az, you didn't have to—"

"just open it, p," she interrupts, her voice soft and eager.

i unwrap the box, finally catching sight of its contents. it feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room, it's all too much for me. her favorite hoodie, a worn copy of looking for alaska, a piece of frayed net from the hoop on her porch. and...is that the lego set we bought a long time ago?

all pieces of us, delicately put together in a small brown box.

"az..." i whisper, blinking away tears.

"i wanted you to have a piece of home to take with you," she explains, her eyes seeking my reaction. "so you didn't forget me—us."

i look up at her, my vision blurring the edges around her face. a warmth in my heart builds, surrounded by fragments of us. the finality of it all finally hit me.

how can we pack all of us into a box? years spent together, inseparable for the longest time, just to be neatly packaged in a cardboard box.

there's still so much i want to take with me. how do you package the sound of azzi's laugh? the feeling of her hand in mine? how do i fold up the comfort of her presence and tuck it neatly into a suitcase?

our friendship is a living, breathing thing. packing it away feels inhumane. she will never be a cardboard box i push into the back of my closet, the back of my mind. azzi's warmth pulses underneath my skin. she's the movement that pushes the blood through my body.

i realize something now. home isn't minnesota. it isn't my house or even this one.

home is azzi. and i'm about to leave it behind.

the weight of this box, however light in pounds, pulls me to the floor. my knees buckling underneath me, unable to form a coherent sentence. i'm drowning in a sea of emotions, waves of nostalgia and fear crashing over me. i cry, clinging to the box, like a life vest. my breath comes in short gasps, like i'm barely keeping my head above water.

i hear her call my name, but i can't respond. her voice feels far, muffled by my own emotion. i want to reach out, to tell her i'm okay, but my body won't cooperate.

azzi's hoodie wraps around me like a buoy, keeping me from sinking into the depths of my fears. the book, a raft of memories. the piece of net becomes a rope, pulling me to the shore of home—to her.

i can feel her worry radiate off her in waves, matching the momentum of my fear.

azzi's my anchor, solid and hopeful, grounding me in this storm. her hands cup my face, holding me like water, wiping away the flood.

her touch is gentle, safe. i lean into it instinctively, she always knows how to bring me back to myself.

looking up, i meet azzi's gaze. her eyes are a mirror of my own—a mix of worry, empathy, and something deeper. something that's been left unspoken between the two of us for a long time.

i feel her eyes search my face, a warmth that cuts through the chill of my tears.

azzi's looking at me like i'm her anchor too like she's just as terrified of drifting apart.

"paige, look at me," she says softly, also crying, wiping away my tears before her own.

i force myself to focus on her face. the wetness of her eyelashes, the trembling of her breath, her flushed cheeks—anything to slow my thoughts.

she sits on her knees, catching my tears in her palms. "you're not losing me, okay?" her voice reassuring, but also breaking between her tears.

"okay," i mumble sniffling. before i can thank her or apologize, she pulls my forehead to her lips. they tremble softly against my skin, her sadness showing but insistent on soothing me first.

azzi pulls my head into her chest, stroking my hair gently. i wrap my arms around her waist firmly, thinking that maybe if i hold her tightly enough, i can keep her here—in this moment, forever.

my tears begin to settle as i focus on her heartbeat, trying to memorize it. each beat a resilient promise, a faint whisper of trust, something to hold on to.

we stay there for a moment before azzi pulls back, staring at me with such a tenderness it almost sets me off again.

my eyes fall on the lego set peeking out of the box, and i can't let but let out a shaky laugh. "you're finally letting me build this," i smile, "it only took me almost moving away, huh?"

azzi's face breaks into a small grin, relief showing in her eyes. "like i'd trust you to build it on your own. someone's gotta make sure you read the instructions."

"hey!" i gasp in mock offense. "instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing, i'm a professional lego architect."

"oh we'll see about that," she jabs, opening the box.

azzi's pov:

as we build the lego set together, i can't help but steal glances at paige. i read the instructions to her but she's definitely not listening. already working at the pieces, her focus is unbreakable. her tongue pokes out slightly as she concentrates. it's so quintessentially her, it makes my heart ache.

the day passes by in a blur of laughter and shared memories. it isn't until i notice how dark my room has gotten that i realize we've spent hours on my bedroom floor.

"see, i don't need instructions," paige says, proudly showing off the part she's assembled.

"yeah, whatever," i laugh, admiring her confidence.

we're interrupted by a soft knock at my door, the scent of fresh-baked cookies wafts from behind the door. i open the door to my grandma, always the perfect host, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

she smiles warmly, "i thought you two might want a cookie break."

paige lunges up from the floor almost pushing me over, reaching for the plate. "you're gonna have to send some of these to connecticut," she says, between mouthfuls.

she laughs at her comment, "i wanted to give you this also," in her other hand she hands me an old film camera. "maybe you can capture something special," she smiles before closing the door.

"your grandma makes the best cookies," paige's voice muffled under the sound of her chewing.

before she can react, i snap a photo of her. the camera clicking in a way that makes me giggle.

"hey, i wasn't ready!" she snatches the camera out of my hands. "you're always the model anyways," she says, snapping a photo of me.

i give her a fake smile, still reaching for the camera. "happy now? give it back," i laugh, chasing her around my room.

"not until you give me a real smile," she holds the camera above her head.

"that's not gonna work, we're the same height, stupid," i reach for the camera nearly knocking it out of her hands.

"one picture, with a smile," she takes the camera up to her eye to look through the viewfinder.

i give her another impatient smile. she kneels down dramatically, shifting back and forth while snapping photos.

"okay, my turn," i reach for the camera again.

"these aren't real smiles," she pokes my side, making me giggle. "see there it is, hold still."

i drop my smile and pout dramatically. paige moves the camera away from her face and lunges towards me, jabbing at my sides. "stop, paige," i giggle, swatting at her hands.

she dodges me, her fingers continue relentlessly. i push her onto my bed, using my body weight to keep her still. we fight for a moment squirming around my mattress before i pin both of her wrists down. satisfied, i grin down at her. our laughter comes to a soft stop and we're both breathless.

"see, was that so hard?" paige tilts her head to the side, still out of breath. she attempts to reach her hands up again but i tighten my grip.

"oh, whatever," i roll my eyes, leaning closer to her, my hair draping over her face.

"can i tell you something?" she starts, her voice sounding a bit more serious.

"hm?" i respond, still satisfied i could hold her still.

paige hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching mine. "i've never actually had my first kiss," her cheeks flushing a light pink. "i thought i would've by now, before college, you know?"

i loosen my grip on her wrist, "oh, i had no idea. i figured plenty of guys would be lining up to kiss the paige bueckers," i tease.

"i guess," she looks away bashfully, "i just want it to be with someone special. someone i care about," her voice lowering to a whisper.

there's a silence that hangs between us. i feel my heart pounding in my chest. "like who?" i ask quietly.

i need to hear her say it.

her eyes flicker to my lips briefly before meeting my eyes again. "like...you," she says nervously, almost asking it like a question.

was she saying what i think she was?

"really?" i lean closer to her, my eyes wide and hopeful.

she lets out a nervous breath, her eyes intently locked on my lips. "yeah," she whispers, blinking quickly.

before i can overthink it, she leans in, closing the gap between us. her lips meet mine softly, and my hands reach for her face. i feel a nervous tremble in her lips, soft and warm. the pure flavor of her lips, tasting like vanilla and chocolate. her hands move to my waist, her thumb swaying slightly. we move slowly, gently, not wanting to rush this moment.

our kiss is tender like a warm summer night. her lips move sweetly and determined like she's thought of this before. her hands stroking softly saying "i've wanted this. wanted you."

when she pulls back i feel a new kind of emptiness. how am i going to live with the absence of her touch? she's opened a crack in my heart, long enough for the light to come in.

kissing paige was like sunlight embodied.

we stare at each other for a moment. caught in this new in-between.

what do you say after you kiss your best friend? how do you tell her it was your first kiss too?

"i'm glad it was you," she smiles, sitting up.

"yeah, me too," i murmur, my voice full of emotion. i lean to the side, still dazed from her touch.

"it's getting late, we should probably—" she starts.

"yeah...um," i respond uneasily, standing up to walk over to my closet. i grab one of my old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. "you can wear these to sleep in."

paige takes the clothes from me, her fingers brushing against mine. when we touch this time, it feels different, heavier. she heads to the bathroom to change, and i let out a breath i didn't know i was holding in.

even being just a room over, it feels like she's slipping through my fingers. i'm reminded of my nightmares from last night, paralyzed by the thought of losing her.

i need to tell her.

i grab a piece of paper and pen off my desk, my hands quivering slightly as i start to write.

the first part of the letter flows easily. but as i continue, i feel a shift. the truth hanging in the space between my pen and the paper.

she deserves the truth. and i owe it to myself, to finally tell her.

my heart races, searching for the right words as i continue...

i reread the letter, feeling vulnerable under my own words.

what if this ruins everything? what if she doesn't feel the same way?

i glance at my bedroom door, knowing paige could return at any moment. the panic sets in and i make a split-second decision. my hands shake as i tear the paper in half.

the first part, full of friendship and encouragement. it's a bit more sentimental than usual but not enough to make her suspect anything. i fold it neatly, placing it atop the other objects in the box. it's safe, expected.

the second part, my true feelings for her. i can't bring myself to throw it away, but i'm not ready for her to read it either. i tuck the small slip into the final pages of the last chapter of the book i'm giving her.

maybe one day i'll find the courage to tell her. maybe someday she'll finish the book and know how i really feel. but for now, this feels safe.

i don't know if i'm hoping she finds it or not.

as i hear the bathroom door open, i quickly close the book, sealing my fate. my heart pounds with the weight of my unspoken words.

my thoughts cease when i see her in my clothes. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looking unabashedly herself. for a moment, i see our future. imagining our closets becoming one, holding her as she falls asleep, an endless sleepover.

how am i supposed to let her go?

she catches me staring and smiles softly, a knowing glint in her eyes that makes my heart ache. without speaking, we settle into our usual routine. i let her sleep on my favorite side of the bed, she shifts around, trying to get comfortable. eventually, she turns on her side, her back facing me.

right before i drift off to sleep, i hear her call out to me. "azzi," she whispers softly into the dark.

"hm?" i answer, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"can you hold me?"

her voice gentle and vulnerable, as if i could hold every piece of her together. "of course," i wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. she sinks into my touch, her breath slows.

she drifts to sleep quickly in my arms, our heartbeats syncing. the weight of our unspoken words between us, laying heavily on my chest, pushing me towards a deep sleep.

i dream of never having to let her go.

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Five - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, and Chapter Four! Masterlist :)

Chapter Five - Maybe Givin' Us A Shot

Tyler’s touch instantly calmed your whole body, even if it made you jump at first. Something about the rough yet soft hands made you melt. You couldn’t quite explain it, but it was something you definitely were not used to. 

“We should be at our destination in about 15 minutes, better get your boots back on,” he laughed, giving your hand a light squeeze.

While on the drive you decided to get extra comfortable by taking your boots off and putting your feet on the dash. You slowly pulled your hand away from his, feeling the warmth instantly leave your fingers. Sliding your boots back on, the radio playing ‘Chattahoochee’ by Alan Jackson. You smirk, turning the radio up to the volume it was that morning. 

“Well, way down yonder on the Chattahoochee, it gets hotter than a hoochie coochie,” Tyler sang with his whole heart, stealing his hat back from you, “We laid rubber on the Georgia asphalt, we got a little crazy but we never got caught.”

“Down by the river on a Friday night, a pyramid of cans in the pale moonlight,” you sang, pulling on your other boot, “Talking ‘bout cars and dreaming ‘bout women, never had a plan just livin’ for the minute.” 

“Yeah, way down yonder on the Chattahoochee, never knew how much that muddy water meant to me,” you both sang loudly, “But I learned how to swim and I learned who I was, a lot about livin' and a little ‘bout love!” 

“Y’know, princess,” he said while turning the radio down so you could hear him. 

You hummed in response, looking over at him as he took a right-hand turn into the parking lot of the Black Mesa State Park visitor center. 

“I could get used to this,” he said, getting a sheepish grin on his face. 

You smiled and chuckled, “I hate that I could say the same, just don’t let my team know.” 

“Why do you say it like that?” He asked, pulling into a parking spot. 

“Because I love my team and what we do more than you know, but sometimes it would be nice to be able to jam out to the music I enjoy while in a chase. No one wants to listen to Alan Jackson or Alabama,” you said, pulling your purse strap over your shoulder, “They always want to listen to Metallica or Guns N’ Roses. They aren’t bad musicians by any means, I just grew up on country music.” 

“I give the wranglers no choice,” he laughed, “My truck, my music.” 

“I wish it worked like that for us,” she said in almost a scoff, shaking her head slightly. 

“You’re welcome to ride passenger princess whenever you would like in Ol Red,” he said, getting out of the truck and doing a slight jog to your side. 

“I appreciate it, Ty,” you said, stepping out of the truck as he opened the door for you, “But I think Boone would be heartbroken.” 

“He’ll live,” he said, shutting the door and locking the truck. 

You laughed and Tyler put his hand on your lower back as you both walked to the entrance of the park; for it being a beautiful day there weren’t many people there. While walking down a small trail you couldn’t help but enjoy the sounds of nature and the presence of Tyler. One of your lifelong loves and soon-to-be the love of your life, but you didn’t know it yet. 

“I know it may not seem like much, but this is a special place to me,” he said, walking up to a fallen tree that was turned into a bench overlooking the plains, “Before I was old enough to chase storms, I’m talking high school age Tyler, I’d come here and watch them from afar while keeping an eye on their direction.” 

“I used to do something like that when I was young, I would always watch them out the big picture window. Otherwise, I’d go on a hill nearby if the next town over was going to be hit,” you said, “Being 10 or 11, I felt useless when it came to warning people about tornados.”

“I understand, I felt the same way when I was younger. I was actually terrified of them until I learned the beauty of them,” he said, watching some of the smaller clouds cross the vast blue sky, “Whenever I feel lost or if I start feelin’ like the wranglers have done all they can do, I come out here and remember why we’re here and what all we can do to help others before, during, and after the disaster.” 

As Tyler talked, you couldn’t feel anything but a strong surge of what you could only explain as love rushing through you. He was so much like you, but also so unlike each other at the same time. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, (Y/n),” he said, “But I feel drawn to you like I am to twisters.” 

“And to think I thought the YouTube star persona was who Tyler Owens was,” you chuckled to yourself, “Turns out he’s just a big ol teddy bear.” 

“Just don’t tell anyone, k?” He said, leaning back and looking at you, “I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“I suppose I can keep that secret, just tell me one thing tho, honey,” you said, “Why’d you never ask me out before last night?” 

You calling him honey and having it sound genuine threw him off, were you actually falling for Mister Tornado Wrangler himself, Tyler Owens? He took a second to comprehend what you asked. 

“I don’t really know, the only person who knows I like you is my aunt back in Texas,” he said, picking at the bark on the bench, “I’ve kept it hidden in fear of it being rushed into or… I don’t know, having others pressure me about it.” 

“Are you saying that you were scared?” You asked, leaning back and looking out at the never-ending small hills. 

“I guess in a way you could say I was,” he said, chuckling to himself, “I can chase an EF5 tornado with no fear yet I don’t have the guts to even ask you out.” 

You sat there in silence for a few minutes, taking your hand and putting it on top of his that was rested on his thigh. 

“It’s better late than never, Ty,” you said, giving his hand a slight squeeze, “I can’t say I was that brave myself.” 

He looked over at you and asked, “What do you mean?” 

“I didn’t even know if I liked you as a person, or if I was secretly jealous of all the success you have with the Tornado Wranglers team,” you said sheepishly, “There were so many close calls over the last few years where the Storm Riders wanted to call it quits and go their different ways and quit chasing. So I had to give a pep talk to all of them and remind them of the good we do in researching the deadly beasts and getting warnings out sooner for others.” 

“If it happens again, let them go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back,” he said, “But until they did…you could ride in Ol Red…” 

“I think this year being such a success with storms and calling the right cells has helped a bunch, but I know Jade and Tristan want to start a family and as much as Willow loves me, she wants to go pursue modeling,” you sighed, “So deep down I feel like it was the last year for most the team. Asher and Finn would never leave unless I disbanded the team, neither of them have a life outside of chasing.” 

“They’re more than welcome to join us if that does happen,” he said, “Two drones would be kind of cool in videos.” 

“Oh shut up,” you said while playfully smacking his chest.

“Just imagine the views, Princess!” He said getting excited. 

“I mean, yeah, it’d be sick,” you said, “But it’s also about learning more about how twisters work.” 

“Yeah, but picture this. Two drones in the air getting a 360 view of us in Ol Red shooting fireworks off!” He said, getting up and motioning with his hands pointing finger guns into the sky. 

“Never did I think we’d go from a deep conversation to giggling like little kids,” you laughed. 

“We gotta do it!” He said, turning around and having a huge smile plastered on his face. 

You laughed while shaking your head, “I’ll talk to the team, but for now, sit your ass down.” 

“Sorry, darlin’,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile and sitting back down next to you, “So what do you think?” 

“About?” You asked, propping your boots up on his lap.

“What else would I be asking you about?” He chuckled and looked over at you with one of his eyebrows raised. 

“I mean, we were just talking about drones and a firework show in a tornado,” you said with your words trailing off and rubbing the back of your neck. 

“True,” he said, “But I’m asking ‘bout maybe givin’ us a shot…” 

Want more? Here's Chapter Six!

[alasarys]

Recommended books for the drivers from BookPeople, Austin, Texas (insta)

Daniel Ricciardo: Friday Night Lights – "... every Friday night from September to December, when the Permian High School Panthers play football, this West Texas town becomes a place where dreams can come true."

Lando Norris: Assassin's Apprentice – "Fitz ... must give up his old ways and embrace a new life of weaponry, scribing, courtly manners; and how to kill a man secretly, as he trains to become a royal assassin."

Alex Albon: My Brilliant Friend – "... a rich, intense and generous-hearted story about two friends ... a touching meditation on the nature of friendship."

Logan Sargeant: Once Upon a Time in Hollywood – "hilarious, delicious, and brutal"

Yuki Tsunoda: A Cook's Tour – "the unpredictable adventures of America's boldest and bravest chef."

Carlos Sainz: Great American Golf Stories – "some of the best classic writings, both fact and realistic fiction, that reflect the rich history, tradition, agony, and ecstasy of one of our most enduring and endearing pastimes."

Oscar Piastri: Iona Iverson's Rules for Commuting – "It turns out that talking to strangers can teach you about the world around you--and even more about yourself."

Lance Stroll: Infinite Jest – "Set in an addicts' halfway house and a tennis academy, and featuring the most endearingly screwed-up family to come along in recent fiction, Infinite Jest explores essential questions about what entertainment is and why it has come to so dominate our lives; about how our desire for entertainment affects our need to connect with other people; and about what the pleasures we choose say about who we are."

Charles Leclerc: Every Good Boy Does Fine – "[Denk] reminds us that we must never stop asking questions about music and its purposes: consolation, an armor against disillusionment, pure pleasure, a diversion, a refuge, and a vehicle for empathy."

Lewis Hamilton: The Boy with a Bird in his Chest – "A heartbreaking yet hopeful novel about the things that make us unique and lovable, The Boy with a Bird in His Chest grapples with the fear, depression, and feelings of isolation that come with believing that we will never be loved, let alone accepted, for who we truly are, and learning to live fully and openly regardless."

Max Verstappen: Atomic Habits – "Atomic Habits will reshape the way you think about progress and success, and give you the tools and strategies you need to transform your habits--whether you are a team looking to win a championship ..."

Zhou Guanyu: A Visible Man – "When Edward Enninful became the first Black editor-in-chief of British Vogue, few in the world of fashion wanted to confront how it failed to represent the world we live in. But Edward, a champion of inclusion throughout his life, rapidly changed that."

Pierre Gasly: Misery – "He's a bestselling novelist who has finally met his biggest fan. Her name is Annie Wilkes and she is more than a rabid reader – she is Paul's nurse, tending his shattered body after an automobile accident. But she is also his captor, keeping him prisoner in her isolated house."

Valtteri Bottas: Foundryside – "To have a chance at surviving ... Sancia will have to marshal unlikely allies ... and undergo her own transformation ..."

Fernando Alonso: The House of the Spirits – "an enthralling saga that spans decades and lives, twining the personal and the political into an epic novel of love, magic, and fate."

Kevin Magnussen: The Daily Dad – "366 Meditations on Parenting, Love, and Raising Great Kids"

Sergio Perez: Bad Feminist – "an inspiring call-to-arms of all the ways we still need to do better"

Building on the excellent work by @vegasgrandprix and @kritischetheologie

[unamused-boss]

California Dreaming pt3

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Last part! Warning: Kinda short, but I still hope you love it!

Summary: Max and Billy could only agree on one thing in common.... and that was you. You were their neighbor when the lived in California and Billy had the biggest crush on you. Plus it helped that you babysat, more like hangout with, Max. You were his California dream. And sometimes dreams come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't stand the time you had away from Billy. Your best friend and boyfriend were gone all in one on the same day. You've been writing to Billy which is a plus. Turns out he joined the basketball team. He's been to every party thrown in town, but he says they're all a bust. Met a guy named Munson that gets him weed, but Billy quotes "It's nothing like the shit in Cali...". You can't help but laugh at his sarcastic tones through the letters.

You know he misses it here. He tells you in every letter the love that he holds for you, that nothing will change. He admitted to going on some dates with girl to get you off his mind. He felt guilty, he wanted your forgiveness even though you told him to try an move on to at least have fun. Billy said ,once again, in his letter that he wants no one else but you. Your eyes were something he missed most of all. He said that you had a light in them that he felt only he saw. You always giggled when it came to the gushy stuff in his letters. Billy was a flirt with girls but he was a romantic with you.

Since graduating high school early you've had a lot of time on your hands. You were still gonna walk at graduation, you just weren't going to do anything else. Cause by god you are getting that dumb piece of paper in front of everyone. It was a couple of days before the week up spring break but for you it was a regular working Wednesday. You currently work at some clothing store in the mall and oh so excitedly deal with mother's trying to get some sort of deal out of you.

The time was 5:00pm you are now pulling into your driveway of your house for the night. Happy that your got off early you notice your parents aren't home yet. You make your way down to the mailbox to check for anything. Which you find a bunch of letters piled onto one another. You begin to sift through it.

"Bill, Bill, Coupon, post card from Aunt Shelly, Bill...y." You stop at, what you thought was another bill but was actually, a letter from Billy. You rush up to your front door to be able to read the letter. Throwing everything onto the kitchen table an make your way to your room. You bounce on your bed at tear open the letter...

Hello Y/N, I hope you are happy with what you're doing. I just read your letter. God I wish I could graduate early to get this shit hole. Anyways, Max is doing good. She still with those little balls of snot for friends. Hopefully you wrote her, so she can stop asking me to check the mail for your letters. I miss you very much. Spring break is about to start, since the public pool opened I got a job there. Hopefully I can get enough money to be able to come an see you and to stay with you. You probably already know me, I'm not really good at this writing shit. But if it's for you, I'll do it. I love you, -Billy

You smiled down at the words on the paper.

"I love you too." You said down to the paper. That feeling came back again. The feeling of wanting to see him. You can't help it, you miss him so much. You go over to your landline in the kitchen to lunch in a number you have memorized by heart now.

"Santa Monica airport, what can I help you with today?" The droned out employee said.

"Hey, I wanna know if you have any direct flights to Hawkins Indiana?"

"Hold on, let me check..." You hear a faint typing for a few seconds.

"Anything?" You question.

"None to Hawkins but we have one to Indianapolis flying out this Friday at 5:00am." They said.

"Perfect!" You shouted. "How much?"

"That will be a hundred an thirty dollars..."

"I've got that!" You race around to your purse to fish out your debit card to pay for the ticket. You give them the info to send the ticket via email for you to print out. It would be thirty more dollar but you didn't care.

"Alright, thank you choosing Santa Monica airlines tod-." You didn't even let them finish. You hung up the phone right away to go pack an call off work for the next week or so. You couldn't stop giggling the whole time. Seeing Billy and Max is going to be the best thing to happen to you in the past few months. Then you hear your front door open and shut. Then you realized something...

"Hey mom, I gotta tell you something!" You shouted running out of your room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were honestly shitting your pants the whole way to Hawkins from Santa Monica. You currently stand outside of Hawkins High School waiting for Billy. You slept during your flight over at 5 am but once you were on the ground you couldn't hold still. Your stuff is at the motel just outside of town for the next week.

You passionately waited for Billy to walk out of the school. You could see his car from a mile away. Plus with is reputation it wasn't hard to find out about him. You turned your wrist to look at your watch, 3:15 it read. the bell rang and school was out for spring break. Students passed by you, giving you weird looks.

"Who is that?" "Does Billy know them?" "Probably a desperate Ex." Were some of the things that were thrown around you. As if you couldn't hear the. 'Geez do these people know how to shut up...'

"Billy. Who's that?" An oddly pitchy voice said breaking you out of your thoughts.

Billy ripped his head around to you. You being the last person he would see by his car. The girl he, once had his arm around, was with was now forgotten. Billy thought he was gonna vomit at the sight of you.

"Shit.." You mutter.

"Holy fuck..." He said.

"Billy who is this?" The girl said once again getting annoyed. Billy turned back to her.

"Why are you still here?" He questioned. The girl now looked perplexed. She thought Billy was gonna take her out but now he wants nothing to do with her. Before she could say anything Billy spoke, "Go the hell away. Ya stupid cow..." He muttered the last part.

Billy walked up to you, star struck. He now had you trapped between him and the car with his hands on your hips. Holding you gently. You were smiling up at him.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you." you said. "Is that so bad?" You teased him. When you both could call one another you would constantly tease him over the phone.

"No!" He answered quickly. "It's actually great, cause I was loosing my damn mind being away from you." You giggled at him. He his lips down to your temple, kissing you gently. To the students around you it was shocking to see Billy Hargrove be gentle with anybody. But to you this was your Billy.

"Y/N!!" A familiar voice shouted out to you. You turned to her direction to see Max running full speed to you. You part from Billy momentarily to hug Max.

"Hey MadMax!" You exclaimed. Even though Billy thought Max was a pain in the ass most of the time; he loved seeing you two together. He was happy that she got to see you.

"How long are you here for?" She questioned.

"I'm here for all of spring break." You smiled. They both looked at you dumb founded. You were gonna be with them for a week.

"Yes!" Billy said excitedly, pulling you into a hug. You laughed as he squeezed you.

"How about we go on a date tonight?" You asked him.

"Hell yeah!" He shouted. Crashing his lips onto yours. Desperation and love pouring into the moment. He missed your lips. How soft they were and smooth. He missed you so much.

"ew..." It was faint but you both knew it was from Max.

"Get in the car shit bird." Billy said.

"Hey be nice." You sternly said, mighty sapping his arm. He huffed at you, looking at you with soft eyes. The eye you fell in love with.

"Let's take Max home and we can go on our , much needed, date."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." Billy smiled.And that's how it went for the next week. You spent your time with Billy and Max, well more so Billy. Billy held you so close not wanting to let you go when you both cuddled. You met Max's friends and some more people around Hawkins with your small time there. You had some sleepovers with Max, trying to make up for lost time. Neil wouldn't do anything while you where here in town, so that meant a safe environment for Max and Billy even though it was for a week. You found the town cute, but you prefer Santa Monica.

Most of all, you and Billy got time alone. To be with each other in each others arms. Going on cute dates, walks, drives, everything. You became the envy of the town. The one that swooped Billy Hargrove off hid feet the spring break of 85'. He wouldn't have it any other way though. He would stay in this shithole town if it meant being with you.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to.

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

When it came time for you to go home, it was full of tears and heart felt kisses. You didn't want to leave them again but you had to. 

"Once I graduate I'll be back, I promise." You said.

That promise was made two months ago. In those two months you also visited Billy three more times over the summer. In your last visit you brought him back home with you. To California. You got him far away from his pain. 

You both have an apartment near the beach, like you both wanted. You stared college; while Billy started work at a car restoration shop. Billy could surf everyday while you laid in the sun. You both loved each other even more with every day that passed.

A California dream come true.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know its a cheesy ending but I hope you like it.

@capitanostella

@maackiimoo

@mystargirl-interlude

[millyh23]

Always Almost

Alessia Russo x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Based on this request

_________________________________________________

The sun was setting over the small town where you and Alessia grew up, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood. You could hear the distant sound of laughter and the thud of a football being kicked. It was a familiar sound, one that brought with it a flood of memories of summers spent playing in the park, dreaming of being professional footballers.

“Come on, you can’t be serious!” Alessia exclaimed, rolling her eyes as she stood with hands on her hips, her blonde hair bouncing with every animated gesture. “You’re going to let me score again?”

You smirked, positioning yourself in front of the makeshift goal—a couple of old backpacks propped up against a tree. “I’m just warming up, Less. You’ll see, I’ll save every shot!”

The two of you had been best friends since you could remember, inseparable through childhood, and it was moments like these that solidified your bond. Alessia had a fierce determination, a spark that made her stand out, even among your group of friends. You admired her talent on the pitch and the way she could light up a room with her laughter.

As she took a deep breath, preparing to shoot, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. There was something deeper than friendship blossoming between you, but you brushed it aside, dismissing it as typical teenage feelings.

Fast forward a few years, and high school was in full swing. The innocence of childhood began to give way to the complexities of teenage life. Alessia was now the star of the football team, her skills catching the attention of scouts and peers alike.

You, on the other hand, were still figuring out your place. Football was a passion you shared but didn’t pursue seriously. Instead, you found solace in art and writing, often sketching scenes of you and Alessia on the pitch together.

One Friday night, you both attended a party at a friend’s house. The music was loud, and the atmosphere was electric. You watched as Alessia mingled with others, her laughter ringing in your ears, and suddenly, a pang of jealousy surged through you when you saw her chatting closely with another player from the team.

“Hey, you okay?” your friend asked, noticing your distant expression.

“Yeah, just…fine,” you replied, forcing a smile. But deep down, you felt a shift in your relationship with Alessia. You had developed feelings for her that were becoming harder to ignore, but with the way she was being pursued by everyone at the party, you felt like you were losing her.

Later that night, as the party began to wind down, you found Alessia sitting on the porch, gazing at the stars. You joined her, the silence between you heavy with unspoken words.

“Did you have fun?” she asked, her voice soft.

“Sure,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, I guess. Just…sometimes it feels overwhelming, you know?”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your own feelings pressing down on you. “I get that.”

“Hey, can I ask you something?” she said, breaking the silence.

“Of course.”

“Do you think we’ll always be friends? No matter what happens?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the stars.

“Always,” you promised, but inside, you feared that those words might not be enough to keep you together.

As the months passed, the tension between you and Alessia grew. She was busy with training, and college scouts were starting to show interest in her. You cheered her on from the sidelines, but every time you saw her with someone else—a teammate, a fellow student—your heart ached a little more.

One fateful day, you were sitting in the cafeteria, sketching in your notebook when Alessia plopped down beside you, her face aglow with excitement.

“I just got an offer to play for a club! It’s a huge opportunity!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“That’s amazing, Less!” you replied, forcing a smile as your heart sank. “When do you leave?”

“In a few months,” she said, her enthusiasm palpable.

You nodded, hiding your disappointment. “That’s…great. You deserve it.”

But as the weeks turned into months, the distance between you began to feel insurmountable. You watched her go through the motions of training, growing closer to her teammates, and your heart ached at the thought of her leaving for good.

One evening, you decided to confront her about how you felt. “Alessia, can we talk?” you asked, your voice shaky as you found her alone in the park.

“Sure, what’s up?” she replied, her expression curious.

“I don’t want you to go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like we’re drifting apart, and it scares me.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of understanding. “I don’t want to lose you either. But this is my dream, and I have to pursue it.”

“I know,” you said, feeling the tears prick at your eyes. “But I wish things were different. I wish we could just… be together.”

Alessia stepped closer, her gaze softening. “Maybe one day, we’ll figure it out. Just promise me you’ll support me no matter what.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of unspoken feelings hanging between you. “Always.”

As Alessia’s departure approached, you tried to immerse yourself in your own life, but the ache of missing her weighed heavily on your heart. When the day finally came, you stood at the train station, watching as she prepared to leave for her new club.

“Promise you’ll call?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Of course,” you replied, fighting back tears.

As she stepped onto the train, you felt a piece of your heart go with her. You watched until the train disappeared from view, the reality of your separation settling in.

The months that followed were filled with the void she left behind. You threw yourself into your studies and creative pursuits, but every time you picked up your phone, you hesitated to call her. You didn’t want to burden her with your feelings when she was chasing her dreams.

Meanwhile, Alessia thrived in her new environment. She was making a name for herself, and the distance only seemed to amplify the gap between you. You saw her on social media, celebrating goals, and getting to know new friends. Each post felt like a knife to your heart, a reminder that she was moving on without you.

One night, as you scrolled through your feed, you stumbled upon a picture of Alessia with another player, their arms wrapped around each other, laughter lighting up their faces. A wave of jealousy crashed over you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing her for good.

As the seasons changed, so did your lives. You both tried to keep in touch, but the conversations felt strained, filled with polite small talk instead of the deep connection you once shared.

One evening, you received a text from Alessia that made your heart race. “Hey, I’m coming home for a weekend! Can’t wait to see you!”

Your heart soared, but the excitement was quickly overshadowed by a sense of dread. What if things had changed too much? What if you couldn’t go back to the way things were?

When the day finally arrived, you found yourself pacing your room, nerves buzzing. You arrived at the park where you used to play, the familiar surroundings bringing a sense of nostalgia.

When you saw her walking towards you, your breath caught in your throat. Alessia looked different—more mature, more confident, and yet, that same spark was still there.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, running toward you and pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I missed you,” you said, feeling the warmth of her presence envelop you.

“I missed you too!” she replied, her eyes shining. “It feels like forever.”

As you spent the day together, you found yourselves slipping into your old rhythm, but the underlying tension was palpable. You both tried to mask it with laughter, but the reality of your feelings loomed over you.

“Have you been seeing anyone?” she asked, her voice casual but her eyes revealing a hint of vulnerability.

You hesitated, not wanting to hurt her. “A few dates here and there, but nothing serious.”

“Same,” she said, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I guess it’s hard with everything going on.”

That night, as you sat on the porch of your childhood home, you could feel the distance between you both, the untold words hanging in the air.

“Less, can I be honest?” you said, your heart racing. “I think about you all the time. It’s hard seeing you with someone else.”

Alessia’s eyes widened, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. “I feel the same way. I thought it was just me.”

Before you could process her words, the moment was interrupted by a notification on her phone. “I have to take this,” she said, her expression shifting as she answered a call from a teammate.

You watched as she stepped away, feeling the familiar pang of jealousy creep back in. It was a reminder that even with the feelings you both shared, life had pulled you in different directions.

The weekend flew by, filled with laughter and nostalgia, but the unresolved tension between you lingered. On the last night, as you sat together under the stars, you knew you had to confront your feelings once and for all.

“Alessia, I can’t keep pretending that this doesn’t matter to me,” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Her eyes widened, surprise etched on her face. “You…you love me?”

“I do,” you admitted, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “But I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, and I don’t want to hold you back from your dreams.”

Alessia’s expression softened, and she moved closer. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you. But I thought I was being selfish by wanting to have both—my dreams and you.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, a fragile moment of vulnerability shared between you. But just as you leaned in closer, her phone buzzed again, shattering the intimacy of the moment.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this,” she said, stepping away.

You felt the moment slip away, the fear creeping back in. You knew that timing had always been a hurdle for you both, and in that moment, it felt like fate was playing cruel tricks on you.

After that weekend, Alessia returned to her club, and the distance felt more pronounced than ever. You tried to focus on your own life, but the ache of missing her grew heavier. The phone calls became less frequent, and the messages felt shorter, filled with polite updates rather than the deep conversations you once shared.

One night, you received a text from her. “Hey, I’m seeing someone seriously now. I just thought you should know.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had prepared for this possibility, but knowing it was real hurt more than you could have imagined.

“Okay,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “I’m happy for you.”

But deep down, you felt the sting of betrayal and loss. You thought you had a chance, and now it felt like you were losing her all over again.

Days turned into weeks, and you drowned your sorrows in your art, pouring your heart into every sketch and every brushstroke. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the feeling that the one person you wanted most was slipping further away.

Months passed, and you found a new normal, but the void Alessia left in your life was still palpable. You tried to move on, but every time you heard her name or saw her play on television, your heart ached with longing.

Then, one fateful day, you found out that Alessia would be back in town for a charity match. Your heart raced at the thought of seeing her again, but the fear of the unresolved feelings lingered.

When you arrived at the event, the atmosphere was charged with excitement. You watched as Alessia interacted with fans, her laughter echoing in your ears, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed.

But as the match began, you noticed her glancing toward the stands, her eyes searching for someone. It was then that you saw her with someone else—a player from her team, their chemistry undeniable. The sight twisted your stomach into knots.

After the match, you approached her, heart pounding. “Alessia!”

She turned, her eyes lighting up. “You made it!” She rushed over, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“It’s so good to see you,” you said, feeling the warmth of her presence wash over you.

But the moment was quickly cut short when her teammate approached, wrapping an arm around Alessia’s shoulder. “Hey, we’re heading to grab some food. You coming?”

You watched as Alessia glanced between you and her friend, the tension palpable. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” she replied, her gaze lingering on you.

As they walked away, you felt a mix of heartbreak and frustration. You wanted to scream out how you felt, to tell her that you were still here, still waiting.

After the event, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. You decided to text Alessia, hoping for a chance to talk. “Can we meet up? There’s something I need to say.”

When you finally saw her, the familiar flutter of nerves coursed through you. “What’s going on?” she asked, her expression curious yet wary.

“Alessia, I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” you began, your heart racing. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with just being friends. I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you again.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. “I’ve felt the same way, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I had to choose my career over my feelings for you.”

“But you don’t have to choose,” you implored, stepping closer. “We can make this work. I believe we can have both.”

As you spoke, you could see the conflict in her eyes. “I want to, but what if it doesn’t work out? What if we lose everything?’’

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” you said, your voice steady. “But I can’t stand to lose you without trying.”

Alessia’s gaze softened, and you could see the walls she built around her heart beginning to crumble. “Okay. Let’s give it a shot.”

As you both navigated this new phase of your relationship, there were challenges and obstacles to face. Balancing her football career and your own passions was difficult, but you both made a conscious effort to prioritize each other.

You attended her matches, cheering from the stands, and she came to your art exhibits, supporting your creative endeavors. With every shared moment, you felt the bond between you deepen.

But the road was not without bumps. There were times when scheduling conflicts arose, and the pressure of her career weighed heavily on her. You could see the toll it took, and the fear of losing her again crept in.

One night, after a particularly grueling week for Alessia, she sat on the couch, her head in her hands. “I don’t know how to do this anymore,” she admitted, her voice shaky.

“Hey, you’re doing great. Just take a breath,” you said, moving closer to her. “We can figure it out together.”

“I feel like I’m constantly being pulled in different directions,” she confessed, tears brimming in her eyes. “I don’t want to disappoint you or my team.”

“You won’t disappoint me,” you reassured her, wiping away a tear. “I’m here for you, no matter what.”

As you held her close, the weight of her struggles felt lighter. You both understood that love was not just about the good times; it was also about supporting each other through the challenges.

As the seasons changed, so did your relationship. You both learned to communicate openly, sharing fears and dreams, and the bond you forged felt unbreakable.

One evening, as you stood on the pitch where it all began, Alessia turned to you. “You know, I never thought I could have both my dreams and you,” she said, her voice filled with emotion.

“Neither did I,” you replied, smiling at her. “But we’ve proven that timing doesn’t have to dictate our happiness. We can make it work.”

Alessia stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I love you, Y/n. I’m so grateful for you.”

“I love you too,” you said, pulling her in for a kiss, feeling the warmth of her presence wash over you.

As you stood together under the stars, you knew that despite the challenges, you had found a way to navigate the complexities of life and love together. Timing may have been a hurdle, but you were ready to face whatever came next as a team.

_________________________________________________

The End.

[steddilystranger]

blue butterfly (a life is strange au)

blue butterfly is a story-based fic that features reader choice. the consequences of your collective choices will affect the past, present, and future. the poll, with a duration of one week, is below the cut. choose wisely...

masterlist || part one (you are here) || cw: homophobic language, character death

Wind whips against Steve’s face. He struggles through the storm.

Where am I? he thinks to himself. What’s happening?

A light cuts through his rain-soaked world, and Steve wheels on his heel. “The lighthouse!” he says aloud, droplets of rain seeping through his hair and clothes. “I just have to make it there!” 

He ignores the feeling in his gut that is pulling him back to the town and stumbles forward, wiping the rain from his eyes periodically. He gets close to the base of the lighthouse, breaking out of all the trees, and finally sees the storm for the first time. 

Holy fucking shit. 

It can only be described as a cross between a hurricane and a tornado. It must be miles high, sweeping towards the small town of Hawkins below. 

As Steve watches, the strong winds whisk a boat from the bay below and slam it into the top of the lighthouse. Debris crumbles down, heading straight for Steve’s head.

Steve sits forward, gasping for breath quietly. 

A dream. 

That’s all it was. 

Realistic dream, horrifyingly so, but a dream nonetheless.

His professor, Dr. Brenner, is pacing around the classroom, talking animatedly with his hands. “Photography is subjective. I could frame any one of you in a dark room, watching you turn from the light to the dark.”

Vickie’s phone buzzes. Someone throws a ball of paper at that Byers kid, Jonathan.

Steve glances up at the clock, noticing it’s getting close to the end of class. He starts to subtly slip his Polaroid camera into the case, but accidentally hits the button, causing the flash to go off in his face. All eyes are drawn to him. 

“I believe Steve has taken what you young people call a ‘selfie’”. Brenner says. “I hate that word. Sounds so unrefined for what is a classical photography technique. Mr. Harrington, can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

Steve doesn’t want to talk out of his ass, especially not in front of this room of pretentious art nerds. He’s only taking this class because Robin thought it’d be good for him, especially after he got kicked off the basketball team. One too many concussions is apparently where the coach drew the line. 

He shakes his head, and Brenner tuts disappointedly. “If you had done the assigned reading last night, you’d know.”  Vickie raises her hand. ”Vickie?”

 She answers it perfectly. “A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” 

“Very good!” Dr. Brenner congratulates her. “Yes, precisely.” 

The bell rings and everyone stands up to leave, Dr. Brenner’s voice rising above the clamor. “I’m expecting your photographs for the Everyday Hero contest by this Friday! Jeff, that means you. Jonathan, thanks for your submission. And yes, Steve, I see you pretending not to see me.” 

Steve steps out into the hallway, sidling around groups of people. He passes by the notice board and takes a cursory glance at it, noting the new poster pinned up. There’s been a poster up for the missing Byers twins, William and Eleanor, for a couple months now, but now a new missing poster. Chrissy Cunningham. 

He knows Chrissy. 

Not well, of course, but she had gone to school around here back when Steve’s family lived here, before he’d moved away to Seattle. He hadn’t seen her since he transferred back to come to Blackwell, but he didn’t know she was missing. 

Someone bumps into his shoulder roughly, and Steve disappears into the blissfully empty bathroom and takes a breath. 

A movement catches his eye. A blue butterfly flutters in through the open window. 

Robin’s always saying I should “capture the moment”, Steve thinks to himself, drawing his camera out of his bag. Fine. Captured.

He snaps a picture of the blue butterfly as it lands on the small lock of the shitty stall doors, opening and closing its wings lazily, as if putting on a show just for him. 

The door slams open behind him and Steve reflexively dodges into the stall, muffling his breath with his hand. He peers through the crack in between the stall and the door. The butterfly flutters out the top of the stall and away. 

The back of someone dressed in leather and chains, with long, curly hair, is to him. They’re facing someone who Steve unfortunately recognizes. 

Billy Hargrove. 

“You bitch!” he spits. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you!” 

“What?” the mysterious boy taunts, gravelly and low, and Steve thinks he sounds familiar, even though he can’t put his finger on why. “Mad that I cut you off, Hargrove?”

Billy shoves the boy. “I’m paying you money, fag, why do you give a damn how I use the shit I bought?”

“Because I saw you giving it to kids, asshole!” he retorts right back. “And I got it on tape. So you can either fork over some cash and the remainder of the shit I sold you, or I take this to the cops.” 

There’s a sharp breath, and the glint of something metal suddenly hits Steve’s eye. 

Billy’s aiming a handgun at the boy. 

“You are pissing me off.” he grunts, and Steve knows enough about guns to see that the safety’s off. “I bet no one would even miss you, queer!” 

The boy backpedals, letting Billy eclipse Steve’s sliver of view. He’s clutching his hand to his mouth, feeling his nails dig sharp crescent moons into his cheek. 

He can’t just sit here. 

Steve slams the door open, hand outstretched, prepared to snarl at Billy to get the fuck away from him, but the sound startles him, and the gun goes off. 

Right into the boy’s stomach.

The world turns black and white, silent save for a ringing in his ears. 

Someone died. 

Someone died and Steve was too cowardly to stop it.

And then he’s back in class.

Brenner’s talking. “Photography is subjective. I could frame any one of you in a dark room, watching you turn from the light to the dark.” he says. 

I heard this lecture already. Steve thinks. Wait, no. Calm down, Harrington. This is just…serious deja vu. 

Vickie’s phone buzzes, and Steve watches someone throw a paper ball at Jonathan. His hand slips and knocks his camera off his desk. It shatters, pieces scattering all over the ground. 

Fuck. Robin bought him that. 

Hesitantly, Steve reaches out his hand, and it’s like the world moves in reverse around him. His camera pieces levitate off the ground, fitting themselves back together, and the whole camera, now intact, settles itself back on his desk.

Holy shit. 

Steve cannot process this. He watches the same things happen, Vickie’s phone and the paper ball, and stares at his hands. 

Purposefully this time, he picks up his camera and snaps a picture of himself. 

Brenner wheels on him. “I believe Steve has taken what you young people call a ‘selfie’. I hate that word. Sounds so unrefined for what is a classical photography technique. Mr. Harrington, can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

Steve sits up straighter, trying to remember what Vickie said last time. “Uh, the… Daguerre process?” 

Brenner laughs. “Close! Vickie, would you like to help him out?” 

“A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” she says. 

Steve reaches out his hand again. The world warps and inverts. “Mr. Harrington,” Brenner says again, “can you tell me the process that gave birth to the first self-portraits?” 

“A French painter called Louis Daguerre created the process called the Daguerreotype that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.” Steve parrots Vickie, and feels a swell of victory in his chest when Brenner beams. 

He also feels a swell of nausea. He’s gone back in time, what, three times now? What’s happening?

The bell rings and Steve sweeps his stuff into his bag. He begins mouthing along to Brenner’s speech. “I’m expecting your photographs for the Everyday Hero contest by this Friday! Jeff, that means you. Jonathan, thanks for your submission.” 

Steve dodges into the hallway. “And yes, Steve, I see you pretending not to see me.” he mutters as Brenner finishes his spiel. 

Everything’s the same as Steve slips through the crowd. The missing posters, the conversation snippets, the bathroom being empty. 

The butterfly’s gone, though. Steve doesn’t know what to make of that. 

He folds himself into his hiding spot early, waiting. 

Right on cue, the door slams open and Billy comes in with that mysterious boy. 

They begin to argue again, and Steve leans forward. If this really isn’t a dream, and if Steve waits too long again, the boy will die. Again. 

Steve can’t let that happen.

[taylorswiftandx]

Taylor Swift and Your

Note: huge thank you to @meandmypagancrew for collaborating with me on the lyrics for this post!

'Taylor Swift'

Tim McGraw: Think of my head on your chest

Tim McGraw: I’m standing on your street and there’s a letter left on your doorstep

Picture to Burn: I realize you love yourself more than you could ever love me

Picture to Burn: So go and tell your friends that I’m obsessive and crazy

Picture to Burn: There’s nothing stopping me from going out with all of your best friends

Picture to Burn: If you’re missing me, you’d better keep it to yourself cause coming back around here would be bad for your health

Tied Together With A Smile: Seems the only one who doesn’t see your beauty is the face in the mirror looking back at you

Stay Beautiful: I hope your life leads you back to my door

Stay Beautiful: I hope your life leads you back to my front door

Should’ve Said No: I should’ve been there in the back of your mind

Mary’s Song (Oh My My): Your eyes still shined little pretty lights

Mary’s Song (Oh My My): 2 AM riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

Our Song: Sneaking out late, tapping on your window

Our Song: When we’re on the phone and you talk real slow cause it’s late and your mama don’t know

I’m Only Me When I’m With You: Friday night beneath the stars in a field beneath your yard

Invisible: She can’t see the way your eyes light up when you smile

Invisible: I just wanna open your eyes and make you realize

A Perfectly Good Heart: And realized by the distance in your eyes that I would be the one to fall

'Fearless (Taylor's Version)'

Fearless: Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you

Fearless: I wanna stay right here in this passenger’s seat, you put your eyes on me, in this moment now capture it, remember it 

Fifteen: It’s the morning of your very first day

Fifteen: You say “Hi” to your friends you ain’t seen in awhile

Fifteen: It’s your freshman year and you’re gonna be here for the next four years in this town

Fifteen: And then you’re on your very first date and he’s got a car and you’re feeling like flying

Fifteen: And your mama’s waiting up and you’re thinking he’s the one and you’re dancing ‘round the room when the night ends

Fifteen: When you’re fifteen and your first kiss makes your head spin round

Fifteen: But in your life you’ll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team

Fifteen: Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now

Fifteen: Your very first day, take a deep breath, girl

Love Story: See you make your way through the crowd and say “Hello”

Love Story: So close your eyes, escape this town for a little while

Love Story: I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

Hey Stephen: Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window, I’ll be the one waiting there even when it’s cold

White Horse: Now it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around

White Horse: Maybe I was naïve, got lost in your eyes

White Horse: And there you are on your knees, begging for forgiveness, begging for me

White Horse: Cause I’m not your princess, this ain’t a fairytale

White Horse: And it’s too late for you and your white horse, now it’s too late for you and your white horse to catch me now

You Belong With Me: You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

You Belong With Me: She’s going off about something that you said 'cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

You Belong With Me: She’ll never know your story like I do

You Belong With Me: Walk in the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

You Belong With Me: Standing by and waiting at your backdoor

You Belong With Me: I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams

Breathe: I see your face in my mind as I drive away

Tell Me Why: I’m sick and tired of your attitude

Tell Me Why: And here’s to you and your temper

Tell Me Why: I’m sick and tired of your reasons

You’re Not Sorry: You got your share of secrets and I’m tired of being last to know

The Way I Loved You: It’s 2 AM and I’m cursing your name

Forever & Always: I believe it was a Tuesday when I caught your eye

Forever & Always: It rains in your bedroom, everything is wrong

Forever & Always: I looked into your eyes, thought I knew you for a minute, now I’m not so sure

The Best Day: I hear your laugh and you look up smiling at you

The Best Day: I hug your legs and fall asleep on the way home

The Best Day: And I love you for giving me your eyes

Change: But there’s something in your eyes says we can beat this

Change: It’s a revolution, throw your hands up

Jump Then Fall: We’re on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Jump Then Fall: Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face

Jump Then Fall: I love each freckle on your face

Jump Then Fall: When people say things that bring you to your knees, I’ll catch you

Untouchable: It’s like a million little stars spelling out your name

Untouchable: Like a million little stars spelling on your name, spelling out your name, oh

Come In With The Rain: I know all the steps up to your door but I don’t wanna go there anymore

Come In With The Rain: I’m too tired at night to call your name

Come In With The Rain: Talk to yourself, talk to the tears

Come In With The Rain: I’ve watched you so long, screamed your name

SuperStar: I can’t help but wish I could see your face

SuperStar: You smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row scream your name

SuperStar: I knew when I saw your face I’d be counting down the ways to see you

The Other Side Of The Door: With your face and the beautiful eyes

The Other Side Of The Door: You carry me from your car up the stairs

Today Was A Fairytale: Nothing made sense ‘til the first time I saw your face

You All Over Me: But like the dollar in your pocket that’s been spent and traded in, you can’t change where it’s been

You All Over Me: With your hands in your pockets and your “don’t you wish you had me” grin

Mr. Perfectly Fine: Mr. every single day until the end I will be by your side

Mr. Perfectly Fine: How’s your heart after breaking mine?

Mr. Perfectly Fine: I’ve been Miss misery since your goodbye

Mr. Perfectly Fine: So dignified in your well pressed suit

Mr. Perfectly Fine: Sashay your way to your seat

We Were Happy: You threw your arms around my neck, back when I deserved it

We Were Happy: Talking ‘bout your daddy’s farm we were gonna buy someday

That’s When: When I see your face I’ll let you in

That’s When: Then through the phone came all your tears

That’s When: That’s when, when I saw your face

Bye Bye Baby: All I have is your sympathy

Bye Bye Baby: I see your writing on the dash, then back to your hesitation

Bye Bye Baby: Feels like I’m becoming a part of your past

'Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)’

Mine: You put your arm around me for the first time

Mine: There’s a drawer of my things at your place

Sparks Fly: I’ll run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild

Sparks Fly: Just keep on keeping your eyes on me, it’s just wrong enough to make it feel right

Back to December: How’s life? Tell me, how’s your family?

Back to December: Your guard is up and I know why

Back to December: Because the last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind

Back to December: When your birthday passed and I didn’t call

Back to December: You gave me all your love and all I gave you was “Goodbye”

Back to December: I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right

Back to December: And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry

Back to December: So if the chain is on your door, I understand

Speak Now: I sneak in and see your friends and her snotty little family all dressed in pastel

Speak Now: I am hiding in the curtains, it seems that I was uninvited by your lovely bride-to-be

Speak Now: Your time is running out and they said, “Speak now”

Speak Now: I hear the preacher say, “Speak now or forever hold your peace”

Dear John: And I lived in your chess game but you changed the rules everyday

Dear John: Or maybe it’s you and your sick need to give love then take it away

Dear John: You’ll add my name to your long list of traitors who don’t understand

Dear John: Don’t you think nineteen’s too young to be played by your dark, twisted games when I loved you so?

Dear John: Never impressed by me acing your tests

Dear John: But I took your matches before fire could catch me so don’t look now

Dear John: I’m shining like fireworks over your sad empty town

Mean: You, with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me

Mean: You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard, calling me out when I’m wounded

Mean: You, with your switching sides and your wildfire lies and your humiliation 

The Story Of Us: You’re doing your best to avoid me

The Story Of Us: You held your pride like you should have held me

The Story Of Us: The battle’s in your hands now, but I would lay my armor down if you said you’d rather love than fight

Never Grow Up: Your little hand’s wrapped around my finger and it’s so quiet in the world tonight

Never Grow Up: Your little eyelids flutter cause you’re dreaming so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

Never Grow Up: I won’t let nobody hurt you, won’t let no one break your heart

Never Grow Up: You’re in the car on the way to the movies and you’re mortified your mom’s dropping you off

Never Grow Up: At fourteen there’s just so much you can’t do and you can’t wait to move out someday and call your own shots

Never Grow Up: And don’t lose the way that you dance around in your PJs getting ready for school

Never Grow Up: Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room

Never Grow Up: Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home

Never Grow Up: Remember the footsteps, remember the words said and all your little brother’s favorite songs

Enchanted: Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face

Enchanted: Your eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

Enchanted: Across the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me

Enchanted: The playful conversation starts, counter all your quick remarks like passing notes in secrecy 

Enchanted: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again

Better Than Revenge: I’m just another thing for you to roll your eyes at, honey

Innocent: I guess you really did it this time, left yourself in your warpath

Innocent: Lost your balance on a tightrope, lost your mind trying to get it back

Innocent: Wasn’t it easier in your lunchbox days? Always a bigger bed to crawl into

Innocent: It’s all right, just wait and see, your string of lights is still bright to me, oh

Innocent: Wasn’t it easier in your firefly-catching days?

Innocent: Lost your balance on a tightrope, oh, it’s never too late to get it back

Haunted: Something’s made your eyes go cold

Last Kiss: I still remember the look on your face, lit through the darkness at 1:58

Last Kiss: The beat of your heart, it jumps through your shirt, I can still feel your arms

Last Kiss: But now I’ll go sit on the floor wearing your clothes

Last Kiss: Your name, forever the name on my lips

Last Kiss: I do remember the swing of your step

Last Kiss: Because I love your handshake, meeting my father

Last Kiss: I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets

Last Kiss: So I’ll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep

Last Kiss: You can plan for a chance in weather and time but I never planned on you changing your mind

Long Live: You held your head like a hero on a history book page

Long Live: We are the kings and the queens, you traded your baseball cap for a crown

Long Live: I was screaming, “Long live that look on your face”

Long Live: And long, long live that look on your face

Ours: So don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine

Ours: Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me

Ours: And you’ll say, don’t you worry your pretty little mind

Ours: Your hands are tough but they are where mine belong

Ours: ‘Cause I love the gap between your teeth

Ours: Any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored, cause my heart is yours

Electric Touch: Just an hour ‘til your car’s in the driveway

Electric Touch: Got a feeling your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life

Electric Touch: I want you now, want to need you forever in the heat of your electric touch

Electric Touch: Got a feeling your electric touch

When Emma Falls In Love: ‘Cause she’ll call you out, she’ll put you in your place

I Can See You: If you only knew, oh-oh, oh, oh, that I can see you throw your jacket on the floor

I Can See You: I could see you in your suit and your necktie

I Can See You: And I could see you throw your jacket on the floor

Foolish One: My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Foolish One: And the voices say, “You are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson”

Foolish One: Foolish one, stop checking your mailbox for confessions of love that ain’t never gonna come

Foolish One: ‘Cause when my head is on your shoulder, it starts thinking you’ll come around

Foolish One: But then the voices say, “You are not the exception, you will never learn your lesson”

Foolish One: ‘Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

Foolish One: I’ll get your longing glances, but she’ll get your ring

Foolish One: Foolish one, the day is gonna come for your confessions of love, when all is said and done

Timeless: I would’ve read your love letters every single night and prayed to god you’d be coming home all right

Timeless: If I first saw your face in the 1500s off in a foreign land and I was forced to marry another man

Timeless: I would have read your love letters every single night and run away and left it all behind

Timeless: Time breaks down your mind and body, don’t let it touch your soul

'Red (Taylor's Version)'

State Of Grace: Up in your room and our slates are clean

Red: Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you’re already flying through the free fall

Red: Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song

Treacherous: Put your lips close to mine as long as they don’t touch

Treacherous: I’ll do anything you say if you say it with your hands

Treacherous: Your name has echoed through my mind

I Knew You Were Trouble: I was in your sights, you got me alone

I Knew You Were Trouble: A new notch in your belt is all I’ve ever be

All Too Well: I left my scarf there at your sister’s house and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now

All Too Well: Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze

All Too Well: Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red

All Too Well: Your mother’s telling stories about you on the tee ball team

All Too Well: You taught me ‘bout your past, thinking your future was me

All Too Well: After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

I Almost Do: I bet you’re sitting in your chair by the window looking at out at the city

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: You go talk to your friends, talk to my friends, talk to me

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: And you would hide away and find your peace of mind

The Last Time: I find myself at your door, just like all those times before

The Last Time: I imagine you at home, in your room, all alone

The Last Time: And you open your eyes into mine

The Last Time: And right before your eyes, I’m breaking

The Last Time: Put my name at the top of your list

The Last Time: You find yourself at my door, and just like all those times before, you wear your best apology

The Last Time: And right before your eyes, I’m aching

Holy Ground: And I see your face in every crowd

Sad Beautiful Tragic: Long, handwritten notes deep in your pocket

Sad Beautiful Tragic: I stood right by the tracks, your face in a locket

Sad Beautiful Tragic: And you’ve got your demons, and, darling, they all look like me

The Lucky One: Now it’s big black cards and Riviera views and your lover in the foyer doesn’t even know you

The Lucky One: And your secrets end up splashed on the news front page

The Lucky One: All the young things line up to take your place

The Lucky One: They still tell the legend of how you disappeared, how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out

Everything Has Changed: All I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago is green eyes and freckles and your smile

Everything Has Changed: Your eyes look like coming home

Everything Has Changed: You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours

Everything Has Changed: So dust off your highest hopes

Everything Has Changed: All my days I’ll know your face

Starlight: He said, “Look at you, worrying too much about things you can’t change, you’ll spend your whole life singing the blues if you keep thinking that way”

Begin Again: And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

Begin Again: But you start to talk about the movies that your family watches every single Christmas and I want to talk to about that

The Moment I Knew: Now I just wanna be alone but your close friends always seem to know when there’s something really wrong

The Moment I Knew: What do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of everyone you know?

Come Back… Be Here: One last kiss, then catch your flight

Girl At Home: I see you turn off your phone

Girl At Home: Call a cab, lose my number, you’re about to lose your girl

Girl At Home: I wanna see you pick up your phone and tell her you’re coming home

Ronan: I remember your bare feet down the hallway

Ronan: I remember your little laugh

Ronan: I remember your blue eyes looking into mine, like we had our own secret club

Ronan: I remember the last day when I kissed your face and whispered in your ear

Ronan: What if I’m standing in your closet trying to talk to you?

Ronan: I remember your bare feet down the hallway

Better Man: And it was always on your terms

Better Man: But your jealousy, oh, I can hear it now

Nothing New: Girls, go out and have your fun

Nothing New: When you can’t blame it on my youth and roll your eyes with affection

Nothing New: Are we only biding time ‘til I lose your attention?

Babe: What about your promises, promises?

Babe: What about your promises, promises. Promises?

Babe: And it’s strange how your face doesn’t look so innocent

Babe: Your secret has its consequence, and that’s on you, babe

Babe: Her lips on your neck, I can’t unsee it

Message In A Bottle: But time moves faster, replaying your laughter

I Bet You Think About Me: I bet you’re just fine, fast asleep in your city that’s better than mine

I Bet You Think About Me: And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree and I’ll bet your friends tell you she’s better than me

I Bet You Think About Me: Well, I tried to fit in with your upper-crust circles

I Bet You Think About Me: You laughed at my dreams, rolled your eyes at my jokes

I Bet You Think About Me: I don’t have to be your shrink to know that you’ll never be happy

I Bet You Think About Me: Now you’re out in the world, searching for your soul

I Bet You Think About Me: I bet you think about me when you’re out at your cool indie music concerts every week

I Bet You Think About Me: I bet you think about me in your house with your organic shoes and your million dollar couch

Forever Winter: If I was standing there in your apartment, I’d take that bomb in your head and disarm it

Forever Winter: I’d say I love you even at your darkest and please don’t go

Forever Winter: I’ll be your summer sun forever

Run: There’s a chain ‘round your throat

Run: Pale blue sky reflected in your eyes

Run: And the note from the locket, you keep it in your pocket

Run: There’s a heart on your sleeve, I’ll take it when I leave

All Too Well (10 Minute Version): I was never good at telling jokes but the punchline goes, “I’ll get older, but your lovers stay my age”

All Too Well (10 Minute Version): From when your Brooklyn broke my skin and bones

'1989 (Taylor's Version)'

Blank Space: Grab your passport and my hand

Blank Space: I’ve got a blank space, baby, and I’ll write your name

Blank Space: You’re the king, baby, I’m your queen

Style: You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye

Out Of The Woods: We were lying on your couch, I remember

Out Of The Woods: Your necklace hanging from my neck

All You Had To Do Was Stay: Had me in the palm of your hand

I Wish You Would: It’s 2 AM in your car

I Wish You Would: See your face, hear my voice in the dark

Bad Blood: Did you think we’d be fine? Still got scars on my back from your knife

Wildest Dreams: Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just in your wildest dreams

How You Get The Girl: Broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

How You Get The Girl: Tell her how you must have lost your mind

This Love: Your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave

This Love: Your smile, my ghost, I fell to my knees

I Know Places: You stand with your hand on my waistline

I Know Places: In the dead of night, your eyes so green

Wonderland: Didn’t you flash your green eyes at me?

Wonderland: I felt your arms twisting around me

You Are In Love: The light reflects the chain on your neck

You Are In Love: He says “Look up” and your shoulders brush

You Are In Love: For once, you let you go of your fears and your ghosts

"Slut!": Half asleep, taking your time in the tangerine neon light

"Slut!": Half awake, taking your chances, it's a big mistake

"Slut!": I said, "It might blow up in your pretty face"

Say Don't Go: Now your silence has me screaming, screaming

Say Don't Go: And I'm yours, but you're not mine

Now That We Don't Talk: You grew your hair long

Now That We Don't Talk: I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost and what it cost

Now That We Don't Talk: What do you tell your friends we shared dinners, long weekends with?

Suburban Legends: Tick-tock on the clock, I pace down your block

Is It Over Now?: I see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters

Is It Over Now?: Was it over when she laid down on your couch?

Is It Over Now?: "Come here," I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out

Is It Over Now?: Your new girl is my clone

Sweeter Than Fiction: Seen you fall, seen you crawl on your knees, eh eh

Sweeter Than Fiction: Seen you lost in a crowd, seen your colors fade

Sweeter Than Fiction: Your eyes, wider the distance

Sweeter Than Fiction: All you got, all you got are your shattered hopes

Sweeter Than Fiction: And when they call your name and they put your picture in a frame, you know that I’ll be there time and again

'reputation'

End Game: I wanna be your end game

End Game: I wanna be your first string

End Game: I wanna be your A-Team

End Game: I wanna be your end game, end game

End Game: For all your beautiful traits and the way you do it with ease

End Game: I can’t let you go, your hand prints on my soul

End Game: It’s like your eyes are liquor, it’s like your body is gold

Don’t Blame Me: I’m insane, but I’m your baby

Don’t Blame Me: Echoes of your name inside my mind

Don’t Blame Me: I once was poison ivy, but now I’m your daisy

Don’t Blame Me: I would fall from grace just to touch your face

Delicate: Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you

Delicate: Long night, with your hands up in my hair

Delicate: Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs

Delicate: Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you’re mine all the damn time

Look What You Made Me Do: I don’t like your little games

Look What You Made Me Do: Don’t like your tilted stage

Look What You Made Me Do: I don’t like your perfect crime

Look What You Made Me Do: I’ve got a list of names and yours is in red underlined

Look What You Made Me Do: I don’t like your kingdom keys

Look What You Made Me Do: Maybe I got mine but you’ll all get yours

Look What You Made Me Do: I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

So It Goes…: Lipstick on your face

So It Goes…: I’m yours to keep and I’m yours to lose

So It Goes…: All eyes on me, your illusionist

So It Goes…: I make all your gray days clear

So It Goes…: But I got your heart skippin’, skip, skippin’ when I’m gone

So It Goes…: Scratches down your back now

Gorgeous: You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong

Gorgeous: I can’t say anything to your face, ‘cause look at your face

Getaway Car: I struck a match and blew your mind

Getaway Car: There were sirens in the beat of your heart 

King Of My Heart: Salute to me, I’m your American Queen

King Of My Heart: Your love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

King Of My Heart: The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury 

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: I could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Picture of your face in an invisible locket

Dress: Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Dress: Carve your name into my bedpost

Dress: Flashback when you met me, your buzz cut and my hair bleached

Dress: I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side

New Year’s Day: I want your midnights, but I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day

'Lover'

I Forgot That You Existed: Your name on my lips, tongue-tied

I Forgot That You Existed: Would’ve been right there, front row, even if nobody came to your show

Cruel Summer: And it’s new, the shape of your body

Cruel Summer: Hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine

Lover: My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

Lover: And you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

The Archer: I search for your dark side

Paper Rings: The moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met

Paper Rings: Now I’ve read all of the books beside your bed

Paper Rings: Which takes me back to the color that we painted your brother’s wall

Paper Rings: Three times cause you waited your whole life

Paper Rings: I want your complications too

Paper Rings: I want your dreary Mondays

Paper Rings: Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

Cornelia Street: And baby, I get mystified by how this city screams your name

Cornelia Street: Jacket round my shoulders is yours

Cornelia Street: But then you called, showed your hand

Death By A Thousand Cuts: Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

London Boy: Stick with me, I’m your queen

False God: Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town

False God: Religion’s in your lips

You Need To Calm Down: And I ain’t tryna to mess with your self expression

You Need To Calm Down: You just need to take several seats and then try to restore the peace and control your urges to scream about all the people you hate

Afterglow: I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Afterglow: It’s on your face, and I’m to blame

Afterglow: It’s on your face, don’t walk away

Afterglow: Tell me that I’m all you want even when I break your heart

ME!: Living in winter, I am your summer

Daylight: Back and forth from New York, sneaking in your bed

'folklore'

The 1: Having adventures on your own

The 1: Rosé flowing with your chosen family

Cardigan: Dancing in your Levi’s, drunk under a streetlight

Cardigan: You put me on and said I was your favorite

Cardigan: Playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends

Cardigan: Your heartbeat on the High Line, once in twenty lifetimes

Exile: I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body

Exile: I can see you staring, honey, like he’s just your understudy

Exile: Like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile: I’m not your problem anymore, so who am I offending now?

Exile: I never learned to read your mind

My Tears Ricochet: But you would still miss me in your bones

My Tears Ricochet: You turned into your worst fears

Mirrorball: I’ll show you every version of yourself tonight

Seven: Cross your heart, won’t tell no other

Seven: And though I can’t recall your face, I still got love for you

Seven: Your braids like a pattern

Seven: I think your house is haunted

Seven: Your dad is always mad and that must be why

Seven: Pack your dolls and a sweater, we’ll move to India forever

August: Salt air and the rust on your door

August: Your back beneath the sun, wishing I could write my name on it

This Is Me Trying: Maybe I don’t quite know what to say but I’m here in your doorway

Illicit Affairs: Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Illicit Affairs: Tell your friends you’re out for a run

Illicit Affairs: Tell yourself you can always stop

Invisible String: Teal was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the yogurt shop

Invisible String: Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA

Mad Woman: What do you sing on your drive home?

Mad Woman: And you find something to wrap your noose around

Mad Woman: My cannons all firing at your yacht

Mad Woman: Women like hunting witches too, doing your dirtiest work for you

Epiphany: Keep your helmet, keep your life, son

Epiphany: Just a flesh wound, here’s your rifle

Epiphany: Holds your hand through plastic now

Betty: I won’t make assumptions about why you switched your homeroom but I think it’s ‘cause of me

Betty: One time I was riding on my skateboard when I passed your house, it’s like I couldn’t breathe

Betty: But if I just showed up at your party, would you have me?

Betty: I know where it all went wrong, your favorite song was playing from the far side of the gym

Betty: Betty, I’m here on your doorstep

Betty: So I showed up at your party

Betty: Yeah, I showed up at your party

Betty: Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?

Betty: Will it patch your broken wings?

Betty: Standing in your cardigan

Peace: But I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm

Peace: If your cascade ocean wave blues come

Peace: Your integrity makes me seem small

Peace: It’s like I’m wasting your honor

Peace: Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Hoax: Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in

Hoax: My best laid plan, your sleight of hand

Hoax: I am ash from your fire

'evermore'

Willow: I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Willow: I never would have known from the look on your face

Willow: Lost in your current like a priceless wine

Willow: Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Willow: I guess I should’ve known from the look on your face

Champagne Problems: I dropped your hand while dancing

Champagne Problems: Your mom’s ring in your pocket

Champagne Problems: My picture in your wallet

Champagne Problems: Your heart was glass, I dropped it

Champagne Problems: You told your family for a reason

Champagne Problems: Your sister splashed out on the bottle

Champagne Problems: Your hometown skeptics called it champagne problems

Champagne Problems: Love slipped beyond your reaches

Champagne Problems: Your Midas touch on the Chevy door, November flush and your flannel cure

Champagne Problems: She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred and hold your hand while dancing

Champagne Problems: Her picture in your wallet

Gold Rush: I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Gold Rush: With your hair falling into place like dominoes

Gold Rush: I see me padding across your wooden floors

Gold Rush: At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit

Gold Rush: My mind turns your life into folklore

Gold Rush: At dinner parties, I won’t call you out on your contrarian shit

‘Tis The Damn Season: Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

‘Tis The Damn Season: Now I’m missing your smile

‘Tis The Damn Season: I’ll be yours for the weekend

Tolerate It: I sit and watch you reading with your head low

Tolerate It: I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed

Tolerate It: Use my best colors for your portrait

Tolerate It: I take your indiscretions all in good fun

Tolerate It: Now I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Happiness: Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?

Happiness: I hope she’ll be your beautiful fool, who takes my spot next to you

Happiness: I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night

Happiness: Now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head

Dorothea: The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo

Dorothea: When it was calmer, skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes

Coney Island: Disappointments, close your eyes

Coney Island: Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray?

Coney Island: When I got into the accident, the sight that flashed before me was your face

Coney Island: When I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your name

Ivy: Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow

Ivy: My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Ivy: My house of story, your ivy grows and now I’m covered in you

Ivy: Your opal eyes are all I wish to see

Ivy: He wants what’s only yours

Cowboy Like Me: You had some tricks up your sleeves

Cowboy Like Me: With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con

Long Story Short: If the shoe fits, walk in it ‘til your high heels break

Long Story Short: When I dropped my sword, I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door

Long Story Short: And my waves meet your shore, ever and evermore

Long Story Short: Your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

Marjorie: Never be so polite, you forget your power

Marjorie: Watched as you signed your name, "Marjorie"

Marjorie: All your closets of backlogged dreams and how you left them all to me

Closure: Seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain

Closure: Yes, I got your letter

Closure: I know that it’s over, I don’t need your closure, your closure

Closure: I know I’m just a wrinkle in your new life

It’s Time To Go: Not a twin from your dreams, she’s a crook who was caught

It’s Time To Go: The snaps from the same little breaks in your soul

It’s Time To Go: Twenty years at your job, then the son of the boss gets the spot that was yours

It’s Time To Go: And you know, in your soul

'Midnights'

Lavender Haze: All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride

Lavender Haze: Talk your talk and go viral, I just need this love spiral

Lavender Haze: Get it off your chest, get if off my desk

Maroon: We were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf 'cause we lost track of time again

Maroon: Laughing with your feet in your lap, like you were my closest friend

Maroon: “How’d we end on the floor, anyway?” You say, “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that’s how”

Maroon: The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

Maroon: Sobbing with your head in your hands

Maroon: And I wake with your memory over me

Anti-Hero: Too big to hang out, slowly lurching toward your favorite city

Snow On The Beach: But your eyes are flying saucers from another planet

You’re On Your Own, Kid: I hear it in your voice, you’re smoking with your boys

You’re On Your Own, Kid: I touch my phone as if it’s your face

You’re On Your Own, Kid: You’re on your own, kid

Question…?: Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room and every single one of your friends was making fun of you?

Question…?: She was on your mind with some dickhead guy that you saw that night

Vigilante Shit: Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

Vigilante Shit: Picture me, thick as thieves with your ex-wife

Vigilante Shit: And she looks so pretty, driving in your Benz

Bejeweled: Don’t put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart

Labyrinth: You would break your back to make me break a smile

Karma: Weave your little webs of opacity

Karma: My pennies made your crown

Karma: Karma is the thunder rattling your ground

Karma: Karma’s on your scent like a bounty hunter

Sweet Nothing: A pebble that we picked up last July, deep down inside your pocket

Sweet Nothing: I found myself running home to your sweet nothings

Mastermind: The first night that you saw me I knew I wanted your body

Mastermind: I laid the groundwork and then saw a wide smirk on your face

The Great War: Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

The Great War: Your finger on my hairpin trigger

The Great War: I vowed I would always be yours, ‘cause we survived the Great War

The Great War: I will always be yours ‘cause we survived the Great War

The Great War: I vowed I will always be yours

Paris: Your ex-friend’s sister met someone at a club, and he kissed her

Paris: Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

Paris: Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

Paris: We drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

High Infidelity: Put on your records and regret me

High Infidelity: Put on your headphones and burn my city

High Infidelity: Your picket fence is sharp as knives

High Infidelity: Put on your records and regret meeting me

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve: If I was a child, did it matter if you got to wash your hands?

Dear Reader: Dear reader, get out your map, pick somewhere and just run

Dear Reader: Dear reader, burn all the files, desert all your past lives, and if you don’t recognize yourself, that means you did it right

Dear Reader: The greatest of luxuries is your secrets

Hits Different: I slur your name ‘til someone puts me in a car

Hits Different: A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

Hits Different: Bet I could still melt your world, argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Hits Different: I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Hits Different: Is that your key in the door?

You’re Losing Me: Fighting in only your army

Other Songs written by Taylor

All Of The Girls You Loved Before: A heart is drawn around your name in someone’s handwriting, not mine

All Of The Girls You Loved Before: Your past and mine are parallel lines

All Of The Girls You Loved Before: Your mother brought you up, loyal and kind

Beautiful Eyes: Your beautiful eyes stare right into my eyes

Beautiful Eyes: You’re here, your eyes are looking into mine

Beautiful Eyes: I’m looking through your, I’m looking through your eyes

Beautiful Eyes: I’ll be your everything tonight

Beautiful Eyes: Let me see your dream about, dream about, dream about your eyes

Best Days Of Your Life: Cause I’ll be there in the back of your mind

Best Days Of Your Life: It’s just too bad you already had the best days, the best days of your life

Best Days Of Your Life: Wrapped me in your arms and how you told me I’d be the only one?

Best Days Of Your Life: Of your life, oh, oh yeah

Best Days Of Your Life: You’re gonna think of me in your life

Christmas Must Be Something More: And put a wreath up on your door

Christmas Must Be Something More: And everybody’s here, it seems the last thing on your mind

Christmas Tree Farm: Just being in your arms takes me back to that little farm

Christmases When You Were Mine: I’ll be you got your mom another sweater, and were your cousins late again?

Crazier: Feels like I’m falling and I am lot in your eyes

Crazier: As you made life your own, every sky was your own kind of blue

Eyes Open: Keep your ey-eyes open

Eyes Open: Keep your eyes open

Eyes Open: You’ve just gotta keep your eyes open

Eyes Open: Keep your feet ready

Eyes Open: Keep your aim locked

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever: I just wanna keep calling your name

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever: Now I’m in a cab, I tell him where your place is

If This Was A Movie: Wrapped up in your arms and our friends are laughing

If This Was A Movie: Now I’m pacing down the hall, chasing down your street

Only The Young: It keeps me awake, the look on your face

Renegade: I tapped on your window on your darkest nice

Renegade: Let all your damage damage me?

Renegade: Carry your baggage up my street and make me your future history?

Renegade: Open the blinds, let me see your face

Renegade: Is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together so I can love you?

Renegade: Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to?

Renegade: You fire off missiles cause you hate yourself, but do you know you’re demolishing me?

Safe and Sound: I remember tears streaming down your face when I said, “I’ll never let you go”

Safe and Sound: When all those shadows almost killed your light

Safe and Sound: Just close your eyes

Safe and Sound: Don’t you dare look out your window, darling

The Alcott: And there you are, sitting as usual with your golden notebook

The Alcott: I had to do something to break into your golden thinking

The Alcott: You tell me your problems

The Alcott: Have I become one of your problems?

This Is What You Came For: I say, “Your place” when we leave

Two Is Better Than One: I remember every look upon your face

Two Is Better Than One: The way you roll your eyes, the way you taste

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: You can change your hair and you can change your clothes

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: You can change your mind, that’s just the way it comes

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: But you’ll always find your way back home

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: You can change your style

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: You can change your jeans

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: You can learn to fly and you can chase your dreams

You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home: Your best friends, your little hometown, waiting up wherever you go now

Official Alternate Versions

If This Was A Movie (2010 Version): Locked up in your arms and our friends are laughing

Gold Rush (Clean Version): At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian wit

Gold Rush (Clean Version): At dinner parties, I won't call you out on your contrarian wit

Happiness (Clean Version): And I pulled your body into mine every long cold night, now I get fake niceties

Ivy (Clean Version): Oh, I can't, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Maroon (Clean Version): You say, “Your roommate’s cheapest screw-top rosé, that’s how”

Maroon (Clean Version): Sobbing with your head in your hands, ain’t that the way it always ends?

Anti-Hero (feat. Bleachers): Too hurt to hang out, talking shit about your famous baby

Question…? (Clean Version): She was on your mind with some meathead guy that you saw that night

[gregorygalloway]

Friday Night Lights was released on 8 October 2004.

Directed and co-written (with David Aaron Cohen) by Peter Berg, the film was loosely based on H. G. Bissinger's 1990 nonfiction book Friday Night Lights: A Town, a Team, and a Dream.

It was Berg's 3rd film as director, and the success of the film led to his developing the TV series of the same name (but none of the nonfiction elements) in 2006.

[leakywright]

{ JONATHAN DAVISS, 21, CISMALE, HE/HIM } Is that MALIK ‘LEAKY’ WRIGHT? A SENIOR originally from CLEVELAND, MS, they decided to come to Ogden College to study ENVIRONMENTAL STUDIES on a ATHLETIC SCHOLARSHIP. They’re THE TRUSTY SIDEKICK on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

been traveling these wide roads for so long...

NAME: malik ‘leaky’ andre wright NICKNAME: leaky, leaks, wright BIRTHDAY: october 16, 2002 ZODIAC: libra sun, sagittarius moon, virgo rising SEXUALITY: bisexual RELIGION: practicing christian (baptist) THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: generous, adaptable, playful THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: flaky, scatterbrained, cheap THREE SKILLS: trained mechanic, jazz piano, math ENNEAGRAM: 2w1 MYERS-BRIGGS: istp EXTRACURRICULARS: varsity football team: tight-end. vp of recruitment pike, sports show host for student radio station, undergraduate student council.

AESTHETIC: gold rings, early morning runs, sunsets on the river, front porch sweet-tea, tailgating, kisses from grandma, cheers on top of tables, high fives, cheesy grins for photos, BeReal

CHARACTER INSPO: teddy flood (westworld), peeta mellark (the hunger games), matt seracen (friday night lights), pop tate (riverdale), charlie young (the west wing), sam obisanya (ted lasso), gregory (abbott elementary)

LIKES: making playlist, late night jams, fresh sunday mornings, making people laugh, warm summer sun, the changing of leaves, soft blankets, historical fiction, holidays DISLIKES: the past, winter, unsweetened tea, ripped jeans, cold weather, people talking during movies, doing the dishes

FAVORITE MOVIES/TV: ted lasso, friday night lights, new girl, atlanta, teen wolf, outer banks, nope, knives out, do the right thing, waves, if beale street could talk, abbott elementary FAVORITE BOOKS: the vanishing half, seven days in june, the hunger games, harry potter series, possessing the secret of joy, the fire next time FAVORITE ARTISTS: b.b. king, leon bridges, tank and the bangas, lizzo, zach bryan, lawrence, j. cole, abraham alexander, tierra whack

FAMILY: mother - adelaide wright (naomie harris) father - andre wright (omar sy) younger sister - haven wright (marsai martin) younger brother - amai wright (danny boyd jr)

pinterest here, playlist here

MOMMA’S WORDS REOCCUR TO ME:  

growing up in cleveland mississippi meant that leaky had access to the only grammy museum outside of la. but really it meant that leaky grew up with humble beginnings, in a one story house that was full of love, laughter, and inspiration. andre and adelaide wright had been high school sweethearts, with andre giving up his dreams of being a full-time musician when they found out adelaide was pregnant, to then instead be the town mechanic. she was a nurse, he a mechanic during the days and blues musician at night, and though life was hectic. it was good.

leaky was taught all the necessities by his father, piano, bass, basic mechanic skills. he wanted his son to be well-rounded and thrive in the world. to build him up. and, like every southern town, high school football became the heart of the wright household. and early on they discovered that leaky was talented. he was good, he had promise for the future. and that he had.

so between practices, gardening, picking on his younger siblings, jamming with his father, and everything else in between, leaky looked at the future with hope, with optimism. and it seemed promising.

junior year of high school, leaky committed to alabama for football, full-ride, tight-end. play time wasn’t promised for him as a freshman, but nick saban personally mentioned his name for future championships. and to make everything better, his best friend jackson and girlfriend iona were accepted their senior year. they had plans to make tuscaloosa their home.

SURRENDER TO THE GOOD LORD: (tw death)

his freshman year was exciting, and a bit overwhelming. the golden boy of the town lost his way, getting caught up in the culture of college and partying. jackson, iona, and him were having the time of their life. and sure leaky wasn’t playing as much as he wanted, but it was enough for the time being.

and then tragedy struck, beginning of second semester of his freshman year, the three of them had been out one night, leaky felt he was on top of the world. but soon it fell into darkness, he remembered sliding into the backseat of the car, pressing a sloppy kiss to iona’s neck, and the next thing he was waking up in the hospital receiving the worst news of his life. jackson and iona were dead.

and then things continued downhill, ogden had attempted to recruit leaky as well, and reached out with a new offer. full playing time, full ride, and a fresh start. leaky couldn’t turn it down. it might be kissing his chance of the nfl behind, but he couldn’t turn down the stellar education ogden was offering him.

so after finishing his freshman year, leaky moved to portsmouth, summer training and all, began his life at ogden, this time taking a side role in his life. no longer the big fish in a small pond like his life in mississippi, he found his place easily. but he doesn’t talk about his freshman year, he doesn’t visit home, and though he seems to be a vibrant and stellar young man, he holds his cards close to his chest.

AND HE’LL WIPE YOUR SLATE CLEAN:  

leaky is enjoying ogden, two years in he’s making friends, a star player, doing what he can. and yet there’s a nagging guilt, of not going home when he knows his family misses him, of not visiting iona and jackson’s families, of moving on. but he can’t face it, not yet. maybe one day he’ll be able to return home.

in fact that was the original plan, after his education, to return to cleveland and continue to build up his beloved city. like his father, leaky let’s his passions stay that way, it’s easier to keep the creativity without the pressure of it all. and instead he chose environmental science, something he hopes to be an asset for his community. leaky grew up gardening with his mother, and shares a deep love for the environment, and figures this is the best way to move forward.

GREER:

the two were casual friends. he’d see her at parties, and at school events. it’s hard not to notice the golden girl, especially with how visual leaky is on campus, always involved with an event or being seen in the advertising for the school. they got along fine, having friendships that crossed-over. he never knew her really well, but he respected her enough and enjoyed her presence. whenever she needed help or had a favor, leaky was more than ready to aid a hand. though it never seemed the two got below a surface-level friendship (to those who witnessed them anyway).

THE TRUSTY SIDEKICK:  

you need a wingman? leaky is your guy. he’s charming and pleasant and can talk anyone up. need a favor? leaky is there easily fulfilling it as if it’s nothing to him. the guy is a confidant, a hype-man, a volunteer, he can transform himself into whatever you need and it never seems to bother him. and despite being a gifted football player, and smart guy, and seemingly everywhere on campus, he doesn’t steal the spotlight. he’s not the one you think of when you think of ogden, he lets others take the popularity, the jealous looks, the whispers. despite always being there, you might sometimes overlook him, maybe because he’s always there. but he seems to be a good guy, always offering a kind smile and nod of his head on campus, willing to help tutor you in math, and then lets you have all the glory when you ace the test. it almost seems like leaky is making himself out to be the pedestal that everyone sits on. the support that uplifts the hero, and yet still disappears in the crowd, never seeking glory for himself.

extra:

previous tasks found here

he’s always wearing a jacket because he can’t stand the cold 

he wears a gold chain that was given to him by iona, he never takes it off

junior year recap:

found a note/torn out paper seemingly about greer during the haunted house

got drunk for the first time in years at the new year's party - holds guilt for penny ending up dead

found a bloody glove when looking for firewood

g told him to find penny's file in the dean's office

broke in with link and took a picture of it - haven't told anyone else

g put nova and leaky together before the rave and gave nova hints about leaky

surprisingly didn't sustain any injuries during the fire

logan confronted him afterward about the text she received about him

stayed in town for the summer to work at a farm and garden, left a few times to visit sassa

[sanchezsidelinereport]

Prime Time's New Turf: Folsom Field Gets a Million-Dollar Makeover!

When Deion Sanders rolls into town, you can bet your cleats that change is on the way. And Boulder? It's been living through it! As Coach Prime gears up for Year Three with the Colorado Buffaloes, the transformation continues, and this time, it's literally underfoot.

Folsom Field, which just celebrated its centennial last year, is getting a radical new feel. The university shelled out a cool $1 million to swap out its natural grass for a brand-spanking-new artificial turf from AstroTurf. It's the stadium's first synthetic field since 1998, and guess what? Those glory days, including the iconic 1990 national title run and Rashaan Salaam's Heisman season in '94, all happened on the fake stuff! So, why the big switch now?

Weather Woes and Playoff Dreams

You can thank (or blame) the unpredictable Boulder weather. Keeping natural grass alive and thriving past October in Colorado is a total nightmare. With the new College Football Playoff rules bringing postseason games to campus sites, CU had to be playoff-ready, and that means a reliable, all-weather surface.

But it's not just about football. This new turf opens up Folsom Field for concerts and other events without the headache of destroying a perfectly good grass field. Construction wrapped up ahead of schedule, right after the Bolder Boulder race in late May, just in time for the Phish concerts over July 4th weekend – a little trial run for the new surface!

Safety Debates and a Historic Opener

Of course, no turf conversation is complete without the player safety debate, particularly concerning soft tissue injuries. But the Buffs are clearly betting on the benefits: more flexibility, more events, and a more consistent surface for practices and other CU teams.

While the Phish fans have given it a whirl, the real test for this new field comes on August 29. The Buffs kick off their 2025 season under those fresh synthetic blades against a team they've shared some bizarre history with but never actually played: the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets. Both programs famously claimed a piece of the 1990 national title, making this first-ever meeting a truly unique clash!

Yellow Jacket Stingers vs. Buffs' Wild Card

Georgia Tech is rolling into Boulder with dual-threat QB Haynes King, who's coming off a stellar 2024 season with over 2,100 passing yards, nearly 600 rushing yards, and just two interceptions. He's got help from 900-yard rusher Jamal Haynes and reliable wideouts like Malik Rutherford and Eric Rivers, all protected by an offensive line that only gave up nine sacks all of last season. Their defense is stacked with transfers like Clemson's A.J. Hoffler, Ole Miss' Akelo Stone, and UCF's Matthew Alexander, plus a returning force in Jordan van den Berg.

Meanwhile, after a 9-4 finish in 2024, Coach Prime's crew is still finding its identity with stars like Travis Hunter and Shedeur Sanders off to the NFL. They'll need to defend their home turf, literally and figuratively, against a tough Georgia Tech squad.

Love it or hate it, Folsom Field's makeover is complete, and it's ready for prime time under the Friday night lights! What are your thoughts on the new turf, Buffs fans?

[clubbrava]

Why Puerto Rico Is a Party Lover’s Dream

Puerto Rico isn’t just about sunshine and beautiful beaches. When the sun goes down, the island transforms into one of the best party places in Puerto Rico. Locals and tourists come together to dance, laugh, and enjoy the vibrant nightlife. The culture is full of rhythm, and music is a way of life here—from classic salsa to modern beats. Whether you're staying in San Juan, Isla Verde, or nearby areas, you're never far from a good time.

And while there are many places to enjoy a night out, there’s one place that takes the party experience to the next level…

Welcome to Club Brava – Puerto Rico’s Premier Nightclub

Located inside the luxurious Fairmont El San Juan Hotel, Club Brava is more than just a nightclub—it’s a full experience. Known for its lively atmosphere, great music, and stylish crowd, Club Brava has become the go-to spot for locals and tourists looking to dance the night away.

Once you walk in, you’ll feel the energy right away. From the lighting to the music, every detail is designed to keep the party going all night long. Whether you're celebrating something special or just want a fun night out, Club Brava delivers.

Why Everyone Loves Club Brava

1. High-Energy Dance Floor At Club Brava, the music never stops. Expect an open-format playlist featuring reggaetón, hip-hop, house, and pop. Top DJs from Puerto Rico and beyond regularly spin here, creating the perfect party soundtrack.

2. VIP Experience If you're looking for something a little more exclusive, Club Brava offers VIP tables and bottle service. It’s perfect for groups or anyone who wants a more private, elevated experience.

3. Stylish Crowd People come to Club Brava to dress up and show out. It’s a place where fashion meets fun, and everyone brings their best look. You’ll feel like you're part of something special the moment you arrive.

4. Amazing Location Because Club Brava is inside the Fairmont El San Juan Hotel, you can party in style and stay the night in luxury. It’s the perfect mix of convenience and class, especially if you’re visiting from out of town.

5. Top-Notch Service From the bartenders to the security team, the staff at Club Brava knows how to treat guests right. You’ll feel safe, welcome, and ready to enjoy your night without worries.

What You Should Know Before You Go

Open Thursday through Saturday The best nights to visit are Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Doors usually open late, and the party keeps going well into the morning.

Dress Code This isn’t your average bar. Make sure to dress to impress—no flip-flops or athletic wear. Think smart, stylish, and party-ready.

Check the Website for Events Club Brava often hosts live performances, guest DJs, and themed nights. For updates, visit www.clubbrava.com.

Final Words: Make It a Night to Remember

Puerto Rico is full of exciting experiences, but no trip is complete without a night at Club Brava. It’s more than a club—it’s a place where unforgettable memories are made. Whether you're dancing under the lights, sipping on your favorite cocktail, or enjoying the company of great people, Club Brava gives you the best of Puerto Rican nightlife in one place.

[tomorrowedblog]

Friday Releases for March 7

Friday is the busiest day of the week for new releases, so we’ve decided to collect them all in one place. Friday Releases for March 7 include Mickey 17, Seven Veils, Queen of the Ring, and more.

Mickey 17

Mickey 17, the new movie from Bong Joon Ho, is out today.

From the Academy Award-winning writer/director of “Parasite,” Bong Joon Ho, comes his next groundbreaking cinematic experience, “Mickey 17.” The unlikely hero, Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) has found himself in the extraordinary circumstance of working for an employer who demands the ultimate commitment to the job… to die, for a living.

Seven Veils

Seven Veils, the new movie from Atom Egoyan, is out today.

After years away, theater director Jeanine (Amanda Seyfried) re-enters the opera world to stage her former mentor’s most famous work. Haunted by dark and disturbing memories from her past, Jeanine allows her repressed trauma to color the present as her personal and professional lives begin to unravel.

Queen of the Ring

Queen of the Ring, the new movie from Ash Avildsen, is out today.

In a time when pro wrestling for women was illegal all over the country, a small town single mother embraces the danger to change culture as she dominates America’s most masculine sport to become the first million dollar female athlete in history.

Delicious

Delicious, the new movie from Nele Mueller-Stöfen, is out today.

During their vacation in the French countryside, a wealthy German family becomes entangled with a young hotel worker harboring sinister intentions.

Eephus

Eephus, the new movie from Carson Lund, is out today.

As an imminent construction project looms over their beloved baseball field, two New England recreational teams play ball for the last time. As day turns to night and innings bleed together, the players chat, laugh, and squabble as they face the uncertainty of a new era.

In The Lost Lands

In The Lost Lands, the new movie from Paul W.S. Anderson, is out today.

A Queen sends the powerful and feared sorceress Gray Alys to the ghostly wilderness of the Lost Lands in search of a magical power, where the sorceress and her guide, the drifter Boyce, must outwit and outfight man and demon.

On Becoming A Guinea Fowl

On Becoming A Guinea Fowl, the new movie from Rungano Nyoni, is out today.

On an empty road in the middle of the night, Shula stumbles across the body of her uncle. As funeral proceedings begin around them, she and her cousins bring to light the buried secrets of their middle-class Zambian family, in filmmaker Rungano Nyoni’s surreal and vibrant reckoning with the lies we tell ourselves.

The Empire

The Empire, the new movie from Bruno Dumont, is out today.

In a quiet and picturesque fishing village in Northern France, something finally happens: a special baby is born. A child so unique and peculiar that it unleashes a secret war between extraterrestrial forces of good and evil. In an attempt to restore their empires, two opposing forces from the depths of outer space, One and Zero, unleash an apocalyptic conflict on Earth. Demons of the Zero forces covertly take over the village locals, possessing their bodies in order to establish pandemonium on earth. But at the same time, a new species of creature formed by the Ones is working for an alternative and beneficial evolution. While waiting for the final battle, the imperial legions struggle to win humanity over to their cause.

The Rule of Jenny Pen

The Rule of Jenny Pen, the new movie from James Ashcroft, is out today.

A former judge must stop an elderly psychopath who employs a child’s puppet to abuse the residents of their shared rest home with deadly consequences.

There’s Still Tomorrow

There’s Still Tomorrow, the new movie from Paola Cortellesi, is out today.

In this moving comedic drama set in postwar Rome, a working-class woman dreams of a better future for herself and her daughter while facing abuse at the hands of her domineering husband. When a mysterious letter arrives, she discovers the courage to change the circumstances of her life.

You Burn Me

You Burn Me, the new movie from Matías Piñeiro, is out today.

An adaptation of a chapter in Cesare Pavese’s Dialogues with Leucò, Matías Piñeiro’s latest is an intimate and expansive meditation on death and desire and a thrilling exploration of the possibilities of adapting text to film. In “Sea Foam,” Pavese imagines a dialogue between the ancient Greek poet Sappho and the nymph Britomartis, portrayed here by frequent Piñeiro collaborators Gabi Saidón and María Villar. Constantly shapeshifting in form, the film splinters out from Pavese’s text to a myriad of footnotes, histories, and lively digressions, from the fragmentary poetry of Sappho, to the circumstances of Pavese’s death in a Turin hotel room, to the science of sea foam with its connections to disease and fertility. In this ebb and flow of death and desire, You Burn Me introduces “mnemotechnic games” that invite the audience, through a repetition of words and images, to memorize Sappho’s lyrics, a game intrinsic to the moving image that may just save Sappho, Pavese, Piñeiro, and the audience from oblivion.

Plankton: The Movie

Plankton: The Movie, the new movie from Dave Needham, is out today.

SpongeBob SquarePants’ tiniest frenemy, Sheldon J. Plankton, is finally getting his close up. When Plankton’s latest evil scheme is thwarted, Bikini Bottom and the surface world become threatened by an unexpected danger. Now, before Plankton can take over the world, he’s going to have to save it.

When No One Sees Us

When No One Sees Us, the new TV series from Daniel Corpas, is out today.

During Holy Week in 2024 in Morón de la Frontera, a village in Seville located next to the U.S. army base area, the American way of life coexists naturally with the traditions of the Andalusian countryside. Lucía Gutiérrez (Maribel Verdú) is a Civil Guard sergeant investigating the unusual suicide of a neighbor and strange events that occurred during the first Easter procession. Magaly Castillo (Mariela Garriga) is a U.S. Army special agent sent to the Morón de la Frontera base to find out the whereabouts of a missing American soldier who seems to be linked to the hidden business of Colonel Seamus Hoopen (Ben Temple), head of the base area. The lone military policeman, Sergeant Andrew Taylor (Austin Amelio), accompanies Magaly in her investigations and they soon discover that the two investigations are connected and the case is far more complex than they had assumed, involving both Morón residents and American military personnel from the nearby base.

When Life Gives You Tangerines

When Life Gives You Tangerines, the new TV series from Lim Sang-choon and Kim Won-seok, is out today.

In Jeju, a spirited girl and a steadfast boy’s island story blossoms into a lifelong tale of setbacks and triumphs — proving love endures across time.

Zombieville USA 3D

Zombieville USA 3D, the new game from Mika Mobile, is out today.

Zombieville USA 3D is a stylized arcade shooter combining retro gameplay with strikingly polished visuals. Fight through an endless undead horde in the bleak hellscape of suburbia! Choose your weapons, grab a friend, and see how long you can survive.

Secret Agent Wizard Boy and the International Crime Syndicate

Secret Agent Wizard Boy and the International Crime Syndicate, the new game from John Szymanski, Evan Szymanski, and David Szymanski, is out today.

Use magic spells and military surplus explosives to topple an evil crime syndicate hidden beneath a prestigious wizarding school. Learn spells, engage in espionage, and spread lore-unfriendly chaos.

Warm Monkey

Warm Monkey, the new game from Evprod, is out today.

Warm Monkey is an Action/Platformer video game in isometric 3D landscape. In a modern architectural and exotic city, a monkey multiplies and its need for water increases. He must reach the seashore.

MAYHEM

MAYHEM, the new album from Lady Gaga, is out today.