#los angeles breakfast club

[noravetter]

Catch up on what I've been up to thanks to this, Voyage LA article!

[schlock-luster-video]

On February 7, 1985, The Breakfast Club premiered in Los Angeles, Caliifornia.

[h3ll0univ3rs3]

kat: where do u think this came from?

lady blue: idk, elon musk?

[moonchildstyles]

bardot

y/n is an aspiring model, and harry just might be the person that could help her

wordcount: 12.5k+

this is a patreon exclusive, with every part after this one only available on my page!

—————

A chill touched the base of (Y/N)'s spine as she padded over the cracked tiles lining her kitchen floor. It was enough of a disturbance to cause a pinch in her brows, though she still couldn't manage to peel her eyes open more than a crack. If not for the fact that she had to run a couple of errands before her shift tonight, she wouldn't even be awake at the moment. 

Working through that fatigue, she rubbed her eyes as she reached for the box of Cheerios on the top of her fridge. Her movements were lethargic as she made her breakfast, taking her time as she attempted to wake up despite the late night she'd had, closing the restaurant. Before sitting down with her cereal, she made a point to draw open her curtains, allowing bright beams of sunlight to filter through her apartment, a tactic she opened would wake her up. 

Feeling the warmth on her skin, her tired eyes fluttering against the bright light, it was all something she was still getting used to. The California sun was still so novel to her compared to the weather she'd grown up with back home. Though she missed the multitude of sweaters she'd left behind at her parents' home, she would trade those knits to get this kind of sunlight any day. 

(Y/N) pulled in a deep breath, imagining the specks of sunlight bumbling through her lungs. It didn't feel so bad then to sit down with her breakfast, a selection of new, glossy magazines sitting in the middle of her coffee table—a gift from herself after getting through her shift the night before.

Spooning a bite to her mouth, she picked up the first magazine with VOGUE stamped across the top. The cover held a glimmering photograph of a woman draped in a brightly colored dress, her hair teased high, and the kind of makeup (Y/N) had attempted to achieve in her bathroom mirror—though it never turned out as clean. The headlines had printings about the best summer pieces to have to get that "California Style", along with spreads about the new "Paris Chic" and the best eye makeup for your eye color. 

This was her morning news. Everything she wanted to know was between the glossy pages, every photograph a part of her morning routine. Flicking through, (Y/N) admired the models printed on the pages, each of them exceptionally beautiful and holding a kind of poise she wondered also ran through their real lives. 

Did Jean Shrimpton always look that perfect? Was Donyale Luna even able to leave the house without someone stopping her for just a momentary look at her cheekbones? Did any of these women ever admire themselves on the page the way (Y/N) did?

Though she skimmed the articles as she went, she no doubt had eyes for the photos themselves. If she squinted hard enough, she could almost see herself instead of the leggy body on the page. 

After finishing off her cereal, she flipped the page just as she began to rise to tow her dishes to the sink, though the ad on page had her lagging for just a moment. 

Corseted into an hourglass shape, complete with a puffy bunny tail and a set of ears on her head, was a woman with blonde hair teased high holding a silver serving tray. Black stockings molded around her legs, showing off the curves like the smile on her lips. Beneath her was a bold black font, detailing the opening of a new club in Los Angeles. 

Playboy. 

(Y/N) was familiar with the branding and the general idea behind the company, but it wasn't something she gave more than a passing thought most of the time. It was never something that really appealed to her, piquing nothing more than her curiosity over how many models—well known and hidden, alike—had been able to feel that kind of confidence to be able to pose the way they did. While she'd never seen anything for herself, there was always the talk about the centerfolds of the magazines, and what exactly was sandwiched between the pages.

It was definitely a departure from the kinds of modeling she had pictured for herself when she made the move out to the west coast in the first place, but she wondered, while looking at the corseted woman, what it could feel like to be in that spot. Would the confidence come naturally? Would the perfect posture and the perfect smile come on instinct, or were those women directed and directed until they were what the men around her told her would sell? 

She couldn't be sure, the idea being too much for her to figure out since she hadn't even been on a set herself yet. She didn't know what it would be like to have a real photographer put their camera in her face normally, let alone with only the smallest amount of clothing on her body. 

Casting one more glance at the page, she rose from her spot on the couch to take her dishes to the sink. With the corseted woman out of sight and out of mind, (Y/N) was instead distracted by the calendar pinned to the wall beside her sink. Today's slot was marked with all of the day's errands as well as her shift time, though she was distracted by the following day.

There wasn't anything particularly special marking the space, but it would commemorate the six month anniversary of her official move to California. 

If she thought too hard about it, she would focus on the lack of auditions she'd been on after the move, the zero number of scouts that had seen her on the street and begged her to join their agency, the amount of times she wondered if she had actually made the right decision when she asked her parents to help her pack up and move across the country. 

Instead, she reminded herself of the same thing she always did when all of the change had become overwhelming: just because it hasn't happened for her yet, doesn't mean it never will. 

She was an optimist at heart, and she would continue to be optimistic about her future in this city. One day she would be plastered on a billboard, or showcasing a new Maybelline mascara with her eyes fluttering in a commercial. She could even find her way to Vogue someday. 

For all she knew, today could be the start of her big break.

—————

"Thank you for covering, Gabby!" 

As soon as (Y/N) stepped out into the makeshift break room in the alley behind the restaurant for her lunch break, the bubbly smile on her lips fell. Closing shifts always took the breath out of her, especially during the dinner rush on Friday nights like this. 

These thirty minutes away, hiding in the back alley at one of the small tables set up in lieu of a proper break room, was precious to her. Despite just how loud the restaurant was, the sound overspilling into the alley, the space was just removed enough to help her brain quiet down for the time being. As much as (Y/N) loved the way her body looked and the way her legs seemed to stretch on for miles when she slipped on high heels, there would never be anything that could rival the relieved feeling that came with slipping them off for even just a few minutes during this time away. 

Leaving her feet only loosely in her shoes, she didn't waste any more of her break time, pulling out her packed sandwich and the bottle of apple juice she brought for her dinner. She had tucked a small magazine into her purse, but the thought of adding anything extra to her head at the moment wasn't appealing. Instead, she listened to the overflow of conversation from the server's station just by the swinging door of the alley as if it were a program from her television set.

Just as usual, she heard some of her coworkers debating over if there were any familiar faces seated in the dining room for the night. It wasn't unusual for famous patrons to take a seat for dinner with them, though (Y/N) highly doubted Elizabeth Taylor was currently at the bar, but the debate of whether or not one of the waiters should approach her and ask if he could be in her next movie (or next husband) was enough to bring a smile to her face between her bites of dinner. 

By the time she emptied her bottle of apple juice and had her lunch reduced to a few crumbs, the server's station had been cleared out with the only noise of the kitchen filtering out to the alley and keeping her comfortable. Just as she moved to pack everything away, her ears perked at the sound of quick footsteps heading outside to join her. Peering over her shoulder, (Y/N) just caught the way Misty, one of the hostesses she was closer with, all but barreled out onto the pavement. 

It didn't take very long to spot the difference in Misty's demeanor with the way she didn't seem to notice (Y/N) was out there at all, instead immediately beginning to pace before the door with her heels clicking over the pavement. There must have been a conversation going on in her head with the way she flapped her hands before her like a talk show host, and the silent muttering of her lips. As far as (Y/N) knew, Misty's break wasn't scheduled for another hour, even. 

"Mist?" (Y/N) prodded in a gentle voice, "Is everything okay?" 

Stopping in her tracks with a stutter to her steps, Misty looked to her with wide brown eyes and a hand to her throat. "Oh my god, you scared me." 

"Sorry," (Y/N) offered with a cautious smile, "Are you okay? You seem really freaked." 

"Yeah," Misty said, though she was less than convincing with her response, "Did you see my sister came in?" 

(Y/N) nodded, looking up at her friend from where she sat at the wobbly wrought iron table. "Is she okay?" 

Misty's shaken demeanor shifted then as she rolled her eyes, heaving a big sigh. "She's fine," she started, irritated, "just stupid. We were supposed to go to this party tomorrow night in the hills, but she's bailing on me so she can meet up with her ex. They're going to 'work it out', apparently." 

"Wait, the one that cheated with your cousin?" (Y/N)'s brows furrowed, with her mouth dropping into a gape. It couldn't be that ex, right? 

"That's the one," Misty chirped, also less than impressed with her sister's choosing, "I know, she's being an idiot but not even my mom was able to talk her out of it. But, she was going to be my ride tomorrow, and go with me so I wasn't alone."

(Y/N)'s face fell when she heard how dejected Misty sounded. While she didn't know much about this party in "the hills", she was sure that hearing about her sister's reconciliation with a terrible ex—and that she would rather hang out with a cheater than Misty herself—was more than enough to get her down. 

"I'm sorry, Mist," (Y/N) said, her eyes softening with her lips falling into a pout, "It's not fair to leave you hanging like that." 

Settling some, Misty took the chair across from (Y/N) offering a small smile. "It's okay," she shrugged, "It's just frustrating. She knows this party is important to me, but she's going to go see some guy that cheated on her, instead." 

"That sucks," (Y/N) interjected, sure her friend wasn't looking for a solution more than she wanted to vent at the moment, "Is it a birthday party, or?" 

Misty shook her head, her long black hair wisping over her shoulder, "It's an industry party. One of my friend's has an older sister who works across the street from this office that has a bunch of these music people. Apparently there's a big party happening tomorrow night at some executive's house, and she was able to get me and my sister an invite, but now I don't know if I'm even going to be able to make it there." 

(Y/N)'s lips thinned, her eyes falling to the latticed surface of the table where she fiddled with the strap of her purse. An idea pinged through her head, though she was more than unsure of voicing it. 

She'd never been to an industry party before, but there was a first time for everything—especially if it meant she could help her friend. If she was lucky, there might be even a few people she could get to know, other models or someone that could help in her own dreams. 

"I—" she started, catching her tongue when she was unsure of her next words. Flicking her eyes up to Misty, where it was clear on her face just how hard she was thinking about whatever plan she could conjure for the next twenty-four hours, (Y/N) tried again. "Okay—um—stop me if I'm doing too much, but I... If you want, I could go with you? Just so you wouldn't be alone, and I could drive you up, and everything. I don't want you to miss this if you think you'll be able to meet someone that could help you with your singing, but don't feel like you have to take me. If you can't find anyone else, just know I'm willing." 

Feeling herself rambling, (Y/N) forced herself to zip her lips in favor of watching for Misty's reaction. 

"Wait, really?" Misty said, a bubbling lilt to her voice, "You'd drive and everything, even though it's kind of far away? You don't, like, work tomorrow or anything?" 

Her rapid fire questions did little to hide the light that sparkled in her eyes and the smile that crept on her lips. (Y/N) only shrugged, feeling herself light up. "I work tomorrow night, but I should be home with enough time to get ready as long as we don't have to be there too early." 

The giggling squeal that left Misty's lips had (Y/N) letting out her own laugh just before her friend reached for her hands across the table. "(Y/N)! Thank you so much—I would love to have you come with me! We're going to have so much fun, thank you!" 

(Y/N) felt herself perking up, matching Misty's energy as she squeezed her hands. "I'm so excited, thank you," she bubbled.

The dejection she came out with had melted away leaving room for her to be back to her bubbling, loud self that ran the front of the restaurant. "No, no, thank you! Really, there's going to be so many people there—important people—this could be really good for us. And now, we both get to go!" 

Despite feeling a little nervous, accepting an invite to a place she'd never been before along with the host being someone she had no real connection to, (Y/N) couldn't help but to feel a warmth in her stomach over the kind of luck she'd stumbled into tonight. While she was sure there was going to be majority of people from the music world in attendance—people who were going to be important to Misty and her dreams of having a singing career—there has to be at least a couple of people who knew someone who could help her encroach on her own modeling aspirations. 

The remainder of her lunch time (as well as Misty's impromptu break from her hostess duties) was spent ironing out the details of the next day. A to-do list came together in (Y/N)'s head, starting with raiding her closet as soon as she made it back to her apartment tonight, hoping she could find something in the back of the racks that might be suitable for the kind of party Misty was describing to her. She couldn't wait to force a map into Misty's hands to navigate them to the hills she kept mentioning.

"I heard there might be valet there, but I don't know if that's true or just something Angelica—" 

"(Y/N), do you know where Mist—Oh, there you are," Marcus, one of the waiters, said, popping his head out into the alley, "I know you took a fifteen, but we need your help." 

Misty deflated at the request of her presence, a pout itching to settle on her lips. "I'll be up in a second." 

"Okay. Molly's drowning right now, though, so be fast."

Before he could catch the roll of Misty's eyes, Marcus disappeared back into the bustling restaurant. 

Turning to (Y/N), Misty started for the door, standing from her spot across from her friend. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? We'll figure out what we're wearing, and I'll tell you the exact address when I get the note back from my sister." 

"Okay," (Y/N) smiled, eyes following her friend as she approached the door, "Thank you again, Misty—I'm really excited." 

She paused in the doorway, one foot inside the restaurant with the other in the alley. "Me too. See you in there." 

With a wave, Misty slipped inside the restaurant leaving (Y/N) with a remaining five minutes alone. 

She quietly packed up with a smile on her face. By the time she slipped her feet back into her heels, the pain in her arches didn't feel so bad. 

For all she knew, tomorrow night could be the start of her big break.

—————

The waning summer sunlight reflected off the silver sequins decorating (Y/N)'s dress as she drove to Misty's. With the open back of the garment, the cool leather of the seat pressed into her back. The feeling had her hearkening back to the last few times she'd worn this dress, to a handful of auditions she went on before realizing that agencies didn't really want to see a cocktail dress on a potential employee at ten a.m. The patent white leather of her thigh high boots squeaked as she shifted in her spot, her eyes peering through the windshield at each passing street sign marking the unfamiliar neighbourhood. 

Coming to a slow stop at the curb, (Y/N) checked the map she had splayed on the passenger seat and the note with Misty's address half a dozen times, comparing it to the powder blue house she pulled up in front of. Hopefully, she'd made it to the right house. 

Putting the car in park, fluffing her hair one more time, (Y/N) stepped out onto the warm pavement. The sunset reflected pink across the silver of her dress, warming her skin as if she were under the flashes of dozens of cameras. 

Scaling the driveway to Misty's home, she had her eyes on the door, catching the way the knob spun before (Y/N) even made it to the porch. Misty waved to someone behind her, the length of her hair swishing at her waist as she spun around to face (Y/N) with a bright smile. A rich red dress hugged her figure, the halter top neckline framing the slide of her neck and the cut towards her cleavage. Her heels clicked with every step she took over the concrete towards (Y/N), glimmering makeup sparking on her eyelids. 

Misty forged ahead, pulling (Y/N) in for a giddy hug that had her wobbly in her boots. "Hi! How are you? Are you excited? You look so pretty!" 

(Y/N) laughed at the onslaught of questions, falling in line with Misty as she headed towards the car parked at the curb. "I'm good—excited! You look really pretty, too, thank you! I've never seen your hair down like this." 

To make a show of it, she flipped a hand through her hair with a smile on her lips. "Tonight could be the night, (Y/N)—had to pull out all the stops." 

Laughing, she followed after Misty as she started towards the car. Misty's confidence was contagious, enough to spread to (Y/N) as she settled in behind the wheel, sliding a pair of sunglasses on the line of her nose. 

As they drove towards the hills, a map splayed out in Misty's lap, they had the windows cranked down with the radio up. (Y/N) couldn't help but to sing along with the selection going through her speakers, ranging from the croons from The Zombies to belting tones from The Supremes. 

She was going to a party in the Hollywood Hills! A party where, if she's lucky enough, she could end up on the billboards they were driving past. Even if that didn't happen, she would still be fulfilling a part of her dream when she moved out here in the first place—getting to see places she'd only ever seen in movies or on the glossy pages of her magazines. 

"What do you think it's going to be like?" (Y/N) asked, shouting over the whipping wind and beats from James Brown. 

"Hm?" Misty hummed, looking back from where she had been gazing out the window, "The party?" 

"Yeah. You said there'll be lots of music kinds of people, right? Do you think we'll see anyone we know?" 

Misty shrugged, a beaming smile. "Maybe—hopefully! Angelica called me this morning and said there's supposed to be a lot of executives, so I don't know if we'll see any singers, but we'll meet the people who made the singers! How exciting is that?!" 

(Y/N), even through fleeting glances, could spot the excitement in Misty's gaze. While modeling (maybe even movies, if she was lucky enough) was (Y/N)'s dream, she was more than okay with being there for Misty as they rubbed elbows with the people that made possible all the music they were listening to now. 

In between giving directions, Misty happily chattered away about all of the different hopes she had for the soiree. Outside, the sun sunk low in the sky before disappearing by the time they entered the hills. The world around them changed from the lengths of highway to the beachy suburbs of the coast, all the way until the Hollywood Hills surrounded them. With the windows up and the radio ticked down just enough, both she and Misty left their attention to the gorgeous homes that now popped up around them like clean white roses. Everything was made of strategic, precise lines, creamy and bright against all of the greenery planted around them. Cars she'd only seen in movies were parked outside the garages, painted in pale colors with chrome accents that gleamed under the waning light. 

The sight reminded her of the Saturday morning episodes of the Jetsons she used to catch back at home as a girl. Seeing nothing more than the structures, she felt as if she were already meeting a handful of celebrities. 

After a final set of directions muttered off by Misty, (Y/N) turned onto a long stretching street. Before, while the houses were modern and clean, these were nothing short of extravagant. They were much further spaced out, gates planted before the driveways with plenty of greenery to help give even more privacy to whoever lived behind the walls. 

"It should be on the left, I think," Misty muttered, her own gaze glossed out as she took in the homes around them. 

(Y/N) silently nodded her head, pushing her sunglasses to sit on the top of her head. Peering to the left, she didn't have to peek at the numbers posted on the gates to know what home was where the party was being hosted. It was the only building with bright lights peeking through the greenery, reflecting through the darkening sky. While the rest of the street seemed to be luxuriating in quiet privacy, this one was beaconing those around them to come closer. 

"This one?" (Y/N) asked, slowing as they approached the open driveway. 

"This one," Misty smiled, giddy in her seat. 

Turning in, (Y/N) found the biggest mansion she could have imagined to be shrouded behind the palms and draping vines planted along the perimeter. It was just as pristine as the others they'd seen before, new and perfect, but on a scale she couldn't imagine knowing what to do with. A dome thatched in glimmering bronze bisected the mansion, a large window cut out on what had to be the third floor of the home, showcasing a crystalline chandelier for all to see. Creamy lines made out the rest of the structure, cookie-cutter windows giving glimpses into the spaces inside. More greenery made its way closer to the structure in the form of pruned hedges, climbing flower bushes, and postcard perfect palm trees. 

The rumor of there being valet at this soiree had turned out to be complete truth as (Y/N) drove further up the drive. Her hands grew clammy around the wheel. 

"What do I do?" she rushed out to Misty, taking her foot off the gas to buy herself time. 

"What do you mean? What?" Misty answered, knocked out of her own admiration of the space.

"The valet," (Y/N) said, slightly panicked, "Are they actually going to take the car?" 

Misty seemed to finally notice the man clad in a simple black outfit stationed at the front dome, bored as he peered at the slowly approaching car on the drive. "Oh. I don't know. Do you keep the car on or just give them the keys?" 

"I don't know," (Y/N) parroted, words bubbling off as she ran out of time the closer they drew to the dome, "I've never done this before!"

Before either of them had a chance to attempt to thread together a game plan, (Y/N) heavily stepped on the brake, stopping them at the front door. The valet made no move to greet them, standing at his station with a pleasant expression on his face as he waited. With clumsy movements, (Y/N) pulls her keys out of the ignition, and plucked her purse from beside her feet. Misty followed with the same amount of haste, both of them practically stumbling out of the car towards the waiting valet that looked on with surprise raising his brows. 

"Hi," (Y/N) greeted, just barely remembering the sunglasses pinning her hair back on her head. She snatched them off, tucking them into her purse. 

"Good evening, ladies," the valet responded, taking in their stumble, "How are you?" 

"We're alright, thank you," Misty piped up, peering around the valet to get a peek into the home behind him, "And yourself?" 

"I'm doing swell myself, thank you," he beamed, holding a hand out expectantly towards (Y/N), "How do you know the host?"

While he had a pleasant smile on his face as he took her keys, (Y/N) was sure he was well aware of how little they fit in within this space. She couldn't blame him for assuming there was a chance they weren't supposed to be here, if their stumbling and her less than trendy car was anything to go by.

"We work with him," Misty piped up, clearly preferring to bypass the roundabout way that she knew the host through three different people. 

"Oh, yeah?" he prodded, brows bouncing above his eyes, "At the office or the studio?" 

"The office," Misty clarified without a second thought. 

The valet took her answer with a slow nod, palming (Y/N)'s keys before asking for her name and bidding them a good night once they were on the list. With that, he left the double doors behind him unattended. Misty grabbed (Y/N)'s hand who stumbled into step beside her, her gaze shot over her shoulder to watch as the valet took in the vast difference between her car and the others he'd already attended to throughout the night. 

Pushing through the double doors, (Y/N)'s expectations for the inside of this mansion were blown out of the water. One of a kind art canvases were hung up on the walls, beautifully crafted vases and sculptures displayed through the halls, along with the extravagant chandelier hanging above their heads. This place felt straight out of a movie, perfect like a Normal Rockwell painting. 

The deeper Misty walked them through the space, she took in the overflow of guests spread throughout the home. She'd never seen so many different sitting rooms, with so many different people. In the main space just off from the foyer was cleared out, leaving space for a bar being professionally tended and room for plenty of young women to dance along to the records spinning on the player with drinks in hand. Too many older men were placed along the perimeter doing nothing more than watching them. 

"Um," Misty started, voice raised high enough to be heard over the different radios and gramophones playing, "I'm going to try to find my friend and her sister, and the host, but you don't have to come with me if you want to get a drink." 

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she steeled her grip on Misty's hand. There was no way Misty was going to be able to lose her that quickly. "No, I'll go with you." 

"Are you sure?" Misty asked, bouncing her brows above her eyes.

(Y/N) gave a nod, shooting her friend a look with a glance towards the men prowling around the young women. Misty seemed to catch her drift then, more than alright with (Y/N) tagging along. 

While Misty was on the lookout for familiar faces, (Y/N) was happily pulled along with her curious gaze spread out to every branching hallway and living area. While the room with the women dancing around was the life of the soiree, there were other areas that looked as if they were board meetings plucked right out of the city complete with men dressed in suits, lounging with cigars in smoky rooms. Trays with food were being passed about in the hands of staff dressed in similar all black outfits as the valet out front. 

She barely had a chance to settle her eyes on a single person or scene before something just as bright and bold called her attention away. Misty surged forward with their hands still clasped until they reached the glass door leading to the backyard. 

If she had thought the inside of the mansion was wild, not even the drunken bar room had anything on the backyard. 

With a shimmering pool setting the scene, there seemed to be a rule that only the prettiest of attendees were allowed in the grassy space. It only took a pair of steps out onto the patio for (Y/N) to feel like she had never actually seen Los Angeles before this moment. Her mouth was set agape as Misty dragged her along, heading towards a grouping of men (Y/N) barely glanced at when there was so much else around to steal attention. 

A bar was stationed outside as well, though it looked much less professional than what was inside. Whoever wanted a drink was free to grab whatever, including the whole bottle if they so choose, with no one to bat an eye. More than a few people floated about the pool, some fully clothed while others were covered with only the help of the refractions glowing through the water. Drunken conversations were held between those about the lip of the pool, some wobbling close to the edge though they only laughed when the stumbles occurred. 

Everything appeared entirely too glamorous to be real. The women's hair was too perfect, the men too picturesque. This was what shindigs in the Hills were like? 

Suddenly Misty's voice piped up, having taken the straight to the grouping of businessmen she had eyed as soon as they made it out the door. "Hi! Mr. Vitacoma?" 

Facing forward, (Y/N) watched as a tall man with broad shoulders turned around to face Misty, brows in a pinch. "That's me," he started, eyes visibly brightening when he took in who exactly it was that had approached him, "How can I help you?" 

Misty's bright voice became a mumble as she introduced herself, and thanked this man for hosting the party. A conversation started, Mr. Vitacoma asking how exactly they were connected and how she'd found herself at his soiree. From what she was collecting, this man was some kind of executive at a record label, tonight's party being a "just because" occasion, and of course, he was so happy to have such a beautiful woman like Misty in attendance. 

(Y/N) was vaguely aware of Misty's voice pattering on with confidence, though her attention was stitched elsewhere. The men around Mr. Vitacoma had gone quiet, impressed with Misty's gall to have approached their group in the first place. It was interesting to see these men as suits, the kind running the studios and labels instead of those in front of the cameras and microphones. 

One of them in particular had (Y/N) flicking her eyes away more than once, his face almost too pretty to look at for longer than a moment before needing a break. 

His bone structure was sharp, jawline cutting with high cheekbones, a layer of stubble creeping up his cheeks. From his profile, his nose was a perfect straight line; cinnamon colored freckles were dusted over the bridge, faint under the lowlight. His hair came in textured waves of dark brown, playing off of the bright green hue of his eyes. His white button up was undone, displaying the white undershirt pasted to his torso. Just the faintest peeks of different tattoos bled through the thin fabric, including the tips of a chest piece peeking over the neckline of his tank. A small peach colored, paisley printed silk scarf was hanging around his neck, untied through the wrinkles in the material made it clear it had been knotted earlier in the night. A pair of black pants were belted around his hips with a shimmering pinstripe running through the garment, playing off the ambient lighting through the backyard.

(Y/N) couldn't keep herself from following the line of his form. Broad shoulders and strong chest gave way to a tapered waist, each block of muscle visible through the cling of the top. 

By the time she dared to flit her eyes back up to his face, (Y/N) had to blink back her shock at finding the green lilypads of his eyes already trained right on her. A small smile touched at the corner of his mouth, amusement sparking across his graze. 

Feeling her skin heating, she was suddenly too aware of herself. She hadn't meant to glaze her eyes all over him, let alone be caught doing just that. Flicking her gaze away on instinct towards Misty still schmoozing over her executive, (Y/N) shuffled in her spot, patent leather of her boots squeaking. Her hands suddenly felt too empty, especially feeling his eyes still warming the side of her face. She didn't think before she had her hand reaching for her hair, searching for some kind of flyaway or anything out of place to play with, just before her fingers collided with her forgotten sunglasses. If there wasn't already enough embarrassment coursing through her system, the fact she had left her accessory messily holding her hair back could have been enough to have her melting on the spot. 

It wasn't bad enough she was caught ogling a stranger, she also had to have stray pieces of hair standing straight up on her head while she was at it. 

Fumbling around, she plucked the sunglasses from the top of her head and made to shove them into her purse. A breathy laugh sounded, so quiet she wouldn't have heard it over all the noise had she not been hyper aware of the man standing only feet away from her. 

Peeking up through the stray baby hairs falling in her face, (Y/N) saw the man with the peach scarf looking at her with an amused smile on his face, dimples in his cheeks with his green irises bright. He bounced his brows above his eyes when he caught her gaze, gesturing down to her stumbling hands and fingerprint laden glasses with a tip of his chin. 

(Y/N)'s blood burned under the apples of her cheeks. She could only sheepishly shrug, a shy smile on her lips in hopes of looking more nonchalant than she clearly was. 

Another small laugh plumed from him. Her shoulders relaxed some when she realized he wasn't making a joke of her, merely quietly teasing her over something only the two of them know about. A small inside joke was being threaded between them in the middle of the patio. 

Stepping away from the congregation, the man made a step towards (Y/N). Her heartbeat picked up in her chest. It would only take a few of his long strides to close to space between them. 

"This is (Y/N)," Misty chirped, tugging her forward and away from the stranger that had taken her attention. "My sister bailed, and (Y/N) stepped up to come with me tonight. I wouldn't be here if she didn't agree to come out here." 

A slight daze had (Y/N)'s attention split between the present and moments before. She gave a placid smile to Misty's executive, offering a hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you. Mr. Vitacoma, right?" 

He flashed (Y/N) a bright smile, offering his own greeting she barely paid attention to. Pleasantries were exchanged then, forcing her to play along as to not ruin this for Misty, though (Y/N)'s mind was decidedly stitched elsewhere. With every plastered smile and feigned attentive nod of her head, she could feel someone's—his—eyes on her. 

If it wasn't disrespectful, she would have already disengaged from Mr. Vitacoma and given her attention back to the man with the peach scarf. As much as she warmed under his gaze, still feeling a bit of that embarrassment after being caught so obviously ogling him, she was thrilled to have seen him attempting to approach her. 

She hoped she hadn't lost her chance to hear what kind of voice a man like that held, and what it may sound like wrapped around her name. 

Hearing the beginnings of Misty's laugh, (Y/N) immediately joined in, having missed completely what she was laughing at but playing along anyway. Taking advantage of the moment, she turned her head just enough in hopes of catching sight of the peach scarf man from around Misty's back. 

But, he was gone. Even with his height, she was unable to catch even a single swirl of his brown hair among the sea of the other executives congregating around them. 

Before she had much of a chance to mourn the chance that had come and gone to know anything about this man, a scream sounding from beside the pool had her turning around. Misty and Mr. Vitacoma barely registered the noise, only offering fleeting glances in that direction before she was back to her half-flirting, half-schmoozing. (Y/N)'s jaw dropped when she saw what exactly had screeched beside the pool.

A woman with voluminous blonde hair and a drunken smile on her face had stripped down, her dress and undergarments sitting in a pile on the grass, and was running straight towards the pool. Those around the pool with drinks in their hands cheered her on, encouraging her just before she took a leap and splashed straight into the water. As soon as she surfaced, makeup running with her hair deflated and pasted her face, another round of raucous cheers cracked through the backyard. 

Flitting her eyes around, (Y/N) expected to see others sharing her shock. Instead, she found people either not paying attention at all or smiling on as if this was nothing more than the scheduled entertainment for the night. While (Y/N) wouldn't consider herself a complete prude (she'd seen a few French films over the years, and they were certainly not for the pearl-clutchers back home), but she couldn't believe no one shied away at the sight of the woman's naked body. Was there a memo that Misty forgot to let her in on? 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) found herself unable to pull her eyes from the commotion that was beginning over by the pool. It was as if the woman's display had been a gun firing off, signaling the start of the real party now that the sun had dipped and only the most fun remained for the rest of the festivities. 

Those that had previously been lounging by the pool started up with their own soirees, some downing the rest of the drinks they had their hands before stripping and joining the woman in the pool, or plain watching on with heated looks on their faces. Even some men dared to strip down and join in, giving (Y/N) a sight she'd truly never seen before with her eyes going wide. Some of the couples she'd seen before had turned their attention to one another, lips and tongues meeting with reckless abandon. Blatant sexuality was put on show among the low lighting and the moon sparkling above their heads. Despite being in Los Angeles for a little over nine months, she'd never seen anyone behave this openly, acting as if there was no one else around other than those they wanted to see. 

The most jarring came in the form of a trio—two women and one man—squeezed together on a pool lounger. The man had his arms around both of the women, but had his head bent towards one, kissing her with gusto. The other woman, skin a sparkling bronze with a thick headband holding back her curly hair, caressed her manicured hands across the lines of the redhead's body. The man didn't leave his other companion without, it appeared, his own brawny hand sliding down the cuff of her shoulder until it was dangling over the swell of her breast before brushing his fingers over where the peek had been hidden behind her dress. (Y/N) could spot the curly haired woman whispering something to the kissing pair, something quiet enough just for the three of them to hear just before the redhead smiled into the kisses though the man refused to break the contact and dove harder into the redhead's mouth. The curly haired woman looked at them with hooded eyes, eye shadow shimmering under the moonlight, as she reached out and combed her fingers through waves of red hair, fisting the strands back and out of her friend's face with a stiff tug. A blush touched the redhead's cheeks.

They moved as if they were on film. The touches from the curly-haired woman moved harmoniously with each caress from the redhead over the man's muscled chest, as if perfected from a script. A director could have been sat feet away, camera trained in their direction with the way every ideal angle was shown off to the rest of the party. (Y/N) wouldn't have been surprised if this whole night was nothing more than a setup for some magazine, a photographer waiting for the perfect moment before jumping out with a camera and the perfect lighting. 

As soon as the curly-haired woman leaned across the man's chest and pressed a lingering kiss to the redhead's shoulder, a hoot sounded from one of the other onlookers in the backyard. It was then that (Y/N) remembered she wasn't the only one here, the only one watching. She had been seeing something like an editorial photoshoot with these people—a bit scandalous of a subject, but nonetheless boundary pushing—but the sound of a cheering comment had brought her back to the present to see this for what it was.

The artistic, pretty filter she had seen the moment in vanished, leaving what was gearing up to be much raunchier of a scene than she was sure any of her French films had shown. 

Whipping her head away when the strap of the redhead's dress was pulled down, (Y/N) turned to see Misty and Mr. Vitacoma conversing with no indication that either of them cared to know what was going on behind their backs. 

"Mist," (Y/N) murmured, feeling only a little bad to be interrupting, "I'm going to go get a drink inside, okay?" 

Misty gave her a nod with a small smile. "Okay, I'll come find you later." 

With that, (Y/N) gave Misty and her executive a parting nod before scurrying away to head back inside, her eyes staying on her feet and nowhere near the pool. 

It was with a sigh of relief that (Y/N) closed the door behind herself. While there was much more commotion and bodies surrounding her inside the mansion, it was decidedly less pressure than whatever it was going on out there. Though she was alone this time around, which wasn't something she thought about until a group of men in suits passed her by, a few offering appreciative glances in her direction. 

This place seemed much bigger without Misty at her side. 

Meandering through the throngs of people and the puddles of liquor on the floor, (Y/N) wasn't sure where she was going, only that the closer she was to the backyard, the more clinging the atmosphere seemed to be. There were plenty of people around her, some with clear influence that she was sure she should have been using this opportunity to get to know, just like Misty brought her here for, but she continued on with no clear destination in mind. 

She didn't feel comfortable inserting herself in the cigar room, not when the men had poured out whiskey and the smoke had turned into something heavier. More faces littered the halls, getting more and more packed the darker the night grew. Sticking close to the walls, (Y/N) couldn't help the owlish blinks that fluttered her lashes as she took in the raucous patrons of the party. She was well aware of the parties and the night clubs that livened up downtown LA, but she never figured something like that could fit between the walls of someone's home. 

Inadvertently, she found herself approaching the first room she had Misty had spotted, full of women her age dancing and having fun with a bartender slinging drinks faster than the records spinning. While she wasn't exactly comfortable, this room felt a lot easier to wade through as opposed to the faux board meeting going on in the other with all of the smoking men. 

Keeping company with the fridges of the room, (Y/N) had the lingering thought that maybe she wasn't cut out for this kind of industry. Whether it be modeling or becoming a movie star, she figured she should be able to make conversation with practical strangers instead of marinating in her own excitement all by herself. A real model—a confident star—would have found the spotlight without hesitation and made a group of friends and connections that would land her somewhere even more glamorous than this mansion in the Hills. 

Instead, (Y/N) was stationed somewhere between the record player and the suede couch pushed against the walls, tucked out of the way and listening into the conglomeration of all of these conversations. 

Out of seemingly nowhere, a woman with towering dark hair and a sleek black dress entered her field of vision. She wore a bright smile and eyes that were a bit glossy, red veins spidering over her sclera. 

"Are you friends with Misty?!" she shouted, maybe a bit too loud even with the record player and sound system so close. 

Taken aback, a whiff of heavy liquor radiating from this girl's breath, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "Yeah, we work together." 

"That is so fun! I work with her sister, Angelica! Where is she?" The girl stumbled some on her heels, reaching out for (Y/N)'s shoulder to keep herself steady. 

"Angelica is seeing a friend tonight, so she couldn't make it," (Y/N) started, stifling her laughter over this woman's sudden friendship with her, "And, Misty's outside talking to some record label guy." 

Her mouth fell open, dark lashes fluttering. "Come hang out with me and my friends! You shouldn't be alone at a party like this! Oh my god, and you need a drink!" Every sentence tumbling out of this woman's mouth broadened (Y/N)'s smile. Other than some rowdy patrons at the restaurant, she wasn't around many drunk people, especially none this excitable. A gasp fell from her lips, stopping herself in her teetering heels with her hand clutched around (Y/N)'s shoulder. "Wait, what's your name?" 

"I'm (Y/N)," she smiled, "What's your name?" 

"Marguerite! Now, do you want to take shots or do you want an actual drink?" 

(Y/N) followed after Marguerite with a bubbling smile. She hoped she would be able to find her spotlight now. 

—————

Twirling in her boots, (Y/N) tossed her head back with her eyes closed. She could vaguely feel the condensation from the drink in her hand, glass slick in her hand. By the time she opened her eyes, dropping back into the moment with the group of women that had adopted her for the night, she couldn't figure out if the room was spinning because of her wiring or if it was her drinking. 

From working at the restaurant, and knowing enough bartenders through her journey of becoming known, she knew most bartenders tended to water drinks down to keep people coming for more and giving some hefty tips, but it didn't seem this man had received that memo. These cocktails were heavy, full of sour heat as soon as it touched her tongue before being doused out by the collection of juices and citrus mixed throughout. Initially, she had turned down taking shots with Marg and her friends, but she figured she could have just done that and made it to the same state she was currently in. 

But, that didn't matter. Anything from a couple of hours ago, no longer mattered. What mattered now was how each song she heard was now her favorite, every cocktail she tried was the best she'd ever had, and these girls were undoubtedly the best friends she'd ever had. (Y/N) was almost certain she'd never been this drunk before. 

A night of firsts, she figured; first networking opportunity she'd ever gone to, and the first time she'd been drunk enough that her heart and the record player in the corner were made of the same rhythms. 

She'd have to find her spotlight another time, it appeared. 

Suddenly, the weight of someone's hand settled on the small of her back. Seeing her friends—albeit a bit blurry—in front of her, she couldn't imagine who exactly would be comfortable enough to place their hands on her. 

Whirling around, the hem of her dress fluttering around her thighs, (Y/N) saw an unfamiliar face looking down at her. His hair was black like his suit, slicked back with enough product to make the strands appear wet. His eyes were just as dark and glassy, with the sclera full of red veins. 

It was a distant memory, from a version of herself that was sober and no longer here, (Y/N) remembered the men that had strategically placed themselves about the room in order to gain the perfect vantage point to watch the women drinking and socializing as if they were a show on the television set. None of them had been so bold to approach anyone yet, but it only took a quick glance towards Marg and the others to see this must have been a team effort, everyone a touch distracted by these unfamiliar men. 

"Hi, sweet thing," this man murmured, dipping his head unnecessarily close to her ear, "Having fun?" 

"Um—" 

"(Y/N)?" 

Snapping away from this man, (Y/N) clutched her drink. A breath of relief touched her lungs when she saw it was Misty who had called to her. She looked just as pristine as when they had arrived, dress still clinging to her form, hair perfectly straight without a strand out of place. (Y/N) doubted her lipstick was anywhere near as perfect as Misty's still was. 

"Mist! You're back!" (Y/N) cheered, grateful to be dismissing the man in favor of wrapping Misty in an enthusiastic hug. "Are you a singer now?!" 

Misty shot her a bubbling smile, the corners twitching as if she was trying not to be as happy as she currently felt. "I might be," she muttered, sheepish, "I have a meeting—a real one—with Mr. Vitacoma tomorrow morning. I need to get home so I can sleep at least a little before I head to the office." 

(Y/N) blinked, arms going limp around Misty. "Now?" 

"Yeah," Misty nodded, mind obviously elsewhere, "Do you have your stuff?" 

"Um," (Y/N) prattled, suddenly aware of her bag hanging from her elbow, "Yeah, but... I don't know, Mist. I'm kind of really drunk, I think." 

Misty seemed to suddenly take note of her friend's state and the cold drink in her hand. "Wait. How many drinks have you had?" 

"Three, I think," (Y/N) started, unwittingly beginning to sway to the new song that had started playing through the space, "But they're really strong." 

Fitting her bottom lip between her teeth, Misty's face twisted into worry. "You don't think you can drive, right now? It's almost two." 

Opening her mouth, (Y/N) felt like a guppy when she stood there and no words came. While she was far from sober, she was definitely beginning to feel the gravity of what Misty needed from her. She had a terribly exciting meeting set up for tomorrow morning, a real sit down with Mr. Vitacoma that would make her one of the voices etched into a vinyl. Misty had no idea how to drive, so (Y/N) needed to get her home before the sun started on the horizon. 

"I—um—hold on," she said, dropping her drink to sit on a random surface, "I think I need some air, and after that I can drive us home. Do you know if there's any food around?" 

Misty, working on one problem at a time, clutched (Y/N)'s hand and started towards the backyard. It was a deja vu moment, (Y/N) absently wondering what the grassy area had devolved into through the hours she had been inside. 

"Get some air, and I'll try to find some bread or something," Misty thought out loud, pushing open the glass door with their shoes clicking over the cement patio. 

The world spun a bit too fast for (Y/N) to catch anything going on around the pool, allowing her to simply follow after Misty as best she could in the boots that suddenly felt less than stable now that she wasn't dancing. Like a wobbly shadow, (Y/N) stayed close to Misty as she rounded to the side of the house, out of the way of the distant splashing and cheering from the pool. 

"Are you okay to stay right here?" Misty asked, stopping (Y/N) on a soft patch of grass between the main home and shed field with whatever it took to maintain lawns of this size. From here, she could spot the height of the trees that had welcomed them when they made it here hours earlier. 

(Y/N) nodded her head, sinking to sit down on the cool grass. "Where are you going?" 

Misty looked at her with wide eyes, bottom lip being chewed between her teeth. "To get you something to eat. And, water, probably." 

"Oh yeah," (Y/N) bubbled, a plume of laughter falling from her lips, "I'll be okay, I think." 

Her friend hesitated for a moment, steps starting and stopping with one more look at (Y/N) in the safety of the secluded space before starting off for the house. Left by herself with her bare legs laid in the cool blades of grass and the sky clear above her, (Y/N) took in deep breaths. 

Without smoke and thick humidity clogging the air, she was allowed a reprieve. Sitting here, she didn't feel all that drunk, but she doubted she would feel that stable if she made a move to stand up. Hopefully, whatever Misty found inside would help her get back on track, make it so she could have Misty home before the night had ended. 

Pulling her knees to her chest, (Y/N) tried to concentrate. She wanted her mind to slow, her gaze to even, and her body to feel like her own again. She couldn't drive like this, she knew, but Misty was relying on her. (Y/N) needed to figure out how to get this alcohol out of her system in record time. 

It was a frustrating goal, one she knew was going to be impossible to achieve when she couldn't get her gaze to focus on a miniscule chip in the white paint of the shed before her. Her gaze moved like the liquor that had sloshed in her glass inside. 

Was she going to have to drive like this? Would they even make it back if she did that? 

She hadn't realized her eyes had grown wet, tears puddling in her waterline until her sight ws that much more unreliable. She was frustrated and nervous, pressure coming from the fact that without a miracle, she was going to have to make sense of wavy lines while driving her friend home to prepare for the meeting of a lifetime. 

(She wasn't a perfect driver, anyway. She doubted she'd be much better when she wasn't one hundred percent sober). 

"Hey, are y'alright?" 

Whipping her head up, (Y/N) caught only a glimpse of the new guest of her spot before wincing. Moving the fast wasn't a good idea if she was working on getting her vision to quit swimming. 

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," she stuttered, cracking her eyes open just enough to find the vague lines of who was standing before her, "I'm drunk." 

A breathy laugh filled the air. One (Y/N) knew—had been hyper aware of just hours ago. 

Blinking her eyes open, her vision having settled, she saw the man with the peach scarf. Right in front of her with the pretty green of his eyes trained on her, moonlight seeping through the swirls of his hair. 

He was British. Interesting. 

"Do y'want something to drink? It might be a good idea to eat something, too." The sharp planes of his face softened out, rounding with dimples in his cheeks and a kind smile curving his lips. 

"My friend, she's already grabbing so-something for me," she hiccuped, "You met her kind of; she was talking to your friend." 

Crouching to sit at her level, the man nodded his head. "She's something," he laughed, "Not many people come up to John like that. She has a meeting with him in the morning, right?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head, squinting when her vision when spiraling once more. "Yeah, so I need to drive her home, but I think I'm still drunk. She's getting me some water, and then we have to go." 

This man's reaction came in the form of a pinch settling between his brows, lips thinning. "She doesn't want to drive?" 

"She doesn't know how," (Y/N) clarified.

He didn't seem to like this extra information much more. His tone was gentle when he spoke again, everything softened in this accent she'd only ever heard on television. "I don't know if 's a good idea for y'to be driving tonight. Maybe, we can go inside and see if there's anywhere y'can sleep for the night." 

Reaching a broad hand out for her to take, he looked at her with encouraging eyes. (Y/N) shook her head. "I can't. She has that meeting in the morning and I have work tomorrow, we-we can't stay. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay." 

A heaved sigh fell from his lungs. "I don't think that's how it works, love." 

Before she could make heart eyes over the pet name he laid over her, (Y/N) saw a familiar form rounding behind her new friend. 

"(Y/N)? I've got your water. How are you feeling?" Stepping around the man with the peach scarf, Misty had water and what looked to be a glass of dry cereal in her hands. She gave a sidelong glance towards the man that was not there the last time she'd seen her friend. 

Lagging in response, (Y/N) blinked up at Misty. "I'm good—so much better! Let's go!" 

Just as she put on her performance with an attempt to get to her feet, her flimsy cover was blown as soon as she stumbled into Misty with her arms pinwheeling at her sides. With her hands full, Misty offered an arm towards (Y/N) to brace herself, but it was the man with the peach scarf that steadied her before she had a chance to fall flat on her face. He reached towards her, settling his palms on her shoulders with (Y/N) touching his chest over the thin material of his top. 

"(Y/N)!" Misty bubbled, eyes wide.

Blinking up at the man with her lashes fluttering around her uneven gaze, (Y/N) took in the sight of him with the moon acting as a halo behind his head. 

Was her mouth agape? Was she still touching him? Was she unbelievably drunk, or was the rest of the world a blur, except for him? 

"Are y'alright?" he murmured, concern dripping from his words. 

Back on earth, (Y/N) shook herself away from the man, their hands dropping to their sides though she swore she could still feel the creases of his palms and length of his fingers around her shoulders. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, turning her gaze towards Misty, "Sorry, just—hold on, I can take us home, just give me a second." 

Both Misty and the man gave her less than impressed looks. 

He was the first to move, looking towards Misty with a bounce to his brows. "Misty, right?" 

Despite (Y/N)'s clear favoring of him, Misty didn't knock the suspicious accusations from her eyes. "Yes. Why?" 

He shot her that dazzling smile, dimples and all. "I know y'have an appointment with John tomorrow morning, but she's not going to be well enough to drive tonight. It wouldn't be safe to head home before she's had a chance to sleep this off." 

Misty's shoulders dropped at the serious tone he served her. "But... I can't—We can't stay. I have to go home to get ready for that meeting, and she has to go to work." 

Pursing his lips, the man settled his hands on his hips as the gears in his head began to turn. "Where's home?" 

Even in her muddled head, (Y/N) could see the reluctance Misty held when she gave the general area they came from. 

He gave her a nod, lips still thinned. Peering through his lashes, he looked at Misty before offering a fleeting glance towards (Y/N). "I can take y'both home. I haven't had anything to drink tonight." 

Walls back up immediately, Misty gave an uncertain stare, brows pinched. She didn't have to say anything for man to start offering an alternative, (Y/N) letting out a plume of laughter. 

"Or, I can call a taxi? I can't guarantee anyone will be available, or how quick they'd make it out, but 'm more than happy to pay for it." Sincerity lit up his eyes. 

Misty didn't immediately have an answer, taking her turn to think over the direction the night had taken. The silence left (Y/N) a chance for the alcohol to wipe her own thoughts over the dilemma, her attention instead shifting to lay fully on the man that stood before her. 

Maybe it was the vodka shining in her eyes, but she swore something angelic began to shimmer from the edges of him. He really was so pretty, (Y/N) thought. Earlier hadn't just been the product of an excitable mind seeing a bunch of important people for the first time since her cross-country move, he really was gorgeous. 

Did he know that? Were enough people telling him that? Should she tell him? 

For the second time that night, she was caught staring at him. A twitching of a smile touched at the corner of his mouth, his eye dropping into a wink. 

She couldn't help herself, her own features brightening and molding into something giddy. She didn't need Misty to tell her what the best option was out of the two this man had presented, (Y/N) already had her favorite picked out. 

"You'd really t-take us home?" (Y/N) hiccuped through her smile, clasping her hands in front of her middle. 

"If that's what you'd prefer," he drawled, amusement dancing over his features as he took in her reaction. 

Before he could send a precursory glance towards Misty once more, (Y/N) piped up, "I prefer that! Please." 

A small plume of laughter fell from his lips at her outburst, Misty even taking a peek in her direction with a raised brow and half smile. 

"Please, Mist," (Y/N) pleaded, a bright smile on her face, "Isn't he so nice?"

Another small glance towards the man was given by Misty. "What's your name? I'm not getting in someone's car when I don't know their name." 

"'M Harry," he smiled, "And John is a good friend of mine, and he'd kill me if I messed up his schedule tomorrow by not getting you two home." 

"And, you're not crazy, right?" 

Another set of dimples touched his cheeks. "Not as far as I know." 

"Fine," Misty settled, "Thank you, Harry." 

"Thank you, Harry," (Y/N) parroted, a little too excitable.

Both Misty and Harry helped guide (Y/N)'s stumbling steps through the mansion, the water and cereal Misty grabbed for her being left behind as they made their way through the halls. More than once, she had the privilege of getting a touch from Harry's large hand on her arm or between her shoulder blades when her balance teetered.

He led them through the mansion and to the valet where a different attendant now stood at the station. Harry gave the man a small nod before taking them sharply away from the bank of cars that had been valeted out of the way, out of the way to a glossy forest green Cadillac. 

(Y/N) gaped in awe. She'd seen plenty of nice cars while living out here, but she'd never thought anyone actually drove them—not anyone real, like Harry, anyway. 

Harry made to stand by the passenger side, holding open the back door for them to slip inside. "This is yours?" she asked, "Like, you drive it and everything?" 

"I do, yeah. Like it?" 

"The color is really pretty," (Y/N) shared, holding back the detail that it reminded her of the flecks of darker hues in his eyes. 

"Thank you," he smiled.

Misty guided (Y/N) into the backseat then, following in to sit beside her a moment later. An amused look was on her friend's face. "You're a flirty drunk, huh?" 

"Am I?" (Y/N) bubbled. Was it terribly obvious she thought Harry was pretty?

"A little," Misty laughed just as Harry took his own spot behind the wheel. "But, it's alright. It's good for you—you don't do it enough." 

"Jus' straight home, right ladies?" 

"Yes, please." Misty reached ahead where a folded map was sitting on the bench of the passenger seat. "Do you want me to give directions?" 

Harry shrugged off the offer, "I think I've got it. Y'jus' keep an eye on her." 

Looking forward, into the rearview mirror, (Y/N) caught Harry's eyes on her, creases touching the corners as a smile spread over his lips. 

—————

"Bye, Mist. Call me tomorrow, please. I want to know how your meeting goes." 

"I will," Misty murmured, giving (Y/N) a tired hug before she started inching towards the door, "When you get home, eat something and have some water before you go to sleep. And take off your makeup." 

As much as (Y/N) wanted to stick to Misty's instructions, she knew herself well enough to know that those words had gone right through her. Nonetheless, she nodded her head. "Okay. Love you." 

"Love you, too." Pushing the door open, Misty took a glance over her shoulder towards Harry in the front seat, who was fiddling with the radio dials on the dashboard. "Thank you for driving us home, Harry. I'm happy you aren't crazy." 

"Me too," he smiled, turning to face her, "'M happy I could get y'home safely. Let me walk y'up." 

(Y/N) watched as Harry escorted her friend up to her front door, giving her a perfect view of all of the lines of his body. Being cramped up in his car almost made her forget the full length of his height. As if there wasn't enough she would be thinking about once she was at her apartment. 

Taking his seat back in the front seat once Misty was inside safely, Harry turned to look at (Y/N) over the bench seat. "Wanna sit up here with me? Or are y'comfortable back there?" 

She didn't even have to think before she was scrambling to make her new spot at his side. "I wanna sit with you." 

Although she'd never thought of herself as particularly funny, Harry seemed to think she was hilarious. Everything she said drew a laugh out of him. 

Nonetheless, she hopped out of the backseat and found her new spot up in the passenger side of the bench seat beside Harry. Turning the key in the ignition, he pulled away from the curb of Misty's house before shooting a quick glance towards (Y/N).

"Want to find some music for us? I can only listen to the same advertisements so many times, you know," Harry prompted, nodding to the radio with a dip of his chin. 

"The McDonald's one is the worst," (Y/N) bubbled, reaching over to play with the dials, "It's always on." 

Harry agreed with a hum, following the directions Misty had given before she left for the night to head towards (Y/N)'s apartment. "What kind of music do y'like?" 

"Anything fun," (Y/N) offered, shooting him a bright smile, "But, I really love The Zombies right now." 

Perking up at her words, Harry glanced at her as he came to a stop sign. "The Zombies? What's your favorite song?" 

(Y/N) couldn't help the bubbling of conversation that sprouted from her lips then, the radio dials left behind in favor of talking with Harry. He was the perfect listener, even while he was carefully getting her home, she didn't doubt he was listening in. More than once, she wasn't sure if he was only being kind given the fact she was bubbly with alcohol, but he encouraged her ramblings, feeding her his own opinions and asking her what she thought. (Y/N) could have stayed curled up in this space for much longer than the short ten minutes between her apartment and Misty's home. 

By the time he pulled up to her apartment building, (Y/N) almost wanted to pout. 

Only the hum of the engine sounded as he paused in his seat, pulling his wallet from the pocket of his trousers. Casualy, he thumbed through the bills he had ticked inside the leather, grabbing more than (Y/N) would make in tips even during a busy Friday night shift at the restaurant. He passed the wad off to her.

"Use this to take a taxi to get your car tomorrow," Harry instructed, giving her a soft smile, "I know y'didn't really plan on leaving it overnight, so I'd like to take care of the drive back for you." 

(Y/N) hesitated. "Are you sure? That's kind of a lot." 

He shrugged, "'S my fault y'left it. I don't mind." 

Gingerly, she pulled the cash out of his hand. "Are you going to be there tomorrow?" 

"Probably not," he smiled, another laugh from his lungs. 

Juxtaposing his amusement, the beginnings of a pout touched her lips. "So, I won't see you again." 

"Not tomorrow," he clarified, raising a brow, "But, maybe soon." 

Just like he did for Misty, Harry walked (Y/N) up to the door of her building, keeping her from stumbling up the stairs that led to the glass door. 

"You're alright to get up by yourself, or do y'want me to go with you?" 

As much as she would have liked to get him to spend a handful of minutes more with her, (Y/N) shook her head. He'd done a lot for her tonight already. "I'll be okay, but thank you. For everything tonight. You kind of saved the day for Misty. 

"'S easier this way," he smiled, "And much more fun than trying to kick people out of the house with John doing nothing to help." 

"Is he your best friend?" (Y/N) asked, stalling a bit despite her better judgment. 

"A little," Harry said, lifting his shoulders in a shrug, "But he definitely doesn't have as good of taste in music as y'do." 

Much like the first time she spotted him this evening, (Y/N) felt her skin warm at his words. "If you get a chance to listen to that album, let me know what you think." 

"I definitely will, love. But, you've got to get to bed first." 

"Right," she said, attempting to sober up with a nod, "Thank you again." 

"Of course, (Y/N). Goodnight." 

Harry waited until she was safely inside, where she went on to practically float up the stairs with the sound of his accent wrapped around her name echoing in her head. Now in the quiet of her apartment, among her things, the bubbling excitement she'd felt throughout the evening simmered down to a dreamy haze. 

She'd had one of the most fun nights she'd had since moving to the city, and it ended with her being taken care of by one of the most beautiful men she'd ever seen. After tugging off her boots, she pulled out the cash he'd given her, counting out the abundant amount of bills he'd passed off to her. Thumbing through them, she stopped when she reached the middle of the wad, where a thick white business card was tucked between. 

Separating the cash from the card, (Y/N) flipped it over to find black script printed over the paper. 

Harry Styles. 

She didn't even try to bite back the wide smile touching her lips.

—————

brigitte bardot, model, actress, and singer; a timeless icon of the 60's

ahhhhh! so happy to finally share this little part of bardot with you guys! once again this is a patreon exclusive with every part after this one only being available on my page! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas please send them in!!!

[therealstacyfakename]

My Favorite 9-1-1 Fics of 2024

This year I read more fanfic than ever before so there's quite a few here. I just want to shout out these fic authors who brought me joy in 2024 and give you fic recs. Sorted by pairing (or lack thereof, there are gen fics in here) with word counts and summaries!

🔥 next to fics that feature a lot of smut or the smut was really memorable.

Buck/Eddie:

i found love where it wasn't supposed to be by chromatophorica - 12k words

Eddie thinks Bobby is Buck's dad when he joins the station. Assumptions lead to miscommunication.

Monday (You Could Fall Apart) by Pansys_goth_gf - 12k words

Evan Buckley enlists in the army fresh out of high school and falls in love with his best friend. Things spiral from there. From the prompt “Secretly Married”

if it weren’t for second chances by alasse - 47k words

When Buck doesn’t save Daniel, the Buckleys put him in foster care. Seventeen years later, Bobby meets a tall, lanky kid who can’t stop eating his pancakes at a church breakfast, and he gives him a phone number and an unconditional offer of help. A story about how Buck finds a chosen family, and with a few twists and turns, eventually gets to the 118, meets Eddie Diaz, and maybe finds himself a second and a third (or, an Evan Nash story)

Face to my face by EtoileGarden - 46k words

Girl dad buck!!! He fathers a child in his Buck 1.0 days and raises her starting at the end of season 1.

Waves (it comes and goes) by SunSpell80 - 40k words

Evan Buckley left his past behind when he left home for good at age 19. But an unexpected phone call on a quiet shift disrupts the life he's built for himself: forcing him to confront his past in order to build a new future. This fic is rather dark, it deals with discussion of past child sexual abuse and attempted murder.

the mark they saw on my collarbone by stockholm_syndrom - 27k words

Omega!Eddie and alpha!buck fic focused on gender roles, being a single parent, shame for being an omega, and Shannon. Highly highly recommend if you're into omegaverse.

🔥Second Best by Nejinee - 51k words

Eddie has convinced himself that helping Buck through his heat is perfectly normal behaviour between friends. It didn’t mean anything. omega!buck and alpha!Eddie fic where buck just wants to biohack his way out of his heats as fast as possible and Eddie wants to be a good friend and help!

🔥 Racing with the Brakes Cut by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 65k words

Buddie Fast & Furious AU with beautiful writing and smut that I haven't been able to stop thinking about

🔥 Let My Ink Stain Your Pages by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 107k words

Having just killed off his popular character, bestselling author Evan Buckley needs some new inspiration and fast. Luckily for him, Det. Eddie Diaz is about to stroll into his life. Castle AU!! my favorite fic by this author <3

new growth by notathingtoseehere - 15k words

Eddie in therapy after the fight club era.

good pretender by likeshipsonthesea - 85k words

an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need

I was like omg haha fwb sex leads to jealousy lol and then this fic was so moving and profound I couldn't put it down. I read this in one day.

Followed By Ghosts by itsanapothecary - 21k words

Instead of hiding the truth about Daniel from their children, Margaret and Philip memorialize their lost son in every one of their remaining children's accomplishments. Growing up, neither Maddie nor Buck felt like they could escape the shadow of their brother. When Buck finds the 118, he gets a chance to be his own person, although the looming attention from his parents and weight of expectations threatens to jeopardize what he's built in Los Angeles.

Buck/Tommy:

what are your intentions? by screamlet - 141k words

It's Tommy and Buck—the family they find and the family they make.

Listen listen when I say that one of the best pieces of literature I read this year was this fanfiction I mean it. It's buck and Tommy's love story, it's finding queer identity, it's family, it's everything. It's such a great exploration of what Bucktommy could've been. I wasn't 100% convinced when I read the first chapter but so glad I continued. I could gush about this fic for a while but don't want to spoil it.

my high hopes are getting low, but I know I'll never be alone by foxaquatica - 4k words

Buck and Tommy have moved in together and decide to tell their parents, so they invite them to brunch, and it almost goes well, except Margaret Buckley just keeps talking.

��Off the Ground by pepperlandgirl4 - 65k words series, marked in complete

Tommy is Abbey's ex-boyfriend and meets Buck when Buck is staying in Abbey's condo. A canon-compliant, different first meeting AU that explores the relationship through the events of season 2 and beyond.

((I personally miss the simpler times when Tommy/Abby was just a silly fan theory, well this fic is from that and very enjoyable. Also very hot))

Over the Rainbow by typicalopposite @typicalopposite - 40k words

the heavily angsty mpreg no one asked for that I just needed to tell anyway!

bucktommy mpreg written before the mpreg explosion post-breakup, it's crazy.

Rebuilding Burnt Bridges by LadyEyre - 65k words, ongoing series

When his grandmother passes away, Tommy is faced with the opportunity to reforge relationships with his estranged family.

Four works so far, very touching. Becomes more OC focused as you get into it, so not a lot of romantic development or scenes. A fic focused on family healing if you're into that.

🔥Paint Me in Neon and Make Me Glow by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - 12k words

the five times Buck had an exhibitionist kink and the one time Tommy fucked him about it.

the shaky things we’ve seen by origamifrogs - 41k words

After a 118 call gone awry, Buck and Tommy become emergency foster parents to a three month old baby named Annabelle. Or, Tommy begins (and begins again).

Ugh bucktommy with a kid & foster care themes in a 9-1-1 fic it's everything I love. A lot of interesting Tommy stuff too.

Tommy, Actually by rosetterer - 21k words

Tommy's life then and now. While moving he finds a box of memories and you see his life story.

Where It Wasn't Supposed to Be by Princessfbi - 45k words

Buck and Tommy meet and start dating while Tommy is at the 118, only Tommy is still closeted and that brings its own issues.

🔥No way it was our last night by harmonic-intervention (BackseatSerenade) - 18k words

In Buck's defense, the first time it happened, it had been an accident. Somehow, calling Tommy in this situation was the least embarrassing option. - bucktommy fix-it, Buck finds the worst doms he can so Tommy will come and take care of him. It goes as well as expected.

somebody out there who will by kitthekazoo - 61k words

Married to his best friend, Evan Buckley thought he had everything he needed to be happy. When Eddie offers to open the relationship so Buck can explore sexually outside of their marriage, he's hesitant, but when he spends an eye-opening, incredible night with Tommy Kinard, it's exactly what he needed. However, the problems in his marriage have just started, and the simplest solution - break up with Tommy - isn't an option at all.

Dispatcher Tommy Kinard AU by Wolf - 58k words, ongoing series

Tommy meets season 1 Buck because he works as a dispatcher due to an injury. Series is ongoing and currently retelling season 2.

you may find yourself (in another part of the world) by indigostohelit - 65k words

Buck & Tommy are sailors in 1805 that's all you need to know.

Buck/Eddie/Tommy:

🔥don't just stand there by laurenttheninth - 20k words

Description: aka "five times Eddie Diaz almost walks in on his best friend having sex with a man, and the one time he absolutely does."

Yeah ok so this fic is so hot and the +1 in the trope low key made my jaw drop the first time I read it, so I highly recommend (this was one of the first 9-1-1 fics I ever read lol)

Clue by mmmargo @usercelestial - 3.9k words

So this is really buck/Tommy/Eddie/josh... Buck and Tommy have weekly game nights with Josh and Eddie. Chimney is totally normal about not being invited and accidentally does some sleuthing to find out what's so special about these parties which leads him to an interesting discovery.

No Romantic Pairings:

more would never be enough by ShyAudacity - 12k words

When he hears it again, Buck turns towards the living room, the sound getting clearer. He shuffles forward slowly; Buck goes to adjust his helmet and ends up knocking it off his head, landing just out of reach near the wall. He grimaces, reaching to grab it, and out of the corner of his eye, Buck spots two small feet and a brown and white stuffed dog tucked in the corner behind the couch. OR Buck rescues a foster kid.

listen listen listen if you read ONE fic without romance you should read this one. I love dad buck and foster care In a 9-1-1 fic too much

Good People. Bad Parents. by datleggy - 1.8k words

Buck shares some things and the team realizes his parents were abusive.

I feel it crash down (down on me) by smilingbuckley - 2k words

Buck discovered something in therapy and he talks about it with Bobby.

You would cry too, if it happened to you by Maximoff_Wanda - 2k words

The first birthday Buck spent on the 118, Bobby made him a cake and he was so confused as to who it was for cause no one has ever made him a birthday cake.

Knight’s Move by telm_393 - 14k words

Men usually develop schizophrenia between their late teens and early twenties. Albert Han, probationary firefighter with the LAFD, is twenty-three years old when the monsters move in. On a bad night, Chimney and Buck intervene. Nothing about this is easy. This fic is marked buddie but literally has no romance, it's about Albert suffering a psychotic break and his brother taking care of him.

Bonus Tarlos...

so I discovered 9-1-1 in July and didn't start Lone Star till October and still haven't actually finished it bc I'm in denial. So I have not yet gotten into Tarlos fanfic in earnest. But I love this series:

every beat of you, every measure and note by Flogsam - 50k words complete.

A series of fics about Carlos dealing with brain damage after the season 4 kidnapping. Very moving.

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of fics that deal with addiction and/or recovery as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers. You can find my other recs here.

- Louis / Harry -

⊹ Cocaine for Breakfast by guccikings *

(NR, 309k, drug dealing) Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of.

⊹ Branching Out by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo

(M, 266k, famous/not famous) the one where Louis is the star of a reality TV show and wants Harry to be on it, and Harry still hasn't forgotten the drugged out Louis that he met in a restaurant bathroom four years ago.

⊹ barefoot in the wildest winter (series) by bravestyles

(NR, 118k, famous/not famous) Harry has a heroin addiction, and Louis doesn't know how much longer he can stay.

⊹ Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k, famous/not famous) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

⊹ Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 144k, rehab) After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. 

⊹ A Thousand Miles From Comfort by @littlelouishiccups

(E, 74k, famous/not famous) In which Louis is a closeted gay actor and a recovering addict with a troubled past. Harry is the personal trainer who helps him get his life back in shape.

⊹ Bring It Back That Old Feeling by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings *

(M, 57k, established relationship) After six years together, Harry thought there wasn’t anything that he didn’t know about his husband, and no problem they couldn’t solve with a kiss and a snuggle. After a painful year of booze and heartache, he realizes some problems are much harder to fix, but the wait is always worth it.

⊹ The Fire and the Fate by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(E, 56k, A Star Is Born au) Harry is a troubled musician about to reach the end of his rope when he finds Louis singing in a club one night. He’s instantly mesmerised by the man with blue eyes and breathtaking voice.

⊹ take a sad song and make it better by amory

(NR, 43k, canon divergence) Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, once best friends and two fourths of the biggest band of all time, are now complete strangers. The only thing that connects them is Jude, Harry's son and Louis' beloved godson.

⊹ sent by the sun by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon

(E, 51k, historical) In 1970s Los Angeles, Harry is a groupie who aches to feel alive. Louis is the lead singer of a rock band who aches to know him.

⊹ With These Arms Folded by @taggiecb

(NR, 21k, songwriting) Harry receives a curious email one sunny summer morning, and his life almost immediately gets turned upside down buy a force that's bigger than any storm he's seen outside his window

- Rare Pairs -

⊹ Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 47k, Zayn/Liam) After secretly writing and producing their first album in ten years, One Direction is weeks away from releasing their first new single and announcing a world tour.

⊹ It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis)  the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(After Halloween)

*Adam woke this morning on cloud nine, Lucifer told him he loved him, Lucifer made love to him, and they had so much fun at the Halloween party, Adam practically melted when he felt a hand run itself through his hair and gently scratch his scalp*

Lucifer: How did you sleep last night?

Adam: It was the best sleep I had in a while, I always loved you and you gave me everything I wanted and more.

Lucifer: You deserve it, tonight I am taking you to Ozzie’s.

Adam: What is Ozzie’s?

Lucifer: A really nice club in the Lust Ring and afterwards we are going to go to the best resort where I am going to make passionate love to you.

*Adam felt giddy in a way he never felt before, he never really had a relationship and had a relationship where he got to go on dates, the less said about his marriage to Lilith the better, it was nice being married to Eve, but they had to spend most of their time having children and starting humanity, Lucifer was also Adam’s soulmate, they got dressed and went downstairs, Lucifer started to make pancakes for everyone, Adam sitting close to Lucifer while Lucifer let Adam sample a little bit of everything he was making, Alastor watched in disgust as Adam and Lucifer were being curtesy, his plot to use Lilith to keep Lucifer from Adam failed, Charlie and Vaggie walked down*

Charlie: Are you excited for Thanksgiving?

Adam: You celebrate Thanksgiving in Hell, that is mainly an America thing.

Lucifer: Well we have Sinners from all around the world and they bring their traditions with them, you will see some people celebrating Dia De Los Muertos today. Also it is an excuse to have a big feast.

Adam: Well unlike Halloween, we celebrate Thanksgiving in Heaven because we must talk about what we are thankful for.

Vaggie: It is nice that they at least allow us Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Charlie: What are you two doing today?

Lucifer: I am taking Adam on his first date.

Charlie: That sounds fun.

*Adam felt Angel Dust hug him*

Angel Dust: I knew you would get your short king.

Adam: I am so happy, Luci is talking me to Ozzie’s.

Angel Dust: Lucky, I am taking you shopping so you can be gorgeous tonight.

*after they had breakfast, Angel Dust and Cherri Bomb took Adam to the mall for shopping*

Adam: so what kind of place is Ozzie's?

Angel: It's classy mixed with sex. So classy sex. The entertainment I hear is amazing that place is always booked.

Cherri: Perk of dating a King I guess, you can get in anywhere you want.

They were looking through all the clothes and Adam left the makeup picking to Angel and Cherri, he didn't have the first clue on what would look good or even how to do it for himself.

It would probably look like a toddler drew on his face with a Sharpe.

Adam: I've never been on a date before.

Angel: Never? But you were married.

Adam: Yeah but it wasn't, hi nice to meet you let's get to know each other. It was here's your wife go fuck like rabbits and make babies.

Angel: Never thought about it like that.

Cherri: What about a dress?

Adam blushed: I'm still a man you know.

Angel: You're one curvaceous babe my good dude, show off what big daddy G gave you.

[hollywoodroses]

Do You Want a Record Deal?

You have just been promoted at elecktra records but you haven’t signed a band or artist yet. what you discover one summer night is something that will change everyone’s life forever

a re-writing of the dirt netflix film where motley crue was actually discovered by a woman

warnings: course language, fingering, oral - female receiving, slight fem!slash

It was a nice warm summer evening in los angeles and you were checking out the night-life after grabbing a hot dog from a street vendor.

After a few minutes you came across a night club with a large line outside. You stopped to look at the sign and it read: ‘motley crue, tonite’ you even saw the time of the show so you decided to walk to the front of the line to see if you could get in without a ticket.

“Hi, Cheryl Goldberg I just got promoted a elecktra records.” You explained to the buff security guard while struggling to show your business card.

“Back of the line.” the security guard responded while ignoring you.

“No, you don’t understand I am a record executive. I mean, I haven’t signed any bands yet….”

“Back of the line, bitch!”

You were shocked as the security guard slapped your hand and your hot dog fell to the ground. You shrugged your shoulders and walked to the back of the line.

——

It had been an hour since you waited but that didn’t bother you because the night was still young. Finally after a few moments the line started to move and soon enough you were at the front showing your I.D.

Once you entered you saw a big crowd near the front of the stage but you wanted to stay in the back just to observe everything. In five minutes the lights went low and you heard over the intercom:

‘Ladies & Gentlemen, from Los Angeles Mötley Crüe!’

As you heard the introduction, you saw four men walk onto the stage and start the show. You heard the beginning of a drum beat and as the song started playing you were not surprised that the crowd went wild, especially the women in the room.

While enjoying the concert, you wanted to talk to the audience members around you. You started a casual conversation with a guy standing beside you.

“so how long has this band been together?” you asked the twenty-something year old.

“Where have you been, girlfriend? Motley Crue is the talk of the town. Sooner or later this band is going to get a record deal.”

A thought suddenly came to your mind, you can be the one to give this band their record deal.

You couldn’t wait for the show to be over to share your idea with the boys.

——

You knew the bands who performed would go to the rainbow bar and grill after the show for drinks and an early breakfast.

While sitting at a booth a far distance from the band, you were drinking a cold coffee and thinking of what to say to them.

Once you had the courage to make a move, you left your seat and walked to where the boys were sitting.

“Hey, great show out there you really rocked.” you told the group

“Who are you?” the bassist asked with a confused look on his face.

You introduced yourself as you sat beside him, “Cheryl Goldberg, elecktra records I think if we work together we can create something really great...”

As you got comfortable in your seat, you suddenly felt a hand undo the zipper of your jeans. You thought you were imagining it as it was 3am and you had been awake for many hours, working. Once the mysterious hand got your jeans and underwear down you felt a finger rub your clit. You kind of giggled and tried to limit a moan. You noticed the band members smiling at you but also ignored it as you felt like you might be high. When you felt something wet replace the fingers, you jumped out of your seat.

“Hey, hey!” you yelled in shock.

An unnamed woman poked her head from under the table, “what, not your style? I swing both ways.” she told you, you couldn’t believe she was being serious.

Yes, you did kiss a girl at a party once but this was over the top for you.

“No, thank you” you replied.

“Well, if you are interested here is my number”. She gave you a piece of paper and you put it in your pocket not thinking too much of it.

the lead singer laughed when you blushed, “don’t worry, girl we don’t judge.”

When everyone at the table laughed you noticed one member of the group with a serious expression, he looked older than the others like he was too old for the cheeky fun and games. You brushed it off, took back your seat and got down to business.

“As I was saying, I am from elecktra records. So do you want a record deal?”

The boys were speechless and you were worried that you made the mistake of approaching them.

“What do you think?” You heard one of them say.

You smiled and knew you won them over.

“Elecktra records signed us with a five album deal and the party was just beginning.” voice over

end

[citizenscreen]

Joan Woodbury and Natalie Wood join Lieutenant Colonel Clem J Statler (Marines) to kick off “Toys for Tots" at the Los Angeles Breakfast Club on November 30, 1955.

[prettyyoungandbored]

Drunk - Johnny Knoxville

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Fem!Reader (“Babydoll”)

Author’s Note: Takes place while the two are dating. Also, you guys get to meet Y/N’s best friend who will become an important character in later stories!

NOT MY GIF

“Babydoooooooll.”

Y/N looked up from her laptop to see Johnny peeking at her from the door frame of her office.

“Hello, handsome” she chuckled.

A lovesick grin was stuck on his face as he made his way to her couch. He laid out like a centerfold for her to enjoy.

She shook her head. “You got my email about the final edits, right?”

“Sure did. But I’m not here to talk work with you.”

She snorted. “I should’ve known better. What’s up?”

“The boys and I are going out tonight,” he said.

“I’ll have my cell phone on me incase you need me to bail you out of jail,” she responded.

He pouted. “You don’t wanna come?”

“I can’t. Remember Whitney and I are having a girl’s night at my place?”

“Ah, that’s right.”

Whitney was Y/N’s best friend who Johnny had yet to meet. They two women had been thick as thieves since high school. She was the first to know about Y/N and Johnny’s relationship, other than Holly and Steve-O.

He also knew that if Whitney didn’t like him, he was done for.

“But I know you’re gonna have so much fun and you can tell me all about it Saturday,” Y/N said. She looked up from her laptop. “Maybe Saturday morning if you bring me breakfast in bed.”

He sat up. “What do you want me to make?”

“Who said anything about cooking breakfast?” she smirked.

His lips curved into a knowing grin. “Oh, Babydoll, I’ll-.”

“You can just grab me a breakfast sandwich from McDonalds and present it to me in bed.”

His grin fell as Y/N cackled. He shook his head. “Not funny.”

Y/N walked over and kissed his cheek. “You’ll get over it Saturday morning.”

=======================================

Hours later, Johnny sat in a private room of the strip club, the world spinning around him. He felt out of his own body. He could barely move from the couch.

That’s when Jeff walked into the private room.

“PJ, time to get out of the room,” he nudged Johnny.

“I wanna…I wan…”

“C’mon man. Let’s-.”

“I wanna go home.”

“I’ll get a cab to your apartment.”

“No, I want Y/N.”

Jeff sighed. “Ok, I’ll send you in a cab to her place.”

======================================

“I love these women so much.”

Whitney nodded as she sipped her wine. The two sat on Y/N’s couch as The Golden Girls played on the TV.

Girl’s night was a sacred tradition between the two since high school that continued when they both moved to Los Angeles. It required four essentials - comfy clothes, wine, food, and a show or a movie.

Tonight, Whitney opted for a navy blue tracksuit that made her auburn colored hair pop. Y/N wore oversized sweatpants and one of Johnny’s graphic tees that she swiped from him.

As both women took a bite of their slices of pizza, Whitney asked, “How’d you find this place again?”

“PJ ordered it last week. It’s good, right?”

“It’s amazing! I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had pizza this good.” She looked over at Y/N. “How are you and PJ doing?”

Y/N’s lips curved into an embarrassed smile that she tried to pull back. Whitney nodded, accept that as answer.

“Oh you’re in deep,” she chuckled.

Y/N set her slice back down on the plate and turned toward her best friend. “I just…whenever I’m with him, everything makes sense.”

“In what way?”

“Like, it just feels right. I don’t feel anxious or on edge. It’s like that feeling you get under the covers after being outside in the freezing cold, you know? It’s that level of comfort.”

Whitney grinned cheekily. “You love him,” she teased in a sing-song voice.

“I-ok, look-.”

Before Y/N could continue, she heard a knock at her door.

“Must be the neighbors or something,” she said, getting up from the couch and going toward the front door.

Y/N opened it to see Jeff holding up an inebriated Johnny.

“PJ?” Y/N asked, concerned about his current state.

“Your boy got shitfaced and wanted to come here so, here he is,” Jeff explained.

He pushed Johnny onto Y/N, as she grabbed onto him. Jeff then walked away, leaving Y/N with her stupidly drunk boyfriend.

Johnny shot her a lazy smile. “Hi Babydoll.”

She could smell the liquor from his breath. “Oh, you definitely need some water.”

“I’m fi-I’m good.”

“No, you’re not. C’mon now.”

She led him to the living room where Whitney watched in confusion.

He pointed at Whitney. “Holy shit, it’s you.”

“Holy shit it’s me,” she laughed. She turned to Y/N. “How the did he get here?”

“He got dropped off by one of his friends,” Y/N sighed. “Whit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t plan for this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Whitney reassured. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to meet the infamous PJ Clapp.”

Y/N helped Johnny get settled on the couch. “Do not move,” she told him. “I’m getting you water. Whit, make sure he doesn’t touch the wine.”

“You got it!” Whitney said as she grabbed the bottle and Y/N’s glass and moved it to the nightstand on her side of the couch.

She then turned to see Johnny looking at her.

“I...uh…hi,” he said, giving her a lazy wave.

“Hi Johnny or PJ or whatever you want me to call you.”

“You can call me wha-whatever. I can call you…can I call you Whitney?”

“It’s my name so yeah, you can.”

He nodded. “Good, good.”

Y/N came back with a glass of water. She sat by Johnny and handed it to him.

“Can you drink this for me, please?” she asked.

He took a sip as Y/N rubbed his back. “Looks, like you had fun at the strip club,” she said.

“I got a lap dance,” he admitted, nodding his head.

“How was it?” Whitney asked.

“I don’t know.”

Y/N and Whitney exchanged looks, the women fighting smiles on her face.

“Did you at least tip her well?” Y/N asked.

“I kept my tip in my pants! I swear!”

The two roared in laughter, much to Johnny’s confusion.

“Honey, I meant did you give her a nice tip?” Y/N asked.

His eyes widened. “OHHHH! I think one of the guys did, so yeah.” He paused for a moment. “Oh yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” Y/N said patting his leg. “I’m gonna get the bed ready for you. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

Johnny nodded. Y/N left the room as Whitney turned to Johnny.

“You’re gonna have a killer headache tomorrow,” she remarked, sipping her wine. “Luckily, Y/N knows a fantastic breakfast burrito place that will cure that.”

Johnny motioned for Whitney to lean in closer. She moved an inch, still keeping a distance. “Dont tell Y/N,” he began, using a stage whisper, “but I’m in love with her.”

Whitney nodded, fighting every ounce in her body to not laugh. “I won’t as long as you tell her when you’re sober.”

Johnny gave her a thumbs up. “Also, don’t tell her you terrify me.”

Whitney’s eyes widened in delight. “You’re scared of me? That’s so sweet!”

“You’re her best friend, man, and like, if I fuck up, you’ll beat my ass. I’m still waiting for you to beat my ass for going to a strip club.”

“Johnny, PJ - whatever your name is - you make Y/N the happiest she’s been in a long, long time. As long as you treat her with the respect she deserves, that’s all that matters to me. If you don’t, then yeah I’ll beat your ass.”

He nodded. “You got it.”

He held out his hand, baffling Whitney who shook it to just keep the peace. She made a note, however, to never let him live it down.

“Which strip club did you go to?” she asked, leaning back on the arm of the sofa

“I don’t know. Dave picked it out.”

Y/N returned to the room. “Ok, let’s get you in the bed,” she said.

Johnny’s face lit up, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Absolutely not like that, Clapp. Now, c’mon.”

She grabbed his hand and helped him off the couch, leading him into the bedroom. Whitney followed, not wanting to miss a single moment of this.

“Are you gonna join me?” Johnny asked.

“In a little bit,” Y/N answered.

She led him to the bed. “Ok, now lay down for me and I’ll get your shoes off.”

He fell back onto the bed, lifting his foot for Y/N. Whitney watched from the door frame, sipping her wine.

“You have this man whipped,” she remarked. “Incredible.”

Johnny groaned. “ ‘M not whipped!”

Y/N pulled off the second shoe and grabbed his legs, moving them on to the bed. “Don’t move.”

“Yes m’am.”

“Night PJ,” Whitney teased as Y/N walked out of the bedroom.

He grumbled something as the auburn-haired woman turned off the light.

Back in the living room, Y/N sighed. “Whit, I am so, so sorry.”

“For what?” Whitney asked with a laugh. “There’s nothing to be sorry for!”

“It’s girl’s night though.”

“Hun, it’s fine. Besides, we’re grabbing dinner on Sunday. Speaking of, if you wanna invite PJ, you should.”

“Really?” Y/N asked.

“Of course. I need to get to know my best friend’s man when he’s not wasted,” she laughed. “But, I will say, so far I like him for you.”

Y/N smiled. “Yeah, I like him for me too.”

Whitney pulled her best friend in for hug. “I’m really happy for you, but if he hurts you, you know I have to kick his ass.”

“I know.”

“Good, because I told him that while you were out of the room.”

She grabbed her purse and swung it over her shoulder. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

Before Y/N could say anything, the sounds of Johnny hurling into the trash can distracted them. Whitney pointed to the bedroom.

“Good luck.”

====================================

Johnny woke up to what felt like a hammer hitting his head continuously. He groaned, keeping his eyes closed. The only thing worse than the headache were the waves is nausea that overwhelmed him.

“Good morning, handsome.”

He opened one eye to see Y/N walk into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his forearm.

“How bad was I last night?” he asked.

“The good news is you didn’t piss yourself.”

“Good.”

“You did, however, redecorate my trash can. And my floor. I took care of it though.”

He groaned more. “Oh, Babydoll, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” she reassured, softly chuckling. “I am glad I slept on the couch.”

He pouted. “You didn’t.”

“Oh yeah! After the piss incident, I wasn’t taking any chances,” she chuckled.

He sighed. “I’m sorry I was a mess and ruined your night.”

“You didn’t ruin my night. You, did leave quite the impression on Whitney.”

He felt his stomach drop to his ass. He leaned up immediately. “What I did do? What did I say?”

“You did nothing wrong!” she said. “She thinks you’re hysterical. You won her over, which I told you you would.”

He exhaled, relieved. He fell back onto the bed, his hand on his forehead. “Thank God.”

“She actually wants you to come to dinner with us and a couple other people on tomorrow night.”

He smiled. “I’ll be there and on my best behavior.”

Y/N pat his arm. “Good. Now, I’m gonna get you some aspirin and water. If you take it for me, I’ll give you the best breakfast burrito of your life.”

“How about I take the medicine and you come into bed with me? I’m not ready to eat yet.”

“Works for me.” She pecked his cheek and left the room.

Johnny fell back on the bed and sighed. His nausea and headache subsided as guilt overcame him. He didn’t deserve to get away like this. He didn’t deserve a woman like Y/N.

Then he remembered something from last night.

“Dont tell Y/N , but I’m in love with her.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t mean it, he did. There was no question about it. But now he felt compelled to do something about it, considering he told her best friend he would tell her when he was sober.

Before he could do anything, Y/N returned with a glass of water and two aspirin. He took them from her hands, shoving the pills in his mouth and then chugging the water.

He watched as Y/N crawled under the covers beside him. He threw an arm around her as she snuggled into his chest.

Here it went…

“Hey Babydoll?”

She looked up at him with those eyes he loved. “Yeah?”

He opened his mouth to say those three words, but realized the moment wasn’t as right as he thought. He didn’t want to tell her like this, not when she deserved to hear it in a better setting than this.

So he smiled, pecked her lips and forehead and pulled her close to him as he began plotting.

[max-headroomfiles]

my top 5 Watcher Entertainment shows

in honor of Watcher's fifth anniversary and the premise of Puppet History S7, I will be particpating in @watcherwiki's Top 5 Watcher shows for the anniversary of Watcher Entertainment.

let's begin <3

starting with number 5, we have Mystery files !

this was actually the first show that got me into Watcher Entertainment, back in July 2023, I got back from a bookstore and saw a video about the Max Headroom incident from their channel watcher and it got me hooked ever since. It still holds a special place in my heart considering again it's the first show I saw from Watcher Entertainment, and I love a lot of mysteries. There is certainly a lot of charm within Mystery Files that I enjoy, and it is aesthetically pleasing.

I think my favorite eps have to be Max Headroom (obviously), Chupacabra, Sky Trumpets, The Tungska Event, The Battle of Los Angeles, The Oakville Blobs, and Voynich Manuscript <3.

and at number four is Are You Scared?

the show feels very reminiscence of when I was a kid, I would listen to narrators read out creepypastas/spooky stories. The way Watcher does it feels very intense while also lighthearted (sometimes) mixing horror and comedy.

it also has amazing lighting which I completely adore, it's almost hauntingly pretty for a show about two guys bantering with each other in the void reading about the scariest thing you can imagine.

my favorite episodes have been Smile Dog, the other dog episode, Milk White, Happiest Place on Earth, the Holiday special, Outside the Bedroom Episode, and the Ocean episode.

and at number 3 is Dish Granted, my beloved <3

what can I say about Dish Granted, it's very comforting, it's sweet by the premise of cooking something special for your friends, and it's the first Steven Lim show I've watched !! and also that being said, it's the very show that inspired my love for cooking back when I was in cooking club for my high school year.

I just wish it would make a comeback somehow, or maybe there'd be a new food show similar to Dish Granted, it's up to Steven if he wants to or not. either way, 10/10 show :]

favorite episodes include the seafood episode, the oyster smore episode, the mac-and cheese pie, and the taco episode.

and at number two is Weird Wonderful World !!!

the ultimate comfort show and my second favorite show from the long-limbed man himself Shane Madej, this is by far one of the very best of the bunch, bringing in curiosity and comedy, learning about new places around the Californian state (my home state) that makes me want to visit (even though I am on a budget). And it is the one show that makes me forget Shane and Ryan are mainly known for ghost hunting and not just going on silly adventures.

favorite episodes include the pie episode, the sunset ranch episode, the soda pop episode, the theatre episode, the hat episode, and the breakfast club episode.

and finally my number one is ...

Ghost Files Alone, ladies and gentlemen.

I had some trouble with what would be my number one, funnily enough if I could, half of the shows would be on my number one list. But I think I'll have Ghost Files Alone as my top one pick.

now, what I can say about Ghost Files Alone, many things actually. For starters, ever since I got into Watcher and by proxy getting into the original Ghost Files and its past self Buzzfeed Unsolved I have long admired the very host of the show -- Ryan Bergara. He is honestly one of the bravest and genuine ghost hunters whose content I've come across, and back then I wasn't even into ghost hunting content, so the fact Ryan's shows are what got me into the learning about the paranormal is a statement in itself. And as someone who also has an anxiety disorder, I've been impressed with how Ryan had been able to handle his fear over the years of ghost hunting, even if there were times where he was genuinely terrified (and rightfully so), he always managed to pull through.

and when Ghost Files Alone came out, it really did remind me of why I admired Ryan so much, especially at the very ending of the final installment of Ghost Files Alone when he left the house and the monologue of overcoming your own Malvern Manor.

it may be a short series with only three episodes, I still admire the way it was made and once again I hold nothing but respect for the effort Ryan Bergara put into the series, and for his bravery once again. That's why it is on my top one.

thanks for reading everybody :] and thanks Watcher Entertainment for giving us some great content for the past five years.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

James Dean biopic about late actor’s gay college romance in the works

A film is being made that will explore movie icon James Dean’s private life, including an alleged gay relationship with his college roommate. Surviving James Dean will be based on William Bast’s 2006 memoir of the same name, and will be directed by Guy Guido (Madonna and the Breakfast Club), who has also written the film’s screenplay. Bast’s book details his own relationship with the star, who he met while studying drama in Los Angeles in the early 1950s. The two became friends and roommates, and eventually started a romantic relationship, with Bast claiming that they agreed to keep the nature of their relationship private to avoid harming Dean’s career. No casting choices have yet been announced for the film, but Guido has expressed his preference for the lead role. “I am obsessed with getting the look right when it comes to casting and directing a film about a famous person,” he said. “I want people to feel as if they are watching the real James Dean on the screen.” (x)

[thislovintime]

Photo 2 by Anne Thorkelson; photo 3 courtesy of Written In Our Hearts on Facebook.

"My little sister doesn’t even think of me as her brother any more — she thinks of me as a TV star.” - Peter Tork, TV Guide, 1967

“I read in one magazine that Peter thinks I don’t think of him as my brother any more, I think of him as a star. Well it’s true I think of him as a star, but I do think of I’m as a brother too and a very nice one. Peter is the kind of person I’m sure every one who likes excitement would like to live with. He likes to play guitar a lot and will do most of the things you want him to. If you want to get him a gift, Peter likes good books, and groovy shirts like the one on the cover of ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ single. Peter is good at imitations like W. C. Fields. […] He can do Donald Duck too.” - Anne Thorkelson, 16 Spec, Summer 1967

“Peter ran away from home twice. This happened when he was three years old and lived in Detroit. The first time, he ran away from home to get out of going to nursery school; the second time, he ran away to go to New York. He didn’t make it that trip, but he finally did many years later. [...] Peter’s very first ambition was to dismantle our phonograph, and unhappily he did with great speed and great thoroughness. Peter’s first job was as a paper boy. None of us, including Peter, remember how much he made. He was always liberal when it came to money — and he still is. Peter loved to start clubs when he was growing up. He founded the Wild Goose Club in Madison and the Tiger Club in Mansfield Center. In the Tiger Club, all the members had code names Peter’s was ‘Phantom Tiger’ (P. T. — get it?).” - Nick Thorkelson, The Monkees: Here We Are (1967)

“Peter likes people around him. His old house had been too small to accommodate his many friends and acquaintances, so he had decided to buy a bigger one. The new house is almost too beautiful to describe, but I’ll try. Peter’s home sits on the side of a mountain, facing the valley, and on a clear day you can see all of Los Angeles from his terrace. It’s a truly breathtaking view. The shrubbery surrounding the grounds and the pool is a sort of desert brush, and there are orange and lemon trees growing on the side of ‘his’ mountain! The inside of the house is something else again. There are a total of 14 rooms, seven bathrooms including a sauna bath — and there are five fireplaces! Peter had one room made soundproof for those loud jam sessions musicians are known to have! During our two-weeks visit with Peter (which, by the way, was our first trip to California), we had a wonderful time. There was never a dull moment. We had barbecues on the patio, pool parties, and we went just about everywhere! Peter took us to Disneyland for an entire day, to the famed Coconut Grove nightclub, to Whiskey A Go Go, and we even went dancing at the Factory — a private club where all the stars hang out! But, of course, the nicest part of the whole trip was being able to spend so much time with Peter. The days seemed to just whiz by, and pretty soon it was time for us to leave California and go home. The last thing I remember was Peter shouting, ‘See you all soon!’ — as we boarded the plane that would take us back to Connecticut. After a few weeks, everything returned to normal. Then, late one August night — the eve of my 16th birthday, to be exact — my sister Anne heard a noise in the driveway. She went to the window and saw a strange car pull up. Before she had time to wonder who it was, out popped Peter! What a surprise — and what a birthday present! Peter was so exhausted after his trip from California that he fell asleep on our living room couch — moments after he entered the house! The next morning at breakfast, Peter was the first to wish me a happy birthday. Then he told me that his gift for me — a bright red MG-TF sports car — would be arriving in a few days! That nearly knocked me for a loop, and I couldn’t believe my ears! In Connecticut, we are allowed to drive at 16 years of age — and needless to say, that car was the greatest birthday gift I ever received! But Peter had a couple of additional surprises in store for us. He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt which he had especially made in Hollywood. And since my brother Nicky and I admired it so much — he reached into his suitcase and gave us each one! Anne was right there with her handy camera to take pictures of ‘The Three Musketeers’!” - Christopher Thorkelson, 16 Spec, Summer 1969

[olafsings]

History Today: February 7, 2025

February 7, 1985: The Breakfast Club (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) was released in Los Angeles, California.

[vveirdvvitch]

Cabin By The Lake (2000) dir. Po-Chih Leong

Starting Judd Nelson & Hedy Burress

A screenwriter, who lives in a cabin by the lake near Los Angeles, drowns young women, then goes back to visit their bodies and do their laundry.

I never see people talk about this movie and it changed me. I already had a crush on Judd from The Breakfast Club. At 15, I was very confused about why I wanted him to chain me up in a room with only a mattress. I was also confused about why they never kissed.