#or a photo of the outside of my house (this is an exaggeration but. still)

[rafecameronssl4t]

73 Questions with Vogue || Drew Starkey x actress!reader

Summary: just you participating in 73 Questions with Vogue and it goes viral!!!

Warnings: fluff!!!

Word count: 1,935

A/n: It's been so long since I've written a Drew fic!!!!!!! Also I got inspired by my previous acc's fic so if it seems familiar to some of you who followed me from there, don't come at me, I loved the idea too much lol. CAN SOMEONE PLS SEND ME REQUESTS FOR DREW FICS???

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Hello!" You greet the interviewer with a bright smile, swinging open the door to reveal him and his camera. "Hi, Y/n! Mind if we come in and ask you 73 questions?" he asks, his tone friendly and warm. "Yeah, of course! Come on in," you say, stepping aside and holding the door wide open, gesturing for them to enter as the camera pans through the foyer of your house. The space is beautifully designed, with soft lighting that gives it a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

"Wow, what a gorgeous house you have," the interviewer remarks, his voice filled with genuine awe as his eyes take in the sophisticated yet comfortable décor. "Thank you!" you respond, the compliment warming you as you flash a radiant smile. "Is this your favourite house?" The interviewer asks, already settling into the rhythm of the questions as you lead them down the hallway and into the open-plan living area.

"Yes, it definitely is. It's in my home city, and Charleston means so much to me, just like this house does," you say, your eyes lighting up as you gesture around. The view of the beach through the large windows makes the space feel even more special. "I love the view," the interviewer comments, looking out at the sunset that bathes the room in warm golden light. "The sunset looks amazing from here."

"It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?" you say with a soft chuckle. "I love spending time in this room specifically. It feels like a little sanctuary." You both share a laugh, enjoying the peaceful moment. "What's your morning routine like?" The interviewer asks as the camera follows you through the coastal-themed living room toward the kitchen. You pause for a moment, thinking about your answer.

"I haven't had much of a routine the past few months because of work, but currently, I wake up to a strong cup of coffee and a walk through downtown," you share with a soft smile. "It’s become a little ritual to clear my mind before everything gets too busy." As you stroll through the warm, inviting spaces of your home, the camera captures the personal touches that reflect your personality—a mix of elegance and laid-back comfort.

A question about your career comes next, and you happily share some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from your latest film. "This," you begin, the affection in your tone unmistakable, "is a magnet Sydney gave me when we wrapped filming Immaculate earlier this year." You glance at the picture, a grin spreading across your face. "It’s a photo of the two of us in our nun costumes... let’s just say, not doing very nun-like things." You laugh, the absurdity of the memory still fresh, and hold the magnet up for the camera to focus.

The image shows the two of you mid-laughter, each holding a cigarette with exaggerated defiance, your habits slightly askew, as though caught mid-rebellion. "What's the best compliment you've received?" the interviewer asks, a hint of curiosity in their voice. You pause, your expression thoughtful. "Oh, that's a tough one," you say, your lips curling into a playful smile.

"I think the best compliment I’ve ever gotten was when someone said, 'You're like Meryl Streep… but, you know, with fewer Oscars.’" You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "It was the kind of backhanded compliment that made me laugh for days." The interviewer laughs along with you. "That’s a good one," he says, clearly entertained. As you make your way towards the outside deck, the interviewer continues with another question. "Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?"

You grin as you lean casually against the railing, looking out at the beach below. "Oh, definitely FaceTiming," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’m terrible at replying to text messages. I’d much rather see people's live reactions, y’know?" A more personal question comes next, and you smile thoughtfully as the interviewer asks, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?”

You nod, taking a moment before responding. "I lean on my family and friends—they keep me grounded. And I remind myself that pressure is a privilege. It means people care about what I do, and that means a lot." Your voice softens as you speak, the sincerity of your words clear as you step into your home office, showcasing the awards and accolades lining the shelves. The conversation turns to your personal life, and a warm, affectionate smile spreads across your face.

"Congratulations on reaching your two-year anniversary with Drew!" The interviewer says with a grin, and you beam in response. "Thank you!" you reply, your eyes sparkling as you think of him. "Drew is incredible. He’s my biggest supporter, my partner in everything, and honestly, just my favourite person. It’s been such a special journey since starting my career, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side."

"What's the key to a successful relationship?" He asks. You pause as you walk through the hallway, your gaze softening as you think. "I think it’s communication and a lot of patience. No relationship is perfect, but being able to talk things through and genuinely listen to each other makes all the difference." You smile, adding, "Oh, and laughter—if you can laugh together, you can get through just about anything."

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and a familiar voice rings out, instantly making your face light up. "Oh, there’s Drew right now!" you say, smiling brightly as you move toward the foyer. The camera follows you, capturing the scene as Drew enters, with Nellie, your cocker spaniel, bounding beside him. "Hey, baby," He greets you as he slips off his sunglasses, pulling you close for a tender kiss

When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he spots the camera. "Oh, 73 Questions with Vogue?" he asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggle, nodding your head. "I forgot you were doing that today," he chuckles. “Go ahead, continue your interview," he adds with a fond look before walking off with Nellie. As the camera returns to you, you make your way toward the stairs, glancing over your shoulder to find Drew already on the floor, happily playing with Nellie.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection. "What's something people don’t know about you?" the interviewer asks, pulling you back into the conversation. You pause, thinking for a second. "I’m actually allergic to most flowers," you reveal with a sheepish laugh. "Really? I wouldn’t have known," the interviewer responds, clearly surprised. "Oh, absolutely! When we film Outer Banks, they have to shoot around the flowers, or I'd be a sneezing mess," you confess, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.

The tour continues through luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. “What’s your pet peeve?” You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, definitely when people chew loudly. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Chase is notorious for doing it on purpose, so I avoid him during my lunch breaks," you add, giggling at the memory. "Where was the best vacation you’ve been taken to?" the interviewer inquires as you step into your shared bedroom with Drew, the ocean stretching out just outside the windows.

"I think I’d have to say Vienna with Drew for my birthday," you say, smiling over your shoulder as you look out at the view. “A song you replay often?” "Hm, I think Charlie, Last Name Wilson," you say with a grin, rifling through the records. "It never gets old, and it’s super catchy." You smile as you pick it out. "Most of you guys would know that this song is also Drew and Austin’s favourite, so we always play it on set," you chuckle. "Does the rest of the Outer Banks cast like it too?" the interviewer asks, laughing along. "They don’t have much choice," you joke with a grin.

"Is there anything from any set that you've taken home with you?" The interviewer asks eagerly. “Oh, I love this question!" you exclaim, opening a drawer to reveal a variety of souvenirs. "This is the bag my character 'Whiskey' from Glass Onion owned," you say, showing off the brown frill bag. "And here’s a pack of Italian cigarettes from Immaculate, they’re just props, by the way," you add with a wink.

You pull out a cowboy hat. "This one’s from Tom on the set of Billy the Kid," you explain. "And this," you say with a smile, holding up a ring on a necklace. "This is Rafe's ring, the one he gave my character." "What a beautiful photo of the two of you," the interviewer notes, pointing to the large black-and-white photo of you and Drew at a Vogue photoshoot above your bed.

"It is! That day was actually so special for us. We both got the call saying we’d been cast in our respective roles that we’d been auditioning for," you explain, your face lighting up with nostalgia. The interviewer then asks about Drew’s upcoming movie. "Speaking of which, Drew’s film Queer is coming out very soon. Are you excited to watch it on the big screen?" "Yes, of course!" you say, your voice full of pride.

"I was so incredibly proud of him when he got the role. He was definitely excited too, especially since it’s, you know, the Luca Guadagnino." You chuckle. "I got the privilege to actually be on set for a bit, and it was amazing. Plus, I got to catch up with Daniel," you mention. "It was really nice to see him again." You smile, the pride evident in your expression as you talk about Drew's accomplishments.

The conversation is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and both you and the interviewer turn your attention toward it. Drew’s head peeks around the corner, his grin lighting up the frame as the camera zooms in on him. "I made some iced teas—yours is half and half," he says casually, stepping into the room with a tray holding two glasses. You can’t help but beam as he hands you your drink. "Aww, thanks, babe," you say gratefully, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment as you take the glass.

Drew hands the other glass to the interviewer, who looks pleasantly surprised. "Wow, thank you, Drew!" he says with a wide smile. "Of course," Drew replies warmly before glancing at you. "Let me know if you need anything else," he says, shooting you a quick wink before stepping out of the room. The camera lingers on him for a beat as he walks away, capturing his effortless charm.

You take a sip of the iced tea, the cool, refreshing taste spreading through you as you let out a content sigh. "Is this something you drink often?" the interviewer asks, clearly curious. You nod enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely. I like mine half and half, and I drink it like 24/7," you say with a chuckle, the glass still in your hand. The interviewer grins before asking a more personal question. "I can tell Drew is very thoughtful. What’s your favourite trait of his?"

You laugh softly, caught off guard by the difficult question. "You can’t make me choose—I love everything about him!" you say with a playful grin, your tone light but sincere. The interviewer chuckles along with you, clearly charmed by your response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But if you had to pick just one thing that comes to mind?"

You pause for a moment, your expression softening as you think. "Hmmm," you hum, swirling your iced tea absentmindedly. "I love the little things he does," you begin, your voice warm with affection. "Like how he always remembers my coffee order or when he leaves me little notes when I’m on set. It’s those small, thoughtful moments that really mean the most to me."

The camera captures your tender smile, and the interviewer smiles himself, visibly touched by your response. "That’s so sweet," he says, his tone genuine. "It really is," you smile, a soft, almost bashful grin spreading across your face. "He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," you say, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity.

The interviewer watches you with an amused smile, clearly endeared by the dreamy, almost schoolgirl-like look on your face as you think about Drew.

~

The Vogue 73 Questions interview quickly becomes an internet sensation, captivating fans. It was everywhere. Clips of your candid answers and sweet, unscripted moments—especially the one where Drew casually walked in with iced tea—became the ultimate proof of why you were Hollywood’s darling. Within hours of its release, the hashtag #73QuestionsWithY/n trends worldwide.

The comments section was flooded with fans losing their minds over the glimpse into your life. "Can we talk about how Drew KNOWS her iced tea order by heart? If this isn’t relationship goals, I don’t know what is." "Y/n casually being gorgeous, funny, and real in her Charleston dream home? I’m in love." "The way Drew looked at her when he walked in… I CAN’T. He’s so whipped, and I’m here for it."

Memes circulate, celebrating your witty remarks and playful demeanor, while your thoughtful insights and open vulnerability spark heartfelt discussions. The part where Drew sneaks into the interview with iced tea becomes a fan-favourite, with many dubbing it "the cutest boyfriend moment of the year."

“I love how real she is,” one fan tweeted, accompanied by screenshots of your answer about Drew’s little notes and coffee orders. Another post with a screenshot of you laughing at Drew’s confused “Oh, Vogue’s here” reaction read, “You can just tell they’re best friends. I want a love like this.”

The media couldn’t get enough, either. Everyone from gossip sites to prestigious magazines weighed in on how you’d managed to blend the glamour of your career with the warmth of your personality. The buzz reignites interest in your past projects and elevates anticipation for your upcoming ones. Your social media following soars as fans, old and new, praise your ability to remain grounded despite your success.

Meanwhile, Drew’s small but sweet cameo sparks renewed admiration for your relationship, with countless threads and videos dedicated to celebrating your bond. “Y/n and Drew are proof that true love exists,” one viral tweet declares, garnering thousands of likes and retweets. Another fan edits together a montage of your cutest moments from the interview, set to a romantic song, which quickly racks up millions of views.

Drew couldn’t stop teasing you about how viral the iced tea moment had become. “You’re lucky I didn’t walk in shirtless,” he joked one night as you scrolled through TikTok, finding yet another edit of you two. “Please,” you said, giggling, your hand affectionately stroking Nellie, “half the internet would’ve fainted.” “Half?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I think you’re underestimating me, babe.”

[thoughtfulfiction]

Hike of a Lifetime

Author’s Note: Set in the 2022 offseason after Justin’s labrum surgery in January 2023. Rewriting my first Justin fic is a full circle moment for me so I hope you like this one!

The last two hours of your life had been spent going over orders of Gatorade protein shakes, protein pack quick bites that usually contained some sort of cheese and sausage, various brands of Greek yogurt, apples, bananas, blueberries, granola bars and anything else you could think of to stock the weight room with while you were on vacation. You had been the head nutritionist for the UCLA men's basketball team for the last year, making customized, ever changing meal plans and consulting with the health care staff to enhance your athlete's performance to the best of your ability.

After the team's loss to Gonzaga in the NCAA tournament known as March Madness, you ran to Eugene, Oregon at the first opportunity you had to go see your sister Chloe. March up until this point was one busy day after another, truly living up to the name. Most days you didn't even feel like you got to sit down for more than 10 minutes at a time due to the constant travel and meetings you had to attend. So you took a week off and as soon as you closed your laptop today, you were going to enjoy being one with nature.

Chloe had moved to Eugene two years before you got your LA job, working as a team photographer for the University of Oregon's football team, allowing the two of you to see each other during conference play more often, which had done wonders for your relationship. It's one thing to be siblings but you could genuinely call her a friend now, which was both weird to say aloud, and nice.

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" Chloe steps into the living room, breaking you out of your vigorous typing. You look up and groan at the guilty look on her face. That was definitely an I have a work emergency and I’m going to be leaving you, look.

"No. You're not canceling on me. I got here two days ago and I have yet to really be outside. How am I supposed to enjoy some of the most beautiful scenery of my life if I'm stuck at the house the whole time? Does spring ball even matter anyway?"

Chloe laughs, heading into the kitchen to grab a snack. You'd recently lectured her about how although cereal is a grain, she can't consider it a food group and she needs to introduce more of a balanced variety in her diet. Unless she enjoys her daily 4pm sugar crash. She surprises you by pulling out a bowl of overnight oats from the fridge, with strawberries on top. After giving her your nod of approval, she gets back to the issue at hand. "Yes, spring ball matters. But I promise you it will not take me that long, I'll be back before you know it."

You huff out a breath, trying to come up with a solution. "What if you have one of your interns do it? Mine are really holding down the fort this week, I'm obviously working from home to help them out a little and I think you should do the same."

"Well our jobs are a little different. I can give them things to edit and post but I don't want to have to approve every single one of their photos and make sure they're featuring the right position groups and players based on a schedule that I created in my head. It'll just be easier if I'm there to walk them through it and then I can come home and we'll have a relaxing week until you have to be back in messy Hollywood."

"It's just Los Angeles, not Hollywood, genius. I still work at a university just like you do," you laugh at her exaggerated version of the place you now call home.

She rolls her eyes, stepping away from her food to grab her keys. "Same difference. It's all polluted air and earthquakes anyway."

Finally finished with your task, you stand up to snatch the keys out of her hand and lead the way to the garage. "Whatever, I'm in clean air now and would really like to be able to experience it. So I'll be dropping you off and getting to my hike."

You get out of the car and the sun immediately hits your skin, not in a way that’s intense but rejuvenating, bringing you back to life. The scent of early spring, mixed in with the sweet smell of freshly bloomed rhododendron sparks a further revival. The air really is different here. Life is more…undisturbed.

Families are getting out of their vehicles without a crushing sense of urgency that you’re used to, people are laughing and enjoying each other’s company and you’ve been to this park before so you feel somewhat comfortable navigating the terrain on your own, opting to quiet the sounds of the world by listening to a podcast during your leisurely stroll. Without even making it a mile on the trail, you spot a friendly black dog making his way over to you, nudging your leg with his wet nose, essentially demanding that you pet him. You usually probably wouldn’t have but the serene energy of the space you’re in brings it out of you.

“Well hello there, buddy. Who do you belong to?” You bent down to search for a name on his collar. “Dylan, that’s a cute name. Should we go find who you came here with before someone has a heart attack?” You laughed softly as the dog happily panted away and let you grab onto the leash. Before you could even take a step, you heard a booming voice calling out the dog’s name.

The distressed figure comes into view and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much for grabbing him. I’m so sorry if he’s bothering you, I bent down to tie my shoe and this guy decided to make a break for it.”

“He’s taking advantage of the fact that you only have one good arm.” You point out, remembering the shoulder surgery announcement you saw in the LA Times. The man was probably getting used to having both arms again. “No worries, he’s sweet. And super friendly.” You handed him the leash and he thanked you again.

“I seriously owe you, my mom would’ve killed me if I lost our dog when I just got home.” He chuckles nervously. God his laugh was cute. “I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Justin.”

“I know.” You smile. “It’s nice to meet you though, I’m y/n. Hope you enjoy the rest of your hike.” You grabbed your AirPods and went to place them back in your ears to finish getting lost in your own little world once again before he stops you.

“Wait—maybe we could finish out the hike…together? You know, just so Dylan doesn’t take advantage of me again.” Maybe he was just being cautious because there was no way he was flirting with you…right?

Those green eyes were going to get you in trouble and you knew it. But you were on a beautiful scenic getaway and hiking with Justin Herbert wasn’t going to come around every single day.

“Let’s do it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt your shoulder even more chasing after Dylan. Bolt nation might collectively collapse if anything happens to you so I’m calling this a public service.”

He unsuccessfully tries to stifle a laugh. “What a Good Samaritan you are.”

Justin was funny. And sweet. And the most fun company you’ve had in a while. You talked about your job, the entire NCAA tournament and what you both thought about being in LA. Even though you both lived very different lives, it was filled with sports and schedules and meetings and practices and there were a lot of things to bond over. Before you knew it you’d been out there for three hours and Rachel texted you to let you know she was done and ready to resume your sisterly activities. He took a look at your deflated expression.

“Do you need to head out?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.” You whispered. “This was fun though.”

He readjusts the hat on his head. “Yeah this was great. Um, I meant what I said earlier though. I owe you.” He gestures towards the phone in your hands and you hand it to him watching him type in his number, texting himself immediately so he has yours.

“Maybe we could grab dinner or something before you head back to LA?” He states pensively, holding his breath a bit until you answer.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The two of you head back to the parking lot and you give Dylan one more pat on the head. You look up to meet Justin’s gaze, shy smiles painting both of your faces. He walked you all the way to your car and waved goodbye as you drove away to meet Rachel.

While you waited all you could do was stare at your phone, Justin had given you his number and you had his. He’d put his actual contact information in your phone AND had asked you to go to dinner. None of this felt like real life, what kind of person stumbles upon an NFL quarterback on a normal hike?

“Why are you smiling like that? It scares me.” Chloe interrupts your thoughts. You hadn’t even realized she opened the door and got in the car. “Did that hike change your life or something?” She finished with a dry laugh.

“I’m not sure, but I think it may have…”

Rachel nods her head slowly, desperately hoping to understand what’s going on. “Yeah okay whatever. Let’s get some lunch because I am absolutely starving.”

You put the car in drive, your phone notifying you of a text from its spot on the dashboard car mount. Rachel grabs it and asks, “who the hell is Justin and why is he asking if you’re free tomorrow night?”

“Just some guy I met while hiking, no big deal,” you tried and failed to be nonchalant. She knew you way better than that.

“If it’s really no big deal then tell that to the gigantic smile on your face. You’re going on that date. I’m texting him back to let him know you’ll be free.”

All that Chloe knows is his name. The rest of it you decide to keep to yourself not only to respect his privacy but you want to keep this special thing for you and only you. In case this doesn’t go anywhere, you’ll always have the memory of today and whatever happens on Friday to look back on fondly. And by telling your sister you’re putting a little bit more pressure on it, like this has to become something. You don’t really know this guy yet, only the small tidbits that he shared on the walk and that his family dog’s name is Dylan, who would run away with any stranger if enough treats were offered.

There are so many things going through your mind as you change your outfit for the fourth time tonight. What if he thinks you’re boring? Or he’s boring? What happens if the two of you run out of things to say and you’re just sitting in the restaurant in awkward silence until someone decides to call it a night? Even worse, what if this is the best date you ever go on, you fall for him and then never hear from him again because he’s an NFL quarterback and you sometimes spend three hours a day planning out breakfast options for 18-22 year old basketball players.

You glanced in the mirror, slinging a tiny black purse over your shoulder with a subtle smirk on the way out the door at your final clothing choice. Chloe mentioned that the car outside being a super nice Porsche and you made something up about thinking that he worked in finance or a job closely related to that so she wouldn't keep digging for more information. All she followed up with was "have fun and be safe."

Ambrosia's staff walked you and Justin into the restaurant by the back entrance into a private room, which was the most abnormal part of the night. The rest of the evening was spent consuming seafood stuffed mushrooms, pasta and sharing a classic tiramisu, the best one you'd ever had in your life.

The nerves that once seeped through every pore were quickly replaced with what a vacation was supposed to feel like. Conversation flowed easily, there was no pressure to be perfect or funny or overly sexy. Justin was so…normal. He was pretty, not in a way that was intimidating because you really weren’t sure he realized how attractive he actually is. But pretty in a sense that everything about him made him more attractive. His ability to actively listen to the words you say and bring them back up when it’s relevant. The way his dimples are more pronounced when he laughs. The way he stops mid conversation to say thank you to the service staff every time they refill his water. There wasn’t a bone in his body that wasn’t filled with humility and kindness. Everything he did was gentle. And on top of all of that he paid without hesitation.This date truly had been a breath of fresh air.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun.”

His lips curl into a smile, “this was probably the best first date I’ve had.” He doesn’t know why he’s just admitted that to you, but he’s glad it’s out there now.

“Me too,” you stand up out of your chair after he does, a collection of butterflies appearing in your stomach when he places a hand on the small of your back, before encasing his hand with yours to lead you out of the restaurant.

“When are you heading back to LA?” He asks. You only know that because you’re reading his lips and not listening to a word he’s saying. You really want to kiss him.

You hesitate to lean in, bringing your focus back to his eyes, meeting his soft gaze. “I’ll be here for a couple more days, then it’s back to work. What about you?”

“Tomorrow…” he begins, slowly losing his train of thought when a little bit of the light goes out in your eyes. Should he kiss you before he leaves in the morning or wait until you’re both back in California with busy schedules and no clue if and when you’ll see each other again? “…I don’t want to leave now due to some unforeseen circumstances,” he laughs, “unfortunately I’ve got some stuff to take care of. But I’ll call you and we can maybe do this again?”

“Yeah. Definitely. I’ll see you around.” He gave you a warm hug on the way out and you watched him walk away to his car, smiling to yourself at the thought of a second date. You couldn’t wait for that phone call.

Two weeks later...he still hasn’t called. You would’ve been surprised had you not prepared yourself for this very scenario. Even with all of this so-called “preparation,” the radio silence from him still stung. Who would’ve thought this would happen? The NFL quarterback is busy with his offseason recovery while the girl he went on one singular date with continues to replay minute by minute interactions they had. No one could’ve seen this coming. The thought of that date feels like so long ago and the fact that you can remember it in vivid detail is a feels a little humiliating. You can’t even look at an Apple Watch without your stomach ending up in knots.

You've closed your office door today, taking a few hours to yourself in between meetings. Earlier in the day you and the rest of the staff had to sit through a Tyr presentation, listening to the representatives of the brand try to sell you their endurance sports drink and leaving you with some samples. Then you had CLIF come in with some new energy chew flavor samples for the guys to try. All of the boxes of products now sat in your office and you really hoped to spend the rest of the day going through the food budget, managing receipts and preparing for your first year presentations for when the new freshman arrived sometime in June. You were glancing back and forth between Whole Foods receipts and Amazon orders when your phone rang. Too busy and in the middle of crunching numbers, you ignored the call. Then it started ringing again. You stop what you're doing, assuming that if someone is calling you twice in a row, it must be urgent. The contact name flashing on the screen has you frozen in time.

It was Justin.

Even though you've been alone in your office for a while, you look around to make sure you're not making this up and this is actually happening. He's calling you. Finally.

"Hello? Who is this?" You can hear him shuffling around, probably walking around in a circle aimlessly just like you are. Despite your best efforts to seem unfazed.

"I deserve that," he cringes. "I'm so sorry for not calling you sooner."

"What—what made you call me now?"

He can tell your voice is softer than when you first answered, and he missed hearing it. "Um...life got a little ahead of me and that's not an excuse. I just—didn't want you to think that I wasn't ever going to call," he pauses, "can I make you dinner? Tonight? If you're free. And we can talk in person."

You look at the door with a sigh, contemplating your entire existence. And then you think...fuck it. "Yeah sure, I'm free tonight. Text me your address and I'll be there around 7?"

"Seven works, I'll see you tonight."

His house is perfectly spotless. There is just no way that a single adult man in his 20s is naturally this organized and clean. Even the cat, who he introduces to you as Nova, a gorgeous Bengal walks around like she owns the place, greeting you briefly (sizing you up) before trotting away without a second glance. Justin walks you into the kitchen where he's in the middle of plating the meal. He just looked good doing normal things, filling glasses of water, opening and closing the fridge, taking off his apron. You really needed to get a grip. "It smells great in here chef, what's on the menu?"

He laughs a little, presenting his dish like he's the star of a Food Network show. "Tonight I've made for you a Traeger filet mignon seasoned with the Traeger seasoning and chimichurri sauce with a side of roasted garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus."

You happily clap for his A+ presentation and he gives you a bow. "Justin, this looks amazing! I can't wait to dig in."

The man leads you to the table, setting the plate down in front of you before grabbing a seat right next to you. "So...let me explain."

Taking a bite of your food, you shake your head. "You really don't have to explain yourself, we went on one date. There's nothing to explain I mean—”

"Yeah there is. I want you to know that I wanted to call sooner, I really did. But I came back and had to meet with doctors to make sure my recovery was on track and then the draft happened and then I had to talk about the future of my contract and I didn't want the craziness of my life to overshadow what we have going on. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you're being put on the backburner."

Unbeknownst to you, he had also been replaying that date...more often that he'd like to admit. Anytime he had a minute to himself he thought about calling, seeing what you're doing. And then there was a meeting, or a draft party or someone needing him to be somewhere. But you were always on his mind and he was glad to now have life slow down a little bit to show you he really did care.

"I get it. Definitely thought you forgot about me there for a second. A few seconds," you correct yourself. "But I knew you were busy and we're here now so you're forgiven. Especially because this steak is incredible."

"Well thank you," he smiles sheepishly.

He begged you not to help him clean up but you insisted. After everything was put away he gave you a tour of the place and then you sat on the couch looking for a movie to watch until the stack of puzzles on the shelf caught your eye.

"You haven't unwrapped this one. Is it new?" You note the plastic wrap lining the box on the shelf meeting you at eye level. The flowers look familiar but you can't exactly remember where you've seen them before.

“There's a lot of flowers at the park we met. Any rhododendron I see now," he nods at the box in your hand, "makes me think of you. So I bought this. Figured we could do it together.” The way he's looking at you when you turn around makes you feel warm and tingly inside.

Something about being with him is addicting. You feel physically drawn to him, this pull, an invisible hold that he has on your heart that soon makes you want to run for the hills. But you know that the second you’re away from him it’ll feel like an important new part of your life has been ripped away. It almost felt like the universe had sent Justin to you as an apology for all men. Even doing something as simple as a puzzle feels like the most romantic thing in the world. All of the pieces are laid out on the table and you tackle the corners first, working from the outside in. You're sitting so close to each other that your arms are touching, reaching and grabbing at the puzzle pieces in sync like a well oiled machine. He pulls you into his lap toward the end when there's a few pieces left, giving you a high five when all 300 pieces are in their rightful place. Your hand is in his once again, like it belongs there, holding you close and steady.

He lets you go momentarily to cup your face, a look of adoration adorning his that makes your chest clench. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you for the last 22 days," Justin whispers, his face so close to yours you can feel his breath on your lips.

"Then why are you still waiting?" You whisper back, barely able to finish your sentence because he's nipping at your bottom lip, teasing you slightly as he runs his thumb across your jaw. You're a puddle in his hands, his lips on yours kissing you with his heart pounding against his chest like he's never kissed anyone before. The kiss is so simple yet the most intense experience either of you have been a part of and you want more. Both of you are fighting for dominance, a somewhat rough dance of tongues and a little bit of teeth increasing in intensity the longer the kiss lasts. You moan into his mouth, feeling him begin to stand at attention underneath you, deepening the kiss by pulling him in even closer by his hair. The other hand is wrapped around his thigh, squeezing his leg and producing goosebumps across his entire body. He had to take a few moments to recover, slightly out of breath at the kiss that he was convinced had just changed his life. "Was that worth the 22 day wait?" You ask with a laugh, holding his head in your hands.

He nods, still incapable of speech, blowing out a breath of relief when the tightness in his pants continues to go down. You lazily make out throughout the entirety of whatever movie he puts on, more than making up for lost time.

You have to be at the facility early for morning workouts so Justin walks you out to your car, pulling you in for one more kiss. "Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe?"

"I will."

Justin lays in bed that night looking at your goodnight text, already planning the third date in his head because he needs to somehow make it better than tonight was. He doesn't have any ideas yet, he just knows he can't get enough of you.

One year later...

You were back in Eugene at your favorite park, ready to get back to your favorite scenery.

"Are you excited?" You ask Dylan, who barks excitedly as you hold onto his leash. That must mean yes.

Justin laughs beside you, grabbing onto your hand. "You ready?" He gives you a kiss on the forehead before the three of you begin your hike.

[nonotnolan]

Group Project

"I don't care if most people skip this step," Aiden said, taking a pre-swap photo with Nathan. "I still don't completely trust Swapper technology, just... I don't have many other options. Professor Carmichael has been riding our asses all semester, and this damn group project is worth 50% of my grade. I, uhh... I appreciate you doing this for me."

"You're the one paying me," Nathan said, grinning into the mirror with two thumbs up. "As long as you follow the basic rules, I don't really care what sort of extra safeguards you want to throw in. And don't worry, I think it's cute. Commencing swap... now."

Aiden barely had time to panic before he found himself staring up into his former face. The biggest shock was feeling Nathan's coiffed hair brushing against his forehead. The nerd came well recommended by Frat Row-- at this point, he probably spent more time outside of his body than inside of it. Certainly it hadn't been Nathan spending time at the gym to earn these arms. He had graduated college last year, but instead of getting a full time job, he hired out his services to anyone who needed to pass tests or make presentations. At $500 per swap, the legality was the only barrier to making it into a career. "So, you remember the rules, right?" said Aiden's body.

Hearing his voice like that was incredibly odd. "Yeah, we've got to stay swapped for 48 hours or else the Campus safety test will know we used our Swappers. You aren't liable if you get caught, I already paid you up front, no refunds. We had to jailbreak our Swappers to override the 12 hour standard limit, so I'll get arrested if I try to contact customer service. Anything else I'm missing?"

"No hard drugs, but any amount of sex and alcohol is fair game," Nathan said, as he reached into Aiden's waistband to fondle his new package. "Nice dick, my guy," he said, giving him another thumbs up. "That's gotta be, what... at least seven inches?"

Aiden blushed, deeply embarrassed to see his body acting so corny. "A bit under seven and a half, yeah," he said. "Aa-anyway, I'll be at the house if you need me."

"Have fun," Nathan said, giving him an exaggerated wink and slapping him on the shoulders. "I've swapped with several of your brothers. I know you're gonna have a good time."

Preston was outside, taking advantage of one of the last warm afternoons before fall turned into winter. "Damn, bro, you hired Nathan? Looks like someone was worried about failing their classes. So, who are you?"

"It's Aiden," I said, feeling very self conscious about my newer, frailer body as I found myself staring at Preston's hairy chest.

He just laughed. "Wait, Aiden? I didn't even know you had a Swapper! Damn, dude, you must be desperate to pass."

"I... yeah," I said, avoiding eye contact. Was Nathan a gay man? That was fine if he was, just... did that sort of thing stick to the body? He'd never really noticed the cleft of Preston's chin before, but he was-- Nathan's body was-- incredibly horny.

"A word of advice, Newbie," he said, sitting down his book. "Most of the Swapper nerds, or at least the ones worth hiring? They're gay men. Don't try to fight it. Just enjoy the ride. You'll be back to your no-homo self in 48 hours." He flexed his chest, letting his pecs bounce. "Or maybe you'll be a bit more worldly," he said, laughing as Aiden tried not to sneak a glance. "Getting a compliment from a gay dude feels real good."

Aiden practically sprinted toward the main doors, eager to escape the awkward situation. "Yeah I'll keep that in mind thanks bye," he muttered, cursing Nathan's gym shorts and their inability to hide an erection.

"Well, damn bro, look who it is! Someone hired Nathan!"

Sitting over in the lobby were two other guys who were using their Swappers for the weekend. The guy in black was probably Carter-- the dude had a lot of Puma gear, and it was possible he'd changed shirts at some point. Besides, it was hard to imagine anyone else scowling that hard. The blonde guy, however... that could be anyone.

"Uhh, hey... guys..." Aiden said, quickly learning that Nathan had a foot fetish. "You, uhhh... you also have a group project tomorrow or something?"

The blonde guy just laughed, closing his laptop as he stood up. "Oh, I've got a group project in mind, alright. I was just telling Carter here, even though both of us look like twinks, neither one of us are really bottoms. But with Nathan's body here, well... I think that solves our problem. Don't you?"

He nodded, following wordlessly after the two men as they entered the nearby library room for more privacy. Just enjoy the ride, Preston had said. Aiden suspected he was going to be doing a lot of riding tonight.

[bloodismymedium]

I love The Painter so fucking much because it was the first analog horror series that genuinely frightened me, not spooked or even scared, but actually chilled me to my bones and filled me with this profound feeling of dread that I’ve never felt before in regards to analog horror or creepypasta. Every episode escalates the kinds of feelings that Spook intended with this series in me such as terror, revulsion and shock but it also gave me this unique, almost existential dread that I don’t think many other people who’ve watched it felt and the reason why is that this was the first analog horror that felt just so real to me.

I adore The Painter for how grounded and fresh it feels. It was the first analog horror series (that I know of at least) that didn’t revolve around anything particularly supernatural or out there like demons or possessed animatronics, it’s about an incredibly violent and depraved serial killer who does terrible things to innocent people, which you know, is a thing that actually exists and happens all the time in real life and the series is definitely not afraid to make you confront these real horrors.

I love supernatural elements and monsters in horror but I love them because I think their freaking cool rather than scary but people, human beings, that’s what your really supposed to be afraid of, because they can actually hurt you and UrbanSpook’s The Painter reminded me of that. I distinctly remember becoming super paranoid after watching the first couple episodes for the first time, thinking there was someone walking around outside my house tapping at my window when it was just the wind, and I was NEVER that jumpy before.

Mona is a very real kind of evil and most people who use the series’ shocking content as a point of criticism come off as ignorant to me because they are clearly missing the entire point of the series, it’s basically a documentary about a pair of violent serial killers who do terrible things, things that again, while exaggerated since that’s par for the course in the horror genre, are very possible and aren’t too far off from what real life serial killers have done which is why it works SO WELL for me.

I understand why people would find stuff like Fucktoy Cory and Jigsaw Baby to be incredibly tasteless, because yes it is but that’s the entire point, this series clearly wears it extreme horror and exploitation horror inspirations on it’s sleeves and I don’t think it’s fair to measure it’s value as a horror series because it has content that makes you feel uncomfortable.

Spook’s art is obviously another huge component as to why this series is so, so, SO good and I contest that it’s not just pointless gore and shock. We are never even directly shown what the end result of any of Mona and Bill’s murders even look like, instead, we are given abstract depictions of the murders through their paintings that gives us an unnerving look into the minds of these two twisted fucks and how they view their actions and although we are given vivid descriptions of how these murders play out, we still don’t actually see them and our imaginations run wild as a result and the paintings amplify the dark implications of what happened to Mona and Bill’s victims, it also helps that these paintings are fucking HAUNTING.

I still can’t bare to look at Breeding Mount May and the picture of Mia Collins from Lighthouse for more than a few moments before getting goosebumps. The “photographs” in MEAT are equally horrific as so the implications as to why the victims were photographed rather than painted like usual, the suffering these people experienced at the hands of our two killers is so goddamn palatable despite them being clearly charcoal paintings rather than actual photos.

Despite what critics say about The Painter being “the same thing over and over again”, each addition to the series does in fact bring something new to the table in how it presents the cataloguing of Mona’s murders, there’s voice acting, music, hand drawn animation and even different mediums aside from painting are used to depict the killer’s actions such as photography and we’re even getting live action footage in the upcoming episode as well! This series has a lot of variety in its presentation which helps shake things up and prevents each addition from feeling too same and repetitive.

Also, maybe it’s just me but I love the “these are the most recently discovered murders” format in general since I’m always morbidly curious as to what wacky shenanigans our two favorite psychopaths are up to next and I’m rarely disappointed.

I also find the criticism of this series supposedly having no plot to be funny because again, this series is clearly presented as the documentation of the actions of serial killers terrorizing their community, what more do you fucking need? Are you going to critique Jeffery Dahmer for not having believable enough motivations for all of his murders while you’re at it? XD

I’m honestly not even close to done talking about why I love this series and why I feel most of the hate and discourse it gets is completely undeserved/invalid but I think I’ve said what mostly needed to be said. I really needed to get this shit off my chest, it can be hard seeing so much negativity towards something that you love to the point where I feel I’m the only one who actually sees the value it has but hey, that’s the price one pays for falling in love with true art.

Make no mistake, The Painter is super cheesy and cornball like the exploitative shock and gore horror films that inspired it but it had a genuine impact on me that I didn’t think analog horror could have and I fucking adore it for it and I genuinely believe it has more substance to it than most people think.

Don’t let others stop you from enjoying what brings you joy in this life kids, that’s the lesson here!

[yoon-kooks]

the airdrop incident | myg

🗿pairing: yoongi x reader

🗿genre: fluff, neighbor!au, f2l, childhood friends, best friend's brother

🗿summary: You accidentally AirDrop a racy photo of yourself in strappy lingerie to your hot and arrogant neighbor Min Yoongi.

🗿word count: 1k

a/n: yes this is for yoongi's bday and yes im 471298 years late🥹

An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.

But then he has the audacity to answer the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.

“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s also seen you practically naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?

“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all.

“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”

“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.

“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—basically the thinking emoji with the hand on his chin. “What were you wearing?”

“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. Like your favorite villain Swiper the Fox, you snatch the phone out of his hand. (He actually just hands it to you, but you like the Dora reference.) “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss as you search for the pic in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.

“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”

“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pics to?

“My sister?”

“Fine. Yes, her.”

“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”

“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She requested the pic so she could show support for her lingerie model best friend.”

“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is still ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking about other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—” 

You cut him off with a growl.

“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.

“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself.

“Well that’s no fun.”

“Elaborate.”

“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”

“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”

“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”

You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué pic of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your entire life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do. 

That’s what Min Yoongis do.

“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”

You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.

“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.

“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”

“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.”

You hear his laugh before closing the door.

A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately.

It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing. You shouldn't feel this tempted.

He accompanies the pic with one simple text:

Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”

[bugboy-behaviour]

!!URGENT!!

Please Help Evacuate Ezzideen Shehab and his Family from Gaza!!

Ezzideen Shehab and his family (Ezzideen, his 12-year-old brother Mazan, his sister Abdeer, his brother Hassan, and his mother and father) are currently trapped in Rafah & are suffering from dire starvation. They have already lost 72 family members. Please, anyone who sees this, read this post all the way through, reblog it, and please donate if you can.

Let @blackpearlblast know on this post when you donate to Ezzideen's GoFundMe so that they and Boshra (the organizer of the campaign) can match the donations!!

There's other information on how to help at the bottom of this post.

Who are Ezzideen Shehab and his family?

Ezzideen Shehab is a brilliant new doctor, who had graduated only a week before the genocide in Gaza began. Throughout all of years of schooling, he never once visited his family back in Gaza, for fear of being trapped inside. Still, he had dreamed of seeing them again. When he finally graduated, the need for his family was immense. But when he finally took a trip back home to celebrate this incredible achievement with his loved ones, something he had dreamed of for so long, Israel trapped them inside Gaza, along with hundreds of thousands of others, murdered many of their family members, and destroyed their home.

His sister, Abeer, was doing incredible work as a translator before the genocide in Gaza. Tragically, she was unable to continue this pursuit, and lost her job because of the violent, constant, bombardments happening around her and her family.

Their brother, Hassan, is a responsible and kind man. He was working as an accountant, and had just secured an international work contract that would have provided Hassan and his family with an array of new horizons and opportunities. He and his family were this close to obtaining something new and promising, but because of influences outside of their control, this has been stripped from them.

Ezzideen's parents are amazing people who raised 4 wonderful children. Ezzideen's father had recently retired from his job as a dedicated employee at the Ministry of Information. But, instead of being rewarded for his hard work with a peaceful retirement, he has been met with the murders of his loved ones and a life of constant fear and danger.

Finally, there's Mazen, Ezzideen's 12-year-old younger brother. Mazen is an incredibly bright 7th grade boy, who, instead of going to school and experiencing typical 7th grade antics and embarrassments (which we all know this website loves to joke and reminisce about), is living under constant bombardment and starvation. He is faced with death and despair on a daily basis, as all other children in Gaza are. I have personally seen photos of children his age blown to bits. I can only imagine what he's seen. What he's felt. His right to be a child has been stripped from him under the Israeli command. Under no circumstances should a child be not allowed to grow up; growing up should not be a privilege. Mazen deserves to live a long and normal life, one where a daily fear of death upon him and his family members feels like an alien concept.

Mazen deserves to grow old, and he deserves to grow happy.

No one, let me repeat; No one, deserves to go through what Ezzideen and his family are going through right now. Certainly no child ever should. The genocide happening in Gaza right now is the most horrific thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm not exaggerating. This is the most horrific thing I have ever seen. And I'm just an American bystander. I can get up from my screen and leave the house and be safe. I cannot Fucking imagine what it must be like for the people trapped in Gaza. They can't do that. They can't get up and walk away from what's happening. This is their reality, every second of every day.

But it's not too late. You, the person reading this, have power in this situation. You have a voice. If we can get them the help they need, and soon, they can evacuate. Ezzideen can pursue a further education in medicine. Abeer and Hassan can continue their incredible work to support their family and themselves. Mazen can grow up.

Support for this family has already made a difference. By sharing and donating to their cause, Ezzideen's mother has already been able to register for evacuation. Your actions make a difference. Your shares make a difference. Your donations, no matter how small, make a difference. I promise.

How To Help

donate to Ezzideen's GoFundMe, which I linked at the top of this post

Donate in exchange for commissions from @void-botanist (info here)

Donate 50$ or more in exchange for a t-shirt, bag, or notebook from @boshradaoud (info here)

Reply on this post when you donate to Ezzideen's GoFundMe so that they and Boshra (the organizer of the campaign) can match the donations

Reblog this post (& tag it with a recognizable tag so people can search for it on your blog)

Repost & share the information contained in this post to other social media websites (INCLUDE A LINK TO THE GOFUNDME)

Make your own posts about the subject!! The more people talking about this, the better!!

^^relating to that, DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE!!! no matter who you are, how small your blog is, or what theme you post with, YOU SHOULD BE SPEAKING OUT ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENING IN GAZA, even if that just means reblogging every pro-palestine post you see!! THERE IS A GENOCIDE GOING ON!! and as a human being, it is YOUR responsibility to talk about it. That's just what you do.

If you can, attend protests and events in your community to help support Palestine. Remember to prepare with the proper equipment if you're going to be protesting (especially if you live in America) so that police will have a harder time recognizing you

Big thank you to Boshra Daoud for organizing Ezzideen's GoFundMe, for reaching out to me about this, and for providing all of the images used in this post.

[pankowcrumbs]

That Zombie just Blinked! X Rudy Pankow (requested)

The crisp October evening air carried a chill that matched the buzzing excitement among the Outer Banks cast as we stood outside the towering, gothic structure of Ravenswood Haunted Manor. The mansion’s dark silhouette loomed ominously under the silver glow of the moon, its turrets and gnarled gargoyles casting eerie shadows across the grounds. Fog machines hissed, and distant howls played from hidden speakers, creating an ambiance fit for a horror movie.

“I’m telling you, nothing in there is going to scare me,” Rudy declared, his chest puffed out in mock bravado. He spun in a circle, addressing the group with exaggerated confidence. “I’ve seen every horror movie ever made. Haunted houses are, like, my thing.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, crossing my arms and raising a brow, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. I stood next to him, bundled in a cozy jacket, my eyes sparkling with amusement. “Because last week you wouldn’t even watch The Conjuring without turning on the lights.”

The group erupted into laughter as Rudy dramatically clutched his chest, feigning hurt. "Y/N?” he gasped. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“I’m just saying,” I teased. “Talk a big game all you want, but we’ll see who’s running for the exit first.”

Chase, leaning casually against a stone pillar, grinned. “I’ve got twenty bucks on Rudy screaming before we’re even halfway through.”

“Make it fifty,” Madison chimed in, shaking hands with Chase.

“You guys have no faith in me,” Rudy groaned, throwing his hands up. “Fine. Watch and learn, cowards.”

Jonathan nudged Drew. “This is gonna be good.”

Carlacia snapped a quick photo of the group standing in front of the mansion, tagging everyone on Instagram with the caption, “Ready to face our fears… or just laugh at Rudy.” The cast’s camaraderie was evident in their playful jabs and shared excitement, making the haunted experience even more thrilling.

The guide, dressed in a tattered cloak and ghostly makeup, motioned for the group to enter the mansion. “Welcome to Ravenswood,” he said, his voice a haunting growl. “Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.”

Rudy took a step forward, leading the way with exaggerated confidence. “Let’s do this,” he said, though I caught the faintest hint of nerves in his eyes. I stifled a laugh, filing in behind him as the heavy wooden doors creaked shut with an ominous finality.

The first room was dimly lit, with flickering candles casting shadows on the cracked walls. A chilling piano melody played in the background, and cobwebs draped over the antique furniture. The air smelled of damp wood and fake blood.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad,” Rudy said, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. He pointed at a mannequin dressed as a ghost. “See? Totally fake.”

The mannequin suddenly lunged forward with a shriek, causing Rudy to yelp and jump back, bumping into me.

“Oh my god, it moved!” he shouted, clutching my arm.

I burst out laughing. “Rudy, it’s literally on wheels.”

“Still counts,” he muttered, cheeks flushing as the group dissolved into laughter.

As we moved through the mansion, the scares grew more elaborate. Mechanical bats swooped down from the ceiling, and actors in grotesque costumes leaped out from hidden corners. The group’s reactions ranged from startled jumps to outright screams, but Rudy’s exaggerated responses quickly became the highlight of the night.

In one hallway, lit only by a single swinging light bulb, a zombie animatronic suddenly turned its head and blinked. Rudy froze, his grip on my hand tightening like a vice.

“THAT ZOMBIE JUST BLINKED!” he yelled, his voice cracking.

“It’s supposed to blink,” I said, biting back laughter. “It’s an animatronic, Rudy.”

“I don’t care what it is! It’s alive!” he insisted, practically hiding behind me as the group cackled.

“Rudy, you’re killing me,” Chase said between fits of laughter, clutching his stomach. “Big, brave haunted house guy, huh?”

“Shut up, Stokes,” Rudy shot back, though he didn’t let go of my hand.

As the group progressed, I found myself shielding Rudy more and more. Whether it was a skeletal hand reaching out from the wall or a creepy clown popping out of a closet, Rudy’s reaction was always the same: a startled yell followed by him using me as a human shield.

“You’re really milking this, aren’t you?” I teased as we entered a room filled with fog and eerie green lighting.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rudy said, though the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

When we reached the grand finale—a winding maze filled with strobe lights and actors dressed as ghouls—Rudy clung to my arm like his life depended on it.

“If I don’t make it out of here, tell my mum I love her,” he whispered dramatically.

“You’re ridiculous,” I replied, though I couldn’t help but smile. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, guiding him through the maze. “Come on, scaredy-cat. I’ll protect you from the big, bad skeletons.”

Rudy looked down at me, his eyes softening despite the chaos around us. “Thanks, Y/N. You’re my hero.”

By the time we exited the mansion, Rudy’s bravado had been completely replaced by sheepish laughter. The group was in stitches, recounting his most dramatic moments.

“That zombie just blinked!” Chase mimicked, doubling over with laughter.

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Rudy said, holding up his hands. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Madelyn said, patting him on the back.

I stayed close to Rudy as the group headed to the parking lot. “You know, for someone who was terrified the whole time, you did pretty well,” I said with a grin.

“Yeah?” Rudy asked, his cheeks tinged pink. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “And hey, if you ever need a bodyguard for your next haunted adventure, you know where to find me.”

Rudy chuckled, slipping his arm around my shoulders. “Deal. But next time, I’m picking the activity. Maybe something less terrifying. Like skydiving.”

I laughed, leaning into him as we walked. “Sounds perfect.”

[coralinehecc]

Corals Monthly Update #3

HOHOHO!! FIRST BLOG POST OF 2023 AND I’M NEARLY 2 WEEKS LATE!!! Super sorry about the long wait! I’ve had tests recently and only got off of school like a few days ago haha! So! Welcome back to my monthly update on what I get up to in my life! Now, before we get into January, I, for the final time, have to tap back into the previous month. Curse past me for thinking the 21st was a good day to start doing these!!! ANYHOW! The rest of December and early January were a BLAST! But lemmie talk about what happened after I made the last update. CHRISTMAS!! I had a great time with my family and I got a bunch of fluffy things cuz that’s apparently the easiest thing to get me now. We also had dinner on Christmas day with my Grandparents like every year. Over-all that day was very fun! I even got drunk playing Minecraft which was funny for everyone in VC. The next few days weren’t anything exciting, however my brother Finn had a bunch of his friends over for his birthday which was chaotic. But the excitement picks back up on the 28th! BECAUSE SKYE AND VI CAME OVER FOR NEW YEARS!! We’ve been planning this since like, June, so it was awesome seeing them again! We did all kinds of stuff from shopping to playing some awesome games! (I am now chronically addicted to Ultra Kill thanks guys)

We even did some baking! Here is our glorious creation I dubbed, “The Jimothy”. 

Overall the rest of December was awesome! I’m glad I got to celebrate New Years with my besties! Overall, I’ll give it a 10/10! Best way to end 2022 >:D Here’s a few more misc photos hehehhehe

NOW! FOR JANUARY!! January started off still vibing with the guys. However they would then go home on the 4th which sucks. But before that, both Skye and I spent a lot of money on consoles that are almost as old as ourselves. They bought a fucking PS Vita and I got a motherfucking Wii. We both had fun with em and I even helped Skye homebrew their Vita since I wanted to put PebbleCD on it (I failed but shut uuup) But yea, sadly the guys had to go and it sucked! But I still had a great time. There’s a bit of a gap here right up until the 12th, where finally, the big event happened. CAREY IN THE HOUSE WENT LIVE!! I had finished it a few days prior but figured I’d build up hype by posting it on that Friday. AND IT SURE WORKED! The video blew up faster than any of my videos before it! I am so happy the response has been overwhelmingly positive. I also love how the only main complaint that was common amongst people was that Careys exaggerated accent was annoying which, yea can’t argue against. For anyone wishing for more CITH content, I did a behind the scenes mega thread over on my twitter if you wanna have a deeper look into the production! I’ll even link it here:  https://twitter.com/Carey_Black_/status/1619731723352444928 Now, to move onto why it took me forever to make an update. My mock exams.. BUT BEFORE THAT!! THERE’S ALSO THE FACT THAT MR WULF AND I WERE ABLE TO ARCHIVE THE ORIGINAL EDDSWORLD BANG BOOM SPLAT PROJECT FILE!!

This all started because Wulf wanted to edit the credits for his arcade BBS build since I was helping him out and since I said SWF modding is hard he just casually asked Psycosis and after seeing his WIP cabinet, gave Wulf the FLA! So a current “BBS arcade version” is in the works by yours truly thanks to both the generosity of Psycosis and the fact that Mr Wulf is a fucking mad man who could stop global warming in a month if he wanted to LOL! Here’s Wulfs finished Cabinet btw!:  https://twitter.com/MrWulfOfficial/status/1622295302685315073 But yea, for real. My mock exams were a pain! For those outside of Ireland or have a different name for em, Mock exams are, well, exams that act like a practice run for your finals. They’re always harder than the actual finals and are usually graded stricter too! Why? Who knows! The Irish education system is a joke. I feel like I did somewhat ok in them anyway? Some were definitely worse than others but overall it was more of an inconvenience. I did get this really cool art piece out of it however.

Exams would later spill over into February and like I said at the start, I finished and got off school a few days ago. Overall, this month was about a 7/10. It was pretty good, especially in the Eddsworld department, but mocks and other personal tid bits I didn’t mention here dragged it down for me. Since February seems to be mostly me being off school, I hope this month will be better haha! Only time will tell! Thank you for reading! And I hope to see you next month!! (Hopefully on time too haha!) 

[aajjks]

seol☀️: https://pin.it/73QSPDHK1

moon🌙: https://pin.it/6F1ZyUSfY

🎄mommy issues!JK

“say aah~ om nom nom~ see? isn’t it good?”

“mooom..you’re too loud. i can’t hear the movie”

“then go to your room, seol. did you forget you have a TV in there?”

“no, but i want to stay and watch it with you”

“then, mommy’s gonna be a little loud”

seol pouts as he keeps his eyes trained on the television in front of him. your attention is back on your now 1-year-old daughter, moon who is whining for another spoonful of dakjuk. “sorry sorry” you apologize as you feed her more of the delicious porridge. you hear your phone go off causing you to look at it:

from hubby💍💕

i found that iron man toy seol wanted!

look at how cute this is for moonie

[photo attached]

to hubby💍💕:

you better not buy that for moon & are you still buying seol a phone?

he wrote it on his christmas list three times 😅

~🫧

It’s the best time of the year.

Jungkook enters the house with a sense of relief. The bags of gifts in his hands feel heavy,

but the excitement of getting back to his family makes every step lighter. He slips off his shoes, his eyes already searching for the warmth of his home.

He can hear the faint sounds of the TV from the living room, Seol’s quiet voice barely audible over the noise of the Christmas movie playing.

The soft clink of the utensils in the kitchen tells him you’re taking care of Moon, feeding her her porridge as always.

He pauses for a moment in the doorway, watching the scene in front of him. Seol is sitting on the couch, his eyes locked on the screen, the familiar pout on his lips as he tries to focus on the movie.

“MY MOONIE!!!!” Jungkook coos.

But as soon as Seol hears the door creak, his little head snaps in Jungkook’s direction.

“Dad!” Seol exclaims, his face lighting up as he jumps off the couch and runs over to him.

Jungkook laughs softly and kneels down to catch him in his arms. “Hey, buddy, you’ve been good today?”

Seol nods, bouncing in his dad’s arms with excitement. “Can we do the presents now? Please?”

Jungkook grins, ruffling his son’s hair. “Yeah, we can. But remember, no peeking, alright?”

Seol’s eyes widen in exaggerated shock. “I won’t peek, I promise!” he says dramatically, his tiny hands gripping the presents he’s already been eyeing, ready to help.

Jungkook’s heart melts at the sight. He watches Seol carefully arrange the gifts under the tree, making sure they’re placed just right.

“You’re doing a great job, kid,” Jungkook praises, standing behind him and watching with pride.

With the presents under the tree, Jungkook stands up straight and looks around the room. His eyes land on you, and his heart skips a beat.

You’re sitting on the couch, Moon resting in your arms, her little eyes bright and curious as she looks up at him. His gaze softens, and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“This is perfect,” he murmurs to himself, before walking over to join you on the couch. He places a hand on your shoulder, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

The world outside may be cold, but in this moment, his world is perfect. He wraps his arms around both you and Moon, feeling the warmth of your little family.

Seol hops over to him with a piece of paper in his hands, excited to share his creation. “Dad! I wrote my note for Santa!” he says, holding it up proudly.

So fucking cute.

Jungkook lifts him up and sits him on his lap, looking at the crayon-written note with amusement. “Let’s make sure it’s extra special,” he says, smiling down at Seol as he starts to write out his wish.

Jungkook can’t help but laugh. His family is everything to him….

each moment with you, with Seol, with Moon, is a gift in itself. He watches Seol write,

Moon quietly snuggled against him, and he pulls you in close, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I love you so much,” he whispers, feeling his heart swell with gratitude.

He knows that this is the life he’s always wanted. A family, a home full of love, and you—his everything.

His gaze lingers on you longer than it should, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. He’s careful to mask it with a soft smile, but in his mind, a darker thought swirls.

You’re mine… The words echo in his head, but he can’t help it—he wants you all to himself, every piece of you. No one else could ever compare, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion, but there’s a possessiveness in it too, an edge that only he understands.

As the laughter of his children fills the room, he feels that familiar protective instinct flare up.

He tightens his grip around you, ensuring you’re close, making sure no one could ever take you from him. Not Seol, not Moon, not anyone.

But his thoughts take a darker turn as he watches you laugh, your eyes twinkling. The way you look at them, the way you care for them.

He looks down at Seol, who’s now tugging at his sleeve, ready to move on to the next part of the Christmas tradition.

But his thoughts are still on you, on your laugh, the warmth of your touch. He won’t let anything—anyone—ever threaten the peace he’s worked so hard to build.

“I’ll make sure of it,” he mutters under his breath, his fingers gripping the paper Seol is holding as the weight of his thoughts presses down on him.

The house is filled with the laughter and warmth of the season, but a darkness simmers just beneath the surface, threatening to rise.

He just loves Christmas.. It’s so beautiful, so merry.

He’ll protect his family. Always.

And no one will ever take you away from him. Not now, not ever.

[theretirementstory]

22/09/2024. Bonjour à tous 👋, it’s a cloudy day and not particularly warm at 17c.

The photo above was taken on the 16 October 2017 from the window of the apartment I lived in when I first arrived. The church, Saint Maclou, had been closed since about the 1950’s and was becoming an eyesore. A European Fund provided money to restore the building, to become what, I am still unsure. Obviously with Covid, work was halted and it seemed as if the restored building would never appear. However, a walk to town on Friday, took me past the church and I am pleased to report that the portacabins and shuttering are no longer there and the church looks amazing. It is one of the 12th century churches in town and it’s wonderful to see it come to life again in the 21st century. (See photo below). Apparently, the outside work is complete it is now the interior work that needs to be finished.

As I only had one hospital visit this week, I was going to have more time for ME and the things that I like doing.

I was awaiting the arrival of the man to finish cleaning the exterior walls of my house, on Monday. He had said around 9am but as it was a dull morning he didn’t put in an appearance until 2pm. Anyway, he worked like a good ‘un, as we say where I come from. He didn’t finish until 8pm 😳 any later and I would have left him to it and gone to bed!

Having watched the neighbour two doors up preparing the ground and building breeze block pillars to put a motorised gate on his property I was feeling that I needed to tidy my front garden before the winter arrives. Monique had said she would clear the weeds from the raised bed in the back but to be honest the nettles are almost two foot high and it is really bugging me looking so untidy. Can I wait for her to put in an appearance?

On Friday I seemed to have found someone else’s energy and after two walks I still felt ok, so went outside to clear weeds and cat poop from the potager, then cover it with cardboard. Well that’s the idea, the cardboard is too big and I can’t cut it (am hoping a friendly neighbour will do it for me). The friendly neighbour brought home a bag of bark from the supermarket and having found just short of half a bag in the garage, I set to and spread that out. Well it looks as if I will need a few more bags, plus I found a bag lurking in the bottom of the storage box outside. Anyway, to say it looks a little better is no exaggeration.

Yesterday, I had it in my head to cut back the clematis, it’s never been done which is maybe why I haven’t seen it flower. I cut the roses back by a third and had cut the hydrangea back too (not too harshly). As the garden is a jungle of weeds I thought to try and sort those out. Imagine my surprise when I found the majority of the weeds were actually in my neighbours garden and had just grown high and come through the fence. So now not content with the neighbour on the other side with six foot high nettles which come through into my garden I have the neighbour on the other side with his weeds coming through! He has the front of his hedge (forsythia) all looking spic and span and just behind the forsythia loads of big weeds growing into my garden 🤔.

I messaged the gardener to see if we are coming into the time for grass cutting to end and if it’s time for weed killing (like the ivy under the shrubs). No response as yet.

My friend, Sarah, a fellow Brit who lives in Haute Marne, came to see me on Tuesday. We had a wonderful natter and she had insisted on bringing lunch. We had steamed salmon, green beans with roasted tomatoes and new potatoes, followed by (a bought) succès cake. These cakes are delicious my absolute favourites. It made such a change to see someone different and being English it was easier to converse.

Then it was the day of the hospital visit, of course, being Wednesday the cleaner was here at 9am, it was a quick lunch and then the taxi arrived at 12:45 not 13:00 as had been arranged! Anyway, my blood results were good for haemoglobin and on the rise for platelets. I had my platelet transfusion, two injections and my PICC line cleaned and dressed. It was still 6ish when I got home but at least that was only one day.

I do like to think I can have a lie in, but my tablets start at 7am so I think if I have slept from around 10pm to 6:30ish I have had a good rest.

Friday saw the return of the knitting group but unfortunately I wasn’t there. I got a photo of them all waving to me and I sent one back. I really must write a resignation letter so that I don’t have that pressure on me. I will be sad to give it all up but my heart isn’t in it anymore.

Anie came to see me last evening. She brought me golden raspberries from her garden along with a posy of beautiful flowers. We sat and talked, looked into my garden at the four areas of cyclamen and looking for birds. Monique has been unwell with ongoing pain in her back, sciatic nerve and leg. She said she had been finding it difficult to drive. She is hoping to come and see me this coming week. Lise, the lady who was in charge of the office at HUDA ( the refugee office) had her baby at the beginning of September. A little girl (or not so little) she weighed 4 kilos (8lbs 13oz) at birth 🤔 same weight as one of mine. Her name is Leonore, what a pretty name.

I am pleased that my life seems to be more mine rather than the hospitals. Sometimes I have felt that I have done nothing else but get into taxis and visit hospitals. I feel quite “normal” now I am sure you understand what I mean. I have time to cook and prepare some wonderful meals which is great as I am eating lots!

Last night I made a pizza and I ate half with salad, it was delicious and I was pleased I made it.

“The Recovery Coordinator” and “The Solicitor” have been eating healthily this last week. She messaged to say that she has lost 5lbs in weight and is very pleased. Work has been tough but she did work from home one day.

“The Solicitor” has been taking his lunch to work and thoroughly enjoyed what he has been eating. It’s good to see that they are on a health kick, getting out for walks as well as enjoying fruit and salads.

To be honest I have been eating lots of salad and really enjoying it. When I went to the hospital I had had soup and a sandwich which was quite filling. However at 4pm my stomach started rumbling and I could have done with having something tasty to eat. I am cutting out crisps, I had enjoyed them with a sandwich and they seemed to fill me up but I was conscious of the fat and salt content.

“The Photographer” went to London midweek and his company were very pleased with the photographs he had taken. This weekend he has his children, he took them to get some clothes for autumn and they were telling me what they had bought. My grandson went off to find his hoodie which had Marvel characters on it, then the three year old, quite patiently, explained to his aged grand-mere who each character was. I really wanted to laugh it was total role reversal 😂, he is just so adorable.

Now the music section. The first song is by Prince, it’s “Thieves in the Temple Part II” it was released in 1990. A bit of a change from me really.

The second song, is one I am surprised I haven’t had already, it’s by Labelle, it’s Lady Marmalade from way back in 1974.

Well we are heading into the last week of September, today is the autumnal equinox and here is a fact which has brought back memories of my visit there. “The staircases at the main Maya pyramid, El Castillo, at Chichen Itza, Mexico, are built at a carefully calculated angle which makes it look like a snake of sunlight slithers down the stairs the moment the equinox occurs.”

Well let’s see what the coming week has in store for me. Someone close to me will celebrate a birthday……. to say he has been looking forward to that day is an understatement. We will find out more for the blog next week!

Have a good week until next week!

[oxydiane]

'Smile!'

For the Day 1 prompt! @jilytoberfest

You can read on AO3 too!

‘I still don’t get why you bother with that chunky muggle thing, we can’t even move in those photographs!’

‘You know,’ Lily’s sweet tone was betrayed by the roll of her eyes. ‘It’s nostalgic, and I can’t really expect Mum and Dad to frame wizard photos.’

‘Why not? We keep that horrible vase your sister’s given us, they can keep something of ours.’

‘You know,’ she starts again, ‘Muggles don’t usually keep moving pictures around, now I wouldn’t be opposed to that, but that would mean she’d have to hide it… and I don’t think Mum would want to hide any of us.’

James straightens his back. ‘Yeah, you’re right, we make too good of a family to keep it to ourselves. The Muggles deserve to see the handsomest of them all.’

That makes Lily giggle and peck her husband on the cheek. She reaches for the polaroid camera that lay discarded on the coffee table, James never figured out how to work it.

‘Smile!’ She exclaims, and right before the camera clicks, James starts tickling the small baby sitting on his lap. Lily rejoices, sure she must have caught the moment.

‘Mum and Dad are going to love this.’

James stands up, Harry’s head resting on his chest as he recovers from the attack. ‘I bet, they’re going to make a right fuss as soon as they see how much this little guy’s teeth have grown. Is that right, Haz? Is grandma going to send another letter complaining about how we never bring you over so she can smother you in peace?’ He speaks in an exaggerated silly voice that makes Harry laugh and reach for James’ face.

‘Oh, please, at least they don’t yell! If I get another howler over breakfast from Euphemia telling me we need to visit soon and bring Harry because they have more gifts for him…’

‘Hey, leave her be! You know she gets lonely, alone with Dad in that big house, her two kids away –‘

‘Talking about her kids,’ interrupts Lily, waving the polaroid near her face. ‘Is Padfoot dropping by soon?’

Harry seems to perk at the mention of his Godfather. ‘Pa’foo?’ He asks, big green eyes travelling from his mother back to his father.

‘Yeah, yeah, your beloved will be here soon,’ says James, talking to Harry rather than Lily. ‘I still can’t believe that was his first word.’ He mutters that to himself.

Mere moments later, the telltale roar of Sirius’ motorbike can be heard from outside their home, and the familiar sound makes Harry clap and laugh in anticipation.

‘Talk of the devil…’ utters James, but he was smiling from ear to ear.

Lily’s eyes roll back as she watches her husband excitedly go for the door. She follows them and crosses her arms, leaning against the wall with what she’s sure is a sickeningly sweet look; watching her son smile big and squish Sirius’ cheeks in his tiny hands whenever his Godfather picks him up does that to her.

‘Heard from a little birdie that little Bambi was missing his Pa’foo?’ Sirius coos while kissing one of Harry’s hands, and Lily was sure that if she tried telling any of their old classmates the Tall, Dark and Handsome Sirius Black actually spends at least three days of the week making a baby voice for her son, they’d say she was mental. Oh, yeah, they’d require proof to believe that.

Struck by an idea, she makes her way back to the coffee table and picks up the discarded muggle camera before quickly walking back and snapping a picture of the scene. Sirius, noticing the click, finally stops fussing over Harry and turns to Lily.

‘I hope that’s not your muggle rubbish, Evans,’ he jokes and Lily laughs freely because she knows he doesn’t mean any of it. ‘I want proper pictures of this baby here, need this charming smile in my wallet to balance the dad’s ugly face.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make do,’ she retorts and shakes the fresh picture as James makes an indignant noise. ‘And it’s ‘Potter’ now, you of all people should know, best man.’

‘Yeah, yeah, sure, let me see that.’ Sirius dismisses the conversation when he notices the picture developing.

Soon, all three of them are looking fondly at the blurry photograph in Lily’s hand and Sirius takes it before turning his attention back to Harry, who had started crying out for him.

‘You know…’ whispers James, ‘We are going to use wizard film for my parents. No this isn’t up for debate! Mum will skin me alive if I send her still, blurry pictures of her grandson – hey, stop laughing!'

[therunawaykind]

I am very happy to hear that! 😄 I wondering if you could please write a Taylor Sloane x reader imagine where the reader gets Taylors attention. She keeps on trying to get the reader attention but nothing works on them and this makes get frustrated because she always gets what she wants but this time she's having problem. So when she sees the reader with another girl, she gets very jealous and ruins the reader and the girls hangout. Which this leads into a fight and taylor confessing her love for the reader which ends up in the two kissing and the reader telling her she also likes her. 😅

The reader can be any gender you like it to be😊 and thank you! 😊

Got something to tell you

Pairing: Taylor Sloane x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Curse words, fluff, angsty?

Author's Note: I don't know why but I was really nervous writing this one-shot. I'm hoping this satisfies you're jealous Taylor Sloane needs. It's a lot longer than I anticipated but anywho. Checked over everything, pretty sure there is no use of any specific pronouns if there is please let me know! I hope you enjoy it (Yes I also mentioned Ingrid because let's be real Ingrid deserved better)

| MASTERLIST | DISCORD | GET NOTIFIED OF MY STORIES |

//

You worked as a freelance photographer for as long as you remember, you worked with everyone and anyone at this stage from celebrities, influencers, social media stars and so on. Although you had never worked with her you never heard the end of the new upcoming and unmissable Taylor Sloane, whilst she seemed like someone you would never work with you had a feeling with would be inevitable. You didn’t necessarily hate or dislike her she just seemed like a lot, to be quite honest. It was pure coincidence when you moved across the road from her, she was stood outside in her garden eyeing you, you had no idea if that was a good or bad situation. You just assumed she knew you from all your photography work...which she did know but she was interested in you as a person as well. Much to Taylor’s dismay she never had the chance to go over and talk to you because she was either busy with people or you were constantly on the phone, which caused her to spiral thinking who you were on the phone to was it your partner? work? Family? She honestly couldn’t narrow it down.

Taylors annoyance didn’t subside when she saw a girl frequently coming and going from your house across the street, with that girl being in the way made her ‘mission’ a lot more difficult than it needed to be. Even though she tried her best to remain composed because you two haven’t even talked, it might just be a constant hookup.

You were prepping for a photoshoot in one of the rooms in your house when the girl you’re kinda seeing? But kinda not? Came up behind you saying “hey Y/n, you know that woman across the street keeps looking over and pretty much watching your every move right?” You glance behind you and spin around to face the window and hum “Yea I guess Mia but she’s Taylor Sloane that upcoming influencer person, she’s probably just tryna figure out how to work with me.” You stare out the window in thought as you mindlessly pack all the equipment you need into your bag “anyway Mia I gotta head out to a shoot I’ll see ya later.”

You’ve been at the beach for a few hours with the model when you start hearing over-exaggerated laughing and giggles you automatically roll your eyes and hear a chorus of “oh my god Taylor!” and immediately under your breath you mumbled “fuck.” You miss out and don’t see the pointing and staring at you and you don’t hear the whispers of them saying “omg it’s Y/n L/n, d’you think they’d be able to take a picture for us now?” Surprisingly enough it was Taylor that declined and mumbled “we can’t ask them to take a picture of us now they’re working on a shoot.” Which involved Taylor getting confused looks from her ‘friends’ because she never cared if a person was working she’d get a photo taken by them no matter what. While all this was going on, you were still in your own little world listening to music through your wireless headphones in one of your ears. As you were taking a few steps back someone collided with you and heard a slight “fuck..oh no.” You signalled for the model to take 5 minutes and turned around. “Taylor Sloane to what do I owe the pleasure of you colliding with me.” In the background, you could still see all her friends giggling and staring at you. Taylor’s mouth dropped when she realised you knew who she was, she cleared her throat and stuttered “ehh we...I know you’re busy but um… my friends were wondering would you be able to take just a quick little picture of us since you know you’re such a great photographer and all.” You looked between Taylor and her little posse and exhaled “make it quick.” After taking a quick few snaps of them on Taylor’s phone, her friends ran off and Taylor turned around and exclaimed “honestly thank you so much you didn’t have to do that.” You nodded and waved her off.

What Taylor didn’t know was as she left you took photos of just her on your camera and smirked to yourself.

Hours after you got home your phone started buzzing on the table as you were editing photos. The first notification you saw was Taylor Sloane has tagged you in a post. You grinned walked over to the window and funnily enough there she was looking over. You gave her a smug wave and walked away. After that you pretty much go back to not taking much notice of Taylor and continue on with work, hanging out with Mia and basically being everywhere Taylor wasn’t.

Much to Taylor’s annoyance, it frustrated her that the picture you took of her and her friends was her most liked post on her Instagram. Why? Her other pictures looked the exact same, was it just because your name was on them? More than likely and fans thinking you’re both going to be working together soon which wasn’t the case. Taylor never got the chance to get you alone, always with that fucking girl, or you just straight-up avoiding her. It didn’t take very long for her to start complaining to her friends about why you weren’t hanging out with her more. All her friends could come up with was invite them to a party at your house, I mean they live straight across from you.

Needless to say Taylor Dm’ed you about the party instantly.

You also didn’t reply and didn’t show up.

Shocker.

Another few days passed, another invite to a party, another party Y/n didn’t show up to.

Taylor decided to ask again a few weeks later, she was beyond angry and annoyed at this stage. What she didn’t know what you were going to be going tonight however, you were gonna bring Mia with you for the company because you’d literally know no one there. As you finished getting ready you ran your fingers through your hair and paced “Mia can we not go I regret this decision already.” Mia answered with a quick “nope, now come on.” You grabbed everything you needed and walked over and into Taylor’s, neither of you could spot her so you both walked to the back to grab some drinks.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ingrid Thorburn talk to someone, you smiled to yourself knowing that her life hasn’t been the easiest. Whilst it confused you how she was friends with Taylor you were happy she had a secure group of friends to support her now when things got tough. The funny thing is it was Taylor she was talking to and you didn’t even realise.

Taylor saw you out of the corner of her eye and started freaking out internally and started freaking out to Ingrid, then she saw the fucking girl with you again and too close to you for her liking. She decided to do what she knew the best act like a fucking clutz with that she excused herself from Ingrid and started her way over to you. Before she came close, you’d realise it was her she decided to ‘trip’ and spill her drink on you. Which ended up being a lot fuller than she realised so she did sort of feel bad, considering how much of it went all down your clothes.

You whipped your head around to the person and rolled your eyes “Taylor really? Invite me to a party just to spill your drink on me.” Taylor immediately started to freak out, she didn’t really think you’d react this way but at the same time could she blame you? She did spill her drink all over you. “Y/n I am so sorry, I did genuinely trip.” you cut her off mumbling “mhmm.” Taylor sighed and looked up at you “look can I at least bring you upstairs and get a change of clothes for you?” You crossed your arms over your chest “well since it was an accident that was your fault, I guess it’s only fair.” What Taylor didn’t know though was that you really weren’t as mad as you let on to be you really just wanted to see her panic.

“You know when I agreed to come to this party I didn’t expect the host to spill her drink all over my clothes. You continued walking up the stairs with Taylor “Y/n I told you I am genuinely sorry.” Taylor walks into her room and opens her closet “Choose whatever you like, whatever you’re comfortable in.” You take a quick glance around her room and looks back at her “huh Taylor Sloane actually apologising for something and letting me have free reign over all the clothes she has.” As you were flicking through her closet to get a change of clothes out of the corner of your eye you saw her jaw clench. “Y’know what Y/n I didn’t have to offer you a fucking change of clothes, I could’ve left you smelling like alcohol all night with that girl you’re with all the time. Also, what would you want me to do not say sorry, claim it was all a part of my master plan to finally be able to talk to you alone for once? You’re infuriating you barely know me! You have probably assumed all this shit about me because you hear others talk about me and claim that’s what I’m like.”

You were stood staring at her with your mouth open you tried to cut her off “Taylor.” She kept ranting, you stuck your tongue in your cheek and exclaimed “TAYLOR what you’re doing right now is not much better than what you assumed I did. You are quite literally assuming all this shit about me, funnily enough, you don’t know me I’m just some photographer to you that you can work with and get you a bunch of new followers and fans.”

Taylor started fidgeting nervously and spoke quietly “you’re not just some photographer.” You stared at her and ran your hands over your face “what are you on about Taylor?” Taylor starts pacing around her room “oh fuck here we go, I like you okay and since you moved across the street I’ve been trying my best to get your attention to try and hang out, but clearly, that wasn’t working. So no you’re not just a photographer to me, I didn’t even wanna bother you that day on the beach that was all my friends that’s why I bumped into you.”

You stared at her and started smirking. Taylor scoffed “why are you smirking, don’t laugh at my failure I don’t understand why I get so flustered around you, I’ve never been like this around anyone else.” You could see she was about to go on another tangent so you strode over to her wrapped your arms around her waist and started kissing her. One of Taylor’s hands was on the back of your neck while the other was on your chest trying to bring you as close as possible to her. Taylor quickly realised what was happening and walked backwards and said breathlessly “Y/n what did you just do, you have that girl downstairs.” You stared at her “Girl? Oh, Mia? She’s not really anything to worry about we were kinda together then realised better as friends. Also if it wasn’t clear by the kiss I do kinda like you too, I was just acting like an asshole to get you to panic more and freak out.” Taylor rolled her eyes and mumbled, “of course.” A grin took over your face and you went over and held her hand and whispered “come on we got a party to get back to and they’re all probably wondering where the host is gone.”

You and Taylor walked back to the party hand in hand smiling like two complete idiots. You two never looked back after that night it was the start of a great relationship and a beautiful working relationship between the two of you.

[vynegar]

luke personal story card 2, part two

high school flashback!!!

same disclaimer and notes from part one.

youtube link to Sherry’s Gaming Notes video of the card story

links to other parts: one

more tot translations here

do not repost

[PART TWO]

[6:52] Bus Stop

The day that I took that class photo with Luke was also a summer day like today.

MC: (But why did I look so serious... Weird.)

I leaned back on the bench and looked up, closing my eyes to think. Fragments of sunlight passed through the shade of the tree, shedding warmth onto my face and shoulders. And at that moment...

???: Whatcha thinking about?

Something chilly suddenly pressed up against my forehead. The bench creaked as someone sat close beside me, carrying with him a wave of warmth –

The popsicle that had previously been in close contact with my forehead was now handed over by Luke. However, I was too busy to be bothered with that, as my gaze was following him the entire time...

[examine popsicle]

Luke: Ah... I feel much better now.

Luke spoke indistinctly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. But no matter how much he panted, or even if he loosened the buttons on his collar, the blush on his face showed no signs of disappearing. The popsicle dangled precariously at his lips, about to split open along with the sweet syrup that was rapidly melting...

MC: Luke, your popsicle's about to...

Luke: Hm? What?

Several drops of sweat dripped down from the ends of his hair and left a wet streak on his neck. He was the one who was dripping with sweat, but I felt a strange heat rising from within me and couldn't help gripping the popsicle wrapper in my hand.

Luke: Don't worry, it won't melt that quickly. Are you planning on just staring at me and letting your popsicle melt into juice? You're not getting faint from the heat, are you? Always sitting there spacing out...

[examine collar]

Luke seemed to unconsciously lick at the syrup on his lips, his expression turning contemplative.

Luke: Oh right, what I said to you earlier... I was serious.

MC: What?

Luke: Cutting your hair! There's got to be scissors for cutting hair at the vacation house. You just relax and leave it to me...

MC: Pfft! Luke, why does that tone sound like you snuck off to train at a barbershop without me knowing?

Luke eyes slightly widened at my teasing, and he unexpectedly got defensive.

Luke: I have years of experience! This time your satisfaction is guaranteed...

MC: ("This time"...? What does he mean by that...)

[examine outside]

Seeing that I was still deep in thought, Luke intentionally heaved an exaggerated sigh.

Luke: MC, look over there.

I followed Luke's line of sight to the other side of the bus stop, where a considerable number of students were standing. Since it was the height of summer, many schools would be organizing trips in the summer to give students practical experience. Of course, Luke and I had once done that too...

[…]

As I was considering Luke's suggestion, it was as though a sudden ding! went off, and my scattered mind quickly began to turn. The summer day before me transformed, becoming more and more familiar...

[flashback]

[9:09] Bus Stop

MC: Luke... Luke...!

Under the dazzling heat of the sun, I wove through the crowd to make a beeline toward a certain bus. A moment before, Luke was still leaning against the bus, deep in thought, but when he heard my call he turned quickly and nimbly steadied me.

Luke: MC! What's the rush, are you okay?

MC: Of course not! Hurry up and cover me –

In the blink of an eye, I knelt to the ground and peeked my head out from behind Luke. A man was inspecting the surroundings a mere several steps away from us, his eyes scanning the students like a vulture.

Luke: Are you... hiding from the supervisor of our grade?

The supervisor that Luke had mentioned was famously strict and particularly zealous about inspecting students' appearance. This year our entire grade was visiting the Stellis Avian Observatory, and on the way here he had already caught several students with bangs that were too long...

MC: (I feel like my hair is doomed for the same fate...)

Luke: You've got some guts, y'know. What if he comes over here and takes us both away for detention?*

MC: Impossible! You're his favorite student, no one's going to get you in trouble. You've been in so many science competitions and won so many awards, all the teachers adore you. Oh right, did the results for that Biology Olympiad come out yet? I heard...

I was still talking about "intel" regarding Luke, but realized that he had averted his eyes for some reason.

MC: Luke, pay attention!

Luke: ...ah, I'm listening.

Despite saying that, Luke's gaze was still drifting.

Luke: The teacher... still hasn't said anything. So don't believe those rumors either, okay?

MC: Luke...?

Luke smiled strangely. I felt his fingers slowly reaching into my hair, the strands silently sliding through the gaps between his fingers.

Luke: Instead of listening to that gossip... the situation here is clearly the more "urgent" one. Your hair has grown longer. Here, and here too. This is practically a blatant violation of school rules.

MC: ! What do I do, you have to help me...

Luke: Well, you can’t hide forever. How about... later I come to your dorm room and help you trim your hair?

[end flashback]

 [11:04] Bus Stop

The memory slowly faded. I felt something warm at my head – it was Luke, once again carefully helping me straighten my hair. Rather than helping me comb my hair, it was more like he was swept up in some obscure emotion and touching me instinctively.

Luke: Well? What did you remember?

Even his voice had softened. I couldn't help but grin, mischievously poking his side.

MC: What's up with you today? Suddenly reminiscing about our time in school?

Luke: Yeah. Why did I remember those things? Maybe the sight of this just brought up some emotions? Or because of something else... We can take our time and talk about it later. The bus is here, let's go find some seats.

Luke took my hand as if get on the bus. But the moment we were about to merge into the crowd, he stopped.

MC: Luke?

The surroundings were noisy, and the students were all focused on the bus that had finally arrived. In a corner that they hadn't noticed, Luke bent down at the waist, slowly blocking my view...

MC: Why are you...! There are still kids here!

I covered my forehead with a smack. Luke's expression curved into a smile; it seemed like he still wanted to reach out and flick my forehead.

Luke: You... Just hurry up and remember, okay?

MC: (What was up with Luke today...?)

[END PART TWO]

[PART THREE]

*Like in my translation for Vyn’s Revisiting Youth SR, I changed the punishment to a detention since it’s probably more familiar to an English-speaking audience. It was originally 写检讨, which is when a teacher makes you write a “self-criticism” where you write what you were doing, why you were doing it, that you won’t do it again, etc.

[princessofprocrastination]

request because i adore the way you write angst to fluff, but maybe a just the reader and cc (whoever you prefer) getting into an argument, voices are raised or regretful things are said and cc has to fight to win back reader? idk just an idea for writers block!

have a good day :)

You’re Leaving Me (Sapnap)

this story fast forwards to the future a little, getting after 2021!

pairing : sapnap x fem!reader

summary : voices were raised when you were concerned about where you relationship is going. all this just to know if you were going to be in his future. was it worth the argument?

a/n : dude i fucking love you for sending this request. this def helped me :))))

"when are you coming back?" you asked your boyfriend of 3 years now.

he shrugged his shoulders. "i didn't think that far yet." he told you, eyes not meeting yours, busy packing his suitcase.

"what?" your voice slightly raised. you flinched at your own tone. "you mean to tell me you bought a one-way ticket to florida and didn't think about coming home?"

"i'll come home, just don't know when." he tells you, glancing at you to see your reaction.

okay, let's back track. sapnap, and you met at a dinner your mom hosted. her colleague, sapnap’s mom and her got close and shared some personal family details, one of which being that they had a kid, both around the same age, addicted to their electronics.

both moms hadn't thought that you two would get so close, you being uncomfortable in meeting new people, and him being socially awkward.

but, not even a while later, you two were inseparable and soon started dating.

and now, that boyfriend that you were once attached to the hip to had just told you that he had bought a ticket to florida to visit his friend, dream, and didn't have a ticket back.

you had nothing against dream, you two had spoken a while back in a light-hearted conversation, exchanging a couple of jokes here and there.

"you were the one who told me to visit him." sapnap tells you, exasperated.

yes, you had been the one to encourage him to go to florida. it would be good for him to have a change of scenery. you told him to think of it like a mini vacation, the borders finally opening again. you thought it was a great idea.

but you hadn't thought he wouldn't come back for a while. that's not what you wanted, at all.

"yes, i did, but i wanted you to come back after like 2 weeks." your hands brought to your face to ease the headache you suddenly got.

"you're being stupid." your boyfriend tells you.

you drop your hands to your lap, a small slap sound emitted from the action. "i'm being stupid? all i want is you to have a break. a short break, and then come back." you told him honestly. you were tired of the argument at this point.

"and what i want is to stay with my best friend for a while. stop being selfish." he scoffs.

you stayed quiet, trying to reorganise your thoughts before the argument turns big for no reason.

the air turns more tense by the minute. the quiet turns eerie at one point, the only sounds are you two breathing.

to be honest, you couldn't remember how you two got here. how it got this bad. but as you thought this situation is bad, it got worse. and it had been because of the next question you asked.

"where are we going with this?" you finally say something- well, more like asked. "this relationship, where are we going with it?"

you heard his breath hitch, albeit quiet, you still heard it. "what?" he scoffs once again.

"you're leaving me, for god knows how long, so i'm asking, where is this going?" you were done with questioning yourself everyday. this conversation had been way too long overdue.

and if the two of you were going to argue, might as well argue about something else, too. and something that was important. 

“this is irrelevant.” he tells you, continuing to pack his suitcase on the floor. you look down at him, you being sat on his bed and him being on the floor, legs crossed, folding his clothes. 

“no, it’s not.” you tell him, this time more seriously. you were sick and tired of being asked what is going to be your next move, being 20 and had been dating for a while. 

some would say you two are too young to take the next step in anything, or even have this conversation, but you and him had always taken the express train in things. 

“i just want answers.” you sighed. “you could come back next week, next month, hell, even next year. and i just want to know where this is going.” you pulled your legs to cross them on his bed. 

“i’m not leaving you, i’m coming back to you, all i’m doing is going to meet my best friend.” his tone more serious now. 

“which means you’re leaving me. and i’m terrified.” you told him, seriously. “we’ve been together for 3 years, since we were in highschool.”

“it’s only been 3 years.” he laughed. “what’s the rush.” 

“we’re both working. sure, we’re both taking online classes, but, what’s not to rush about?” you say. 

“you’re being ridiculous.” he rolls his eyes at your last statement. 

okay, you might be exaggerating. but you weren’t telling him to get hitched, you were asking him what comes after this? moving in together? 

“i just want to know what happens after this, after you leave.” your shoulders slumped down, you knew he was going to get mad soon, his temper already rising. 

“for god’s sake, i’m not leaving you. i will come back, i just don’t know when.” he screams. “stop fucking asking, i’m getting a headache.” 

your eyes widen slightly. no, you didn’t flinch. you knew this would happen, anyways. 

“all i want to know is what’s in for the both of us. give me something to hold on to after you leave for florida.” your voice small, yet still pushing for an answer. 

“oh my fucking god.” he says, his voice full of malice, which made your goosebumps rise. “i don’t want to marry you, what part of that do you not understand.” he raises his voice slightly towards the end of his sentence. 

“do you get it now, my silence. i don’t want you to move in with me, i don’t want to propose, i don’t want to marry you. i don’t want kids with you.” he finally looks you in the eye.

the air turned tense once again as you became quiet. 

“yeah, i get it.” you finally speak up. 

you took your phone and stood up from your position from his bed and went near him on the floor.

“thank you for being honest to me.” you bent down to him, giving him a last kiss on the cheek.

you walked to his bedroom door to walk out before glancing at him one last time. “i love you.” you told him for the last time. 

you wanted to let him know that you didn’t leave because you lost feelings, but more like because having a more serious relationship is not what he had wanted, and you respected it. 

you took your bag from the couch outside, telling his mom that you were going to go home, giving her a kiss on the cheek and thanking her for the dinner you made for you earlier. that was probably the last time you’d talk to her, too. 

sapnap was still seated on the floor, hand in the air, holding a piece of clothing he was meant to fold before you kissed him on the cheek. 

he knew what it meant. the kiss, and the “i love you.” 

and that terrified him. what did he just do?

- 

fast forward to more than a year later, you were thriving, if you said so yourself. 

you quit your job, deciding to finish your  double major in college before starting to work again. you took in as many classes as possible, during the summer and winter breaks and extra classes to graduate as early as possible. 

after that eventful day, you spilled everything to your mom. you sobbed on her shoulders. she comforted you through the entirety of your breakdowns. 

she was one to thank of your success now. 

she cried when you graduated, being the most proud of you for finally finishing college and being able to do what you love. 

with that double major, you only decided to be a flight attendant. always wanted to be one, you were happy to hear back from one of the most prestigious airlines in the world.

and now, you were happy and healthy again. 

and here you are now, sitting at a table, with your parents and your ex boyfriend’s parents. 

at first when you met his mom again after he had left for florida, it was awkward and weird. you didn’t know if she knew if he had even told him. 

but she assured you that she knew and to not feel uncomfortable with her just because of her son. and with that information, you started talking to her again comfortably. 

- 

‘fuck, i’m nervous.” he told his tall friend. 

his friend chuckles. “you’ll be just fine.” he assures his texan friend. 

the taller man looks out into the restaurant booth that the two families were sitting at to peek. “holy fuck.” he lets out. 

“what? what?” the shorter man in a suit asks repeatedly in panic. 

“man, she was hot before but she is smokin’ now.” the floridian says. “i hope you mess up, now.” he jokes. 

“shut up, dude.” the texan says, now more nervous. he had seen a couple photos of you that his mom sent him and his friend was right, you did get more attractive, and he didn’t even think that was possible, given how already beautiful you were from a year ago. 

“this is a bad idea.” sapnap says after a while of silence. 

his tall friend turns to him. “what are you talking about? no, it isn’t. you’ve thought about this for over a year now.” he says to his friend as assurance. 

“yeah but she won’t just take me back.” he sighs out. “it has been over a year. i just left her.” 

the two fell into a comfortable silence, both not knowing what else to say. dream knew better than to say anything, he learnt to let his friend let it all out. 

“that last kiss, that last ‘i love you’, plays in my head over and over again from the day she left my house.” sapnap says after a while. he needed to let out his frustration about himself one last time to gain the balls to talk to you again. 

“and as much as i regretted screaming at her, telling her i didn’t want to have a life with her, i let her go. i tensed up and stayed on the floor and i let her go.” he continues. 

“and almost 2 years later, i just come back? what kind of person does that to a woman so perfect? all she wanted to know was if she was in my future, like how i was in hers.” the texan 22 year old finishes. 

his shoulders slumped lower than before before stretching his tense muscles and giving himself a pep talk in his head to go talk to you. 

dream glanced at his obviously nervous friend. “again, you’ll be just fine.” he says to the man fiddling with a red box.

“she’ll say no.” sapnap says, exasperated, trying to understand why he’s here again.

“with your charming looks? no chance.” the tall man jokes light-heartedly. “look, we both know you thought about this for a long time now, and now is not the time to back off from it. you spent a lot of money and effort for this. now what’s left for you to do is ask.” he says. 

“right, right. just ask.” he mutters to himself. he prayed silently to all the gods above that he got the private booth instead of one in the middle of the restaurant. he wouldn’t want you to feel obliged to accept him just because you don’t want him to feel embarrassed. 

he walks out of his hiding spot, not before dream giving him a comforting pat on the back. 

he fiddles with the box in his hands before putting it back into his suit pocket to hide it. 

the closer he gets to you, the more he gets to see how much you’ve changed. you looked elegant in your dress, in his favourite shade of red. you looked collected and mature. 

“okay, here i go.” he told himself before approaching your table. 

“hey.” he said slowly and quietly, hoping he didn’t startle you but loud enough that you heard him so he didn’t need to repeat himself. 

he could see his mom and yours giving him the biggest smiles or assurance. of course both your parents knew. he needed to ask for permission, anyways. they were supportive of him, but ultimately, it’s up to you. 

his breath hitched as you turn your head to look at him, wondering how greeted the table. 

“she’s even more beautiful in real life.” he thought to himself. 

you were sipping on champagne when you heard someone greet you. as you turn and put the glass down, you were shocked to see your ex boyfriend. 

a more attractive version of your ex boyfriend. 

his face more mature, the suit he was wearing fit perfectly on his body. but you could still see how tired he looked. his sunken eyes were too obvious for you to ignore. 

the table grew tired. you glanced at your family, trying to see if they knew this was happening, if are just as confused as you are. 

but they were smiling. sly jerks. 

you turn back to the man you haven’t seen since that day you left his house. 

“i know, this is shocking to you. we haven’t seen each in almost 2 years.” he starts saying. “and i know i have no right to be here after i let go of you.” he sighs. 

“but ever since that day, i have been kicking myself for being so stupid to even think that i could live without you even for another second.” 

you open your mouth to say something before he cuts you off before you could even utter a word. 

“i know, i still left for florida and i still stayed there for a long time. i didn’t even call, i didn’t text. and i feel terrible.” he comes closer to you. 

“i said terrible things to you, when all you wanted to know was what i had in store for the both of us in the future. all you wanted was something to hold on to until i came back to texas to you.” he says, eyes teary. “i got to see you grow to be a more wonderful and smart woman over the year, thanks to my mom for sending me your updates.” 

“and i see that you’re great without me. you have this amazing job and amazing friends and an amazing family who supports you through whatever you want to do.” he tells you, looking you in the eye. he looked extremely nervous, hands shaking as he goes to take your hands into his. 

you stayed sat down, not knowing what to say. and at some point, you didn’t know when, you started crying silently, slow tears going down your cheeks. 

you took one of your hands away from his to wipe away the tear before holding his hand again. this gave him a little bit of hope for the next thing he was going to do. 

“and i know this is late, but i do want you to be in my future. but i just hope there is still space in yours for me to be in.” he kneels down on one knee as he finishes. 

you tense up, eyes widened. slowly, your mouth opened and you took your hands to cover it. this is definitely not what you had expected to happen today. 

you look at him as he reaches in his suit pocket to take out an elegant looking red box, with pretty gold swirls on the top. he opens the box for you to see the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen. 

the ring that you’ve saved multiple times on your pinterest board. the ring you’ve told your mom you fell in love with. 

the ring of your dreams. 

“so i guess this is when i ask the question.” he inhales through his mouth and exhales out of his nose. his hands start to shake as he holds the box. 

“will you marry me?” he finally asks the question. your eyes staring into his, tears still flowing, but you don’t bother to wipe away. 

“um. you can say no, i’m sorry if this was too invasi-” he talks but is cut off by you. 

“yes.” you say once, still not believing that this was happening. he looks at you to make sure he heard it right. 

“say that again.” he says quietly. 

“yes, i’ll marry you.” you tell him before he smiles brightly. he takes the ring out of the box and takes your left hand, sliding it on your bare finger. 

he admires the glimmer of the ring under the restaurant lights and the ring being on your finger before he kisses your hand and takes you into his embrace. he gives you a tight squeeze before pulling you back to finally give you a kiss on the lips. 

“fucking finally.” you heard a familiar voice say. 

“shut up, dream.” you heard your now fiancé, say, not looking at him but still looking at you with his dreamy eyes and the dreamy look he has on his face. 

you heard applaud going on in the restaurant as the people in the start to notice the romantic atmosphere. 

sapnap stands up and pulls you up to stand with him as he hug your tight once again, this time staying that way for a while to busk in your scent that he had missed so much. 

after a while, the two of you detach and hug your families. you notice the tall man in a classy white button up and black pants and shiny shoes standing there. 

you give him a hug before talking. “nice to finally meet you, dream.” you say to him. 

“alright cuties, let’s take pictures of you and that beautiful ring.” your mom says. 

to which you remembered about the ring. you look down at your hands, admiring it for a while before turning to sapnap.

“you are so sneaky.” you told him. 

“i know. tell me i did good.” he tells you before pulling you in by your waist. 

“you did amazing.” you say before kissing him on the cheek. 

“i love you.” he says to you before kissing your forehead and turning to look at the camera when your mom called for another pose. 

what a day. 

[dreaming-of-assclass]

hey hey hey zaina! i’m back from the dead real quick to give you prompts 💕 can you do “i can’t wait until i have a car” for kimura + a student of your choice, and “is that a toast in your mouth?” for sugino + maehara? sending lots of love your way!! 💕🎉💕

AHHHH HI 💗💗💗 omg welcome back!!! how are you??? and ahh thanks for the prompts!! i decided to go with Yada as the student of my choice, and omg i love these! I always enjoy hearing from you! Sending you love too!!! 💕💕

Kimura + Yada - "I can't wait until I have a car"

…

Kimura wasn't usually the type to exaggerate often. As the son of police officers, he was raised to speak in a more blunt and...efficient manner. Whatever that meant.

He was used to conveying information through facts and objective observations. "I just tell it how it is," he laughed nervously when Kataoka came close to throttling him one time after he pointed out that she smelled like chlorine.

But right now, an exaggerative statement was the only thought in his mind as he gazed depressingly outside. Just beyond the protection of Yada's front porch, torrential rain fell like thick sheets.

"It's pouring," he breathed. "Like a literal waterfall out here."

Yada rolled her eyes and yanked his arm, ignoring his "ouch!"

"Don't be dramatic, it's literally the season for these storms now. They don't last long anyways. Now get back inside!"

Kimura followed her back into her house, instantly sheltered from the chaos that was reigning just beyond the door. The lights were dimmed downstairs, the only source of brightness coming from the kitchen.

Yada gestured him to sit down while she opened up her fridge. "What do you feel like having for breakfast?"

"Uhhh, anything is fine." His brain was still half-asleep as it was about 7am. "What do you want?"

Yada hummed. "I'll just grab some different leftovers and warm stuff up." She set to pulling out various containers and take-out boxes and putting them down on the counter.

"Can I help with anything?" Kimura felt his hands fidgeting, aching for something to do.

Yada glanced at him, her gaze flickering to his hands. "Sure, can you wipe down the table for me please?"

"Gotcha." He jumped up and gratefully took the cloth and cleaning spray from her hands.

Even though the only light was in the kitchen, it was still rather dark. Only a few windows in the house were open, but minimal light poured inside. The sky was clouded and gray as the storm continued.

Kimura wiped down the table thoroughly to the sound of rain falling outside, colliding against the roof and ground. Nearby, Yada fiddled quietly with the stove and plates. It was comforting.

He finished with the table. "Hey, do you want me to clean the floor too?"

She was occupied with stirring a pot on the stove, but still replied. "Sure. The broom is in the closet down the hallway."

"Alright, be right back."

He leaped onto his feet quietly as he walked quickly towards the hallway. It was still dark and Kimura couldn't help but feel a sense of eeriness creep up his spine. There were a few framed photos of Yada's family on the walls. He stopped in his tracks to examine them.

It looked like a typical nuclear family. Happy parents with a talented older daughter and an adorable son. They each smiled brightly in one photo, when both Yada and her brother seemed younger.

Then in every photo after that, the family's smiles became more and more forced. Basically grimaces. Kimura frowned as he saw a larger distance between Yada and her parents in the most recent one. They all seemed colder somehow.

Suddenly, a noise broke his thoughts and he paused, his heart racing.

It was muffled at first, coming from down the hallway. Then it repeated itself louder.

Kimura felt his heart pounding, but curiosity got the better of him. He walked slowly towards the noise, his footsteps practically silent. Thank you, Mr Karasuma.

The sound came back, this time much clearer. It was a voice calling out "Onee-chan."

Kimura pushed the door open without even thinking.

A little boy was sitting up in his bed, his lap covered by a thick blanket. There were stuffed plushies besides him, as well as various books and art supplies on the nightstand. He was dressed in a thin long-sleeve with a spaceship pattern on it.

His hair was the same dark brown shade as Yada's, but his eyes were a rich hazel brown. As his face contorted in confusion, Kimura recognized him belatedly as Yada's brother. Akihito.

Oh shit...

"Who are you?" Akihito demanded with a frown. His voice was incredibly soft.

"Um, I'm Kimura," he replied immediately. "I'm, uh, friends with your sister."

Akihito craned his head to see what could be behind Kimura and the door. "Where's Onee-chan?"

"She's in the kitchen. Do you want me to go get her?"

Akihito's eyebrows scrunched up as he considered the question. Then the words came out quietly and laced with trepidation. "Can you fix this for me instead?"

Kimura stepped closer, intrigued. "Sure. Fix what?"

The boy pulled out a book from the first drawer in the nightstand and handed it to him. "Here. The page is ripped and I can't read it now."

Kimura flipped through to the page he indicated, and sure enough, there was a large crease and rip on the page. It blocked out the words and seemed like a nuisance.

"Yeah, for sure! Got any tape in here?"

"I think it's on the desk." Akihito pointed towards the corner of the room, at the small desk sitting besides the window.

Kimura jogged towards the desk and pushed aside a few pens and markers. He found the tape dispenser and ripped out a large piece before securing it over the rip. He followed that with another piece to go on the back, keeping it stable.

"Here ya go." He smiled and passed it over back to Akihito, whose face lit up.

It was now that Kimura noticed how pale the boy was. His cheeks lacked the roundness and healthiness that most children had. There were dark circles under Akihito's eyes.

Kimura felt his chest tighten, a familiar memory coming to mind.

My brother is really sick, and I had to miss my exam to take care of him...

"Thank you," Akihito whispered.

"No problem, kiddo."

The door opened quietly, and they both snapped up to see Yada stepping in. Her eyes widened in slight surprise at the sight of Kimura.

"Oh, you're here," she laughed. "I thought you somehow got lost in my very simple house plan."

"I'm not that dumb," he grumbled, watching as she came over to Akihito's bedside.

"Hey, you," she said softly, running a hand gently through the boy's hair. "You feeling okay?"

Akihito nodded and her smile grew. "Is this the friend you mentioned before? The one with green hair who runs really fast?"

"Yup, it is him."

Kimura's jaw dropped. "You talk about me?"

Yada rolled her eyes, amused. "I talk about everyone. Don't feel special."

He dramatically touched his hand to his chest. "You've reached my heart, Yada."

He realized that the sound of the rain had lightened up considerably. One glance at the window confirmed that the downpour wasn't nearly as bad as it was before.

"Alright, Aki," Yada started gently, holding his hand. "We're gonna go to school soon. Mina-san will be here soon, and I'll be back later."

Kimura assumed that Mina-san was a caretaker or nanny of some kind.

"Okay, Onee-chan. Have a good day," Akihito replied softly. "You too, Kimura-san. And thanks again for fixing my book."

Kimura grinned at him. "No problem, kid. And take care, huh? Hope I see you again."

He waved and left the room to give the siblings some privacy, heading back to the kitchen. There was a spread of food on the table, and Kimura hadn't realized how hungry he actually was.

Leftover fried rice, toast with jam spread, a bowl of white rice and natto on top of it, miso soup. It was an odd arrangement but Yada did say she was grabbing whatever was in the fridge, and Kimura couldn't bring himself to be picky. He was starving.

"Well, dig in," Yada's voice returned and he whipped around to see her back in the kitchen. They both took seats at the table, and she spooned food onto both their plates.

They ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, both relishing in finally filling their stomaches. After a bit, Kimura had to ask.

"So, is he gonna have to be alone...?"

Yada finished chewing her bite of toast before replying. "Just for a little. After we leave, Mina-san, his nurse, has a key and will get in. I just convinced him to go back to sleep until she comes."

"Ah...I see."

There was silence again, only the sound of raindrops falling on the ground outside filling the air. Until Yada broke the silence this time.

"Thanks for checking on him, by the way."

Kimura flushed. "Oh, I-"

She laughed. "I know you were being nosy, it's okay. Just...thank you for giving him company. I appreciate it a lot, you know?"

His gaze dropped down to his bowl, where he was absentmindedly stirring his spoon. Cubes of tofu swirled around amongst the herbs. "You're a great sister, Yada."

Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, her eyes closing. "I really try my best."

"Well, I think you're doing a great job. And he thinks so, too."

"Thank you," Yada replied, her voice breaking slightly. It was such a small but noticeable contrast to her usual confident, steady, diplomatic tone.

They said nothing for a while, until Kimura felt bursting with questions again. Before he even opened his mouth, she cut him off with a sigh, "Shoot."

Kimura's eyebrows shot up. "How'd you know-?"

"I can tell you're probably wondering why the hell my house is so dark, where are my parents, what's up with the photos, yada yada." She smirked at her own wordplay.

"Well...damn. Yeah, pretty much."

She pushed aside her plate and rested her hands on her chin. "Both my parents are working. They have to do double shifts a lot to keep affording his nurse and medicine, all his treatments and the hospital bills."

Kimura listened quietly.

"Our house is dark because the light used to really bother him. Like it would send him into awful migraines." She paused. "Even when his light sensitivity went away, we just kept them dark. There's no one really here anyways, besides me."

Yada continued. "I just always feel so alone when I'm home. Like I'm the only one who bothers to still treat him like my little brother, instead of just some sickly patient. He's so much more than his illness!"

Her voice began to wobble. "He's the sweetest little boy in the world. He loves art and animals. He laughs at Spongebob. He gives the best hugs ever. He's so smart and kind and incredible. He will never be a burden to me, unlike what my parents think."

She stopped to rub her eyes, and Kimura was dismayed to see her fingers glistening with unshed tears when she pulled them away. His own chest felt heavy listening to her.

He imagined what it would be like if Brave were ever in this position. Chronically ill, in pain, and seen as little more than a responsibility and burden to even his own parents.

"He's an amazing kid," he told Yada, speaking completely honestly. "You're so lucky to be his sister."

Yada paused and her gaze met his. She smiled.

"I know."

...

Eventually, they had to get going and start walking to school. The two of them quickly finished breakfast and washed the dishes, briefly checked in on Akihito, before getting ready to head out.

As he pulled on his shoes, Kimura groaned at the thought of having to walk up the slippery and muddy mountain. "I wish Korosensei just flew us all up there."

Yada laughed besides him, pulling on her coat. "I feel like he would, as long as Karasuma-sensei doesn't know."

"God, I hope so." Kimura rose and stretched, confused when something solid poked his back.

"Here, take this," Yada told him as he turned around to see it was an umbrella. She was holding her own purple one in her other hand.

"Oh, thanks." He gratefully accepted it.

They stepped outside, and Kimura hungrily took in the scent of the rain everywhere. The rain had gone down and was little more than a drizzle but there was no promise that it wouldn't get worse again.

The sky had also cleared up a bit, now a lighter almost lilac-like color now. The clouds covered the sun, but it was now beautiful rather than chaotic, in Kimura's opinion.

They started walking down the street, watching as young children did the same across the road. Kimura's gaze fell on little kids who were jumping in puddles together as their moms followed with their schoolbags.

He didn't have to turn around to see Yada's melancholic eyes.

They were just nearby the main campus, on the sidewalk, when Kimura's bad luck finally caught up to him.

A car drove obnoxiously close and fast to the sidewalk, just over a large puddle, creating a splash that instantly soaked Kimura's legs.

"Oh, come on!" He yelled, jumping back. His pants had just been washed, for Goodness' Sakes!

The car kept driving on towards the parking lot. Kimura waved a fist angrily and yelled, "Asshole! Watch where you drive!"

Teppei Araki's head popped out of the backseat window, jeering at him. "Make me, loser!" It drove on, eventually leaving their sight.

"Piece of shit," he grumbled.

Yada gently placed her hand on his shoulder, but she was still fighting the urge to laugh. He could tell. "Relax, we'll get back at them another time. Just slander one of his articles or something."

"I guess so," Kimura muttered, glaring at his pants. Maybe it wasn't the biggest deal. Korosensei would just give him a pair of PE pants while washing and drying these ones.

"Why do these things always happen to you?" Yada wondered.

He threw his hands up. "You tell me! It's me and Okajima. We get the brunt of all this bad luck."

"Maybe you pissed off a God or something in your past life." They started walking again, and Kimura forced himself to try and ignore the looks he was getting for his drenched pants.

"Or something." He flipped off one guy who was laughing. "God, I can't wait until I have a car."

Yada raised an eyebrow. "That's a long wait, Kimura. Basically like 4 years."

"Not really, I mean I just need a car. I know how to drive." The gears in his brain started turning.

She stopped and stared at him, unconvinced. "Do you really?" She asked dryly.

"Yeah! I've driven my dad's cop car a few times."

"In a parking lot or actual driving?"

He deflated. "...Parking lot."

She laughed. "It's not like a car would bring you up a mountain anyways."

"Can you just me live, Yada? Let me live in this fantasy world where I have a sports car and zoom past those assholes at this campus."

"You know, Bitch-sensei knows a lot about fancy cars."

He whirled around. "Really? Wait, she has connections too. Do you think she could hook me up with a Lamborghini?"

"I said absolutely none of that, but sure, we can ask."

The two of them kept walking as the rain eventually came to a stop and sunlight poured back over them. By the time they reached the classroom, their umbrellas were put away and Kimura's pants had dried up.

And their friendship was even more strengthened.

Sugino + Maehara - “Is that toast in your mouth?”

…

He was late. Running extremely late, actually.

Maehara was a flurry of chaos on this particularly morning. And he wasn't sure why. He woke up on time, did his skincare routine, got dressed...

Oh, and he was finishing a rather urgent assignment that he'd neglected for over two days.

Goddammit, Hiroto. You've outdone yourself.

He was crouched over his floor, scrambling to scribble down the answers with his hairbrush handle in his mouth and his brain struggling to work properly.

Divide this number. Now apply the quadratic formula. Don't forget the plus and minus, you dipshit.

Honestly, Maehara could live with a low grade. But now that he'd already destroyed his morning trying to fight for this assignment, he felt determined to finish it.

"Hiroto!" His mother called from downstairs. "Your breakfast is getting cold!"

"Alright, ma, I'm coming!" He yelled back, removing the hairbrush from his mouth. He tossed it over his shoulder and continued working on the paper.

I'm almost finished, I'm almost finished, I got this-

His thoughts were interrupted by a call coming from his phone, specifically the loud "Material Girl" ringtone saved for Sugino.

Maehara leaned over and grabbed his phone as Madonna’s voice continued. He squished the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he continued jotting down the rest of the last formula. "Heyo!"

"Dude, I'm gonna be at your house in five minutes." Sugino's voice was slightly drowned out by the sound of cars rushing by, but Maehara still made out the main message.

Get your ass out the door SOON.

"Are you ready?" Sugino asked.

Maehara laughed, hoping it sounded convincing even though he was dying inside. "Yeah, no worries, man. I'll be outside my house soon. Let me know when you're here, though."

"Alright, see you, dude." He hung up.

"Dammit, what does this mean again?" Maehara asked aloud, faced with the remaining part of his equation. He twirled his pencil impatiently, a small part of him tempted to ask Karma.

Then the thought struck him as completely absurd. HA! Karma would sooner sabotage me than help!

But his options were limited. Isogai already refused, Nakamura told him to suck her hypothetical dick, Nagisa wasn't available, and Chiba flat-out said no, as well.

He growled, pulling out his calculator from beside him. Screw them all! I'll finish this myself!

"HIROTO!" His mother shouted again downstairs.

"I'M COMING, MA! I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!"

He punched in the numbers into the calculator with an almost animalistic desperation, especially since Sugino was on his way. I'm sorry for cheating in advance, Korosensei, but I had to choose survival.

Maehara finally completed the last problem and crammed the paper into his backpack in triumph. "Finally!" He cried, almost wanting to shed tears of relief.

He leapt up and took a look at the mirror, checking his face for any lotion that didn't get rubbed in, or if his hair was intact. Both were fine. He still combed his fingers through just a little, feeling the gel he'd put in earlier and adjusting it.

Then he threw on his sweater vest and grabbed his backpack before rushing down the stairs. On his way, he got another text from Sugino.

I'm outside, it read. Maehara pocketed the phone and made his way to the kitchen.

"Alright, alright, I'm here!" He shouted. "I gotta take this to go, though. My friend is outside."

His mother's back was turned to him, as she continued frying up some eggs. "Oh, why not invite him inside for breakfa-?"

Her voice cut off as she turned completely to the sight of Maehara, but he paid no mind. "I would, but we're in a rush, ma. I'll see you guys later."

He grabbed a glass of orange juice on the table and chugged it down. His mom continued to stare at him. "Hiroto, you-"

He waved her off, wiping his mouth off once he was done. "I know, it won't happen again. Anyways, I'll pick up your dry-cleaning on my way home from school, ok?"

"Son, you-"

He grabbed a toast from the table. "Bye, mom!" He stopped to glare at his sister, who was laughing so hard she was falling off the chair. "I don't know what's so funny but you look stupid as hell right now."

She stopped to stare at him incredulously. "I look stupid?" She shared a look with their mother before laughing again.

"Weirdo," Maehara muttered as he dashed off, stuffing the toast in his mouth.

“Hiroto, you-!” His mother tried again but he was already out the door.

He jogged over to the fence in the front of his house, and sure enough Sugino was leaning against it on his phone. "Yo!" Maehara called out, although it was muffled.

Sugino's head snapped up, but his mouth fell open at the sight of him. The baseball player's eyes widened and his phone fell into his open bag. Then his eyebrows furrowed in total confusion and his mouth closed, then opened again like he was about to speak.

Maehara frowned. What's the weird look for? Was his hair messed up? Eyebrows not on fleek? Any stain on his shirt?

Finally, Sugino pointed at him. "Is that toast in your mouth?"

Oh. Maehara quickly pulled it out sheepishly. "I grabbed it in a rush," he explained, before taking another bite of the buttery bread.

Sugino nodded slowly. "Uh-huh...okay. Well, also you're not wearing any pants right now."

Wait. What?

Maehara looked down in horror, anguished to see the sight of his donut-printed boxers instead of khakis. "WHAT THE FU-?"

He dropped his toast and ran over to one of the large potted plants outside his house, kneeling down to cover himself. "DUDE!"

"What?!" Sugino asked, his shoulders shaking with silent mirth as he followed.

"Why would you point out the toast in my mouth before the fact that I'm literally half-naked?!"

"I'm sorry, okay? It just caught me off-guard," Sugino burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. "Like bro, are you trying to be Naruto or something?"

"No!" Maehara cried, covering his face. Now he knew why his mother and sister reacted the way they did. He forgot to put on pants of all things.

"This is real life, not an anime, and you're not the main character."

"I know!"

Sugino's laughter died down and he gestured to the house. "Just go get a pair quick. We gotta start getting to the mountain."

Maehara groaned, already mentally preparing himself for the embarrassment he was gonna get from his family. "Fine...but do you think if I walk like this, I might get some girls?"

"No," Sugino responded dryly. "Absolutely not."

[jimmys-zeppelin]

ghostin'

chapter twenty-nine

(table of contents)

march 29, 1977

Ellie tapped her fingers impatiently as the droning of the phone put her anxiety just over the edge. Two seconds later she was slamming the receiver back down and picking it up again; this time dialing a different number.

It was barely five seconds before the call was answered, "Hello?"

"Hey Andrew, it's Ellie."

"Well it's about damn fucking time you called! I thought you were dead, princess." He replied, the anger imminent in his voice.

"Sorry!" Ellie exclaimed, "it's been so hectic and—I haven't forgotten you, I promise! I really just haven't had any—"

"Yeah sure," Andrew said, exaggerating the 'e' to showcase his displeasure, "You've been gone two weeks and haven't even given so much as a peep!"

"I sent out a post card from Hamburg last week!" Ellie shot back, "Plus I got you some goodies too."

"Good, I deserve them." he huffed, prompting Ellie to laugh.

"How's it been taking care of my house?" she asked.

"I threw several parties. Drugs, cum, and alcohol all over the floor. I'm letting it marinate for when you get back."

"Oh, perfect. Thanks so much Andrew, I was due for a marination."

After a beat, the two broke out into fits of laughter, with Andrew cutting in, "The house is fine, I've been playing housewife every few days: dusting things off, watering your plants, lazing on your couch, eating your food....you know. How's it been with the blondie?"

"Roger? He's good I guess. He had to go back to England for a few days this week to figure out some stuff because he's got a tour right after the end of mine and—oh my god! Jesse tried to fucking make out with me!"

"I fucking knew it! I told you from the beginning he just wanted to drag you into bed. So what happened, did you fire him?"

"No, I scared him off because I don't wanna be stuck finding a guitarist on short notice, but holy fuck I wish I could've done something more."

"Holy shit...did you tell Roger?"

"Yeah. He seemed pretty ticked off, to be honest, but if Jess had pushed any more I would've been banging on Roger's door like a damsel in distress."

Andrew pulled the phone away from his mouth and yelled out in relief, "you two need to fuck as soon as possible."

While it was plausible, the idea of getting to that point with Roger scared her a ton. Of course Ellie had hooked up with a small handful of guys since breaking things off with Jimmy, but it still felt odd to be with other people. Like she didn't deserve it somehow.

"Yeah yeah yeah...I don't even know how he feels about me." she said, rolling her eyes.

"You're so fucking dumb, you know that?"

"Thanks Andrew, that's real sweet of you." Ellie chuckled dryly.

"I'm serious! This man took you home when you were blackout drunk on the Fourth of July, missed his flight to make sure you got home safe, is going on TOUR with you through Europe and PAYING for his own expenses. He's—I'm sure—totally romancing you with his, quote-unquote 'innocent friendly gestures'. Ellie you're dense!"

"Oh, come on, Drew! Those are all things you'd probably do for me."

"Not if I wasn't in love with you!" Andrew insisted. "Hotel rooms are expensive, Ellie!"

A knock on the door made Ellie jump where she sat on her hotel bed, "Listen, there's someone at the door, I have to call you back."

"You better! I'll be at your house until you do."

"That's right, leech off me. Okay, bye." she said, hanging up the phone and rushing towards the door when another set of knocks echoed throughout the hotel room.

Looking in the peep hole, she saw Carolyn outside. Opening the door, she greeted her, "Hey, what's up?"

"There's an interviewer downstairs for you. Just a pop magazine. Also here to take some photos if you don't mind. You look good, the pictures should come out well."

"Thanks." Ellie replied, "come in, I just have to pee first." she said, opening the door for her manager before entering the restroom.

"You were on the phone?"

"Yeah, I was just giving my friend Andrew a call. You know him. He's house-sitting for me while I'm gone."

"Oh, okay." she said. The tone of her voice hinted that the conversation was likely not her top priority and was focused on something else. "You talk to Roger yet?" she asked as Ellie flushed. Rinsing her hands, she quickly dried them on her pants as she entered the main room. Carolyn had been eyeing the corner of the notebook sheet with Roger's phone number scribbled onto it.

"No." Ellie gulped, using her damp hands to push down the flyaways on her hair, "Let's go."

Arriving into the multipurpose room where her interviewer sat patiently with a photographer beside her, Ellie smiled to them as they stood to shake her hand.

"How are you?" The woman asked, her German accent thick in the way she spoke.

"Good, good, thank you." Ellie replied, exchanging pleasantries with the photographer as well before taking a seat. "Do you want to take photos first or do the interview first?"

"Leon will take some photos as I conduct the interview and then he'll take some shots of you for the magazine."

"Sounds good. And your name?"

"Elsa." she introduced. Ellie nodded in response and sat back in her chair.

Elsa scribbled a few things down in her notebook before reaching into her purse and turning on her tape recorder. "Mind if I record?"

She shook her head, pulling her carton of cigarettes from her back pocket, "Mind if I smoke?" she mirrored in question, to which Elsa shook her head. The two chuckled before the interview started.

"How's Germany been for you, Ellie? Do you miss the US a lot?"

"It feels like I've been gone a month when it's only been about two weeks, so yeah, a little. It's been kinda surreal especially since I don't speak an ounce of German and everyone here seems to know the words to all my songs." She chuckled, taking a long and satisfying drag of her cigarette. Beside her, she could hear the shutter of Leon's camera. She wondered how an image of her smoking a cigarette would sell.

"You come from New York, yes?"

"That's right."

"So what's one thing you miss about home?"

"I'm gonna be honest, I thought there'd be more Pop Tarts available for purchase here." Ellie laughed, blowing away the smoke from the side of her lip.

"What are Pop Tarts?"

Ellie stammered, sitting up in her seat and trying to give Elsa a rough size guesstimate with her hands, "They're these, uh, pastries—hyper-processed, obviously—in the States. They have lots of filling and—it's not important," she chuckled, putting a hand over her eyes, "they're just some junk food I miss. But I also miss the California weather."

"Much warmer than over here in Germany, yeah?"

"Definitely," Ellie laughed, sucking on her cigarette.

Elsa scribbled down a bit in her notepad as Leon snapped away with his camera. Finally, she looked up, "What famous person has left you the most, erm, what Americans call star struck?"

"Oh!" Ellie replied excitedly, unsure of how to answer, "I've been fortunate enough to meet many famous people in my—what is it—eight years since moving to California. I think my biggest star struck moment is kind of pathetic, actually. I kind of don't want to say." she chuckled, an embarrassed smile creeping up on her face.

"Who is it?" Elsa pushed.

"I saw Elvis Presley at LAX once in 1974. It was right around when I'd gotten my first Grammy award. I was coming back from London and he obviously saw I had recognized him and kinda saluted me from across baggage claim before saying his daughter heard my single Dreamer on the radio and loved it. I had an ego boost for like, six months after that." she said, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"One last question," the woman paused, looking down at her notes, "What is your songwriting process?"

Deciding she had some time to kill in her off-time, Ellie hit the shops. The town center was nearby and she had some marks on her, why not?

Shopping, as her mother had always told her, cleared the mind. She didn't know what needed clearing, though, the thought of picking up some new garments or records always sounded like a good idea to her.

Stopping at a magazine stand to see if she could find the latest Rolling Stone, Creem, or any other music publication, she found what seemed to be a tabloid. The title was in German, but one of the many images on the cover included a small section for a familiar face. It was Jimmy, seemingly caught in the middle of the street by paparazzi with someone on his arm. Of course the image of the woman was blurred out to entice readers.

Lesen Sie auf Seite 67!

Picking up the magazine as nonchalantly as she could, she flipped to the page marked 67 where, plastered over half the page, was a photo of Jimmy and Charlotte. She didn't think too much of it, turning to the stand worker and asking if he could translate the blurb into English for her—no dice.

"Bist du Ellie Saunders?" the man asked curiously, pointing to her name and tiny photo of hers being displayed on the page.

"Nein." she replied, hoping her tone would convince him it was the truth. With a huff, she gave him the five marks for the magazine and carried on with her shopping, though with a muddled mind.

Trying as hard as she could to ignore the paparazzo taking pictures of her from across the street, Ellie walked into the first record shop she stumbled upon. Flicking through the A section for anything she thought she would recognize, the thought in the back of her mind gnawed at her of what exactly was written beside that photo of Jimmy and Charlotte together. And just why it had her name and photograph included in the mix. Her mind could conjure a million different awful things the publication could have said about her in comparison to Charlotte—she was the mother of his child after all.

She was unknowingly halfway through the A’s when she stopped. Looking around the store, she found the clerk behind the cash register, his back turned as he flipped the ABBA record which had been playing through the store’s speakers.

“Excuse me,” she said as she approached him. As the needle hit the vinyl, the man turned to face her, his expression immediately changing. Perhaps she’d been recognized.

“Hallo, miss! How can I help you?” The man asked eagerly.

Ellie smiled in response, placing the magazine up on the counter and flipping directly to page 67 as if her finger wasn’t already marking the page, “Could you translate for me?” She asked, pointing directly at the blurb beside Jimmy and Charlotte.

The man hummed, taking a look at the small paragraph, then squinting at it before looking back up at Ellie. “It is a piece about new couples. It says, ehh, which woman is better for Jimmy Page. Ellie or Charlotte. It says people like Charlotte more.” he said solemnly.

Ellie couldn't find any words, instead nodding and mumbling a quick 'danke' before going back to the bins at the front of the store.

As she continued flicking through the records, a sinking dread creeped into her chest. She wondered if Jimmy had actually moved on—or back?—so quickly. It made her feel helpless. The jealousy sparked inside of her confused her to no end. Charlotte—as Ellie had reminded herself time and time again—was the mother of his child; a role Ellie knew she could never fulfill.

Her mind was spiraling trying to come up with excuses for him. Why he'd move on, or go back to his ex. Was he done mourning their relationship, trying to get her back? The dread in her body began to settle upon her realization: Jimmy was moving on, Ellie was still stuck five months in the past. Time had been merely passing and Ellie was stagnant in her mentality.

Her nose itched.

Going to the clerk again, she placed two records on the counter. "Just these, please." she said.

"Of course, miss Ellie." he said, tapping at his register before he returned her the change. Thanking him, she made her way back out onto the Hanover city streets. It had started raining since she had entered the record store. The sky had turned an ugly blue shade of gray as thick droplets of rain fell from the clouds.

Seemingly, it was fitting for Ellie. “How ironic,” she said quietly to herself, finding the nearest taxi cab and heading back to the hotel.

As she entered the lobby—as inconspicuously as she could—she could hear a few pairs of light footsteps rushing behind her. When one of them called her name, she turned on her heels in an instant.

Two teenage girls stood before her, clutching at a record in each of their hands as they looked to Ellie excitedly. Fans. She hoped.

"Hi!" she said, greeting them happily. "What can I do for you?"

"We are very big fans," One of them piped up. "We will be seeing you at Festhalle this week."

"Shit, that's great, thank you. What are your names?"

"I'm Sabine. This is Brigitte." Sabine said, gesturing to her friend beside her.

"Nice to meet you both." Ellie smiled, noticing them both looking at her expectantly as they continued clutching at their records. "Did you want me to sign those?" she asked, pointing at the jackets.

"Please!" Brigitte said excitedly.

"Of course," she laughed, reaching out for the items, "do you have a pen or something?"

Quickly, Sabine pulled a marker from her bag, handing it to her. After scribbling her signature down as well as a short message to each girl on the jacket sleeves, Ellie handed each one back to the girls.

"So nice to meet you!" said Sabine, "We will see you at Festhalle." she said before the two waved goodbye to Ellie and scurried out of the hotel's lobby.

With a newfound smile on her face, Ellie made her way to the elevator. As she twisted the key to get into her room, she dropped her bags onto the sofa and made a beeline for the phone, grabbing her notebook that sat on her dresser.

Flipping to the page matching that of two days previous, she saw Roger's neat handwriting in the upper left hand corner.

The line rang twice before there was a click, "Hello?" he said, the soft raspiness of his voice bringing yet another smile onto her face.

"Greetings from Hanover."

"Is this one of those tele-order postcards?" He asked, feigning suspicion. She felt dumb at how just the tone of his voice sent butterflies through her stomach.

She cleared her throat with a laugh, "No, but it is your favorite American who's calling."

"My favorite American? Well who can that possibly be?" he pondered as Ellie tried to hold in her laughter in order to keep on with the joke. "I know a lot of Americans, you know?"

"Perhaps this will freshen your mind: the one you've been following around on her tour like a little lost puppy."

"Oh, Elizabeth! So great to hear from you dear."

"Yeah close enough." Ellie chuckled, twirling the phone cord around her finger as they fell into a comfortable silence, "How've you been, Rog?"

"Well it's been two days, but I'm good. You?"

"Good as I can be, I guess," she said, amusement only slightly present in her voice, "some stupid tabloid got me upset just now. Plus it's in German so I have no fucking clue what it really says."

"About you?"

"Sorta. About Jimmy and his ex. Apparently they're back together or something and people think she's better than me or whatever...It's stupid." she dismissed.

"That's harsh El. But it's just a tabloid right? They print bullshit half the time anyway. I wouldn't sweat it. Plus, you deserve better than Jimmy."

"I am making a career of songs about him, aren't I?"

"Exactly, that's the spirit."

"I guess," Ellie conceded, "Listen, I just called to tell you where I'm at for whenever you come back."

"Oh yeah. Lemme just get a pen and paper." Roger said. There was a bit of rustling on the other end before the phone crackled a bit, "Alright go ahead."

"I'm at the Plaza Hotel in Hanover under the name Jennifer North."

Roger paused for a second, audibly writing down the information, "And who is Ms. North, if I may ask?"

"Just a character from a book I like. Tragic ending."

"Hope that isn't foreshadowing."

"Not unless I ditch music and start doing pornos."

"Oh jeez." Roger laughed.

"Anyway, the show's on Thursday so I'm just hanging out here and doing photo shoots and interviews until then. You know, pop star stuff."

"I'll be sure to be back by then. Perhaps leave tonight..." he trailed off.

"Did you sort out your thing with the band?"

"I did. Ah, just the new road crew confused over where to put my cymbals." he said exasperatedly.

"I thought that'd be self-explanatory."

"I've got a lot of cymbals, Ellie. One day I'll give you a tour," he chuckled.

She laughed, "Alright then, I'll take your word for it." she said, pausing again as a silence fell over them and she realized she was probably keeping him from something. What it was, she didn't know, but she didn't want to keep him from it any longer.

They spoke over each other then, stammering for the other to speak first before Roger insisted she go ahead.

"I was just gonna say I'm probably going to get ready for bed. I just need a hot bath to soothe my nerves. Plus I don't want to keep you on the phone. You probably have other, more important things to do."

"Oh. Okay, well, I'll see you soon then."

"Yeah. What did you want to say?"

"It's okay. It's not important."

"Rog—"

"Ellie, don't worry about it. I'll tell you when I see you next."

Ellie hesitated, "Okay," she said, "I'll see you soon, Rog."

"See you, El."

When she hung up the phone, she looked suspiciously into her room, stumped, and wondering what he'd wanted to tell her. Finally, with a shrug, she started running herself a bath, the water as hot as it could go in order to steam up the room as much as possible.

"Borrowing" a tray from the kitchenette, Ellie wiped it down with a cloth, reaching into her purse on the sofa and pulling out her trusty baggie. Pouring a good amount of it onto the tray, she took the first bill and card she could find and organized the powder into semi-neat lines. Three for the bath, one to treat herself.

Her nose burned after the first line, beginning to feel the waves of relaxation coming over her instantly. She undressed herself in the room, leaving her clothes any which way on the floor and took a "new" book from her suitcase. The cracked spine made the text beneath illegible, but the cover made it much clearer.

Ellie grabbed the tray on her way to the bathroom, setting it on the edge of the tub and shutting the water off as she stepped in. The shock from the temperature gave her a sort of euphoria. When she was finally settled in, she cracked open the book again. Sense and Sensibility. Another classic favorite of hers.

As she bathed, the magazine that lay wrinkled on her bed said the following on page 67:

Jimmy Page and Charlotte Martin

— Now that he and Ellie Saunders have split, it is called into question which model-like lady looks better on Page's arm. Lately, the guitarist has been spotted with the mother of his child looking rather cosy, unlike how he usually did with his former flame. A poll conducted at our offices shows that people prefer Pagey with his longtime lover Charlotte rather than with novice singer Ellie. Sounds like blondes don't always have more fun!

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masterlist | playlist

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